The longest week of my life...

Mike and John, going for a spin around the block

John getting used to the baby rickshaw

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, but it has been a litle nutty around here, with me starting work. Here's our schedule, in a nutshell:

Mike and I get up at 6ish. Mike showers, while I make breakfast/lunch/arrange the day's clothes.
Around 6:30, I wake up John, nurse him, try to get him to eat, even though al he wants is to go back to bed.
7 a.m., I strap John into his rickshaw - see photos above, and the two of them head off to the picket line for the morning.
For the next hour, i get ready for work myself.
I work from 9-5, then commute home. I usually come in the door around 5:30-6, at which point, I shudder at the mess left on the floor. Usually newspapers and Cheerios scattered as far as the eye can see. I make my way to John, with things crunching underfoot every step of the way.
I nurse John.
I make dinner.
I feed the brood.
I put John to bed.
I grunt on my way past Mike, on my way to bed myself.
Wake up, repeat.

It has been tough. Though, this morning I think we hit on a new patter that everyone is hapier with. Mike still gets up early and heads to the picket line, but John hangs back with me. We have a more leisurely morning, he has a chance to eat his breakfast, have a cuddle, play a bit, all those usual mornngthings. Then, I drop him off at the picket line on my way through downtown to work. We decided we're going to do it that way for the rest of the time - it gave John and I more time together and made for a more relaxed morning. John seemed much happier for it and we were both much happier too.

John seems to be dealing relatively OK. Mike says he's fine while I'm gone - he cries for a few minutes after I leave in the mornings, but then he's perfectly fine until I get home, when he becomes all blue and clingy. All he's wanted to do in the evenings is curl up in my lap and suck his thumb. I know it's normal, but this just isn't the way it should be. Mike keeps insisting he's happy during the day, but he seems to be under some definite stress when I see him.

Other than that, the job is great. I have an office, with a window. No air conditioning, so it's stinking hot, but it's an office all the same. I came in at the peak of the production cycle so I just kind of got thrown in there. I managed to write seven stories up in the first couple days - they all got used and one made front page. The Business Times magazine is going to be interesting. Not sure if they're setting me up to fail or what. It's a significantly bigger job than it was made out to be in the interview. They gave me examples of other similar publications they want me to copy. However, I have a fraction of their budget. They have big staffs of writers and freelancers. I just have me and I have another paper to think about. I hope I can deliver, but it's looking like it'll be a big challenge. Lots of late nights. Lots of sleepless nights.


What else. Our daycare lady bailed on us. She can't take John until August. We've been too tired to think about it, so we're not sure what we're going to do. CHances are, the strike will still be on until August, so it might be OK. But i know Mike has been counting the days until he can picket without John. I hear he's a hit at the line, though. The managers love it - one of them gave him a little toy.

John got a little sunburn today. Very mild - just a rosy glow, really. We'll have to be more carefull from now on, obviously. He wasonly unprotected in the sun for about 15 minutes, but it was at noon. I've been putting cream on it, so hopefully it'll heal really fast.

We have 11 cats.

Actually, I think I'm going to leave that one for later this weekend - it's getting late and it has been a long, long week.

One smart cookie

Playing in the grass, while Mary hunts bugs in the background.

John is starting to figure things out and it's just getting plain scary.

He knows about doorknobs. He can't open a closed door yet, but he knows to twist the round metal thing to get out. It's just a matter of time until he's got a good enough grip. Considering our entire babyproofing strategy is based on closed doors, this could prove disasterous.

He knows about wall sockets. He knows the black things goes into the holes, though obviously he has no idea why. And luckily, he lacks the dexterity to actually do it. But until we covered all the low, exposed plugs with heavy objects, it was his favourite game to try to plug stuff in.

Less sinister, but no less impressive, is the drain plug. If he's not ready to leave the bath before I pull the plug out, he'll zoom over and put the plag back over the drain. He usually gets it off by a bit, or upside down, so the water still drains, but he knows exactly what it's for and how it works.

Speaking of bathtime, he's figured out how to become dead weight, so it's harder for me to lift him out when he's not ready. If he sees me reaching, he'll sit down really fast, and I swear he feels like 60 pounds. He thinks it's hillarious. He laughs and laughs and laughs.

Another fun new game is to hide at the bottom of the stairs, if we acidentally leave the door open. He makes little peeps until I go find him. When he sees me coming, he lets out a little squeal, and boots it up the stairs, howling with laughter the whole way. I think the game is to see how far up he can get before I catch him. I have to admit, I find that one kind of fun, too - I just wish it weren't so dangerous. He's a pro with stairs now, but it only takes one slip for a very long fall.

He's figured out how to get off the couch and bed as well. It took a fat lip or two until he perfected that one - now we don't need to worry about him at all. He slithers backwards towards the edge, slowly lowering his legs down to the floor, while clutching the surface he's lowering from. He can do it so fast it scares me sometimes, but he's really good at it.

He's getting good at waving! He loves to wave to himself in the mirror, and he'll wave bye to Mike. Still a little wierd around strangers sometimes. They'll wave to him, and he'll kind of sneer back. Though, for some strangers he'll smile and jiggle. He's very particular about who he'll associate with.

He's stood by himself a few more times! It makes him nervous, I think - he seems to realize it now and he looks a little freaked out whenever he does it.

I guess I'm going to miss his first steps. Carmen will probably see them. That's his babysitter - Carmen. We gave her the official OK yesterday. She's only $600 a month, compared with $1250 for the centre, so we're pretty happy about that. She sounded pretty excited that we plan to pay her weekly, so it's a win-win. She's a grandma, and he took to her right away, so I think it'll work out OK.

She starts July 11. Mike will be taking John until then. He says he's not looking forward to it, but I think some small part of him is excited. It makes me a little nervous when he says he plans to "demomify" John - as in break him of the habit of wanting a cuddle from mewhen he's sad or tired or...anything. He's just jealous I'm the cuddler of choice. I'm sure he won't do anything to be mean to John, like let him cry for long periods or anything horrible like that.

Sorry, no picture of the "beard" yet! I'm working on it. If you squint, it looks almost beard-like now. Kind of.

11 months and counting...

This is from a few weeks ago - he's way overdressed for today's weather. We got John a big bucket of Duplo at the Re-Use Centre. He won't build things with it yet, but he loves to tear apart things we make.

John's seventh tooth has vanished - that's a first. It looks like the gums have swollen up enough to swallow it right back up! We've had a few sleepless nights here lately because of the teething.

John had a Doc appointment yesterday - it was just to get a booster. He's going to take his weight and measurements next month for his one year visit. One year already - can you believe it? He asked if he had started cruising, which he's been doing for months, and gave me a big thumbs up when I told him about standing unassisted. He's still only done it the once, but it counts.

The Doc is referring me to an endocrinologist or something to get my whole insulin issue fixed. He's going to do a bunch of tests next month and send them to someone who knows what they mean. Though, the most recent study I read said that just the diet and excercise is more effective at getting things levelled out than the pills. The pills also have lots of side effects, including depression and mood swings, which I can do without, thank you. Must get that diet back up and running. I did notice a big difference in how I felt - I just wish it didn't require so much discipline. That's something I just don't have.

The hunt for daycare continues. The lady I met was alright. She'll do in a pinch, I suppose. She's cheap and close to the paper. She owned a lot of sharp glass ornaments which will have to go. John seemed to like her. After a few minutes, he climbed right up onto her lap and played with her necklace, happy as a clam. She made him giggle with her funny sounds. John would probably do better in a home with other little kids to watch, but when she has them, she takes babies and toddlers to the Early Year's Centre to play almost every day, so he'd see kids there. Maybe not the best plan in this heat, or when it gets really cold, but a good idea on paper for sure. I'm waiting to hear back from the other centre, and one other home provider in the town. If we can't get there, I guess we'll take her. It's only for six months, and he did take to her right away so it might work out. The only thing that really worried me was that he started sucking his thumb while we were there. Not a big deal - it just means he's either hungry/thirsty, distressed or tired. I'm pretty sure he was just thirsty - he wasn't tugging my shirt like he usually does, but when I gave him something to drink later, he stopped. But she kept taking his hand out of his mouth and shaking it! He gave her this look, like "what's your problem, lady?" I don't have a problem with him sucking his thumb - to me it's a signal that he needs something, whether it be a drink or a cuddle. I'd rather he suck for a minute until I fugure out what he needs than have him scream his head off. Do you think it's a big deal that she did that?

On a happier topic, John's first birthday is fast approaching! We're trying to find a place that rents video cameras so we can record the event. It's a Friday, so I'll have to work, but maybe we'll have a little party in the backyard on Saturday. I have a baby-friendly birthday cake recipe, so he can even smear a piece of cake on his face! It'll be fun! Anyone willing and able to come is invited. Hopefully we'll have a video to circulate for everyone else.

The strike continues. Mike is very, very burned. He got some SPF 60 and some after-sun lotion to help. His forehead almost looked like it was about to blister up, but it was looking better this morning. He's growing a bit of a shaggy beard as well. It started as just laziness, but now he thinks it makes him look rugged and mean, to scare the scabs. He was thinking of just letting his face blister to add to the "scary" factor. I definitely think it would freak out some new recruit to have a big scruffy guy, covered in oozing blisters, screaming at him through the windshield. However, no dramatic effect is worth dying of cancer, so he's making an effort to save his poor lobster-red skin.

P.S. I stopped by to see my new boss after I interviewed the daycare lady. I have my own office! It'll be kind of isolating, but very cool at the same time. I've never had an office before.

I'm in!!!

Cool hair, dude

It's official - I got the new job!!! I'm FINALLY a reporter again! Yay!!! (And an editor again - just to keep life interesting.) Holy moly! I'm so happy and sad, all at the same time. I just wish I had seen this coming sooner, so I'd have more time to find more convenient care for John. We have an interview with a home daycare lady, but I already don't like her. But, she's licenced, she's just blocks away from the paper, and he'd be the only kid she'd have through the day, so at least he'd get plenty of attention. What kind of attention, I don't know. Ugh. Oh, that and she can't take him until July 11. Mike figures he'll easily be on strike unti then, so he'll stay at home and do the full-time parent thing until then. But the strike could end before that, and end with only a few days notice, so it could backfire pretty severely.

Ugh.

I better call the other daycare. The one I really didn't like, the one who let a poor toddler cry alone on her cot, but at least is on the way. It's only for six months, right? What kind of deep damage can be done in six months? Then, he's off to the French Utopia, where everyone is nice and there's constant squeals of glee in the background and they build little french neurons. That and the price is subsidized to make it the cheapest place in town. It's walking distance to our house, to boot. The only way they could make it better is to accept babies. Ugh.

Well, we'll work it out. These things have a way of falling into place.

A promotion, eh - I guess we should delay our campaign to get John a sibling for a little while. Ha ha. Not that it has been particularly successful, anyway. We're pretty sure the next one will require some medical intervention, but we're just not ready to ask for help at this point.

John has a seventh tooth! One more until this set is complete!

Anyway, I had better get on the phone and drum up something for daycare. I start in a week and a half, whether we have something in place or not! Holy cow! This is the first time I've been grateful for this wretched strike - at least John can stay home with Mike, if I don't find something closer in time.

Ugh.

A late update

Wee!!!

Sorry everyone! It has been pretty hectic here and I haven't had much time to get online lately. I have an unfinished post in my draft folder which I've been trying to finish for a week now. I'll get it up, but for the sake of getting everyone up to speed, I'll post the highlights of the week, with nifty titles, so you can just scroll to whatever interests you.

The stand
John stood all by himself for the first time yesterday!!! It was a little surreal to watch. We don't think he realized he was doing it. We were lying on the bed; he was playing on the floor. He pulled himself up onto my bedside table, picked up his moniter with one hand, then started tinkering with both hands. I think he was so obsorbed in his tinkering, it didn't even register that he wasn't holding onto anything. He didn't even wobble. After a minute or so, he put the moniter down and crawled off to something new. It's almost like he's been working on it in secret all this time, and he did it in front of us by accident without realizing. He's only kind of done it once since - he was standing on the couch, threw both hands in the air and let out a little squeal of glee as he fell onto Mike.

The weather
Ugh. It's hot, hot, hot!!! We're in the middle of our first heat wave - 34 with the humidex (that's like windchill, only it measures how hot it feels with the humidity, instead of how cold with the wind.) John hasn't worn more than a diaper in days, unless we go somewhere. Even then, we have to hose him down now and then to cool him off. His favourite game these days is to sit buck naked under the shade tree, with a big bucket of cold water in front of him; he splashes and squeals, then dumps the water all over himself. It's great fun. We have an air conditioner running in his room all the time and he sleeps practically naked. I give him several cool baths a day and plenty to drink. Despite it all, he still got a little heat rash the other day. So frustrating - I guess heat tolerance is inherited too.

The strike
It's still going on. Mike has a terrible sunburn - he's finally started using John's SPF 50 Baby Block. Without it, I'm sure he's just hours away from blistering. There's a rumour that the company is working on a new contract. It'll be pretty much the same deal, but with an offer to promote all the temps to permenant part-time. There's a good chance it would be accepted, according to Mike.

The job
Very few people know this, but I applied for an editor's position recently. I didn't get it, but it left a reporter's position free, which I will more than likely be getting - I just found out today. It's not finalized, but that's the intention. It's a small weekly in the rural community where I used to work - this paper used to be our competition, but my company bought them out and shut our paper down, transferring me to the ad department. So, this is kind of like going home. However, my company never makes things easy. Instead of being just a reporter, I'm also being made editor of a monthly business publication - it's a 20 page tabloid, targeted at managers and business owners. I'll get paid a small bonus to put it together every month and I'll have a small freelance budget to use as needed. It's a lot more responsibility for a little more money, but the logic is to give me some more editor practice. This publication is pre-existing, but it has never had an editor before. They've just thrown in whatever business stories happened to already be written for the regular papers and gotten the ad and production departments to slap it together. I guess they want me to make it into something people would actually want to read. I'm pretty excited about it - I have a bunch of ideas already - I welcome suggestions from all you managers out there - Mom, Dad, Bruce. The only concern in John. His daycare is actually clear on the other side of the city! We're next on the waiting list for one that would be along the way to this town, so i'll give them a call and see what our chances are - they were pretty sure another spot would open up in time the last time I spoke to them. I'll call about home care in the town itself. That would be nice to have him close by like that. We just need a short term solution - in six months he's being transferred to the french daycare, which is only a few blocks from our house. It's just so stupid - I spent so long finding one I was happy with, and now we need a sudden change. Ugh. I'll hear about the job for sure in a day or two - the managing editor is trying to arrange it as a transfer, but she may be forced to post it, so she can't tell me for sure that I'm in. Keep your fingers crossed - for the job and the daycare!

Everyone's gotta have a baby-eating-plant photo. Our guy is partial to grass.

Climbing the porch steps.  

Trying to figure out why his hand felt wet, as he crawled through freshly watered grass. 

Hmmmm...it's genetic, eh?

You mean something like this, Grandpa W?

Tooth number six makes its debut

Someone's hungry

Yup - six teeth. The top right hand one has arrived. The left top and bottom are on their way, I'm sure. John has been in some serious distress these last couple of days. It isn't pretty. Last night he was in a howling fit. We had headed out for the afternoon, but I had forgotten the Tylenol at home. Ugh. By the time we got home, he was gnashing and clawing. He was positively crazed, rocking, clutching his mouth. He didn't want a teether. He didn't want to be held. Nothing would settle him down. It was so horrible. I gave him some Tylenol when we got home and gave him a cold wet washcloth to gnaw on until it took effect. Twenty minutes of wide-eyed cloth-gnawing later, he was giggling and playing peek-a-boo. Phew! He seems better today, but boy, he's having a rough time with this last wave of teeth.

A return visit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joys of science

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

A day at the park

Higher, Dad! Higher!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tickle, tickle! 

What's this thing on Dad's face? 

More, Dad! More! 

Mmmmm....yummy petals 

The trip in pictures

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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