Freja & a moif world update

Mette has just left for København, for to see Camilla's son Hampus, who I am glad to say, has left his incubator and is taking nutrients onboard in a steady manner. They say it will be a while before he puts on enough weight to be in the clear as yet, but all the indications are the little guy is going to be okay.

So the Snoos and I are alone for the rest of today and the first half of the morrow and its the first night of her entire life that Freja has not had her mother at her beck and call... so this is going to be 'interesting'. I anticipate a night of wails and screams and much frustration. Maybe I'll just stay awake all night and play EVE? *Giggles*

Freja is doing well these days. She's been at day care for a week and a half now and has seemingly settled right in. Mette takes her in in the mornings, before she goes to class (she's on a computer course, learning various graphics software) and I pick her up at around 14:30, which is about half an hour after the kids have had their lunch... though usually Freja is still at the table when I arrive. She is a slow and easily distracted diner. Mette reports that when Freja arrives, those children who can speak, all shout out "Hello Freja", which does my heart no end of good to hear since the truth is, I am at home all the time these days and could easily take care of the Snoos it it were simply a matter of money and the reason why we have put Freja into day care is for the interaction with other children. And this seems to have paid off no end. Freja appears to be thriving in the company of her peers and we've both noticed she is more lively as a result. She is also more apt to whine and demand things now, but we were expecting this, so, like the sudden viral onslaught that has afflicted her (and me) its no big surprise... though it is a (literal) pain in the arse.

So its 13:26, saturday, 11th November, 2006. Freja is asleep and EVE is mining quietly in the background and in four days time I will reach 37 years. Odd. In the later, morbid days of my teenage years I never thought I'd make it past thirty (I was almost certain that I'd have killed myself before then) whilst back in the dawn of history, when I became 'self aware' at the age of seven, thirty seemed like an eternity away (but looking in the opposite direction I find that seventy four does not seem all that far away). I remember counting the years forward one day and discovering that I'd be thirty in the year 2000 and back in 1977, the year 2000 had a certain glamour about it. To a budding sci fi enthusiast, it was the future! I was over joyed to realise that I'd be an adult in the time of space travel and flying cars and I remember thinking to myself that I was going to be an astronaut!

A few years later I realised that there weren't going to be any flying cars or space ships. That I was going to miss them all... of course, in those days I didn't know about EVE.... =)

If your thinking that I never grew up, then you are correct. I've never moved away from that moment in time when I was seven years old and I realised I was going to die. Everything I see today is measured and weighed up by the perspective of that seven year old boy. I know this is true because I spent hours talking to a shrink and she basically told me I live in a state of a perpetual fear of death... which I don't mind, so long as I don't die any time soon!

...and then Freja woke up crying and wailing. Thanks to Pingu though we were soon happy again =)

So, anyway, its my birthday in four days time and before I wrap this post up, I'd like to say thank you to whom ever sent me 'rue de casacades' by Yann Tiersen. I suspect I know who it is (a certain sleepy some one I suspect) but of course I can't be certain since there was no name on the invoice.