Sunday, July 14, 2002
Heather: Today was the second time I've been alone in the house since Madeleine was born. She is omnipresent at the house, at least until sometime in the next couple weeks when we paint. It gets strangely quiet. At first, it's peaceful, but after about 45 minutes or an hour it's just... quiet. I finished watching a video I'd started last week, was going to paint my toenails but found I have no nail polish. It all went to a Mighty Aphrodite hen party a while back and it hasn't been replaced. Nuts.
I'd shaved my legs in the shower, bikini line needed no tending, wasn't really in the mood to read anything, no precise time of return so napping is out....
So what did I do for the remaining, oh, better part of an hour? Don't laugh. I made a gallon of Kool-Aid, hung out laundry that Dale had put into the machine (if it hadn't gone out soon, it wouldn't have dried by nightfall--it's heavy stuff) and did a load of dishes. It's easier to do such things when you don't have to keep an ear cocked for a cry, a tiny palm slapping on linoleum, or that telltale THUMP followed by a piercing wail.
Am I the only mother in the world who can only do so much for herself at a stretch?
Now they're back and the familiar is restored. I can't call it order; the cats and dogs have an entropic effect increased an order of magnitude by the baby. Is "entropic" a word? I remember "entropy" from high school chemistry; it's something like the perpetual drive in the universe toward disorder. My life epitomized and explained.
At least I have company, and he's nutty too.
I'd shaved my legs in the shower, bikini line needed no tending, wasn't really in the mood to read anything, no precise time of return so napping is out....
So what did I do for the remaining, oh, better part of an hour? Don't laugh. I made a gallon of Kool-Aid, hung out laundry that Dale had put into the machine (if it hadn't gone out soon, it wouldn't have dried by nightfall--it's heavy stuff) and did a load of dishes. It's easier to do such things when you don't have to keep an ear cocked for a cry, a tiny palm slapping on linoleum, or that telltale THUMP followed by a piercing wail.
Am I the only mother in the world who can only do so much for herself at a stretch?
Now they're back and the familiar is restored. I can't call it order; the cats and dogs have an entropic effect increased an order of magnitude by the baby. Is "entropic" a word? I remember "entropy" from high school chemistry; it's something like the perpetual drive in the universe toward disorder. My life epitomized and explained.
At least I have company, and he's nutty too.
