Sorry I’m a little behind on my blog. As anyone with ears, eyes, and a toddler knows, it’s been raining here in Miami and raining hard, practically EVERY night. That means every night, rather than writing, I’ve been up comforting my 2 year old. Assuring her that the thunder isn’t going to get her. And rain is only water, the same rain that comes down during the day. No, the absence of the sun doesn’t turn rain into something monster scary. Though I can’t figure what monster she can imagine that isn’t cuddy, blue and cookie eating.
She’s afraid of the thunder and isn’t sure what to make of the lightening. And she is as sensitive as an exposed nerve ending. She is up at the first vibe of lightening vibration. Before the first drop of rain has even fallen. Once the rain really starts, we’re up until it finishes.
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I put her in my bed. So she lies next to me. Leaving her in the crib at the foot of my bed just means that I’m up anyway. But having to get up and down every two minutes seconds. I can’t bear hearing her cry.
In my bed, she stays up and “talks” to me. She also steals my pillows. And tosses them on the floor. And she’s a blanket stealer. So with the cat on top of me, and her next to me, and no pillows, I lie quietly with my daughter next to me, waiting for the thunder to stop, and her to talk herself out, and fall asleep.
Yeah, there are some things more pleasurable in life than writing.