I feel I should write a post, instead of fobbing you off with drawings, or photos. I haven't felt like writing for days now, only drawing, but the drawings I want to do are time-consuming, and I only get to sit and draw after 9pm. By 9pm I just want to fall sideways and go to bed. You should see the animated films I would make if I had the time; they're brilliant.
The other reason I have little to write about? I'm HAPPY. Really, boringly, happy. Life is suddenly, blossomingly, blue-skyishly, wonderful. Winter stopped. The clocks sprang forward. The weather has been ludicrously June/July warm, and is staying that way. It's light until 8PM. We live with the windows and doors open, walking more slowly than usual, staring at the green leaves, the white blossom, the bluuuue sky. Hullo trees hullo flowers. Bliss. I don't want to be anywhere but England right now.
About ten days ago, I weaned Ossie, completely, and it marked the end of a two-year stint of being his life-support system. It is over. I have done my time. I do not want to do it again. I took an absolute hammering from my brick-shithouse slab of a baby boy, and it was a long recovery. I thought my bits were going to fall apart, but I do not have bits that are falling apart. I am better. I am mended. I did as the physio told me, and lived in a chair going CLENCH and RELAX for months, and everything went back where it was supposed to, with a six-month-long slow trombone noise. About a month ago, the last pelvic pain finally went away. I am better. I am back.
Life is GOOD. I am getting just about enough sleep at night, and the sun is shining by day. I hadn't anticipated this feeling, of being back, after weaning a baby. The psychological effect of no longer being someone's life support is like sailing up into the air in a beautiful big hot air balloon. I'm just really, really happy. I feel like I just came out of a burrow after sitting in the dark for two years.
Oh, and I took up smoking again! Smoking is great.
So that's where I am; back where I left off, in spring of 2009, enjoying the sunshine, feeling free and saying I didn't want any more children. I mean it this time. Luckily, one doesn't get pregnant from being poked in the eyes or harangued with spoons. That happens to me a lot these days.
15 comments:
I weep at the end of your lenten daily postings, but perhaps now I'll catch up with everything that's precisely forty days overdue, since I have scoured your archives and happily forwarded your blog to everyone I know.
God, I remember that thing about the weaning. I hadn't till you mentioned it, but now I do.
And I'm very glad your blog is not eating all my comments any more, even if it does hide them because I don't have a blogger account...
I heard about your missing comments! I checked the bit on Blogger where it hoards all the comments it thinks are spam, but there weren't any of yours there, just Japanese comments of Nordic saga proportions. On behalf of the bit of my blog that ate your comments, I apologise.
Cheers for you, and for Spring!
I believe Blogger did not find my comments worthy. Alas.
Anyway, my 15 year old and I laughed so hard at the video of Derek the cat (and, of course, at the Easter one--but that type of humor is so BROAD, you know?)we annoyed the fuck out of the 8 year old, who was trying to read. Though neither of them found "Happy New Yurt" quite as amazing as I did. I watch it whenever I feel sad and cold.
I'm watching those brilliant animations in my head right now.
Brilliant!
I don't have children...I only have a romantic notion of what it would be like to be a parent...without all the difficult/painful parts.
Reality will hit hard one day, I'm sure.
Keep enjoying the sunshine and life. :)
I would just like to say that I do not feel remotely fobbed off when you post drawings or photos.
I adore your photos and drawings! I have thoroughly enjoyed all of your Lenten efforts. More please!
welcome back. glad your lady bits are good to go.
Suddenly, I have the song "Back In the Saddle Again" stuck in my head. Seems apt.
Congrats on the rejuvenation of your "good china", as a friend's grandmother used to say.
This post makes me ache for the future. I hadn't weaned the first when I got the surprising news that I was pregnant again. It has been one long life-support session over here.
When I was pregnant I dreamed of the substances I would ingest when I was no longer nursing - planning drug binges two years in advance. Now that I am nursing, the need seems less urgent but I still imagine there will be some sort of "this body is MINE" celebration.
And the bits - six months, you say?
I heartily applaud your bits (from a safe distance).
Wishing you all joy, and many more taut undercarriage orgasms to come.
tee hee.
LOL - ROFLOL! I just stumbled upon your brilliant blog after following a link, and now I'm totally gobsmacked. I luuurve your blog. If you ever write and publish a book, I will buy it and read it and tell everyone I know to buy it, too. - You made me remember the time when I weaned my son (well, he is 25 now - don't fear for my sanity, I weaned him decades ago!- evil grin inserted here), and I exactly know what you're talking about. - please forgive my faulty english, I am german and a country bumpkin... Greetings from sunny Germany!
God, yes, how well I remember the post-weaning return-to-self. My slabs of baby nursed until 17 months, oh god what was I thinking. Anytime I think I want more children I need to remind myself: life-support system.
Chicago has been rainy and cold for a solid month now--40 and overcast again today? OH HOW ORIGINAL. I am about to hop a jet and come live in your garden just to get some damn SUN. Looks lovely, is what I'm trying to say.
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