Monday, November 7, 2011


The inspiration for this post came from a comment
from my friend,
NoRegrets who said that we all have
an "inner sculptor".

Which brought up an old memory of my first born,
who was a very young sculptor.
At the time I was driving two newspaper routes
in southern Oregon,
for The Mail Tribune, Wall Street Journal and San Francisco Chronicle
The Oregonian.

This job allowed me to buckle Boo into his Bobby Mac Car Seat
(before the days of a law telling us to do so)
and drive all night...
flinging papers out or over the top of my car,
stuffing boxes or filling machines.

Boo slept most of the drive
and I didn't have to pay for a sitter.
The sort of things we do to save money when we first start families.
He looked like a small blond angel
in my rear view mirror.

After the last paper was thrown,
I'd take my sleeping cherub and lay him in his crib
so that I could catch a few hours of sleep.
But as a precaution,
we set his portable crib near the floor level
and dropped the side open.

No more monkeys falling off the bed!

We also added a screen door to his room
that I could lock from the outside.
I didn't want him to fall out
and I really didn't want him to get up and wander before I noticed.
The idea of that scared me.
His room was baby proofed and it was like a large play pen.

Not that I intended to sleep the day away while he was left to his own devices.
My husband was leaving for work as I was getting home.
5:00 AM
After driving all night,
it would be 9 to 10 hours before he could return to watch the baby.
I was being realistic
and covering all the bases.

One morning I woke on my sofa to giggling.
I smiled and sort of dozed in and out for a few precious moments with an open ear as he played in his room.
Boo liked to stand at the window and watch the kids walk to school.
"Hi! Hi!"
he'd yell and pat on the window.
The kids would laugh and wave back.

When I stirred my lazy butt off the couch
and went to look in on him...
I found a curious set of objects
that he was moving around like toy animals.

When he had fallen asleep,
he was in a set of overalls... the kind with a snap crotch.
I wasn't going to wake him just to change him into jammies.
The legs now flapped around his legs
like a dress.

Fuzzy headed,
I looked more closely at my son's chubby hands
and his "animal friends" in them.
They were a funny sort of yellowish brown.
My angel had made a set of poop friends.

I probably don't need to say that this woke me up completely.
Or that I immediately cleaned him and his room up.
Poop sculpture is a messy medium.

Boo was about 10 months old at this point.
Just walking well.
The creativity bug bit him early.
I suppose that is true of most of us,
when left to create without the rules of life
getting in the way.

It was the method that shocked me.
But his play truly was creative for his age.
I felt bad when I had to flush his friends.
*     *    *    *    *

As a funny aside...
I was on a blog called "Debbie Does Britain".
Her writing is delightfully funny.
I wanted to leave a comment...
but the comment wouldn't work.
I tried an email, 
but that did not work either.
Sometimes I can be inept.
Blogger sent me to a thing saying I needed to join
to leave a comment.
So I followed the directions...
only to find out that I had joined my own
Guess I didn't get that one right either.

But hey, I've got 8 Followers now!


  1. Gahhhhhhhhhhhh, what a scene - too funny! "..I felt bad when I had to flush his friends." Best one-liner ever - haaaaaaaaaaaa! And yes, it IS a struggle in the early days, and you never realise how much easier it gets, not until you look back. Things we do, indeed, eh?

    Oh, I've had this exact same thing happen to me, trying to post HERE, from time to time - tho' it often posts with no trouble at all, which drives me nuts (not being able to post, just not knowing like, with this comment, if it'll show or not)!! Here goes, fingers crossed..

  2. Ew.

    Yeah... kids, huh? One day my older, when he was much younger, was crawling on my bed. I was just lying there playing with him and whatnot. He crawled up, leaned over my face... and puked right into my mouth.


    Funny you joined your own site. Heh, heh.

  3. Ewwww...gross! Yeah, I've been there.

  4. Oh, that is great: I felt bad when I had to flush his friends. Made me LOL. And my, you were creative. I'm surprised he was able to sleep in a crib if most of his sleeping was in a car.

    It's so nice to inspire a post.

  5. As gross stories go, that's one of the funniest! Poop sculpture. Eegyugh!

  6. Shrinky- I was clueless about what I was getting into in those days but optimistic. The one thing I could count on was that my kids would do entertaining things.
    Blogger and I often fight. I can't listen to a music video at one sight. I have to go to youtube to watch it, then come back to comment or Blogger boots me out. Weird.

  7. Cricket- Bleeeeck! No doubt your mouth was open, laughing. Ew is right!

    Yep. I'm my own fan! hee hee

  8. 3GirlKnight- You can't be a parent and not have those situations. With your three beauties, I'm sure you've had a full share.

  9. 3GirlKnight- You can't be a parent and not have those situations. With your three beauties, I'm sure you've had a full share.

  10. Suldog- Thank you. Kids are gross. Its a fact.

  11. NoRegrets- He would sleep until he heard the kids walking to school. I had time for a nap then and again in the afternoon when he took his nap. By the time dad got home, I stuffed my food down and caught another 6 hours before it was time to do it again. 24/7. I was constantly exhausted and didn't dare trust myself.
    I was fortunate, when it comes to babies, Boo was an absolute easy angel. The other three were not, even though I got much more sleep.

  12. NoRegrets- Oops! Forgot to tell you that your posts and comments often inspire me. =:]

  13. hey... your blog seems pretty interesting. I read many articles. Think I should keep in touch... :)

  14. Embarrassingly enough, my brother has a very similar story about me when I was a little girl and still had aspirations of becoming an artist.

    Wow, you actually recommend my blog here, that's so kind of you! I never got your email, but the comment has been posted. Sorry for using comment moderation - sadly, I have to in order to stop a stalker from posting things about me on my blog :(

    I was reading your blog a last week but didn't get round to leaving a comment, because I wanted to tell you that your profile picture looks exactly like my rabbit George (for a photo, see ) but I didn't want to look spammy by leaving a link to my own blog in my first comment...


  15. StArry aNgel- Welcome down the rabbit hole! I am always thrilled to have new readers. Thank you for the nice comments. I'll be hopping over to check out your blog too. BTW... love your name!

  16. Deborah- Oh no! That's funny.

    Oh yes, if I find a blog that I think is a great read, I do like to mention them. I like your format and the subject matter. It is delightful!

    A stalker! Yikes. That's no good. Several of the blogs that I read have to do that. I don't mind a bit. No problem with the link either. Always glad to have those too.

    I love rabbits and have had several over the years. We had one in particular that never understood that he was actually a rabbit. I should post about him sometime. His name was Chub Feely.

  17. I guess my oldest had an inner sculptor in her... that's one way to put a good spin on it. She pulled the same stunt. She was happily playing with it until she saw my face and then she started to cry. She jokes that this is one of those things she's going to tell her future therapist... that and us teasing her she was part moth.

  18. Chub Feely, haha, what did he think he was, a Rock and Roll artist?

    George doesn't really respond to his name, but he does wake up, perk his ears and walk up to you when you say "doggie doggie doggie" in a childish voice. Makes you wonder about his previous home... (he is a rescue bunny)