"...Something.
.. say anything..." I say to myself.
I don't listen to my internal voice. I listen to my little boy who says: you don't have to talk if you don't want to..."
TO which DD says:
Seminal... this is the part where you get angry with me for calling you on your shit!" I say nothing.
I stare at DD and say nothing.
What brought on all of this? Well, this time it was the sound of Shamolian (our 9 month old baby). I had left him to crawl all over the futon (or roll rather) while I flicked the television. I was on the futon to. I'd turn him every few seconds, but mostly he didn't like it. He made struggling sounds, sounds of fatigue and sounds that seemed to say: pick me up... pick me up...". So I turned off the television, got flat on my back (on the futon), and tired to put him on my stomach to sleep - he often likes this.
He didn't .. and at this point, I can understand why.
So, I'll put him at my side.
DD came into the room seconds later. She asked me if I had been sleeping. "No, I hadn't been sleeping I said." "I heard Shom in distress"
To be continued. More to be added.
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1 comment:
Hi, my name is Angel. I'm an eco-feminist environmental social worke/poet from Nova Scotia. I'm currently living in Honduras doing volunteer work. I cam across your blog and One Tenacious Baby Mama's blog by linking from my best friend, Thinking Girl's, blog. Just a note to let you know I love both your blogs. I admire your openess as you share your experiences of real manhood.
Best wishes.
littlewoodenman.com
http://ashax.blogspot.com/
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