walking

My available topics of conversation over the past few months: baby, baby, labour, breasts, baby, baby, labour, labour, hope, breast, baby, baby, labour, baby, dog.

The poor poor dog.Voodoo

I understood in theory that The Dog would have to take at least a temporary backseat to the offspring since she’s relatively self sufficient while a newborn human will need the time we have historically devoted to the dog. We’re five weeks away from the estimated due date of the Offspring and oh, the poor poor dog. As it’s happening before my eyes and the dog hasn’t had a walk in at least 4 days and I think I forgot to feed her supper last night and she’s still following me around the house with deep affection in her eyes – I have Le Guilt. The offspring isn’t even HERE yet but just having him fully embraced in my pelvis has me choosing to be a neglectful dog mom.

Today I committed to refocus on my girl. We walked/waddled for an hour, I minded good posture while she minded sniffing all the parts of the neighbourhood that she hadn’t smelled for awhile. It felt good to wander the ‘hood to do a few errands and I do love walking with the beautiful, focused, prancing pooch.  It was a relief to see her continually adjusting to my new physical self where I am slower and more awkward than I was a few short months ago. Today The Dog would pause and take a glance behind her to make sure I was still coming along behind. The Dog, she patiently walked me.

We’ve been told that The Dog can already hear the Offspring’s heart beat from deep within my body, smell my different pheromones and I’m sure that’s why she’s become more focused, more affectionate, more  concerned with me than ever before. As we get ready for the newest member of the family to arrive, we’ve stepped up The Dog’s  training to commands like “leave it” to prepare for her first encounter with baby vomit, diapers and other things she’s sure to deem delicious. She’s been introduced to a newborn and was very focused on helping clean his cradle-capped head with her giant tongue and thus, we have deemed her as having much potential as a big sister.

I keep picturing a gorgeous autumn day in October or November when The Dog can walk both myself and her little brother around the neighbourhood. I hope we can keep the small human alive and well while continuing to ensure that The Dog, the first of our dependent family members, continues to be healthy and happy.

Thank gawds her patience is easily bought by a big disgusting bloody bone. I’d better stock my freezer.

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grace in small things: sept 2 – 5

Sept 5

1. Payless Shoes BOGO. I have more than just icky flip flops to wear. Which is good.
2. Heritage Park. I rode a bonafide steam engine
3. Seeing life from the vantage point of a kid for the afternoon.
4. Hanging out with great people who used to be our neighbours.
5. Giant ripe juicy red watermelon

Sept 4

1. I have enough vacation days left to take today off without it affecting my maternity leave additional benefits (extra payout based on sick hours not taken)
2. The Husband did not go into anaphylactic shock when the cat allergy really reared its ugly head today.
3. Even though he could barely breathe, he still took care of the cat litter so I wouldn’t have to.
4. The shelter is safe enough now for the foster cats to go back so we didn’t have to panic about The Husband’s allergic reaction.
5. I bought one of those $20 coupon books on Wed and I’ve already gotten $5 off my groceries and a free chicken leg. Score!

Sept 3

1. A long conversation with a friend that confirms that I’m feeling more prepared than scared.
2. A dirt and grease covered husband that smells of garage sweat. Mmm… yummy
3. Dexter – working our way through season 2 between items on the To Do list
4. Results: a letter to a company president resulted in an apology and refund within 24 hours of sending. Holy finally customer service, batman!
5. Being ok with missing the last camping trip of the summer. I’m missing it for my most awesome reason in the world: 35 weeks pregnant!

Sept 2

1. We passed our prenatal classes! Wheee!
2. While swaddling a doll during our last class, we realized that the pregnancy we’ve been enjoying will become a small human. And soon. This, my friends, brings great joy.
3. I have successfully talked myself into calm: all we need for above human is breasts (check!), place to sleep (bassinet check!) and something to catch poop (check!). We’re technically ready. 🙂
4. An impromptu supper with the inlaws
5. Kittens running down the hallway to attack my feets

Sept 1 – 4

1. Working from home = pajama day!
2. Five little kittens running around the hallway, attacking each other in roly poly ways that only kittens can manage
3. The Dog has finally figured out that getting near the kittens means she will be screamed at by the Momma cat.
4. A happy midwife appointment to confirm that yep, everything is going swimmingly!
5. Discovering that 90% of people are being turned away from the midwife offices due to overwhelming demand – we are blessed to have gotten in to their practice!

BPA

I forgot my water bottle at home so I’m at my cubicle, drinking water from a clean yet previously used plastic bottle.

By reusing the plastic, the BPA is probably leeching into me then into The Inner Child’s body and generating a third arm on his itsy bitsy self. I think about these things quite regularly now that I’m the sole provider for a small human that exists somewhere near where my kidneys used to reside.

Oh hold on – the bottle is a Type 1 plastic made of polyethylene terephthalate
and Wikipedia didn’t mention anything about it killing me softly, quickly or having any negative effect on me or the Inner Child at all. It is the same type of plastic they use to make polar fleece. I had no idea that polar fleece was a type of plastic.

Is it unhealthy to model all of my behaviours based on info garnered from publicly edited Wikipedia articles?

grace in small things – aug 29,30,31

Grateful? Oh yes… so much to be grateful for!

Aug 31

1. That mudding drywalling friend? He’s spending tomorrow during the DAY working on my basement. I swoon with happiness.
2. Tropical storm Danny doesn’t appear to be aiming for Newfoundland with the force originally predicted. Which is a huge relief.
3. I have finished and submitted all of the maternity leave paperwork. I’m still in shock about the entire thing, really.
4. Amy Winehouse is really working for me today.
5. Starburst has a new “FAVE Reds” pack – and the reds/pinks are always my favourites!

Aug 30

1. A friend who will spend his Sunday afternoon spreading drywall mud all over my basement walls while attempting to teach me how to do it.
2. The Winter Husband is back. He’s just like my husband but without the facial hair. Every year when he shaves his face, I feel scandalous. 😉
3. “4 Kinds of Vegetables” dish from the local chinese joint. OMG, too good to be just veggies but that’s all it is.
4. The dog warming my feet while I check my email.
5. The man from the grocery store produce department that jumped in and helped me take all the groceries to the car even though he had never done a carryout before. And he was handsome and charming to boot!

Aug 29

1. Blackberry jam on toast
2. Water ivy exists and is living in a Vancouver apartment
3. The meeting with the new neighbours was very friendly.
4. Itsy bitsy kittehs in my bathroom
5. Early afternoon naps are da bomb!

wanted: hookers

You know what I did yesterday?

No, not that. Although that would be fun…

I watched people work. It’s one of my favourite things to do. I watched them work, occasionally offered beer/water/pop, then retreated to try to nap. And was unable to nap because there was so much Work To Do. I wasn’t doing the work, involved in the work, or expected to contribute to the work, but hell, it totally interfered with my nap knowing that six strapping DIYers were in my basement, using drills and sharp knives.

I watched this:

Before Drywalling

Before Drywalling

Turn into this:

After Drywalling

After Drywalling

I am swimmingly impressed.

There is also a bedroom with a closet AND a utility/laundry room with a sliding pocket door. That pocket door brings me a type of joy that I can’t quite express. It’s a door. It slides into the wall. It makes me giddy.

This reno must be part of The Husband’s nesting process. I’m busy growing the little one into a bonafide being that can breathe in the outside world, making lists, crossing off tasks, filling out copious amounts of paperwork. And he is preparing by Making Beautiful Space. Yes, we really could use extra room now that a small person is about to come and live with us and I will have to move everything from the spare room (aka The Inner Child’s room) to somewhere else in the house but… we live in a house equipped with a large unfinished basement designed to pile loads of crap and The Inner Child is expected to be very very small for quite some time. But, once reality hit that this babe could really be joining us, The Husband declared that The Basement Will Be Finished In Time For Inner Child’s Arrival and holy batshit, he wasn’t kidding.  It’s flown together, friends and family showing up with drills and tool belts and sweating until deep into the night to help The Husband Get Shit Done.

This morning, the morning after The Drywall Party, he can barely get out of bed but the Massage Nazi is on her way over to help him finish drywalling the staircase.

If the upcoming volunteer painting crew is as effective as the drywalling crew, I think I’ll be expected to provide food, drinks AND hookers.

So… anyone got a line on hookers that work for breakfast sammiches, pizza and beer?

all folked up

I woke up this morning to my dog licking my hand in a manner than can only be described as desperate. She only does this when she really needs a human to open the door for her so I rolled out of bed but rather than following me downstairs, she hopped into my spot on the bed and promptly went to sleep. Bitch only lickin’ to steal some valuable real estate on the bed. Jerkdog.

So while being serenaded by The Husband and The Dog’s snoring, I’m finally sorting through photos from last weekend. I’m still, 6 days later, recovering from 2.25 days of Folk Fest. All week at the office I had to hear “wow, are you alright?” or “should you BE here today?!?” because seeing my somewhat pregnant self slugging around like I’d been on a 5 day bender is concerning for other people. Each time I fessed up to partying my pants off all weekend but no one seemed to believe me. I stayed up to the morning hours and had a helluva great time – I wish I’d been there longer because I missed doing and seeing things on my list but I think if I’d stayed even 2 hours longer, I’d have passed out from sheer joy mixed with exhaustion. And I even garnered a nap on 2 out of 3 days.

I saw old friends  and made new friends:

Juliana

Max's hand with Jules

I saw my favourite world-traveler/activist and the moment of seeing each other was very Lassie/Timmy, slow running towards each other, arms wide open…  except for the part where I was so overcome with excitement that I caught my bag’s zipper on my shirt and got wound up and completely restrained. We spent our first few moments squealing while trying to get me untangled. It was actually a pretty fitting reunion moment.

Lisa

Professional Protester and All 'Round Awesome

I also saw a Bunny On A Rope(tm):

BunnyOnARope

Bunny on a leash

I convinced a man to take off his shirt:

shirtless man

shirtless man

I did not see Schmutzie however I was able to locate the specific table at the pub where I expected her to be. I felt vaguely like a stalker, confidently walking up to a table of strangers-to-me friends-to-she based purely on evidence from her Flickr photos. It was kinda awesome, actually.  Alas, although I met Mr. Head, I did not see Schmutzie nor The Palinode. It would have rounded out the weekend but not every weekend can be perfect.

My mom and I take our folking rather seriously – as soon as gates open, we’re there. As soon as a stage opens, we’re scoring the spot that is a perfect view of people-watching and stage-watching. We picnic lunch and then take a break daily around supper, usually at the food tents (BUTTER CHICKEN AND MINI DONUTS, I LOVE YOU) then hop back to the stages. If a very loud band comes on stage or someone we’re not passionate about watching, we go and cruise the arts market because we can hear the band clearly while we shop. My mom is the Ultimate Girl Guide, packing food, rain gear, tarps, jackets and glow in the dark gear.

Kytami1

Delhi 2 Dublin onstage

HARD CORE, people. That’s what we are. Only, you know, in a folky way. It’s not just folk music but any music that can be defined as “music for the people”. This year closing out the musical menu on each night were K-Os (R&B), The Wailers (Bob Marley’s reggae peeps) and Corb Lund & The Hurtin’ Albertans (country).

Our fave: Delhi 2 Dublin – for when you need to dance and can’t decide if you’re prefer an irish reel, north indian beats or reggae:

And that, my friends, is why I’ve been recovering for the past six days.

So… what’s your favourite festival?