words by GOSIA LIPINSKA
pic by GARRRETH BIRD
I wake up to yelling. It’s my almost one-and-a-half-year-old daughter. It’s time for her 5 am feed, except it’s 2 am. We’re trying to get out of the pattern of early-middle-of-the-night feeds (can you imagine classifying different parts of the middle of the night?!). I go to console her, which results in blood-curdling screaming. She’s not looking for tender words. Now she’s awake and keen to play. Damn. It’s 2 am and tomorrow I had hoped to go to The Hole to try my project. Surrender.
Read the full article
