xeryfyn's Diaryland Diary

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My girl falls asleep in my arms and it strikes me that she is, right now, just the perfect size to fill my armload. She stretches out in her sleep, and I can easily cradle her head in the crook of one arm and her feet nestle nicely in a comfortable span into the crook of the other.

If I am really good, like tonight, I can type with both hands and she sleeps with the rhythm of the words flowing through my fingertips, lulled by the steady clackety clack of my hen pecking typing pattern. She has lived with it her entire existence, in utero and onwards through life so I suppose that she simply finds it a natural comfort.

I think that I will miss being able to hold her as she gets bigger. Already she is at an age where she can not sit still for very long. Too much to look at, explore, climb on, taste and smell. Everywhere, something to marvel at and something to want. It is marvelous and exhausting all at the same time. I wonder if she identifies everything in its place as being part of "home".

We have almost decided to move in with my parents and on Sunday we are getting together for a "talk" about it. I am already starting to miss the idea of living without anyone looking over my shoulder at what I am eating, what I am feeding my child, at how I keep my house. I just need to keep reminding myself that it is only for a short duration and that my reward for enduring such extended torture is a house of my very own. It is incentive enough, as it should be, and I think that we will survive. Still, I am already mourning the death of my promise to never move in with my parents ever again. Ahh c'est la vie...

10:13 p.m. - 2003-12-05

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