Following up from the last blog, I have not heard back from my electricity company. I know I should call again and threaten to call A Current Affair, but most of me is like "fuck it, just have some money and go away."
The split-feeding thing was a fantastic idea. Obi wasn't even mad. He was like "Why do you think I'd be cranky. You made the minimum six months, that's all I care about." All was well and good until the Owl got her say. I got two tiny feeds into her before she made an unwavering decision that this milk is shit and she's never drinking it again. She used to take expressed milk from a bottle and I've given her cow's milk in a pinch too. Now if I touch a bottle she screams. So much for that. On the bright side, at least the she had my flu for a total of two days before she got better (yay for the power of anti-bodies in human milk) while I've been miserable for over a week, and Obi's had this flu four days.
She's eating better too which I'm thankful for. I had the epiphany that I should probably just trust her to know what she needs and how much. Babies aren't stupid like adults, they don't over-eat and they don't try to starve themselves. As long as she's healthy and meeting her milestones, who cares. There's way too much fear-mongering in mummy-land.

Winter Solstice was good! I was getting a bit sad there because no one had RSVP'd at all outside of the family. No one even said No. But one of Bec's mates (and someone I'm friends with through having grown up together) said she'd be there. It was way out of the blue because this chick almost never hangs out with either of us any more. I think the last time we saw her was my wedding. I thought she might have miss-clicked until she posted saying she couldn't wait to see my sister!
And then the night before I was out in the dark, putting up the washing that still isn't dry because it rained all weekend, when I saw the husband of the nice American living upstairs. She's the one I've been trying to make friends with, I asked her on a mummy date but so far we have not been able to make it happen. Anyway so I reminded Tom and he basically gave a don't-get-your-hopes-up-probably-no-but-maybe, but five minutes later she messaged me saying they'd be there. Of course then I was super nervous lol

But it turned out great. Bec and I made candles during the afternoon then people came around. Everyone seemed to get along really well, unlike last year where it turned into a political debate. Even Isis had fun, though it was so loud she could barely nap and was a little grumpish by the end. We had a lot of laughs, it was really wonderful to relax and talk to other adults. The only weird thing was, the boys went out to pick up the pizza and I'd had a couple of wines when I began to notice that the room was kind of hazy. And I was thinking "Shit Miriam, better slow down on the grog, it's effecting your vision!" but when the boys came back they were like "Hey, notice it's smoky in here?" We couldn't figure out what was creating the haze until the next morning when we were cleaning up we found one of my color-changing candles had gone completely black with soot. It was gross, we all had black boogers, even the baby. Unfortunately, Obi's computer had been running, and all that bad air going through the power supply killed it. Whoopse. At least he's not too upset that it happened.

Unfortunately, after everyone left, that night turned to hell. You'd think not having slept would mean Isis would be out for the count? Not so. She woke up crying four times before 4am, which is quite the effort seeming she goes down just before midnight. The fifth time she woke up, I'd had enough, so I poked Obi and I'm like "your turn". So he gets up and was holding her, standing right next to me and he tells her "I don't know what your mum expects me to do with you". I could have fucking killed him. And I might have if I wasn't too tired to stand up. I told him I expect him to pretend to be a decent parent and that I didn't particularly care what he did with her. I remember saying "Change her, feed her, play with her, drown her in a bucket for all I care but do it yourself!" Of course, I fell asleep again then and had a nightmare where he took her into the kitchen and drowned her - I thought I heard her drowning and everything! - so I woke up in a panic yelling "I didn't mean it! I didn't mean what I said about drowning her! Don't do it!" and of course Obi just thought I was stupid and didn't comfort me. Luckily, rationality returned and I figured out he wouldn't do it anyway. But fuck.
Anyway, so Sunday, and I guess a bit today too, I seriously resented him for what he said. I had it out with him, and he made a bunch of excuses that he knew were just excuses. And just... ugh. He seems to think that because he doesn't have boobs he can't do anything - or he wants me to believe that - and it simply isn't the case. I'd already fed her multiple times I knew she wasn't hungry and even if she was she can either eat real food, or he can solve all her other problems and then just lay her next to me. There was no reason for him to be an arsehole about it. Yeah, he's sick. So the fuck am I, and if I could get up four times he could surely do it once. End rant

Anyway, after I had a go at him we talked solutions and came to two conclusions: The cloth nappies aren't working at night and it's too cold.
Our night nappies are bulky as hell but super absorbent.... if the baby's on its back. Except Isis likes to sleep on her side, and takes feeds on her side, at which point all the pee runs out the gaping leg hole. (the nappy also gets gradually loosened as she wears it because of how they are designed) so there have been a few nights where I've picked her up and she's soaked in pee but her nappy is dry. It makes me furious because these nappies are damned expensive.
So we picked up Eco-desposables for night time. At $20 a freaking pack. Ouch! But I'm changing over to cloth wet wipes soon, so the price will likely even out.
And then I put a bunch more blankets on her bed. Last night when she got up at 4am, I woke Obi and he nuked a heat pack to slip in her cot (not directly against her of course!) and so she only woke up once. It was fantastic.

One thing Obi said to me last night really struck me. He goes "I miss your book" I'm like "Huh?" and he eleaberated. Told me he misses how much we used to talk about it, he misses brainstorming, he misses my characters (who he referenced by name like they were real people lol)... It was really nice. But also makes me keenly sad.
I have written recently, but nothing that matters to me. I play with ideas, but I don't touch that series. Part of me is bored of it, part of me is disheartened by the whole publishing/marketing process... but a huge part of me just doesn't have the motivation. I love writing, even though it frustrates the crap out of me at times. It's hard work, but I find it rewarding. Even with just this blog, I spend hours writing, and I enjoy it. But I think I wouldn't blog if no one read it. But I like knowing I can entertain people in their lunch break or when they are bored at work. I like knowing I can make people smile, that people can relate to what I write and stuff.
And with my book? Well, sometimes I'm afraid of failure. Which is stupid because if you don't try you fail by default. I care about this story, I want to do it well. ... but you know what probably stops me writing the most? Stops is the wrong word, nothing is stopping me and I've known that for a while, but I mean, the thing that stops it becoming a priority? No fucker cares.

And I know a whole bunch of you are going to post and say "I care! I want to read your stuff!" spare me because.. well ... a lot of people have said that to me. And many of them asked to pilot read my work. So, scared like I was standing there naked, I gave out copies of this thing I've worked for years on.

Not one of them read it.

I'm crying as I type this, how lame is that? But yeah. None of them read it. I don't know if most of them even opened the file. One of them did, he said he read the first chapter or so... he gave some criticisms that I took on board, and then was "too busy" to read the rest. Not too busy to play video games of course. Which tells me one thing at least - I don't have a good enough hook in my opening. Well, I suppose I could re-work that AGAIN. But, it's just so hard to care.

This isn't a hobby for me. This is work. This is my soul in black and white. I don't do it for fun. If no one is ever going to read it, there is no point in writing it. I don't care if I'm never famous. I don't need to be the next J. R.R Martin. But I can't just write for me. I don't need to write for me, I can enjoy the story in my head and leave it there. I write to entertain. I write for other people. And if those people don't care I don't have a purpose.

That was crushing, but I'm glad I wrote it.

I think I do want to dust this story off. I want to make it awesome, I want to give it life. I'm not bored of it, and I wont be able to rest until it is done. But how? How can I do this massive thing (I have written one book, drafted the second and have four more n planning) when even the people who love me wont read it to humour me? If the people who care won't read it, then how can I expect critical strangers to pay for it?
I don't really want answers to this. I just needed to complain I guess.

On a happier note, even though this is probably too long already, in six weeks Imbolg/Candlemas is here I love that holiday. And as I'm not pregnant I'll be able to fast this year for the first time in forever! I'm stoked.

Thanks for reading

P.S Bluejay Belle, I'm hoping to read about your solstice too. Blog it Pretty please!