'Tween and twitch

love, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

Thrump, tum, tum. Thrump, tum, tum.

I shift in my seat, my back slumped into the same position it held three and a half months ago when my belly was arguably larger.

Can't call too early. They are not home. Traveling about the county, dropping off one kid to preschool and picking up another. Silas along for the ride.

I am restless. Working on the things I can, reading the news I largely ignored during the summer. Getting depressed. Another murder. Another health scare in Africa. Epidemic here. There. Everywhere.

I watch the clock. They should be home now. I call. Three rings, four rings. ... there is a connection and I hear screaming on the other end. Silas.

So often I listen to him cry and feel my own tears close to the surface. Not today. Today his tears comfort me a little. He misses me? Probably not. He isn't eating as well for the sitter as he did for my mother on our night out. Only two ounces so far. He's hungry. I've already pumped 8 ounces.

I hang up so as not to make it worse. I know how hard it is to do anything with a baby crying.

My eye starts to twitch with that familiar stress energy I haven't felt in I don't know how long.

I should really start sitting up straighter.