In the morning we cuddle, I put her tiny body onto mine and she starts pulling my face with her little hands, shrieking with excitement. The sun is dripping in through the tomato plants in the kitchen window, its long arms reaching the couch. My feet are cold and so are her hands, there’s fall in the air.
When she’s sleeping (finally she accepted the pacifier), all I want to do is read. Or write. Throughout the day my head is full of stories, but when faced with a white page, my brain is blank. The screen is staring back at me.
“Why do you keep posting all these details on motherhood on fb? Do you really think people care?” To tell you the truth, the response is secondary. I mean sure, it’s nice if people can relate, not so nice when others write things belonging to a totally different era and you can sense the scorn of others again, for why did she have to wait until 40s to have a baby, “other people have 20 years old children already”, as someone told my mom.
But with all the risks of oversharing, writing is cathartic for me, it’s always been like that. And the funny little stories are a coping mechanism with days that are pretty much alike, too little sleep and the realization that, as much as I’ve always wanted a child, this child is here to stay. I mean forever. Good God in heaven! (Don’t get me wrong, I feel blessed every single day!) I remember this feeling when I got a cat- they live for 10-12 years?! And then another and then Sam- what, will I always be a dog-owner, for as long as he lives? I would think it’s the responsibility of it that sometimes feels overwhelming, nothing else.
Contrary to many of my friends’ experience, I managed to read quite a lot of books during my maternity leave. Mostly because she sleeps so lightly and I don’t want to wake her up. But also since I need some me-time and folding bed linen can be done when she’s playing next to me. 😉 And reading is supposed to lead to writing… haha!
I only have 4 weeks left, before daddy takes over. And then 6 more weeks from February. I can’t wait to talk about other things than the baby. To be able to get a massage or go to the hairdresser without needing a baby sitter (not that I have had a baby-sitter!) To the string of Sundays that my freelance life combined with paternity leave I’m hoping will feel like.
Until then, I have to go to the veterinary with Madde in a pram and Sam in a leash. I’ve been dreading it since last week. Wish me luck!