Word on the Street was not as much fun this year as it has been in years past. I think that is partly because it’s moved to Queen’s Park and is one day instead of two and that made it feel really congested, to me, as well as cut off from the vibrancy that is to be found in its previous section of Queen St. West.
But it was also because writer-me was saddled with mummy-me and so I would dart up to a small independent feminist press booth and almost initiate a conversation before wondering “where’s Carl and the stroller and my baby!” and then I would take the stroller and think about breaching the crowds of crazed alpha-parents and their Bugaboos at the Scholastic booth and my writer brain would chime in that it’s insane to trample parents and children to save a dollar or two on books that are to be had all the time via various bookstores. So it was neither a Writer Event nor a Child Literacy Event.
Nonetheless it was good to be out and about and in fact I think I am getting a proposal together this month for a book we’ve talked about writing forever (and which is more than enough written for a proposal) because someone was interested in it. And because I can actually see putting a proposal together while Noah’s awake because it does not occupy the same space that causes me to forget time, child, etc. like fiction writing does )and which means I cannot write fiction while being responsible for small bodies).
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Speaking of small bodies I am reading the very excellent Protecting the Gift (same author as The Gift of Fear) and it is really helping me as I prepare to look through my 21 responses to my babysitter ad. I also especially like how it talks about kids needing to learn to talk to strangers – be rude – and have a chance to exercise their “people-sense” rather than isolating them out of fear and that is – so hugely true; a big component in our abuse was definitely that we were brought up to be good and to be fearful. So thumbs up for this book.
It’s also reminded me to ask myself the question: what are you NOT seeing while you worry about a babysitter? and the answer is a few childproofing things we have procrastinated on that Noah is now tall enough/agile enough to need to have fixed. So we will be doing that this weekend if not before.
Also that I have taken on a fair amount – the baby, the house, and part-time work – and as we hit the toddler stage it will be really important for me and the system to monitor our stress levels and ask for help when we need it.
I tried to talk to my mother about this book too, and boy did that go over like a lead balloon. I guess I was sort of hoping that even if we can never rewrite the past or her or my dad’s personalities, that maybe referring to an outside expert would open room for why Noah doesn’t have to kiss her, go to her if he’s feeling strange, etc. But it didn’t, and it was a good reminder of the “pass the cheese dip” philosophy of family communication which is, “oh and Noah is still nursing, and he doesn’t have to kiss people he doesn’t want to, pass the cheese dip please.” (Rather than trying to, you know, convert people to a particular point of view. He’s my kid; this is how it is, kthxbye as the kids say these days.)
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On the note of my mother though I have to say that she has been way more wildly supportive of me and loving of Noah than I ever imagined was possible.
It doesn’t mean there still isn’t a gap there and I remain acutely aware that it is my responsibility to protect Noah from certain distant possibilities and not get sucked into anything that could make a dangerous situation. But both are true. And Noah adores her and my dad, and they adore him and it is very neat to see how grandparents and grandchildren can be together. And really there have been days when my parents’ support was something I needed and wanted and it ended up being there which is kind of healing, in a way. Even if it creates a lot of cognitive dissonance.
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This week is a week without deadlines at my work (although work to do! I’m doing two phone interviews Fri!); probably the last such week for the next several months so I’m trying to set myself up for success by getting a lot of home organization stuff done as well as get a freaking babysitter. Today was buy whatever we need for fall day and as the local Value Village had failed me I went to the Old Navy outlet and bought a few things new, and also found him a hat and mittens at the Roots outlet.
It felt very decadent, since my philosophy on every day baby clothes has largely been to make do with gifts, hand me downs, and second-hand, since they go through them so fast and do not care what they are wearing as long as it fits and is comfy. But he’s slowing down in his growth, and so has every other kid at that age, and so a lot of the stuff for resale is actually showing holes and stuff.
Anyways the point was that I had consumer fun filling in his wardrobe, but also a bit of sadness about Emily, for whom I actually shopped while I was pregnant. It never ever goes away, it seems. And the girl clothes really are cuter. I wanted to buy Noah a “I want to be a cowgirl” shirt but it seemed like something that might come up in therapy later… his therapy, that is. :-)
Okay time’s up. I have 1165 new msgs in my Hotmail account, if anyone is wondering, but today I started sorting them and tomorrow I will start answering some and in the meantime I apologize stupidly as I see I have Missed Things some people who read this have sent me. I don’t know why I put this here except I know it will still take a few days.
