Thursday, April 24, 2008

Baby Days

Sometimes, when the baby’s naps stretch long, I feel an immense sense of relief and latitude, and am either very productive, getting lots and lots of things done, or luxuriously lazy, reading or dawdling online or watching television. Sometimes, though, like today, when the baby stayed down for two, two and a half, three hours and counting, I feel dreadfully, desperately lonely. I am too scattered and contrary to get anything started or finished, and too keyed up and frustrated to relax. Every minute stretches into an eternity, and I feel as though I will never interact with another (adult, awake) human being again, ever. I can't bring myself to call anyone and expose my desperation or endure their sympathy. I wish that the baby would wake up to distract me, but refuse to wake him myself, because who knows how long it will be until I get another moment to myself? The windowless living room begins to contract and the silent apartment feels dead and airless. When the baby finally squirms awake and calls out, I run to him, feeling like a drowning woman thrashing her way to a raft, and I cry with relief into his little shoulder as I give him his waking hug.

My balance righted, I can re-start my day - today, we took the dog for a walk, then went to H&M, where we each got a pair of summer trousers.