Before I had Tilda, I came home to an empty house between 6-8:30. I laid down and turned on the television and thought about the books I wanted to make or that I should be making. Sometimes I made books. Sometimes I just shut off for an hour or two. During those hours nothing and no one could get in, no calls or texts. They were lonely times that didn’t feel lonely. I remember them as empty, but cozy, hours.
Not only does the baby interfere with the frequency of these shut-offs, she makes those that I do have almost intolerable. If she naps in the early evening, I clean up or fold laundry or alphabetize my library. Inaction seems make me twice as lonely now. How did this happen?