Inertia, by Lynn Langmade on Etsy
There are some periods of my life when I’ve felt like I’m being propelled along by something bigger than myself, it’s this wild sense of PUSH, of velocity; a gathering of speed. It’s like driving down a busy street and having all of the lights turn green just when you thought you’d need to start braking. I love these periods, the fluidity and the serendipity of them. It makes me feel in connection with something, like I’m on the path I’m supposed to be.
Last summer, challenging as it was, was a perfect example. This apartment became available just when I needed to move, it was cute and filled with old hardwood and natural light. It was airy and promising and right next door to my sister. A month after I moved, at the delicious age of 31 I went on my first date ever and it was far better than any first date has any right to be. I sat there with my drink, blushing and looking at the man across from me as he clasped his hands behind his head, leaned back and grinned. Two months later I was offered a column with the Guardian – next to my book, the most incredible opportunity I’d ever had in my writing career. A week after that, Olive began preschool and thrived with this new routine, loved her teacher, adored her classmates.
I could hear the pieces clicking into place.
It’s been a wild few weeks around here, let me tell you.
First, and most importantly, for all of those who have been desperate for an update on Squash Baby (there are dozens of you. Literally dozens!) I have sad news. Squash Baby is no longer with us.
I think my little sister must have realized that my bleeding-heart hippie ways would never allow me to get rid of Squash Baby, and she was right. Under my watch, Olive would probably have been packing a fossilized Squash Baby off to university with her in fifteen years. So one morning, Lizzie came down and announced that we would be having a farewell party. She went ALL. OUT. It was a strange and bewildering party, perfectly befitting of such an odd guest of honour.
As I’ve noted before, Olive will eat anything and everything. She’s eaten (and enjoyed) beef liver, sushi, whole containers of lettuce and raw cabbage for breakfast.
For Mother’s Day this year, my little sister, Lizzie (also known around these parts as Aunt Loulie) sat down with Olive and asked her a few questions about me. She did one of these for my birthday last year, too, and they’ve quickly become my favourite thing ever. It’s fascinating to see yourself through your toddler’s eyes…and also terrifying?
Behold, our Mother’s Day quiz 2016
Mother’s Day feels so strange this year. That initial drop into motherhood feels so far away. It’s been almost four years, I barely remember what it feels like to be swollen and full, to feel tiny feet pushing against my belly from the inside. I’m starting to forget the tingly whoosh of my milk letting down, I can barely remember the feeling of a tiny weight against my chest, milky breath against my cheek.
That part of motherhood feels like another life.
It’s so different than I thought it would be. It challenges me and makes me stretch and dig and grow deeper. Olive is so different than I thought she would be. She’s louder and more vibrant and more real than I ever thought possible.