Nancy Dancehall has asked for audience participation, and for once I'm in a mood to participate.
If this were art about me, as I am right now, it wouldn't be all eyes and almonds, it would be all b00bs and n1pples. I nurse the Bug. A lot. Frequently while I do other things. It is a very large part of my life right now. I feel swallowed by it.
Did you notice? She has a name. Boy is outraged- he senses a certain, ummm, lack of that fawning tenderness us moms are supposed to have in my choice of a pet name. It's true. When I look at the Bug I do feel love and tenderness, but I also am aware of other, less romantic sentiments. I notice how primal she is. She is a mass of reflexes- she roots in search of b00b, she arches, she squinches her face while her innards do gymnastics. It reminds me of a bug, so Bug I have dubbed her. I imagine that the name will grow as she does. Instead of her being Bug because she is buglike, she will be Bug because she's cute as a bug's ear.
Also, I seems to like the 'B' pet names. Boy is 'Boy', but he's also Boo. Peanut is Bean. And now there's a Bug. It's all good.
It is bed time, and I have spent all the time here that I can afford to spend. Now that I've christened her I guess I'm free to tell you her birth story. Tomorrow. Maybe. Or the next night....
Still doing good, knock on wood,