I had cut the blue pill in half, right on the line that reminds me of our brain split, left hemisphere, right hemisphere. This experiment did not work. I am now again taking one whole, un-circumsized blue pill. So although the sadness of loss lingers and at times weighs unbearably, now with the help of my little blue friend, I can enjoy the crunch of an apple again, as I longed for in my last poem.
Ever takes wild careening turns between being impossible to stop, to control, listen to ( the screams! ) corral, engage or take anywhere that does not lend itself to obtrusive fondling and dismantling, to being hilarious, engaging, affable, charming beyond words, interesting and portable to all major and minor occasions. She is so cute at times that I shriek, CUTENESS ATTACK and lunge on her, pinning her tiny body underneath me like a wiggling insect and in what has become Lola and my own motto 'kissing your face right off your face!' while she giggles hysterically. I am the most grabby and physical of mothers which is difficult now that Lola is eleven and of course needs some more space. Still, she is eleven! so that same requested space can be resented and shed in a moment of tears and ' Mommy I miss you! '. In which case I throw HER on the bed and hug her and kiss her 'cream puffs' as I have called Lola's cheeks since she was a baby.
This week has been achingly beautiful. The sky a pure blue with enormous white clouds and watercolored dark grey in the center, releasing in torrents of rain at night. I lay awake for an hour last night in rapture listening to the rain and watching The Tudors. Ever slept right next to me, my arm still trapped underneath her from our nursing session. Ever will be three in December. I am preparing her for changes in our nursing schedule. Many of you will be compassionately horrified to know that Ever still wakes two or three times a night to nurse. This will be stopping, and it will not be fun. I have raised four children and none of them, by FAR, have needed or adored- worshipped even- nursing the way Ever does. The look of pure bliss on her face when she nurses is an infant's! When we lay in bed at night to nurse, I feel so happy. When she wakes to nurse, I feel supremely annoyed.
My novel is coming along at a beautiful clip when I can beg borrow or steal the time to work on it. I just finished the chapter I was working on and am extremely happy with that. I also will hopefully be able to tell you all some exciting writing news here very soon, maybe this week.
On my wall there is a poster I drew and hung up. It is a motto of mine:
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