Tag Archives: prayer

MWF here I come

Federation Square Theatre (BMW Edge)

Image via Wikipedia

The Melbourne Writer’s Festival has selected me as one of their five ‘UNbloggers’. I’m a bit in awe I have to say, being such a brand new blogger and all. My first response was excitement, and my next was more along the lines of what-was-I-thinking-I-can’t-take-an-8-month-old-baby-to-a-writer’s-festival. But I’ve just decided that I can, and that it’ll be ok. There’s plenty of couches scattered in that big undercover bit at Fed Square (perfect for breastfeeding), there’ll be a change table somewhere, and Sparrow will magically sleep through each of the minimum ten sessions I attend. Ah. Sleep.

I’m guessing that writers and audience alike may not feel particularly warm to either a crying, squirming, squealing, or singing baby. I wouldn’t have been, pre-baby. Note to self: paranoia and doing other people’s thinking for them whilst attending the festival will not be conducive to the kind of relaxed and inquiring state of mind I’d like to cultivate. More notes to self: everyone there was a baby who interrupted a grownup at some point. Sometimes childcare is a hard thing to get and babies need to travel with their Mamas. Sparrow might magically sleep through the sessions (yeah right). Even if every post ends up saying something like “the first five minutes of this session was amazing, and then I had to leave because…” that’s ok.

I’ve downloaded the app and made a must see list. It’s twenty-one sessions long, and that’s only because I couldn’t include anything after dark (Sparrow’s not so crash hot at going to sleep for the night without me).

Essential items (please feel free to add to this list in the comments): pram, ergo, cruskits, pear slices, blanket, quiet toys, food and water for me, all the other stuff that goes in a nappy bag, laptop, iPhone so I can dictate my posts as I think of them in case I can’t type, pen and paper for old school moments, a brave face, and the serenity prayer. No I’m not religious, but the serenity prayer is gold.

Waiting for Sparrow to wake

This is the view. My house and driveway. There’s a pile of green waste in the driveway that my partner ekes into our tiny green lidded bin. There’s always more than she can get rid of in any given fortnight.

Sparrow is a wakeful little thing, and often ends up doing day sleeps in the car. So this is where I sit, and wait. I hope, simultaneously, that he will keep sleeping, and that he will wake soon. Keep sleeping Sparrow so that when you open your eyes they are bright, and the grizzles are gone, and the next two hours are easy and good. Wake up Sparrow so I can eat, and wee, and hang the washing out before the lemony winter sun disappears behind clouds. Keep sleeping Sparrow so I can sit, and write, and breathe without a child on me. Wake up Sparrow so we can cuddle and sing, so I can put my face into the warm crease of your neck and say your name over and over like a song, like love, like a prayer to this even keeled day.

Sleep. Wake. Sleep.

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