Who would have known the sheer and incomprehensible variety of sanitary pads? Since Debbie can't do much whilst recovering from the caesarean I'm having to do some of the things that, well, I wouldn't have previously. Buying sanitary pads being a case in point. “I want the Libra brand,” says Deb, “the overnight ones, ultra-thin, without wings.” So I'm standing there in the supermarket faced with a full half row of the damned pads. They have different brands, they have ultra-thin, maxi, mini, invisible, regular, super. They have wings. They don't have wings. Wings? Wings? They even have black ones now. “Once you've had black, you never go back!” say the advertising posters. I feel completely like a pervert as I ferret around, studying the packages, reading the labels, feeling the weight of them. I end up grabbing the closest one to hand, “Sorry Deb”, I say, “they all had wings.” She knows better than to quibble over aerodynamics.
Hi, I'm Mike. I do believe I've got an online journal somewhere, and I'm kinda thinking it might be this one. But, you know, it's been so long. you might have to bear with me as I try and get back into the hang of these things!
The way I see things right now, there are three major things going on in my life.
We've got a baby who's not quite three weeks old yet. We've only just got rid of having builders doing stuff at the house, but have a whole house and shed to prepare and paint. I have more jobs on right now than I've ever had before — the deadlines blithely agreed to pre-Joshua are getting closer and closer.
Any two of those things I think I could handle. Any two of them would be tough, but I'd get through ok. But three? All at once? It seems every time I'm doing something, there's at least two other things I also need to be doing. I need to put a coat of paint on the shed roof, but there's this design I need to finish and show a client, and I need to go shopping for dinner. Oh, and Matthew needs some entertaining.
So that's pretty much why I haven't been writing. During the day I've been working at various things, we eat dinner, get Matthew off to bed, try to do a litle more work in between dishes and feedings, then stagger off to bed usually around 11pm, to be woken anywhere between 2 and 4 times during the night for a variety of reasons. Rinse and repeat the next day.
Ah, but that's the bare bones of a life. It's true, and it's tiring, and I won't be able to keep it up much longer, but it's not the whole story.
It doesn't tell of holding Joshua in my arms and having him fall asleep, his head tucked into my neck, his weight soft and warm against my chest as he makes baby sighs and gurgles, and the softness of his hair as I lean down to kiss him. It doesn't tell of the grumpy look on his face when he wakes, like an old man disturbed once too often by the world. It doesn't tell of the jokes Matthew makes, or of seeing him bend down to touch his brother, or of hearing his cry of “Daddy” and catching him running in my arms when I pick him up at the end of a day.
It doesn't tell of a shared joke with Debbie, or even just of a smile and kiss blown as we pass in the night, me handing over Joshua for another feed. Or of how much I'm missing cuddling next to her in bed as she sleeps, propped up in Matthew's bed while the pain from her caesarean eases.
And there's not a hint of the joy I'm re-discovering in hard physical labour — stripping paint, sanding, painting, digging, shifting dirt. Watching a garden take shape and a section being transformed. Or the things I'm learning as I push through more websites, feeling, at times, like this is something I'm not half bad at.
Oh, hey, my journal is to record and share things like that! Maybe I should write more often?
last | nextLink of the day
Online journals
This would be a recent article in a NZ computer magazine which mentions my journal!
Journals and blogs that I read regularly
Raising Hell
Feral Living
Hippycritical
Udder
My Life in 12 Point Font
Journal of a Writing Man
Some Jingle Jangle Morning
The Last Girl Scout
Potatoe.com
Journallife.com
Window to my Soul
Chickybabe
Sorabji.com
Yesterday's Makeup
Fifteen Milliliters
Fly Away
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Registered!
The Ageless Project
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Photo of tunnel copyright Bernd Klumpp, available from istockphoto.com