Monday, October 10, 2011

The Sound Of One Hand Typing

Babe in arms.


Turning into total hermit.

Luckily have beautiful bunting banner made with love by girlfriends as baby shower gift. It hangs above crafty almost-five year-old and giant pile of washing to remind me that when I have time to re-enter the outside world (two or three years, perhaps) there are friends out there.

(Babe asleep beside me! No longer doing grunty squiggles! Furious two-fingered typing ensues.)

Out There, in the world outside this nest of looping schedules and dried fruit and two-hourly feedings and three-year-old boys needing cuddling and comforting, and almost-schoolgirls needing colouring-in assistance and lots of discussion the important upcoming flower fairy tea-party.

(Patting required. Back to one hand.)

I am in constant motion. In the daytime when Keith takes a lunch break, we eat on the deck and then I lie down for a spell while he teaches Daddy School where he likes the kids to address him, for no good reason, as Mr. Blake. I do have a pic of that. I'll post it some other time. Maybe.

After we get the big bobos off to bed at 7.30, I am into the bath like a shot, while Keith takes George. Once I crawl out, we roll into the evening proceedings, which involve more squiggling and grunting and general baby craziness through the wee small hours. In the off moments I sleep the sleep of the zombie dead.

So not much space, or free handedness, for blogging. Or socialising. My relationship capacity seems to have withered to a place of 'liking' the Facebook statuses of my friends. Good one! I'm trying to say. Nice one there! Hello! I still love you! I am here!

I lost my mobile shortly after the babelet was born and I haven't replaced it yet, so I'm even more cut off from the outside. But I feel like I need to. Managing the domestic and emotional needs of this little family of mine has me at capacity right now. I am so happy buried in this little world. But I have no room left for anything much else right now.

This post is all over the place like a mad womans shit.

It was intended as a THANK YOU to my lovely friends who sewed this beautiful piece of art for me. And an explanation for where I've been to any of you who've missed me.

I love you.

I'll see you on the other side.


  1. See you on the other side of freshie babydom! x

  2. Exhausting isn't it? I do hope you have found some time for yourself. We're running a marathon here so do take care.

  3. Hello! I still love you! I am (always) here!

  4. Brilliant that your sisters flag is just above ivys head!! We love you and are always around whenever you need to surface...I will be joining the hibernation soon so will tag you! Love jen

  5. I hear ya sistah! My little blog has been sadly neglected (along with most housework and all personal grooming of the hair removal variety) since I had Francesca. Someone tweeted yesterday that they miss my blog posts. So do I! I'm almost ready to rejoin the writing sorority - the spring is tightly coiled - but that time is not today.

    Enjoy the mama-cave and I look forward to the scraps you throw our way (with one hand of course!) no matter how much they resemble a mad woman's shit (oh lordie you make me laugh!)


  6. Hang in there!

    I'll still be here when two handed typing comes back into fashion in your house.

  7. Love this. The two fingered typing and the fact that you can still bust out a phrase like 'a mad woman's shit' when you have three little ones and no sleep. We'll all still be here when you come out the other side. x


Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.