To the finale of our adventure, we were heading down the highway and see a nice family spending their Easter Sunday in the ditches. (What, you WEREN'T in the ditch on Easter Sunday?) ... maybe they were looking for their treats from the Easter bunny, or the bunny him/herself.
But no, they were just picking bottles on their ATV's. I have to give them kudos though, because they did a great job of making that a productive, family-oriented activity!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Travelling + Baby = Messy
Now that Levi has been born, I try to do all the normal things I'd be doing without a baby. So, taking a trip to Melfort in the car is one of those things. Of course, there are stops for feeding and diaper-changing now. Normally, this is pretty straightforward.
Until the Sh*t-astrophe of 2011.
Picture this, Watson gas station, early evening. I decided not to feed him in the car because there were too many people around. What I didn't know was that this move saved my life, or at least the interior of my car.
I went into the wheelchair stall where the change table was. I set down my diaper bag and the baby and got myself ready, sitting on the seat. (The closed seat, if you were wondering.)
Everything was going smoothly, until I felt the initial rumblings in his diaper. Soon to be followed by the nastiest, wettest, sh*tiest diaper known to mankind. It went right past the Pampers, through his sleeper and onto my hand and arm.
Of course, being the prepared person I am, I had extra diapers and extra clothes. But, the clothes were too small and I wanted a sleeper for him. I had to call back up.
Me, sitting in the stall, handling a poopy baby and my cell phone: "Jen, go into his suitcase and grab me a sleeper - he pooped through this one!"
Jen comes to the rescue, sleeper in hand. So, I pass her the poopy one. It's not an ordinary sleeper. It's the nice one Erica bought him - it's white, gorgeous soft cotton and he is just starting to fit it. So, in order to save it, I have to ask Jen to clean it up and wash it out. She does. In the sink. The only sink in the bathroom. There are definitely other customers coming in. She perserveres.
Meanwhile, I am hogging one of the two stalls trying to change him into his clean clothes. Of course, he is also crying because his feeding session has been interrupted by this inconvenience, and he is none too happy about it.
However, I got him changed, and fed, and the nice sleeper got cleaned and is currently stain free. It wasn't a catastrophe, just a sh*tastrophe, and I am sure there will be many more!
Until the Sh*t-astrophe of 2011.
Picture this, Watson gas station, early evening. I decided not to feed him in the car because there were too many people around. What I didn't know was that this move saved my life, or at least the interior of my car.
I went into the wheelchair stall where the change table was. I set down my diaper bag and the baby and got myself ready, sitting on the seat. (The closed seat, if you were wondering.)
Everything was going smoothly, until I felt the initial rumblings in his diaper. Soon to be followed by the nastiest, wettest, sh*tiest diaper known to mankind. It went right past the Pampers, through his sleeper and onto my hand and arm.
Of course, being the prepared person I am, I had extra diapers and extra clothes. But, the clothes were too small and I wanted a sleeper for him. I had to call back up.
Me, sitting in the stall, handling a poopy baby and my cell phone: "Jen, go into his suitcase and grab me a sleeper - he pooped through this one!"
Jen comes to the rescue, sleeper in hand. So, I pass her the poopy one. It's not an ordinary sleeper. It's the nice one Erica bought him - it's white, gorgeous soft cotton and he is just starting to fit it. So, in order to save it, I have to ask Jen to clean it up and wash it out. She does. In the sink. The only sink in the bathroom. There are definitely other customers coming in. She perserveres.
Meanwhile, I am hogging one of the two stalls trying to change him into his clean clothes. Of course, he is also crying because his feeding session has been interrupted by this inconvenience, and he is none too happy about it.
However, I got him changed, and fed, and the nice sleeper got cleaned and is currently stain free. It wasn't a catastrophe, just a sh*tastrophe, and I am sure there will be many more!
Babies. No topic is off limits.
Before we left Melfort for home, it was imperative that we eat something. We stopped in at KFC. I held Levi's carrier while Ange took a bathroom break since we had a few minutes before our orders were ready. This is when the young woman at the till began asking about the baby.
It started with the normal questions like gender, name, etc. Then she brought out the big guns: "How was your labour?"
I was a little shocked she would ask that. I understand that as the chubby, non-make-up-wearing, rare-hair-doing-sister, I probably DO look like the crazy one that just popped out a kid! But, isn't asking about labour kinda personal?
To top it off, I'm sure the lone 30-year-old male customer next to me didn't want to hear about the gory details. But I answered anyway, on Angela's behalf... "Labour was awful, he took over 50 hours, and then was a c-section"...
So KFC lady, anything else you wanna know?? Any questions about breastfeeding?
It started with the normal questions like gender, name, etc. Then she brought out the big guns: "How was your labour?"
I was a little shocked she would ask that. I understand that as the chubby, non-make-up-wearing, rare-hair-doing-sister, I probably DO look like the crazy one that just popped out a kid! But, isn't asking about labour kinda personal?
To top it off, I'm sure the lone 30-year-old male customer next to me didn't want to hear about the gory details. But I answered anyway, on Angela's behalf... "Labour was awful, he took over 50 hours, and then was a c-section"...
So KFC lady, anything else you wanna know?? Any questions about breastfeeding?
Sandal Season
Once we drove past the pet motel/cemetery, we got to Melfort, got ready, put on our sandals and made our way to the church. Yes, sandals... in church, just like Jesus would wear. (Okay, not his exact sandals, and also ours were more fashionable.)
Also, sandals in mid-April. The snow is gone, so that means sandal season begins. Well, the snow isn't even ALL gone, but it is gone enough that we can justify breaking out the sandals. We may have the heater on in the car to keep our toes warm since it's only +2, but you have to take advantage of sandal season's limited duration!
Also, sandals in mid-April. The snow is gone, so that means sandal season begins. Well, the snow isn't even ALL gone, but it is gone enough that we can justify breaking out the sandals. We may have the heater on in the car to keep our toes warm since it's only +2, but you have to take advantage of sandal season's limited duration!
Hotel California, for pets ...you can never leave...
For the Easter weekend, Angela, Levi and I made the long journey home to Melfort for a wedding of one of our most awesome friends, Mike.
Angela drove, which allowed me the comfort of gazing out at the flat, flooded prairie. What caught my eye was this: (I would insert a photo but we didn't take one, and there is no website for this business) ...a Pet Motel, a two story motel like complex, for your lovable pet. That wouldn't really be unusual - sometimes pets need a place to stay when their owners are out of town. However, this particular pet motel is also adjacent to the pet cemetery (!!!), which seems a little too Stephen King for my liking... or my pets!
That is just all kinds of wrong. Buffy and Fluffy better behave at the motel or we know where the next stop is going to be!!
Angela drove, which allowed me the comfort of gazing out at the flat, flooded prairie. What caught my eye was this: (I would insert a photo but we didn't take one, and there is no website for this business) ...a Pet Motel, a two story motel like complex, for your lovable pet. That wouldn't really be unusual - sometimes pets need a place to stay when their owners are out of town. However, this particular pet motel is also adjacent to the pet cemetery (!!!), which seems a little too Stephen King for my liking... or my pets!
That is just all kinds of wrong. Buffy and Fluffy better behave at the motel or we know where the next stop is going to be!!
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