I was woken at 3AM the next morning by the cries of my first-born. I knew childcare was difficult, but nobody ever told me it would be this hard. Wearily, I slide myself out of bed and into a pair of slippers. Then, I begin the walk across my house to the nursery.
Ryn is sat in his cot, and an ominous smell is drifting across the room. I take a deep breath and speed across the short space between us. I remove the nappy and attempt to fir him with a new one, but find it a difficult task in my bleary state. Eventually I manage to get him re-covered and make my way back to bed. Just as I am slipping under the covers, there is another cry. I stand up and try and remember how many times this has happened already.
The next morning I am almost falling asleep in my cereal, but I managed to stay awake and call a babysitter to help with supervision. Once the sitter arrives I manage to fall asleep on the couch for a few minutes. Once I have replenished myself I get up to begin working on my newest project.
I pick up my paintbrush and begin to paint. It isn't a talent of mine, I am much more skilled at sculpting, but I don't have any money to buy a sculptors kit or any materials. I barely have a penny to my name. I am trying so hard to make money to give a nice life and things for Ryn, but it is so hard being all alone.
I was awake until about 1AM last night painting. I'm worrie Ryn will hate me as he gets older because I'm neglecting him. But, I suppose he would hate me more if we had no money and we lost the little house we did have. After I finish the painting, I decide to spend the day as just Ryn and Me. I suppose that if I bump into Paisley she can tag along too, she was my closest friend.
That day I take him to the beach, where I teach him to walk while the soft sand trickles between his toes.
He giggles with each step, and the feeling is wonderful. Hearing the tinkly laugh, I wish I could freeze the moment forever. But that would be cruel to all the other people, just going about their day with nothing to do with us, who find themselves frozen in time. So I settle for a picture on my mobile.
We return home soon enough to eat, drink and nap. The napping is totally just for Ryn, I swear. I shower and brush my teeth before I have a brilliant idea. I flip open my phone, dial Paisley, and wait for her to pick up. When she does I immediately begin. "Hey, Parker. You paint, right? Good. Right. Could I claim I was a very famous, very secretive painter and make more money selling my paintings on eBay? Yes? Since when have I cared about legality?" I close the phone minutes later and proceed to go about my day. The only difference is that now I have worked out an way to boost my income.
There is a knock at the door and I am greeted by a man named Angelo Leriab. He has just moved into town, with the aim of participating in my challenge. So we do the deed, a few times to make sure I am pregnant. I send him on his way after explaining the Laws of Participation to him.
Ryn wakes up not long afterwards, and I teach him how to use the potty. "Mumma, when do I grow big?" He asks. I shrug in response, but he is persistent (a trait he gets from me) Ryn refuses to potty train until I say, "As soon as you learn to potty, you can grow big." He claps his hands and sits on the small plastic chair.
True to my word, I let him grow up straight afterwards. "Happy birthday Ryn. The first of many." I whisper. He ages into a (mostly) well adjusted child. Our celebrations are punctuated by the appearance of our next little baby, whom I am sure will be a girl. I guess we just have to wait and see.
Ryn likes feeling the baby, but one thing he does not like is school. Apparently it is all too hard on him, and he hasn't got any friends. This is the case for a few months, until Ryn returns home with a girl. Her name is Rosie Burgess and she is tutoring him. It is one of the nights she is over, that I give birth to James Anthony Everard.
That night, I sit down on the couch and stare at the wall. We haven't got TV yet, since I could never afford to pay the cable company. I pour myself a glass of wine and raise it to my lips. "Here's to number two." I mutter.