A poem I wrote maybe 4 or 5 years ago; I found it on a folded sheet of paper in a box of old stuff.
In Alabama, dinner bells still hold true
in some backyards
People flock from one stop light towns
to see a festival in honor of the peanut
Elvis Sings Gospel and An Evening with Conway Twitty
crackle and hiss on your grandmother’s record player
The room with the old wash basin and the bedframe
your grandfather built
smells faintly of the haunting past, a harder time
with no shopping malls or the luxury of indoor plumbing
Days move slower here because the frame of mind is different
In the Fall, acorns litter the browning grass
and children collect fallen pecans in coat pockets
I am a different person there, the spirit of an estranged
or long since dead relative whose history is born into me
The first three or so days of breastfeeding, Elliot latched on quickly but slowed down as he went along. These days, he begins in an angry state. He flails his little arms about and makes his “oh face” as soon as we sit down in the chair – he is anxious to eat. But as soon as he gets on, he scrunches his little nose (which, by the way, is my nose 100%) and pulls back; as if to say, “Um, excuse me, waitress? This is not what I ordered.” But he settles down into a sort of coma state where he sucks five times then takes a second to swallow, breathes like a little hog, then resumes slurping his meal.
I don’t mind getting up to feed him all that much. I have been feeding around 11 or so then setting an alarm for 2:30 or 3. Then again at 7 or 7:30. That seems to be his time frame, not two to three hours as suggested in the hospital. He’s not all out crying by the time I go to get him so I know I haven’t waited too long. There’s something serene about watching him eat, eyes closed, little ears moving up and down as he swallows. Sometimes I play classical or yoga/relaxation songs. Sometimes we listen to my “labor stage 2” playlist, which I seem to recall using for all of maybe three songs before I was too into a contraction to care. He’s going to be really familiar with the Elephant love song medley from Moulin Rouge. Heh heh.
Yes, I laughed at myself. I’m probably going crazy. No, I know I am. Another clue is that I’m ecstatic that they’re taking our trash out. We forgot to put it by the curb last Friday so it’s been full since Tuesday. Yay for garbage men.
I don’t necessarily miss working my normal job, going about the daily routine, just me and Ash. I like our new addition quite a bit and I’m getting used to being home all the time. Everything is so different but I don’t think I’d change it for anything.