2:18AM.. Emma asleep on chest in rocking chair, back forth forth back and mirrored in all the ticks, and ticks, tocks tocks tocks, I don’t stop just keep biting the seconds and moments that build and cook our story. Didn’t post what I wanted to tonight, or last night — time making no sense now anyway, just a nonsensical notion that I realize doesn’t apply to parents with newborn!! — had to sleep, so I did, from 9 something to around 1:30. I surpassed and surprised even my Self. I had to note this, the chair and me and me holding her, she resituates herself in the center of my sternum, sigh let out, and again peace. But again I have to keep my self writing– no missed deadlines, no slowing, no difference in my character ways. Only an intensification.
For this little empress. My sweet scribble shover. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be having this first-ever rocking chair session. Maybe this room, HER room-her turf her zone her land her BEAT-will be shared with her writer papa. But I have to keep her happy, content, tethered in love like me with her.