Advent morning

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.”