Tag: poop

Springing and travelling and gathering myself

Folks, it’s spring, I smell it. I saw a Robin. I heard a Robin. I saw heaps of Crocuses. Rudi picked one, stopped the stroller of his own volition and worked it into Gene’s sleeping hand today. Is there anything better than dimpled fingers on the first crocus of spring?

My blog was quieter than usual last week because I was away from my desk and my everyday life. I took a trip across the country to Victoria with my wee-man Gene to stay with one of my best friends in the world, commencing a 3-day “vagilogue” as my husband so tactfully put it. My heart and mind got filled up with the true solid, friendship, the kind you can slip into easily, years folding up on one another, marrying now and “the last time.” I feel super buoyed up even if I’m physically exhausted from solo travel with a baby and too many time zones!

At 6-months Gene was a spectacular traveller. He happily boarded 4 planes in 5 days, did a lot of sleeping, nursing, watching airport lights, and peek-a-booing with friendly dudes behind us. He even met his uncle Dave for the first time on a strategically planned layover and he snuggled his Alberta Gran-E (obviously that’s her rapper name. She’s a granny + her name’s Elaine … you see where I’m going with this, my mom is so cool!). I also ran into 3 friends from my teenage life in Alberta 17 years ago — how nice for that to happen in real-alive-life rather than on social media, as much as I truly do love the book of faces and the twits.

And now I’m excited to be getting back into the groove of my life, surrendering happily to this utterly moment-to-moment existence as a full-time mom on maternity leave with 2 wee ones who’s also trying to get ready to hit the ground running with her own work — sewing, editing, choreographing — when the formal mat leave is up. I am working hard and gaining at my practice of simplicity in a moment, being present right where I am, which, to be totally honest, is usually: feeding, doing dishes, thinking about sweeping up the dust bunnies, reading (to clarify: not my own popular novel or work of complex theory but more of a librarian-reading-to-the-poo-joke-loving-masses), cooking, thinking that 5 months is too long to wait for a hair cut, walking to the park, colouring, thinking about blogging, playing, getting vomited and/or pooed on, thinking how long is it since I washed my hair, huh, and so on, you get the picture.

But I’m also keenly aware of the things I want and need to do to keep my adult self and creativity sharp. I keep them tucked in a brain-drawer during most of this extravaganza that is the current norm and at the end of the day, I take time to weigh what’s really necessary for the coming one, and to be reasonable with myself in order to have the personal wherewithal to meet the necessary and leave a little for the desired. Thus not a lot of action on my sewing-work front, but good plans for when the time arrives to make it all happen for reals. I live in hope good people, keep the faith!

Rearview Fridays: A Felted Marcel!

Here we are at Rearview Friday already! Today I present a recent project, my needle-felted Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. Do you know Marcel? If not, you should check him out immediately as he’s charming beyond words! There’s also a sequel, Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, Two, and a book Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, Things About Me.

Rudi’s dance teacher is also a good friend of mine and in December at the end of his first term as a dance student, I made her a felt Marcel as a  thank you present (I’m a big believer in teacher gifting). I got a needle felting kit from a friend a while ago and I just love it! Needle felting is like painting and sculpting at the same time and it pays off quickly. Plus it’s fun to jam a barbed needle into a hunk of wool over and over til it’s felt, great for letting off frustrations.

This week kicked my behind a bit, strange weather, a family trip to the dentist (Rudi yelled so long and loud they decided to try again in 6 months!) and epic bodily function marathons that went something like this: baby Gene poops through his diaper, then vomits copiously across the space I sleep while I’m getting a wet cloth and a new diaper, now Rudi needs to poop in the toilet but he can’t get his pants undone, okay, Rudi’s pants are off, he’s taking care of business, Gene is now diapered, vomit wiped up, Gene poops again, I wipe him and leave him for 3 minutes of naked bum time thinking, “how much more poop could there be?” (error), Rudi, bless his heart, has peed on the seat and left the water running but at least that means he washed his hands, wipe up pee, turn off tap, back to Gene, he’s peed right over the waterproof mat onto the space where I sleep and pooped on the mat, soak up pee, toss mat in laundry, Gene is diapered again, Rudi is hollering from downstairs about a granola bar, Gene poops again, violently, straight out the back of the new diaper then immediately rolls (his new trick that I don’t yet anticipate) leaving baby-poo streaks where I sleep, now I need to pee, dream of a nap for a moment, remember I need to pump milk so I can teach dance on Saturday morning, open the granola bar, now I’ve forgotten to change the sheets, by the time it’s bed time I really don’t care, so I sleep in the traces of poop and pee and vomit. I probably need a shower.

Now that’s not a complaint, it’s a share that hopefully reminds me and maybe helps someone else to remember about the sometimes-madness of parenthood. There was a lot of laughing and sighing involved, I  just had to surrender to the ridiculousness of the moments and pretty much walked away from all blogging, business planning and actual sewing for the week. That’s part of being where I am right now, and so I laugh, sigh, occasionally cry (though not very often, there’s no time for drama folks!), lie on my back to stretch or “sleep” for 5 minutes when I can and am grateful that other people are honest in conversation and books and on blogs about the merciless pace that comes with young children. Plans, as well laid and measured and modest though they may be, often just go sideways. So I’m side-stepping, doing the grape vine through it all, and a plate or two may break, just sayin’.

Happy weekend, here’s to a cozy, calm weekend. Ha ha (about the calm part anyways).