Tricky is 21 months now and that means a nice little letter with accompanying pictures, but with all the shrieking and gargling and steaming up the walls round here just recently, I got nothin'.
We have briefly decamped to Newcastle to visit with Aphwah (his grandmother) and Poppy(his grandfather) and Jimmy (their dog) because Tricky was shrieking their names out in the middle of the night in between tortured gasps and snot ridden snores and also because we wanted to steam someone else's room up for a change. Two nights of vapouriser and three nights of antibiotics have worked their steamy antibiotic ju ju on our child and apart from a slightly raspy voice and a taste for human flesh, there seems little other effect. Except for sleep. Last night he slept from 7 at night till 7 in the morning without a peep and it was magnificent. All that anxiety from watching his distress and feeling him sink his teeth into my shoulder has pretty much dissipated.
Today we went to see a kids show that I co-wrote with my ex-husband TWENTY YEARS AGO (for fuck's sake). It contains garbage monsters, a lost little girl and a foul mouthed seagull and features a strong recycling message. Tricky was excited about seeing the garba monsas but when they emerged from their piles of rubbish at the start of the show his lip was quivering and he uttered a few thin cat like wails. It was touch and go as to whether or not we bailed but he gritted his tiny teeth (including recently appearing molars and incisors) and soon settled down.
It was funny to see something I had written so long ago and from another part of my life, even though I had rewritten some of it last year for production. And it was nice to see Tricky watch something I had written, even though he spent at least the same amount of time eating banana bread and then scouring his seat for crumbs.
Today I am 5 days past the transfer. Next Saturday is my pregnancy test. I'm still chugging back the horrid tea and popping the progesterone pessaries. I'll try and see the Chinese Fertility Goddess when I get back to Sydney tomorrow. Last time, the time it worked, I remember getting waves of gentle nausea very early on, before the test. I felt slightly carsick or hungover.
This time I just feel tired. And constipated. And relieved that Tricky is getting better.
What I don't feel is anxious. It's like, this time round, I just don't have the time or the emotional energy for that shit.
This is going to work, or it won't.
5 Nonfiction Books for Christmas 2017
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