My mother always said that from about 4 pm to 6 pm is the “witching hour” or something like that- and that babies and toddlers get fussy around this time.
I notice recently that for me, these are now the hours when I feel most incomplete. Late afternoon- there’s not much promise of anything new happening. I am worn out from the morning activity, from serving and cleaning breakfast and lunch. I am not expecting anyone to call or come home for dinner or to relieve me at bath time.
The sky dims. I think about what to make for dinner. I drag myself from room to room picking up after Audrey. I watch her talking to her animals, baking cakes in her play kitchen, writing “invitations” and let her fan me with a Hello Kitty fan you got her because that’s what pretend doctors apparently do for you.
And I feel the utter incompleteness of our family- of just the two of us- here. Without you.
I feel it all the time of course, but this particular time frame, in my mind, I’ve labelled,
the hour incomplete.