Wrote this on the train out of Fresno, heading to Berkeley for work: 4/7/10. Also trying out a bigger font, hope it doesn’t look “playskool”.
More run-down backyards filled with old, rusty cars than I could imagine are passing by my window. There’s beautiful fields and farmland too, which is strange, right? Farmland, beautiful? Well, rows and rows of organized nature at times seems like some of the best of what the world has to offer and humankind’s ingenuity. Maybe. I don’t know. But before I dump out that can of worms, to my point. I am running on two hours of sleep. Why you ask? I got two names for you, Maia and Keana.
Keana always gets anxious before I have to leave for work trips because often I leave early in the morning and she figured out that when I say “I’m going on a work trip” that means “Papa’s going to be gone when I wake up”. Even with days of prep and explanation, she still gets upset. Maia on the other hand says, “You comin’ back?” and when I say, “Of course, I’ll always come back” she seems quite satisfied. So last night I explained to Keana I’d say goodbye and she didn’t need to worry in the middle of the night and call out. She seemed to understand, but sure enough, 2 a.m., “Papa? Papaaaaaaa!” I go in and explain it’s still night time and she needs to be quiet so she doesn’t wake Maia up. She says okay, but looks worried, and I leave her. 15 minutes later, whining. “Shit! Dammit! What the hell?!” are some sentiments going through my head. This time, Maia does wake up calling for Sarah. I try lying down with Keana in her bed and Sarah goes into Maia’s room. 10 minutes later, Sarah comes in and says Maia wants me. It is now a little after 3 a.m.
I go back into our bed because it’s the biggest, and I have Maia crying on my right and Keana snuggling desperately on my left. I finally get Maia to calm down and she tries about a million different positions to get comfortable. She uses my stomach for a pillow. She says she’s cold. She says she’s hungry. She calms down. Time goes by. We’re not sleeping, none of us. Finally I take Maia back into her room where Sarah’s been sleeping, pretty sure she’s ready to sleep now, but with Mama. It’s now 5 a.m. Alarm goes off in 40 minutes. “Shit! Dammit! What the hell?!”
Alarm goes off. Keana wakes up and wants to sleep with Mama and Maia. I take her in and Maia says, “Hey, this is my bed.” Mama growls, things quiet down. Was Maia ever asleep in there? Are they sleeping now? As I roll past a waking Modesto I certainly hope so. Damn, longest shortest night ever. Well, not ever. But put it the books along with the rest.