Little Mr Man is cradled in my left arm, face against my chest, sleeping. A Bear has slumped into the pillows on my right, curled into my side under my right arm, and is off with the fairies. Beloved chats with her mum, I am lying back thinking nothing, at peace.
I notice Bear stir, a slight adjustment, then her eyes open a little.
Suddenly she is up on her feet grabbing at my right shoulder crying, pleading "No Daddy No Daddy No!!" I squeeze her in, I can't move, can't put the Cublet down or hand him to anyone, can only tell her over and over that I love her and that everything's gonna be alright until she calms, somewhat, and slumps again.
It tore my heart open.
She's been good, actually trying hard not to show her confusion and fear I think, making an effort and being helpful. And I think things are going as well as we could expect with 'the adjustment'. But there's a melancholy in her eyes and it doesn't help that we are living between two homes at the moment.
Poor baby girl, everything's gonna be alright...
A pub poem - My chip has fallen to the floor. The bar is crowded. I look down. *Sehnsucht*. A lawless longing for The unattainable. I frown.
19 hours ago