A return visit

Great Grandma on bath duty. A good picture of them - but not of our bathroom. Obviously, that's the one under renovation. I chip away at it during John's naps. It will be done in, oh, a year or so.

John has been entertaining company for the last week or so - Great Grandma W came for a visit. Obviously, it was great to see her again, and John had a good time. We hadn't realized before she came what a dull city we live in. While Mike's sister whisks her off to dinners and broadway-style shows whenever she visits, the best we could offer were the live pig races being held over the long weekend. Even then, we couldn't find out when they were, so we couldn't even do that. (On our own, we go to the movies for fun, but we haven't even done that since well before John was conceived. So, needless to say, we lead a pretty quiet life.)

However, we did get out a little, to go see Mike's sister and her fiance, Billy. We had a great home-cooked meal - John's favourite was the spinach dip served with bread cubes. He would suck the dip off, then store the bread in his cheeks, eventually spitting it out into a kleenex box. Most things he ate wouldn't stay in. I'm sure they'll be finding little cubes of carrot throughout the apartment for days to come. John had a great time following Billy around, giggling at his funny faces. By the end of the evening, we were all happy, full and smeared with banana.

We only got to see them once more before Billy had to head home to Ohio - hope you made it home safe and sound Billy! Come back soon!

Great Grandma was here over the holiday weekend, so we took her to see the fireworks. It was our first time seeing them - we usually sit on the mountain, watching them go off for Canada Day and don't bother at all for Victoria Day. However, we had company and it was John's first chance to see fireworks, so we decided to go. It was lots of fun! He kept tearing away from us to make his way over to a couple of boys with sparklers. Grandma took him over for a closer look, and one of the boys put on a little light show for him. He was also captivated with a group of teenagers behind us wearing flashing necklaces. I'm sure he would have crawled right up onto their laps if we had let him.

We took a friendly bet whether he would scream during the fireworks themselves. Mike won - for the most part, he leaned back and enjoyed the show. The really loud ones scared him a little and after a while he got tired and fussed a bit, but all in all, he seemed to enjoy himself. We'll definitely head back next year. Though next time, we'll know to take a blanket for ourselves as well. It was c-c-c-c-cold!

Thank you again for everything, Grandma W. Although the house wasn't in nearly as sorry a state as the first time she came, when John was just six weeks old, she still found plenty to do. My laundry room has never been so empty.

There's not much in other news. All that work we put into politics lately turned out to be a big waste of time, thanks to a certain cabinet minister who shall remain nameless. I don't think I belong to this party anymore. Everyone I like has left.

The strike continues. After a brief hiatus, Mike has finally returned to the picket line. No sign of negotiations, therefore no end in sight.

I'm resuming the bathroom reno, and beginning the long process of preparing John for daycare. We'll have to get him onto a predictable schedule that will have him up early enough to be fed and dressed in time to leave for work with me. No small feat, particularly because it requires that I be up early too.

We're not sure what to do about milk. We have to provide whatver milk-type pruduct he consumes - they only supply two per cent free of charge, but obviously babies need whole milk. I'm not sure if I should switch him to whole milk or formula or if I should pump and supply breastmilk. Mike suggested pumping at work and giving that to the daycare, but that seems like such a chore for a baby who is old enough to go without. Even switching to formula seems silly, because there's no advantage to it after a year, so we'll just get him used to it and have to switch to milk anyway. Milk and a balanced diet provides everything they need after a year. I'm leaning towards switching him to milk during the day at daycare, then breastfeeding morning and evening until he weans himself. That was the suggestion from the dietitian and it seems pretty logical to me. I know they say no milk until a year, but he's pretty close. And technically they can start milk at 9 months if there's no problems. They say a year just to play it safe for allergy prone babies. John eats lots of milk products and has had things made with milk, with no trouble, so I think he'll be OK. I've even started offering straight milk in his cup. He turns up his nose if I give it from a sippy cup, but this morning I gave it from a regular cup. He chugged it down like it was the best stuff around and banged his tray for more. Very successful, but very messy, which the daycare may not appreciate. We've got some time to sort it out, though, so I'm not worried.

The joys of science

This is what happens when I leave John and Mike alone together. I was busy doing a phone blitz of all our party members, when Mike decided to break out the corn starch. You know that strange goop that corn starch makes, when you mix it with just the right amount of water? Yeah, he made a big ball of that, and for some unknown reason, put it on John's head. It of course turned back into a liquid. We managed to keep it from running into John's eyes, at least. My hardwood floors were not so lucky. I guess this is what they mean by "boys will be boys."

A day at the park

Higher, Dad! Higher!

Spring has sprung, and with it, family trips to the park. We live within walking distance of one of the city's biggest parks. It has two playgrounds, an outdoor theatre, trails, flower gardens, fountains, splash pads, wading pools and lots and lots of wide open space. We've ben trying to go every second day or so, now that it's warm. Mike has decided the reason for all his tiredness is a lack of exercise. Judging from the energy he has now, he was probably right.

We let John play in the grass and eat petals under a row of flowering shade trees, while Mike puts me through all sorts of torture; soccer, badminton, frizbee. I wish I could just sit and eat petals under a shade tree too.

It's part of a new weight loss kick Mike's on, inspired by his Dad's weight loss. Actually, it's inspired by the fact that some of his Dad's "fat clothes" are skin tight on Mike. That and he happened to hop on someone's scale while we were home and was horrified by what he saw.

So, thank you, thank you, thank you, to whoever owns that scale and to Mike's Dad, for horrifying Mike into change. It's saving us a fortune in food costs.

His diet is easy - just less of everything. He's eating like a normal person now. It's a good time for him to be on a diet - I've decided to bite the bullet and start the diet I'm suposed to do to tame my alleged infertility, and help prevent the heart disease, diabetes and cancer it can supposedly cause down the road.

It's a little more complex than Mike's. It's basicly the Canada Food Guide, followed to the letter. Easier said than done, as anyone who's actually put the portion sizes into action can attest. I'm sure Bruce is nodding his head. It's basicly the diabetes prevention diet - evenly sized, evenly spaced meals, with at least three of the four food groups, starch at every meal and snack. Carbs and protiens always paired. A close watch on portion sizes. Whole grains. Lean meats. No sweets or unscheduled snacking. No binge eating. A half hour of moderate exercise every day. Sounds simple, but it actually takes some planning and a bit of getting used to. According to all the new research, the brand of infertility I have is related to a problem with how the body uses insulin. The theory is, if I keep my blood sugar stable, and get plenty of exercise, my body will be able to use the insulin better, which will allow the hormones to get back to normal, and will prevent an early death from heart problems, diabetes, etc. So they say. I figure it's worth a try. I find it makes a huge difference - it's definitely not a diet you can cheat on. I had strawberries alone as a bedtime snack one night, insead of my usual milk and toast. The sugar rush was just horrible. I got an insant headache, I felt all dizzy. Just cruddy all around. I can really feel the difference - I feel much better if I stick to it, and it's amazing how incredibly gross sweetened things taste once you've stopped eating them.

In other news, John has a new tooth!!! It's the lower, right-hand one. It just popped through on Sunday - Mike was the one to find it. I knew a tooth was on its way, but I thought it was a top one, because those gums are much more swollen. He's working hard on the other side with his teethers, so the matching tooth isn't far behind. We have to really watch our fingers around him.

He's been accepted into a daycare - the nice one. We start June 20, when I go back to work. They've agreed to be a bit flexible with the start date, with Mike on strike and all. We can postpone it further, as long as another family isn't itching for the spot. I'm pretty happy with it. We got another tour when we registered, and it's so big and bright. He wanted down, so we put him on the floor and he was all over the place. He was fascinated by the other kids and started climbing on one of the toys. I think he'll be OK there. It's so much cleaner and brighter than the others, and the baby room is relatively unprogrammed, which makes so much more sense to me. Their needs are met as they come up. They nap when they need to. They are free to play with what they want, instead of being put in a chair to "colour", like in the other place. That was just stupid. They go for a walk every day, instead of every second day like some of the others. I'm comfortable with it. Not with the price, but in terms of care, I think it's the lesser evil.

I took John to my office to see my manager a couple of weeks ago. My start date was set - June 20. I also found out that I'm no longer the editor of News4Kids, which is sad in a way. They decided they need to donate more hours to it and my boss wasn't willing to give them that much of my time and there's no way I can do that many hours in evenings and weekends and still have a family life. So, they've already started looking for someone new. I would consider applying for the editor position and resigning from my regular job, but I know they weren't a big fan of me to begin with. I worked hard to separate advertising from editorial - a definite no-no in that division. They'll need to find someone who doesn't know any better.

On the strike front, the strike lives on. Apparently, the guys are getting tired. There's a movement to push the union into allowing another vote on the "final" offer, so they can get back to work. The Quebec division voted on it separately and it passed easily. That took a lot of steam out of Ontario's sails. Things are getting nasty. Mike tagged along to a flying picket, which found a scab from the piece rate company. They trapped him in his van and yelled obscenities at him until the police arrived. Before they did, several people in the neighbourhood came out to spit and throw eggs at the van. (We live in a very union friendly town, in case you haven't guessed.) Even the police aren't in a hurry to help the scabs. They take their time getting there - a few hours in some cases. When they do, they don't do anything to the guys in Mike's company - just shoo them off. Apparently, many of the new peice rate workers have quit because of the hostility. This is a pretty stupid town to be a scab in.

Well, I had better get going. I'll try to post more often. I have a backlog of pictures to post!

As a final note, a huge congratulations to Auntie Vicki and her import, soon-to-be Uncle Billy! Yay!

Tickle, tickle! 

What's this thing on Dad's face? 

More, Dad! More! 

Mmmmm....yummy petals 

The trip in pictures

Taking the plunge in Grandma and Grandpa W's "pool." Mike's parents have a two-person air tub, so we let John go for a little swim. He got a little worried when the bubbles came on, but he seemed to like it.


The camera didn't come out as much as it should have this trip. But we did get some good ones, and some other good ones were sent by Mike's parents. A glaring omission is Mike's dad with John. I've tried and tried, but for some reason it won't let that one post - typical, eh, Bruce? I've written to find out why - hopefully they'll be able to fix it and I'll post it up at a later date - sorry.

In a word, the trip was awesome. Just what we needed. Driving with a baby wasn't as horrific as I thought. I had to spend most of the first 12 hours in the back seat with John, to keep him happy, but it wasn't so bad.

At Great-Grandma's house, he had lots of fun playing with Mac. They played fetch together and battled for the toys. Mac always won, but John put up a good fight.

The drive to our hometown the next day was pretty uneventful - John was used to the car by then and dozed most of the way. Then we arrived and he dozed some more. Like 14 hours more. We put him down for what we thought was a nap, intending to head to my parents' house to say hello, but he was out cold. Mike even tried to get him up, but it was no use. He came up the stairs with a very zonked John slumped over his shoulder, only to be sent straight back down to put the poor kid back in bed.

The visit was great. We finally got to see my parent's new shop. They've only had it, what, two years? It's absolutely beautiful. Right out of downtown Oakville. We got to see Mike's dad, the new poster child for Herbal Magic. They should pay him a royalty every time he leaves his house - he's a walking ad for them. What was it - 70 pounds in six months?

It was definitely good to be home. It was definitely too short a visit, but it was good. In a way, it felt like we had never been away.

The trip back down was interesting. We kept John awake for hours past his morning naptime, hoping it would get him to sleep most the way to great-grandma's house. It was a dismall failure. He was awake, overtired and cranky the whole time. He finally fell asleep about half an hour from her house. When we got there, the plan was to slip him straight back to bed, but our wide-eyed, giggly guy had other plans. So much for that.

The leg home was interesting. Mike wanted to take a new route, so we went through the US. Freeway the whole way, he says. We'll make great time, he says. Sixteen hours later, we arrived home. I think our downfall was the logging road we took to get to the border in the first place. We were the only car - everyone else had big 4x4 trucks. That should have been a hint. We spent what felt like hours dodgeing giant potholes, often without success. I'm surprised our car has lived to tell the tale.

Oh, running out of gas on the freeway didn't help. I was nagging him to stop for gas, so of course he didn't. I was freaking - I've seen American news. I know what happens to women left alone by the side of the road down there. I had visions of John and I being found cut into pieces, scattered across the state. Thankfully, by the car's last gasp, we were on an exit ramp within sight of a gas station. Rather than walk, Mike hopped out and pushed to the intersection. While we were stopped at the red, a transport driver in the next lane rolled down his window and they got to talking. He put his truck in park and helped Mike push the rest of the way, which was really nice of him.

We were a little nervous about crossing the borders, but it was a breeze. I think we can thank John for that. We were loaded to the roof with bags and blankets. We could have had millions in drugs, guns, bombs, fruit, you name it. They waved us through in both directions. Mike said if he ever wants to smuggle, he's bringing John and I along.

Well, I had better get going. Mike wants to take John and I to the park to play badminton this afternoon, but that's a whole other post.

The looooong trip home - he dozed a good chunk of the way, thank goodness. 

John with Mac, both trying to get a piece of a rubber ball. 

John in my old rocking chair - or rather, trying to get OUT of my old rocking chair 

Staking his claim on a family heirloom 

A Tupperware party at Gram and Gramps P's house. By dad taught him to bang things with the spoon. Thanks, Dad. 

Grandpa P 

John checking out Grandma and Grandpa P 

John with Great grandma W 

John with Grandma W and Bear, recovering from a coffee table scare. 

Four generations! - John with Dad, Grandma W and Great Grandma E 

Roadtrip 2 - the main event

John takes his turn at the wheel

We've been back a couple of days now, but it has taken time to get settled back in.

We took John on the long voyage home - by car. Twenty hours of driving each way at the best of times. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but hopefully next time we'll be able to fly.

It was great to finally go home and visit our families again. John had lots of fun playing with Mac and exploring everyone's kitchen cupbourds. He took the whole thing in stride, but he was glad to get back home. He was pretty wired when he woke up in his own bed. It took an hour to settle him down, but then he slept through that night, all the next day and the following night, waking up just for food. He's finally starting to come right today.

I have more pictures and more to update, but it's getting late here. I just wanted to throw up a photo so everyone knows we're still here and haven't forgotten to update. I'll post up more over the next few days. Bruce - send me your photos so I can post them too!

Roadtrip!

John, Mike and I went for a drive in the country, to help Mike cheer up about not getting the job he applied for. John wasn't having any fun at all, so we decided to face his seat forward partway through the trip. Bare feet was John's idea - he started out with socks, but pulled them off. Just as well - it was really warm.

Taking a food, change and wiggle break in a farmer's field.  

The home stretch.

Well, I can't say country drives are a fun with a baby. There were many breaks in farmer's fields.

It didn't help that it was hot. Well, hot for John and I. They said it was about 20, which is hot enough. The tail end of my pregnancy was an eternal hot flash. I remember those last couple of weeks at work, nearly passing out from the heat, even though I worked in an air conditioned office. For some reasons, those hormones haven't fully snapped back to normal, so I'm still always warm. It's been awesome for the winter - we've saved a bundle in gas costs. I'm dreading summer though - especially the hot, muggy summers we have down here. John prefers the cold as well.

To beat the heat, we opened all the windows, which John loved. Whenever we peeked back, he had the wind blowing though his hair and a big smile on his face. He loves it when we blow on his face, so this was just a big version of that game to him.

He did get grumpy now and then - especially once he started to get tired. I didn't bring nearly enough toys to rotate. By the end I was passing back water bottles and pens for him to play with. But I guess all in all, driving with John was tolerable.

The trip was meant to cheer Mike up, which it did, but it morphed into a dress rehearsal of sorts. It looks like we're coming home after all! The plan is to leave Thursday, and be home by the end of the month, as long as all the relations are OK with us bunking in. The union bosses have given their blessing. I still want to fly, but the driving seems to be a deal breaker for Mike. Once we're back at work, there won't be another chance, probably until next winter, so I caved. Hopefully, it won't be as big a nightmare as I think it's going to be. Travelling 2,000 KM with a baby - each way. Why does he want to do this?!

Anyway. Now I just need to plan the logistics of this. Do you guys still have lots of snow? If so I'll just leave the stroller at home. We have a portable crib, and my parents have a high chair, so all that's taken care of. Not sure how baby food will work on the road. I guess I'll get some of the jarred stuff? Maybe we can get a little cooler for it. Who knows. At least I don't have to worry about bottles! The house and cats will be fine - Adrian will still be here to keep the kibble flowing.

Holy moly. This is going to be a challenge! Though it will be nice to come home for a visit. We'll give you all a call to plan out the details.

John is doing great. He's been figuring stuff out lately, which is fun to watch. He can open and close doors now - probably from watching the cats do it, becuse he uses the same technique as them. It has brought a whole new dimension to peek-a-boo. I'll be cooking dinner, and he'll sit in the kitchen doorway. If I look down at him, he'll close the door really quick, with him on the other side. He giggles away on the other side, then slowly opens it and peeks around. If I'm still watching, he'll squeal and hide behind the door again. It's pretty funny. He plays peek-a-boo with Mike a lot, too. We'll be in bed and he'll pull a blanket over Mike's face, then pull it back down, then back up, and down, giggling the whole time. He's a master of the light switch - he's figured that one out. He's working on the bathroom taps - they're lever style. He's watched me use them a million times and now he's trying to turn the water on and off himself. Hasn't managed it yet, but he's a real hundfull while I brush my teeth now, because he's constantly lunging for the faucet. That and flushing the toilet. If I need to use the washroom, I'll often take him with me and let him play in the tub, rather than let him roam unsupervised, or abandon him in his crib. When I'm done, he always tries to flush for me, but he's not strong enough to do it yet. He likes to watch the water swirl around. Totally mesmerized by that. He wants to help me cook too, but I don't know how to help him feel a part of that. The ECE teacher at the Early Years Centre said to give him a plastic tub and spoon and let him mimic, but he knows it's not real - he wants to help with the real thing.

In other news, the strike lives on...and on...and on... The guys just rejected the company's "final offer." It was actually the first offer, but they claim they won't budge. The union thinks it's trash and won't budge either. So, it's going to be a looooong strike. One of the key reasons why Mike wants to head up - there's no chance of going back to work anytime soon. He thinks the strike is the reason he lost the job, as well. At least that's what he hopes - the plan is to apply again for future openings, so if he didn't get the job because of him, not the fact that he's on strike, then it could make the plan impossible.

In the meantime, the drywall has been abandoned. Typical. It will stay half finished until the next job opening, when he slips into panic mode to get it all done. I'm determined not to have it that way. The only stressor was the house. It was a wake-up call that we need to start now, so that doesn't happen when the time to sell comes - which might come sooner than we think, if this strike goes too long. There's lots we can do that costs little, or nothing, but will make a huge difference. My first pet project is the upstairs bathroom. We discovered that the wainscotting on the bottom is real wood, but has been painted so many times, it looks like cheap panelling and there are huge patches where it's chipping and flaking. The paint is so thick, there's no covering that up with new paint - you can see very clearly where the paint chipped away. There's about 15 layers of paint, at least, so I'm scraping it all down to get the grooves back. It looks so much better! Once it's re-painted, it'll look brand new. Wainscotting is such a trendy look for bathrooms right now, it's worth the effort to fix it. It's neat to see all the different colours. A lot of beige, tan, sage, dusty rose. Every room in this house hs been pink at one time or another - I really hope not all at the same time! I had a peek under the floor as well. Those of you who've seen it know we have two different types of flooring down. One half of the room is lino - the other is peel 'n stick tile. I can't get under the lino yet, but the other side has four layers of lino, all installed one on top of another! That's just what I can see from peeling back a corner - there may be even more, each one uglier than the last. It's such a small room, it won't be that much to replace the floor when the time comes - we worked out we'd need 56 12-by-12 tiles, if we went with tiles. We don't now how to get flooring around the tub and radiator feet, though. I guess they have to come out while it goes down, but Mike isn't keen on anything that requires a lot of lifting.

Anyway, I had better go. I have lots of laundry and packing and stuff to do.

The loooong wait continues

We're still waiting to hear about that job. With every hour, it's looking more and more bleak.

Mike is still holding out some hope, though. Every other time he's been offered a job by these guys, it's been a Thursday or Friday call, to report to work on Monday morning. But there was supposed to be a whole other step - the reference check. We think, either he's lost the job and they're notifying the losers last, just in case the winners decline, or they just pulled up his employee file and called his managers as references. Depending on who they talked to, that could be a very bad thing.

He thinks the strike might compliate things - that they might be worried about the union reaction to hiring a picketer.

Sigh. And I was just starting to get excited about this. But hey, if he doesn't get it, he can always try again later - jobs do come up now and then, I'm sure. Until then, we'll just return to life like normal. And hey - we have drywall, so we're ending up ahead either way!

The long wait...

Fast asleep in his portable crib, while Mike hangs drywall upstairs.

Haven't heard anything more about the job. However, it does start next Monday, so we're expecting a call today or tomorrow. He had the interview, which he felt didn't go terribly well. It was one of those horrible "Tell me a specific example of....how you boosted the team...improved your company...etc."It caught him a little off guard. The second round is a reference check, so we're just waiting for them to call for his references. We've decided if he gets it, he's going to take it.

Drywall is going up in the back room upstairs. It looks really nice - even considering the fact that Mike doesn't seem to know what he's doing. They say you marry a man who reminds you of your Dad, but that's certainly not the case with Mike's handyman skills. I've lost count of the number of times in the last couple days I've said "my Dad does it this way..." He doesn't seem to appreciate the help, though.

John's OK. The drywall was hard on him. He had to sleep in a different bed, in a different room, away from the noise. For such a creature of habit, it was hard. Not to mention the many times I couldn't respond to his cries right away, because I was in the middle of carrying drywall, or something.

The doc appointment went well. John's growing perfectly. He's 76 cm long and roughly 22 pounds, buck naked. Still on the top end of the spectrum, so all is well.

He checked John's ears for me, but they're fine. He figured he's just got a touch of a cold - no big deal.

He gave him a shot. Health Canada just made it free. I think he said it was for pneumonia. (No idea if I spelled that right - this program has no spell-check - I'm sure you've noticed.) He goes back for a booster in two months. Doc West said he probably didn't need it, because he's nearly out of the danger period when illnesses can kill him, but he gave it to him anyway, just because he can.

John is such a character. Doc West was running really late - very unlike him. His is the only clinic I know that runs on time. I had to amuse John in the examination room, so I let him explore the floor. He kept crawling up to the door, peering around the edge to look at all the people in the waiting room down the hall. Eventually they noticed him and started chucking. He pulled back and snickered, then did it again - slowly peering around the corner, until they laughed. After a few times, he got really brave. He flashed me a look, then scooted full throttle across the hall to the nurse's station, to the delight of his fans. (He has such a thing for nurses. In a room full of women, where only one is a nurse, he goes for the nurse every time - even nurses he's never met before. It's kind of creepy.) His fans were all very disappointed every time I pulled him back into the room, but he's so small and the docs really fly down that hall - I had visions of him getting kicked or stepped on. I imagine it would have been pretty funny to see from the waiting room - a baby's eyes peering around the corner, then him streaking across the hall, wearing nothing but a diaper, to the nurse's station. Then, the whole place got to see him buck naked, as I scooted from the scale back to the room. I was holding him out at arms length, hoping he wouldn't pee on me. The waiting room got a real kick out of that too. He was quite the little celebrity by the time we left.

I've been taking John out to the yard bit by bit. I discovered why he didn't crawl in the grass last time - he doesn't like how it feels on his hands. He'd put his hands down, then recoil as soon as he touched the blades. I was so cute! He eventually got over it, though, and started booting around the yard, to the horror of the cats. Until now, the yard has been their domain. Crawling on the grass brings a whole new set of perils. I looked away from him for a second to pet one of the cats; when I looked back, he had a huge clump of grass sticking out of his mouth. I pulled it out and washed him up as much as possible, but he still drooled mud for the next hour. That isn't the worst thing I've found in his mouth. Yesterday, he was sitting on the floor, with this really strange expression on his face. Then he opened his mouth and this huge glob of plaster fell out - probably tracked down from upstairs.

On the strike front, the strike lives on. The guys were advised to vote no on the last offer, so that's probably what they did. Supposedly there's a new offer out now, which they should be voting on soon.

For all you curling fans - what the heck was with the worlds this year! They squeaked into the finals, only because of some fluke misses by the other teams, then creamed Scotland in the final. I don't get it - but at least it wasn't boring!

Happy birthday to Mike!

Mike is another year older today, though the run of sleepless nights he's had lately has aged him much more than that.

As some of you know, he applied for a new job on a bit of a whim. Getting it and accepting it would be a fairly momentous change, but we're unsure if it would be for the better or the worse. We've been endlessly debating the pros and cons, but it's an agonizing decision, because it's so balanced either way.

He has a job interview this afternoon. He had a short pre-interview on Tuesday, which he felt went very well. Now, if he gets the job, we're not sure if it would be a good idea to take it. It's so hard to tell the difference between cold feet and a genuinely bad decision. He's thinking it may come up again next year, giving him more time to emotionally prepare for the shift, but he's worried turning it down right now will hurt his chances of being accepted in the future. Or, he could just as easily be rejected and we're here agonizing over nothing, which, knowing us, is exactly how it will play out.

Sigh.

On the strike front, a new contract has been drawn up. They're voting on it this afternoon. It's not good for guys like Mike. Not only will he get no pay raise at all - only the guys at the very top of the pay grid will get a raise, and a nice one at that - but they've closed the loophole which allowed Mike to work overtime through the slow winter season, while permenant guys were capped at 20 hours a week. That means the part-timers will be scheduled for full-time before the temps are even offered work, which probably means lots of temps being laid off in the fall. That would probably include Mike. Gotta love the union - screw over the young guys to get a settlement. I just have to note, most of the guys who will benefit from this contract didn't even turn up on the picket line. Mike, who will probably lose his job over it, has been there nearly every day. So much for "solidarity." We'll know in a few days how everyone voted.

Either way, the new piece rate company is up, running, and taking away work Mike and his co-workers would normally do. They cost the company less in labour, so there's no reason to think they'll vanish after the strike, which just raises the chances for layoffs. In the long run, that new company may cost the company more; those guys have to buy their own tools and wire, and are paid per job, so I can't see how they wouldn't skimp on materials and quality, unless mistakes are taken off their pay, which would just be cruel. It's all very scary. Maybe even scary enough to be a point in the new job's favour, if he gets it.

Adulthood blows. Too many big decisions, with big consequences. Does he stay with the status quo and hope for the best, or take a huge leap of faith not knowing if it'll end up better or worse? It's hard to know.

John is doing OK. I don't think he's feeling well. He had a runny nose yesterday and he's been clawing at his ears; one of them does look a little red inside. It's hard to tell - he doesn't have a fever, but he has been grumpy the last couple days. I assumed it was teething - he's been biting a lot lately. He bit my hand so hard the other day he broke skin, and when he's got a teether, he bites down really hard with the gums just beside his teeth. He's loving this pink rubber octopus Mike's parents sent, because the legs are the perfect shape for reaching those gums. Rubber-grip, retractable pens are even better, but people look at me like I'm a terrible mom when he's chomping on one of those. In private, they're a life-saver - just never try to take one away from him. He flies into a full blown tantrum.

Thankfully, he already has a check-up scheduled for tomorrow morning (his nine-month birthday - yay!) I'm going to ask the Doc to take a peek in those ears, just in case. Not a very good time for an appointment otherwise - John is looking a little rough. He has a cut on his ear, from some fall or other. It got a little infected, so it's all red and bruised. Polysporin has been helping, but he keeps wiping it off with all his clawing of ears. His knees are bruised from crawling and he's got a rash, probably caused by the runs, which is probably caused by the cold he seems to have. All in all, with all his cuts, bruises and the rash, he looks almost abused. Obviously, he's not. I just hope the doc doesn't think anything is up. Bruised knees are OK for a crawling baby, right?

He spent a couple of hours with sitters last night - "auntie" Laura and "grandma" Joan, whom he hadn't seen since Christmas. I was nervous, because he is a little strange around people now. Some days he's fine with people - other days he burries his face in my chest to escape them. We haven't actually left him alone with anybody since my parents were here, and they were hardly strangers by then, so we had no idea how he'd react. But he was fine! They said he fussed a bit for the first few minutes, but they took him to the park to play on the swings, and he settled right down and had lots of fun. When we went to pick him up, he was laughing and having a great time! That makes me feel a lot better about going back to work - he'll be OK without me. He can drink from a sippy cup now too! It only took him about two weeks of regular daily use to piece it together. I started by just sticking it in his mouth and pouring in water. After a couple of days, he started opening up for it. Then asking for it (with grunts and gestures - he's so much like Mike.) Then he started helping me hold it. Then one fine day he grabbed it from me and chugged back all by himself! When he put it down, he had a huge smile on his face! Now he won't let me help him - he's a big boy now, he doesn't want my help!

I hear him waking up - gotta go! Wish Mike luck with, well, everything. Votes, interviews, sound sleep; you name it, he needs luck for it.

Spring has come...and gone

The first snowsuit-free day of the year! John and I headed off to the park after strike duty. I was going to let him go nuts on the open field, or see if he's big enough for a baby swing yet. Sorry about the missing top of head - camera slipped.

Awwww...

He didn't even make it to the park. Along the way, we had to stop for a train passing through town (John's first train!) I guess he found the rhythm soothing. By the time the last car passed, he was out. (That's the jacket you sent, mom and dad - it's so cute!)

So, that was our spring. Today, the sky is black, the air is cold and there's thunder, lightening and snow. I'm glad I got him out for a long walk on the first day warm and sunny enough for just a jacket - no thick snowsuit or piles of blankets - even if he did sleep through most of it. He had a good time. He's been OK with the stroller facing forward for a while now - he knows where I am, and peers around frequently to make sure I'm still there. A few months ago he would have screamed his head off to be facing away from me. But now he looooves facing forward - he sits right up and looks all around. He loves to watch people who are walking dogs.

I let him sit in the yard while I did some yard work the other day. He had a blast! He thought the rake moving around was hilarious. He ran his fingers through the grass and ate a leaf - it didn't taste very good. I tried to convince him to crawl, but he wasn't interested - he just wanted to sit and watch me work.

Mike took a break from the strike yesterday and today. He may take tomorrow off too. World curling is on, after all. Curling is the only time Mike yells at the TV. He's a little irritated at Ferby right now - they actually lost to Germany.

On the strike front, negotiations will be resuming tomorrow with a provincially appointed mediator. It's always good news when negotiations are underway - I really hope he or she can help.