of course, of the things worth recording, it’s not really the minute to minute descriptions of my internal states or thinking through plot points. years later, what will any of it serve me? how awful to read a long stream of continuing pep talks, melancholic details … who will care? when I look back, I suspect what I will want to read will be the details of the day, an attempt to capture how that day made me feel.
i found out from my husband that my second son rolled over several times last night. which explained for me his exhaustion all day. then i saw it myself; i went in to comfort him as he was crying himself to sleep and he was on his back, rather than his stomach. I turned him over, thinking this was calm him. he paused for a second, then flipped over again and began shrieking. i cuddled him and laid him down and sang several round of hallelujah while patting him on the back. he settled eventually.
how strange to think of the horror of this moment for him. that he has not concept of self or other. does he perceive that he himself is causing the radical change? or does it seem to him just as if some outside force put him in a position which is unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
I need to go to bed, as likely he’ll be awake again soon for nursing and comforting.
One last thing: sunday, after the oldest, awake from his nap and playing in his room, heard the younger one waking and crying in his crib. and i heard, from down here on the soda: A B C D .. because the younger one knows that what we do when his brother cries, we sing. And being that he knows only a few songs, ABCs sounds as comforting as well hallelujah.