At the park, Tom and I took turns pushing Artie in the swing – his latest obsession – when a little girl wearing a periwinkle blue princess dress and floral sun hat came up to us.Continue reading “Little Angels”
A few weeks after the baby was born, my mother called and advised me to start keeping a diary for him.
“Just a line or so every day,” she said. “They change so quickly and you’ll want to remember the smaller moments from these days.”Continue reading “Portrait of the Baby at Nine Months”
On Monday this week, Tom turned thirty-eight. A year and three months have passed since I last wrote Tom’s Thursday Thoughts, though there wasn’t much writing, just the last few rather bittersweet photos I’d taken of Tom the day we left New York. Continue reading “Tom’s Thursday Thoughts on Turning 38”
Our neighbors have a fat toddler.
Continue reading “Sydney Coronavirus Days, 2”
I’m not so much inspired to write this blog by recent events as I am by Tom’s brother and mom, who have recently started blogging from Vienna and Washington D.C., respectively, documenting their days unfolding in the midst of Coronavirus. Why not, I thought. One day I’ll want to look back and recall the flavor of these strange times. Continue reading “Sydney Coronavirus Days, 1”
I should be napping because the baby is (finally) napping, but these blog posts aren’t going to write themselves.
Since my the last post, some things have gotten easier. Cracked nipples have healed and I no longer stay up later to pump. Going out and about with the baby has become a normal occurrence and something I look forward to. Continue reading “Mr. Baby, Go to Sleep”
Five days ago, Tom and I celebrated our one year anniversary in Oz. And today, the baby turns 12 weeks old. People call this “the longest shortest time”. But around here we (Tom and I) like to sigh a long sigh and say, “It’s really the longest longest time.” Continue reading “Mr. Baby”
Pregnancy is a test of willpower. It seems to be a series of tiny tests I conquered somewhat regularly in the second trimester but now, nearing the end and feeling fatigued most of the day most days, find myself failing one after another.
Should I get out of bed? Should I read something aside from internet trash? Should I eat something aside from cereal? Should I go to yoga? Should I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, turn to my other side, or get a drink of water? The discomfort is great but my lack of willpower is often greater. I wonder, when labor strikes, where I’ll summon up the energy to push the baby out. There is an alternative to pushing, I know, but I’m hoping all the lying around right now is actually self-preservation for the big day. One can hope. Continue reading “Pancakes”