I slept for about three hours, because Lev had what appeared to be food poisoning. I put out the paper today and bought cherries for the office. My colleagues repaid me with flowers and kisses – and a paper that came out on time – which was very generous of them. Somehow, my body is still going – even though I’m feeling a bit like the Terminator must have felt towards the end of “Judgment Day.” Fellow parents, you know how I feel.
When I was celebrating my 27th, Lev was just a little over a week old – and I was still shell-shocked. Alexei and I had drinks and ice cream in a dark playground, while Lev slept in his basket. I wasn’t entirely sure how I was ever going to function as an adult person again – having a small child instantly reduced me to being a small child.
Slowly but surely, life began to come together again. But the patterns were all different. The world, when I came back to it, was there – but changed. The world was a bar of chocolate, melting in Moscow’s summer heat in the bottom of your bag, cooling off into a strange new shape by midnight.
Lev is almost walking now. He’s very tall for his age – so it’s harder for him than for other one-year-olds, or so I’m told. My husband is a bona fide film director. And as for me – I really miss sleep.