quick, between chore post

Well, i have a couple minutes, and just don't feel up to washing another dish or packing another box, but both kids are occupied, so thought I'd stop in and update super-quick.


The house still isn't sold, but there's quite a bit of interest on it. We had an open house, and a couple of people from that were very interested, but both felt the price was too high. It turns out that's the common theme from everyone who expresses a genuine interest in our house. So, we've lowered the price. By $15,000. I know it's a lot, and we aren't very happy about it. But if that's what it takes, so be it. We need it sold, like, yesterday. But I think we're going to be pretty firm, and expect our asking price. I think we've compromised enough for these cheap bastards already.

The kids are doing well, but Joan is sick yet again. she's on day two of a fairly high fever. She can't eat, and does nothing but sleep all day, which is what she's doing now. John has a bad cough, and says he's really sick, but the only evidence is the cough, so I think he's exaggerating. Unless he has bronchitis or something, and I'm just being too hard on him. But he has no fever. He's been in full Dr John mode for Joan's flu. He does little check-ups on her, and prescribes her medicine (Tylenol). He strokes her head while she's taking it, and assures her it won't hurt. It's very cute. He's so funny. He decided he wanted to make everybody chocolate milk the other day, so I got all the stuff out for him, and let him have at it. It was hillarious. He mixed his own perfectly. I got a cup of straight chocolate syrup, with a dollop of milk, and even Joan got a tiny splash of chocolate milk in a little glass. She didn't drink it, but I held the cup up to her mouth, to make him feel good. he was so proud! it took me a while to clean up the gooey chocolatey mess it all created, but it's the thought that counts.

The big concern these days is his attitude towards dad. He's so mad! We've had several conversations like this:

"Are you excited that dad's coming back?"
"No. I'm mad at him."
"Why are you mad at him?"
"He hurt my feelings."
"How did he hurt your feelings?"
"Calgary."

The other night, he wanted to read "I'm a Big Brother" - it's a book he likes about a big brother and his baby sister, that my parents sent for him when Joan was born. The last page is the happy family at the park, and he went through each figure in turn, relating it to his own family.

"Look, mom. There's the John, and that's the baby, and that's the mom. That's like you!"
"And what about that guy over there," I say, pointing to the dad. "Who's that?"
Silence.
"Isn't that the dad?" I ask.
"No. That's a big ugly bug."

The teachers at school mentioned today how incredibly happy he's been lately. I mentioned that he's not like that at home, and relayed some of the things he's been saying about dad,and the anger he's been expressing.
"Ah, we've been wondering when that would kick in," they say.
However, he hasn't said a word about it at school. They think he's probably using school as an escape from the chaos and confusion at home - it's a constant he can rely on. Boy, I hate to pull him out of there! He had cheered up when I first told him about Christmas. He spent the next few days saying how much he loved and missed dad, and how excited he was to see him. But that wore off - I think it took too long for dad to actually materialize, so now he's back to being bitter. We're trying different things to help. Last night, I marked off on the calendar all the days we've passed through so far this month, then circled the day dad gets here. Every day, we'll mark off another day. It seemed to cheer him up. He's seen the video of the new apartment. He seems to like that. "Look, our new bathroom! Look, that's our kitchen!" I've gone online to find him pictures of Calgary. I'm not sure what else to do.

An interesting tidbit - if you're ever in a Zellers, and there's an announcement of a "code yellow" over the PA, it means someone has lost their kid. Discovered that one the hard way. I took John to suit him up with new winter gear - we were trying to hold off until we got to Dryden, but we got a huge, huge snowstorm on Saturday (the day before our open house - figures). So we had no choice. He had a warm jacket, hat and mitts, and Mike's grandma sent him a new scarf that he likes. But he said his boots were too tight, and the school requires snow pants, because they like to take the kids outside, and he had none.

Shoe shopping with John is always a breeze - he loves picking out new shoes. I always try to make sure he's there to pick out his own, because he enjoys it so much. The kids' boot isle had boy's boots on one side, girls' on the other. There was a stock girl there at the moment, and John being John struck up a conversation with her right away.
"Look at all these boots, Girl! They are so beautiful!" he said, waving his arms frantically at all the fluffy pink and purple girl boots. While they chatted, I checked out the selection on the boys' side - only two pairs were going to fit him, which I didn't thinkwas going to be enough selection for him. So my plan was to divert him away long enough to get him to another store - the Sears on the other side of the mall. But before I could, he fell in love with a navy blue number over on the boys' side, with twinkly lights, kangaroos and bright yellow trim. Lucky for me, it happened to be one of the two that would fit. He tried them on, loved them, and refused to take them off again. "Oh Mommy! They're so comfy!" he said.

And of course, they were tied together, and of course he wanted to parade around the store on them, so he spent the next few minutes, while we looked for a register, taking little baby steps so the plastic ties wouldn't trip him. I wound up having to put John on the counter so they could scan the boots with his feet still in them. That happens every time I take him shoe shopping.

The next department was where the trouble started. He didn't like the look of those snow pant things one bit! He was having none of that! So while I was picking out one that would match his jacket, he took off! I tried to follow him, but my stroller is big and they pack those racks in so tight at Christmas, he actually got away.

I asked a nearby employee if she'd seen him. "No. Have you lost a child?" I admitted I had, and suddenly, this mission to get him back was mobilized. "Don't worry," she said, very seriously. "We have Code Yellow." It was surreal. With a flip of her hand, three other people came rushing over to jot down a description. An announcement of a code yellow rang out over the loudspeakers, and the little crowd of workers were dispatched around the store to hunt down my kid. The whole thing took maybe 10 seconds before he was discovered sulking in the candy isle. Then everything returned to normal, as though nothing had happened. It was really something to see!

Now it's winter, and the battle over winter gear has begun. I watch these poor moms trying to wrestle their kids into snow gear day after day, and I've decided I'm not going to go down that road. John's been good - he's even worn his snow pants every day this week without a fuss. But today, he snapped, and refused to put ANYTHING on. So I said, OK. So out he went, into the ice and snow, in socked feet and indoor clothes. I got a few horrified glares from the moms, but the dads who saw had a chuckle and cheered me on. It took about three seconds before he was asking for mittens. We weren't even off the school yard before he was putting his boots on. By the halfway mark, he was fully bundled, completely of his own choosing. No wrestling required, and no frostbitten digits. Probably not something I can do in Calgary - though maybe he'd just get dressed that much faster out there!

Anyway, John is here, and wants to play some games. Better go! I'll try to take some new pictures soon!

lots of news!

Ok. Where to start.

THE MOVE

Mike got official approval for time off at Christmas! He gave them three options - they chose option B, which has him off from December 18-28. He's flying here the night of the 17th, then we'll spend the 18 and 19 packing up, then he and John are heading to Dryden in the U-haul. Joan and I have a flight booked for the 20th into Winnipeg - grandparents on the receiving end have been e-mailed our itinerary. If we can finish loading the truck in one day, Mike will head out the 19th, then we'll both arrive in Dryden the same day. Joan and I will be there until the 27th, when we fly out of Winnipeg, but Mike has to leave on the 26th. I was originally supposed to take the train with Joan, but the prices for everything had changed since we looked last time - they actually dropped for the plane. We're not sure how that happened - maybe they switched up to a bigger plane. No idea. It means no stop in Geraldton, which is unfortunate. But it's less travel time overall, which will be nice. For Joan and I, anyway. I know there are some concerns about John in the U-haul, but we think it will be OK. It's split into two legs, and if it's really that bad, we'll get him a plane ticket with me for the second leg. But we think it would be good for him to spend some "quality" one-on-one time with dad and a big truck is a pretty cool place to do that. John has been fluctuating between sad and mad when it comes to dad being gone. It has hit him pretty hard. But we'll play it all by ear.

We had looked into moving with a mover. We got lots of online quotes, and one in-home quote. They were all too high to justify it. The lowest one was $1400, which would have made it cheaper, but it was an estimate of 2,000 pounds. The in-home guy, who actually saw everything, estimated it at 4,000 pounds, with a quote of $4500. And with everything that Vicki just went through, we decided moving ourselves was probably the better plan.


JOAN

Joan had her second physio appointment on Thursday. They were really impressed with her progress, especially considering she had a flu, so we couldn't spend much time on the exercises. They gave me a whole bunch of new stuff to focus on. Lots of tipping her over onto her right side, and forcing her to prop herself up. She doesn't like it - she cries. But they noted that she can actually get herself up from a semi-reclining position on her right, which tells them she has good strength. They said in that case, she isn't crying from pain or discomfort - she's crying out of fear. They compared it to asking someone to get on a bike and ride it for the first time - it's a new thing, with new movements, and it feels very scary at first. But as she gets used to it, she'll start initiating it on her own.

They also showed me how to stimulate her tummy muscles so that she'll pop up on all fours. They told me to keep her up on all fours for as long as she can hack it each day, because it builds tons of muscle, and the "pushing" action is critical for mobility down the road, like getting up off the floor. And if we do it enough, there's actually a chance she will crawl, which is the ideal scenario. They said there are a lot of people walking around that never crawled as babies. But for kids like Joan, it's worth the effort to teach her how, because it builds upper body strength and coordination, which she's lacking. There's still a chance she never will, though. She may just use the strength from these exercises to pull up and walk.

They talked about the braces she'll need. They showed me the hand brace, which is just a soft foam glove, designed to hold her thumb out, because now it's always tucked in. And the harder she works, the tigher she balls her fist, which works counter to the therapy. We may not have enough time ot get one - she didn't have one we could take, because they need to be custom made and fitted to her. But she's going to see what she can do.

The really big news was her foot. She doesn't hold her foot flat, so it's going to be hard for her to bear weight on it. So the physio guy said she's going to need a special orthotic brace. It's a custom-made plastic cast type of a thing, which will hold her leg and foot in perfect allignmnet, therefore forcing the muscles to grow and stretch in the proper way for walking.

The catch? They cost $1,000 each, and because they're form fitted, she needs to get a new one every time she grows. In Ontario, the government will pay 2/3 of the cost. At the time, we weren't sure what Alberta did, if anything, so he rushed around to get us some appointments, but the soonest she could be fitted was January 11. I took it, because at the time, we weren't sure if Mike was able to get the time off over Christmas. If he couldn't, we'd just stay for the fitting. But Mike did get the time off, so I'll have to cancel the whole thing, and have it made in Calgary. Fortunately, we did some looking, and they have a similar program there - the province will pay 75 per cent of the cost, and the cost to individuals is capped at $500/year/family. So it will never cost us more than $500/year, no matter how many of these little braces she goes through. I'll probably do some phoning around to make sure that's really the case. But it seemed pretty clear, so I don't think we have to worry too much. Physio guy said her physio will be covered there, too. They'll set her up through a similar clinic at the Calgary Children's Hospital, so Alberta Health and Wellness pays the tab, which is good to know. The government isn't run entirely by heartless blue robots after all. It sucks that we're moving to the only province in Canada where we even have to wonder if things are covered. But so far, it looks like everything will be OK.

THE HOUSE

Not sure if it's just my experience, or if the entire real estate industry is completely crazy. It's filled with spazy people. We had one showing that our agent didn't even tell us about. I went outside to go pick up John from school, to two men on the porch expecting to be let in. They had an appointment. I didn't know, so the beds weren't made, and the dishes weren't done. It was very embarrassing. We've had agents come so late, that I've left for the showing, then come back, and THEN they arrive. My favourite one was the agent who arrived half an hour early to let me know he couldn't make it, but his client was still coming, so could I please stick around. He even picked out things that I was to point out to his client. I did the whole showing. If he buys it, I expect part of the commission. Hopefully, it will sell very, very soon, because this really, really sucks. We're having an open house next weekend - maybe something will come from that.

Anyway, John wants to play, so I'd better get going!
A note from John:
ssffffhkkl;;'[ihgffdffhhuk;;;;;;;;;;ppouuuuuu;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;////////;;;;;;;/////////;;;;/////////

a three household household...

We've been apartment hunting in Calgary on and off for the last little while. It was a little early to really start, but Mike found a gem. So he toured it, applied for it, and won it, all in one day. Boy, things move fast out there!

We had originally planned to hunt together, but this place looks like a real find, so we kind of had to nab it. It means having a house and two apartments for a month, but that's life, I guess.

It's half of a little teeny bungalow duplex, but it comes with the full basement underneath it, so lots of storage, a spare bedroom, bringing it to a three bedroom, and a washer and dryer of our own - a big plus with kids. Lots of storage space down there, plus half a double garage. The extra bedroom n the basement can be used if anyone wants to visit - you can have your own room down there. On a daily basis, we might use it as an "escape" room - when the kids start to drive us nuts, we can leave them with the other, and go down there to read. Or just sit in glorious silence. It has a little yard, too. But we don't need that, because there are three parks within a block! One is a shady little kid's playground. The other is a leash-free dog park, but it has a playground inside it, and a big hill, that people use as a toboggan hill in the winter, and a walking type park around a community centre, which is the hub of the neighbourhood association (EVERY neighbourhood in Calgary has a centre and an active association - we're a block from ours.) It has tennis courts and little programs and stuff. It's also near a school. It has full day kindergarten, which might be good, when the time comes, if we're still there. It's $900/month. With utilities, it works out to $100 or so more than we wanted to spend on housing, but it sounds like a better quality of life. Everything else we were looking at were yucky basement apartments. This is soooo perfect for us, and it sounds like a great place for kids. Oh, and they actually have no problem with the kids, or the cats. Most places won't take either. That's right - they can afford to be so picky about tenants in Calgary that most refuse to take families.

The company that manages it posted a video - here's a copy, so you can all see. It's a bit buggy in this format - you might have to keep bumping it along manually, but you get the idea:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWIgm0ZqM7Y

Much, much more to update, but I've got to get dinner and bedtime moving. Joan had a physio appointment yesterday, and I'll try to post about it very soon.

more safari pics!

busy weekend

Just some of the pictures from the Steel City Safari on Sunday - definitely the highlight of a busy weekend. Even though John insisted he didn't want to go, I dragged him anyway, and boy, am I glad I did! The second we walked in, he was in his own little world, darting from display to display, then back here, then over there, and back around again. Notice him not looking into the camera in any of the shots - I may as well have not been there. I actually lost him in the crowds a couple times. Thankfully, he had a few favourite displays he kept returning to again and again, so I just checked them, and found him every time.

It was a big charity event, where all the local little zoos and conservation type groups - as well as the local reptile store - brought in animals to the convention centre for an afternoon. I expected John to want to stay maybe an hour or two. Almost four hours later, they were shooing us out. I think it was the Hamilton Conservation Authority who brought a hay infusion, and set up a "microscopic safari" with various little swamp crawlies under microscopes. John really liked that one. So much, that when he saw they had packed their equipment, he ran over, threw his body across the bins and pronounced "You can't take them away!" The guy running the station seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm, but he still had to take his crawlies home to the lake. He loved the turtles too. He spent more time there than anywhere else. He enjoyed petting the big snakes, too. He kept following the anaconda around. There was a display of scorpions, which he called lobsters. He looooved the goat petting zoo. I must have spent $8 on little handfulls of food for these goats, who'd probably never eaten so much in their lives. The picture above is John trying to feed a very overfed goat, which was falling asleep. He was also very big on the pony rides. I think he took 5 pony rides by the time it was all said and done. He kept slipping through the gate. He was so excited about the whole thing, I think he missed the part where I had to pay $4 every time. But, it made him so happy, and it all went to charity, so it was $20 well spent. There were birds too. He wasn't too big on the parrots, but he liked the ducks. I was surprised he wasn't excited to see an owl, because he loves owls, but he was a kind of blah about it. But he wouldn't have anything to do with anything furry. Probably because almost everything furry was something big and scary, like wolves and lions. No interest in those at all. But frogs and snakes and turtles and bugs? They were awesome! All in all, a really fun time. I'm glad was able to take him to that. Just wish dad was there!

On that note, the cat is out of the bag. I resigned form my job at the Review on Friday, so now it's public knowledge that we're on our way to Calgary. It was a sad thing. As much as being a working mom was tough, I'm going to miss my job a lot. My paper was in this kooky little town that reminds me so much of Dryden. It was like being home. I'm not going to miss the gruelling slog of day-to-day life with little kids and a full-time job, and the futile hunt for the perfect work-life balance. But I'll miss the people and the personalities and all the politics of small town life.

On the house front, it's still not sold. I think we're at the one month mark now, with our first open house either this Sunday or next Sunday. We're hoping it will sell before we move, which should be around Christmas, if all goes as planned.

As for Joan, she has John's stomach flu. Fever, vomiting, the whole thing. She seemed overly crabby, though. She wasn't eating or sleeping for couple days and I'd caught her picking at her ear, so I scooted her up to the Doc on Monday morning, while I still had a car, to have her checked out. She did have an ear infection, so it was a good call. She's on her first round of banada-flavoured antibiotics. I'm glad I took the flavoured kind, because even with all the sugar, she hates it. Even John says it smells yucky. But she seems to be getting better. She's sleeping better, at least, and she's not so pale.

While I was there, the doc mentioned the stroke. He said he was completely floored when he read the letter from the pediatrician. He said that never even crossed his mind. It's things like that that make me glad I live in a city - our doctors aren't any better than northern doctors - they just have more resources to draw from.

Anyway, better go! Mike should be home from work by now, so I should give him a call. They have him on this horrible noon-8 shift. It'll be fine when we're all there, but the two hour time difference means he's getting home very late for me. It's no fun.

Joan's physio

Sorry for the late update, everyone. I started writing this last night, but Joan woke up, and one thing led to another, and it got put off.

Yesterday was Joan's physio day. It was, in a word, awesome! What a cool little facility! It's an entire little building devoted to kids with problems like Joan's, filled with therapists who specialize in babies and kids. It was very, very cool.



We met her little team for a two hour assessment. (Man, was I glad John had a sitter for that!) She has a physio student, a physiotherapist, and an occupational therapist. They asked a lot of questions, took a lot of notes, talked to each other in physio-ese, which I didn't understand, and sent us on our way with a few more appointment dates, and a bunch of things to do with her in the meantime.



It was very neat watching them work. It looked to me like they were just goofing around and playing with her, but they were actually testing for very specific things. At one point, the physio guy was swinging her back and forth, singing her a song, and I thought he was just trying to cheer her up, because she was getting tired and crabby. But then he "sang" to his student to make note of a certain thing one of her legs was doing as he swung her. As they went, they pointed things out to me. Some of it was quite technical. I got a bit of a crash course in anatomy, and how muscles and ligaments work together - all well beyond the scope of my OAC biology - but they dumbed it down fairly well for me.



So, what did they say? In a nutshell, she's going to be OK. She's way, way more mobile than most kids they see with this condition. They said most never open their fists, and can't physically move their arms - they just keep them clamped up to their sides. So it's like we're starting with a huge head start, which is very good news. They said she has good range, and good function- they just need to get it to the next level. The goal isn't to make her right-handed, because that isn't realistic or necessary, but to make her right hand a useful supporting hand. And they said by watching her, that's entirely possible. Physio guy said he sees great things in her future, and thinks that with therapy, she'll be able to lead a completely normal life.



The stroke DID affect her right leg, but less dramatically than her arm. It displays "toning" I think they called it, which is caused by a stroke - when her good side is working hard, she tenses her bad side - she curls her toes and balls her fist. It's one of the things they have to work on. That's where the hand brace comes into play.



In terms of time, we're looking at years. They said it's about goals - both our goals for her and her own goals for herself, as she gets older. Right now, the goal is to get her using her right arm, and get her to bear weight on it, to build up the muscle. Then, the goal will be to get her mobile - she'll probably need extra help learning how to walk. Maybe climbing will be another goal. Later down the road, maybe it will be writing, or sports. She'll keep running into limitations as she grows, and her body is expected to accomplish more, so as those expectations crop up, she may need more therapy. They said it's slow, and often frustrating, especially at this age, when they don't understand the end goal. But they were all confident she'll get where she needs to be.



They said mentally, she's a "smart cookie." And they said she has a great attitude and temperament - she's happy and easy going, and they were impressed by her drive - that she tries so hard to accomplish, even though it's hard for her. They were very impressed that she's progressed from having a gimpy hand flopping behind her to being able to get up on all fours, all by herself.





This was just an assessment - her first actual appointment isn't for a couple more weeks, then we go every couple weeks as long as we can. That's when they get into the nitty gritty of specific games and exercises. But because we're all eager to get a jump start, they gave me a few things to concentrate on in the meantime. They suggested little games, like putting a sock on her left hand - it forces her to try to get it off with her right hand. He said sometimes, pediatric stroke patients adapt by using their mouths as their second hand, so to make sure she's not pulling it off with her teeth instead. Putting toys in hard-to-reach places is another fun game. She really, REALLY doesn't like that one, but it forces her to stretch her muscles out, and it will force her to bear weight on her right arm, or else she'll fall. She needs to do lots of stretching out, or else the muscles will shorten, and therapy will become even harder. And I'm supposed to position her in such a way that she's forced to support herself with her left hand, so that she has to reach for a toy with her right - that's another exercise. They also told me to keep her from turning her wrists a certain way that she does, because that also lets her muscles shorten. And it's important to turn off all of my mommy instincts to do these things, they said, because she's really not going to like it. They said she's found a happy place - she can sit up and play with stuff, and she does that very well. The stretching is going to be challenging for her, but I can't let her wimp out. She's going to get mad and frustrated. But she needs to get through this to progress to the next step, which is the all-important goal of mobility - she needs to be able to bear weight on her arm to get up off the floor. Sigh. But they also suggested I bring the Jolly Jumper back out, so she'll like that.

I asked if she'll have her good arm put in a sling, like people have been telling me will happen. They said it's actually a splint, and perhaps down the road a ways, but not anytime soon - she's too young and too early in the process for that. And the goal is to have her hands work together like a team, each with its own purpose, so it's a form of therapy they use sparingly, if it's even needed at all.

There were several interesting things she did there that I'd never noticed. She's a good spinner - she can pivot around both on her bum and on her belly. But they discovered she can only spin counter-clockwise. They put toys on her right side, to try to get her to pivot clockwise; she couldn't do it, so she actually spun all the way around to get to the toys. Also, she can't actually change positions, which is something I'd never even really thought about. If she's sitting, she can't get down on her belly - I have to put her there. She's almost able to sit up from belly, but not 100 per cent. Helping her get down on her belly is one of their goals with the stretching exercises - eventually she'll be able to stretch far enough that she'll flop right over.

I told them that she seems to have abandoned crawling altogether - even when she is on her belly, she doesn't even try anymore. Physio guy said that's totally normal. She wants to walk now, so she's concentrating on that. She'll definitely need help, though. If I prop her against furniture, she tries to cruise, but can't get her legs to do their thing yet. I think the Jolly Jumper is supposed to help with that.

That's about it, in a nutshell. It was very informative, and they were very positive and uplifting, and despite a few frustrating games, Joan had a great time playing. It was a very active two hours for her. She was pooped when we left - she fell asleep in her stroller even before we got to the edge of the parking lot!

Other than that, things are chugging along. John is back in school today. I wish he'd gotten more rest yesterday. He stayed home from school, but the sitter was with him for four hours in the afternoon, and she took him from his cozy blanket in front of the TV, and made him walk around the neighbourhood, and go for a drink at a restaurant, and then rake leaves, and play with the neighbours. By the time I got home, he was completely toast, even though I asked her to take it easy on him, because he's just getting over a bad flu. I felt bad dropping him off at school today. He looked pale, and still has a bad cough. But I'm not allowed to miss three days in a row without a doctor's note, because it's a taxpayer funded program, and he's not sick enough to warrant a trip to the doc. So off he went, hacking and spluttering away.

Speaking of John, it's time to head out to pick him up. I'll try to keep you all updated as things go. The next few days are going to be busy, with Jer moving out. I'm stopping by the paper on Friday for a visit, too. That should be an exciting field trip. There's a Steel City Safari event I want to take the kids to this weekend, as well. It looks like a lot of fun - lions and tigers and snakes and things. I think John would enjoy that a lot! I'll take the camera!

that time of year...

It might look like a little too much insulation, but she loved it. It was -1 this morning, so thought I'd better break out the heavy duty winter gear. She's been so fussy in the carriage the past couple days, but fell asleep today - guess she was just cold! Ooops! John's been in hats and mitts and winter coat for some time, because they play outside at school. But he'll need a new pair of boots - the ones from last year are at least two sizes too small.

The teacher pulled me aside again today. They're trying to find ways to motivate John to walk while on little voyages through the neighbourhood. Apparently, he tends to sit on the pavement and refuse to move - so they wind up carrying him, which is of course exactly what he's after. I gave them a couple of ideas of things that I do to keep him moving, and remembered a few more later - I'll have to pass them on tomorrow. Mostly, I suggested to keep dangling carrots in front of him, like "Hey, let's go check out that cool thing over there!" I do a lot of that. It's been easy with Halloween, because we've been hunting for decorations. But Halloween was a while back, now. It's hard to keep a kid motivated to move when there's nothing to see but decaying pumpkins. Some of my tactics wouldn't work - sometimes, we go "choose your own adventure" style, where John gets to choose the path home. He has a very good sense of direction. He always gets us home. We often play hide and seek on the way home. Probably not the greatest idea with nine three-year-olds. But he's made up a game which is essentially red light, green light, which all the kids might find fun, and he likes to pretend to be different animals out for a walk, which they might like, too. I also just leave him behind sometimes. It's a great motivator. But again, probably not the greatest plan with nine kids. And actually, not the greatest plan with John for much longer, either, I think. He's started calling my bluff. We have a sub shop on our way home, and sometimes he likes to stop in, and split a meatball sub and a chocolate milk. He calls it the meatball sandwich store. I let him order, and pay, and then we sit down and have lunch, while we talk about his morning at school. It has big windows, so we can watch diggers and buses and garbage trucks and ambulances and stuff go by, and it's a hopping place, so he gets to watch all of the people coming and going, too. It's cheap, so a lot of workers and cabbies stop there for lunch, so he talks about their cabs and tool belts and big trucks, and lots of them wear boots like dad's. He thinks it's a lot of fun. Well, one day, he wanted to go, but it was raining and cold, so I wanted to go home. So, I said no. Well, he pulled a tantrum, so I kept walking, thinking he would follow me, as usual, only to find him heading the opposite direction, towards the meatball sandwich store! He was totally prepared to go by himself. But it was across the busiest street in town, and I had visions of him getting schmucked. So, I'm ashamed to say, I gave in, and we had lunch at the meatball sandwich store.

Every now and then, he likes to go to convenience stores, too. But I think he goes less for the stuff, and more for the interaction. He's allowed to pick one little treat, like a sucker - if he wants two things, he has to choose between them - and I always get him to go through the sale himself. He puts it on the counter, and pays the money, and takes the change, and says than you, and carries the little bag. John really enjoys it, and the clerks get a kick out of it, too. He never asks for very much - it's always gum, or a chocolate bar or something small, so I don't mind giving in now and then. I think it's a valuable life experience type thing. If both Mike and I drop dead one day, he'll know how to buy chocolate bars all by himself.

His teacher said he's very intelligent and creative and also a very independent thinker, which are all excellent traits, she said. And she said he learns very well, because while the other kids are rushing to try something new, he's hanging back. But it's not that he's shy or nervous - he's actually listening to the instructions. Then he'll go ahead, and know exactly what to do, while the other kids flounder a bit, because he took that time to learn first. She said it's an amazing thing to see. I find that at home too. If we find a new game, I just have to play it once in front of him, and he's got it down. She said he reminds her a lot of her own son, who was very much his own little person. "He's a kid after my own heart," she said. She said the other kids are her little "yes men" and do everything they're told, which is nice and cute, but she loves kids like John who have minds of their own, and aren't afraid to use them. It was a nice conversation. I can tell by watching him with the rest of the class that he's different from his peers, but it was nice to be told that that difference is actually a good quality. It made me feel a lot better.

Here's a few John anecdotes from the last few days, for your amusement:

The tooth fairy is a predominant figure in preschool TV and books. But John doesn't quite understand the full meaning, beyond the knowlwdge that money and the taking of things is involved when you lose a tooth. Last night, he pulled some piece of food goo out of his mouth. He assumed that must be a tooth, and put it under his pillow, pronouncing that it would change into coin overnight, and then the tooth fairy would come and take the coin, and "put it with all her other shiny things; gold, coins, diamonds, everything! away in her tunnel." I didn't correct him. This could save me a lot of money down the road.

Joan is of course still in that stage where everything goes in her mouth, which is running parallel to a phone obsession. As a result, phones are winding up in her mouth. John saw her do this yesterday, and promptly took the phone away, pronouncing "That not food, Baby! That's a telephone!" I told him that when he was Joan's age, he used to eat telephones, too, to which he folded his arms, stuck his nose in the air and replied "No, Mom. I eat lunch."

A couple of days ago, there was a bit of construction going on along our path home. A couple of guys and a digger were taking down an old bus shelter. John was transfixed, and wanted to watch for a while, so we did. One of the guys took a real shine to John, and kept coming up to talk to him, explaining step-by-step what they were doing and why, which was a really nice thing for him to do, I thought. After a while, John turned to me and said "I want to be a construction worker when I grow up! I want to drive a digger and be really dirty."

"You do?" I asked.

"Why not?" said John, shrugging his shoulders.

The worker was close enough to hear John say it. He started to laugh, and said "Kid, you should try to be something better than this."

John has not been put off, however. It's been two days, and he STILL wants to be a construction worker when he grows up. (Why not?)

Anyway, better go. I think Joan just pooped.

Joan update

Sorry - this is going to be short.

Finally, finally got a call from the "children's developmental rehabilitation program" - doesn't that sound serious - that Joan is scheduled for an assessment, November 13. She and I will be meeting both the physiotherapist and the occupational therapist - yes, two therapists - assigned to her. They'll be spending about an hour putting her through a series of tests, to figure out how they need to progress. Very good news - I was worried they'd forgotten about us. Not sure what to do about John. My instinct is to get a sitter, so I can focus on Joan. The last thing I need is a bored, grumpy preschooler having a meltdown during something as important as Joan's physio.

She's doing great, by the way. She's working herself so hard, trying to pull up! She is coming close, but it's hard for her. But she's making so much progress all by herself. The other day, she wanted to grab a shiny piece of foil, but had a cracker in her hand. So, instead of dropping the cracker, she passed it to her right hand, then picked up the foil with her left. She did it again when she wanted the phone - she dropped the cracker, then passed the foil to her right hand, and picked up the phone with her left. Yesterday, she was playing with a noisy wrapper. She held it steady with her left hand, while she wiggled it around with her right to make a crinkle noise. She sure thought that was funny! And this morning, the most exciting thing of all - she grasped one of my fingers in her right hand! She even had a choice of what hand to use. It was really cute, actually - she held my hand steady with her left, them grasped a finger with her right.

John's doing well, too. His teacher was helping me get him dressed in the cloak room, and said. "I don't know how you handle this guy. He's as smart as a whip, but he's soooo stubborn!" She said he really keeps her thinking, because he's wise to all of her tricks to divert and distract him. But, she says, she loves teaching "challenging kids," because they force her to be creative. Yup, my kid is "challenging". Sigh. I just hope he has teachers in real school as great as her, or he may run into some trouble.

He had a cool Dad dream last night. They worked together to catch a ghost, by luring it into a net with cherries, then they scared it out of the house.

Anyway, better go.

xz

A note from Joan, who won't keep her hands off my keyboard:

yghhhhytfrbfdaew
h 7 mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
./.b jk , l
................. . nb ..............\].\
] kkkkkkkkkkkkkkj uuuuu u
8i pi k; l......................,,mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmiy
gfffffffffffffffffffffff gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg .

jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

quick note

Just got a call from the physiotherapy clinic - Joan is getting fast tracked through the system, because of our situation, and should be able to start therapy next week! I had to do a long phone interview, and they'll take that, along with the doc's notes, and a panel will be meeting on Monday to discuss a course of action for her. The nurse said I should get a call shortly after with her treatment schedule. Unfortunately, the physio clinic is at Chedoke, on the mountain, not Mac, so it may be a pain to get there. But we'll work something out.

No word yet on the MRI, but with the speed everything else has been moving, I should be getting that call soon, too.

How phobias are born

The photo feature is back up! I like this picture, except for the chocolate ring around John's mouth, and the pooped out look on Joan's face. But I still think it's cute.

It was a day of ups and downs. I decided to check in on John at school today. He had a great day! Every Wednesday, they have an artist come and do creative things with the kids. At the end of class, John was busy at work with her, one-on-one, building a tower out of various cardboard boxes and coloured tape. He was so proud, he came over to me, took my hand and led me back to meet the lady, and see his tower. It was great.

We got a little newsletter today, which was nice. It explained their teaching method. They call it "emerging curriculum". In a nutshell, the kids' interests direct the curriculum. Obviously, in an all boy class, the curriculum is very vehicle heavy, which is where the idea for the fire station field trip came about. Makes sense to me. It's so fun to see the effects of school infiltrating him. He's started to use one of the teacher's favourite sayings "we rock!" He's also expressing his feelings very well. Today, he was trying to play one of the preschool games on the cbc kids website, but couldn't get the mouse to move the way he wanted. So he sat down and said "I can't get it to work. I'm upset."

After school, we headed home for some lunch and a little rest. Then came the first of many trips we'll be taking to Mac for Joan - this time to get the bloodwork done. The bus went well. There's so little outdoor walking involved, it wasn't an issue. John thought the hospital was a pretty cool place, even though we wound up walking what felt like miles to find the right clinic. Once we got there, we barely had to wait, even though they had a giant sign apologizing for long wait times, and being short staffed. Besides, they had toys and a dinosaur book in the waiting room, so John didn't even notice. But that's about where the happiness ended.

I had warned John that Joan was going to be scared, and that she was going to cry, but I don't think it registered, until things got underway. He watched in horror as they tied the elastic around her arm. His jaw really dropped when a second technician came to pin her arm down, and the first, who seemed so nice until then, jabbed a pointy thing into his sister's arm, causing blood curdling shrieks to ring out far and wide. Not to mention the dripping blood all over her arm. The technician had a heck of a time keeping the needle in her tiny little vein, so she kept having to wiggle it around to find it again. With every wiggle, you'd think we were trying to kill Joan from the shrieks she let out. It was horrible. They took eight big vials, which seemed like a lot of blood from such a tiny body. When it was finally over, Joan burried her face in my neck, and sobbed big sobs, while John just stared, slack-jawed and dumbfounded, with fingers firmly planted in his ears. It took a minute to calm everyone down, but just as I did, the technician who had pinned her came back with tape, to hold the cotton ball in place. Poor little kid started screaming and flailing all over again, like the boogy man himself was trying to touch her. John, the protective big brother he is, was also upset by her reappearance, and yelled "go away, doctor! You hurt Baby!"

I don't think Joan will have any memory of today, but I'm pretty sure John will never see people in lab coats the same way ever again. I felt so terrible, I let him have both a donut and an ice cream cone at the hospital cafe. Sugar heals all wounds, right?

Anyway, the process is underway. I'm assuming the next real hurdle will be the MRI, which thankfully, should only be hard on me.

On a humorous note, I saw a little glimmer of Mike in John the other day. I was cleaning in the bedroom, when I heard a BOOM, followed by "Mom! That was close! That was really, really close!" coming from the stairwell. John had found a flattened cardboard box, sat on it, and slid all the way down the attic stairs, toboggan-style. I said "John, you could have been really hurt!" To which he answered: "But I'm not hurt at all! Look - I'm safe." Can you say "like father, like son?"

It's all in Joan's head

Sorry no new picture - that part of the site has crashed.

Joan's hand. Where to start.

Doctor's appointment was productive, but saddening. Turns out, she's nost likely had a mini stroke. Typically, this happens in utero, though she had a particularly violent birth, so there's a chance it happened then, too.

She said baby strokes are a whole different thing from strokes in the elderly. It doesn't mean she's going to keep having them. It would have been a one off thing, caused by some set of circumstances, that won't happen again. They don't know what those circumstances may have been. It shouldn't affect her mentally, because there's so much brain development happening. the brain compensates for it. If an area is damaged, the neurons will just form elsewhere.

We discovered it in a typical way. Parents think it "appears" around 6 or 7 months, but in reality, it was there all along - it's just becomes obvious around that time, because that's when they start to sit up and play with stuff.

Lucky for us, it's currently an area of study at Mac right now, so there happens to be all the resources right in town.

So now, we begin a long process. Because it's being studied, the doc has to follow a prescribed course of action. First is a set of bloodwork, largely to rule out any genetic abnormalities. She's pretty confident that she's clear of those, because we'd see a dramatic developmental delay by now. And although she is delayed, it all seems to be physical, probably because she's in effect missing an arm. Mentally, she seems all there, and on track. That bloodwork starts right away. I have to take her to the hospital today to get that ball rolling.

We and the results will be sent to a hemotologist. She said something about testing for possible blood disorders, and there's a remote chance this could be the first of many strokes, so I guess that's what that doctor does.

Then she needs an MRI of her head, to see where the stroke took place, and what kind of damage it caused. She said typically, they find a very small scar. But there's a chance it may have caused extensive damage. They won't know anything until the MRI is done. She'll need to be put right under for the procedure, so we need to see an anesthesiologist ahead of time, and the day of the test will probably be very stressful. I'm thinking I'll hire a sitter for John that day. I'll have enough to fret about without wondering what John's up to.

Then we start months and months of physiotherapy. They'll probably build a little tiny brace to hold her hand open, and go from there.

Obviously, there's a time issue involved, which we all know about, so there's no need to discuss it here. The doc is aware too, and said it should all happen very quickly, so not to be too worried. She's going to have a full medical team taking care of her, and they'll do what they can to make sure all it all happens as seamless as possible. The family doctor said that pediatricians have a special status in the hospital. They tend to get what they want, when they want it, so hopefully, it really will move fast.

She said just from watching her, the chances of a full recovery are quite good. She does have good function and tone in her arm. She does use it - it's just a matter of bringing it back on par with a typical hand and arm. It will never be her dominant side - she'll stay a lefty. But she thinks her functon could be pretty close to 100 per cent. I have noticed her use it much more in the last few weeks. She's using it to feel things now. She strokes things, which she never used to do. And she does use it as a supporting hand to hold heavy things, and while we were in the office, she passed her health card from her left hand to her right, which is quite a triumph for her! So I think it could all end up being fine. It's never good to start out life with a scarred brain. But I guess what's happened has happened. Now it's just getting her the best care we can.

New pictures

Took some new pictures last night while the kids played - these are a few of the best ones.

And a special bonus - a little video of Joan laughing!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYHchrjZC98

Ugh

This is so how I feel right now.

I have returned from a gruelling four hour treck, to drag two crabby kids to the doctor. Today was the first time I really, truly cursed not having a car available to me.

Joan's appointment was set for 11:45 - school lets out at 11:15. To be prudent, i picked John up early, his lunch in tow, for the exciting adventure to the pediatrician, to find out why the heck Joan's not using her right hand. To be safe, I picked him up at 11, and had my bus route all planned out. I had Joan in her carrier, and I brought the umbrella stroller for John, because it's lightweight and compact, so it's good on the bus, and folds up in case he wanted to walk instead.

So the planning on my end was perfect. What I didn't plan for was a major dose of the grumpies with John. He didn't want to go on the bus. He didn't want t ride in the stroller. He didn't want to walk. He wanted to be carried, like the baby. He spent so much time spread eagle, face down on the pavement, we missed our bus. And the next bus. When I finally got him ON the bus, he was crabby. He didn't like it. Some of the lights were burnt out, and it was too spooky. It was too bumpy. Everything was wrong. When we got to our transfer point, he had a major blow-out. The trip was taking too long. It's too far. Everything was wrong. He wanted to sit on a bench. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see the birds. He wanted to do everything but listen to me. It was infuriating!

The doctor is maybe a 10 minute drive from the school, if you include the hunt for parking. On paper, it's a 20 minute bus ride. It took us a whopping hour and a half to get there. Of course, by the time we get there, the doctor is off on hospital rounds, and isn't coming back again. So, I now have an appointment for MONDAY, when I get to do it all...over...again.

So we turned right around, and headed home. It took us TWO HOURS to get home. It took a long time, because I decided to make the most of it, by stopping at Gore Park to show John the swarms of pigeons. Joan and I flopped on a bench, while John chased them around the park. Then we got a bun and fed them for a little while. It was a lot of fun, and helped salvage a very bad experience. The bus ride home was fun, too. John was too pooped to fight back anymore, and we were riding with some sort of class outing, of about 15 grade 5ish boys. They were quite taken by Joan. They all wanted to come touch her hands and cheeks, and were all competing to make her smile. Unfortunately, she was tired, and not very smiley, but they all ooohed and ahhhed when she nodded off. Boys are so cute with babies. Mike thinks I should have been much harsher with John, but frankly, it wasn't his fault. He was tired from school - he needed a little veg time at home between school and the doctor. We don't have to be there until 2 on Monday, so it should work out better.

So I'm sorry I have nothing big to report, other than the pigeons were fun. Oh, and that I'm SO taking a taxi to the doctor on Monday!

A proud mommy moment

Just got back from dropping John off at school, and had to share.

One of the teachers came up and stopped me just before I left, and said "you have one smart little cookie on your hands!"

It was first thing in the morning, and the only cookie in my hands at the time was Joan. I wondered how she could tell a baby was smart just by locking at her, but then she started talking about John. Obviously, he didn't get his brains from me!

So it turns out what everyone has been saying is true - he's very bright. She had started by asking him his colours, and when he got every one right she just kept on going. She spent half an hour one-on-one, with test after test, and he knew everything she threw his way. "It was absolutely amazing," she said. He knew his colours, he could count not only Lego blocks in a tower, but could count the little knobs on top. He knew the difference between a fat Lego tower and a skinny Lego tower. He could tell her which tower was taller, which tower had more blocks, and even which tower was different from the rest. She said I should be very proud. :-)

She said what they're working on with him is finding ways to express himself. He knows his emotions, but they're trying to get him to express why he feels a certain way. I didn't know they were doing that, but I've noticed it popping up at home. He'll tell me how he feels, and when I ask why, I'm actually starting to get a reasonable response, instead of just a tantrum. Like, he says he's sad, and it's because I'm walking too fast for him, or I left him alone in a room, or whatever other atrocities I perform on a regular basis. Or he's scared because the closet door is open. He's definitely getting easier to deal with, and it's keeping him a lot calmer, because I can fix the problem, or apologize. He still has his share of tantrum moments, but I have definitely noticed a shift in him. What a great program!

School daze

John, heading out with mom and dad on his first day of (pre)school! (with his Tatonka backpack from Boffo!)

One of the biggest changes to our life lately has been John starting school. It's actually the Best Start universal preschool program - a 2.5 hour, five-day-a-week program funded by the province through the city. Needless to say, he LOVES it. He was so ready for school, and it's just the right amount of time for a little guy. He comes home pooped, but with lots of stories to tell about "the boys." He loves it so much, weekends have become a very dark time for him. One Saturday morning, he even tried to convince me to take him to school, because the school would be lonely.

It's held at our local school, which would normally be convenient, but our school has been torn down for rebuilding, so he's in the holding school, which is a slightly longer walk. I'm getting lots of exercise! So far, it's seven kids - all boys, with three more working their way through the system. Unfortunately, there's a lot of red tape involved, so if you aren't willing to push, and can't find the right person to call, it could take a long, long time to get in. But apparently, they only need seven kids to secure the program funding, so the teachers are delighted. They both get to keep their jobs!

It's a really great program, and apparently, John is doing well. His first day, one of the teachers said he was "an absolute joy" and really funny. They also said he was extremely good at sharing. Though I found out later that they may have meant in relation to where they thought he would be. One of the teachers told me a couple weeks later that they were very concerned about John before they met him, because he's the only oldest child in the class, and had been an only child (gasp!) for most of his life, so they were anticipating a rough social adjustment for him. So they were really pleased when he turned out to be so kind and sociable. All the others are babies - some of quite large families - so he's definitely the odd man out. And boy, does it show.

We're allowed to peek, so I go early some days to see what he's up to. I've discovered that it's a very bad feeling when your kid is the class freak. He's definitely inherited his dad's "free spirit" genes. One day, they were playing with giant blocks, as a group. Class was ending, so the teacher said "Ok, everyone, let's clean up the blocks!" All the other kids suddenly morphed into a swarm of busy little bees, piling these huge blocks back on the shelf. My kid watched for a minute, then grabbed a cloth and started wiping the blocks. He squealed "I'm cleaning the blocks!" with a look of sheer delight that he had cheated the system, by using the OTHER meaning of clean. Another day, they were playing marching band. Every kid had a cute little instrument - a little drum or a shaker - and they were marching around the room in single file. All of them, except John, of course. He had his little drum, but couldn't care less about the marching band. He was playing with the doll house instead. But as the little band rounded the corner and approached him, he leaped to his feet, spread out his arms and yelled "Stop!! The light is red!!" And this obedient little group actually stopped. And they stayed there, until John announced that the light was green again. And of course, all the other moms were staring at me. I wanted to crawl under my miniature chair and die.

I know he does some bad things. I walked in one day after he had stolen another boy's puzzle. (He looooves puzzles - they have the rigid wooden kind, which are easier to handle, and apparently he plays with them constantly.) At daycare, he would have gotten a time out. Here, he got a deep discussion about feelings, and how he had made the other boy feel sad. It seemed to hit home. John looked like he was about to cry.

I try not to go early a whole lot anymore. It's too embarrassing. But they say he's doing well, and I'm going to trust them. I know they do discuss problems with the other moms, like not listening and stuff like that, but every time I ask they say John's doing great. I guess that's really why they have this class - not for them to be perfect pupils, but to teach proper classroom behavior before getting to a real classroom. It's not exactly natural behavior for a 3-year-old. But he seems to generally follow the rules. He gets a smock to play in the paint or water stations. He helps tidy up. He uses his "walking feet". I think he's genetically predisposed to being an oddball, but as long as he does well in school later on, I guess that's ok. And they've managed to get rid of that annoying "NO!!!" he used if he didn't like something. They replaced it with a very calm "of course not." As in, "can you put that away, please?" "Of course not." It's the same thing, but it is definitely less annoying, which is a step in the right direction.

It's such a short program, it's actually a big pain in the butt for me to have him in there. Between getting everyone dressed and organized and out the door, and there and back again, it really uses up most of every morning. There was so little interest, they cancelled the afternoon session, and rolled everyone into the morning anyway, so switching timeslots isn't an option either. But the benefit to him way, way outweighs the cons for me. Besides, it's fun hearing all about his day when I pick him up. He likes to talk about his snack. One day, they had milk, cookies and apple. "I didn't eat my apple," he said. "Only cookies." Another day, they had rice crispie squares, but he didn't know what they were called (and I wasn't going to tell him, so he couldn't ask for them!) But for the next two days, I heard all about this mystery cake/cookie/cracker that was "so much yummy!" The other day, I was a little startled when he said they got chips for their snack, until further questioning revealed that the chips came with cheese and "sauce" and were shaped like triangles. In other words, nachos.

Anyway, Joan has become a squirmy worm. I'm going to try getting her to sleep. Hope you all enjoy the new pictures and videos. I know I've kind of been ignoring the blog lately, but I'll try to get back on the ball!

Joan pooping

Ok, I give in...here's the poopy video too. A look at the kids at their worst is better than no look at all! Joan's been a little backed up the last few days, so pooping is a big deal, and quite painful for her. (She's developed a deep love for grilled cheese sandwiches - I think they're the culprit). We've been trying the prune puree thing. She actually LIKES prunes (even though John gets really upset, because he thinks I'm feeding the baby her own poop) and it does seem to be working, just not very fast.

Anyway, here's the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jzmn4xEyo-Q

Enjoy!

Quickie

The camera is downloaded, I video is on its way to YouTube...and now it's time to pick up John from school. There's way too much to say in 10 minutes, but I'll throw you all a bone, by posting some new pictures now, and doing a big update later - hopefully later today.

Silly me - I asked John to give me a smile, and this is what I got...

Joan, full and happy. At least one of my kids will smile.

Finally, a smile from John!

Tried to upload a video here too, but it's taking too long. But here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3wQRvcdJkCY

Sorry it's so dark. It's John opening a birthday card of mine from Mike's Grandma. (Thank you!) She thought he'd like the card, and she was right. I tried to take a video of Joan eating, too, but it wound up being a video of her pooping instead, which isn't quite as much fun.

More pictures coming soon!

John's world

Sometimes, I take a look through my camera, and find pictures I definitely didn't take. (An eyeball. A sea of glowing red finger. My feet.) I discovered these two the other day. Judging from the subject matter, and the tell-tale fingers, I'm pretty confident they're the work of John.

Life chugs on

Can't. Quite. Reach.

All in all, not much to say. Life is good. John and Joan are over their flus now. The stomach part didn't last more than a day each, but they each had a few days of coughs and runny noses. Both Mike and I escaped, with no more than a tickle in my throat for half a day. Jer and his boyfriend both got colds, but nothing major. It may not even have been the same thing.

Joan's day of throwing up left her noticeably skinnier, but she's filling back out again. She's getting really vocal these days. She's in that cute gurgly "ga ga ga ba ba ba" stage. She still doesn't have the strength that John had at this age. She still can't sit completely unaided. She can't pull herself up like he could, and she's not creeping. But to be fair, she doesn't get the practice in. It's not safe to put her down on the floor- she'd get trampled by John.

John is doing great. He's such a good kid. He's really embraced the concept of "sharing". Except when it's sharing books with his sister. Books are sacred. But if he has a food item, he'll usually split it in half and give one of us half, saying "you want to share with me? One for me, and one for you!" It's not going to work well with our new "diet," but it's the thought that counts.

And talk about vocal! He's getting so articulate lately. I can have a whole conversation with him and understand almost every word now. There are times he still makes no sense, but those times are getting fewer, and usually happen when he's upset, because he's trying to talk and cry at the same time. He plays lots of fun games, too. He loves hide and seek. It's really funny playing with him, because when you finish counting to 10, and say "ready or not, here I come!" He'll giggle and say "Okay!" from his hiding spot - usually in the closet. He also loved charades, which is a non-stop game in our house now. He'll come up and ask "what's my name?" and you have to guess from the actions he does, what piece of heavy machinery he is at the moment. My favourite is digger (backhoe). He has the backwards scoop action down pat. He's frequently a crane. Sometimes a drill (auger). Sometimes a bulldozer. He's starting to venture into animals. Sometimes he's a baby jaguar (Diego reference), other times a snake or a butterfly or a "goldie fish". My favourite is a snail. He gets down on his knees, and shuffles forward, inch by inch, pulling with his arms. We went to staples the other day, and did it all the way through the store. By the time we got to the check-out his hands were so black, the store manager appeared with a bottle of Purel and a wad of paper towels to clean them off. As soon as he was clean, down he went, back to being a snail. He inched out the front door and all the way across the parking lot.

He's picked up these funny sayings. If he wants to do something, and you hesitate, he says "come on, mom! You gotta try it!" often followed by "you're gonna love it!"

Other favourites of mine:

"I can't believe it! I gotta drive it!" (when seeing any piece of heavy machinery.)

"Come on, guys! Follow me!" (whenever we're out anywhere)

"No Baby! You're not a lobster!" (to Joan, when she pinches him)

He loves to sing, and has his own unique versions of songs, like, "row row row your boat, gently down the street." A lot of times, he'll get them mixed up, so we wind up with black sheep or baker men rowing down the street. He's lots of fun. Hopefully, we'll get up there soon, so you can see it for yourself. If not this summer, maybe closer to Christmas, or maybe Mike's reading week. We'll see how it all goes!

Joan's first trip to emergency

It was bound to happen. I figured I'd grown past all the frantic calls to the doc and unnecessary trips to emergency. But I guess I'm still a worrier the second time around.

The kids have a stomach flu right now. Joan's just getting over it. John's just starting to get it. He's still sleeping, so I'm not sure how bad it will be for him, but he was throwing up last night, so I'm expecting more of the same today.

With Joan, it just started as sniffles, but by the next day (Saturday) it was a fever, and a full-blown stomach flu. The fever was 38.3 all day - the point where they say to start trying to bring it back down. I gave her Tylenol, it did nothing. A cool sponge bath helped a little, but not much, or for long. Her only meal of the day was at 11 a.m. everything after that, she threw up, and by suppertime, she'd lost all interest in food entirely. She just sat there, drifting in and out of sleep, glazing over, staring off into space. That alone was a little alarming, and then her temperature spiked up to 39.5. She wasn't crying, but she had this really sad look on her face. She hadn't peed at all. She had the same diaper on all day, and it was dry. I was too scared to put her to bed like that, so at 11:30 p.m., I called the doc's on-call service. The doc told me she sounded dehydrated, and may need an IV, so to get her to emergency right away. Way to freak out an already freaked out mom.

So, we all piled in the car, and headed to Mac. The triage nurse looked her over, took her temperature, and gave her more Tylenol. Then he put a little bag over her nether regions to catch any pee that she made, commented on how pale she was, and sent us to the waiting room. We thought we'd be in for a long night, but not two minutes later we were in, being examined by a nurse.

The doctor came in about 15 minutes later, and diagnosed her as having a stomach flu. (duh). He said she didn't look dehydrated at all - she had tears and drool, and looked hydrated, but the test for dehydration was a urine test, so we needed to waited until she peed. That would all be well and good, except by this time, the Tylenol they'd given her had kicked in, and unlike every dose I'd given her at home, this one was actually working. She was smiling and wiggling, and hungry. I was feeding her when the doctor arrived, and she managed to keep in all down. Her temperature was way down. I felt so incredibly stupid, sitting there in emergency, with a seemingly perfectly happy, healthy child.

And to make me feel even worse, it was a crazy night in the emergency. Across the hall, about eight doctors were crowded around this poor little baby, who was having seizures. Shortly after, a baby with brain and neck injuries was rushed in (the mom in the next room over overheard the police say he was an abuse victim. It never actually occurred to me until then that people actually do shake their babies.) Then there were a few bloodied car accident victims. Then they had a guy right outside our room in the hallway, who'd broken his leg, and was sobbing and screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs from the pain. A almost went out there and offered him our room. I felt so stupid being there. Three hours later, Joan still hadn't peed, but I looked out, and across the hall, surgeons were prepping the seizure boy for emergency surgery, while nurses wrapped their parents in heated blankets, and all I could hear was this poor guy screaming in pain while he waited for the morphine to arrive. I looked down and Joan, and she flashed me a big smile, and I thought, 'why on earth are we here?' So Mike convinced me to ask the nurse if we could go. She looked at our grinning, wiggly, alert and healthy baby, said we could probably take her home, but she'd have to get the doc's approval first.

It took him a while to get there - car accident victims and shaken babies and all. Kind of a busy guy. But I felt a bit validated when he finally did come, because as he walked in the door, Joan threw up violently, splattering vomit all over herself, me, the bed, and making a puddle on the floor, easily a foot and a half wide. He gave us a bit of a shocked look, and took off to find a nurse for clean-up. Mike was worried he'd force us to stay, but he did let us go, with the suggestion that perhaps I should keep her meals small for the next day or so.

And wouldn't you know it, she peed as soon as we got home. Typical.

She woke up on Sunday looking much better. She had her colour back, and was eating just fine, though I'm still limiting her to smaller meals more often, because she's still a bit gaggy. The doc wasn't worried that she hadn't peed in the three hours she was there - he said it's not an indication of dehydration. It's just proof that she hadn't been eating. She still looked hydrated, so he wasn't too worried about her. We asked him what the nurse had given her to make her perk up so suddenly, because we'd been giving her Tylenol, and it hadn't done anything. They give her one dose, and she was almost good as new. Turns out, it takes three doses for Tylenol to reach peak effectiveness.Who knew? Never heard that one before.

All in all, it was an exciting night. John had a blast. He transformed the bed into a pirate ship, and I made dad into a whale, who wanted to come and sink our ship. He has a pretty good imagination. We had a treasure, and had to protect it from the evil whale. The game kept him entertained for hours.

In other news, we have yet to get John to open his birthday presents. I know, I know. It always seems to late by the time we can do it, and then he's crabby. But in the next few days, it will happen, I promise!

He's learning his numbers and letters now. He can count to 10 very easily, and is starting to venture into the teens. He knows T when he sees it, and knows A-D, but can't match the letter name to the written letter. Like, he'll call C, A, and D, B. But it's coming. I think he even did some rudimentary math the other day. He counts everything. In the bath, he pointed to a leg, and said "one leg" then pointed to the other and said "one leg" then, he pointed to both, and said "two legs!"

On the Joan front, other than having a stomach flu, we think she's a lefty. Nothing wrong with being a lefty. But we're pretty sure she is one. She uses her left hand for everything! Her right plays a very minor supporting role. She'll actually twist her body around into uncomfortable positions to avoid using her right hand for grabbing things. It was harder to tell with John - he used both hands equally for a long, long time. But he's very much a righty now. It's strange to see such a strong preference so young with Joan.

Anyway, both of my sickies are awake now, so I'd better go.

sitting pretty

Yay! She can sit! I love this stage. Soon, she'll be able to let go of the floor and tinker with stuff. With John, things moved pretty fast after that.

Just a quick update - sorry. Things here have been hectic. We've got association stuff out the wazoo, and Mike just finished his philosophy course. Phew! He has all his marks but his final exam, and figures he wound up with a 90 in the course overall. (He got 100 per cent on the mid-term, by the way.) Work has picked up, so he wasn't able to get his final essay in on time (he went two weeks without a single day off) but because he works and has a family - two stresses few of the other students had - the TA took pity on him, and gave him a five-day extension. So that's what we spent our weekend doing. He got his mark back already - he got a 90. His lowest mark the whole term was an 82, for his first essay. His arguements were fine, but I'm not exactly trained in academic writing, and Jer was too busy to help, so he lost marks for style. But we learned, and did much better the second time around. We made a good team. I think this year, he'll do even better.

We did something crazy yesterday. We joined a gym. We'll have to tighten up in other areas to fit it in, but it's gotten to the point where we can't afford not to. Sitting at a computer for school has really helped Mike pack on the pounds. He feels really tired all the time. We've been getting out more, but he finds it isn't helping enough. So we shopped around, and because it's July, when no-one goes to the gym, we got a pretty amazing deal. We looked into the Y, but the babysittibg hours were terrible, and the cost was rediculous. So we went private. He not only gets a discount through work, but they paired it with the July promotion. They wiped out the sign-up fees, and cut the membership almost in half. The real clincher was the councelling. As part of the promotion, you get nutrition councelling for free - it's usually a separate program that you pay extra for. It's eight weeks of sessions with a dietition. She goes over what foods we eat, and tailors a meal plan using those foods. She talks about portion control, healthy choices, all that stuff. It sounds like something we could use. It only gets done for one of us, so the trainer guy signed Mike up for it, because he has a much bigger goal, but because I do the cooking and shopping, I go too, and just adjust the portion sizes to myself, so it's like 2 for 1. They have daycare included, too, and John loved it! They have an assessment centre, too. They do a big fitness assessment, and tell you what you should be doing and what you should avoid and let you know if what you're doing is working. We can do that four times each year for free. All in all, pretty amazing for the cost, and they really seem to care about overall health. The meal plan looks pretty sensible. It doesn't look restrictive or out of balance. The other private gym has all the same stuff, but it was all as hidden fees. The membership for their summer sale was about the same, but they put you through mandatory fitness testing every 12 weeks at $100 per person per test! THAT's not happening! The nutrition councelling was optional, but cost extra as well. And they were very high pressure. The place we went with was much smaller and not nearly as fancy, but the price was right and they were very low key. And we have use of all four centres, including a 24-hour one, which will come in handy for Mike, with his crazy summer hours. The other place made you pay a premium for that. So all in all, I think we went with the right place for our needs. Mike's looking forward to the nutrition councelling. We have our first meeting with the dietician tonight. I wish we didn't need to do this, but it was a good move under the circumstances, I think. As Mike says, he's got a family, he quit smoking, and is close to a career he's going to enjoy. But it will have all been a big waste of time if he keels over from a heart attack at 35. His dad was an inspiration, too - especially that he has back pain, even though he lost all his weight. Mike figures if he gets his off now, maybe he can avoid long-term damage. Hopefully, it will work!

Anyway, John is here! Better go!

Happy birthday to John!!!

Since we're going to the beach so much, we decided to get Joan a bathing suit, so other parents don't giggle at her swollen diaper. Isn't she cute? I love the cabbage patch doll face.

John's favourite pastime - digging at the beach

John, running away from us, when we announced it was time to head home.

These photos were taken Saturday, at Valens, the ickyist beach we've ever been to. It was crazy hot yesterday, so Mike wanted to cool off in the lake. We didn't want to drive to Long Point, so we tried one of the Lake Ontario beaches. The water was c-c-c-c-c-c-c-cold!!!!!! Too cold for swimming, anyway. So we headed to one of the conservation areas that rents canoes to check out the scenery while we cooled off in the water. Well, it was a bigger lake, so we're going to go canoeing there next time, but never again for swimming! Blech! It's actually a swamp, so they have a walled-off section for swimming, with a man-made beach. Inside the wall is apparently chlorinated. But the place was teeming with...something. I don't even want to think about what was scuttling across my feet and nipping my legs. And I couldn't even say anything, because John is finally getting over his fear of crabs. Mike thinks it was fish, because they were bumping him, too. But fish don't scuttle along feet. Or do they?

Regardless, John had a blast, and that's all that counts. We had gotten him a little inflatable boat last year, where he can stick his legs out the bottom, to help him overcome his fear of the water. He wound up developing a fear of the boat as well. We brought it out again recently for Joan, but she's too small for it. But John thinks it's awesome to have his own little boat, so we let him use it yesterday. I wish I had a picture, but I didn't want to bring out a camera, then leave it unattended in the bag while I swam, and once I'm out, John will follow me in if I head back to shore, and never go out again. He was having way too much fun, so I stayed out until Joan turned blue. He managed to figure out how to steer and drive the boat by kicking, and could really boot it, when he wanted to. Dad pretended he was a swamp creature, grabbing his legs from underneath, and John squealed with delight every time.

He's getting pretty good with the water. We went to Long point a while ago, where the waves are huge. If you go in chest deep and stand still, they'll go right over your head and sweep you off your feet. But there are lots of sandbars, where the water is only waist deep, and the waves crash against them. Mike put John on his shoulders, and kneeled down on a sandbar, so the waves were crashing against John, and he laughed like a loon every time. He's still talking about playing in the big waves with dad.

Oh, and the splash pad! I didn't tell you about that. I took both kids to the park one day, and the splash pad was running. I didn't bother dressing John in trunks, because traditionally, he doesn't like water, or getting wet, or being splashed. But as we were leaving, he stopped by the edge of the splash pad to watch the other kids. Next think I know he's stripping! I managed to convince him to keep his diaper on (no, he's not potty trained yet), and he tore off into the sprinklers! I haven't heard him laugh so much in ages! He kept runing back and forth, sqealing "I wet! I wet!" I just wish Mike was there to see it, because it was hillarious (he was at work.)

Today is John's birthday! He's 3! But he doesn't know it yet. We're actually postponing the actual celebration by a week, to next Saturday or Sunday, so we can make it really special for him. Today, Mike is working, and he has his second essay due on Wednesday, and his final on Friday night, so it's a big, stressful week for him. But after 10 Friday night, he can relax, and has two days off. We were planning to go camping, but there's not enough time - we'd only be there one night. It's too much work for one night. Mike's talked about following Vic to Ohio, but I can't tell how serious he's being. If we stay here, we'll do the canoeing thing, which John enjoys. We'll go swimming, Maybe take him to a movie, if Rattatoullie is still at the drive-in. (Jer and his boyfriend went this weekend, and gave it good reviews.) we'll do the cake and candles and balloons, too, which he's been talking about for weeks. Two parcels have arrived for him, but they're still at the post office. He saw the mail truck arrive, and was running around all excited, because "mail truck bring me big box of toys!!!" I didn't want to deal with the tempation and tantrums, so I'll pick them up discreetly closer to the day.

Anyway, better go!

this and that

Sorry - this is going to have to be a quickie.

Joan had her 6-month check-up last week. All's well! She's 70 cm long, and just under 19 pounds. At this age, John was 71 cm, and just over 19 pounds, so he's actually surpassed her in size, just barely.

Doc said she looks great, and commented that she's got very good head control. The murmer is almost gone. He said it's so soft, he'd class it as an innocent murmer. If he'd heard it that soft when she was born, he wouldn't have sent her to the specialist. He gave her a bunch of shots, and sent us on our way.

We've kind of started solids with her. She's finally stopped pushing everything out with her toungue, and is swollowing most of what we give her. Her favourite food so far is mint chocolate chip ice cream. I know, I know. Bad mom. But she seems to have this instinctive pull towards ice cream. Whenever we eat it, she gets all excited, grabs my spoon, and pulls it with all her might towards her mouth. If I don't give her any, she gets all sad. She does the same with mashed potato and banana, though, so there's hope for a healthy diet yet. She's had sweet potato, too. Didn't like it at first, but after a few spoonfulls, was opening for more. Though, that might have just been peer pressure - John thought it looked pretty good too, so he'd grabbed a spoon and was shovelling it down right in front of her.

John's doing OK. We took him to the steam museum on Canada Day - they have train rides with miniature steam trains. He thought that was awesome. He announced that it was his favourite train. Then we took him to Chapters for a couple of new Dr. Seuss books. When we got home, he raced for the bag, dumped them all on the floor and said, with wonder, "Look! It's amazing!" We saw fireworks after that, and he liked them. He kept talking to them, tellling then to "stay over there. Don't burn mom!" He's become very protective of me lately. It's very cute. He races to my defence, which I think is great. Mike jokingly told me I was a bad mom one day - I think it was for letting Joan get to much sun. And John piped in "No! Mom not bad! You a good mommy!" If he spills something, or if something is broken - even if it's broken in his mind, like the 23 flat tires we've had since going camping - he often says "don't worry, Mommy. I fix it." If he can't fix it, he still comes to me for repairs, but it's the attitude that counts, and hopefully that one will stick around well past toddlerhood. Like, until he's big enough to hang drywall and stuff.

Anyway, lots to do! I'd better get going.