Passage West

I actually got to write today. For the second day in a row, I did about an hour. This, compared to what most writers do--four hours a day is a standard people toss around like it's a minimum--is a joke. How am I ever going to write this book???? Between nursings and naps and walks in the stoller and Hopper and feedings, the day gets very very small.  Tonight was hilarious. Mr. M. was totally against the idea of bed at his usual time, 7 PM, didn't want to nurse down, didn't want to rock and then my step mother's grandmother's  rocking chair ACTUALLY broke while we were rocking--as in pieces fell on the floor.  I kept putting M. in the crib and rubbing his back and singing and then walking out of the room with the door cracked while he he stood in his crib and talked and yelled to me and at me for an hour and a half while I made my own dinner of black beans simmered with hot peppers, poblanos, onions, garlic, lemon juice and salt and pepper and a sprinkling of Parmesan on top (the odd things we eat when alone), washed out a drawer, read the Super Baby Food book for a few moments, put some laundry in the bathroom, had a beer, ATE my dinner while standing at the counter, wished Dan was not bartending and could be home to see this whole hilarious thing of our son talking and yelling and having for the first time in his life NO INTEREST in me nursing him to sleep....and then, finally, he put himself to sleep. That's NEVER happened before. I went in, pulled the cream colored with brown edging quilt his Godfather Craig gave him over his shoulders and closed the door. He made me laugh so much tonight--he was in a great mood--no crying, just smiles and chatter and yelling and playing with his stuffed animals. I love him more than I ever thought possible. And to have loved him through such a hard time with no money, no home that's our own, with all the time we've spent in the car--my heart breaks with deepest love for him and respect for his patience with me.

I've started re-reading the Little House books. One, because I am writing about reading them as a child and also again as we went west. BUT, also, because, as I write my own book I can't handle much else. I was struck last night as I started Little House in the Big Woods, all the killing that is involved in homesteading and how removed from the death of the things we eat we are now, thankfully. Also, it's interesting how Laura sets Pa up to be someone we like but are also a little frightened of--he has an aggressive edge. Later, we love him for his heroism and how big his dreams are. But in this story, in the beginning, he's a little scary.

Ok. Thems my thoughts. Our apartment is STILL after two months not set up--with Dan in school 3 days in Boston and bartending 2 days and my focus on work...I never thought I would exist in such chaos. Here I go to do some dishes....

Love, Caitlin.