18:48

... two minutes to meltdown point. i bet you can't tell, looking at these gorgeous babes singing, that i would be screaming off my head in just another 120 seconds. the scary thing is, i couldn't tell either. it didn't feel like a hurricane. yes, i was a tad tired (antoine hasn't let me sleep for more than three hours at a stretch a single time in the last 9 months). it's true that dinner wasn't anywhere near being ready, and i was rather ravenously hungry (what with the six nursing breaks a day a boy needs to recover from his adventures, and the four afore-mentioned night nursings, this here mama can get quite hungry). yes, the floor of the living-room was literally littered with various miscellania (sunglasses, bits of food, clothes, dolls, saliva, paper, crayons, trains, necklaces, cushions, bicycles, books, blankets, tufts of cat hair, newspaper clippings, bread crumbs, dirty diapers and torn plant leaves), some of which had recently caused me pain in some way or another. it's true that antoine at this point wouldn't settle for anything less than his three favourite activities, i.e. climbing the stairs (not allowed because of neck breaking), eating cat food (not allowed because of being vegetarian baby) or playing with the gas buttons of the cooker (not allowed because although quite desperate not yet ready to commit family mass suicide and also because food simply will not cook unless heat is applied to it by means of gas, and no food means more HUNGER, see above). it's true that isabelle wanted a snack RIGHT NOW, and no she couldn't wait for dinner (maybe because she knew that without gas she'd be waiting a long time) and could i read a book to her, and could i play the evil step-mother in cinderella, and could i please right now, right now...

as i was shutting my camera, and to my great surprise, my mouth opened, and a roar rose from my toes. it filled the space with sound. no words, just this wall of sound, for protection. i saw their eyes shut down, the lights going out. shock absorption. i felt myself disappear, further and further away.

and then for once, just for this once, i managed to stop right there. it wasn't hard, really, i simply turned off the sound tap. and felt, gropingly, for the furry thing underneath the sound. the tight tight chest, the turning churning stomach. the ache in the belly. the stone in the throat.

i sat down on the floor and cried. until they crawled off their perch and came to comfort me.

i know what i need. i need a nap-sitter. i need someone to come in, maybe for just one hour every day, after lunch, so that i can sleep. and then i promise, i solemnly swear, i will be human again.