A Slice

Well, it seems that the new no-nap schedule Boodge has entered has one major drawback.  My free time comes in the evening, and I have never been much for doing activities that require focused attention in the evenings.  I've never done homework late at night either.  My brain just isn't optimal after 8:30.  By the time Boodge and Peanut are in bed I just want to shut down and chill out for an hour or two before crashing myself.  It doesn't  help that I have a new iPad (thanks, Dad, for the awesome Christmas present) and that means if I am ready to get a new book, I can just order one up in a few minutes.  And when I get into a good book, lots of things tend to fall to the wayside.   All that to say, I'm not blogging as much these days, am I?
Also, it's summer, and life is moving quickly.  Not this week, though. this week we are on "staycation", enjoying the week of Sean's employer's company shut-down at home, catching up on projects and relaxation.  I've been thinking about my blog and trying to just be OK with letting it be for now.  I'm practicing that hard these days, letting go of things, letting them be, going with the flow.  So I'm not worrying too much about writing, though I do miss it and all the nice connection it brings sometimes.  And I do want to keep feeding all the friends and family that check in here regular little slices of our life.  So here I am, serving it up.

Last weekend we headed to what us BC Mainlanders call "The Island" (Vancouver Island) to attend my cousin K's (partner to the lovely D) 40th birthday.  It was an all weekend affair, with a smaller gathering of people on the Friday night and a big bash on the Saturday.  Some of his dearest friends had flown in from across the country.  My brother also flew in from Ontario to surprise him by showing up at the party.  It was great having him here, his first time in BC since our wedding almost 4 years ago, and he got to see our house and meet sweet Peanut. 

On the Friday of that weekend we all piled into our new-to-us mini-van, christened "Millie-Van" (Not because Sean and I are die hard Millie-Vanilli fans, but because Boodge says it that way.  Mickey's girlfriend is Millie Mouse, around here.)  Yes, we finally upgraded our vehicle as we've been wanting to do since before Peanut was born, trading in our '92 Honda, Paloma, she of no radio antennae or cd player, nor lighter outlet for plugging in an iPod, and one patched tire.  Now we have a pale blue vessel that is the newest, shiniest vehicle we have ever owned. It has air conditioning, a working stereo. Hell, it even has a TV and DVD player.  It is pretty much the height of luxury, as far as I'm concerned.  Knowing my brother was coming and we needed to get him to the Island was a good catalyst for buying Milli.  My bro is 6 foot 5, and there was no way we were going to all get there in Paloma.

So off we went.  We met my cousin N, (K's sister) and her partner on the ferry, so we could squeeze them into Milli too and take them to K and D's place.  Milli was full to bursting.  Sean even brought his banjo, his newest passion.  All of us were pretty excited to be bringing the "surprise" and we plotted along the way to drop my brother off at the corner so that he could walk up to the door and knock after we had come in, said our hello's, unloaded the van, and gotten back to the party.  Or, my brother suggested, he could just sneak in and blend in with the party.  By the time we dropped him off, we hadn't really finalized the "surprise" plan.  We left him on the corner and proceeded to their place.

About 5 minutes after we got there all of us who had come in Milli were making excuses to walk outside and look up the street.  "Where is he? Is he lost? No, he can't be, he's just taking his time." As time wore on we weren't sure what to expect, but we all wanted to be ready for the moment.  We were trying to figure out a way to all be near K, somehow unobtrusively having our cameras ready, when suddenly K and D's 5 year-old came running out into the hallway. 

"Boodge is pooing."

I heard Boodge's high pitched little shriek he does when he's upset and scared.  "I'm coming!" I passed off Peanut and followed little-O into his parent's bedroom.  Boodge was there in the ensuite, crying, little pieces of poo here and there in a trail from the carpet in the bedroom, leading towards the toilet. 

"Let's go to the other bathroom, Boodge, there's a potty ring. Just hold on--" But I cut myself off.  There was no need to go to the other bathroom.  On the floor next to the toilet was all the poo a three year-old could possibly have in his body. 

I'm going to miss the moment!  I ran into the kitchen.  "What's going on?" D asked? I told her. "But I don't want to miss the moment, we'll clean it after."

"No, I think you should clean it now," she said firmly, getting some rags and cleanser for me. I grabbed a plastic bag and tore a firm piece of cardboard in half for scooping.  I don't want to miss the moment.

"Oh no!  I have to clean this poo. I don't want to miss it!"

"Don't worry," said N.  "He's waiting. I saw him coming in and stopped him. I've got your back."  She always does.  And so I was able to go back in, clean the mess, reassure my child, and get my camera ready.  A little while later, my brother slipped into the party and waited for K to notice him.  It took a while, but when he did, K was overwhelmed and it was beautiful.  I saw them hugging and I saw them as the boys they were once upon a time, my brother tall and skinny and mild, K fast and tight and bold.  And there they are, men, "grown-ups", as we cousins used to call them back in the day when we were the ones pooing on the floor and running out to get adult help for each other. 

I was reminded again of how grateful I am to have my cousins and brother, we who have seen each other through so much life, who have each others' backs.  I'm glad to add yet another great weekend-long party to our list of memories together.  To see our kids beginning to see each other through their lives.  To be the grown-ups, now.  If K is 40, and we have a mini-van, we are all, for sure, grown-ups.  Even if often I still don't feel that way. 

So there you have it, a slice of life, the shit that's been happening.  A little bit of family being.  And now, for me, time to shut down this brain and go read something someone else has written.  Listen to Sean plucking his banjo.  And soon go to bed and cuddle up next to Peanut, sweetly sleeping baby-girl at the peak of her cuteness.  I'm feeling pretty blessed.  Being grown-up is pretty good, sometimes.