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

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8i pi k; l......................,,mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmiy
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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.

Too. Much. Sun.

John and his digger, busy at work at Long Point beach on Father's Day.

We did a few more days of outdoor activities this week. Mike has been really determined to get in more exercise and outdoor activities this summer - he finds now that he's back in school, he spends too much time sitting and reading. It's made him feel kind of blah and tired, and he feels he's been putting on too much weight. So we've definitely been doing more stuff outside as a family, which has been fun for everyone.

This week, I paddled a canoe for the first time in my life. There's this tiny little pond-lake, called Christie Lake, where you can rent canoes for a nominal fee. So we rented one for a couple of hours, and did a circle of the lake. If it was just Mike and I, I probably wouldn't have been that nervous. But I had Joan on the floor of the boat in front of me, and John was hanging onto the boat for dear life behind me, and I was worried I'd lose them both if the canoe tipped. Obviously, they were fully padded up in properly sized and tightly strapped life jackets, as was I, and the lake is completely calm and virtually self-contained, and about two feet deep for most parts, but that fear was still there. I think the hardest part was getting used to the movement of the boat itself. Just the way it wobbles around all the time. And I had to try to stay brave for John, who was just as worried as me.

Apparently, John actually jumped out of the boat before the rental guy could send us off. Once back in the boat, and on the water, he fell completely silent. As many of you will experience this summer, that is not a good sign for John. He's a talker, to put it mildly. He talks ALL THE TIME. And he doesn't just talk to hear himself talk - he's genuinely interacting. If he feels my attention is wandering, he'll say "Mommy! Talk to me!"

Anyway, so he was back there, white knuckling it on the side of the boat, in stunned and stoney silence. We'd ask him how we was, he wouldn't say anything. We'd ask him if he was OK, he wouldn't say anything. It took about half an hour before he finally let go of the boat, and touched the water. It was probably another half hour before he finally spoke. He said "Mommy! I looking at the water!" From that point on, he was totally himself, commenting on the grass and the birds and the ducks in the duck houses, and the stumps and the bugs. Afterwards, he said he'd had fun. And it was pretty fun. It was probably the best lake we could have started on - it was extremely small, calm and shallow. We'll probably go back again sometime, or maybe we'll try a slightly bigger lake next time. They had a small beach, and because the water was so shallow, the water was very warm. It was early evening, so there weren't many people, so we stayed to swim for a while. We actually got John in the water, having fun. He rode on dad's back, while dad swam around, so he got the sensation of swimming, and the security of dad's back. We assured him there were no crabs, and no lobsters. He seemed to buy it, and had lots of fun. But for the most park, he dug in the sand, and ran up and down the beach scaring flocks of lake gulls, which he thought was really funny. Joan had a good time, too. She really does love to swim.

Yesterday, Father's Day, Mike wanted to go back to the beach, but to scope out a different beach. Jer wanted to tag along, and suggested Long Point, near Port Dover, so that's where we went. I wasn't too keen on the idea of swimming in Lake Eerie. All I know is the humming fish in The Lorax didn't want to go there, because it was rumoured to be just as bad as their glumped-up pond. But other people were there, and they weren't breaking out in rashes, so I figured it was probably safe.

It was actually a really great beach. The shoreline was a series of sand bars, so you could either stay in this very hot, shallow area, between the bars, which was great for kids, or head out and swim in an actual great lake, which was a little freaky. It was surprisingly shallow - we had to go far out before the water was up to our necks, and out there, the waves were really huge! But if you jump just before they reach you, they'll kind of pick you up and carry you towards the shore. It was definitely an interesting sensation. Obviously, we didn't take the kids out that far. Jer watched them while I went out, and I watched them while Jer went out, and Mike stayed out the whole time, even though his initial plan heading to the car was to sit on the beach and read philosophy most of the afternoon. Oh well. He figures a day of swiming will help his school work more than spending all that time reading, anyway. He definitely seems a bit more cheerful and energetic lately, so I'm not complaining. I agree that he's been doing way too much sitting lately.

On the way home, there were fireworks at Ivor Wynne - some sort of Catholic festival - so we stopped to watch. By the time we got home, and got the kids through the tub, it was 11:30. I phoned my dad, who's a night owl. But our apologies to Mike's Dad, who we knew would have been asleep by then, so we couldn't call. But you weren't forgotten.

Anyway, Joan is up again, so I'd better head up to get her. Mike's at school today, catching up on the reading he was planning to do yesterday, and I have a full day of stuff to do. So I'd better get on it.

What a cutie!

A cute picture of Joan, taken this morning, just for fun. She's sitting in her stroller, and almost supporting her own weight. She's getting strong now - not as strong as John was at this age, but still strong. It must take a lot of muscle to hold up such a big little body!

She's really fun now, because she can control her hands really well. She grabs at everything. she loves to touch John's hair, but he's not so thrilled when she does. Her increasing mobility has sparked some sibling rivalries. She grabs his toys and books. He's good at sharing though, and he'll "read" her his books. He sat beside her and "read" her Goodnight Moon the other day. It was so cute! He's memorized it, so it looks like he's reading to her, even though he's not, entirely. But now and then, he won't share. So far, when that happens, I've been taking the toy away entirely. That sure gets him sharing in a hurry! I'm sure it will get more complicated as we go, though. But so far, John's a great big brother, and when I see him doing something nice for her, I make a point of slathering on the praise.

It's really interesting watching John develop. He's going through a bit of a phobia stage these days. He's been afraid of the dark for a long time, but now he has the words to articulate it. He'll actually stop before entering a dark room and says "I scared."

We've known about his fear of deep water for a while now, too. But now that he has more words, he was able to say why - he WANTS to swim with dad, but he's scared because he doesn't know how to swim, and he's afraid crabs will bite off his toes. I would never have guessed the crab part in a million years.

The other day, he walked in on me cooking sausages - one of his favourite foods - and he flipped out on me. Once I got him calmed down, he told me that sausages are people's fingers. After a quick explanation of how sausages are made, he happily ate three of them. I'm going to assume that one was from a bad dream of some sort.

It must suck to know enough about the world to finally put two and two together, but to understand it all so little that two plus two equals 15. At least we've had success in nipping some fears in the bud. I'm trying to work on spiders. I can see a phodbia brewing over those, so whenever we see one, we watch it together, and we tell him that spiders are our friends, because they eat bugs that want to eat our food. We've worked on monsters, too. Mike made the mistake one day of telling John that a monster lives in our house, and lives on the main floor while we sleep, in an attempt to keep him in his bed at night. Well, it kept him in his bed alright. He believed it completely, to the point where he said he'd SEEN the monster, and was scared. After the third monster sighting, we decided we needed to do something, so we morphed it into a creature who protects us from bad things while we sleep. I think we told him it spends its nights playing with the cats and eating ice cream. There have been no monster sightings since. (Though, I signed out Where the Wild Things Are from the library for him, and even though he keeps asking for it, he always hides behind me just before we get to the monster part.) Sure have to be careful what you say around little kids! Mike very rightly chastized me today for pointing out someone's race. Our mechanic is right across the street, and is a big black Jamaican guy. John had happened to see him move our car from the street into his garage to repair the flat tire, and had come to us upset, because he thought it had been stolen. I asked him if a big black man had taken it, and he said yes. My bad - we're trying not to point out differences in race, with the hopes of keeping him "colour blind". Doubt it will work, but it's worth a shot.

Anyway, I'd better get going.

Ugh. What a weekend

John, as the Lorax, in Algonquin Park

Holy cow, am I tired!

Mike has been a big ball of nerves lately, with work, school and association stuff. However, his mid-term was due Friday afternoon, and the schedule had been shifted to give him an actual weekend off, so he decided he wanted to unwind by going camping. I hate camping. But I figured John would really enjoy it, so we raided Jer's camping supplies, packed up the kids, and spent a weekend at Algonquin Park.

All in all, it was actually a really fun weekend. It was a lot of work, but it turned out to be a lot of fun, too. Algonquin Park is just north enough to actually look like home, which Mike seemed to really enjoy. But we were joking that it's kind of a Disney version of the north. Yes, there are moose and pine trees and swamps and swarms of black flies. But it all seems a bit too pristine and manicured. It almost felt like it was all created for the tourists. There sure were a lot of moose! Unlike the rest of the tourists, we didn't take pictures of them though. We thought it might be a bit strange to send you guys pictures of moose.

So let's see. A recap of the weekend. We left Friday after Mike got off work, but were running late, as always. We arrived at the park at 11:30 Friday night. We set up our tent in the middle of the night. Thankfully, we had no neighbours at the time. John was afraid of the dark at first. For the first 10 minutes or so, he stayed in his seat in the car. But eventually, he ventured out to see what we were doing, and he thought the whole thing was hilarious. He was squealing with laughter for quite some time, reciting passages of Dr. Seuss's The Lorax (I am the Lorax! I speak for the trees!)I took the lantern and headed tot he washroom at one point, and I could hear him laughing all the way there, maybe 100 yards away. We told him to look up, so he could see all the stars. I haven't seem stars like that in years. He LOVED the tent. He was so excited, it took him forever to wind down. We fell asleep before he did, but when we woke up, he was snuggled in with us. Good thing - it was c-c-c-c-cold!

The next day, we made breakfast, and John explored the campsite, asking what everything was, checking out the trees. He picked a lot of Trilliums for me, and our campsite was close to a lake, so Mike took John down the path to check it out. After that, we went for a drive. Algonquin Park has a number of old cabins, that were used as outposts for park Rangers. They're these little log shacks, mostly built in the 20's. Mike wants to stay in one some day, but most are only accessible by canoe. Some can be driven to, and one can be hiked to, so he wanted to see what one of the access roads was like - it's accessible by hike along the hydro right-of-way. However, before we got there, the road we were on had been closed. A beaver had dammed a culvert, so not only had part of the road flooded, but the water was eroding the road from underneath, where the culvert pipes were. It was maybe a two foot drop to the pipe, which was surrounded by rushing water, so it wasn't a very safe place to be. A bunch of cars were stopped there to check it out. One truck-load was filled with people heading to their cabin. They decided to go through the blockade, and keep going, but as they went over where the culvert was, their wheel broke through part of the road. And Mike said when the guy stepped out of the truck, to make sure it was OK, his foot went through another part. All the guys there told them not to go on - another guy there had a cabin, and he said the road was fine just that morning, so there wasn't going to be any surface left before long, so they may not be able to get home. But they still kept going. The other guy who said the road was OK that morning turned around. He had his grandkids with him, and wasn't going to risk getting stranded at the cabin. But his cabin was accessible by boat, so he was going to get his hands on one to get back and forth.

Obviously, we stopped before the MTO's little tape barrier. But we did park the car, and walk out with the kids to see what the beavers had done. It was really cool! It was a marsh that had been flooded. It had washed across the road, and was maybe two inches deep at the deepest part. But where it was just flooded, it was safe - it was only eroding by the two culverts. But that water was alive! It was teeming with tadpoles! Millions of tadpoles! Swarms so thick, the water was black in some places. And of course, there were tons of frogs. We saw at least a dozen. Maybe two, just in this tiny little pond across the road, maybe 20 feet long. John thought it was so cool! Mike caught a frog for him, so he could see one up close. He just laughed and laughed! When it jumped, he laughed some more! He even got up the nerve to touch the frog, and it jumped, which he thought was really great. And to top it all off, there were hordes of butterflies. Black and white ones, yellow ones, orange ones. Just tons of them! We didn't get to see what we were going for, but it was almost better that the road was washed away. It was a lot of fun. It was hard to drag John away. But it definitely left an impression. Last night in the tub, he was pretending to be a tadpole. Just hope those other people will be able to make it back out!

After that, we headed back to camp. We went to the beach for a bit. It was evening by then, so the water was a bit nippy. John doesn't like to swim. Mike tried to ease him in by carrying him, but wound up coming out with John wrapped so tightly around him, that he didn't even have to hang on. I had packed John's shovel, so he spent a bit of time digging in the sand, before we headed back to make supper.

Mike told me that it was possible to make chicken while camping. Not being a camper myself, I had to trust him on that one. So he set about to make chicken and potatoes for supper. He slathered the chicken in barbecue sauce, and wrapped it in tin foil, and then put it in the bottom of the fire. The potatoes were wrapped and put into the fire, too.

But wouldn't it burn you might ask? Supposedly, it will not, Mike said. An hour later, he hauled everything out of the fire. By this time, it was pitch black outside. But even by dim lantern light, we could see that all was not well in the dinner department. The chicken wasn't just burned. It was cremated. He managed to pry out a bone, and it crumbled in his hand. I was just about to go grab the hot dog wieners, when out of the charred remains he pulled some white flesh. It took some careful excavation work, but he managed to salvage enough chicken for a light supper. The potatoes weren't burned too badly. We peeled off the black skin, and the flesh inside was edible. But they were so dry, they were almost rubbery. Even the carrots were bad. We'd boiled them on the fire, and they were flavourless and tough. But there was enough there to call it supper, so that's what we ate. Unfortunately, the animals thought it smelled just fine. As we were eating, in the pitch black, with just one very dim lantern as a light source, we could hear forest creatures circling our camp. (The fire was waaaay on the other side of the site) Something large enough to crack twigs under its feet came within a few feet of John, Joan and I. Mike tried to find out what it was, but it scampered away into the bush before he could get a look at it. We figured it was probably either a fox or a raccoon. At least, that's what we hope.

It was too dark to do dishes, so Mike burned the leftovers, and we brought out the marshmallows. John was so looking forward to this part. He wanted to be like the Sneetches on the beaches, because they toast marshmallows. But the fire was too hot, and the sticks too short, and he was too tired to cope with it all, after a day outside with frogs and tadpoles and digging in the sand. So we toasted them for him, but he still didn't like them. Oh well.

As John sat there , slumped in a folding chair, eyes fluttering closed, we decided to squeeze in one more activity. We poked him awake and went for a walk to the beach, to look at the stars. He was a bit scared of the dark, but to his credit, I was too. There weren't many people out camping that weekend to begin with, and most of them were asleep, so there weren't even any fires around. Just blackness and silence. At one point, we passed a truck, and there was a guy in the drivers seat. He said hello, and we all jumped and yelped. Mike said "you may as well have said Boo." He looked like he felt bad - he was just trying to be friendly. Even the beach itself was a bit creepy. There was a very horror-flick type of mist coming off the water, and there were some birds making creepy noises around the corner. But all the creepiness was worth it - the stars were really something! I haven't seen that many stars, that bright, in years. John really liked it at first, and babbled about the stars. But after a while, he went quiet. I thought he'd lost interest. But Mike turned the light on, and we found him face down, fast asleep.

And that's probably how our day should have ended. But it kept going. Mike plays an online combat game, with a few thousand other people. He'd told them we were heading out this weekend, and joked, that wouldn't it be funny if he kept up on his turns while he was away. Ha, ha, ha. Until that point, he was pretty reasonable with it. He played his turns while we were stopped to feed Joan, or something like that. But he loses turns if he doesn't play for 16 hours, and he was due to lose turns. So, determined to be as strange as possible, we piled our sleeping children into the car, and headed to the next nearest town in search of Internet access. What a harrowing ride! That park is TEEMING. We saw two moose, a deer, a rabbit, three cats, and I forget what else. I'd forgotten how big moose were. It was almost surreal, watching this ginormous animal lumbering off into the woods. We saw two females. One was on the edge, and headed to the bush when we stopped. The other was walking down the road, on the opposite side of the street. It was even headed in the right direction. We had actually driven right past it without seeing it at first. We did a double take before it sunk in we'd just driven right past a moose. Mike turned around to get another look, and there it was, sauntering down the road. It looked back to see us, and pulled off to the shoulder to let us past. Mike followed it, trying to scare it back into the bush, so no-one would hit it, but it was pretty determined to stay. It just kept strolling down that shoulder, giving us glances now and then to see if we were still there.

We went to bed after that, but were woken early to the sound of wild animals ransacking our camp. They were after our leftovers. I couldn't tell what was out there, but I could hear a lot of commotion. All of our cooking gear was being tossed around, and things were getting knocked off the table. I thought it must be raccoons, but when I poked my head out, it was just ravens, and the sound of the zipper had scared them away. But in the light of day, many things had been put out of place. It seems that the forest critters were roasting marshmallows while we were away. One bag was missing entirely, and the other had been moved practically into the fire. The tin foil we'd wrapped the chicken in had been picked over, but it didn't look like they were able to find much to eat.

We slept until 11 that morning, and had to start packing up almost right away - check-out is 2 p.m. Once we got everything in the car, we headed to the beach for one last swim. Joan loves to swim! The water was a bit cold fer her the night before, but we brought her in that day, and she loved it! She was laughing and splashing about. John, however, was having none of it. He stayed on shore, digging holes in the sand. We did eventually coax him in on dad's shoulders, but he wasn't having any fun. He kept screaming that he couldn't swim, and that he was cold. So we took him back to keep digging. There was a little girl there who was fully equipped for a day in the sand. She had a whole laundry basket of plastic shovels and sifters and buckets. John just had his one little yellow shovel. So the two of them played together in the sand. It was actually a busy little beach. All young families - maybe a dozen kids altogether. John, my social butterfly, went from person to person showing off all the cool new toys he'd found on the beach. "Look! I have a hoe! I gardening!" "Look! I have two shovels!" It was very embarrassing, but the other family was happy to have someone new for their little girl to practice playing with, so it all worked out - she was barely 2, and also afraid to go into the water. They settled into a little game where John would shovel the sand into her bucket, she would dump it out, and they'd both laugh.

It was just supposed to be a quick swim to wash off for the trip home, but we wound up staying for a few hours. As a result, I brought out the sunscreen a little too late. Surprisingly, John is fine, even though he went a long time in full sun with no sunscreen at all. His cheeks are a little sun kissed, but you'd never know he was in the sun. Mike and my shoulders are burned, and Mike's face is burned a bit too. Joan got too much sun. She was looking pretty red yesterday, but it's looking better today. I was trying to shield her body with mine, and spent a lot of time under a shady tree with her, but she still got some redness on the top of her head, and her cheeks. But she's looking better today - it's just pink. What's shocking with her is the number of black fly bites covering her face. And of course, black flies are the ones that make you bleed, so she spent the whole weekend bleeding. John remarked many times about how I'd spilled ketchup on the baby. At one point, it clicked that it was blood - he told me she needed an ambulance. The worst one was on her eyelid. I had turned to put sunscreen on John, and by the time I got back to her, her eyelid was covered in blood. She was grinning ear to ear, but still covered in blood.

It wasn't even as bad as it could have been. Once we realized she was the preferred specimen for all the biting bugs, we went to the camp store, and found her a mosquito net. It was actually a mesh jacket, but it fit over her car seat, and kept her safe for most of Saturday and Sunday, as long as we kept her in her seat.

After that, we headed on the loooong drive home. Even it was exciting. We got a flat tire in Burlington - we have a nail wedged in the rubber right now. Luckily, we had a jack and a spare, so Mike changed it, and we went on our way. But John watched, and boy, did he think that was cool. When he got home, he changed all the tires on his tricycle, (which for the purpose had transformed into a race car).

All in all, an exciting weekend was had by all. When questioned, John says his favourite part was playing on the beach. But he's still talking about the frogs and butterflies and the flat tire a lot, too. Mike wants to do it again sometime. The advantage is, we don't have to go on a weekend, because I'm not working. But we'll see what his next schedule brings. If we can make it back, he wants to rent a canoe, and teach me how to paddle it. Should be exciting.

In other news, Joan has her first tooth!!!! It's been coming for a long time, and finally popped out over the weekend. She seems much more relaxed now that it's broken through. It's just the top ridge so far, so it's not big enough to bite me. I can see the second one coming, too, but it might take a while before it breaks through the gums.

Anyway, more pictures to follow:


John snapped this picture of Joan

This is John, Dad and the ill-fated chicken.

John on the beach on Sunday. The little girl he was playing with is behind him. He had swimming trunks, he didn't like that wet, clingy feeling, so he took them off and ran around naked. A diaper was our compromise.

Who's so pretty?

As promised - pictures of Joan in her dresses. This is one from our friends Jim, Joan and their family.

This is the very popular yellow sundress from Mike's grandma. Shockingly, both dresses - and indeed most of Joan's clothes - are 12-month size. There's the pink one from the cat photo, too, but my batteries gave out on me. I'll get it later. She has a pair of overalls from Mike's parents, too, which fit perfectly, but it bothers Mike because everyone mistakes her for a boy when she wears them. We just play along, to make them feel better, but one lady asked her name. When we told her Joan, she got a bit embarrassed, but it doesn't bother me that people can't tell. She's just a baby. It's impossible to tell, unless she's dripping in pink.

And who can leave out John. He's sporting his blue Canada T-shirt from Grandma Phillips. It's not new, but it's still in high toddler fashion. It doesn't get better than planes. Except maybe trains, or monster trucks. (He was actually butting in on me trying to take pictures of Joan. If you look hard, you can see her little feet back there to the right. What a ham!)