Learning

Well I've been barely sleeping, because my child has been sleeping barely at all in the day and only just longer than I'd like to sleep at night, but with up to six feeds over night.

He's so interested in things and curious about everything. Last couple of days he's learned to climb up and down single steps, turn pages of his books, turn lights on and off, open doors (desperately trying to reach door handles if they close properly), chase ants, use his fork (to eat overly slippery mushrooms that his little fingers couldn't hold onto) and roll an orange around the floor. He is constantly investigating and repeating his experiments to try and understand how the world around him works.

I am proud of his efforts and his interactions with his world - both with inanimate objects and with people - but it is utterly exhausting.

This morning (while his Bakica has taken him on his second walk of the day in the hope he naps), I have put together a schedule and routine to try and work from. We're also going to try a playgroup with the nuns, three times a week, I think, so that he can have more company...my little extrovert's needs will be better met.

It's lovely to have time to type, I realise, the feelings of fingers tapping on keys. It's relaxing and therapeutic...also to have my thoughts spill out of my head and onto the screen, leaving my mind emptier and more relaxed. I listen to other people's mornings begin - sound of cutlery on crockery, sound of frying something, maybe polenta. I hear the blackbird singing on top of the fir...I hear the sound of the cicadas croaking up and all around me, as if the air is made of the stuff of their calls...I hear Croatian voices chatting, muffled...I hear distant sounds of motorbikes, dogs barking, children playing. The sounds are peaceful and they are starting to infuse my brain. I need more time to write.

Time to sign off. My little investigator has returned from his walk - wide awake now, having napped his usual 30 minutes.