Blur

It’s been a blurry sort of a day.

Kids pretending to be ninjas in the morning, while catching imaginary Smurfs.

Going to the hospital and reading John Holt in the cold waiting room, while holding back tears.

Being shown how to use an insulin pen by a sympathetic nurse. Wondering how poking a vaguely flesh-coloured cushion is going to compare to injecting myself.

Meeting Hubby and Captain for a coffee.

Going to buy enough baby clothes to fill the hospital bag.

Going to a doctor’s appointment. Hearing the baby’s heartbeat. Finding out I’m now lighter I was at my booking appointment.

Listening to Captain tell me about the adventures she had with Daddy. There had been killer whales and a deep dark wood in the hardware store, I was told.

Watching her dance wildly to a busker playing guitar in the cold night, while someone was setting up a Christmas tree stall.

Video chatting to Mr Buttons, who had gotten a letter from Hogwarts.

Reading the instructions to the insulin pen, while making supper and finding pyjamas.

The smell of peppermint from the oil burner.

Magical stories in bed, of wolves and ballerinas and mischief.

And the constant ache of missing my mom, as it would have been her birthday today.