Page 7 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘But we have to home this child for at least sixteen years. I can’t have sixteen years of no sleep.’
‘When he gets to his teens, it may be more fun. We could have all-night raves as a family?’
‘I imagine our teenage son would love that. Us old folk joining in with our whistles, bucket hats and nineties dance moves.’
Will goes quiet. ‘I’ll be forty-six when he’s sixteen. Shit. That is ancient.’
He looks a bit perturbed by the fact and runs his hand through his hair. One thing’s for sure, he’ll still have hair at that age. He likes to think his huge, uncontrollable mop makes him look like the lead singer of an indie band but really, it’s starting to look a bit eighties bouffant.
Will starts pacing the room. ‘What have you tried tonight?’
‘Everything. Bit of white noise, wrapping him up like a spring roll, I tried to feed him asleep too.’
‘Obviously all worked then.’
I grab my phone. ‘Siri, list me all the ways to help a baby get to sleep.’
‘This is what I found,’ Siri suggests.
‘Try lying him down and brushing his eyelids gently in a downward motion,’ I read off some parenting website.
Will does as he’s told. Joe seems annoyed that we’re touching his eyes.Don’t touch the eyes.His grizzle gets louder. I hear footsteps upstairs from the flat above. Mrs Siddiqui has never openly complained before but she always gives me curious if well-meaning looks on the stairwell as to why I haven’t quite got the hang of motherhood just yet. Sometimes we hear loud footsteps above in the middle of the night as if to inform us we’ve woken her, and make us feel all the guilt.
‘Pick him up.’
Will bundles our baby boy up into his arms and places his head next to his chest. Joe rubs his face against the chest hair wondering if we’ve acquired a new rug.
‘OK. There’s also a method where you cradle him and then swing him from side to side in big sweeping motions,’ I say.
‘Like I’m swinging a golf club?’
‘Yeah but don’t let him go.’
Will twists his body around, trying to achieve the desired effect. Less golfer, more swinging Jolly Roger pirate ship ride. Joe giggles. I do like that sound. Just not now. Will laughs quietly and holds the baby’s face to his. He comes to sit down next to me and balances Joe on his jiggling knee.
‘You don’t have to be up. Get back to sleep,’ I tell him.
‘I’m up now.’ He glances over at the television. ‘What was this?’
‘The Crown.’
‘Any good?’
I shrug. It is most likely very good but I’ve mainly kept the queen on in the background for company. I’m glad she’s found the depth of character and strength to lead our good country, but I bet she never suffered with cracked nipples.
Will scrolls through Netflix looking for something else to gaze at. I revert back to my phone, where he notices Facebook open.
‘What news befalls social media land?’ he asks.
This was your post from one year ago, Facebook informs me.Would you like to share?
I show Will my phone. ‘Christ, how was that a year ago?’
I can see the cogs whirring in Will’s brain trying to do the bad maths. That was from a whole other life. The post was from a music festival. I’m wearing denim cut-offs that I’d struggle to now get past my knees, a white vest top and a straw trilby decorated with daisies. I am drunk – and revelling in that drunkenness. My arms are slung over Will’s shoulders and I am jumping in time to Bombay Bicycle Club’s music without a bloody care in the world, without having to worry whether the contents of my pelvis are going to combust and displace themselves. And I am singing into the late summer sky with a bottle of beer held aloft, getting overly excited about HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS SONG, slightly sweaty and pink but oh so happy and carefree. And braless. Just my B-cup wonders bouncing around, unaware, joyous. We did that exactly three hundred and sixty-five days ago. Why does it feel like time has moved at glacial speed this year, and yet also at a rate I’ve not been able to fathom? I take my phone back and start to scroll up.
‘Apparently, your brother’s closest celebrity soulmate is Elon Musk,’ I say to Will, filling him in on what else is happening on Facebook. ‘I really needed to know that.’
Will laughs.
