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By doriluthy, May 29, 2011 12:00 am

We just got back from our annual camping trip to the West Coast of Vancouver Island- our dear Tofino! Well, actually, it’s Green Point, Long Beach and Uke that we adore the most, as we find Tofino is turning into a busy and predictable (although still charming) surf and tourist town. But alas, we will continue to call this destination by it’s loveliest name: Tofino… Doesn’t it just roll off the tongue in such a nice way? Tofinooooo…

Anyway, since I find myself 6 months pregnant (again!) while setting up camp this year, and as the official Mama, I decided it was fully within my rights to maximize for comfort this year. Why should I tolerate nights of bad sleep for the sake of Camping? And who said camping had to be uncomfortable?? Why have I believed this for years? SO, with a belly full of baby, I came armed to create ‘The World’s Comfiest Tent’:

Um, yeah, let’s call that a success… I’ll break it down for you: a firmly inflated double height baffled air mattress (heaven!), flannel sheets, copious layers of warm quilts, sunshine (gracious me!) and a beautiful boy gazing at his boots… It was really hard getting out of bed every morning given these conditions and considering that Mr. Finn is a top-notch snuggler. That bed was absolutely key to my coming away from this week feeling like I am actually RELAXED, and not in more discomfort, or more tired, or… well, it’s a little tricky being pregnant while camping.

Backing up a few weeks in this pregnancy, I had spent the earlier part of this month recovering from a separated pelvis- officially the most painful experience of my life, and something I hope to avoid the rest of this pregnancy (and for the rest of my life? ahem). It was only after a couple chiro treatments and several days of bed rest (thank goodness for Dad’s who are available at the drop of a hat!!! xoxoxox!) that I was back on my feet. So suffice to say I didn’t want to risk my body for the fun of a few nights in a tent, even if it is the most beautiful place on earth.

A lovely lovely trip, different from any other, and possibly my favourite so far. And as camping seems to go for me- food always tastes better, the sunshine is more appreciated, the rain is more tolerated, the company of friends is so delightful and ‘just right’… and for the first time ever, the nights were cozy and comfortable. Who knew?

Oh, and Finn wanted you all to know- HE LOVES THE BEACH! Sticks, sand, shovels, water, wind, birds, weird seaweed, happy people… what’s not to love?

So for all of you out there sitting on the fence about camping- take it into your own hands! Bring the hot water bottles, favourite pillows, warmest slippers, and thermos of chamomile tea. Let’s name our experience COMFORT- instead of accepting hand-me-down foamies and slippery sleeping bags that drag down the good name of camping.

Now, why did this never occur to me before? And this leads to further wondering- what other beliefs am I still hauling around with me these days that aren’t my own? hmmm… I might need to do more camping this summer.

Happy comforts, dear readers!

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By doriluthy, October 14, 2010 12:51 am

I’m heading off to Portland in the morning with the little boy. We’re taking the train south to see the family on this journey which I have taken OH so many times in the past 8 years, (here and here are just a couple). This journey south will be Finn’s 3rd since he was born. Doesn’t it just seem right? I mean, to bring him on this trip that really defines for me the journey ‘home’. To be honest, ‘home’ has always been a funny thing for me. Over my years I have lived in a few different countries, in multitudes of houses, and have purged and re-purged my belongings so many times along the way. And as an adult, (really?) of course I now have a home with Dustin, but the tree outside this home is quite short in the scheme of life and generations and traditions, etc. And with parents who travel for a living, and my insatiable desire for a sense of belonging somewhere, I realized about 10 years ago that I had to find for myself a place where the tree is long and tall with branches stretched out beyond my reach, and roots deep and old that extend far into the earth. A tree with more stories that can be told, with recipes and family bibles, and antique guns, and black and white photos of young people looking serious (but one can imagine how fun they were). And so in my searching I found the tree is growing on the side of a wind-blown hill, well tended by my dear Auntie B, and her long-reaching knowledge of ‘what is’. It’s roots also stretch up the river to Gram’s house which is filled with the relics of bygone generations that were all a part of making our family. It’s all just right.

Although these are not homes I grew up in, this is home for me. So I take the baby to breath these things in, knowing that all of this is much more important to me than it might ever be to him… but that’s just the point of being a parent, I suppose. Me: This is so important! Him: But I just want to play with this stick.

It’s a tiny bit overwhelming to travel with the baby. He has so many more pieces than I ever did when traveling this same route. It used to be an Ipod, snacks and some knitting was all I needed for an 8 hour train ride. Oh an maybe a little Jack Kerouac. But now? Books, toys, food, bottles, milk, diapers, more diapers, car seat, the sling, can I fit the pack n play?, Suitcases 1-3, and can I manage my camera case, too? Oh boy. Oh well. On the other end of the journey is the home of the tree, and it will greet us with branches swaying in the wild winds that blow up the gorge, and I will sit quietly (even just for a moment) and listen to a story or two as I revel in the fact that I am home.

See you soon, tree.

p.s. And I might bake a loaf or two while I’m home, cause that’s just what I do these days.

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By doriluthy, May 2, 2010 12:27 am

Finn turned 6months old yesterday! What a big milestone in our journey, and the little meatball is just surprising us every day with his funny little personality that’s emerging in charming outbursts of smiles, shrieks and giggles. Finn and I got back on Thursday from a 10 day trip south to Oregon, gone down to see family- another grandpa and gram who were out visiting, and more aunties and cousins he hadn’t met yet. Needless to say he was a big hit (proud mama). We both missed the papa a lot, and were happy to be home again.

Well, we said an unexpected farewell to breastfeeding while we were down in Oregon. I’m going to talk about it, cause I still can’t quite believe it’s done… We went with family last Saturday to the Cherry Blossom Festival in The Dalles, and between the parade and hours watching the Elvis impersonator (love) and carrying and holding onto a 20lb baby for many hours in a row just did a number on my back. I was okay for the evening, but could feel it getting worse that night. In the morning I had a terrible back spasm as I was lying Finn down for a nap, so I laid with him, trying to relax it out. A heat pack and some pain killers helped temporarily to get me down the highway to my next destination, but by Sunday night I was in such pain I couldn’t lift the child- not a good place to be with an 8 hour train ride home scheduled on Tuesday.  So a trip to urgent care on Monday morning, a prescription for heavy duty pain killers, and a postponed ticket meant a few days healing at my aunty’s house (really, the best place to heal- body and soul). It was the best place to be to talk about letting go of the milk.

I just came downstairs from lying in bed with Finn, breathing in his sleeping sweetness. His soft skin and long eyelashes, baby sleeping grunts and chubby fingers. Ahhh… One of the biggest treats in travelling with Finn by myself is that we sleep together in the bed, and I can enjoy his little warmth all night long. He was nursing for the first few night we were traveling, when he’d wake up confused and a little frightened at 5am, it was a comfort that would help him go back to sleep. Then after a few nights when he was comfortable in our new surroundings he stopped waking/nursing in the night, and then pumping was difficult to do on the road. Then the pain killers, and that milk would just be dumped if I kept pumping. Well… it just happened that it ended. 6 months in, and I’m trying to find pride in that I made it that far with the whole thing. Where are the words to describe it all?

Complex emotions, split feelings, and here at this juncture I was introduced to the Zen Buddhist concept of Ichi-go Ichi-e. Rather timely to have this appear in front of me, considering the well of ‘what-ifs’ I am floating in. Is this inevitable? Considering the struggle? And I don’t know if that idea of ‘there is no try-again’ is more helpful or sad. I have been stuck in a loop of wishing I could go back and try again. I honestly just want to feel here and now and enjoy the experiences, instead of looking back over my shoulder thinking I could have done something to change the outcome. That I didn’t try hard enough, or long enough, or get help soon enough, or enough help, or… Looping. Gonna try to stop that.

As I was lying upstairs with Finn a bit ago, I was looking over at our big bookshelf lined with the huge variety of books. My mind was wandering through titles recalling those books I’ve read, those I plan to read, and those I might have told a professor in University that ‘of course I’ve read’. And in these thoughts about books, baby and breastfeeding, I realized I tipped over into a feeling of a sense of presence and awareness that I haven’t felt for some time. There was a shift in consciousness, heightened and aware, and I could feel in that moment some peace that time was pausing for a few breaths and I was being held by it to just be in gathered in my thoughts and body and soul, cuddled in bed next to my child, observing a bookshelf that represents a journey through adulthood. It felt really good. Then it passed, and everything was exactly the same except that stirring feeling from the soul had wisped away… and I was back to the anxiety and mind-chatter and tension, but feeling a little bit softened by that moment of peace. I think it was a reminder that there is more beyond these current feelings, and as our good friend Buffy likes to remind me, ‘this too shall pass’.

I am okay. Right now listening to Linda Ronstadt and drinking mint tea as the night winds down and bed is calling my name. But I think I want to talk more about my experiences of parenting soon, and what that journey is like. Cause I’m having a load of fun with Finn and learning so many things about myself. This breastfeeding challenge has been the bump along the road of a mostly awesome time, and I want thank you readers for making space for me here to journey through it. I think there must be some grace of it being ‘over’, that I can begin to find the place to let it heal…

A river that flows.
The bridge that safely crosses.
Dropping a bundle of sticks and leaves.
Watching it float away.

Ciao.