Thursday, May 31, 2012

Mummy, on time and engagement.

1. Alec pops out another word -- "Mummy!" Sometimes he gets it muddled and it comes out as "Mee-moo". He uses it lovingly on me, and on my possessions (my handkerchief, my apron hanging on the door and my slippers), as if they are a part of me that I have carelessly left lying around. He has been saying "Dad-dad" for about two months now, and I've been waiting for my own word. I've read that it takes two years for a child to understand that his mother is a separate person. Giving me a name must be a step in this direction, though he doesn't use it to call me yet, and a wicked part of me finds it very sad.

2. "It's a railway cottage," he tells me over the phone about his (newish) home. "There's the railway line at the bottom of the garden... in fact, listen!" and far off there's the rumble and squeal of a train going by.

3. The news makes Nick and me very happy. It makes us recall our own engagement, and we tell the story (polished smooth with wear) once again to each other.

Done, moon and Irish fairy tales.

1. A meeting that is over by 9.30am. 2. A big full moon is stuck on next door's chimney pots. 3. By my bed is a large and comforting boo...