It is 22:41pm. This is the first sleepness night I have had since 19th January 2012. Okay, so the previous sentence wasn't 100% true. First of all, I don't think quarter to eleven really counts as a sleepness night. Secondly, it might be more accurate to say that this is the first night that I haven't collapsed into bed only to be woken up by a hungry infant as, for the first time in a long time, it's the chatter in my head that's keeping me up.
So yes, first things first. I have a baby, a baby boy who is now six months old. I don't really know what else to say without getting teary and emotional and flooding this post with clichés but he is wonderful. Curious and determined and passionate and full of love. But of course, all babies are love, it's just up to us to love them back. (See what I meant about the clichés?)
Back to those pesky, keeping-me-up-at-night thoughts. I don't know how well Operation Aussie Sheila is going. We were discussing 'Dreams I have for Myself' in my mothers' circle today and what came out of my mouth was a less eloquent version of this:
"I think my dream for myself is to know what my dream is. I moved to Sydney for CNN because he wanted to be closer to his family. I don't feel like I was forced to move here, he made it clear even after we had only been dating for a few months that he was planning to go back to Sydney and I had to know that if we were going to continue our relationship. When I was living in London, I had a fulfilling job and relationships. Not just with CNN but with my sisters, with friends... and now that I'm in Sydney I don't know what my dreams are anymore. I don't know what they are in this context and in this environment."
I don't really have anything else to say or to add to this post. If I were to put on my English teacher hat, my red pen comment would be 'Where is the conclusion?'
