Still touring....Salt Spring Island

Well, the inevitable happened. I've been told it happens to every baby....he fell off the bed in the hotel. I've heard stories of falling off beds, change tables, down stairs while strapped into a stroller, but it still didn't stop my breath from being taken away as I saw his little face as he went down.

We are now in week two of the tour, on Salt Spring Island in the beautiful Salt Spring Inn. Pablo was playing with my copy of the Dance Current magazine and got excited while I brushed my teeth at the sink next to him, watching him in the mirror. In the blink of an eye, over he went. I caught him before he made complete impact with the floor. My stomach and intestines have not settled, even though he cried for just a few minutes and has been in a good mood for most of the rest of the day. I can't believe it happened. He fell. I could not stop it. I'm not sure I'm prepared for what is going to happen for the rest of my life with Pablo.

I refuse to believe I'm a terrible parent...I've heard too many stories about babies falling, especially once they figure out how to crawl, roll over, toddle etc....and you can't stop them from making mistakes. They need to faceplant every once in a while in order to figure out how to do things themselves. But I have a horrible bloody imagination and can see in almost every situation how things could become fatal or gruesomely sad. I say it's a genetic flaw, or too many teenage days spent reading and writing morose poetry. Makes no difference now as the vivid images or possible tragedies creep in.

On another note entirely, our opening on Salt Spring Island was mind-blowing. The audience was so receptive. A standing ovation! Today we have struck a good balance, Dennes and I. I played with Pablo early in the morning while Dennes did some work back east for his "real job" -- i.e. not his "nanny job". We lunched together between sessions of rehearsal in the theatre and napped together between rehearsal and opening. We have traded off on rounds of drinks in the hotel bar. I had round one, Dennes round two. I type this as Pablo stirs in the bed (the scene of this morning's accident!) and falls back to sleep. I can hear the cast having a good time downstairs and buoyed by my glass of wine, I hope that we are starting to figure this out: how to be a family with a performer who may indeed tour again.

I wish with all my heart that I had enough work so that Dennes could just follow his wishes for work and time with Pablo. But today was a beautiful, drizzling day that feels like we are on the cusp of discovering a soft and gentle road through this.

I was feeling that I was screwing up on all fronts, letting everyone down, or at least stressing them out. I try very hard to sort things out myself, but self-sufficient and not bother anyone with my nervousnesses or questions. But I am learning that trying to be stoic often leads me to be completely wild and quivering.

Tomorrow a day with baby and Dennes, perhaps some mussels and chevre and good coffee.


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