I've just been reading through my last blog, the neq, going over our first few months with Beanie and it's made me kind of sad. Sad in a kind of way I didn't expect to be. Sad that I don't have the time to write about Minnow's new beginnings, sad that I don't have the same energy or mind space to give to him. Even now, upstairs in the dark, him sleeping next to me, the weekend here at last... it all feels rushed and too hard. I can't get a moment in with him without feeling like I'm neglecting Bean. She tries to help constantly which doesn't always turn out to really be a help. It turns into him crying and her crying louder. At these times I'm frozen. I can't move or speak and I feel this look of pathetic resignation come over my face. I feel old and tired. I often give myself a few minutes in this state then close my eyes, breathe deeply and smile. I tell myself this is ridiculous and I make the situation funny and absurd in my head. Which it is in a sick kind of way. Neither of them are hurt or really suffering they just want more of me than there is. It's fine, that's what we all want from our mothers really. I just have to pretend there is more of me to give. I have to go along with this game and at the end of those long, long days realize the weeks and the months and the years are passing. I don't want to wish them away. I want to freeze the moments where we're all together and warm. I want to watch us sleep from somewhere outside my body. All four of us in bed... Jason, Bean, Me and Minnow... unconsciously whole. Dreams and arms and legs tangled up and living, passing hours silent but for our hearts and mouths sharing the same air for a few short years. My lovies are growing whether the days are difficult or easy. They just go by. All I can do is try and record them.
