I sit under the shower listening to the melody the droplets of water make as they hit our uneven tiles.
And even now, I can still hear Emily’s cry within them.
However, this is not possible, because she is asleep.
Or at least I think she is asleep.
She was asleep when I hopped in.
Is she asleep?
Should I call out to Michael to check?
But if I call him, what if that wakes her?
Surely if she were crying, he would go up, so there is no need to micro manage the situation.
I will simply sit here and enjoy the sensation of this glorious first world essential.
I know I should stick my head out, but it is deliciously warm and steamy under here, and I do not want to break the spell.
Oh God! There is nothing quite like a hot shower.
I wonder how long I have.
Is she asleep?
Should I check?
Does it make me a bad mummy if I do not check?
When did I become the person who feels guilty about taking five minutes for herself? I noticed it first thing yesterday morning when I was once again attempting to stretch through my fatigue via a quick thirty-minute yoga session.
I found it difficult to relax, because I was worried about Emily the entire time.
Even though, I was on the landing outside her room, and could have gone to her without hesitation.
Speaking of which, are we creating a monster?
Parenting is such a gamble.
There are simply too many consequences to keep in check.
If we let her cry it out are we flooding her brain with stress hormones, thus hampering her emotional development?
Or if we go to her at every whimper are we creating a potential rug-brat?
Oh, this water is good.
I hope Michael remembers I am here, and does not turn the tap on in the kitchen.
I am not prepared for the cold spirt, which will inevitably follow.
Should I get him to check on Little?
Goodness, who knew having a baby, and trying to run a business would be this hard.
My to do list simply lengthens with each day rather than becoming shorter as a girl would hope.
We are so far behind with everything.
I have no idea how we are going to get this bad boy off the ground. I feel like I have the capacity for one or the other, but not both.
Definitely not both.
I am so tired.
I do not get to blog nearly as often as I would like.
Why does my writer voice always kick in when either I am in the shower, or half-asleep in my cosy bed, the coffee shop, on the train, or at any other time when I do not have a keyboard handy, or it is not convenient?
And although creativity knows no bounds, unfortunately three in the morning is considered out of them.
Having my desk in our bedroom is proving a problem.
I would write more if my workstation were out of my snoring husband’s ear shot.
He says it will not wake him, but I know my fingers pounding the keys will disturb his slumber.
I try to protect him from the rigours of parenting.
And part of that involves my going to the cutie cute cute the moment she stirs in the middle of the night.
And not simply sitting next to his sleeping body and typing whenever the inspiration strikes.
Oh, should I check on Emily?
I am almost sure I can hear her now…
Yes, I am sure.
I think I am sure.
We need more coffee pods.
I love coffee.
Maybe that can be tomorrow’s adventure.
Oh, I guess it is time to get out.
I have been here long enough.
After all, I did say I was coming up to bed.
God I need some sleep.
Six hours would be enough.
Yes, I would settle for six.
Oh ok, so five. How about five?
Four? Any takers for four?
That dummy has to go.
I should check on Emily…
However, I do not want to get out.
I know if I leave this sacred space, I will simply stay awake waiting for Emily to wake up.
She will need a dress for the party on Saturday.
Something warm and comfortable.
I wonder if the second hand shop up the street will have something.
Father’s day is just around the corner.
God, what are we going to get Michael?
Mmmmmmmmmmm… The shower is so relaxing.
This would have to be one of my very favourite places in the entire world.