So my days have been filled with baby boy and unpacking and visiting and occasional trips to help out in the office.
I finally got the last full load of my stuff from my Grandma's basement. It has been six months and an entire life away from the time I packed everything into those boxes and bags. At times when I unpack various objects I greet them as the old friends they are and at times I greet them with the question of why I took the trouble to pack and store them at all. It's been great to have that part of my life finally merging with what my life is now. Especially my books and my pretty kitchen pottery. The place is still a bit of a mess but I spent much of yesterday's afternoon scrubbing the tops of the cupboards in the kitchen and arranging my set of bowls and a few other items up there and I have since then escaped numerous times to the oasis of looking at those bowls and that perfectly completed corner of my abode while completely blinded to the chaos in which I stood. My other favourite pastime is looking at my bookcase. I still have to arrange my books on it--I only put them out in the order in which they were packed (and they were packed according to fit so categorization is out the window at this time). But even though I only have limited time to luxuriate in reading a book I get great pleasure in looking at the books I have. They remind me of many happy hours spent in their company and give tantalizing promises of many more to come. They not only do these things, however, I also find to my surprise that they tend to give me the hope that the literate side of my brain has not been wholly swallowed up on baby babble. Not to say I want to put away my childish things quite yet but I live in the hope that these two side of my life do not have to be incompatible. Not even that I hope to introduce my dear boy to this love of my life but I want it to continue to be a part of my life. I want to have something to say when conversing with friends beyond regaling them with the minutiae (however interesting) of life with baby. to put it simply: as our literary discussions often included their fair share on the topic of poop so I hope my poop discussions will include their fair share on topics literatae. A balance is all I seek. Is that too much to ask?
