it’s hard to believe we found out about eddy so long ago. and harder to believe the time he’s been here. and hard to believe how much life has changed. and hard to believe how much it hasn’t.
they say life will never be the same.
and it won’t.
and it isn’t.
but it is almost too.
there’s still me and john and hank. us. but with a boy. a bonus boy. who comes along with us wherever we go. and falls asleep on the sofa just like the rest of us. with us. like us.
he’s so like us.
we sleep we walk we eat we talk.
we lie down a lot.
the first few months were magic. quiet, relaxed, tired hazy magic. then 6 months marked and things went wilder. faster. louder. chat and food and banging and laughs. arms in the air and rubbing together feet. he was strong all along the boy. standing and grabbing and moving and pushing. up always up. he wanted to be up. up on his feet from so early on and then doing it himself from the cot from my knees. thunder in his thighs and bags in his eyes. like his papa in the legs and the bags just like me. sorry son.
you worry you’ll forget. all the magic.
dancing in the bedroom to billie holiday to sleep. thick dark hair all tufts and gold crinkle tips. falling out and coming back so fair.
he’s so blonde now.
lying on bed eddy in my arms and hank at my feet. all the so many days dancing in the kitchen in big t-shirts and just pants.
the big kitchen life at its most very best.
things are a juggle. work walk the dog cook breakfast lunch dinner. simple things made a giant-baby bit harder. visit this friend that one. make sure the boy knows our life. let’s go here. that restaurant. fuck, the washing. the family want to come over. walk the dog.
start something never finish it.
days broken up into short too quick segments before eddy gets bored hungry tired and we have to stop.
before he’s being cute funny great and we have to stop.
because we want to. to stop. to just stop what we’re doing and laze. all the time. he makes us go slow. everything disorganised but you have to be organised. yet we like it.
i like that sometimes most times things can’t get done. i like that he means we have to just not. i like that the dishes pile high with no one to blame. and we order takeaways lets not lie it’s great.
we don’t have the gadgets the piles of toys. we don’t have set bed time or bath days or naps. what routine we have is ours. is his. and it’s easier. for us at the moment anyway. we talk about how it could bite us in the ass. him fitting in to our day not us to his. and now with this age its starting to change. but he’s healthy and happy and he suits our way. he’s growing and learning and laughing and so clever.
and it’s magic.
and it’s a juggle.
and it’s so fun.
and WE’RE TIRED.
we’re tired but he crawls like he’s been shot in the leg and we love it. and he plays the ukulele and the harmonica and he drums. badly but he does it so well. always noise. and we laugh. a lot. and take photos of nothing else. which is so silly but true. a camera full of a man dog and boy.
the big three.
the summer was hot. his first summer so lucky. and he stopped our hearts breaking too far when we lost someone special. thanks big guy.
and he has 6 teeth and the most goofball smile. his arms are still croissants. but longer. he’s tall. cartoon eyebrows still cartoons. please stay that way forever.
and he waits for ‘gazuntight’ after every sneeze and laughs. he laughs and he screams and he’s into everything and more. he wanted to shake things. that was a great phase. and everything small must be touched with one finger. and he hates the blender. hand dryers. baby change rooms were a horror for a while but it’s over. he’s obsessed with the toilet. in it every chance. and shaking the oven. that’s new. and he loves to eat man he loves to eat. we go out to restaurants. for coffee. for beer. but even since i started this things have changed even more. there’s more always more. everyday something else. more magic. more laughs. but not more sleep. not more sleep. i look forward to that.
there’s too much to say.
you worry you’ll forget all the magic.
but it’s right here.
and we’re tired.
this love is wild.