Monday, 25 August 2014
It strikes me as kind of ironic that I've been writing so much about slow reading and been trying to keep up a rather frenetic pace myself. My attention flits from page to page, from task to task, from to-do list to to-do list; work, home, work, home with a frantic, repetitive rhythm like pages flipping faster and faster through a book. When I finally stop to breathe I start to worry that this baby will be born before we can move back into our home and I get desperate to find the kid's old baby clothes that have been sealed away from the dust and mess and at least put together a pretense at being ready.
Perhaps I haven't fully registered that in just six short weeks I'll be a mother again, that I actually have to slow down, that physically I can't keep it up... not until this last week anyway, when it took a scare to remind me of this fact. So, it looks like slowing down is the path that lies ahead of me for now.