I spend my days covered in baby in some way or another. I am either nursing one, or carrying one, or carting one upstairs to change a nappy. Sometimes I am playing with one — or two — and they are all over me. It’s very rare that I am just me anymore, a single being, a body on my own.
Just lately, I have managed to get them both down for their naps at the same time. This is a miracle of no small proportions. E1’s nap lasts about 2 hours, maybe a bit more. The baby likes to nurse before her nap, so by the time I’ve changed her and fed her, it’s usually an hour or more into E1’s nap by the time I can put the baby down, stand to my full height, pull my shoulders back, and move around under my own weight again at last. It feels good — I always forget how good it feels until that moment. And I always know that I don’t have much time to enjoy it before the chaos begins again.
And then the cat spies her opportunity. Within moments of my emancipation, she realises I am free of clumsy, grabby, squealing babies, and she jumps up and claims a spot on my lap or my shoulder. She doesn’t get nearly as much attention as she used to and she craves a bit of love. She’s purring already. I can’t deny her this, so I let her snuggle in and I settle down, a prisoner again under another warm body.
Ah well… I can think of worse things than to be this loved!