love you forever

Everyone I know knows the book Love You Forever. We've all read it as a child and it's the mandatory gift at baby showers. Luckily we only received one copy so we didn't have to run around returning multiples. Before Jude was a month old I had read it to him and sung the song:
I'll love you forever
I'll like you for always
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be

A couple trips ago I worked the diner for the first time since coming back from mat leave. The first time he entered the dining car I stopped what I was doing and watched, tears hanging back heart swelling. He was tall, fit, in his fifties. Standing behind his mother arms outstretched, supporting her as she inched her way to the table. The trip was a delight, weeks across Canada exploration time together. I can only imagine how hard every movement was, seeing many seniors struggling to get into bed, use the tiny washrooms, even just walk on a moving train heavy doors unusual movement. But she smiled every time I saw her and was the sweetest thing. And every meal he accompanied her, smiling and chatting with each person he saw, clearly enjoying her company and never showing any frustrations at the tiresome pace every single thing took.

She was ninety. Mary and Myles from Maryland (tongue twister much!). The late, accidental baby. The best one, he bragged. I asked whether they knew the book and they didn't. But I had to describe it (poorly) to explain how much my heart burst watching the two of them. What love. Over ages. He doted on her and clearly enjoyed their moments together. I can only wish for half of that relationship when my children are grown!

Last night I read Love You Forever quietly to Jude as he half listened half watched bedtime sesame street. Too long of a book at this age for him to sit through. But the lull of my voice in his ear, the gentle images and cuddles we can take. How different my life was before he came. How much quieter and lazier and sometimes boring. Now, it's never boring, always busy always too much. But cuddles. A head turned for an open kiss. Copy cat sounds. Naked bum shaking in the living room. My heart bursts with love. Amazing how love can only build until you feel you can't take anymore and somehow the heart makes room for more.

a bunch of totally random unrelated things

As I said up there, totally unrelated clips of Sarah's life coming up.

Tomorrow I leave on a dreaded Vancouver trip. Lucky to have worked almost all Toronto this year, this being only the second long trip west this season. Perhaps my last trip, perhaps one more. Even Chris asking "So? Layoffs happening yet?" when the answer is always we don't know! We never know, this time of year loaded with anticipation, nervous to work lots make more money expecting the hatchet to drop anyday. But oh, how I look forward to those glorious first two weeks off. The first two weeks when you revel in being home everyday and get so much done and aren't bored yet with the stillness. First you run out of projects at home and things to clean (the upside is being in a totally organized and clean space) then you start new endeavors, go to groups, get moving get inspired to do something - it's then that you notice the stillness. The lack of movement where things stay the same. The train keeps me moving but when it stops..

I was so lucky this year, a fantastic crew with Sonny, Jen Faith and Andrea, Steve Mickey Kevin, Jeff and Savo... So many memorable trips especially in the coaches with Claudette or as often working takeout. Memorable passengers, a fantastic summer indeed... I missed two trips off my crew, one from a last minute bookoff the other for the union conference. Each missed trip being the worst of the summer! The first train a sixteen-hour-late arrival into Toronto and eight hours late going home, the second train stopped at Capreol behind a derailment, bussed passengers to and from Toronto crew staying late to receive passengers at all hours. Missed out on the worst trains. Lucky indeed.

Jude is into walking backwards now. And spinning in circles. He leads with a waving hand or a head and rarely runs into things. And he spins equally well in either direction. He'll pause to grin at us and wait for us to laugh before continuing. He dances all the time. A shaking bum or spins or clapping, waving hands and jumping. I should film it before that changes. He loves all kinds of music and you know when he likes something because he'll stop what he's doing, run up to the computer and start spinning or dancing. Such a cutie and a little ham. We read the same book all day as he brings it back over and over. Sometimes immediately after finishing I find the same book insistently pushed into hands. In the middle of reading one book Jude complains No, Night Cars. Can I finish this one first? No, ok. And begin reading again. Luckily we and the library have beautiful books that I don't mind reading twenty times a day.

My photoset is now up on Cherrystems!  So totally exciting. I picked Adventuress as model name and now have a great set up. After I finished going through self critically I love the great shots my awesome photographers got. Most of the pictures were done by Christel Lanthier or Sabine Chorley, since Julie returned near the end. And wow! Although the lighting was moody and dark they all made it come through really nicely. Thanks you ladies so much! Now where do I get naked next...

I walked to the park

Then I fell. These new shoes.

 I watched big kids play

 

Now mama READ me a book!

I really don't feel like writing about anything else. I have more, much more and it's crowding my mind but my back hurts from sitting at the computer for too long and I still have another episode of Mad Men to watch before returning to Movie Village. So for tonight that is all. And let me tell you my shitty six year old computer deleted two paragraphs of this blog, parts that didn't save immediately like usual. Lovely evening frustrations but tomorrow I hit the rails.

halifax in photos

We all went off to halifax, union rail conference. Sat on committee, met and worked with locals across the country. Nice beyond words to have Chris and the babe along. Noontime nursings, naptime cuddling, days of dad and babe exploring maritime streets. Took the train home leisurely, stopping to see grandpa/great-grandpa for an afternoon in montreal. Train days, train views, sleepy boy head in mama's breasts.

expectations

somedays I don't know what I'm doing. I bury my head to ignore the letters I don't want to see, escape by watching others' lives and covering myself in immediates. immediate needs, immediate cuddles, what shall we eat, let's walk to the park. Beautiful days with birds immediately seen in leafless trees. Eyes always drawn skyward - a helicopter, a flock of birds, the moon now out before we head home from the park, little dark eyes intently focusing on new sights. These days are bittersweet, knowing soon complete darkness will follow from end of days, sunshine fleeting glancing off banks of snow. Snowsuits, car trips to grocery stores, eyes downwards keeping wind and snow at bay.

I don't really know if I like winter. Certainly I expect it and enjoy some of the changes brought. Craving heavy, satisfying fare to weigh down my insides as the rest is already weighted. It brings knits and classic Christmas mixes heavy on Ella, Nat and Frank. Pinot Grigios and sad novels. I was reading Sylvia Plath's journals recently feeling hidden, covert reading into the recesses of other minds, a mind winding giddy excitement to devastating negativity. A mind analyzing and working through self in words. Strange to see another's life in journals. Who would read mine? Who would I want reading mine? I am proud of my life, background and experiences. I wouldn't want anyone else's life. But someone always gets hurt hearing one-sided truths.

Do I really dislike winter living in Winnipeg? I like the shows and plays and gatherings that go on in the darkness to lure us from our cozy nests. I like hot chocolate, sleigh rides, snowmen, long dark evenings curled up in silence reading hours from heavy books. I'm not sure if I actually like winter though. So many preparations, warming cars scraping windows, heavy minutes getting dressed and layered for prairie gusts, tingling toes with never enough warmth in the feet... Fragile frozen glasses fogged at every entrance. Eyes leaking tears quickly frozen on rosy cheeks. Definite mixed feelings.

I have no motivation lately to finish projects. I am freaking out about not being ready in time for my show next month but don't want to sit and practice. Procrastination leads me to keyboards and easy distractions... My knitted sock sits half finished waiting for me to attempt turning the heel. Papers piled set to the side. Lately no one asks what I am doing or if they do I feel they don't actually have any interest in the answer. I am surrounded by people but feeling lonely. 

leaves

This cycle of leaving and coming home again draws to a close. Maybe only one trip left, perhaps two. I am used to the ebb and flow, our family connection stretching to include my absences and delight at returning, discovering home life exactly as I left it. Well, almost exactly. Every time there are new things he learns and discovers. This time I was surprised to find him intent on putting on socks himself. Tiny fingers pulling, trying to figure out how to position his toes in the opening, acrobatic manoeuvrings.

I remember myself when I go. No more scheduling appointments, making meals and ridiculous silliness. I separate from motherness, content socializing and giddy celebration at being alone, wandering alleys bookstores parks, eyes open to beauty and people. When I am on the train, I smoke cigars and drink whiskey. I revel in an entire day open to whatever I choose. I am a traveler, a discoverer, a watchful gaze analyzing, dissecting relationships, people, nature.

What joy to return! Big grins, a soft head of busy boy hair snuggled into mom, eyes closed in happiness at the first nurse. The world drifts away and resets to how it should be. How will this change once I'm at home? I know it will settle into a rhythm, remembering how concerned I was five months ago at the opposite end of readjusting back to work. Now we return and struggle to place ourselves back into the roles we changed months ago.

I've had a lovely summer.. Watching "Rabbit Hole" premiere at the film festival, making friends with the bookstore owner addicted to purchasing, loving, surrounding himself with stacks of books. Chatting up storeowners, locals, finding delicious eateries. The times at home just as sweet.

I spent all my tips on books last trip. And recognized someone in the vast downtown of toronto (a passenger from trips ago but still. exciting familiarity). Picked up the Metropolitan Museum of Art Color Magic Sticker book for only $11. a photography book of black & white fathers with their babies. Eric Carle's 10 Little Ducks (two copies, one for Jude and one as Clark's first birthday gift). The Testament of Gideon Mack for myself. Heavy books loading down my already too large suitcase but smiles all around at opening the new books upon getting home.

Chris and I celebrated our TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY last week!!! We went out over the weekend with my cousin Tanya and her husband Colin, who we always have such fun with. Fondue at the Melting Pot, corn maze ridiculousness included Tanya sneaking us into the Haunted Forest, past paying customers patiently waiting long in line through the exit. Cheesy costumes and a large group of just-18 farm kids completed the fun. Trippyness in the black hole was the best part, the "colon" or newly dubbed "giant vagina" was silly and hardly claustrophobic at all. Capped with a dip in the hot tub and a night sans bebe. Such fun!

I only have a month left before the piano concert. Had a minor freak out upon realizing this on the train. No time, no time for anything. Too many things happening but I will move methodically through them until we emerge on the other side. All is well.

the autumn funks

Sometimes I wonder why I write so much of myself down here. Do I really think myself to be so exciting? Not really. It's cathartic, at times. To send everything out there. I don't really think many people care, or read. But in ways just the writing it down helps.

I used to keep a journal. For years, starting at twelve. Every page another boy's name of the month, my adorations poured out into kitty cat pages. Sad I destroyed my last, teenage journal in a fit of feeling discovered. Then years where I didn't, random thoughts jotted onto scraps thrown in bags, at times refound and stashed alongside other years. One day when I look back...

I started again a few years ago. It seems when working through things, when thoughts collide banging around the clock, the writing pours and figures everything out. I ponder in words. I can't see all the angles and think silently through it all. I often find talking distracting, other people's opinions don't help and sometimes have no one to share with. You could either see I'm self-involved or introspective.. It's just me.

In the last few years I've become very happy being me. Very content. I created a life that I love, my house my things, a love and a family. So many positive things come together and my life is quite fantastic. In ways I couldn't have imagined when I was fifteen.

Piles of positive, happy moments. And still there are times when things just don't sit right. They seem off, the world colored, weighted with negativity. Discomfort. There isn't really a reason that you can discern and you know the good things are still there. And still...

These thoughts pile on and I know it's the time of year where everything is dampened, slowing down for the hibernation. Nothing seems so terrible that I need to start medicating, officially... It's funny how those of you who have been there understand easily and others won't see how.

So I'm journaling again. Writing furiously into evenings, ideas stamped on every page. Rereading, analyzing and organizing my thoughts and life. That's why I write here, although I really expect no one to care. Some days I have to write it down. Sometimes typing is faster than handwriting! I need to.

It's autumn. Gorgeous, hot sunny autumn. But the days are shorter, heavier fall meals began, tuques and layers, sweaters... I love them but they make me sad. These Roving Eyes put up a fall playlist on his blog *dripping with sadness or strings or both*. Already two of my heavy rotation of Sia and Owen Pallet are on the downloadable list along with some new favorites. I moving forwards, sluggishly some days but continuing to slog through towards better days.

* * Started work on the photo exhibit of nursing moms.
* * Piano concert preparations are coming along. Some days I think I sound great while others bring disappointment. Still lots of time to perfect.

It's busy. I start the spareboard in a couple days and trying to make arrangements so when the tenant moves out end of month we can take over the upstairs room. And still make money. Respite?

Nursing Mom Photo Project

I am starting a photo series this winter about nursing and specifically the reality of nursing moms in the workplace. Not making a specific negative or political point but showing scenes of a nursing, working mom's life.

The idea for this series came as I was in uniform waiting to leave for work on the train, having our customary "last nurse" with my fifteen month old strapped into his car seat and me hurriedly leaning over him while looking out the back window. To create that shot in a beautiful way would document our ritual and reality. I then thought of other realities both positive and negative that are just a part of a nursing mom. Pumping milk in the bathroom during a break. Other times I've always had a room to go to and didn't have the negative feelings associated with actually nursing him in a bathroom, but still. This reality of sitting in the bathroom pumping milk all to continue this feeding connection with my child.

I have a few ideas for shots but would ideally like to create a series showing women's experiences. This is a collaboration more than anything as I will need photographers (I have a few in mind already but let me know if you are willing to lend skills) and models (depending on the scene either moms or more likely momma and child) who would be willing to work on the project this winter.

I also need ideas! If you are or have been a nursing mom in the workplace, send me in your experiences, your ideas... as detailed as possible. Tell me what's important about that moment, what you envision when you remember it, etc...

Thanks for thinking about sharing your insights. I really hope to hear from lots of mamas!