Picture this. A young family of five shopping for groceries in a busy store. The dad has the newest member of the family, a three week old girl, strapped to his chest via the (once) popular ‘Snugli’. The new mom is pushing the grocery cart that holds a cute-as-a-button 22 month old daughter in the front and a pile of groceries in the back. The oldest child, a 4 ½ year old brown haired, huge eyed son is walking beside the cart asking a new question approximately every 37 seconds.
This is a picture of me and my family on a sunny day in late April, 1985. I had just recovered from an easy birth via cesarean, but an agonizing and dangerous battle with infection after. I came close to losing my life and had spent the past two weeks recovering at my in-law’s house. No one had lived at our house for three weeks and the fridge was empty. We were stocking back up on provisions.
About half way through the store the grocery cart was so full I couldn’t fit as much as a can of beans in it so hubby decided to go fetch another cart, take the full one through the checkout as I continued to shop and, after loading the groceries into the car, return to help me finish up. Sounded like a plan to me.
I continued up and down the isles, piling the necessities of life into the new empty cart - things like baby diapers, toddler diapers, diaper wipes, diaper cream, and – oh yes – food. I was eagerly anticipating being back in my own little house and sleeping in my own big bed. As I turned down the next isle I looked up to see my husband heading back towards me from the front of the store. As he got closer I noticed that the baby, who I was certain was wearing a cute little pink velour sleeper when he left with overflowing cart, was now stark naked. Stark. Naked. It was only then I noticed the look of consternation on daddy’s face.
“The baby. She’s naked.” I stated the obvious as he walked within hearing distance.
“Yeah. No kidding.” Was the curt reply.
“What happened?”
“This.” He lifted her body away from his chest and I had a hard time swallowing the bubble of laughter that welled up my throat as a large greenish yellow stain on the front of his white shirt, from mid chest to waist, was revealed. From the look on his face I knew that laughter would not go over well at this juncture. Gulp.
“Just as I was handing over the cash for the groceries, she let go a huge one and it went EVERYWHERE. I was SO embarrassed. I have spent the last 15 minutes trying to clean it up with McDonald napkins I found in the backseat of the car. Do you have any wipes in that cart yet?” Obviously he didn’t see the humour in the situation at all. Which, frankly, didn’t surprise me much as I seem to have all the sense of humour in this family via my British heritage. Plus for once I wasn't the one wearing baby insides on my outside so I had a whole different perspective.
I dug out the wipes from the bottom of the cart and handed them over. As he was tearing into them I opened the package of baby diapers and held one out.
“Give me your wallet and I will pay for the groceries while you go back to the car with the kids and wait for me there.” I offered.
“Yeah, well there is another problem.” He said as he mopped the front of his shirt. “The groceries are taking up so much space that there isn’t room for everyone so I am going to have to go home and drop them off and come back for you.”
“Fine. Just take the baby then.” I said. “And while your there put some clothes on her.”
“I will.” He snatched the diaper out of my hand.
“And feel free to take the time to change your shirt while you are at it.” I grinned.
“Thanks. You’re all heart.” He called over his shoulder as he headed off.
The cockles of said heart were warmed as I watched him head down the isle. I loved my little family. And I loved it that my husband was wearing baby insides on his outside, for once. And as soon as I knew he was out of earshot, I let the laughter come.
Monday, October 20, 2008
WEDDED BLISS
Well it looks like it is finally going to happen. One of my kids is going to tie the knot. And I have to say, I couldn't be happier for her. Well, ok I could.
The guy she is marrying is Mr. Perfectly Wonderful. Really. He is the type of man I didn't think existed anymore, other than on film. He is a gentleman; thoughtful, caring, kind, generous, absolutely madly in love with my daughter and isn't afraid to show it. She is madly in love with him. She is blissfully happy and is certain she has found an amazing man who she can spend all her days with.
So why could I be happier?
Because they are getting married on Tortola. And no, that isn't the island from Pirates of the Caribbean. That was Tortuga. Tortola is the largest of the British Virgin Islands. It's an unspoiled vista of lush jungle and white sandy beaches sitting in a sea of... well... Caribbean blue. Perfection. Picturesque. Exotic. Expensive. Very.
Just getting there, no wedding stuff, just GETTING there and accommodations (for four flights and a house that sleeps seven) is going to run over $10,000. That doesn't include spending money or food. And no wedding stuff. Did I say that already? There will be more than four people there but that's the four I am paying for, at least initially.
She wants a beach wedding. And somewhere in-between his family in London and ours in Vancouver so that it doesn't look like they are favouring one side over the other. While I understand the sentiment the logic of it is killing me, to wit: so, instead of inconveniencing just half of the guests let's inconvenience everyone. Hmmm.
It's not like we don't have nice beaches right here in B.C. I will admit most have what is more like gravel than sand for a beach but not all of them. Tofino is one of her favourite places and the sand is actually sandy, if not the sugar white stuff of the Caribbean. I am sure we could have a gorgeous wedding there. Or I hear tell there is a nice spot on the water in Tsawwassen. Even better. And I am sure his parents would love to see Vancouver if for no other reason than to see where their first-born plans to make his home. But that isn't what they want. Alrighty then. So how about not having it in high season? Wait 6 weeks and the villas will slash prices in half. But that doesn't fit the time line for when they leave London and need to start the sponsorship process for his Canadian citizenship. Ok then. High season on Tortola it is.
Bottom line is this: she is my sweetie; one of my babies. I love her to death and I want her to have the wedding of her dreams. Heck, I wouldn't mind spending a week in the Caribbean in the middle of February. But, and it's a big one, right now the funds just don't exist. Like an idiot I spent the family allowance all those years on books and orthodontics for the kiddies with the goal of raising readers with nice teeth, instead of stashing it away in a high interest account for such a time as this. So what to do? Pray. Pray hard. For another union show like jPod to come along SOON and last all through the winter like Blood Ties did. Because if this winter to come shapes up like last winter, I will have a hard time holding onto the house and car let alone winging myself and three others off to paradise for a week.
And the ex better be ready to cough up the cost of the reception. Because after I pay for the brides dress, my dress, invitations, favours, table decorations, a hair and makeup gal to come along with us, a wedding present (as someone reminded me today...to which I replied 'the whole wedding is a present!!!!') and who knows what else... that meal might be the only one I get all week.
The guy she is marrying is Mr. Perfectly Wonderful. Really. He is the type of man I didn't think existed anymore, other than on film. He is a gentleman; thoughtful, caring, kind, generous, absolutely madly in love with my daughter and isn't afraid to show it. She is madly in love with him. She is blissfully happy and is certain she has found an amazing man who she can spend all her days with.
So why could I be happier?
Because they are getting married on Tortola. And no, that isn't the island from Pirates of the Caribbean. That was Tortuga. Tortola is the largest of the British Virgin Islands. It's an unspoiled vista of lush jungle and white sandy beaches sitting in a sea of... well... Caribbean blue. Perfection. Picturesque. Exotic. Expensive. Very.
Just getting there, no wedding stuff, just GETTING there and accommodations (for four flights and a house that sleeps seven) is going to run over $10,000. That doesn't include spending money or food. And no wedding stuff. Did I say that already? There will be more than four people there but that's the four I am paying for, at least initially.
She wants a beach wedding. And somewhere in-between his family in London and ours in Vancouver so that it doesn't look like they are favouring one side over the other. While I understand the sentiment the logic of it is killing me, to wit: so, instead of inconveniencing just half of the guests let's inconvenience everyone. Hmmm.
It's not like we don't have nice beaches right here in B.C. I will admit most have what is more like gravel than sand for a beach but not all of them. Tofino is one of her favourite places and the sand is actually sandy, if not the sugar white stuff of the Caribbean. I am sure we could have a gorgeous wedding there. Or I hear tell there is a nice spot on the water in Tsawwassen. Even better. And I am sure his parents would love to see Vancouver if for no other reason than to see where their first-born plans to make his home. But that isn't what they want. Alrighty then. So how about not having it in high season? Wait 6 weeks and the villas will slash prices in half. But that doesn't fit the time line for when they leave London and need to start the sponsorship process for his Canadian citizenship. Ok then. High season on Tortola it is.
Bottom line is this: she is my sweetie; one of my babies. I love her to death and I want her to have the wedding of her dreams. Heck, I wouldn't mind spending a week in the Caribbean in the middle of February. But, and it's a big one, right now the funds just don't exist. Like an idiot I spent the family allowance all those years on books and orthodontics for the kiddies with the goal of raising readers with nice teeth, instead of stashing it away in a high interest account for such a time as this. So what to do? Pray. Pray hard. For another union show like jPod to come along SOON and last all through the winter like Blood Ties did. Because if this winter to come shapes up like last winter, I will have a hard time holding onto the house and car let alone winging myself and three others off to paradise for a week.
And the ex better be ready to cough up the cost of the reception. Because after I pay for the brides dress, my dress, invitations, favours, table decorations, a hair and makeup gal to come along with us, a wedding present (as someone reminded me today...to which I replied 'the whole wedding is a present!!!!') and who knows what else... that meal might be the only one I get all week.
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