Date Archives → June 2007

moments of the “other” variety

There are moments when you’re a mom. Some moments are pinch-me-am-I-dreaming moments of sitting in the sun with a sweet-smelling infant, breathing in lilac blossoms. Ahh.

And then there are the other moments.

We’ve had several of those in the last 18 hours:

— In the middle of changing Jameson yesterday afternoon, Ryan called. Determined to devote as much attention as possible to our conversation, I paid only enough attention to my bare-bottomed baby to ensure that he didn’t fall off of my bed (where I was changing him.) You can guess what happened. I hung up the phone to find a nice big wet spot on my quilt — and blanket, sheets, etc. To make this a true “moment,” I realized we were late for an appointment, hastily pulled the sheets back to dry, and ran out the door.

— On the way home last night, Jameson, overtired, cried himself silly and threw up several times all over his carseat. I carried my puke-covered angel inside and washed him up, and then quickly settled into our bedtime routine — only to realize my sheets were still damp.What are you going to do? It’s late, your baby needs to be held, and all of your sheets are already packed in boxes, anyway.

— This morning I carried the carseat inside, and armed with a screw driver and a few hints from Brietta, began the process of removing the well-soiled carseat cover. Jameson played happily the whole time I worked, for which I was thankful. The cover was frustrating enough on its own. I don’t think I could have coped if a crying baby grabbing at my ankles had been added to the mix.

— Cover in the wash, I pick up my baby only to realize he’s had a diaper explosion — all over his stomach (sorry for any grossness…), and in all of his excited squirming around, has left a trail on my linoleum.

— Bathe the baby thoroughly, plop him in the pac’n’play, and mop as fast as I can, because now he’s crying. Sit down with a relieved sigh to nurse him, only to realize that I have to be somewhere in 30 minutes, and although I’ve access to my sister’s carseat, I have no way of getting it from her. Buckle Jameson in the back seat for the quick trip over? I don’t think so… And just as I can feel my brain start to smoke, I look down and realize I have yellow poop stains all over my shirt.

*moment.*

[laugh or cry?… don’t worry. so far i’m still laughing.]

summer days

Parking at the “Clarkson Inn parking lot,” (which is not the Clarkson Inn parking lot at all, but nonetheless, is what we all call it.) This time, instead of pulling into the first available freebie, I opted for the pricey shaded spots. I have a baby now, you know.

Strolling past the theater, which I realize as an adult is a shabby looking building. I never noticed that as a kid. Potsdam was beautiful to me back then, and practically perfect. Being a kid is such a wonderful way to start life.

Walking down Elm, slowly, because we have a dog and a stroller between the two of us. Chatting about this and that, as we always do. Conversation flows easily while walking on Elm Street. We should know; we’ve done it for years.

Admiring the gardens in front of the Co-op, wondering for the umpteenth time whose job it is to plant such an abundance of perennials. I think I’d like that job, I think to myself, again. A cold iced tea (100% organic, wouldncha know), and we’re off.

A blanket by the river at Ives Park, the strong breeze whipping through our hair, cooling our sweaty faces. Watching students, dogs, kids, and men with fishing poles. Oh, here comes the Lady. You know — the one who only wears white, black, and khaki, and owns thee black and white dog? She’s the regular around Ives Park.

Coming home and not wanting to go inside after so many hours out. Checking on a sleeping babe, who is, amazingly, still sleeping. That sun and wind wiped him out.

These are familiar summertime vignettes. Two weeks from today, I’ll pack up my chubby baby and fly off to join his daddy. And our little family will create new summertime vignettes.

But nothing will replace the Old Familiar. They’re on reserve for the special trips Back Home.

misc.

:: It’s really very silly that I feel so incredibly productive this morning. All I’ve done is make phone calls and return some emails — but since that is the stuff that I dread, I always feel pretty pleased with myself when I can check such to-dos off of my list. Silly me.

:: Jameson’s favorite toys are his pacifiers. He’s never appreciated them as pacifiers. In fact, he’s only just figured out how to keep them in his mouth, but this is all just fine with me. No habit to break later on, and in the meantime, they make for fascinating fun. There’s one tucked in his toy basket, and one saved for the car, and watching him find them is so fun — pop, it goes, into his mouth. Suck, suck, then back out to be inspected at every angle, then popped back in, upside down. Suck, suck, take it out, wave it around in the air, inspect, suck, suck… Yes, this goes on all the way to Massena. What a great toy!

:: Sometimes [this morning], when I’m working , err, monitoring my baby’s whereabouts, I sigh and think, How on earth could I survive with two, or three, or five little people running around, needing me all the time?

Then, immediately, I see Bronwyn’s chubby arm around Jackson, her little voice saying, “See, Tanka-mama [me]? Dis is MY baby Jacks!” I hear Gabriel yell with all the responsibility of an oldest brother as he races out the door, “No, Jackson! DON’T GO IN THE ROOOOAAAAD!”

And I smile and sigh and think how precious children are, but how extra-precious siblings are. (And especially those certain little people. Boy, do I love watching them be a family!) God knows what He’s talking about when He says,

Behold, children are a gift of the LORD,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.
How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them;
They will not be ashamed
When they speak with their enemies in the gate.

updates

:: Life in the North Country: three nights ago, I tossed and turned and barely slept because of how unbearably hot it was. This morning, I’ve given in and turned on the heat. Heat?! It’s June 6th, for crying out loud!

:: Progress: two days ago, Jameson was figuring out how to push up onto his toes, impressing those of us who find push-ups less than enjoyable (and nearly impossible). By last night, he’d discovered hands-and-knees, and this morning, he’s getting into that position more and more frequently. He’ll be crawling soon!

:: Moving: boxes and piles in absolutely no semblance of order are cluttering the apartment. But it won’t be this way forever. In just weeks, these boxes will be unloaded in a little house in sunny California (where, incidentally, we will never turn the heat on in June.) And the official departure date is June 22nd, for all those interested.

:: Ryan: sigh. I miss him. A month is a long time.