Mornings with me, G and Alana become our own existential morality play.   Someone is ready to get up when someone is ready to sleep, someone is squirming when someone is settling, someone is throwing toys up and down when someone is underneath them, someone is kicking someone in the balls when someone does not want their balls being kicked.

Alana wakes everyone up during the night with bursts of teething-inspired screaming.   G wakes everyone during the night incoherently mumbling “cho choc choc milk choc choc milk mommy choc choc chocolate milk.”   I must wake everyone up with the forcefield of stress and insomnia that permeates off me.

I meant to get up earlier yesterday.   I meant to get up earlier cause I meant to be sleeping during my sleeping.   Instead, Alana threw a fit at 6:00am, and I settled down with her and G while Beckie snuck out to work.   Except the 2 of them kept me in a state of semi-sleep deprivation.   About 9, I finally told G to get out of bed and get herself a bowl a cereal. In retrospect, I think she was inspired by feelings of empowerment and the realization she could feed herself.

then I heard thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk as G streaked across the house
then I heard drag-drag-drag-drag-drag   and looked up to see G’s little yellow chair in the bedroom facing the bed.
then I heard thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk as G streaked across the house
then I heard drag-drag-drag-drag-drag   And looked up to see G’s little yellow table setup neatly in front of the chair.
then I heard thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk and promptly fell back to sleep.

I thought I woke up to see G sitting at her table.   I definitely woke up to G dragging a kitchen towel back to the kitchen saying “I’m cleaning up all the spills.”

I found some milk sloshed in the hallway, and a few cheerios scattered about the foyer.   I don’t really know what happened.   G shut up, Alana and I slept.

Today again I tried to sleep, to lose myself in my solipsism and comfy pillows. The presence of others intruded upon me, toy toolboxes opening and closing, toy drills roaring to life, while babies and toddlers stood face-to-face along crib walls, reading books and singing and trying to say hello in french, but all i heard over and over was G going “bonjur bonjur bonjur bonjur!!!“.

Parenthood is an attempt to infuse a reality and meaning by fulfilling a biological destiny and perpetuating one’s essence. Its a masochistic desire to be self-limiting, using your own reflective consciousness to shape that of others upon you. Mine want to get up early, I want to sleep in, there is no exit.