So LJ seems a bit of an empty ship at the moment. Before I had the Rocket I really spent too much time here, following communities and getting agitated about any old thing. Now I save my agitation for real life things, and I'm surprised to find that in my own world, there's not as much to get angry about as there was when I took on the collective rage of the world.
The Rocket will be one in less than a month. Now when I see babies I feel less like I can understand them. She can crawl - fast - and can put things in other things with purpose. She eats people food now and will hoover down anything I offer her. She sleeps most nights in our bed after her 1am internal wake up call as it's the only way we get any sleep of our own. She is real funny, loves to climb over us and be upside down and laugh; she flicks through books relentlessly and loves blocks and plastic balls and swimming pools. She is still very small and I can't help but worry even though I am very small too. Some of her friends are four kilos heavier than her.
We moved house, two train stations further east and $25 a week more. This new place has a third bedroom to throw all our crap in and so much more natural light than our previous cave that I feel like a new person. There are ceiling fans in our bedrooms and the air con in the lounge is like a blast from the Arctic. There's ducted heating I'm expecting to worship in winter. We share our back wall with another person, but she is very nice and has yet to complain about the babies and guitars.
I'm at work two days a week. I've done a few management shifts. I chased a thief. I served Kimbra a few times but otherwise the star-spotting is at a three-year low. On Sundays I knock off at 3 so Chris and the Rocket come meet me and we eat ice creams in the park.
My father had another heart attack, but is home and well, though slower. My sister B was diagnosed with breast cancer just before christmas and has had two rounds of surgery with chemo or radiotherapy or both to follow. She is thirty-eight and if I think about it too much, I can't concentrate on anything else.
I am very lucky. If I think back on the weeks after I had the Rocket, I feel like some beautiful soft times were stripped away from me because the birth was hard and I hurt for so long afterwards. Breastfeeding was not the spiritual experience I hoped for either, and now when she is cranky - not necessarily hungry - she claws at my shirt and screams and I have to put her down and walk away. I think I'll wean her soon. I am so very glad for her.
Today we will go and meet my friend for a picnic on the State Library lawn. We'll catch the train and she'll paw at the window and smile at everyone nearby. Later, on the grass, she'll point at the pigeons as they dance around her. I am always a better mother when we're outside.
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