Bad Mother Lost

July 15, 2008

Yesterday, I got lost. Badly lost.

Like, lost as in take the wrong train and end up a station with a name similar to the one that you were aiming for but not exactly the same which is to say the wrong station located in the middle of oh my god butt-freaking nowhere such that when you finally realize that you’ve made a terrible terrible mistake but you’re already like an hour and a half into your journey and you can’t turn back because there are two things that you absolutely must accomplish within a limited time frame – pick up baby’s passport at passport office and pick up baby’s grandmother at airport – and so starting over is not an option and in any case that train station that you just left is at the top of a nasty flight of stairs that took you twenty minutes and the assistance of a blind man to get down, what with the infant in the fucking stroller and all – and, since we’re on the subject, why did that same man wait until the stroller had been wrestled down to the bottom of the stairs before informing you that you were, actually, about an hour away from the place that you were trying to get to? – which is how you found yourself standing at a desolate bus stop in front of some sinister industrial buildings with tumbleweed rolling past your feet and the shrill of vultures circling overhead.

That kind of lost.

I do not, however, have the mental or emotional energy to try to work that story into anecdote. After days and days of barely being able to meet the demands of everyday life, that one day sucker-punched me and now I feel entirely incoherent. So the story of getting lost in the dark territory that is Toronto’s near-suburbs must deferred – which is to say, given the reality of blog-writing, lost – as must any account of my bus ride out of the land of the lost, during which I sat across from a gentleman clad in a t-shirt that read Screw Me If I’m Wrong But Haven’t We Met Before?, as well as any recounting of the oddly touching half-hour that I spent in a nursing room at the mall adjoining the passport offices with an on-duty Jamaican cleaning lady and a half-dozen teenage goth girls, one of whom was nursing a beautiful, blond 13-month old who wore a cheery onesie that read Mama’s Boy. Nor am I able to muster the will to rant about the absurdity of infant passports, or the bizarre complexities of the Canadian foreign affairs bureaucracy.

So I will just let the Girl Formerly Known As Wonderbaby have the stage today, and she will use her words* to introduce her newly passported brother to everyone who will meet him this weekend in San Francisco:


That’s my BABY BROTHER!

His name is JASPER!

He has TWO WHEELS and a BIG HEAD!

And he LIKES BOOBIES!



(*As proclaimed to a waiter at Boston Pizza Sunday night)

(If no-one sees this baby in San Francisco this weekend, it is because his mother has gotten lost. SEND HELP.)

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    { 38 comments }

    Don Mills Diva July 16, 2008 at 10:25 am

    I can’t wait to see you both and hopefully to cuddle the little boob man on the flight there!

    Niksmom July 16, 2008 at 10:35 am

    ROFLMAO at the “two wheels…” bit! I won’t be at BlogHer but I hope you nmake it there in one piece(well, two including Jasper)!

    Fo, enjoy, and let boob-man, er um Jasper, be coddled and cooed at by the masses while you relax!

    motherbumper July 16, 2008 at 10:56 am

    I never ever noticed the wheels before. Now that’s just nifty. I bet HBD had those installed, right?

    Nina July 16, 2008 at 11:00 am

    I’m bringing my infant son to BlogHer too (I think he was born a week before Jasper).

    I am so freaking glad that I do not need a passport. I’m so sorry you had to go through that ordeal.

    Beck July 16, 2008 at 11:18 am

    Wheels, eh?
    I have a similar lost-with-a-small-baby story, and even nine years later it’s still a rather desperate, miserable memory.
    Today will be better.

    Maddy July 16, 2008 at 11:33 am

    A self propelled baby, what more could you want.

    Watch out for the one way system in SF. Meeting five lanes of oncoming traffic does nothing for the wrinkles.
    Cheers

    ewe are here July 16, 2008 at 11:34 am

    Wheels?

    Don’t suppose your waiter was a moritifed teenager after that revelation? heh heh

    justmylife July 16, 2008 at 11:47 am

    Atleast he wasn’t on a terrorist watch list. Could have gotten ugly. Enjoy BlogHer!!!

    hschinske July 16, 2008 at 11:48 am

    You know what Einstein said when confronted with his baby sister: “Where are the wheels?” I believe he had been told he was getting a baby sister “to play with” and assumed she was some sort of wheeled toy …

    lavandula July 16, 2008 at 12:09 pm

    hahaha wheels and a big head…thats hilarious. sorry you got lost.have lots of fun in san francisco.

    kittenpie July 16, 2008 at 12:11 pm

    Wheels! WEll, I could use summa those. Wherever did you get them?

    And yes, I have to admit, I’ve had a thought or two about how ridiculous it is to issue a passport with a photo for a human who looks like most others his/her age and will change drastically within something like 6 months or a year.

    Jenn July 16, 2008 at 12:26 pm

    That sucks,getting lost with a baby makes it even worse. I love what she said about the baby ,too funny!

    Carolyn...Online July 16, 2008 at 12:49 pm

    The universe should have sent a taxi to rescue you from the wrong train station just to be polite.

    Lara July 16, 2008 at 1:33 pm

    did you get my email? i promise i will make sure you don’t get lost. or at least i promise that if you do get lost, you’ll be lost with me, a person who has the phone number of at least a dozen people who could drive to where we are and drive us where we need to go. together, we will overcome the complexities of the SF public transportation system. wheel-baby and all.

    Karen Sugarpants July 16, 2008 at 1:36 pm

    I grew up in Scarborough and was a 17 year old nursing student leaving home in the wee hours of the morning and getting home after dark in the days of Paul Bernardo. That place is fecking scary as hell. I’m so sorry you got lost there – what stress!
    Have fun at BlogHer though!

    Heather July 16, 2008 at 2:17 pm

    I’m in awe of you ladies who are taking your babies to BlogHer. I am not that brave.

    CaraBee July 16, 2008 at 2:20 pm

    “and he likes boobies!” Too funny!!

    Backpacking Dad July 16, 2008 at 2:31 pm

    We tried to take the train once from the main terminal in Rome to the Vatican, St. Peter’s.

    Not speaking Italian, and translating signage too hastily, we ended up in a very non-Vaticany part of Rome. Where St. Paul’s is located.

    St. Paul’s. No piazza, but there was a gelato dude with a cart.

    flutter July 16, 2008 at 2:32 pm

    if I don’t see you both, it is because I have gotten lost on the BART and have somehow ended up back at my house in Arizona.

    Heather July 16, 2008 at 2:33 pm

    Wow, glad you made it back alright and got the boy his Passport. I remember when hopping across the border was just as easy as hopping across the border….ah, those were the times.

    Have fun at Blog Her!! I’m sure you will find it just fine!

    Mitzi Green July 16, 2008 at 2:56 pm

    this is the part where i start to think it might be a good thing (for me) that i live in probably the ONLY metropolitan area that doesn’t have a mass transit system…

    The Former Idealist July 16, 2008 at 3:03 pm

    I will have to send you my picture of the Stamford pigeon. The husband and I were headed to Irvington, NY, but we ended up on the wrong train. Then, due to the husband’s insistence, we ended up on another wrong train (the express, bound for Connecticut). It was a magical afternoon, chock full of marital hiss. Our only memento of the side trip was the pigeon picture…

    My sympathies–must say, have never yet had such a misadventure with a baby in tow. Unless, of course, you count the husband…

    Janet July 16, 2008 at 5:01 pm

    Yeah, the prep to go to BlogHer is kind of kicking my ass. And I don’t even have a (deliciously cute) newborn.

    The Canadian passport rules for babies are crazy. A friend of mine had to have her infant son’s passport picture redone about 6 times before the bureaucrats deemed one acceptable. Not. Tiring. At. All.

    EarthyMotherr July 16, 2008 at 6:26 pm

    Oh my freakin’ word, he so precious!

    Good luck in the S.F. Hopefully the travel and the weather and the babies will take it easy on you.

    – V

    Naomi July 16, 2008 at 7:05 pm

    hey, my jasper is turning one this weekend, one of the reasons we won’t be in sf… the other being poverty, of course.

    Lady M July 16, 2008 at 8:12 pm

    Can’t wait to see you and the newly-passported Jasper! I’m not planning to bring Buster, but you never know how things will work out. Maybe the boys will meet.

    Rachael July 16, 2008 at 9:29 pm

    I’m so glad you’re not lost anymore! I don’t know how much good two wheels can do you if you don’t know where you’re at.

    Auds at Barking Mad July 16, 2008 at 10:06 pm

    If you think the Canadian foreign affairs bureaucracy is bizarre, try the UK one. Oiy! The Little Imp is a dual citizen (English and American) and it’s taken us a friggin YEAR, as in TWELVE months to get her UK and American passports straightened out. At least I won’t have to do THAT for another ten years!

    As for Jasper, cuteness! Buckets of cuteness and I just wanna squeeze him. I miss that age.

    Mom101 July 16, 2008 at 10:08 pm

    You can drink when you arrive, right?

    Tell me you can drink.

    Her Bad Mother July 16, 2008 at 11:10 pm

    Mom-101 – can drink, and will.

    Jaelithe July 17, 2008 at 1:49 am

    If you get lost, I will find you and we can be lost together.

    I have a terrible sense of direction myself and I’d feel so much better lost with someone else.

    Emma's Mom July 17, 2008 at 2:55 am

    Ahhh, I love the word boobies, especially from out of the mouth of a 3 year old. As I nursed my 2 mo old son at my daughters dance class my, 3 year old daughter, announced to a bunch of 9-12 year old girls, “that’s my baby brother Jackson, he’s drinking milk from my mommies boobies”. I was horrified and embarrassed and the girls were giggling hysterically. Oh well! Glad to know I’m not the only one having my boobies announced!

    Mimi July 17, 2008 at 5:58 am

    Hey! That’s the same face I’m making in MY passport picture :-)

    (Sounds like a hellish day, actually, and I’m very sorry you had to suffer it)

    caramama July 17, 2008 at 7:46 pm

    Sorry for suck a crappy time getting lost! I hope you have a great time at Blogher! Jasper is so adorable!

    Mandy July 18, 2008 at 5:43 pm

    Scarberia is indeed a frightening place.

    I’m glad you made it safe and sound to BlogHer, having seen both you and the baby.

    rantsalamode July 18, 2008 at 11:52 pm

    Your daughter’s adorable comments make me want children of my own! “He has Two wheels” – priceless!

    Issas Crazy World July 19, 2008 at 6:44 pm

    I don’t feel like I should comment on the post above this one, since I’ve not been around for so long. But seriously Catherine, hugs to you. I’m glad you are surrounded by lovely ladies and a few lovely mens this weekend. Let them take care of you, it’s hard but I’m sure they’ll do anything to help out.

    And girl, that baby is so freaking cute. Truly.

    Haley-O July 22, 2008 at 1:52 am

    He’s so adorable!!! :) And, I LOVE the name Jasper….

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