2018-08-21 - 10:01 a.m.

we fell upon the earth and ran

wellington is homelike. we settle into our apartment near the city center, and while my husband is at work, the baby and i putter along the waterfront and through the botanic gardens and up the mt vic overlook. i make sure the baby takes regular naps. by the end of each day, i am so tired i can barely breathe.

i take the baby to the discovery room for pacific cultures at the museum, where he can play pātē and nafa. at first he has fun, but then he finds he cannot imitate the performance on the recording. the drumsticks are too heavy and he is too small. he cries. three days later, and he can play these rhythms exactly. he is not even two years old.

on the playground, the baby tumbles shockingly down a big slide. he cries, claps for himself, wants to try again.

i draw things in my sketchbook. seashells, some birds, the mr. pizza logo, an elusive regional pokemon, the city at night. my husband tells me i am drawing the wrong things.

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