Angus's mom loses her marbles.

Well, now that we're officially in our new apartment, which is still not quite finished, things are very quiet.  Being at home alone with a baby is very isolating, but for right now, I'm kind of enjoying it.  Being alone has never been a problem for me, and I still don't know if it's because I grew up an only child so I'm used to it, or if it's a personality trait.  If I'd grown up with brother's and sister's, would I still be the type to enjoy her own company just fine?

Angus likes to have an audience.  When the seven of us were all squished into the one house, tripping over each other and biting our tongues and smiling to keep from snapping at each other, Angus thrived.  Somebody was always interacting with him, and he heard people's voices all day.  Now it's back to just him and I.  It's been two months since it was just the two of us.


He's been very quiet and observant today.  He keeps staring intensely at me, as if he's suddenly remembering who I am again, after being constantly entertained by everyone else for the last couple of months.  He seems disappointed in me.  I don't blame him, I'm not very entertaining.  I've been struggling with what to do with him. 
I'm not one for baby talk.  I'm not one for talking much anyway... but talking to a baby is a huge effort.  I feel like it's something I should be doing, but I honestly don't know how.  Since baby-talk is out of the question for me, I try and talk to him like a normal person, but I feel silly, like I'm talking to myself.  His response is usually one of his intense stares, usually with an eyebrow raised mockingly.  He DOES like baby-talk - his grandma does it perfectly, and usually has him grinning and giggling, but I just can't do it myself.  I feel like he knows I'm a fraud. 
I feel like I should be playing with him more, but I don't even know how to do that either.  Anyway,  he usually ignores my ridiculous attempts at playing, shoots me a look of contempt and then returns to whatever toy or piece of furniture he was mouthing before I interrupted him.

I have to be honest - I'm looking forward to when he gets a little older and we can have conversations.  Or at least understand each other a little better.  I'm looking forward to when he is walking around, so I don't have to haul his 22 pound butt around with me everywhere I go.  I'm looking forward to when he's out of diapers, because no matter how many poopy diapers I change, I still gag and want to barf.  I just about retch every time I have to retrieve a booger out of his nose.  (It'll be great when he can pick his own nose.)
I'm looking forward to hearing the appalling things that come out of his mouth when he's three.  If he's anything like his daddy, it should be entertaining.  Apparently Aaron was quite the talker when he was a toddler.  A chauvanist, even.  He used to hang out with all the guys.  Once he walked up to his mother, who was drinking a beer, and said, "Mom, beer is for mens!"

Anyway, it's not like we're totally alone.  Grandma and grandpa live right downstairs, so when I feel like I'm failing miserably at mothering, I can always go downstairs and deposit Angus at their doorstep.

On another note, this morning I looked out the window and saw a paramedic parked in a driveway across the street.  It made me feel like there is something suspicious and ominous in the air, as there have already been two deaths in the last little while on this street.  The other day a woman, probably elderly, was walking along and dropped dead on the sidewalk from a heart attack.  A couple weeks, or months ago, some guy hung himself.
I'm probably being very superstitious.  I always thought I had to much common sense to believe in ghosts or superstitions, but lately my imagination has been getting the better of me.  All the houses here are ancient, and I always find myself wondering what kind of past lives happened in the house we're living in.  Did anybody die in this house?  Aaron told me the house next door has been empty for sixteen years, and apparently thousands of dollars were found stashed somewhere.  What kind of person stashes that much money?  How come the house has been empty for so long?
In the house where we were living, (Aaron's grandparent's old house) two sides of the property are flanked by a cemetary.  (One the other side is a large TANK.)  In our bedroom, there was a closet, and another door that led to the attic.  I SWORE I heard thumping noises coming from that closet!  Ghosts, I'm telling you.