I basically have two options: I can look after my son from 5am until 6pm, or I can write, but I definitely cannot do both.
Two months ago my girlfriend found a minimum wage job at one of the local cheese factories. She had spent fourteen months basically immobile through a pregnancy, then the first year of our sons life, and she needed to have a place to spend her day interacting with adults.
So at 5am, five days a week, she drops our son off at my apartment. Most days he and I both sleep for two, maybe three hours — him in my bedroom, me on the couch. Then we spend four or five hours trying to figure out what he wants.
On the nice-weather days we spend the afternoon in the park, or cruising around our village in his little buggy.
The afternoons are great. The mornings are the exact opposite. And from 7pm, when my girlfriend takes our son to her home, until I finally pass out around midnight, I might as well be a zombie.
Caring for my son is exhausting, but really mostly for the non-sleep factors. Caring for him having only had three to five hours of crappy sleep, where I’m waking up every hour on the hour, is turning me into a mindless automaton.
Long story short… I have no time to write now, or for the foreseeable future. My girlfriend is looking for a job with more reasonable hours, but that could take months and inevitably really solve nothing.
So between now and then I’ll mostly be posting photos here. At least that’s the plan. Setting up a schedule that allows me to look after my son, spend time with my girlfriend, eat as well as write is something I’m working on.
I figure posting something, anything, that is simple and quick will give me something to concentrate on that’s not the high pitched screams of a 35-pound raging poo badger who really only wants daddy to pick up a toy said badger just threw across his room.
Without all the hassle of having to maintain a coherent thought through a fog of exhaustion.
…he’s actually a remarkably quiet, thoughtful, mellow and sweet kid. But still, I’m a freaking zombie at the end of the day.
Writing just this much means I’ve now been awake for twenty-two hours. And I’m only up this late, writing, because my girlfriend is taking a day off because she misses hanging out with our son, so I get a diaper free day of sleep.
The photo is a self-portrait of me in the dentist chair getting a cleaning. She found no cavities, which means I’ve gone almost an entire year without a hole appearing in my face. And my gums are healing as well.
Just another victory for me… quit smoking, quit chewing my nails, quit drinking, getting treatment for the bipolar and diabetes, raising a fantastic kid, and now no cavities. Damn.