Adam and I have been spoiled for a few months now. You see, we have grown accustomed to changing only pee-diapers, because Olive usually goes poop on her potty in the mornings. As she did this morning. Yay, right? Poops on the potty!
I was nursing this child to sleep for her morning nap, when she seemed squirmier than normal. I did what parents are often wont to do – I stuck my finger into her diaper to see if it was wet. It did not even cross my mind that I might encounter poop. But, Internets, there it was- poop. On my finger.
It is a testament to my status as a no-longer-rookie parent that I didn’t even freak out. I just stared at my poop covered digit with bitter resignation, sighed deeply and went to wash my hands.
Guys, I think I have come to accept poop fingers as my lot in life. So that’s how my day started.
A few minutes ago, Olive, Adam, Gus and I were having an ApplePear party (in case you have never had the good fortune of attending one of these exclusive invite-only events, they involve sitting on the living room carpet eating slices of apple pear, breathing heavily into your mothers face and dancing in between bites. They are exhilarating.). After taking a bite, she lunged towards my face for what looked like a kiss but ended up being a punch in the face. Seriously a full on closed fist PUNCH. In my left eye.
(My GOOD eye, I might add)
So that’s been Sunday over here. But, BUT! BEFORE that, we had some fun! That’s right, after the poop finger but before the eye punching, came this!
Today was the day for picking (and eating) the last of the fruit from Adam’s parent’s backyard. They have an apple tree, a plum tree, a pear tree, a grapevine and something delicious called an ApplePear tree! It bears fruit that are round like apples with the texture of pears, and a taste that falls somewhere in the middle.
It just a giant fruit basket of a backyard and we have been gorging ourselves on fresh fruit and dried fruit and homemade applesauce for weeks now. Burp.
I like nothing more than to make baby hats, and Olive is going through this phase right now where she is too good for shoes or socks or hats, and their very presence enrages her to the point of murder, so when I managed to get her wearing all three, I knew I had to document the event.
Even Gus got in on the fun
How wholesome and delightful!
(See how first I disgusted you with tales of poop and punching, and then I wooed you with pictures of wrinke-faced dogs and apple-cheeked babies? It’s a fine line, in this blogging business folks. A fine line indeed.)
In other news, we are driving to Alberta for a friend’s wedding next week and oh god, why do we keep doing this to ourselves? I think Canadians are uniquely insane in this regard, that driving 14 hours is just par for the course. Back in the day Adam and I wouldn’t have even blinked an eye at a 14 hour drive. Like, no big deal, you pack the car, I’ll grab some double-doubles and we’ll hit the road!
But now. Now there’s the small matter of her. HER. She with the squirmy nature and shrieky voice. She who has made it abundantly clear that 3 hours is about the most car seat time she will tolerate at once.
So we are trying to decide the best way to go about this. We are torn between splitting the driving up into two six or seven hour days with a hotel stay in the middle, or just givin’ er and powering through. The whole thing in one day. Waking early so she’ll finish out her sleep in the car, then busting out all types of illicit entertainment that we have spent the last eleven months scorning.
That’s right we’re talking movies, kids music, toys that play noises at ear-piercing levels of shrill fuckery, the whole nine. If we do it this way we will be requesting one shot of whisky each once we reach our destination in Edmonton, in the hopes that this shot will wipe clean the previous 12-14 hours just like the blue pill in the Matrix.
(Red pill? Blue pill. I’m pretty sure it was the blue pill that returned you to your oblivious matrix life but I am confident that if I’m wrong some nerd will pipe up and correct me. Liam? Chuck?)
ALSO. I have been trying to contain myself but Livvie turns one in SIX DAYS. SIIIIX DAAAAYS. I wish this were GeoCities so I could make that font size 72 and glitter.
I’m a little excited.
Well folks, I think that just about covers it.
Poop finger, face punching, pear eating and the matrix. Good day.