Repressed Memory

I have been in bed for the last 45 minutes, trying to fall asleep.  I was almost there, when suddenly, a memory which I seriously think I had been blocking out of my mind for the last four months came to surface.  I feel compelled to share it.

Four months ago, I took the kids to San Antonio, Texas, in the hopes of being present during the birth of my best friend's daughter.  She was born at a freestanding birth center run by midwives.  Unfortunately, her birthday was almost two weeks after we returned back to Switzerland.

Because I was potentially going to be present for the birth, the kids and I went with my friend Leta to one of her prenatal appointments at the birth center. 

A note on birth centers:  (I love birth centers, by the way)  They tend to be very minimalist, serene, silent, peaceful places, filled with the gentle smell of unscented candle wax moving through the three states of matter, and occasionally the sort of silence that comes right after someone stops writing on parchment with a quill.  They are a testament to the beauty and sacredness of birth. 

However, they should really have a disclaimer on the door, "Pregnant ladies:  Enjoy the minimalism, peacefullnes, serenitiy, and silence, because when you walk out of here with your baby, you will never experience these things again."

So you can imagine, taking my children into the birth center was sort of like releasing bulls in a China closet.  But we did our best, and at least 50% of my children remained calm and quiet, as usual for my kids.  During the more "intimate" parts of the exam, the kids and I stepped into the waiting area, where there was a basket of toys and children's books.  All was well and good, but... inevitably, somebody had to pee.  Ok, I admit, it was me.

Do you have small children?  So you are aware that peeing is a group activity.  The two kids and I all filed into the small bathroom in the birth center, and I tried to accomplish my task as quickly as possible.

Do you have small children?  So you are aware that obstetricians' and midwives' bathrooms always contain random cups full of other people's pee, just waiting for the appropriate member of the staff to analyze it. 

I really feel like I could end the post here, as I think you can all see where this is going, but I'll go ahead and finish it, for therapeutic reasons.

I was sitting on the potty, doing my thing.  I had a firm grip on Ivy, who was attempting to unlock the bathroom door and escape, mom's dignity be damned.  So far, par for the public bathroom course.

Normally well-behaved Eliot took a sudden interest in the neon red medical waste box hanging on the wall.  With visions of heroin laced hypodermic needles and HIV soaked cotton balls dancing in my imagination, I made a split-second decision.  I let go of Ivy to wrench his prying fingers away from the box.  There was almost certainly panicked yelling involved.

Ivy took her freedom, and, instead of making a run for it, she suddenly noticed the sample cup of some other pregnant woman's pee on a table specially provided just for sample-holding.

She grabbed the cup.  The cup began to tip.  She was knocking a cup of someone else's pee onto herself.

Time really seems to slow down in these moments, doesn't it?

I took advantage of the strange slow-time worm hole we had entered and snatched the tumbling cup from the air.  The time-space continuum snapped back into place.  A wrestling match ensued, during which Ivy and I were both copiously splashed with some random person's urine. 

Luckily, the random person in question had left a generous sample, and I was able to save a respectable quantity.  I seriously did not want to have to explain to the other woman in the waiting room why she needed to go pee again.  What is the social protocol in this situation?  Would I need to buy her a bottle of water?  Reassure her that her wonderful baby would never grow up to become a feral lab monkey like mine did?

Having some stranger's urine splashed all over you and your toddler is sort of awkward.

Having to discuss the situation with the stranger who produced the urine would be more awkward.

So I suppressed what was about to be a very high pitched scream followed by vomiting, and got to work instead.

I sterilized Ivy and I as best I could.  I think I pinned Eliot to the wall with my foot to keep him away from the medical waste box while I scrubbed Ivy and me down.  (Why don't midwives keep wire brushes in their bathrooms?)

I used about 30 paper towels to clean up all evidence, and then we tranquilly walked back into the waiting room and sat down. Personal hygiene standards were completely violated, but socially awkward crisis was averted.

And a few days later, I somehow completely blocked the entire event from my memory.

SOOTC

That is, straight out of the camera.  They haven't been lightroomed yet!  Sigh.

We are in hot, muggy Texas, awaiting the arrival of Leta and Tim's baby girl... waiting... waiting...

To keep cool and pass the time, the kids and I have been doing a whole lot of water play.

My to-do list ate my *incongrously funny object*!

I've been thinking about the title to this post since last night, when I threw aside my to-do list and decided to do nothing but think about blogging about my to-do list. 

"Should the title read, Ate my firstborn?  baby? sandwich? left arm? keyboard?"  Each possibility gave me a little giggle, and so I just couldn't choose. 

If you are wondering about the definition of procrastination, please reread the above paragraph.  But first, make yourself a cosmo and take a nap.  And then get back to my blog, you know... whenever.

So, a friend of mine on facebook recommended adding an "approximate length of task" to each task on my to-do list, as a way of helping organize myself.  As it turns out, this is more of a way of panicking myself.  Different folks, different strokes, I suppose.

Luckily, of my four to-do lists (To Do Before Trip, To Do(ula), To Do To My Website, and To Do (General)) only the first needs to get done this week. 

Additional lists floating around the house include my grocery list from this weekend which has my meal plan on it, and my packing lists for each family member except Frederic who, as a grown-up, will (hopefully) be packing for himself, my lists of clothes to buy for the kids in CA, kitchen staples to buy in CA, photo ideas for Haf's birthing day...  And let's not forget my shopping list at amazon, to order just as soon as I put a bit of money in my US bank account, to add to my doula studies.  I also have a "To Think About" list, which just goes to show, things are perpetually backed up around here.

And what did I do while the kids quietly self-entertained for an hour this morning? 

I laid on the ground and sketched out the floor plan for a dollhouse I might want to build them while I have access to power tools.  And then I realized I could probably buy one for way less than I could make it.  And then I had a mental argument about the value of homemade versus the fact that it would cost more to make it than to buy it, and who was I to think I was competent as an architect to go around designing houses that open on a hinge and can accommodate dolls and furniture built on  grossly varying scales of miniaturization.  And then I figured Ivy would probably just eat some miniature doll chair and end up in the hospital.  So I decided I'd better just set aside my blueprints and get to work on trip preparation. 

And that's when the kids decided they were done self-entertaining.

Luckily, I have a plan to get this all done.  Mostly, it involves Friday night, from 7:30pm until midnight.   

I put up my to-do(ula) lists on my doula blog, which is linked from www.lausannedoula.com.

Did I mention I'm still in my pajamas? 

California Christmas 2

(The guy on the far right is a bum that my parents decided to feed in order to share the Christmas spirit. Don't worry, I kept my pepper spray on me at all times.)


Marc got in a lot of practice baby-holding in preparation for the (keep your legs crossed, Haf!) imminent arrival of my niece and nephew!

California Christmas 1

Santa comes twice for lucky little ex-pat children!

"I heard on the roof...

... the prancing and pawing of each tiny hoof."

Airplane

Our flights were as easy as possible with two kids- which turns out is actually pretty easy. It's sort of like taking care of them at home on a rainy day, except that I don't have to cook.

As planned, putting on a movie right around nap time lulled him to sleep within minutes.

When the cat's away...

...the mice will play. This is what Frederic and his brother did last time I left him alone to go to California! I've been meaning, and forgetting, to put these pictures up for him for a LONG time. Sorry, sweetie! I still love you!

Frederic

Frederic's brother
Frederic's cute butt

Brunch à la ferme

Happy Swiss Day! Today we went to "Bruch à la Ferme", a fun way to support local farmers on the Swiss national holiday. We met up with my friend Dena and family, at a farm in the Vallée de Joux, about an hour away.

Our thoughts? Great food, lots of little animals to admire... too much direct sunlight! We left around noon to try to beat the skipped-nap-crankies.... we had mitigated success.Eliot and Sam, getting to examine "A tractor. Mommy, A TRACTOR! Mommymommymommy TRACTORRRRR!" up close.

You may be asking yourself, "Does Frederic ever go anywhere without a coffee in his hand?" No, no he doesn't.

Room to run

Ivy and I, walking back to the food tents

Ivy makes a mad grab for the yogurt!!!

A few family shots

"What do you mean I have to wait two more months before I get any good Swiss farm food?"

Fun with Grandma and Grandpa

Pa, the baby whisperer

Ferocious bubbles- look out!
Off on the (unsuccessful) lizard hunt

Sacramento Zoo

Fairy Tale Town

Aunt Hafsa, Eliot, Monica, Ivy

Eliot, Nana, and the rabbit

Ivy, Monica, Eliot, Hafsa as the Cowardly Lion, Tin Man, Dorothy, and Scarecrow

Eliot, Ivy, Monica in the Little Engine that Could
Eliot waving hello

Eliot and Aunt Hafsa at Cinderella's pumpkin carriage

Aunt Hafsa and Eliot at the Crooked House

Eliot and Nana at Owl's House

Captain Eliot at the helm

King Eliot at the Round Table