The Best-Laid Plans of Domestic Blister Often Go Awry

23 04 2008

I woke up at 6 a.m. to some serious spring rain. A sheet of gigantic plopping drops. The kind that doesn’t so much bring May flowers as it does pound those brave bunches of early flora to the ground. Normally, I like this kind of rain. It’s the kind I like to dance in, especially now that I am the proud owner of a pair of grown-up giggle galoshes. (A grown woman in floral print rubber boots doing a jig in a mud puddle is always good for a laugh.) But not today. Today I had plans. And my plans did not include rain or mud puddle jigs. I had planned to pack up Squiggles in our brand new super spiffy Ergo baby carrier and go to a workshop at the parent-child centre to learn how to make my own baby food, before sauntering down the street to pick Neener and Roo up at school. But by the looks of it, I’d have to take the loathed stroller instead of the awesome carrier because at least the loathed stroller has a rain cover. 

I am used to this, the phenomenon of wrenches being thrown into my plans. I’ve learned not to put too much stock into how I think things are going to pan out. I’ve learned that the best-laid plans can change in an instant. Sometimes it’s little things, like rain on a day when I planned on sun. Sometimes it’s big things, like planning to have a baby, and winding up with a two for one deal. That fateful moment when the ultra sound technician informed us we were having twins really threw me and my ‘midwife assisted water birth in the living room, organic cloth diapers, nothin’ but breast, finish my great Canadian novel while my baby sleeps in a funky sling‘ plan for a loop. Instead, I had to revise my expectations to fit the ‘hospital birth with a small army of doctors staring at my hoo ha, preemies in the NICU, too many diapers, not enough milk, forget writing and try to grow another set of arms to rock two screaming babies‘ plan. Even with baby Squiggles, there were things I planned on doing that just didn’t go the way I figured they would. She was born with a partial paralysis of her bottom lip, and couldn’t suck hard enough to be exclusively breast feed, so that plan had to change. And much to my surprise, having another baby did not magically make me better at doing laundry, so for the sake of my sanity and Squiggle’s bottom, we ditched the cloth diaper plan again. And a peaceful baby nestled next to me in a cozy sling? Not Squiggles. She responds to the coziness of the sling by trying to gnaw her own leg off in hopes of escaping. This, in between the deafening howls. So that sling sits in a drawer unused and replaced by a less restrictive baby carrier. A reminder of plans gone awry due to circumstances beyond my control.

But, by the time I finished bitching about the rain, about my plans being foiled, about having to take the hateful contraption we call a stroller out, the rain had stopped. So on went the carrier, in went Squiggles, and off we went down the puddle studded street to the parent-child centre. I noticed along the way that the flowers had not been too badly flattened by the rain at all. They were already starting to perk up, proving themselves more resilient than I’d given them credit for. There were still a few clouds hovering overhead, but I elected to take my chances. It’s not like Squiggles or I would melt if we got caught in a little bit of rain. And besides, I know all too well that plans can change in an instant, and that has helped me develop a motto that holds true for mothers and boy scouts alike. Always be prepared. And I am. I packed a rain jacket and my giggle galoshes in the diaper bag just in case it started to piss pour rain again. Or just in case I felt like doing a little jig in a mud puddle on the way home.






One response

23 04 2008

This is great! Glad a few things worked out for you.
If you want, I know someone who’s looking to buy a sling 🙂

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