Who's Santa?

How how

How do single parents do it? HOW, HOW, and often with multiple kids? [Twangy faints from sheer amazement]. The JB has been away for THREE nights eating bonbons in a bubble bath (academic conference, my eye, he's not fooling me) and I am an empty husk with a muscle in my eyelid jumping away like a jumping bean, and an unexplained burn on my hand. Also, I've become very stupid with tiredness. Last night, I stood in the hallway for minutes wondering how I could leave the front door locked and still allow him to enter with his keys. If I left the key in the lock, his key wouldn't be able to enter and turn, I reasoned, very, very slowly. If I unlocked the lock with my key however and removed my key, I would leave myself open to thieves, robbers and highwaymen. More time passed while my brain groped agonisingly toward its conclusion. REMOVE THE KEY LEAVING THE DOOR LOCKED, it shrieked in eureka-like style, in slow motion. Ahh.

The physical strength component to parenting is another thing I didn't know to expect. I have better upper body strength than in my whole life (probably not saying much), actual muscle definition. He is 24 or so pounds and likes to be held so this is a simple physics formula. I go through calories like a barn on fire, too. 

Uhhhhh. I've been very busy, apart from that. There was a funding deadline, a work deadline, anther work thing, a whole lot of hoo-ha about finding people to stand in for me at the two work gigs I missed because of the bonbons, a Betty head which lasted a week, the world is on fire, I got overwhelmed and demoralised, like everyone, (everyone normal that is, there are those who are making this happen, after all) and I dunno, the rest is lost in the mists of time. 

We are now deep into the time of tossing food on the floor with force and peering after it with interest, a time of rolling over in the cot into up dog, and saying EYE for hi, and even knowing that the sheep says baa and the duck says ACK. He's at peak baby. He's great company. He giggles in a half-horrified half-thrilled way when I offer him new food as if to say: Okay, Ma, I'll go along with your mad caper, but then we're going back to the proper food, right? He takes little squares of toast very carefully in his fingers, as if they might be booby-trapped, and sucks off the butter. He'll eat most things, and about half the time he'll sleep what they call through the night, from 1 to 6 or but is actually merely through the wee small hours. He has an upper tooth now, an incisor (I think) which he uses to make appalling gnashing noises with his lower ones. Ahhh! It's awful. I took him on the train to see my mother and he enjoyed looking out the window enormously. He was thrilled. We were moving! He can see so much further, his life is expanding. It's much easier to relate to him; he's less mysterious. He goes swimming now and to baby yoga and enjoys these as long as no strangers look at him too closely. He is not fond of strangers, mostly, except when he is and then they are favoured with a broad smile. 

It is frosty out today in Eastern Ireland, in case you were interested. I must hit the road in an effort to get some presents for the Christmas, so this will have to do for now. Better done than perfect, will be written on my tombstone. More soon, friends.
I hope you're well.







Ah! Jay updates! *Wriggles cozily into chair*

I know. When Bun Bun was small, any solo parenting was a terrifying abyss of, well, terror, I guess. HOW CAN I CARE FOR A BABY ALONE?!?!?!!? I was barely able to manage it with a partner. I thought a lot about single parents. (I still do, when I contemplate how my poor mother managed being solely responsible for us most of the time. And when I think about my state's recent ban on abortions after 20 weeks. I mean, I am not a fan of abortion, and certainly not at 20 weeks, but I think the people who want to outlaw it--while also refusing to provide sex education and denying people access to contraceptives--must suffer from a massive failure of empathy. It's like it never occurs to them that a person's circumstances can be so radically different from their own that this might be the best choice. Hmmm, this is not exactly a message of Christmas cheer, is it! Let's move on...) I will tell you that it gets considerably easier. Now Bun Bun goes to the "cozy nook of solitude" at the top of the stairs and reads to herself for an hour. So that's pretty manageable. Of course, there's still a lot of cleaning and meals and stuff, and yes, one remains tired.

Jay sounds phenomenal! I love the idea of him eating toast bits. Bunter is still in that precise gripping mode, and it is a beautiful thing. She doesn't talk yet. Jay must be a prodigy.

Good to hear from you, hope the funding and work things and the hoo-hah all go well.


Better done than perfect shall be my life's motto!

It's amazing to watch these little lumps of need turn into beings with personality. Write more, because, all too soon, you will forget these little things. And because I like to read your words. :)


Ah, my lovely bunny and a. GROUP HUG.

I will write more, thank you, a. You have given me the bit of encouragement I needed. There is more, indeed, which I should record before it's lost for all time. [Like (note to self): Beautiful Tony, the physio, the question of race.]

bunny! Thank you for commenting. Nodding at your comments on abortion - yes - if they really really wanted to reduce the numbers of abortions. (versus DISPLACING them to the UK, as is our hypocrisy here) wouldn't they find ways to support mothers and children, I always think? It seems like once they're born, the interest in protecting their rights suddenly palls. All bets are off once they draw breath. I don't know. Ack, I say.

Honesty compels me to say that the BAA and ACK were one-offs. He does say EYE though. I feel he will be a talker, like his Da. The two of them can explain everything to each other, (I dream) and I can have a nice lie-down.

Bun bun sounds a marvel! SHE READS ON HER OWN. WUNDERKINDER. LOVE.

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