Thursday, February 18, 2010

Letters to India - day 2

My life is going to be so tiny for the next couple of weeks. It needs to be tiny so you can do the big stuff. Nothing else exists except getting our family through all this.

A car just pulled up out the front, and I automatically stopped and listened, but of course it wasn't you.

The evenings are almost easier, having you away. I know you are not coming home so I must just keep going with the whole going-to-bed routine. I'm not anxiously waiting for you to come and relieve me, and in some way I maintain more energy for the whole thing. I suppose I just stay in the moment, rather than constantly look forward to you walking through the door.

Today we took the train to Southbank. Southbank is like a glorious gift to parents of toddlers. That fantastic playground where the bridges and slides and climbing frames wind over and around the rocky creek; that magnificent fake beach and the water playground; the State Library; the Museum; GOMA; and all those opportunities for babycinos. Tim was singing nursery rhymes at The Corner, of course. Our children do adore him.  They fawned. I think we need to employ him as a manny.

Photo moment: Tim blew bubbles using that latex stuff that makes really strong bubbles.  Louis and Pearl and myriad other children were trying to catch them, and at one point Louis and Pearl were standing there with little bubbles stuck all over them - in their hair, on their clothes. They looked magical.

Louis and Pearl had a big sleep in the pram and I fell asleep reading the newspaper on a couch in the library. I hope I didn't snore or anything.

On the way home a man spontaneously came out of his house to show Louis and Pearl his lorikeet.

Both babies were exhausted and fell asleep really easily.

They've asked where you are a couple of times. 'Mummy home?' said Louis as we headed home on the train.

'No,' I said. 'Mummy is in India with Aunty Alice.'

'India,' said Pearl wisely. 'Aunty Alice.'

And that is that. They are not in any doubt that you will be home. We have lovely secure children.

I think Louis is going through A Stage. You know how he has always been so placid and gentle? Something has shifted, and he is becoming the aggressor much more often. He leaps upon Pearl and wrestles her to the ground. She shrieks, clearly distressed, but he won't let her go. Today it seemed that whenever I left the room for a minute, there would be tears. Of course, she is still determined to have whatever it is he is playing with, even if I offer her another exactly the same.

I don't have any plans for tomorrow.

Give my love to Alice.

And I love you.


ThirdCat said...

Okay, this might sound a bit pathetic, so I apologise in advance if it does. On a purely practical level, find a flat bench or other space and lay out the week's clothes in rows. Monday, Tuesday etc...

also, the children's bathtime is much better if you have just one glass of wine. And if you are drinking it in the bathroom, drink it in a plastic 'glass'.

I have many more tips like that based on similar experiences.

The emotional stuff? Sounds hard. I hope you are all okay. Wish I could do something useful for you.

Deborah said...

Day by day is the way to go.

My partner went to Europe for five weeks once. My girls were aged 4 and 7 at the time, so physically caring for them wasn't as exhausting as looking after infants, but it was still a long long time. We crossed each day off the calendar as they went to bed in the evening.

During the week, our school and work routines helped us all get through. The weekends were a bit tricky... And even 'though I had lots of family and friends nearby, I still got quite lonely. It's hard work.

I gave myself little treats.

Mikhela said...

Yes, the week has not been too bad because we're pretty much doing what we always do. Staying small helps. What's next? And then what's after that? I'm not sure about the treats - I've been feeling really great because I'm on a diet - trying to get out of the post-baby elasticised pants after two years - so I'm not sure whether 'busting' will make me feel worse or better.