my tragic right hip

Busting out bad joints all over the place

August 10th, 2011

Notes From A House Frau: The Summer Edition III

If you say this is fun, then, yes, this is fun!

We took a little drive to the neighbouring town of Marmora this afternoon so I could get a bit of a break, and the baby could have a chance to not kill himself for five minutes. There’s no stopping him (as I might have mentioned) and it’s a ceaseless game of chasing him down so he doesn’t pull the vacuum cleaner, garbage pail, ancient heater, entire dresser, antique sewing machine, box of toys, and anything else he can get his hands on to pull himself up, down on top of himself. He won’t even sit still in the bath. And you can forget about trying to get him either changed or dressed.

So I am learning a new skill: patience. It’s not that I’m impatient but I do have a temper, and I’m trying to take it out on anything but the baby — it’s not hard, just exhausting. Remember all those months ago when I scoffed at the endless people telling me to “sleep when the baby sleeps”? I have taken that advice to heart and then some. He naps, I nap. He goes to bed, and I try to get to bed at a reasonable hour, but then there’s so much to keep me awake. A beautiful moon. Interesting noises coming from the back room. Sentences that should be scribbled down. And I think it’s all because I spend the entire day chasing away any thoughts at all, having conversations with someone who responds by babbling, that by the time the evening rolls around I’m desperate for adult company, even if it’s just my own.

He tried his first piece of corn on the cob yesterday. This pretty much sums up what he thought of it: WTF? Food does normally look like food, right? It’s hard to strike the right balance between introducing him to “real” food and not baby mush. Like any other time in this baby’s life — he does thing exactly when he’s ready. He’s a good eater, don’t get me wrong, but you know when he doesn’t like something. Right now, that’s all fresh fruit. Banana in. Banana out. Peach in. Peach out. Sometimes I fool him and the look of pure anger and betrayal that I get back cracks me up. I only wish that I ate as balanced a diet as the baby. By the time the cottage is swept, tidied, dishes done, baby down, toys put away, fire on (it’s 12 tonight, 12!), wood in, I’m ready to collapse on a frozen pizza like it’s a bed.

We’ve been taking really great walks during the day, though. All the way down the cottage road to the dam, and tomorrow I’m going to try for the Fish Hatchery. The first day, I forgot water. The second, sun screen. And then the more stuff you pile on, the less you feel like you’re just taking a walk — you feel ready to hike up Kilamanjaro or something with the amount of crap you’re hauling around. But I still wonder at his wonder. When he saw the dam, with all that rushing water and a wee baby muskrat mucking about, he was awed. Today when we went back, he wanted to dive right down into the rocks beneath the river — no fear of crashing his head or smashing up all of his bones — what was down there was just so fascinating.

We saw deer this afternoon. One with spots on the way out and one without on the way back in. I tried to get a good picture but I didn’t have time to point the camera AND remember to turn off the flash, so the deer has demon eyes. Truly, they were soft and beautiful, just like their fur looks, and they were not remotely afraid of us. The baby was playing with his toy clop-clop horse, and from the shaking I heard from the backseat, I’m gathering he did not notice the deer at all. But I did. Stopped the car. Paused. Told them how beautiful I thought they were and let the wind sing all around me.

In the end, it’s good to remember that I’m surrounded by truly wonderful things. A cool, crisp lake. A forest that endlessly fascinates my son as we walk down the road. Places to go. Swings to visit. Parts of your heart to hold on to as your baby grows up inch by inch in front of your eyes. He doesn’t pause, not for a moment, and that’s probably okay — everything is new to him. And I have to remember to take a moment to think the same thing: to see everything afresh, to notice the cool red mushrooms and the wild asparagus-looking plants at the side of the road. Not race down so fast that I almost come crashing into the fawn who so graciously jumped in front of me at the very moment I forgot that I was at the cottage at all.

2 Responses to “Notes From A House Frau: The Summer Edition III”

  • Kerry says:

    The swing photo is the cutest photo of RRBB EVER. He’s wonderful. And so is your summer from the sounds of it. He’s a lucky kid. xo


  • Monique says:

    The adult company is around! We’re just here on the internet.

    Perhaps I should introduce you to my friend Kiley, if you don’t already know her. You can prepare for moments to come in mom-hood:

    http://blogthecat.ca/

    To a non-parent, your tales are both awing and alarming.


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Girl with titanium hip will rock. Girl with titanium hip will write. Girl with titanium hip will read. Girl with titanium hip will battle crazy-ass disease called Wegener's Granulomatosis. Now stuff that in your spelling bee!

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