Day 1: Without Hnn-Hnn and Bumpa
It’s been less than 24 hours since I dropped hnn-hnn (Jan-Jan) and Bumpa off at the airport. Survival mode is already engaged. The Mirkwood fog must have been pouring through the vents as we slept. What day is it? What’s that noise? What’s that smell? I sold my soul to the sirens of Sesame Street at 6:30am. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last. Though sickness fills this home, no one is able to escape. The binky has managed to get away a few times, but a search party has always foiled its attempt for freedom.
I begin to realize my house is full of mouths to feed – and they’re all begging for more. There’s the machine in the kitchen that spews steam at me if I interrupt its meals. It wants all my remnants of past snacks and failed attempts to get Juliette to eat lunch. There’s the tall machine with cold fluid pumping through its veins that bellows for milk and produce. I can hear the deep moans of the twin beasts in the laundry room. “Feed me, Josh, feed me”. Kallie keeps the tiny mouth satisfied.
We are still trying to find the circle of life with the introduction of a new species to the food chain. We give Madeline nourishment – and she’s learning to smile back to nourish us. It’s about finding the rhythm. 1, 2, 3, 4. Me, you, her, more. Sleep, eat, clean the floor. Repetition. It’s not jazz yet, but we’re getting the groove.
If you’re reading this, it means I’ve come up for air. All is well. Send love.83 views