Time

Ten minutes to three. Ten minutes until they come home. Ten minutes for the mind numbing loneliness of taking care of a newborn to end and a chance to interact with actual, speaking human beings. I'm happy. I pace the house and look down at K, a two month old finally asleep within the crook of my arm. I observe with furrowed brows the space below his forehead that is red and flakey from rubbing his face into my collarbone too many times. I don't usually do this but today I wait on the front porch because frankly I can't stand to be alone a second longer than I have to. M pulls into the driveway with our second grade girl A coming home from school. I see his head flicker with some surprise to see me through the darkly tinted windows of his black car. I'm so happy to see him but we've been fighting and so I avert my eyes and smile instead upon our daughter as her tiny frame hoists the heavy black car door open. She runs to me and I purse my lips and shoosh her quietly through a raised finger to my lips, alluding to the sleeping baby in my arms. She tiptoes uietly and kisses K on the lips. I still haven't looked at M. Apparently he is annoyed with my moodiness towards him. I have been moody, I know it but not without justification. For one thing I am tired day and night and besides I am with this baby very nearly all of my waking and sleeping hours. There are nights M does not stay the night. There are days he does not come at all. For these reasons alone I feel like I have some license to bitch a little. M gestures to me if I'd like him to hold the baby. I hesitate for a moment. I don't mind holding the baby, I just don't like doing it in six hour shifts all by myself. Still, I pass the baby on to M as we are still standing outside, and I run inside jovially explaining to him that I've got poo on my sleeve and I need to change. I'm hoping the comment sounds funny enough for him to realize I am trying to make amends but he looks back at me bank-faced, somewhat annoyed and doesn't respond. Never mind, I fun inside and after I've basked in the simple joys in a clean t-shirt and jeans I'm about to step out but I pass a pile of dishes that need washing and are calling to me. I finish the pile and look up at the clock. It's three forty-five. Forty-five minutes have passed and M and A and baby are outside doing God knows what fun and jolly things and no they haven't checked to see what Mommy is doing or whether she'd like to join them. It's ten to four now and the loneliness is still palpable even with the three people I love most in the world just steps away. You see, I'm getting a bit misty eyed for maybe the fourth time today but I can't help but feel a little sorry for myself. I know what you are thinking, why don't I just go out there and join them? I know it is childish and immature to sulk here in my room and write about it rather than do something about it but its somewhat paralyzing to know the seduction of a bright sunny afternoon can make them forget about Mommy for a whole hour and half now.