Before Christmas

There is not enough space to write all I want to write all day. But time gets splatterd around, oozing away, the precious hours slipping away. There isn't much happening, yet my mind works frantically trying to record thoughts that should be written down. Snippets of reality go away without being recorded. Life happens in the form of loads of tissues used to wipe away Sofie's face, fingers, her high chair. Food stains to be removed. Feeding the baby five times a day, getting her meals ready, cleaning away the mess. I wonder why I have such need to write it down. Life is so ordinary. I don't almost go out, my days are filled with taking care of the baby, housework, a few hours when I try to relax in the evening after she's gone to bed. But actually, all the time spent with Sofie is a blessing. There is nothing I want to do more than be with her. I don't want anybody else to be with her except her father and me. I don't need time off to relax. I don't worry much about anything when I'm around her. Looking at her golden hair is enough to disperse all dark clouds. Even though the last sunny day here was a few weeks ago and sun rises after nine and sets around three. Life has been beautiful since she arrived.