It is dark
outside, I have just put Tilda back to bed. Early morning, only six o’clock.
What’s best to do now? According to hubby it is ‘go to bed and try to get some
more sleep. I’ll fix breakfast for us and you take yours later.’ Thank you,
love. I am not really awake, but cannot sleep either. Hubby’s clattering
downstairs is all I hear. Tilda is not bothered at all, she takes another nap,
finally, after a rather restless night. Weariness makes every decision a longwinding and slow
process. Currently I am at my best when I am just doing the obvious things,
nurse, change nappies, eat, sleep, brush teeth.
If Tilda is
fine now, this means I have time till around eight. The light in here is out,
but from the corridor I see a warm golden glow. For some reason this is more
interesting than sleeping. It’s all about balance, always. I should sleep, but
I don’t want to and will live to regret this later, won’t I?! Maybe it is the
smell of coffee that adds to the attraction? I still love the smell, but won’t
give the taste another try till summer.
A shiver
runs down my spine, one of those that shakes you from head to toe.
Maybe it is cooler in the bedroom than I had thought. It doesn’t surprise me
much, as I am only wearing pyjama bottoms and a sleeveless top for nursing. Not
long and I’ll go back to nightshirts for easy access. I don’t know, somehow this
makes me feel as if I was public domain.
So, what to
do? Undecided I remain where I am, a longing glance at the warm bed, but
somehow the remote is off for the moment. Do you know what it means to be free
to do what you want to? I enter the bathroom and almost wish I hadn’t. ‘Hey
you, you look horrible. You should get rest and care more about yourself.’
Funny. ‘I would, but why? I am either running out of time or out of energy.
Besides, hubby says it doesn’t matter. Well, I want to be representable, but am not sure if I will be, this morning.’ I brush my teeth and stare at myself. ‘Who am I
talking to, by the way?’ Hubby is not here, so it must be the mess with the
toothbrush that asks and answers.
Thoughts
start racing, arbitrary and maybe silly. ‘December, appointments, Christmas, it
is a month of very mixed emotions this year.
As I
realize this, I stop cleaning my teeth and I take my hand down to rest on the
basin. The sound from downstairs fades, instead I hear a weak noise from the
bedroom, but it is gone before I breathe again.
There is a moment
of standstill as my thoughts return to the coming weeks. December has become a
month of commemoration for us and there is still so much sadness involved. This
really hurts a lot. Loved ones gone forever. I look down into the basin,
something wet runs across my cheek and drips into the basin. ‘Breathe. Stop
brooding’.
Looking up,
it seems somebody switched on my remote control. Still with the toothbrush in
my hand, I go back to the bedroom. Breathe. I need to hear my little girl now,
just hear her in the dark. That’s all it takes to be fine again. She’s so
quiet. I get closer, listen and can barely hear her regular breathing. Relief.
‘You should be spanked for brooding!’ Yeah, I’d consider this highly
beneficial.
I return to
the bathroom. The creature in the mirror is still holding her toothbrush as if
her life depended on it. She looks more relaxed and alive now than before. The
clatter from downstairs starts all over again. ‘What is he doing there? Sounds
like breakfast for ten or more’.
In a hurry,
I wash and put on a rather wide and woollen green dress, warm and almost shapeless, public domain style, from a
heap of fresh but unfolded clothes. This is the mountain of defeat and I have
ignored it for most of the week.
Fresh
mouth, fresh clothes, almost refreshed, hair quickly up in a bun, mascara,
that’s all … and I cannot keep my mouth closed while applying mascara.
I read the meme online, but had no time to do it myself. Nevertheless, this one
got stuck and I did not even know that keeping the mouth shut can be difficult
in such a moment. …’You could have guessed this, you couldn’t keep your mouth
shut if your life depended on it’, the woman in the mirror says. True. Sometimes. Often. Yes ok, right.
I smile at
the woman who suddenly looks so much more in the pink and also a little like Santa’s helper. Green dress, moose
indoor slippers. Hey, this is the Christmas month, after all. The preparations
around the house and especially the advent calendars have made the difference,
and as a family it will be even more awesome. … But not with my in-laws this
year, as we’ll meet in spring. Pretty late, isn't it? I sigh audibly.
“I can hear
you! You are not in bed, so come downstairs!” When did he stop being noisy? And
what could he possibly have heard? I have only been standing here most of the time.
Anyways. my legs are still cold so I go down, into the invitingly warm kitchen and am surrounded by the
smell of the sweetest pancakes east of the Atlantic. Hubby is busy putting the breakfast on the table. I have not seen so much food for two ever before. “ You look hungry." It's a fact, I am always hungry lately. A brief glance and he continues. "You choose; apple sauce,
maple syrup, Nutella and banana or sugar with a little cinnamon … Rudolph.” What kind of
smirk was that now? I look at my feet and start playing with the hem of my dress. “I don’t have a red nose, neither have
my shoes.” Hubby puts three pancakes on my plate and motions me to sit down. I am just too slow this morning, so he takes me and sits me down. "You eat, you sleep!" I nod. “No cinnamon
for me. I’ll go for chocolate and banana. Yummy.” Hubby has taken over and does
what I should do. He has tea for me, turns his back on me and I hear the sound
of a lighter. He turns back with the advent wreath I made and see one lit
candle. “Happy first advent. After all it is the Christmas month, isn’t it.”
