That's all I ask, eight sweet and solid hours straight. To not be roused from my dreams in the midst of any great adventures (the latest of which, I kid you not, involved my old boyfriend {I use the term loosely and with much internal sarcasm} from Paris and a robotic President Ahmadinejad). I don't think it is too great a request. I am really, really tired. And in truth, it isn't really that Nahanni is being unreasonable. She is holding fast to her last middle of the night feeding, although to her credit she nurses and then goes back to sleep, so I think she is genuinely hungry. The problem is actually this pervasive insomnia that is plaguing me. She is in and out in ten or twelve minutes but by then I'm awake and thinking and working on my taxes and writing a letter/script/short story/novel in my head...either that or worrying, depending on the night. It's getting increasingly hard to focus and I find I say the word 'retarded' a great deal in reference to myself. I remain hopeful every night that it will be the one. I ask each of you to keep me in your nighttime thoughts...
Otherwise, Nahanni is on the move. She first began to crawl about 10 days ago and it did not take her long to figure out. It is adorable the way she drags one leg along the floor, almost in pigeon pose and then raises herself up on the other leg in a sort of half down-dog; it's a bit like watching Quasimodo lurch around your living room. She slaps her little dimpled hands on the floor like a staccato calling card so you always know she's coming. Half the time what really gets my attention is when I don't hear her...that's always when I discover her gnawing away on power cords or with her hand inches from the cat food. On the 13th she pulled herself up to standing and we are not surprised, what with her always having had super-strength and all (did I also mention that she is super-smart and super-beautiful?). Her little left incisor is mostly in now and it's so bizarrely cute, this little fang of hers - I make her laugh just to see it. I'll almost be sorry when her other three top teeth finally come in, we'll miss our little snaggletooth girl. She is eating bravely and quite voraciously, with a wonderful palate for an 8-month old baby. She want crazy over garlic-heavy filipino chicken, has been seen gnawing on raw scallions, devoured spicy steak and eats salmon like it is candy, popping into her mouth with a proclaimed 'emmm!' and clapping her hands - another favourite new pasttime. It takes me 45 minutes to feed her as she plucks up individual peas one by one and looks to me to say 'good job!' so that she can proudly clap her little hands. It is particularly amusing to watch her eat avocado, buttery jade squares that I cut up and place ceremoniously before her. She measures them carefully with her two litte pincers, chases the little shards as they escape her before squeezing them into her balled fist where she pops it just enough for it to rise to the little cleft there so she can carefully crane it towards (although not always into) her mouth. Then we start the clapping game and onwards, slowly onwards we go. I know someday I will watch her sullen face at the table, slumped against the affrontery of something we've forced upon her and I will think fondly of these times.
We recently received a wonderful gift from Trish and Royce, who live now in the Yukon and who have both guided trips on some of the amazing rivers up north, including the Nahanni. They sent Nahanni some special rocks from her namesake river, one even made into a necklace which I placed around her neck, explaining that this had come from her river - I felt like an elder placing her amulet about her neck. I took her picture and when I tried to take it off of her she cried. I cannot wait till the day we stand on the banks of that river with her, when we take her into the places we love best and she can see us as we truly are, as we were long before her and who I hope to always be.
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