| Glamorous |
I can’t believe that an entire week has gone by since I last posted. I have so much catching up to do and I barely know where to start. In the past few weeks I have traveled half way across this province and back, completed several really great photo shoots, weathered the fallout of my child’s first official sugar high, and is it just me, or did everyone else’s kid become totally insane and suddenly refuse to eat anything but chocolate bars?
I also won $300 in free gas after winning a contest I barely remember entering. Apparently I submitted a photo and wrote a funny story about our family van. God, I drive a van. Ten years ago I would have laughed at my maternal self trying to picture that one, too.
A photo I took of one of my client's babies won an award, which I'm excited about. That client is now relishing in about a thousand dollars worth of sweet baby swag.
And this month I’m running my first official photography advertising campaign, and I’m literally swamped and drowning in work and enlisted the help of my mother to come and visit for the week.
Also, we have a very sick kid on our hands. Breathing issues. Again. I know!
Where to start? Where to start?
Maybe telling the story of my triumphant return home from my road trip is a good starting point.
Sadly, my trip was cut short. B and I were having a lazy morning catching up and gossiping: her son curled close to her breast, looking angelic under the glow of an above incandescent light while my little whirlwind devil busied himself with emptying every single jar and can from her cupboards when we heard the deep rumble of her husband’s truck pulling in the driveway echoing throughout the house signalling his return home.
“Did you guys hear about the storm on the way?”
“Storm?”
“Yeah, Winter storm.”
“You’re shitting us right?”
“No, seriously. Up to a foot of snow and severe winds are on the way right now.”
B lives in the country on a stunning 50 acres of land. While visiting, I kept glancing out of her giant picturesque window and gazing longingly into the orange and vermillion leaf-filled woods pondering growing up with a forest right outside my doorstep; a childhood filled with exploring under the sun glinted glow of a tree-topped ceiling, piling fallen trees to create secret hide-a-way forts, and when the chill of winter twists through leafless woods, a place to thread new adventures on a blanket of even white snow. Nate is growing up in a tiny fenced yard shared with a giant dog and a neon plastic slide. It’s hard not to notice the difference.
But damn, you know? I hate driving in the snow. Especially the first major snow fall of the season because even though we go through the change of seasons every single year, there are always those people who forget their brains and common sense at home and fail to slow down.
And so, to avoid winter driving conditions, I decided to leave early, and just as we pulled out of the driveway, snow had begun to fall. We arrived home to gorgeous sunny weather, narrowly escaping this scene, which B emailed me the next morning:
What we didn’t escape from, however, was that while we were gone, Samson went and got himself a severe case of separation anxiety diarrhea, and left a giant pile of shit for me in the hallway, a trail of shit in Nate’s bedroom, and another welcoming pile in the office.
And because Samson is half dog and half the size of a cow, he has enormous sized shit. Like, so enormous, I clogged the toilet cleaning up after him and narrowly missed a doggy diarrhea overflow by a fraction of a millimetre. Sighing with relief for avoiding THAT mess, I closed the lid on the toilet seat and went back to cleaning the carpets.
And all of a sudden, over the roar of the steam cleaner, I heard Nate screaming. I ran over to see what was wrong, and even though deep down I knew this was one of those moments that I could so totally tell all of his future girlfriends, I just wanted to die and go to a Heaven that did not include cleaning up shit because Nate had flushed the toilet and was standing in a stream of overflowing doggy diarrhea-filled toilet water.
Reacting, I ran to the linen closet and grabbed an arm load worth of pristine white towels to soak up the mess.
People, I now understand why my mom feels compelled to ask every time she visits why I have all white towels with a kid in the house.Labels: Comic Relief, Friends, Nate, Samson |
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Can you share your advertising campaign ideas with me? I am always curious to learn more advertising ideas.
I hope Nate is feeling better soon.
Kao gets that separation Anxiety diarrhea it is awful.
The place B lives sounds beautiful!
Congrats on the award! That is awesome!
Sorry to hear about your homecoming *gifts*!
So happy to hear that everything is going well in your new venture! Stoked for you!
I am so sorry Nate is still sick! I feel like a shit. If I had of known Jr was getting sick I would have told you not to come.
Hopefully the next time we get together illness, snowstorms, and fires leave us alone.
Wow ~ you have been busy!!
Hope that Nate is ok and hope Samson is happier now you are back home!!
Your friends place sounds and looks wonderful.
Love and hugs Tabitha XX
What a nice surprise waiting for you when you got home!!! Poor Samson and poor you cleaning up after him !
It was a shame that your visit was cut short visiting B ~ but that looks like a lot of snow!
You are so busy, but i'm glad your photography buisness is doing so well.
I hope Nate is getting better :-)
l,
Amanda x
You have white towels so you can bleach the shit out of them - literally.
This is all very nice, but where are the pics of Nate on Halloween? I NEED them!
I am very sad to hear he is having problems again. Poor little guy.
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Friday, November 07, 2008
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Kate Giovinco Photography : November 07, 2008 
