This weekend Boof and I realized that in NO way are we ready for another infant. We had a family reunion across the mountains in Eastern Washington and because my brother’s almost-ex-wife is not letting him drive her around (can’t wait for the custody to be figured out soon), so we packed her up in our car, along with Potamus, crazy Scrummy the dog (sporting his new “autism” wrap to help him stay calm) and headed out over the mountains with bro following on his banged up crotch rocket.
The trip went smoothly there, stopping once in Cle Elum to refuel the adults and the babies (and a pee break for Scrummy). The day was spent catching up with my grandma, playing Catch Phrase (a game I am wicked awesome at) and sneaking away for a coffee break with my good friend. The BEST part was introducing Potamus to The Columbia River. He wasn’t nearly as impressed as me, but did warm up to it after awhile, even dipping his toes in the water on his own and reaching down to touch the waves.
On the way home, however, I decided that despite my 6’1 frame, I am really an Olympic gymnast. It was getting late (for babies, which means it was aproximately 6:20pm) and my niece started whining…which set Potamus off whining…which ended up in this big circle of whining (I joined in), that wasn’t alleviated by my holding a bottle or pacifier into the back seat for Niece and trying to hold one of Potamus’s toys out for him to play. It wasn’t working. Because we were still on Blewett pass, with very little area to stop and refuel the babes, I slid into the backseat….in between the two car-seats. Yeah, brings back memories of “double-buckling” when we were kids. To sooth Potamus, I leaned as far forward as I could and flopped my enormous boob into his mouth. Yay, I got to celebrate World Breastfeeding week in an unsually contorted position! Meanwhile, my other hand was trying to hold the bottle of pumped milk out for Niece to drink from.
She might be the slowest eater ever.
Potamus might be growing through a needy/whiny/nurse-to-sleep-and-keep-nursing-for-20-minutes phase.
(needless to say, I got a massage this week to deal with the new kinks I discovered).
So there I am, boob in the mouth of one babe, arm stretched for bottle in the mouth of the other, and I realize that Scrummy is eating a poopy diaper in the front seat.
Awesome.
I said, “wow, we need a picture of this!”
In Boof’s unruffled way he replied, “I’m sorry, I’m not in a position to be taking a picture at this moment.”
So we survived our day trip, but I’m thinking I’m going to be less-inclined to get knocked up before Potamus is in…oh…say college. One crying baby in diapers is enough!
boof & monk-monk 