Girlie was playing around the back of my dress
Walking, skipping while babble singing to the cats
to me, to her father, to her brother.
A trip to her room, a trip back up to my bed
back and forth seven or eight trips before bed
She is a boisterous child, we run her through
the yard, the woods, she jumps the length
of the driveway, giggling and screaming
“jomp, jomp, jomp, 1-2-3-4ā¦”
my little marching majorette has boundless energy
This morning I woke from my sleep induced stupor
and waddled to take a shower
I removed clothes and plop
the individual pieces of her mobile
dropped from my dress
She had gently deposited twenty pieces
of plastic geometric shapes in the folds of my dress
Sweet Girlie. I slept with her presents
tucked under my shoulder blades
like budding wings. Magical
a gift to help me sleep
a reminder that my toddler loves me
Yesterday, she gave me a cup of juice
and instructed me to drink, “Dink, dink juice”
She is an angel, living and breathing
as all of my children were as they
separate from me, their incubator and food source
Morning naked cuddle time resulted
after struggling to get her into a diaper
sane people allow the skin to rest out of the
moist plastic gel confines that must irritate
She greets me each morning, differently
but with a cherub’s smile. I remove the
offensive articles of clothing and hygiene
She says “Code, banket”
I give her what she needs
time with Mommy
naked under a blanket
skin to skin
outside the womb
Amanuensis Sobriquet-Reverie 
“skin to skin outside the womb” Remember the first time you held her, too thrilled at finally feeling her new skin against yours, to pay any heed to the medical attention your nether regions were receiving? How lovely that you still do this š
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I feel calm when she’s with me. I carried my boys in a front slung baby holder, so they could nurse while I gardened. They are each so unique. Not quite of this world and society. Wish I could have moved further away into the woods or mountains. I have to take what I can get.
I’m enjoying her curiosity. š She puts her hand on my chin and rubs me when I’m not smiling. Is she supposed to me so aware? I love my kids.
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It’s strange watching them grow up and knowing that although they are of you they’re not you – they have thoughts and ideas which you can’t see. It’s frightening and exciting and wonderful and overwhelming all at the same time.
The strange miracle of life…
I’ve been having trouble staying connected to the interworld. How are things with you at the moment?
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I try to keep thing simple, knowing it is impossible. Then I crash. Trying to exercise through gardening… I’ve got my fingers crossed for you as well. Trying to let go of the inevitable anxiety over boys 1 and 3 legal problems. There’s nothing I can do…
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We call this complex mess we live in civilization. There was a time when each member of the human race knew pretty well who or what their enemies were, and their methods of defence were simple, if not always successful. It may have been harsh, but it was simple – and life is harsh in so many new ways now.
Let’s run away to the forest…
{{{hugs}}}
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Some of us were born in the wrong time. I would have been an awesome medicine woman. Picking medicinal herbs daily, populating the nearby village with children. What would your role have been? {{{hugs}}}
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I would have built huts and woven the fibres of bark into warm clothing and blankets for the winter. In between times I’d have scaled trees to find the ripest fruit, and come to you for a poultice of herbs every time I tried unsuccessfully to steal honey from the bees.
And I would sat around the fire, sharing the stories of our forefathers…
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I would build that fire and tend it while making herbal teas. Know anyone with a couple hundred acres of undeveloped land? š
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Funny you should say that – I did, but she sold it after her daughter moved onto it and set up a yurt and a permaculturegarden. Round here the authorities don’t like people living with nature because they choose to – it’s only allowed if those people have no option. They turn a blind eye to all the homeless people living under hedges and in tiny tents along the riverbank, because they can’t be bothered with them – but as soon as someone buys a bit of land and lives on it in a simple way, they serve an eviction notice. So my friend’s daughter was kicked off her mother’s land, and there was nothing her mother could do about it. Our local authority stinks.
I don’t suppose you want to live in the UK anyway.
Somewhere in South America maybe. We need meadowland surrounded on all sides by forest – and there needs to be cacao in the vicinity š
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People with motivation and good ideas are considered to be a threat to our tax base, here in the US. If you own property and live on it as opposed to being homeless and squatting, you have the means to be political or influential. Though I would never be political. Yuck.
No, I’m not so fond of the UK, due to my ex.
You find a place and I’ll start packing. š
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We’ll pool our resources. I have a couple hundred pounds in the bank, a tin of shirt-buttons, and a string of glass beads. That should buy a square metre or two of meadow land…
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I have a yard full of steel, maybe I should build a boat and come pick you up?
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I’ll be packed and waiting on the shore of the Atlantic on Friday morning (I can’t make it before then because I do my voluntary job on Thursdays) š
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Girlie and I will be waving balloons and streamers on our dream voyage. š
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