Archive for May, 2010
Just shy of 6 months my little one can now flip over in mid-diaper-change, scramble and flap her arms in a dry-land swim/pseudo-crawl, and rock the boat just enough to need the crib mattress lowered. We also moved from the bassinet to the ‘big girl’ stroller this weekend. Before we made these changes, I would lie there at night, looking over at her, scared that somehow she would decode some cipher and unlock the secret to falling out of the crib onto the floor, or, when she’d be in the pram, right on to the road. I moved at a feverish pace to ensure that she was prepared, or we were. It didn’t matter how long it took to put the new stroller chair together, or figure out in which random technical dialect the crib instructions were written. It was just important that it all got done.
I think the last time I felt this kind of insane nesting instinct was right before she was born. The obsessive-compulsive urge to be ready overpowered everything else. I guess I have a similar set of motivational feelings stored away under my work ethic – I love having every detail just so, precisely and absolutely at attention for its moment in the front-lines.
I almost got poop on my taxes. It’s true. My accountant sent everything over for me to review in a nice, crisp, manila envelope, and I hungrily opened it. It was like somehow the most mundane of things had suddenly become this portal to a sophisticated, adult world where people wore ‘suits’ and talked in a fandangled business dialect over dinners and deal-making cocktails. Exciting!
Well, as I’ve mentioned before, we have 800 square feet of ‘creative living’ to our house. At times there are so many dirty diapers bunched in tidy little packages on the floor, that I play casual games of soccer to get them over to the Diaper Genie (Gooooooooal!). I’m not squeamish about said diapers, and I have the whole ‘change process’ down to a fine art, lasting no more than 20 seconds on a relatively slow day.
We live in a house smaller than our last condo. With a whopping 800 sq ft of living space, there’s a lot of competition for things to actually have a ‘rightful place’. Our wee peanut, already commands at least 600 sq ft of that even though she’s not even crawling yet. It’s the gear. The bouncy chair, the bassinet, the baby gym, and the make-shift diaper changing stations. They’re not just ‘stuff’, no sir, they are prime real estate. And they should be. I’m getting to enjoy the bright colours and soothing hypnotic patterns of Lamaze toys. I think I play more with the tactile toys in the baby gym than she does. I have ‘inadvertently’ napped with her sock monkey, and her organic cotton hippo… having these things accessible is much more important than knowing where my client files are..right?
One day, apparently soon, we will have finished our basement renovations and doubled our living space with a downstairs laundry room, den, and home office. Yes, that’s right.. my home office. But to get to that point feels like some complicated tarantella. As anyone who has ever survived a reno knows, there are always more steps then you think there are going to be. But I’m ok with that. I’m even ok with the random relocation efforts that we have to make whenever a contractor comes to call. Because of the resounding noise and solvents and who knows what else, I have to pack up the peanut, and drive north to stay at my parents while my husband oversees things on site. This has been ongoing for over a month now, and you know what? Even that isn’t the ball that tips my juggling hand.
Now let’s throw in a few contracts and see what happens. No file access, no office, but deadlines all around and a small inquisitive 5 month old with the lung power of a bullhorn? Yep, that makes things more interesting.
I can’t help but wish that they made Jolly Jumpers and those relaxing little bouncy chairs in our size. At least I have a Sofie la Giraffe to chew on if the going gets too tough.