This morning, I had what I like to dignify by calling a minor epiphany (you could also just call it "a thought", but where's the fun in that?).
The epiphany arrived in a cafe. I sipped my double espresso and stared at my notebook.
“I am tired,” I wrote.
I then wrote a little bit more about being tired.
I thought about my life. It feels like rather a lot. All chosen, but still, rather a lot: trying to make a go of a new career, no idea what the career is, bringing up a small child, another on the way, no family or friends nearby, just a bit of a relentless daily grind, really.
“Life is,” I wrote, and then I paused. I wanted to write “Life is hard” but something came to mind.
Last night, Rahi said, “I want to hear “Wellerman” and then go to bed.”
So we put Wellerman on and Rahi romped around the room doing what he calls dancing but what less generous critics might call emphatic walking. I danced / emphatically walked behind him. Tante Hanna joined in. Anni lay against the sofa on the floor, singing along. And we spent 5 minutes dancing and singing and laughing, and then Rahi went off to bed.