fun in the sun!

It was 15 degrees and sunny yesterday, so the kids and I said to heck with housework, and spent the day in the back yard. We had lots of fun! This is a self-portrait by John.

John on his slide. Always going against the flow.

John and his Tonka dump truck. It was used to tote leaves for most of the afternoon.

John snapped this photo of Joan. I think he did a good job.

Who's a happy baby-waby...

I'm a happy baby-waby!

Not sure what this look means, but it's still cute!

What good is spring without a giant pile of soggy, semi-composted leaves to roll around in?

And to cap off the day, we came in to a package from my parents waiting on the doorstep.Thank you! The clothes are great, and John LOVES the trucks! He even took them to bed with him last night. They got to sleep on the pillow.

It was a fun day. Even John agrees. When I put him to bed last night, he stroked my cheek and whispered "I had good day, mommy. I had fun leaves."

I have a rare few minutes for more or less just me, so I'm going to go enjoy it. Jer went to Ikea to buy blinds, Mike's working on math at school, John was so pooped from the excitement of moving day that he's asleep on the dining room floor, so it's just Joan and I, and she's happy to just snuggle in on my lap. Hope you all enjoy the pictures. Yay spring!

Joan smiling

Well, I only managed to get one cruddy, washed-out photo of Joan smiling, before John saw the flash and zoomed to the scene. But a smile's a smile! I'll try to get a better one soon. I'll have to find a distraction for John. Not even cartoons can keep him from a camera, so I'll have to find something really good. She's going to look at her baby pictures one day and wonder why John is in every one.

Kids are doing well. Joan's neurology appointment is on Tuesday, so keep those fingers crossed.

A HUGE thanks to Mike's grandma for the clothes! She was down to two things that sorta fit, so it's nice to have a few extra sleepers when she's having a particularly poopy day. I had to dress her in her snowsuit one day, so she wouldn't get cold waiting for the laundry to dry. John won't put on the slippers yet, but he likes to look at them. They have an honoured place in his dump truck.

Jer moves in tomorrow. He'll be here any minute to get stuff in his room ready. Place is a major disaster area right now, because I've been busy with association stuff the last two days. But I should be able to have it more or less clean before his friends get here tomorrow morning. It's amazing how fast the house degrades into chaos, without constant tidying.

I guess the big news this week is with Mike. He's playing with the idea of going back to school full-time in September. He had a look at what yet needs to be done, and he had a whack of courses that must be done in the first term, when his work is busiest, so part-time would be prett impossible. I suggested he look into his company policy of leaves of absence, and take a term off work. That option is still on the table. We also went to the OSAP site, and plugged in our info to the calculator. He can get I think $12,000-$14,000 per year, and all but $7,000 is in the form of grants, because of the kids. It's less to live on than a paycheque, but we think it's doable. Going full-time also opens doors to other funding possibilities, because we'll be classed as low-income. We may be able to get a subsidized daycare spot from the city, which would make our daycare virtually free, but we won't know until we have a bunch of forms together. He actually has to get the ball rolling, and apply to school and OSAP before we can find out if we'd qualify. If he can keep his marks up, he may also qualify for a bursary from his school. It has tax implications, too. Our child tax credit will become bigger, and we'll probably qualify for the GST rebate. I think we could muddle through. It would be two lean years, but then it would be done. The alternative is two years of part-time, including a one term leave of absence either this september or next, and one final year of full-time, to get his degree. He's torn on which way to go. I favour the just-get-it-done scenario, but we need to really look at the numbers before we jump in. We've talked about different ways to use the house to our advantage. We have to renew in June, and I think our broker can do something to help.Maybe stretch the term out. Mike hates that idea, though. He wants as much going on principle as possible, to get as big a lump as possible when we sell, likely in 3-4 years. We also talked about renting it out as a house, for the price of our mortgage, then renting some hole in the wall near school to cut our living costs, while still hanging on to the house. Obviosly not an option for this year. But I may even be able to get a job at one of our niagara papers. It could work out well, if we chose the right tenants, though it would count as income, which would mess up OSAP. It's hard to know what to do. It's going to take a big leap of faith, no matter what we do. But he really, really needs to get his degree. There's no future in Bell. One of the other contracting companies was just dissolved, because the union voted against a massive pay cut. All those guys are losing their good-paying jobs, and frankly, that's the future for Mike's company, too. The telecommunications industry is changing from copper to fibre optics. He said it will require a college diploma to do his job after things switch over. It will be done by new companies, and his will be phased out and shut down. It's not a stable future. He'll be in his late 30's or early 40's, out of a job, and trained in an obsolete technology. Either way he's looking at retraining, so why not retrain for what he actually wants to do?

Anyway, we have a bit of time to decide what to do. But in the meantime, he's still planning to take one summer course, investigate a leave of absence, and also get the ball rolling on full-time and OSAP, to keep his options open come September.

What do you guys think?

Anyway - better go clean!

truck stop

I stumble across strange scenes like this more and more these days. This is picture of John's trucks, snacking on granola bars in the den.

Two peas in a pod

Joan and John, hangin' on the couch. It was meant to be a Joan photo-shoot, but as soon as John saw the camera appear, he was stuck to her like glue. As I recall, he was explaining to her that she had to say "cheese". He's with his new favourite toy - dad's hammer - much to the horror of our walls.


This is a portrait of Joan, chillin' on the couch. John took this picture (with a little aiming help from Dad)

Things here are good. Mike's parents were just for a visit, and took John out every day, including to the aviary at Niagara Falls. I've been treated to many excited, arm-waving ramblings about birds and "big fishies". There's some talk of John summering in the north, but no details as of yet.

One exciting thing - Joan rolled over this morning! Yay! Only half way, from her back to her side, but still pretty exciting. As I recall from John, the other half is tough, because that pesky arm gets in the way. But it was neat to watch - it took her a couple minutes, but she had a big grin on her face the whole time, and looked so pleased when she finally got herself up. It's a new era, though. I can't leave her on the couch to grab a diaper anymore. Time to set up the playpen downstairs I think! It has a basinet, so it's a safe place to leave her, now that she's trying to get some mobility.

And now, a message from John:

gt6tttppppp[o,,,,,,,,,,,,,nn5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555 5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555111111111111111jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjk
,,

Just a cool aside - just tested something that Mike's parents said. Partway through, I asked John to press the 5 button. Neat, eh? Though, I asked him to press the 7, and he pressed 1, but still. He went straight for the 5.

new weight

I had to delay Joan's well-baby to yesterday - Mike needed the car for school last Thursday.

Updated weight is 16 pounds, 3 ounces, at two months and a week old. Sorry - didn't get the updated length, but I'm sure she's longer too. She's pretty much doubled her weight - something that typically happens by four months, so she's growing very fast. Doc says she's "growing beautifully," so it's all good. Not sure what we're going to do about car seats. Looks like we might have to buy a second one - John can't move to a booster until he's 40 pounds, but she needs a bigger seat once she hits 20-22 pounds. I was hoping he'd hit 40 when she hit 20, but I have a feeling she'll beat him.

She got shots this time, poor kid. She just looked shocked with the first one, but she really howled with the second, and was out of sorts for the rest of the day.

She wouldn't look into his little light this time. I mentioned what happened at the specialist, and all the tests she has coming up. He asked if we're getting eye contact, and I said yes. She's much better now. She even tries to initiate eye contact from us, and if we smile, she smiles too, without much effort or even funny voices. She seems to giggle at nothing at all though - she'll just be staring off and start to giggle - but I think I remember John doing that, too, so I'm sure it's nothing. And I'm pretty sure her ears are fine - if she's crying in her cradle, she calms down when she hears me talking to her, even before I'm anywhere near her.

He told me the actual name of the type of murmur she has, but it was an awfully long name. It had a couple of P words in it, but that's all I can remember. He said basically, it means it's one she should be able to outgrow, which is what the pediatrician said, too. I'm sure everything will work out fine. Her pregnancy got off to a rocky start, too, but it all worked out in the end.

Joan's appointment

This picture was taken during summer in Washington. He's glaring at me because I dared to take a bite out of the ice cream bar he'd just stolen from me. (He didn't like the one he'd chosen for himself, so he took mine instead.)

I thought we were due for a John picture. Poor guy is feeling a bit cast aside these days. He keeps telling us he's a baby, in a ploy for more attention. If we point out that he's a big boy, he screams "No! I liddle!" The other day, Joan was upset, but not hungry, so I was letting her suck on a finger to calm down. John saw that, sat right down beside her, and started knawing on another finger on the same hand. It was quite a sight. When I change the baby, he wants to be changed too. When I bath the baby, he wants a bath too. Thankfully, he hasn't started breastfeeding again, too, though I was a little nervous at the beginning. When he saw me feed her for the first time, he knew exactly what was going on. "Baby drink milk?" he asked. He asked to try it too, and all the books I've read said to say yes. Chances are, they have no interest in breastfeeding - they just want to know it's not off limits. If it's put off limits, it will become a battle. So I said yes, and he kind of mimed breastfeeding, without even touching me at all, smacked his lips, said "yummy milk", toddled off, and it hasn't come up again since. Well, there was once more. I had just finished feeding Joan. He came in with a glass, which he held up to my chest, as though I was some sort of soda dispenser. "Milk?" he asked. Mike thought he wanted the real deal, and figured I should pump a little for him. Well, I wasn't heading down THAT road without some resistance, so I filled his glass with cow milk, and that was the end of it. He was just thirsty.

On the topic of John, he's discovered that it's fun to be "lost". He did this first at Canadian Tire just before Christmas. We needed a rope to buy a tree. We'd picked one out, and turned to go, and John was gone! But I could hear him in the next isle saying "I lost! I lost!" I turned the corner and found him with a huge grin on his face, holding hands with a very stressed-looking white-haired gentleman. That guy sure looked happy to see me!

He did it AGAIN a couple of weeks ago. I guess I've been a bit blue lately, so Mike took us to Ikea to cheer me up. (Who doesn't love a trip to Ikea!?) He even bought me a laundry hamper! Woohoo! (Sometimes I think maybe I'm TOO easy to please.)

Anyway, we were wandering through linens when John bolted off. We weren't too worried - he always seems to know where we are, and he never wanders far. So Mike sauntered off to bring him back. He came back a minute later, white-faced, without John. I've never been so afraid in my life! It's a huge store, with lots of people jostling about, with lots of shortcuts and nooks and crannies. He could have been anywhere! He could have been abducted! Mike told me to stay put, in case he came back, and took off to find John. But not wanting to do nothing, I poked my head through one of the short-cuts, and there was John, leading a woman straight to linens. She had found him looking around alone, so took his hand and asked where mommy was. He knew exactly where he was - pointed straight to where I was and started leading her there. We converged halfway. I thanked her profusely, and said a little thanks that another mom found him, and not some sicko pervert. I'm very glad he has a good sense of direction, but he needs a better sense of danger!

On to Joan's appointment. It wasn't fun. There might be something wrong with her brain. But don't fret. Everyone just take a deep breath. The vomit thing is fine, and she's going to monitor the murmur until she's six months before ordering any tests. She said chances are, she'll outgrow it once her heart valves and arteries become stronger, typically by six months.

However, she asked about her development. I mentioned that we don't get much eye contact from her. I said she kind of looks through us when she looks at us, and doesn't make much eye contact at all. She asked about smiling. I said she smiles, but not socially. She just smiles at things. I honestly couldn't remember what John did at that age, but it seemed a little odd to me. So the doc did a few little tests, and she failed most of them. She got no response from a loud noise, no eye contact, no focus on a flashing light and no smile in response to a smile. So now, she's headed for testing at Mac. I think the appointment is March 20. They'll test how her brain reacts to visual and audible stimulation. She said it could just be developmental - the milestone is two months for a lot of these things, and she was only six weeks at the time. She said she's not blind or deaf, so don't worry about that. But she said it could also be a delay in the brain, or trouble processing information. Autism was bouncing around in my head, but no-one said the A word out loud. She asked if I did drugs. She asked if I was depressed.

It was an extremely stressful appointment, but I think things are looking better. I thought about what she said about depression. It's a very strong word, so I wouldn't use it to describe me at all, but it's definitely been harder to shake the baby blues this time. But it's not because of her - she's great - it's everything else, and I think I'm justified in being blue, so I don't think it counts. But one of the problems with being blue is not smiling enough at the baby, and that delays their social development, and I know I haven't been smiling much at all lately. And we've been trying to still give lots of attention to John, and it takes a lot more work to keep the house tidy the second time aound, so maybe she just wasn't getting enough play time or attention. We've been making sure she's fed and dry and rested, but she needs to play, too. So we've been working really hard with Joan, with lots of face time and smiles, and she's getting much, much better. She's still pretty distractable, but we can get eye contact, and she'll lock on my face and follow it around. She likes to watch John now. She smiles at us now too, if we smile enough and talk in funny voices. She even kind of giggles sometimes. She coos now, too, so language development is right on track. Every day, she gets more and more social. Maybe it would have happened anyway, like the doc said, but more attention never hurt anybody. Well, except for John, who now wants to be a baby, so he can get more attention for himself. I can't win! So hopefully, she's completely normal. Everyone keep your fingers crossed! And if something actually is wrong, we'll cross that bridge then.

Oh, and for those who are keeping track, Joan was 14.7 pounds and 24 inches long at the appointment, which was last week. She has her regular well-baby tomorrow, so I'll post her official 2-month weight then.

Another quick note

This picture was taken a couple of weeks ago. She doesn't even fit that sleeper anymore. She doesn't have hair anymore either - it all got worn away, just like John's did. She just has a few tufts at the nape of her neck left. So the "guess that hair colour" game is on hold.

Things here are OK. Nothing really exciting to report. The Mac study was interesting. The researcher played a word game with John. He did ok, I guess. He was shown pictures in the 2-6 age category, but didn't know what a feather was, and couldn't pick out the man who was painting, and couldn't tell a cow from a goat and a horse, but he generally did OK, I think. It was largely a questionaire for me and mike, and they'll get progressively more complex as the study goes on. For Joan, they took a video of me interacting with her. But she was a bit fussy, so it was 10 minutes of me rubbibg her back, but the lady said that's useful to the study, too. They took a video of me doing my questionaire while I held Joan, which was a little strange, but they're the scientists. It's being done by the psychology department, obviously.

Joan's pediatric appointment is next Tuesday. The projectile vomit thing has definitely slowed down. She's still a big spitter, but not with any real force behind it. I was telling my mom that I'm worried it's a milk thing. I was drinking a lot of milk when she was really bad. Mike made fun of me, because I was going through a gallon every couple of days. I havn't been drinking much at all the last couple weeks, and she's much better. Hopefully, it's just a coincidence. I've met women who've had to give up milk while they breastfed, and I've always thought it was sad. I'd do it if I had to, but I wouldn't be happy about it.

We got a huge dump of snow last night. We just got the edge of a massive storm, but we got a ton of lake effect snow. Many of the cars on the street were burried right up to the hoods, because it was drifting as well. Mike managed to get out, though, because it was just fluffy snow. His school is the only one in the entire region open today, so he had to go. But he's not impressed. Even Mac is closed today. He said if people had actually gone to work today, the roads would have been very dangerous. But as it turned out, most people have taken a collective day off, so he had the highway to himself.

It's actually helped to keep the house very warm. The windows are caked in snow, so it's filled in all the cracks and gaps. No drafts today!

Jer is officially moving in April 1. He's taking John's room. When John starts asking for a room of his own, that arrangement will need to be revisited. But I guess it's fine for starters. We thought about giving him the attic, but that's where our TV is, and we think, in terms of sanity, it needs to stay there. That's where people go to escape in this household, because it's so far removed from the bustle of the main floor, and with four adults and two kids, we're all going to need a place to escape to now and then. But if Jer's here for three years, things will need to change. It would be a little strange to have John still in our room when he's going on 6. The photo manager at work does what we do - all of his kids started out in their bed. He told me they generally want their own room by the time they turn four.

John's doing great with his own bed. Every now and then, he'll crawl in with us in the night, but I'd say, 90 per cent of the time now, he stays put. He seems to even prefer his own bed now - he hops right in and snuggles under the covers when we take him up to bed. It used to be a screaming match every night, to get him to even touch his bed. We think he's started potty training, too. He usually has a tantrum when you point out the little floor potty, so I went with a new strategy. We pulled out the little kid toilet seat my parents got him. We put his little stool by the toilet, and pop the toddler seat on. He actually asks to go now! Nothing's happened so far, but it's sparked some renewed interest at least. Mike's grandma sent us some toddler underwear, and I've toyed with the idea of just switching him into them during the day. He hates feeling wet and poopy, so it might speed things up. I've met many moms online who've done it that way. But Mike thinks it might be a little too sudden, so we're going to give the new toilet seat thing another week or two, and see where he is. Maybe we'll just wait until after Mike's parents have come and gone - then we'll have a long stretch without any schedule interruptions, which might make it easier on him.

Well, I've got both kids awake now, so my few minutes of "me time" is over. I'm kind of wishing I'd used it to shower! Oh well! I'll get another chance, I'm sure.

A quck note...

My parents were here for a few days to see John and Joan. John of course had a blast. He spent three days playing choo choo with Grandpa, and bear-on-phone with Grandma. He's still chasing me around with the bear in one hand, phone in the other. He's still asking to go see you, too. He doesn't seem to get that you're too far away. He likes to look at this picture though - when it popped onto the sceen, he jumped up and down, yelling "look, mommy! Grandma! Grandpa!"

Everything here is alright. I'll do a prper update soon, but don't have much time right now. I agreed to be part of a study on child development from Mac, so two researchers will be here in a few hours, and I have to get ready. I hate being a part of studies, but I only turned them down once, and I regret it. it was a five year study, and at the time, we were looking to move home, so i didn't think we'd be here long enough to finish it. It was on child obesity and diabetes. I agreed to do a breastmilk contamination study, and this one, though. I think it's important to do them, when you're in a demographic that's being studied. You can't really brag that we have a world class research hospital if you aren't willing to do your bit to keep it world class. We can't give them money, but we can offer our children as test subjects.

Mike's job just changed - they took everyone's van away for the winter, so he now has to commute to Burlington every day. It means I won' have a car unless we pack the kids up and commute there with him. It kinda sucks, but it's only for another eight weeks.

It looks like Jeremy might be moving in with us in April. He's thinking of going to Mac to upgrade his degree to a four-year, and doing his masters, so Mike offered to let him live here to save money. Of course, he has no cash for tuition, so he's thinking he needs to move in April to give him enough time to save. He's coming over tomorrow to talk it over. Should be a very interesting year, or three, if it actually happens. No idea where he's going to stay. We have rooms, of course - it's just a matter of which one would be best to give everyone enough space and privacy.

Anyway, I'd better go. There's nothing that would prompt the Mac researchers to call child services on us, but I do have some toys to tidy up.

Good news and bad news...

Joan had her one month check-up yesterday, and follow-up hearing test.

Good news is, she's not deaf. They tested when she was born, and her left ear was fine, but they got no response from the right, so we had to have her re-tested with the "big machine." Everything was perfectly fine - the nurse said sometimes they can't get a reading in the hospital, because the ears are still filled with gunk from delivery.

Other good news - she's growing well and is now 13 pounds, 4 ounces.

Other good news - the swab from the eye infection came back negative. It was just a clogged duct and a little cold after all. A waste of antibiotics, but better safe than sorry.

And now for the potentially bad news:

She's being referred to a pediatrician for two things - first her insane vomiting. Usually it would qualify as spit-up, but sometimes, she vomits. Tons of it. Sometimes with such force, it shoots out her nose as well as her mouth, and hits objects a foot or more away. It's not affecting her growth at all, but the doc says it warrants a closer look by a specialist. He thinks it might be reflux. They might give her Zantac or something like that until she outgrows it.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he found a heart murmur. He assured us it's likely nothing and something perfectly harmless - it's a very small number of kids who actually have murmurs that cause problems. He said it's extremely faint, but he wants to make sure it's nothing. Hopefully, we can get her seen by someone soon. I like to think pediatricians have short waiting lists.

I'm really hoping he's right, and that it's nothing, but I'm a little nervous. When she was first born, the nurse said there was something odd with her heart. She heard it skip beats. She called the NICU nurse down, who said that it was more a slow-down, rather than a skipped beat. So they called the pediatritian down, just in case. He said she was fine - noted that she was a little more pale and jittery than she should be, but that her heart seemed fine - he said the tempo was changing, and that sometimes doctors and nurses find it a little alarming, but it's perfectly fine for a newborn heart. Maybe that was actually the first glimmers of a bigger problem. Hopefully not. Her heart had actually stopped several times during her delivery. She had her cord tucked under her arm, so during the big contractions right at the end, her heart would stop. They were discussing a c-section, but it kept bouncing back after each contraction, so they kept holding off. Hopefully, that didn't cause some sort of damage.

Otherwise, things are chugging along well. I have a busy couple of days ahead. I have to tidy the house today - my parents are coming for a visit tomorrow. And tomorrow, I promised John I'd take him to the early years centre. We had to go to one for Joan's hearing test, so we let John play while we waited for her turn. Wow. He's been out of daycare for way too long. He didn't interact at all with the other kids. There was a circle time running, which he used to love in daycare, but he wouldn't sit - just ran from toy to toy, like he'd never seen a toy before in his life. When we went to go, he had a major, major tantrum. And he hadn't even seen the Tonka trucks! Mike said he acted like he'd been kept in a closet all his life, and had been set free for the first time. So, I vowed I would take him back the next time I have the car - which is Thursday. Should be fun. Chances are, Mike will be working, so it will just be me and two kids. It took two of us to drag John away the last time. Should be interesting on my own.

Oh - more good news for John - while Mike took Joan in for her hearing test, I stayed with John, and got a little tour of the facility. It turns out, the ENTIRE best start program is up and running there!!! That means nothing to anyone up north. But under the Liberals, east Hamilton was made one of two or three pilot sites for Best Start - Ontario's answer to Universal Child Care. It includes centralized services and daycares within existing schools, which is exacly what this centre had - it had hearing tests, speech pathologists, an early years centre and a paid daycare all in one existing school.

However, there was one part of the program I'd heard was scrapped entirely when the Conservatives came in, but it actually exists. It's universal pre-school. It's a fully government-funded half-day daycare program for 3-year-olds, which mimics real kindergarten. The orininal vision was for every kid not already in institutional care to get a half day each week, in the year before JK, to get used to a school atmosphere. But now it's a half day, every day. John qualifies to start in September, because he's turning three this summer, and there's a program in our school catchment! Isn't that awesome!? That will be so good for him while I'm on mat leave. Five days seems like a lot, though. But it's only 2 and a half hours, and they play games and have a snack, and have structured school activities in a mock kindergarten class. I think he really needs that. He's just been in home-based care, which was very, very good for him. He really blossomed there. But I think he's reached a point where he needs to get used to larger groups and the chaos of a classroom. He really shrinks in larger groups, which will be a problem come school in a year and a half. Hopefully, the program for September isn't full yet. I'm waiting for a call back from the co-ordinator. I don't think I can make use of it after I'm back at work though - it would mean moving him three times in a day, which would be a logistical nightmare, but even September to January would be valuable, I think. Besides, it was designed for the kids of stay-at-home moms, so that school wouln't be their first exposure to a school-like atmosphere.

Anyway, I'd better get going.

What's in a name?

Alright. I feel the need to address the name issue.

Joan. It's such a simple name, but it inspires an anusually strong response from people.

Joan was Mike's pick when I was pregnant with John. He wanted Stephen as a boy's first name, but I won that one. Nothing against Steve, but in every dream I had while I was pregnant, I was having a boy named John, so to me, Stephen just didn't fit. Well, there was one dream where he was a girl - but still named John. But in the delivery room, we agreed that I could have John, if he could have Joan in the event of a girl.

That's the basic root of Joan. He likes the name, because everyone knows it and knows how to spell it, but it's not used anymore, so she'll be the only Joan in her class. This matters to someone named Mike, I guess - he was one of about six. I can't relate. I was the only Megan I knew until high school.

Boy's names were easy this time. Mike has always wanted a boy named Dave. My only demand was that Glenn be in the mix. I like it as a first name, but it was agreed to as a second name, making our boy's choice David Glenn. Matthew and Tom were also in the running.

However, just like last time, the girl's name was the hang-up. Mike wasn't willing to budge from Joan until the very end. As in, after she was born. So she was Baby Walchuk for the first two days of her life.

But coming up with an alternative proved impossible. Given more time to think, she probably would have been named something else. He decided he didn't like our original compromise name of Sarah anymore - too common. We thought about Laura - Vicki's middle name. We even thought about calling her Laura Ann - both of Vicki's middle names - in honour of the two Walchuk Christmas babies. I'm sure they'll be able to comiserate about their moms' poor timing later in life. She was almost Laura Mae, but we thought it sounded too hickish. That's when Catherine entered the picture. Laura Catherine. A little classier. Other names which came up were Kathleen - the "K" sounds nice with Walchuk. Jennie, after Mike's great Grandma. We both really liked it, but Mike didn't want Jennifer, and thought it was too weired to call her Jennie as an actual name, even though that was his g grandma's actual legal name. (she's from Newfoundland.) But, given a couple more days to think, she probably would have been a Jennie.

So, as I was discharged, it was down to two - Laura Catherine and Joan Catherine. Discharge was our deadline for a name. We had to hand in her OHIP form, and Mike didn't want to hand it in blank, even though you're allowed to. He thought it would be bad luck or something.

So we were standing at the nurse's station, baby in one hand, blank OHIP form in the other, and Mike says - "you decide." I didn't want to be eternally blamed for chosing the wrong name (my pick was Laura) so I said "Paper, rock scissors." It was in the hands of fate.

Fate chose Laura, best out of three.

The nurse told us we'd chosen wisely, we filled in the form, and left.

We got as far as the hospital lobby before Mike turned to me and said he was sad - in his mind, she was a Joan, and really didn't like the name Laura as much as he thought he did. What am I supposed to say to that? I was there with John - he was always going to be John to me, and the thought of naming him Steve made me really sad. So we turned around, went back to the nurse's station, made her get out the white-out, and we changed her name to Joan. As we were doing it, the nurse called to two others walking past "guys - they're going with JOAN." And said it with a surprising level of disgust.

But Joan it is. We didn't even register her untill the last minute, in case we decided to change our minds. But Mike thought that would really be bad luck, and he'd already sent out birth announcements and word had already spread, and we already had a blanket embroidered with Joan, so it was really too late.

I don't mind the name anymore - it's grown on me over the past month. My only qualm is that it's too close to John. We justify it by pointing to John and Joan Cusack, who are siblings. Their parents got away with it, so we figure we can too. Though the first few days were very, very confusing, to say the least.

"Which one are you talking about?"
"John."
"But you said Joan."
"No, I said John."
"No, you said Joan. I heard it."
"I think I know what I said."
"This is stupid. We should have gone with Laura."

But we seem to have ironed it out. We don't get confused anymore. I thought about calling her Joanie, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't know - she's just not a Joanie. Maybe when she's a little more girly. Mike thinks her nicname should be Cat, but she's not a Cat either - not even he calls her that, and it's the reason he liked Catherine as a middle name. I think it will be much better when we have a third. We feel dumb introducing our kids as John and Joan, but John, Joan and Dave doesn't sound so goofy.

The battle for a girl' name for number three has already begun, though. Deborah is Mike's top pick right now. I still really like Shelby, even though he insists it's a boy's name. I'd say the next one will be Jennie, but I think we need to steer clear of J names for number three, or people really WILL think we're strange.

Wow - haven't been here in a whole year!

First off, I'm really, really tired, so this may not make any sense. And I don't care about spelling today.

Well, I guess this is the new "improved" family portrait, taken recently at Vicki and Billy's new apartment.

As most of you know, we have a daughter. Joan was born December 28, at 10:52 p.m. - just one day after her due date - after a 12-hour induction.

Long delivery story short, Mike and I went in for my routine check-up on my due date, only to discover that the baby's head was nowhere to be found. So the OB closed her office and we all went across the street to the hospital, for an ultrasound and non-stress test, to make sure there was still a head.

Baby was fine, but bum-down, which wasn't good news. They won't do deliveries that way anymore, so I was looking at a C-section. They gave us the option to try to flip the baby first, and we said go for it. The next morning, we went in for flipping, and, wouldn't you know it, the baby had flipped back around on her own in the night. Unfortunately, her head wasn't lodged in my pelvis, but floating loose, so they decided to induce me, before she had a chance to flip back again, and the rest is history.

That leaves me at home with two little kids, which has been quite an adventure. It wasn't too bad at the start - Mike's grandma was here to help out and keep John entertained, which he enjoyed (he still talks about how you bought him ice cream!) But now real life is here. We kind of floundered for a bit, but things are starting to sort themselves out. Part of that is imposing a schedule on John. I know, Mike and Megan imposing order. Sounds a little far-fetched, but it's true. He used to have a very rigid schedule with daycare, but since going on mat leave, we've let him fall into an "eternal weekend" kind of schedule - stay up late, get up late. It was fine for me - he'd go to bed with us, then while he slept in the mornings, I'd catch up on my lost sleep from a night of carng for Joan. But obviously, it's not what's best for John. Toddlers thrive on order, and he's getting too old for prime time TV. He was starting to bring up violent things he'd seen, like car crashes and guns, so we decided that if we ever want to watch TV, or movies that aren't made by Disney ever again, he'd need an earlier bed time. That, and we really wanted our bed back. We can handle Joan coming in when she's fussy in the night, but four was getting way too crowded.

So now, we try to have him asleep by 9ish, and he's up the next morning aroud 8 or 9. For my sanity, I try to make him take a nap, but so far it's a no-go. He's tired and cranky, but refuses to sleep in the day. Hence why I am sooo exhausted. Joan's up all night and John's up all day. It's pretty tough, but I'm hoping it will settle down soon. It's for the best - John is happier. He's learned to like his bed. It's funny watching all the stall tactics, though. He wants food. He's thirsty.He wants a different shirt. He wants another book. He wants to just sit and hug. ANYTHING to delay the inevitable. But I find if we just keep plugging along, he eventually gives in and falls asleep.

Joan's doing well. Growing like a weed. I'm afraid of what her weight is now. Two weeks ago, she was 11 pounds 4 ounces - she'd gained 25 per cent of her body weight in just two weeks, and she's still packing it on. She's growing out of sleepers that fit John for months. It's scary. But the doctor has assured me that crazy weight gain is a good thing, so I'm trying not to think about it.

She's getting over a bit of a cold, which gave her an eye infection. She woke up with sticky green goo holding her eye closed. It was lovely. But it cleared up within couple of days with the antibiotics. She seemed to be congested too - she wasn't feeding very well. Pulling off, that sort of thing. That seems to be clearing up too. She has fussy times, but is generally a good baby. She's different from John, though, so we've had to start from scratch to figure out what she does and doesn't like. She's much easier to keep happy - but once she's upset, she's harder to console than he was. Though I keep forgetting she's only three weeks old. John was pretty inconsolable at three weeks old, so in many ways, she's a much easier baby.

Anyway, I'd better go. John is bored and Joan is due to be up relatively soon. I'll post again with more pictures and stuff when I get sme time.

John opening his Thomas train engine He's been on it ever since

Things have been pretty slow here. Election fever has kind of sucked up our lives. We've been watching so much coverage, I feel like Mike Duffy is a personal friend. We really didn't volunteer, though. It's tough with a toddler. I thought I was tired last election, when I was 9 months preggo.

But it was good. Election night was a little different - Mike and usually stay together, but this time, I had to work. I was at the conservative HQ and victory party from 8:30p.m. until 1 a.m. The publisher thought it would be neat to have updates on each camp every half hour, as the evening progressed, posted to the company website. It seemed a little daunting at first, but it was actually really fun, and turned out really well. We don't usually get to be a part of breaking news, but I phoned in with a little story on the pre-counting excitement, and another as the polls started to roll in, and it was clear the guy was going to win, then on to the party and victory speach. I felt like a real reporter, filing my stories over the phone. The other reporter had to cover the incumbant Liberals, and her stories were very, very different. He was so sure he would win, that he never actually conceded. We were down the road partying, and the CBC had already placed a checkmark to show victory, but at Lib HQ, he was still telling people that there was a chance he could win. He didn't admit until after 1 a.m., when there were only 6 of the 21 polls left to come in, that maybe he really did lose. It was sad, really. Truly pathetic.

John's doing great. Had his well-baby a couple weeks ago - growing slowly, but normally. He's 2'10" or something, and just over 25 pounds.

Remember how I said he was answering yes and no to questions. Nix that. Now he answers everything, even things he clearly wants, with "NO!" It's so frustrating! He'll still say yes to his babysitter, but to me, it's NO! all the way. And he's just getting so cheeky! In his bath, he tries to fill his cup, and dump it over the side of the tub, because he knows it drives me completely insane. He gets this little glimmer in his eye, just as he's about to attemptit, so i know when to deflect, but he's doing it just to push my buttons, which I don't think is very nice. Everyone says he's all boy, and I guess that's just part of it.

The daycare debate is looming large in our house. Mike wants to switch to the french place as soon as there's space, but they aren't very flexible on time, (They CLOSE at 5:30!) and he's just so happy where he is. He LOVES going to daycare. He waits at the door for memany mornings, he's so eager to go. The other day, I dropped him off late. The other kids were so glad to see him, they had a little group hug in the livingroom. John looked so happy to see them! He jumped up and down, and hugged them back. They have a little picnic table, and he sits right down there with them, and chats away. It's just so cute, and he likes it there, so I'd like him to stay. They're like a family to him. The debate will really heat up when there's actually a space at the other place - so far, we're still on the waiting list.

On the new baby front, there's good news and bad news. I saw the specialist, but she wasn't particularly helpful. She's convinced there's nothing actually wrong with me, and has sent me to be re-tested for PCOS!!! She doesn't think I even have it!!! Argh! My family doctor didn't believe me either, until he saw a picture of my grossly disfigured ovaries.

She said my history is highly unusual - John, and the other pregnancy shouldn't have been possible. So, now I haveto be retested. I can't even do it right away - I have to wait until the miscarriage hormones are out of my system, which won't be until mid-February. Then, she'll test for insulin resistance, and PCOS, but she's convinced both will come back showing that I'm ok, particularly the insulin resistance.

She talked a bit about te diabetes medication, but she wants to intervene as little as possible - she thinks I can get pregnant on my own, and that the next pregnancy will be normal and healthy - the miscariage was just one of those things, and she's not convinced I need diabetes drugs. She told me to stick to the diabetes diet, walk every day, and keep my weight down - she thinks the fact that I have a relatively normal weight and avoid sweets and junk to begin with is the reason I was able to have John, and continued to get pregnant after John, so to just keep going. If I'm not pregnant by April, I'm supposed to go back and she'll actually DO something.

So, she said she's not sure what to do about me, because my case is extremely unusual, but that it's unusual in my favour. I guess at the end of the day that's a good thing!

This is what John did the whole time we were at the tree farm. This is Mike perusing the pre-cut selection, so we could get him back home to bed 

John upon arrival at the tree farm, obviously ready for some family fun 

John obviously caught his second wind after we picked up the tree - we took him to get groceries, and he pushed. 

catching a ride on Dad

Sheesh! It’s been a while. Things have been busy, and I haven’t felt like updating much, to be honest.

But let’s see. Despite many trials and tribulations, including our car being stolen just days before, and having to buy a new one for the trip, we actually made it home. We even made it alive, despite freezing rain and bad tires.

We stopped in Geraldton on the way, where john was reunited with Mac. Now that John is up and running, he had lots of fun. Grandma got him a whole load of cool new toys, including a hand-made logging truck, which although designed to be pushed around, is the perfect straddle-size for John, who prefers to ride it. When he does, it tends to fall apart, at which time, he’ll cart the pieces to one of us one-by-one for repair, chanting “uh-oh” all the way.

After a day of recouperation in Geraldton, it was off to Dryden, where John was dumped with relatives, while Mike dragged me off to Bill Brown’s campaign office. Don’t get me wrong – I really like Bill Brown, and I hope he wins. But boy, was I wiped. I was there because I actually needed a vacation, but got back feeling more exhausted than when I left.

John seemed to have a good time. We didn’t see him much, but when we did, he was happy. We took him swimming a few times in Mike’s parents’ basement pool. He actually dunked his head under and “swam” for a few seconds at a time. My heart stopped every time he did it, but he obviously knew exactly what he was doing.

Mike’s parents also rented a slide, and he had fun climbing up the back, and sliding down. I tried to show mike just before we put john to bed one night, but he was a little too naked from his bath, so he stuck to the plastic and tumbled down instead. Still laughing all the way, mind you, but it wasn’t exactly graceful.

My parents dug up some of our old toys, and sent us home with a bucket of our old magnetic letters. We have them all over the fridge now, and he loves playing with them. I find little stashes of them everywhere. He also discovered the old blue chair, which has no legs, making it low enough for him to hop up easily. We often found him relaxing in the chair, reading himself a book, grinning from ear to ear. Life was good for John; he had a comfy chair and a good book.

Mike’s parents got us snow tires for the trip home, which we really appreciated after a week or so sliding all over town. Although it was sad to leave, we needed to go – John was showing some signs of wear. He was getting sluggish and sniffly. All that excitement seemed to be bringing on a cold. His nose was running by the time we got to Geraldton, but that didn’t deter mike, who was determined to take John tobogganing in the six inches of fluffy new snow. So we got a sled, all piled on, and headed down this horrible hill, which turns in the middle, and ends up with you going through bushes! By the time we got to the bottom, John was screaming. Mike wanted to give it another go, so he headed back down with john. They plowed through new snow when they got to the bottom, which sprayed up and covered John head to toe in snow. He wasn’t amused. That was the end of tobogganing. Maybe next year.

It hadn’t done his cold any good. He was wiped. Like, beyond wiped. As wiped as can be. The morning we got up to go, he was in such a foul mood. He hadn’t eaten his dinner the night before and he’d been up screaming all night. He probably felt yucky, with a sore throat and stressed out from the trip and getting a cold, and had that “I just want to go home” kind of meltdown. The next morning, it seems he screamed non-stop. By the time I got his jacket on to go, he’d completely had it. He flaked out flat on the kitchen floor, caressing the satin edging of his pink blanket with one hand, thumb from the other hand firmly wedged in his mouth, just laying there spread-eagle on his back. Mac came up and licked his face – that was the only time he giggled all day.

We finally got going, and he was out cold within minutes. However, I had to poke him awake, because we were supposedly stopping for gas soon – if he got too much rest before the gas stop, he’d wake up and be too awake to fall back to sleep, but too tired to be cheerful, making for hours of crankiness. So I poked, and poked and poked. And of course, after all this poking, the gas station was closed. In fact, the next several gas stations were closed – it was Sunday, after all. Which is why we eventually ran out of gas just outside Hearst. We were pretty close, so mike started pushing, but gave up after a few inches, and thumbed a ride to the next station. He was back within minutes, but it was enough time for John to wake up, so I let him up for a stretch. We thought we were doomed to cranky baby, but he was asleep a few minutes after we got going again. In fact, during the 12-hour drive he was up for maybe 3 hours total, which was really nice.

He was the happiest kid alive when we got home. He was all smiles as he ran from familiar thing to familiar thing. He chased the cat, and played all his usual games. Even after sleeping for nearly 12 hours, we gave him a bath, and put him to bed, where he slept like a log for the whole night.

We took him to daycare the next day, where he squealed with delight at the sight of his friends, and couldn’t get into the toys fast enough. And that’s kind of where the happiness ended. We thought he was over the cold, but the next day, he woke up soooo sick. He was coughing and wheezing. No hives this time, thank goodness. It was just a cold, but a bad one. He had a bit of a fever, and was pretty sluggish. I felt terrible making him go to daycare day after day feeling so cruddy, but I had no choice.

Since we got back, things have been pretty uneventful. We didn’t bother with Christmas lights this year. We were just too busy. We did get a tree, though. We decided to make it a family event, and go back to the same farm we went to last year. John, however, wasn’t quite up to it. I find after a week at daycare, he’s pretty wiped, so Saturdays are usually sleepy days. But we packed him in the car anyway, and he was asleep by the time we got to the farm. In fact, he dozed, with his arms wrapped around mike and his head on Mike’s shoulder, almost the whole time we were there. So, to make his poor little life a little easier, we just picked up a pre-cut tree and headed home, rather than drag his little body all through a field. Besides it was cold out. We didn’t feel like walking through a farm, either. He caught his second wind when we got home – he was very excited about the tree going up. He poked at the branches and giggled for a long time.

It actually stayed undecorated all through Christmas. Mike had to work Christmas day, but has two days off in a row during Ukrainian Christmas, so we figured we’d do it all then. I don’t really feel like doing it then either, but whatever. Bah humbug.

Mike wanted to go to church this year, so we did. We went to the early service – the one for families, obviously. We went to the united church down the street. It’s massive! So many people! John had a great time – he got lots of attention. All the old couples came up to meet him and say hello. They loved his name (most of them were named John too) and all the ladies loved the red hair. John could sense that this strange new event was clearly all about him, so was “on” to the delight of everyone. He boogied to the hymns. He spent most of the service smiling and waving to the two couples sitting behind us. After a while, he got adventurous and crept to the edge of our pew, where he was met with a sea of adoring, smiling faces across the isle. Our little celebrity walked along the red carpet, waving and smiling, and was so entranced by the attention, he walked face-first into a pew, but shook himself off, and just kept on smiling and waving to anyone who’d look his way. Then, came a round of peek-a-boo with the old couple behind us, as he’d coyfully peek around the pew, only to dart back, all a-giggle. Eventually, he decided to explore. He ran around the back, until he came across a one-year-old, doing the same thing. So the two of them chummed around together, playing with the tree lights, and climbing on furniture, until the service was nearly over. We managed to lure John back to us right at the end, when the candles were lit – he couldn’t resist the flame. Once it was over, it was time to bid farewell to his adoring public of little old people, who flocked to see him off. He gave them the thrill of a wave goodbye, which they thought was very cute.

I was a little embarrassed by having all those people see him, because he’d just had his first haircut. Mike decided enough was enough, and got out the scissors and an electric razor. He let me do the first snip, but then went at his head with wild abandon. He used his beard trimmer for most of it, and anyone who’s seen Mike’s beard knows it doesn’t trim very short, so it was actually working out alright, until Mike decided to take the attachment off for some reason. He said he was trying to get some stray hairs, but wound up nicking John’s head. He now has a big bald spot in the back, which looks rediculous. Other than that, it’s a little jagged in some places, but overall it’s not a bad job. No-one seemed to notice – at least no-one said anything.

We decorated the tree on Boxing Day. I strung the lights, while John hung balls. As a result, we had balls clumped at the bottom of the tree, because that’s only as far as he could reach. He had lots of fun helping, but his favourite part was the official lighting. I got a squeal and a big applause from John!

John is getting very communicative these days. He doesn’t “say” things, per se, but he can understand most of what we say and has started answering yes or no to questions, which is making life much more fun. If he’s getting a little cranky, he can’t tell us if he’s tired or hungry, but I’ll ask “Are you tired?” “Na” “Are you hungry?” “Yeah!” so then I know to get him a snack. He’ll give accurate yesses or nos to whether he’s tired, hungry, having fun, or is done eating and wants down. That’s about as detailed as we have things so far – but it’s the basics, which makes life a little easier.

However, he uses this power for evil as well. He’s starting to get a little cheeky in his old age, and he’s learning how to press my buttons. Bedtime is the big battleground right now. He doesn’t fuss up, but he knows he’s supposed to go to sleep, so he fights to stay awake, and goofs around. He’ll pull my hair and laugh, or he’ll hit me and giggle, or he’ll squirm or bounce – anything but settle down. The other night, I said, “OK, I’m putting you in your bed now,” and he grinned, shook his head, and said “NO!” He was just trying to push my buttons – I could tell from the grin. So I called his bluff and put him to bed like I said, which didn’t make him very happy. I don’t think he was expecting me to do that, because after I left, he sobbed big sad sobs, like real sobs, for a long time. So I went back and cuddled him to sleep, as he wiped tears off his face –his whole face was soaked from just a minute of crying, which made me feel really bad. But the bed process was a little easier the next night. I think he learned that if he really wants to cuddle at bedtime, he can’t pull my hair or horse around.

We don’t have any plans for new years. Both mike and I are off for Monday, but John’s going to daycare anyway. We need a day to sleep, and I have to go see my therapist. Woohoo. I’m really not looking forward to it. We’ve dealt with a lot of stuff, but now she wants to rewind all the way back to the first miscarriage. Ugh. She wants to do this exercise called “viewing” where I have to pick a point where the “trauma” started, and a point where I think it ended, and relive the whole event out loud, frame by frame, in graphic, gory detail. I really thought I was over the miscarriage – I hadn’t even given it much thought lately - but I started bawling just trying to decide on a starting point, so she said we’ll do it next time. She didn’t think we had enough time to get through the whole story in detail, and it’s really damaging to leave mid-story, so I have a full appointment on Monday morning to purge everything I can remember. She says it’s a miserable process, but insists I’ll feel better afterwards, because I keep repressing things, which will just keep resurfacing until they’re actually dealt with. Whatever. So far, just thinking about having to do it makes me upset. So obviously, she’s right that it’s still a problem, but I hope she’s right that this will help. I don’t see how dredging it all back up will help. I’m a firm believer in repression. But I guess she’s the one with the degree.

On the upside, I have an appointment with a gynocologist in a couple of weeks, to see what’s going wrong. It was actually made months and months ago, before I got pregnant, on the assumption that I wouldn’t be able to get pregnant on my own again. My doc never cancelled it, thank goodness, and he said he’d give her a call and tell her what happened, so she can run a whack of tests and see if I need any help holding on to a pregnancy. He admitted my condition is beyond his level of expertise, especially with all the new research that just came out. It used to be that people with PCOS were put on the pill when they didn’t want to get pregnant, and clomid when they did, and that was it. Now, it’s actually “treatable”, but it can be pretty complex. It really does require a specialist, so I’m glad he held the appointment for me – otherwise I’d be waiting for six months. As it is, he warned me that she might send me straight on to an endocrinologist, which will be another six-month wait. Hopefully, she doesn’t do that.

John is at home with Dad today. He’s been with a new sitter all week. Our regular one of course had Monday, Tuesday and Friday off, but asked for last Friday, and all of this week off, because friends of the family were killed in a horrible car accident just before Christmas. They were coming back from a hockey game – their sons were on the same team. The hockey mom hit a patch of drifting snow, lost control, went into the other lane, where they were broadsided by an oncoming SUV. All four people – the mom, two kids and the kids’ cousin, were killed. The driver of the SUV isn’t expected to live, but his three passengers should be OK, though all are still in hospital. A lot of the team members actually saw the accident, and one of the dads actually saw the bodies. This guy’s a pro fire-fighter, but he apparently turned as white as a ghost when he came away from the scene – he didn’t know when he approached the car that he’d know the people inside.

So obviously, we gave her the time off. The hockey league put the team members – who were 13 – and their parents into group counseling, and they’ve been spending lots of time together as a group, to try to work through it, so they really needed that time as a family. For the kids, they had a friend killed right in that invincible stage of life, and the parents are dealing with a friend’s death, as well as dealing with grief in their kids, as well as the guilt that they could be putting their families at risk over a game. It’s been really hard for everyone, and lucky me had to do the article. The funeral was on Wednesday – all of the hockey families went, and the team went together in their jerseys.

We have a back-up sitter in town here, so we took John to her for the three days, which he really enjoyed. She’s on disability, so she needs the money, and we needed a sitter, so it worked out for everybody. John loved it there – he was spoiled with lots of turkey and sweet potatoes and brownies, and she has a little terrier dog, named Rufus, which he loves. He put on a lot of weight while he was there! She took him around shopping and things, so he got out to see the sights every day, and got to see lots of people. She even took him swimming at the Y! I found him a cute little pair of blue Elmo swim trunks at the Goodwill, and we found those swimming diapers, so he was set and in high style for his first trip to the Y. He didn’t like it at first, she said. He seemed a little overwhelmed by all the screaming kids, so she settled him down, and went to a quiet corner instead, and he really enjoyed it after that. They have these big rubber ducks there that little kids can ride around in, so she let him ride in one, which he really liked. He sure slept well after that! So it was kind of a nice holiday for him, but I think he’ll still enjoy getting back to his regular routine at his regular place, with the regular kids that he’s used to. People who meet him for the first time think he’s so outgoing, but a lot of it is a show I think – he really does best in his little world, with his little routines and patterns, with new things thrown in now and then just to keep it interesting. Though, who isn’t like that?

Anyway, I had better go. This post is way too long! My apologies to anyone who sacrificed the time it would have taken to read the whole thing. But, as a consolation, here’s another picture!

catching a ride on Dad 

This was john in the fall, helping me rake leaves 

a little brag...

I have to share - I'm so proud!

For the past couple of weeks, I haven't been able to nurse John to sleep. He'll nurse to groggy, then lie awake, usually quietly singing or babbling in my arms. No amount of rocking or shushing has been able to lull him to sleep. So I started just putting him in his crib and leaving - there was nothing else I could do. Of course, he would wail piteously. We'd wind up each night with him standing in his crib, clutching me, while I tried to calm him down. But eventually, I'd say good-night, give him a kiss and go to sit on the steps to listen to him cry himself to sleep.

It took about 10 minutes the first night. But every night, there's been less and less fuss. A few nights ago, it became aparant the wails were just for show - he fell silent the second the door closed behind me.

Well, last night, he made a breakthrough! I did the whole little ritual, just like normal. I sang him his favourite song while I nursed him. Then we cuddled for a few minutes. Then I put him in his crib. He clung to me, while I rubbed his back. Then, I bent down, kissed his check and said good-night. THEN, instead of crying and stomping, like he has been, he turned his head and kissed my hand - a first. Then, clutching his pink security blanket, he laid down in his crib and shut his eyes!!! I gave his head a stroke and left the room - not a peep! How amazing is that!?

I hope it's the beginnings of something!

Update

An older photo - just after John's Birthday. It's my new favourite - it's my desktop at work right now.

Ok - it's been a while. I can't even remember everything that's happened with John since the last update.

John got my flu after all. We were sick together, though he had it much worse than me. He apparently had an allergic reaction to the virus, which caused him to break out into hives from head to toe. It started out as just a little redness on his cheeks. I thought nothing of it, because he was drooling, and his nose was running, so I thought it was just from that. But then he got chills, and started shaking and turning splotchy and blue, so I ran him a really warm bath. It did the trick - he was fine. But that's whe I noticed the rashes all over his body. After a couple of hours, the rash had developed into blistery things all over his face, and his eyes were swelling shut, so I called the doc. The nurse said it was chicken pox, hands down, no question. When I asked if he could have caught it from the chicken pox shot, which he had just gotten, she said better bring him in, and it turned out to be hives. A few days on Baby Benedryl, and he was as good as new, but he had a bad cough for some time.

He's learned a new word from daycare "uh-oh!" He went for weeks saying it all the time. he'd drop stuff from his high chair just so he COULD say it. It's toned down a little, but it's a pretty permenant part of his little vocabulary.

Mike has been trying to teach him to call me Megan, which has been pretty annoying. I was home with John one day, and went upstairs for something. John stood at the bottom of the stairs, and clear as a bell called "Me-gan!" I've been working to counter it, and I am now "Mommy", which is close enough to Megan that he's switched over pretty easily. Sometimes he'll still call me Mama, but usually only when he's upset.

Cat Man has struck again, leaving a dozen or so cats in our basement. I have to take John down there now and then to get something from th freezer or switch the laundry, and he almost always points and says "kitty!" Or more like "kahtee." It's a huge relief, because i just interviewed the parents of an autistic boy, and he does all the same things as John, in terms of how he plays (putting stuff into buckets, sorting, stacking, etc) and he also didn't have many words by this age, which John doesn't either. I've been assured by Alice that he's normal, but it's nice to hear a consistent word from him.

John had a really fun time with me out on assignment the other week. we went to get pictures of school kids out raking leaves in the school yard. John got right into it. He flung his little body onto the pile of leaves, picked up a huge arm-ful, and then put them into the yard waste bags. It was so cute! He had such a look of pride on his face, like "I'm making a difference!" All the parents thought it was cute. Until we had to go, that is. He would have happily stayed and helped, but I had other, less exciting assignments to go to, so I had to pick him up and leave, which made him howl. The next assignment was a church bazaar, which wasn't early as much fun, followed by a halloween party, which was only made fun by the pumpkins, which he kept trying to steal. (That was after he recovered from all the scary costumes, and let go of my leg.)

Of course! Halloween! I'll need to download my fall photos. John was a tiger!!! I found a great costume at Value Village, which was miles too big for him, but it just made him look cuter - he was a big ball of fake fur.

We had him trained, after the first few kids, to put candy into everyone's bag. He got right into it. After a while, he'd see kids coming towards the house, and he'd grab a huge handful and run to the edge of the steps to wait for them.

We took him out towards the end of the evening. We got a little pail, and went to the neighbours. A shut-in lives across the street, so her daughter asked us to come in and show off John. She thanked us profusely, because it really lifted her mom's spirits to see how cute he was. Then it was off to the Jones' (not their real names - that's just what we call them) Mrs Jones always dresses up as a fairy, and decorates the house out of some magazine. They have a dog, which John loved (he has a dog, Nike, at daycare, which is bigger than me). He kept petting the dog, and then took chocolate out of his bucket and gave it to the dog. Next, were neighbours we don't know, but they were watching us at the Jones, so we thought it might be rude not to go, so we headed there. They had a 10-month-old baby girl, and John was smitten. Every time she'd babble, John would giggle and do his shy turn-away thing. After those three houses, he'd kind of had enough. He was getting crazy hyper - though maybe Dad feeding him Kitkats for dinner had something to do with that.

After that we went to show him off to our riding president and his wife - they're like surrogate parents to us. He always does halloween in a big way - he owns a DJ business, so he gets out the sound system on the lawn, and howls at kids as they walk past. People come from all over just to see his house. So Mike and Jim sat out in the sunroom and handed out candy, undoubtedly talking politics, and Joan and I played with John inside. She had a miscarriage when she was my age, so we had a talk about that, which kind of helped.

John has become quite the flirt. I took him to the grocery store to pick up a few things, and he flirted with the checkout girl. He does this thing with his eyebrows - he kind of wiggles them up and down, which looks like a come-on. Well, this girl leaned over to John and told him he was the cutest little boy she'd ever seen, and that sent the eyebrows a-wiggling. She laughed, which made him laugh, and then she'd look back, and he'd wiggle them again. They played that game the whole time I was in line.

That was a while ago, though. He's not much of a charmer these days - he's cutting molars, which has made him feel pretty miserable. I didn't even know until they had actually popped through. He grabbed my finger, jammed it in his mouth, and bit down hard - there they were. Two at the same time. It explained a lot. He had been having lots of trouble sleeping - he was up screaming every night. I didn't have any clue it was teething - we thought it was still because of the flu, because he slept in our bed through most of his flu, so we thought he was still feeling yicky. Who knew? So we've got him on a pain management strategy of finger-knawing and Tylenol, which seems ot be working out fine. He's sleeping though again, and is much, much less clingy and hyper-sensitive.

We're re-arranging our kitchen ot be John-friendly. We should have done it a long time ago. It's making a huge difference in everyone's quality of life. Now John isn't hearing No! everytime he reaches for something, and I'm free to cook, instead of watch him. We used to have shelves on one side, which he would just unpack onto the floor. And then we had a cupbourd filled with old bottles of cleaners, which he really wanted to explore, so I'd have to hold my foot over it the whole time I was in there, hoping he'd lose interest and go unpack the shelves instead. Either way, there were big messes, and many tears shed. Oh, and the cat food was still in the kitchen. He enjoys feeding the cats, by taking handfuls of cat food and putting them in the dish. But he'd also put handfulls in the garbage, the water dish, on the shelves, stuffed in corners...And then he'd take the catfood filled water and dump it all over his head. Needless to say, cooking was quite the experience in our little kitchen. Now, the catfood is upstairs, in a place he's not allowed into. The shelves are gone - the stuff has been moved to the pantry. The chemical cupboard had been scoured clean, and filled with tupperware. Where the shelves usedto be, we're working to find a chalkboard of some kind, so he can draw and play while I cook. He loves the chalkboard at daycare, so we thought he might like that. So far, it's working out great. He loves that he has access to "the forbidden cupboard" and he likes to play with all the plastic stuff in there. He's much happier and more relaxed. Just can't wait to find a chalkboard!

Anyway, I had better get going. I have a lot of cleaning to do, and we're going to Jer's for dinner in a few hours. I need more hours in each day. There's never enough time.

I know I know,

I need a new picture. I have a bunch at work - I just keep forgetting to e-mail them home.

Thanks for the name inspirations, Adrian. We'll add them to the list, but they're about as far from Joan as possible, so i don't think Mike will approve. I'm not big on Joan. Anything but Joan!

Not too sure about this new baby anymore. The flutters have stopped, and I had some bleeding and achiness on the weekend. I called the on-call doc, and he said it may be the beginnings of a misscarraige, or it may be nothing. I'm just supposed to keep an eye out, and he gave me a number of possible scenarios, and what to do in each case. Hopefully, it's nothing. The bleeding stopped later the same day, which is probably a good sign. The flutters, I know I'm not supposed to worry about - it's really early to be feeling them anyway. They don't come everyday this early on, no matter what, and it could be kicking the back right now, or hovering in the middle, or something like that, where I can't feel it. I have an appointment next week - hopefully he'll be able to find the heartbeat again.

John's doing great. Not sure what we're doing about a snowsuit, Gram. He has one my aunt sent him last year that actually still fits. It has snap-on booties, though, but all my online moms say i need real snow boots. Problem is, i can't find snow boots in his size. I don't even know what size he'd be, but everything out there looks too big. Maybe I'm just looking in the wrong place? The snowsuit won't fit him for the whole winter - it fits him right now, so it won't last more than a couple months. What he could use right now is long-sleeved shirts, if anyone stumbles into any. The goodwills and used stores have been picked clean, it seems. It's getting too chilly for short sleeves, though his babysitter keeps the place pretty warm - she wanders around the house in bare feet and shorts.

I have a bad cold - kind of the reason I'm writing. I can't talk. I have actually lost my voice. I thought that was a myth. It was completely gone this morning. If I tried really hard, I could make a few squeaks. Mike thought it was hilarious. He figured he'd be calling in sick for me for sure, but by the time I left for work, I could be more or less understood for a few minutes at a time. But after that, it all breaks down and i can just whisper, and it gets to be very, very painful. It feels like I'm yelling at the top of my lungs just to get anything out, and I must be doing damage when it gets to that point, because my entire throat has gone numb otherwise, so to feel that much pain through the numb is probably a bad sign. It was fantastic for doing interviews today. Oh, and I've lost a good chunk of my hearing too - everything's a little fuzzy and muffled. Yup, deaf and dumb. How great is that? So, I'm sitting in silence now, and just writing, because I figure that's about all I can do without causing damage to my vocal cords. Thankully, tomorrow is production day - although I do have to drag myself to work, with luck, I can just sit at my desk and lay out or proof pages all day - no talking or listening required. Maybe after that I can take a sick day, if I'm still feeling this sick.



At least John hasn't gotten it!!! (knock on wood)

well baby...

John had his well-baby check-up today.

He's huge! He's grown more than two inches and three pounds since his first birthday. At that check-up, he had grown a couple inches as well, but only two ounces. The doc said not to worry that one time, but if the same growth rate happened again at this check-up, he'd call a pediatrician in to assess him.

Thankfully, that wasn't needed! He's 25 pounds now, and stands about two feet nine inches tall.

He got two shots as well, which I wasn't expecting. One I can't pronounce - have no idea what it was for. The other was chicken pox, and he gave me a choice on that one. It's kind of a controvercial one - I'd heard that it wears off when they become teens, then they catch it and it's much, much more severe.

The Doc said that isn't true at all - it gives lifelong immunity. He may still get shingles, but you can say that about anyone who's had chicken pox. And even if the vaccine doesn't work, he'll get such a mild dose of chicken pox, it won't be a concern. He said it's been a routine vaccine in Japan for more than 25 years, and the adults who had it aren't getting chicken pox, so it's proven to be an effective vaccine. It all sounded good to me, so I said OK. I'm sure the anti-vacine lobby will be very disappointed in me, and will accuse me of helping to fuel some drug-resistant super-bug, but at least John will be able to keep up on his school work during that week or two when everyone else in school is home sick with chicken pox.

A fun thanksgiving

Way too cold to do this now! This is from Mike's parents' visit - they took him, with a cold, to the splash pad in the park. Though the fun probably did his cold more good than staying cooped up inside.

Well, I haven't updated in a while, so I guess I should have lots to say.

John has been very blue lately. Mike has been transfered to London for two weeks, and John is clearly in distres over it. It seems there was a huge wave of resignations over the strike out there - lots of bitterness - so they had to bring in a huge crew to help them catch up. He gets crazy overtime, gets to live in a hotel, and gets a cash per diem way larger than what he could possibly ever use, so it's like a cash bonus. We thought it would be great for us, because the daily grind of him working 80 hour weeks, and me full time, and trying to do everything myself was really wearing both of us down. I miss him and all, but life is easier for both of us - I don't have to eat dinner at 10 p.m. He doesn't have to wait for the bathroom, and he gets a big hot breakfas, including eggs and pancakes complimentary at the hotel. He's in heaven, and I'm getting more rest, so it's good for us.

John, however, is not so thrilled. He's spent the last week wandering aimlessly around the house yelling "Da!...Da!...Da!" Clearly, he's searching for Dad. Times when they normally play are the worst. In the mornings, Adrian comes down the stairs and goes for work, usually while I'm dressing John in the living room. When John hears the footsteps coming down, the gets so excited! He tears away from me,and runs, often buck naked, up to the glass door, which blocks off stairs going up. As the footsteps come closer, he gets more and more excited. He jumps up and down. He squeals. Then, he sees that it isn't dad. His face falls. His body slumps. He wails. It's just miserable to watch.

For the first week, he wouldn't sleep. He woke up in the night, and clearly wanted to be held, so I'd bring him back to bed with me, only to have him get even more upset, because Dad wasn't in bed, like normal. Mike thought it might help to explain to him where he was, so I tried, and the second I said the word "Dad," John jumped up, his face aglow, and tore into the den, where Dad can normally be found. He found an empty chair and came back screaming.

Thankfully, Mike was given Sunday off. He got home Saturday evening, and they spent plenty of time cuddling, which made John's day. On Sunday, we spent the whole day together. They played hide and go seek in the morning (John's favourite game). At noon, Jer and Tiffany picked us up, and we stopped by the World's Fair. We were only there for a half hour or so - just long enough to see the chickens! You had to see John's face, as Dad showed him all the different kinds of chickens and ducks and roosters and geese and pidgeons. His mouth hung open and i don't think he blinked the entire time!

Then, we went to a town near London, for Thanksgiving dinner. There was a 12 month old girl there, which was pretty fun! John hasn't seen a baby younger than him in a long time - both kids in daycare are older. It was pretty fun watching them interact.

Before dinner, they were both happy exploring. John, true to his ways, collected pine cones for us. First he brought them to me. Then, when I had about 7 of them, he transfered them one by one to Mike, who was stuck holding them all. Not to be outdone, I eventually got a handfull of dead grasses he had collected for me. For those who haven't seen it, John is a great collector of like objects. When we walk home from the store, he stops to pick up leaves. During our last trip to the park, twigs were the "it" item. Other parents look at him very strangely, but I think it's quite bright of him to pick out all the same things like that. I was very impressed by the pine cones, because there weren't many of them, so he really had to hunt. He'd be a hoot at an east egg hunt, but knowing him, he'd come back with a basket of dandilions or something.

After dinner, I brought out the toys, and was an instant baby magnet. It was so funny watching them. John dumped all of his Duplo out on the floor, and then, instead of, you know, maybe building something, they each started this mad scramble to collect as many pieces for themselves as possible. Then they played with the pieces they had each collected, but were not at all happy playing out of the same pile. Then the larger toys came out and the same thing happened. They played tug-of-war over the phone many times. At one point, John saw Kylie going for the phone, so he picked up his little bead thing - the one where you have to push the beads along the wires. He actually gave that to her - put it right on her lap - and took the phone for himself. It was hilarious. It was a very primal form of play, I guess. Whatever looked like the most fun at that instant, both had to have.

We headed home, and Mike spent that night here too. He headed back early the next morning. John's taking the separation much better this week. It's like he understands that dad still exists, and he's coming back eventually, just like he came back the last time.

John is becoming quite bright. He can understand some of the things we say. Like, I say, take this to dad, and he does. Or bring me your cup, and he does. It's just little things, but we think it's pretty impressive. He has a small vocabulary of his own, but it's hard for anyone but us to understand him. He says baby, cat, hi, bye-bye and red, and what I think is down. Mike taught him red. He doesn't use them all the time, but they do come out. He copies our tones, which is really cute. He'll pick up one of his books and follow the words with a finger, jabbering gobbledygook, but in the same sort of rhythmic tone Mike and I use when we read the stories. It's so cute! He's very big on books right now. He likes to turn the pages and point at the pictures. One is a book of nursery rhymes, including Humpty Dumpty. I read it to him, and pointed out Hunpty Dumpty in the picture. Then he flipped to the front cover, where there were pictures of all the characters in the book. I asked him to find Humpt Dumpty, and he pointed right at him! Isn't he smart?

He's developed a bizarre obsession with one particular blanket - his pink knitted one. If he's fussy, I pull out this blanket, and he settles right down. He pulls it around the house, wherever he goes. He won't sleep without it. This is normal, right? It came out of nowhere, and it's a blanket he hasn't used very much in his life until now. He just pulled it out of the clean laundry pile one day, and they've been together ever since. Very strange, but I'm going with it for now. It appeared at the same time that Mike left, so I'm thinking they might be related.

On the new baby front, all seems well. For those who don't know, I'm due April 4. Mike was a little bothered at first that it's so close to his own birthday, but now he seems to think it's kind of cool.

I can feel the baby move now, which is a huge comfort. Every couple of days, I get a little flutter. Now and then I'll get a really big flutter, or lots and lots of little flutters, but mosly just a tiny flutter here and there. I didn't tell Mike at first, because I didn't think he'd believe me, and say it was just gas like last time, but he was actually really happy when I finally did tell him. And it's not gas! I know the difference from experince now - this is most definitely the baby.

Now the dreaded hunt is on for a girl's name that we both like. Mike is still stuck on Joan, but he has yet to find anyone else who likes it.

I need to know women's names on my side of the family - I know grandparents, but we need great grandparents, great aunts. Anything back there to help broaden the pool a little. Anyone? Names please!?

Anyway, I had better get going. John has found his way into a closet, and who knows what he may encounter in there.