three.

[thraxios]

[Gideon's handwriting isn't nearly as neat as usual: the letters wobble, and there are splatters and swipes of ink around the words. Holding a squirming, squalling baby while trying to write using pen and ink in a journal that doesn't want to stay open to the proper page isn't an easy task.]

It won't stop crying.

What does one do

[and there's a particularly large spill of ink]

when it won't stop crying?

I've tried everything I can think of.

((OOC: Gideon is now father to a little girl who's old enough to have hair just like his, but not so old that she can say what she wants. >D))

Comments

[heloise]

Love is not so complex.

[thraxios]

And how would you convey it to a screaming infant?

[heloise]

The same way you do to a man full-grown.

Hold it gently, keep it warm, attend to its needs and shower it with kisses when the mood strikes you.

[thraxios]

You sound experienced enough in these matters - perhaps I [splotch] should leave it to you.

[heloise]

Ah, but would I love it as much as you could?

[thraxios]

You might. Admitting much fondness right now is proving difficult.

[heloise]

It is still yours. Part of yourself. [ Which is why she loves all her children. ]

[thraxios]

A rather louder part of myself.

[But he can see the logic, even if he's having difficulty feeling it.]

Perhaps the similarities are easier to see when it isn't wailing.

[heloise]

Do you never wail?

[thraxios]

Rarely.

[heloise]

Perhaps your child will follow your example.

[thraxios]

Only in the amount she cries, I hope.

[heloise]

Why not in other ways?

[thraxios]

No doubt you have traits you'd rather not engender in anyone else. The same is true of me.

[heloise]

[ She chuckles. Nope, none aside from misfortune, perhaps. ]

I hope she will be the most well-read.

[thraxios]

[He's happy to take Lucrezia up on this turn in conversation, and so he answers with some good humor.]

If I had reason to believe I would be keeping her, I would be planning her lessons as we speak.

[heloise]

[ She smiles to herself, but he wouldn't take this as badly as a few might. ]

Barely a week, last time.

[thraxios]

Then we will not bother to begin arithmetic before she goes away.

[Gideon had guessed it must be a brief time--that seemed to be the nature of these losses, from what he'd heard and read. Considering how he's started the week so far, he's not sorry about this; the baby has a rather piercing shriek.]

[heloise]

But you must love her while she is entrusted to you.

[thraxios]

We will see how much she cries, first.

[heloise]

The louder she cries, the more you will love her surely.

[thraxios]

That hasn't yet proven true.

[heloise]

You must tell me the verdict once the week ends.

[thraxios]

I will do that.

Do you have one of your own?

AHAHA <3

[heloise]

His name is Abel. He has his father's eyes.