I’m only human, I’m just a woman.
Help me believe in what I could be
And all that I am.
Show me the stairway, I have to climb.
Lord for my sake, teach me to take
One day at a time.

One day at a time sweet Jesus
That’s all I’m asking from you.
Just give me the strength
To do everyday what I have to do.
Yesterday’s gone sweet Jesus
And tomorrow may never be mine.
Lord help me today, show me the way
One day at a time.

Me: I’m tired but I can’t sleep.
Him: Go get a book to read. If you keep trying to sleep it’ll get worse.
Me: *ignores Him and closes eyes*
Him:… or you could talk to me.
Me: Hee hee.
Him: Yeah, because that will probably make you fall asleep right. Because I’m so exhilarating.
Me: I love you precisely because you’re not exhilarating. I love you because you’re boring.
Him: Thanks a lot.
Me: I love you because you’re sturdy and dependable.
Him:…
Me: Like a packhorse.
Him: Go to sleep.
Me: …
Him: Come on, at *least* a shire horse.
Me: Ok, shire horse. Can’t a packhorse be a shire horse? Or is a packhorse more like a donkey?
Him:…
Me: Hee hee.
Him: Go to sleep.
Me: I think I’m going to go blog.

#1
Me: Ethan bit my toe today. I was sitting down on the chair with my leg tucked beneath me and he was standing up beside me. I looked away for a moment and all of a sudden OW.
Him: He tried to bite my ankle yesterday.
Me: Weird boy.
Him: …
Me: Since when have I bitten your ankle??
Him: That’s just social norms.

#2 (eating raisins and in a contrary mood)
Him: Did you take those from the pack that was already open?
Me: There was a pack that was already open? … Well, now there are two packs that are open.
Him: Got expiry dates you know.
Me: They’re raisins.
Him: May have fungus.
Me: …
Him: …
Me: I like fungus.

Him and I have come to the conclusion that Ethan is really a lot like me. I shan’t sum up all the similarities because exhaustively counting the ways is both impossible and embarrassing*, but let’s just say he may be a Daddy’s boy in appearance, but is definitely a Mummy’s boy in spirit.

*By way of flavour, he forgets that he isn’t supposed to breathe while drinking, is quite contrary when it suits him, has no balance, loves pasta, does this weird lip-licking thing (according to Him; I have certainly detected nothing of the kind) and needs unusual amounts of cuddles.

Me, that is.

Today I was standing at the counter at the post office, minus brain, when the member of staff who was serving asked me what was in the package I was sending, and I dreamily replied “a birthday present for my mum”. It took me a few seconds to realise he wasn’t really interested in my filial piety.

Then later in the afternoon I got on the escalator and someone tried to pick me up. It would have been flattering except he was creepy, so after he told me I had a sweet face and asked whether I wanted to be his friend I politely told him that I didn’t think it was a good idea, then proceeded to look studiously in the opposite direction and thank my lucky stars that escalators are short.

In other news, today Ethan woke up and had a big milk feed, then ate a big bowl of porridge for breakfast, then had a big milk feed after his morning nap, then had a big bowl of pasta with pork, tomatoes and herbs, then snacked on a biscuit and bits of my fish while we were out in Birmingham, then had two biscuits in the car on the way home, and then had mushroom risotto for dinner before finishing off his epicurean day with a nice big milk feed. I think someone is having a growth spurt.

And finally, the reason that you have been looking at totem animal poetry for the past two months is that I have not been juggling everything successfully and have had to give priority to fending off evil nursery bugs and going to work with all my buttons buttoned in the right order.

I love this. Particularly the last verse.

Words from a Totem Animal

Distance
is where we were
but empty of us and ahead of
me lying out in the rushes thinking
even the nights cannot come back to their hill
any time

I would rather the wind came from outside
from mountains anywhere
from the stars from other
worlds even as
cold as it is this
ghost of mine passing
through me

I know your silence
and the repetition
like that of a word in the ear of death
teaching
itself
itself
that is the sound of my running
the plea
plea that it makes
which you will never hear
oh god of beginnings
immortal

I might have been right
not who I am
but all right
among the walls among the reasons
not even waiting
not seen
but now I am out in my feet
and they on their way
the old trees jump up again and again
strangers
there are no names for the rivers
for the days for the nights
I am who I am
oh lord cold as the thoughts of birds
and everyone can see me

Caught again and held again
again I am not a blessing
they bring me
names
that would fit anything
they bring them to me
they bring me hopes
all day I turn
making ropes
helping

My eyes are waiting for me
in the dusk
they are still closed
they have been waiting a long time
and I am feeling my way toward them

I am going up stream
taking to the water from time to time
my marks dry off the stones before morning
the dark surface
strokes the night
above its way
There are no stars
there is no grief
I will never arrive
I stumble when I remember how it was
with one foot
one foot still in a name

I can turn myself toward the other joys and their lights
but not find them
I can put my words into the mouths
of spirits
but they will not say them
I can run all night and win
and win

Dead leaves crushed grasses fallen limbs
the world is full of prayers
arrived at from
afterwards
a voice full of breaking
heard from afterwards
through all
the length of the night

I am never all of me
unto myself
and sometimes I go slowly
knowing that a sound one sound
is following me from world
to world
and that I die each time
before it reaches me

When I stop I am alone
at night sometimes it is almost good
as though I were almost there
sometimes then I see there is
in a bush beside me the same question
why are you
on this way
I said I will ask the stars
why are you falling and they answered
which of us

I dreamed I had no nails
no hair
I had lost one of the senses
not sure which
the soles peeled from my feet and
drifted away
clouds
It’s all one
feet
stay mine
hold the world lightly

Stars even you
have been used
but not you
silence
blessing
calling me when I am lost

Maybe I will come
to where I am one
and find
I have been waiting there
as a new
year finds the song of the nuthatch

Send me out into another life
lord because this one is growing faint
I do not think it goes all the way

W.S. Merwin

List of things to do, made on first day back at work: get settled in, eat breakfast next time, replenish painkiller stash, cook more, rule world.

List of things I did, made on first day back at work: missed Ethan like crazy, worried about milk supply, remembered how to walk in high heels and skirt, got new job.

After a stressful day involving an Ethan who at nursery didn’t sleep a wink and utterly refused milk from a bottle, which does not bode well for when I start work next week, he made it all better this evening by crawling round the coffee table; seeing me lying down on the sofa; squawking with delight; crawling up to me; pulling himself up; and bashing me on the nose with his balloon. And planting a big wet open-mouthed kiss on my eye.

Part of me is missing.