Soothing Bathing Hour, With Chickens

When you are a caregiver, sometimes you have to get creative with your care. This is doubly so when both of you are coming off of a week plus of being sick (first James, then myself). For example, after clearing some dishes and laundry this morning, I focused the day on showering. This means almost two hours of psyching up and prep (clean bathroom, wait for clean PJs from the dryers, towels out, wipes and bag ready). The actual showering planned to take place during the warmest part of the day, when washer and dryer will be free to deal with his bedding. 

Then comes the bathing campaign, letting James know it's eminent, and literally catching him in a bedroom-bathroom loop that's lately been so find of, and sweeping him down the hall and stocking the bathroom with towels and choices of shirts and PJ bottoms for after.

While he preps for the shower I sweep the bedding into the washer (so glad it's a huge one and can take it all), add extra soap and turn it on. 

I am sitting in the armchair, encouraging the process - literally calling the plays, clapping, and giving out encouragement. I found something new to distract him from complaining and stalling: an online chicken timer, set to piano music: 

This helps us both not go down the meltdown hole and keep a our sense of humour.

Then, while he's working on shampooing his hair, I will get temporary clean bedding on his bed.

When shower sessions are over, the day is still warm and it's time for a milkshake reward.

Inside Resistance to the Outside

Spring is definitely in the air, as of this week. For days I have been indoors at work, occasionally dreaming of outdoor places I'd like to be.

Today was another sunny and warm day. After the morning grocery run and making breakfast and scones, I gathered my sketching things and had the kids pile in the car. Off we went to Preston Vineyards!

At first, James was just bit whiny. He has been off his iPad for going on three days and he is not fond of heat and bright light, but those are lesser evils when compared to a neighbourhood of lawn mowers.

I love Preston because of its peace, old-world charm, and cats. They also have a very nice red wine and bake amazing bread. They hang Polaroids of their chickens in their on-site grocery store, so you can see which chicken laid your eggs. Their organic olive oil is amazing. The grounds also begged to be explored and discovered.

I wandered, bought bread (still warm from the oven), and took pictures. I even sketched. My daughter drifted after the cats and pursued them slowly throughout the gardens. James draped himself over a table and started to complain. It was hot for him. He was bored. I called him over to see if I couldn't help turn it around for him.

James whined even more. "I want to go home. I need new underwear!" I had him sit with me in the shade, in a quiet spot. I talked about exploring. We used our five senses together. I almost got him exploring ... and then he crashed and howled, tugging at his pants in a fashion that would do a plumber proud. Well, I tried. And we did spend some time outside in this glorious weather.