I may be crazy. Or, put it this way - if I'm not now, I might be by the end of all this.
This Saturday is Gwen's first SCA event! As this may mean nothing to most of you, I offer the following explanation: This Saturday, we will be sitting in a large field in Port Alberni, after having risen at some ungodly hour, dressed the baby and ourselves, and driven for 90 minutes to get there. With only a gazebo-style tent for protection from whatever weather is thrown at us, I must do all the typical mothering things I usually do all day from the comfort of my own home: feeding, diapering, entertaining, soothing to sleep (without the swing, ACK), keeping Gwen appropriately warm/cool, and so on. All while dressed in medieval garb, or in this case the closest thing I could find to medieval garb that would still allow me to nurse.
Oh, and while I'm sitting in the field, there will be armoured fighting and rapier combat and other things to watch, not to mention, I'm sure, a steady stream of people in medieval garb commenting on how loudly my baby is able to cry. "She's got her mother's lungs!" they all say, thinking it's the first time I've heard that comment.
So, after a potluck 'feast' on Saturday (and dear God, I have no idea what we're going to bring to that), we'll pack up the car and head back home, hopefully arriving by 10pm.
Sunday, in addition to the 6.5km walk dictated by my half-marathon training schedule, I must do laundry. And on Monday, I must pack. Because on Tuesday, we leave home again, this time for a four-day trip up to our family's float cabin on Powell Lake.
Repeat all previous notes, except read "sitting on a cabin deck" for "sitting in a field" and change "people in medieval garb" to "my parents".
No, in all seriousness I am really excited about that trip. My parents haven't seen Gwen since she was about a month old, so they are in for lots of surprises. And I'm sure they'll have more to say than commenting on how loud she is.
We come back from that trip next Saturday evening. Sunday will again see me doing laundry and Monday will again see me packing, because we're not done yet. To complete the triumvirate of travel, Gwen and I are going to the Lower Mainland the following Tuesday through Thursday, mainly to meet the amazing Ira and congratulate his incredible mother. (Well, I will congratulate her. Gwen will issue her congratulations in the form of drool.) I even decided, based on the unexpected arrival of the Canada Child Tax Benefit, that I can afford to take my car to the city, which simplifies things a great deal (no need to detach the carseat base and stuff it into the stroller for a walk-on ferry trip). Also, no need to pack light. Heh.
With all this travelling, though, I am getting my head around a few things. The very first time I travelled with Gwen, which was to Powell River for a baby shower and a visit with my parents way back in early May, I was completely gobsmacked when I realized that I had to pack for the baby as well as for myself. This is because I am not so very good at packing for myself, and I always forget something. To extrapolate a list of what this tiny new person, who came without the ability to speak for herself, might need for a three-day-trip, seemed impossible. But with each trip I'm getting a little better, and with these upcoming travels I've actually developed a checklist of what Gwen needs if she's going to be away from home for more than a few hours (of course I have).
She's actually quite the well-travelled little girl, and we are oh-so-lucky that she seems to take the upheavals in stride. In her three short months of life, she has already done the following:
- Trip to Powell River at 3 weeks old (4 days, 3 without Chris)
- Trip to Vancouver at 7 weeks old (And I remember thinking when planning this - "Pssh. Seven weeks old? I'll have this mothering thing totally down by then.")
- Trip to Victoria at 12 weeks old (3 days, entirely without Chris)