Six Months

Hiroshima day...

So Annika was six months old yesterday.

Didn’t sleep much last night.
Marin has been more willing to
wake me if Annika’s noodling at night.
“Would you be willing to do some reading?”

A good thing. Marin’s sleep is a disaster,
and she’s the one who has to work.

So I took the little one at 4 am,
not to do reading, I was not waking up.

By 5, it was clear she wasn’t going to quiet.
First she’s cooing that you’re lying there

close to her on the carpet, then she’s singing, then it’s shrieking.

Marin can’t sleep even if there’s a baby vocalizing
anywhere within a half mile.

So I put “Black Book” in the DVD player.
Dutch film. About a Jewish woman trying to survive
in Holland during WWII, working with the resistance,
sent to take an undercover role
with the occupying Germans, in the final months of the war.
Very intense movie. I love movies which keep the actual languages
even though I have to read.
Wow. I love Netflicks. I was still watching interviews
when Marin awoke at 7:30. Which is late for our morning routine.

Oops.
Now it’s tomorrow. The narrative is broken.

New narrative: If I start trying to write again,
I want to keep it up.

So I’ll post this and try
not to give in to the fatigue,
no, the exhaustion,
which comes from working
(I’m doing 15 hours at the Unitarian Fellowship
along with four guitar lessons each week)
and eating and sleeping and raising
two children.