So apparently, if you don't post for a few months, the spammers come and get you. They put comments in random posts, thinking you won't notice.
I NOTICE!! I DELETE YOU!! HAPPILY!!
So for the sake of dissuading the spammers, I shall post. Though I've still not a great deal to say. I'm going through something of a depressive period, and I can't organize my thoughts coherently. It's easier not to write. But write, I shall. For it is now apparent that the penalty for writer's block is spam in droves, and that is unacceptable to me.
Feel free to skip this nonsensical post if you like. I just haven't got much to say.
*sigh*
First things first: I got scholarships! Two scholarships! One of them is a coveted national award. Annually, there's only one of these granted in each level. And I took it for Level 4. So I'm happy. There's cash involved. Now I can afford to buy tires. Because they continue to be punctured on a fairly regular basis. I still don't know why, but continue my conspiracy theories.
Secondly, J was moved into Pre-Kindergarten at school. I thought I had another year of preschool, but Pre-K is here. I'm getting used to it. He likes it a lot.
J says many funny things these days. But by the time I get to my computer, I've usually forgotten. I live in something of a fog lately, I'm afraid. But off the top of my head:
J: When I get big, I'm going to paint all the street lights green.
J: Can we go to the AC/DC Centre?
Note: This is J's term for the "ACT Centre", a pool and rec centre that he really enjoys.
J: Today, we talked about our favourite books at show and tell. Thali's favourite book is called 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
T: I think you mean 'Diary of a Mouse'.
J: No. It's 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
T: 'Diary of a Mouse'?
J: No. 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
H: J. Is the book about a mouse that sits on the toilet all the time and does absolutely nothing else? Or is it about a mouse that writes in a little book?
J: Oooooh ... [giggle] It's about a mouse that writes.
T: Ah. 'Diary of a Mouse'.
The final thing that I shall report on is N. Who is sick. Constantly. He's having teething issues. He had a flu bug a week or two ago. He now has a cold with fever. He is rather inconsolable. Last night, he even cried during bathtime. Poor little Pineapple.
There. I posted. Now quit spamming my comments, you nasty robots!
Showing posts with label ned. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ned. Show all posts
Friday, November 13, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Chuck E Cheese is not ...
Today was N's first birthday. Such a big boy! He had a cupcake party at daycare this afternoon. Apparently, he quite enjoyed his chocolate cupcake. They made him a little party hat of construction paper that he wore without complaint. He was a happy little guy. Everything was good.
To celebrate his birthday this evening, we decided to go out to Chuck E Cheese. N wore a little birthday boy crown, and ate some pizza. And with considerable prompting, J ate a hotdog. Games were played. Fun was had. Exhaustion ensued.
And people were people. As they often are. And because of them, I have decided to make a list of the things that Chuck E Cheese is not. Because there appears to be some misunderstanding.
So, in case anyone was wondering, Chuck E Cheese is not:
To celebrate his birthday this evening, we decided to go out to Chuck E Cheese. N wore a little birthday boy crown, and ate some pizza. And with considerable prompting, J ate a hotdog. Games were played. Fun was had. Exhaustion ensued.
And people were people. As they often are. And because of them, I have decided to make a list of the things that Chuck E Cheese is not. Because there appears to be some misunderstanding.
So, in case anyone was wondering, Chuck E Cheese is not:
- quiet.
- representative of the fine dining experience.
- relaxing.
- an excellent choice for a romantic evening out.
- appropriate for a group with no children present.
- nutritious.
- a place that children want to leave. Like, ever.
- staffed by friendly, knowledgable, polite employees.
- a library.
- a magical place where all your dreams come true.
- responsible for any loss or damage.
- the best place to really tick off an over-tired mother of two who has just worked a full day and is now at a really loud establishment trying to get a picture of her one-year old sitting in a pretend car next to a giant rat as her insanely hyper four-year old throws up in a place as yet to be determined, because he refused to tell her.
- cleaned on a regular basis.
- quiet. (I know I said it before, but it bears repeating.)
- an alternative to daycare.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Shopping FAIL! Bedtime WIN!
Today, we met up with our friend L and her girls I & G at Ikea. L was a bit late arriving, since she had to come from the other side of the city, and also since she drives like someone's grandma. (Seriously, L - the gas is the little skinny pedal on the right. ;))
We decided to meet up for lunch. And then, we thought it would be fun to let the three big kids play together in Small Land while the rest of us shopped. J is finally tall enough to be admitted to Small Land. When we found out he could get in, H and I were over the moon! (Imagine the prospect of shopping sans preschooler!) But it was not to be. Because J, after taking far too long to eat and tying everyone up for a prolonged period, refused to go into Small Land. And he started having a tantrum, so we picked him up and just left. And poor L had to shop all by herself while we took J for a much needed nap. She must have been so lonely, shopping all alone, with not even a screaming preschooler for company. ;)
As we drove, we passed what appeared to be a carnival. Big rides. Looked like fun. J wanted to go and play, but we weren't about to have him miss his nap after his earlier display. Besides, there are those pesky height restrictions to think of. J is still pretty short for his age, the result of his continued refusal to eat, and he probably wouldn't come up to most ride height restriction lines. So we took a pass.
H: No, J. You have to be a certain height to ride.
J: I AM a certain height!
Well, he's right. We're all a certain height. But he still didn't get to go on any rides.
**********
Sadly, today's Ikea experience was more familiar to us than we'd like to admit. These days, we just don't get to spend quite enough time with other adults without children present. As a result, four-year old logic is starting to make sense to us. Like so:
J: Look at the big nose on my watch pointing over here.
H: That's an arm, J. Not a nose.
J: But it's on the watch's face!
Incidentally, does anyone know why watches have arms on their faces? Were they designed by Pablo Picasso or something?
**********
J has many interests. Mostly balls and blocks. But sometimes, other toys get his attention. Like paints. Or Star Wars.
H: Maybe they just know we're busy with our two?
J: D2.
(Seriously. Think about it. Say it out loud. It makes sense; I promise.)
**********
In other news, tonight N had a bath. While that doesn't sound like much, it was significant. It was the first time that N did not sob uncontrollably during bath time. He sat up in the tub and splashed happily, chasing after his little toy seal and spraying me with water. He frequently stood up for hugs, smiling happily. And he would lie back, knowing Mommy would catch him, and then roll over onto his tummy to crawl around in the warm soapy water. Such a fun time!
Then the kids went to bed. J wanted snuggles, and I happily complied. Always with a tune in my head, I lay next to my little guy with my eyes closed and I hummed. And J looked at me with love in his eyes, and sang me an impromptu lullaby:
Go to sleep.
Go to sleep.
Go to sleep, and sing.
I love you.
I love you so much.
So go to sleep, and sing.
You will be my mommy forever.
You will be my mommy forever.
And I love you forever.
Now go to sleep.
Sometimes, J can be a bit of a demon. But tonight's lullaby really made up for a lot.
Good night, J. Good night, N. I love you.
We decided to meet up for lunch. And then, we thought it would be fun to let the three big kids play together in Small Land while the rest of us shopped. J is finally tall enough to be admitted to Small Land. When we found out he could get in, H and I were over the moon! (Imagine the prospect of shopping sans preschooler!) But it was not to be. Because J, after taking far too long to eat and tying everyone up for a prolonged period, refused to go into Small Land. And he started having a tantrum, so we picked him up and just left. And poor L had to shop all by herself while we took J for a much needed nap. She must have been so lonely, shopping all alone, with not even a screaming preschooler for company. ;)
As we drove, we passed what appeared to be a carnival. Big rides. Looked like fun. J wanted to go and play, but we weren't about to have him miss his nap after his earlier display. Besides, there are those pesky height restrictions to think of. J is still pretty short for his age, the result of his continued refusal to eat, and he probably wouldn't come up to most ride height restriction lines. So we took a pass.
H: No, J. You have to be a certain height to ride.
J: I AM a certain height!
Well, he's right. We're all a certain height. But he still didn't get to go on any rides.
Sadly, today's Ikea experience was more familiar to us than we'd like to admit. These days, we just don't get to spend quite enough time with other adults without children present. As a result, four-year old logic is starting to make sense to us. Like so:
J: Look at the big nose on my watch pointing over here.
H: That's an arm, J. Not a nose.
J: But it's on the watch's face!
Incidentally, does anyone know why watches have arms on their faces? Were they designed by Pablo Picasso or something?
J has many interests. Mostly balls and blocks. But sometimes, other toys get his attention. Like paints. Or Star Wars.
H: Maybe they just know we're busy with our two?
J: D2.
(Seriously. Think about it. Say it out loud. It makes sense; I promise.)
In other news, tonight N had a bath. While that doesn't sound like much, it was significant. It was the first time that N did not sob uncontrollably during bath time. He sat up in the tub and splashed happily, chasing after his little toy seal and spraying me with water. He frequently stood up for hugs, smiling happily. And he would lie back, knowing Mommy would catch him, and then roll over onto his tummy to crawl around in the warm soapy water. Such a fun time!
Then the kids went to bed. J wanted snuggles, and I happily complied. Always with a tune in my head, I lay next to my little guy with my eyes closed and I hummed. And J looked at me with love in his eyes, and sang me an impromptu lullaby:
Go to sleep.
Go to sleep.
Go to sleep, and sing.
I love you.
I love you so much.
So go to sleep, and sing.
You will be my mommy forever.
You will be my mommy forever.
And I love you forever.
Now go to sleep.
Sometimes, J can be a bit of a demon. But tonight's lullaby really made up for a lot.
Good night, J. Good night, N. I love you.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Fun with Dick and J
J got a small stuffed puppy dog toy with a happy meal a couple of weeks ago. He likes his puppy. Yesterday, J was drinking milk with a straw. He held his puppy up to the straw, and ...
J: Daddy, can you ask if my puppy is drinking my milk?
H: Ok. J, is your puppy drinking your milk?
J: No.
H: ...
Magic, I tell you! J is clearly destined for improv greatness.
**********
N, if you get so ticked off when your swing stops moving, perhaps you should stop grabbing its frame and manually stopping it. I do not enjoy being serenaded by the screams of rage that follow.
**********
In unrelated news, I find that I've lost another follower. That's two in the last couple of months. The first was after I'd posted a political diatribe, and I concluded I'd maybe caused some offense. I didn't mean to, but ... happens, I guess. (shrug)
Anyway, I'm not sure what happened this time. I'm pretty sure my last post wasn't offensive. Maybe our musical tastes differ? I'm just going to conclude that people use their readers for different purposes, and this isn't really that big a deal in the grand scheme of things. Even still, de-following a blog is a rather unfriendly gesture. I've never done it. But I figure, if it's done to me, I'll have to return the favour. Passive aggressive? Perhaps. But it seems fair and reasonable, so I'm going with it. ;)
'Kay. I'm over it. As we all know, I'm too busy to be terribly upset about this kind of thing. But I do like it when people choose to follow the blog. And I try to respond in kind. 'Cause that's how I roll. **
BTW - If you're following my blog and I haven't yet added you to my reader, it's probably just because you don't have the easy-click widget thingy displayed on your blog, and I have absolutely no idea how else to add you. Pathetic, I know, but still true. Add the easy-click widget thingy. You know you want to.
Updated to add:
I'm really not upset at all about the whole de-following thing. I know everybody's got their reasons for doing these things, and I'm mostly pretty laid-back about it. I just noted that I'm the third person in my little circle to have lost a follower in the last week, so I'm not quite sure what's up. That's why it feels unfriendly right now. We can't possibly follow everyone in bloggy land; must be selective in our reading. So ... no real issues here. :)
**********
** I try, but make no guarantees. Busy.
J: Daddy, can you ask if my puppy is drinking my milk?
H: Ok. J, is your puppy drinking your milk?
J: No.
H: ...
Magic, I tell you! J is clearly destined for improv greatness.
N, if you get so ticked off when your swing stops moving, perhaps you should stop grabbing its frame and manually stopping it. I do not enjoy being serenaded by the screams of rage that follow.
In unrelated news, I find that I've lost another follower. That's two in the last couple of months. The first was after I'd posted a political diatribe, and I concluded I'd maybe caused some offense. I didn't mean to, but ... happens, I guess. (shrug)
Anyway, I'm not sure what happened this time. I'm pretty sure my last post wasn't offensive. Maybe our musical tastes differ? I'm just going to conclude that people use their readers for different purposes, and this isn't really that big a deal in the grand scheme of things. Even still, de-following a blog is a rather unfriendly gesture. I've never done it. But I figure, if it's done to me, I'll have to return the favour. Passive aggressive? Perhaps. But it seems fair and reasonable, so I'm going with it. ;)
'Kay. I'm over it. As we all know, I'm too busy to be terribly upset about this kind of thing. But I do like it when people choose to follow the blog. And I try to respond in kind. 'Cause that's how I roll. **
BTW - If you're following my blog and I haven't yet added you to my reader, it's probably just because you don't have the easy-click widget thingy displayed on your blog, and I have absolutely no idea how else to add you. Pathetic, I know, but still true. Add the easy-click widget thingy. You know you want to.
Updated to add:
I'm really not upset at all about the whole de-following thing. I know everybody's got their reasons for doing these things, and I'm mostly pretty laid-back about it. I just noted that I'm the third person in my little circle to have lost a follower in the last week, so I'm not quite sure what's up. That's why it feels unfriendly right now. We can't possibly follow everyone in bloggy land; must be selective in our reading. So ... no real issues here. :)
** I try, but make no guarantees. Busy.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Wordful Wednesday
Is it just me, or should these guys all be suing each other?
As a point of note: playing any one of these songs will transfix N and make him stop screaming. Kid's got taste. 'Cause even if they are basically all the same song, they're still pretty.
As a point of note: playing any one of these songs will transfix N and make him stop screaming. Kid's got taste. 'Cause even if they are basically all the same song, they're still pretty.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The incredibly mediocre pretender
J is growing up. I love it and hate it all at once. The boy who, a few short months ago, would always say "I were" is now not only saying "I was" but is actually correcting the poor grammar of random cartoon characters.
J: How come he says "I did saw a puddy tat" instead of "I did see ..."?
(My BAAAAAAABY!!!!! *sob*)
And N is getting bigger and bigger, too. Today, we packed up his old clothes. My last baby. This kind of thing makes me happy and sad all at once. I'm glad he's growing, but I miss my tiny baby. Is it good? Is it bad? It's a toss-up, really.
**********
We took the kids to the ice festival. It was only slightly affected by the uncharacteristically warm weather. A chunk of one melty ice sculpture fell to the ground with a large clunk as we walked by. But J still got to go down the ice slides. And see the ice maze. And the dragon and dinosaur sculptures, and of course the big castle which they guarded, which was quite spectacular. So he had lots of fun. Hard to push a stroller through slush and crowds, but all told a good experience.
When we left, J decided that he was going to pretend to be the ice dragon. And H was to be the dinosaur.
H: And what's mommy? Is she the castle? Or the slide?
J: No. Mommy is the Ice Princess.
H: Oh!
J: And the dragon and the dinosaur will fight each other.
H: Really?
J: Yes. But the dragon will protect the Ice Princess.
H: Okay.
J: The dragon says "ROAR"! And the dinosaur says "ROAR"!
H: Okay. ROAR!
J: ROAR! And the dragon and the dinosaur fight.
H: And what does the Ice Princess do?
J: Nothing. She doesn't do anything. She just sits there in the chair.
H: She just sits there and does nothing while we try to kill each other?
J: Yes.
T: I was totally cut out for this job.
**********
Clearly, J is really into imaginative play now. But he's not so good with improvisation. As a result, J's particular brand of imaginative play is a bit tough to take for any extended period. It goes something like this.
J: I'm going to be the Mommy Ghost. And you be the Baby Ghost.
T: Ok. I'm Baby Ghost.
J: Hi. I'm Mommy Ghost.
T: Hi Mommy.
J: No! Mommy Ghost!
T: Oh, sorry. Hi Mommy Ghost.
J: Hi Baby Ghost. (pause) Baby Ghost?
T: Yes, Mommy Ghost?
J: Can you say "Where's my Mommy Ghost"?
T: Where's my Mommy Ghost?
J: Now laugh at this!
T: Ha ha ha ha ha!!
J: Good Baby Ghost. Now you can go to preschool!
And it only gets worse from there.
J: Daddy. Can you pretend to be the wishing well with the big purple light?
H: Ok. I'm the wishing well with the big purple light.
J: No! Talk like the wishing well!
H: (in the standard very deep voice he uses for all things inanimate) I'm the wishing well with the big purple light.
J: Hi wishing well with the big purple light.
H: Hi J.
J: Wishing well with the big purple light?
H: Yes, J.
J: Why do you have a big purple light?
H: I don't know. I just do.
J: No! You say "Because I'm the wishing well"!
H: Oh. Ok. Because I'm the wishing well.
J: Oh! (pause) Wishing well with the big purple light?
H: J, can I please talk to Mommy for a minute?
J: No! Wishing well with the big purple light?
It is at this point that H and I generally consider searching for a wishing well with a big purple light so we can jump in and just really wish for it to kill us quickly. But clearer heads prevail and we continue to play. If under protest.
**********
J likes things of the same basic shape and colour to be together. Especially if they are different sizes. He groups these things together all the time. And if you try to put anything away, he will flip out about it. His logic is quite rational, really.
J: No! This is the mommy yellow ball, and this is the baby yellow ball! They have to stay together!!
**********
A kid who constantly looks for the loophole, you really have to be specific when giving J directions. It is not sufficient to just say, for example, "Don't wake up your brother" ... he will plead ignorance when he does so. He needs detail. Such as:
T: J, please don't wake your brother. Don't scream his name. Or anything else. Or raise your voice. Or smack him on the head. Or pat him on the head. In fact, smacking or patting him at all is generally not okay right now. Don't pinch his cheeks. Or his hand. Or any other part of him. Or pull on his clothes. Or his feet. Or his hands. Or his head. Or anything else somehow attached to him. And don't push his swing. Or stop his swing. Or hammer, or saw, or screw his swing. Or jump up and down in front of him and shake his swing. Or throw your toys at his swing. Or at him. Or in his general direction. Or down the stairs. Or into that tree. Or any other tree. Maybe just don't throw things in general, okay? Just. Please. Don't. Wake. Your. Brother.
But he still finds a way. Oh yes, he does.
**********
And so it goes. This is our life. It's a good life. Really.
And I guess the good thing about them growing up is that their quality of imaginative play and interpretation is bound to improve as they age. Right?
Right?
Please?
J: How come he says "I did saw a puddy tat" instead of "I did see ..."?
(My BAAAAAAABY!!!!! *sob*)
And N is getting bigger and bigger, too. Today, we packed up his old clothes. My last baby. This kind of thing makes me happy and sad all at once. I'm glad he's growing, but I miss my tiny baby. Is it good? Is it bad? It's a toss-up, really.
We took the kids to the ice festival. It was only slightly affected by the uncharacteristically warm weather. A chunk of one melty ice sculpture fell to the ground with a large clunk as we walked by. But J still got to go down the ice slides. And see the ice maze. And the dragon and dinosaur sculptures, and of course the big castle which they guarded, which was quite spectacular. So he had lots of fun. Hard to push a stroller through slush and crowds, but all told a good experience.
When we left, J decided that he was going to pretend to be the ice dragon. And H was to be the dinosaur.
H: And what's mommy? Is she the castle? Or the slide?
J: No. Mommy is the Ice Princess.
H: Oh!
J: And the dragon and the dinosaur will fight each other.
H: Really?
J: Yes. But the dragon will protect the Ice Princess.
H: Okay.
J: The dragon says "ROAR"! And the dinosaur says "ROAR"!
H: Okay. ROAR!
J: ROAR! And the dragon and the dinosaur fight.
H: And what does the Ice Princess do?
J: Nothing. She doesn't do anything. She just sits there in the chair.
H: She just sits there and does nothing while we try to kill each other?
J: Yes.
T: I was totally cut out for this job.
Clearly, J is really into imaginative play now. But he's not so good with improvisation. As a result, J's particular brand of imaginative play is a bit tough to take for any extended period. It goes something like this.
J: I'm going to be the Mommy Ghost. And you be the Baby Ghost.
T: Ok. I'm Baby Ghost.
J: Hi. I'm Mommy Ghost.
T: Hi Mommy.
J: No! Mommy Ghost!
T: Oh, sorry. Hi Mommy Ghost.
J: Hi Baby Ghost. (pause) Baby Ghost?
T: Yes, Mommy Ghost?
J: Can you say "Where's my Mommy Ghost"?
T: Where's my Mommy Ghost?
J: Now laugh at this!
T: Ha ha ha ha ha!!
J: Good Baby Ghost. Now you can go to preschool!
And it only gets worse from there.
J: Daddy. Can you pretend to be the wishing well with the big purple light?
H: Ok. I'm the wishing well with the big purple light.
J: No! Talk like the wishing well!
H: (in the standard very deep voice he uses for all things inanimate) I'm the wishing well with the big purple light.
J: Hi wishing well with the big purple light.
H: Hi J.
J: Wishing well with the big purple light?
H: Yes, J.
J: Why do you have a big purple light?
H: I don't know. I just do.
J: No! You say "Because I'm the wishing well"!
H: Oh. Ok. Because I'm the wishing well.
J: Oh! (pause) Wishing well with the big purple light?
H: J, can I please talk to Mommy for a minute?
J: No! Wishing well with the big purple light?
It is at this point that H and I generally consider searching for a wishing well with a big purple light so we can jump in and just really wish for it to kill us quickly. But clearer heads prevail and we continue to play. If under protest.
J likes things of the same basic shape and colour to be together. Especially if they are different sizes. He groups these things together all the time. And if you try to put anything away, he will flip out about it. His logic is quite rational, really.
J: No! This is the mommy yellow ball, and this is the baby yellow ball! They have to stay together!!
A kid who constantly looks for the loophole, you really have to be specific when giving J directions. It is not sufficient to just say, for example, "Don't wake up your brother" ... he will plead ignorance when he does so. He needs detail. Such as:
T: J, please don't wake your brother. Don't scream his name. Or anything else. Or raise your voice. Or smack him on the head. Or pat him on the head. In fact, smacking or patting him at all is generally not okay right now. Don't pinch his cheeks. Or his hand. Or any other part of him. Or pull on his clothes. Or his feet. Or his hands. Or his head. Or anything else somehow attached to him. And don't push his swing. Or stop his swing. Or hammer, or saw, or screw his swing. Or jump up and down in front of him and shake his swing. Or throw your toys at his swing. Or at him. Or in his general direction. Or down the stairs. Or into that tree. Or any other tree. Maybe just don't throw things in general, okay? Just. Please. Don't. Wake. Your. Brother.
But he still finds a way. Oh yes, he does.
And so it goes. This is our life. It's a good life. Really.
And I guess the good thing about them growing up is that their quality of imaginative play and interpretation is bound to improve as they age. Right?
Right?
Please?
Thursday, January 15, 2009
T has a baby
T has a baby.
The baby has croup.
The baby coughs and coughs.
The coughing wakes T.
And the baby is held.
The baby is held.
Cuddled close.
The baby breathes in the cold night air.
His swollen air passages shrink a bit.
And the baby drifts back into fitful slumber.
Only to awaken at the next coughing fit.
Over and over.
This can't be good.
The croupy baby needs sleep.
The croupy baby needs sleep.
Rest will help.
If the baby will sleep, he will recover.
But the baby coughs and coughs.
And the baby wakes up.
Over and over again.
With a scary sounding barking cough.
And the baby needs a doctor.
The baby sees a doctor.
The doctor hears the croupy cough.
The doctor prescribes a steroid.
The steroid will help shrink the air passages.
But the steroid causes insomnia.
And the baby does not sleep.
Ever.
So neither does anyone else.
Because the baby is sick.
The baby is sick.
The baby wants his mommy.
And if the baby cannot see his mommy, he cries.
So T cannot lie down.
Because the baby will not permit it.
The baby wants to lie down and gaze at T.
Who must be sitting up.
If T lies down, the baby cries.
If the baby is not lying down, then the baby wants to be held upright.
And T complies.
Because she loves the croupy baby.
T loves the croupy baby.
But she has a migraine.
And she is very very tired.
T has been up for the past two nights with croupy baby.
And croupy baby awoke today at 4:00 a.m.
And cried.
And cried.
And T held the baby.
T holds the baby.
Stares deeply into his eyes.
And tells the baby how much she loves him.
And the baby smiles and coos.
Stuffed up and sickly, but no longer struggling for breath.
And life is good.
Life is good.
For the baby.
But if T doesn't get some sleep soon, her head will explode.
Migraines are like that.
And a babysitter is not an option.
Because the baby is sick.
The baby is sick.
So T sits upright.
Where the baby may gaze at her.
And she tries to make him feel better.
As her head throbs.
Someday, the baby will sleep.
And then, T will sleep also.
But for now, sleep will wait.
Because T has a baby.
T has a baby.
The baby has croup.
The baby coughs and coughs.
The coughing wakes T.
And the baby is held.
The baby is held.
Cuddled close.
The baby breathes in the cold night air.
His swollen air passages shrink a bit.
And the baby drifts back into fitful slumber.
Only to awaken at the next coughing fit.
Over and over.
This can't be good.
The croupy baby needs sleep.
The croupy baby needs sleep.
Rest will help.
If the baby will sleep, he will recover.
But the baby coughs and coughs.
And the baby wakes up.
Over and over again.
With a scary sounding barking cough.
And the baby needs a doctor.
The baby sees a doctor.
The doctor hears the croupy cough.
The doctor prescribes a steroid.
The steroid will help shrink the air passages.
But the steroid causes insomnia.
And the baby does not sleep.
Ever.
So neither does anyone else.
Because the baby is sick.
The baby is sick.
The baby wants his mommy.
And if the baby cannot see his mommy, he cries.
So T cannot lie down.
Because the baby will not permit it.
The baby wants to lie down and gaze at T.
Who must be sitting up.
If T lies down, the baby cries.
If the baby is not lying down, then the baby wants to be held upright.
And T complies.
Because she loves the croupy baby.
T loves the croupy baby.
But she has a migraine.
And she is very very tired.
T has been up for the past two nights with croupy baby.
And croupy baby awoke today at 4:00 a.m.
And cried.
And cried.
And T held the baby.
T holds the baby.
Stares deeply into his eyes.
And tells the baby how much she loves him.
And the baby smiles and coos.
Stuffed up and sickly, but no longer struggling for breath.
And life is good.
Life is good.
For the baby.
But if T doesn't get some sleep soon, her head will explode.
Migraines are like that.
And a babysitter is not an option.
Because the baby is sick.
The baby is sick.
So T sits upright.
Where the baby may gaze at her.
And she tries to make him feel better.
As her head throbs.
Someday, the baby will sleep.
And then, T will sleep also.
But for now, sleep will wait.
Because T has a baby.
T has a baby.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Who do you love?
Okay. I've linked up to other bloggers for about a week now, and I feel pretty good about that. There may well be more to come, 'cause many of my favourite blogs weren't showcased there. But for now, I'm interested in hearing your thoughts and recommendations. What are your favourite blogs? Come on ... give me something to read! ('Cause God knows, I don't already spend more than enough time on the Internet.)
So, okay. You can tell me in the comments. Or you can post on your own site and just let me know about it here. But however you do it, I want to know all about your favourite reads. So tell me ... who do you love?
Gotta go. N is screaming again. One day, I'll try to record this sound for posterity. For now, just know that he sounds sort of like a cross between the attacking Velociraptors from the first Jurassic Park movie ... and Doris the Finkasaurus from The Flintstones' "Son of Rockzilla" episode. Only, you know, far louder and more annoying than either of those.
So, okay. You can tell me in the comments. Or you can post on your own site and just let me know about it here. But however you do it, I want to know all about your favourite reads. So tell me ... who do you love?
Gotta go. N is screaming again. One day, I'll try to record this sound for posterity. For now, just know that he sounds sort of like a cross between the attacking Velociraptors from the first Jurassic Park movie ... and Doris the Finkasaurus from The Flintstones' "Son of Rockzilla" episode. Only, you know, far louder and more annoying than either of those.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Santa Baby
Wishing you all the best for a happy holiday season!
(This photo of N was taken by Draya's Mom over at Draya's Diary. She takes mighty good pictures, huh?)
(This photo of N was taken by Draya's Mom over at Draya's Diary. She takes mighty good pictures, huh?)
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Baby got teeth
So, N cut his very first tooth today. Just a tiny little speck peeking out from his bottom gums, but sharp as all get out. No wonder he was acting so grumpy. His cheeks are all red, and he's been lapping up the Tylenol. Quite inconsollable. Sure must hurt him. Hurts me too. Every time he bites.
**********
I'm still pretty sick. The cough has turned bad. I'll omit details, because it's gross and nobody really wants to read the finer points about what you coughed up today. But it's been rough, and I'm really tired, and then I started fearing really bad stuff, because that's what you do when you're displaying truly awful symptomology for more than a few days. So I headed to a walk-in clinic this evening to get things checked out. Two hours later, we knew with certainty that it's nothing especially horrible. But it's not just the common cold either. I've got bronchitis. So I have an antibiotic, and some Codeine cough syrup, and I'll hopefully be feeling better in a few days. Chest x-ray scheduled for the new year, just to make sure things are okay because ... well ... gross details omitted again. But I'm sure the x-ray will be all clear, and everything will be just fine.
("Am I contagious?", I asked. "No. You're infectious", came the doctor's reply. I just love semantics, don't you?)
I got home from the doctor after picking up my antibiotic. I told H I have bronchitis. That's why I've been so sick. That's why my energy has been shot. I want to take my drugs and pass out now, so I can get better. H responded to my glassy-eyed stare by telling me that he's just exhausted tonight, and then asking me to please put both kids to bed and help him carry J's big Christmas present down to the basement before taking the smaller one down by myself, and also, could I please wash the dishes and cook up those pork chops tomorrow. Then he proceeded to lay down on the couch and watch an episode of Law & Order before having a leisurely bath and going to bed before me.
I didn't even kill him a little bit. Too tired. Maybe tomorrow.
I'm still pretty sick. The cough has turned bad. I'll omit details, because it's gross and nobody really wants to read the finer points about what you coughed up today. But it's been rough, and I'm really tired, and then I started fearing really bad stuff, because that's what you do when you're displaying truly awful symptomology for more than a few days. So I headed to a walk-in clinic this evening to get things checked out. Two hours later, we knew with certainty that it's nothing especially horrible. But it's not just the common cold either. I've got bronchitis. So I have an antibiotic, and some Codeine cough syrup, and I'll hopefully be feeling better in a few days. Chest x-ray scheduled for the new year, just to make sure things are okay because ... well ... gross details omitted again. But I'm sure the x-ray will be all clear, and everything will be just fine.
("Am I contagious?", I asked. "No. You're infectious", came the doctor's reply. I just love semantics, don't you?)
I got home from the doctor after picking up my antibiotic. I told H I have bronchitis. That's why I've been so sick. That's why my energy has been shot. I want to take my drugs and pass out now, so I can get better. H responded to my glassy-eyed stare by telling me that he's just exhausted tonight, and then asking me to please put both kids to bed and help him carry J's big Christmas present down to the basement before taking the smaller one down by myself, and also, could I please wash the dishes and cook up those pork chops tomorrow. Then he proceeded to lay down on the couch and watch an episode of Law & Order before having a leisurely bath and going to bed before me.
I didn't even kill him a little bit. Too tired. Maybe tomorrow.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
You've got a friend in me
J and N had a doctor's appointment this week. Waiting in the doctor's office, J suddenly hugged N and said:
J: You're the best baby in the whole wide world. You're my best friend, and I'll never let anything happen to you.
I hope my boys are always this close. Aren't they cute?
Sorry for the brevity, and for my recent absence around my favourite blogs. Still sick. Back soon.
J: You're the best baby in the whole wide world. You're my best friend, and I'll never let anything happen to you.
I hope my boys are always this close. Aren't they cute?
Sorry for the brevity, and for my recent absence around my favourite blogs. Still sick. Back soon.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Ooh baby, it's freakishly cold outside
So, I came up with this awesome flowchart to remember eleven of the different variance analysis formulas I may need for my exam. It's complex and detailed, but it works like a charm. Easy to remember, it can be reproduced with pen and paper in under a minute. I posted it in the course forum for all of my classmates. The course director reviewed it and wrote me to say "This is amazing!", and so I feel all smart. I am flattered. But not so flattered as to do something stupid like reproduce a management accounting variance analysis flowchart here. Because it's ridiculously dull, and no one wants to see that.
Instead, I present random cuteness from our "winter attire" catalogue.
Baby N is wearing a fleecy that will soon not be warm enough, given our cold northern climes. But for now, he is all warm and fuzzy. And quite adorable, if you'll take J's word for it. J says "Awww. He's soooo cute. Is he a sheepy?" And then he taunts N by making "baa baa" noises at him. For about an hour. Then the novelty wore off. (Thank God!)
J sports the coolest winter coat I have ever seen. We found it a couple of years ago; a brand new item buried in a clearance rack, sporting a sweet $3 price tag. Obviously, we nabbed it knowing he'd grow into it eventually. The eyes on the hood double as reflectors for nighttime safety. And it has a detachable black cape on the back, for extra Batman authenticity. (But why a person would detach it, I can't imagine. 'Cause I think it's awesome!) J's hands are a bit blurred in the picture. He was excited about being a bat here, and he was flapping his "wings" excitedly.
So, how about you? Is your family all outfitted for winter? Is your weather already freakishly cold? Do you enjoy snow and winter sports in general? Or do you wish we could just skip those eight months in their entirety? (Yes. I said "eight months". It's terribly cold up here.)
Instead, I present random cuteness from our "winter attire" catalogue.
Baby N is wearing a fleecy that will soon not be warm enough, given our cold northern climes. But for now, he is all warm and fuzzy. And quite adorable, if you'll take J's word for it. J says "Awww. He's soooo cute. Is he a sheepy?" And then he taunts N by making "baa baa" noises at him. For about an hour. Then the novelty wore off. (Thank God!)
J sports the coolest winter coat I have ever seen. We found it a couple of years ago; a brand new item buried in a clearance rack, sporting a sweet $3 price tag. Obviously, we nabbed it knowing he'd grow into it eventually. The eyes on the hood double as reflectors for nighttime safety. And it has a detachable black cape on the back, for extra Batman authenticity. (But why a person would detach it, I can't imagine. 'Cause I think it's awesome!) J's hands are a bit blurred in the picture. He was excited about being a bat here, and he was flapping his "wings" excitedly.
So, how about you? Is your family all outfitted for winter? Is your weather already freakishly cold? Do you enjoy snow and winter sports in general? Or do you wish we could just skip those eight months in their entirety? (Yes. I said "eight months". It's terribly cold up here.)
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The Spin Cycle: My favourite things
I'm feeling a little bit more positive today. (This is no doubt due in part to my discovery that eleven of the seventeen formulas I have to learn for Module 2 are interconnected. As long as I can remember the web that connects them to each other, I should be okay with them. Now to learn everything else. The "Exam Formulas" link over on the right? Don't click it. It's seriously just exam formulas I still need to learn. It will bore you. Enough about the exam for now. It will be okay. I think.)
Today, I learned that the knee has healed up enough to be able to withstand physio. So that's fantastic news, as it means things are improving.
Also today, N turned six months old. He eats like a little piggy, in direct contrast to his older brother, and is getting quite plump. Granny calls him her little butterball. A six-month-birthday post will be written when I have more energy.
The kids got up early today. The doctor's office was a long wait. There was considerable studying today. And now, I am tired. And lazy. And it seemed like a good time to just give up and go for the archives. How convenient that Sprite's Keeper has asked us to revive our old favourite posts for this week's Spin Cycle!
(I love her!)
I don't have much to grab, to be frank. Until late August this year, this was one of those private unsearchable blogs for a few family and friends, and so older posts were not written with due care and attention, and are totally not suitable for re-posting. What to do ... what to do ...
It is my understanding that American Thanksgiving is coming up soon. In celebration, I give you my post from Canadian Thanksgiving. Which was over a month ago. Because we're awesome like that up here, and we don't believe in waiting a month when turkey can be eaten right now. Seriously. What's wrong with you people?
Oh, whatever. Just ... Here ya go!
**********
Now it's turkish delight on a moonlit night
Today is Canadian Thanksgiving. In our household, it goes something like this.
**********
H: J, put your shoes on please.
J: I got the green!
T: J, can you please move that toy?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna take this hammer!
H: Fine. But put your shoes on please.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J, I really need you to move this.
H: Please do what your mother tells you.
J: I got that green, too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Come on! I need to pee!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Why did you take your pants off, J?
J: I ... um ... can't remember.
T: I can't get around that toy, J. It's too big.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: N's crying.
T: J! Will you please move that toy!
H: J! Pants! On!
T: Honey, you're confusing him.
J: I wanna take this saw too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop.
J: I want chocolate!
H: No, J. We're going to have dinner.
T: Pants! Toy! Now!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I want chocolate!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Please? Please move the toy?
H: No chocolate! Listen!!
T: (Singing to N) Rock-a-bye, baby ...
H: J, put your pants back on.
J: Why?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Because I asked you to!
T: ... when the wind blows ...
J: But I want ... um ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: I am tired of you saying "I want"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ... the cradle will fall ...
J: But Daaaaadddddyyyyy!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want ...
H: Stop saying that!
T: Please stop crying, N? *sob*
J: Whyyyy??
T: H, can you move the toy?
H: J! Move that toy!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J? Please?
H: Why won't you listen, J?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna watch "The Incredibles"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop crying!
T: What?! No! We are not watching a movie!
J: But Mooooommmmyyyy!
T: I said no!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: J! Put your pants on!
J: Umm ... I ... I wanna ... umm ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Enough! I need to pee! Move the toy!!
J: I give you the toy!
H: Good, J. Now please, put your pants back on.
T: Thank you, J.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: You're welcome, Momma.
H: N! Please?!
J: Can we watch "The Incredibles"?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: No, J. It's time to go!
T: How are you doing, honey?
H: Just great! J?! Now!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I'm just spinning!
T: I'll be right there!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Okay. Can we go?
H: J! Pants!
J: Um ... oh! Okay!
H: Thank you, J.
T: Okay. Now can you put your shoes on?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want my boots!
T: No. You need to wear shoes.
J: But I want my boots!
H: No, J! Shoes! Put them on!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: ...
**********
Today, I am thankful that H didn't just drive off the embankment on the way to his brother's house for Thanksgiving. Thanks, Hon!
And Happy Turkey Day!!
**********
So yeah. That was the post. Heartfelt family moments. Still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Now go visit Sprite's Keeper and put your spin on it!
Today, I learned that the knee has healed up enough to be able to withstand physio. So that's fantastic news, as it means things are improving.
Also today, N turned six months old. He eats like a little piggy, in direct contrast to his older brother, and is getting quite plump. Granny calls him her little butterball. A six-month-birthday post will be written when I have more energy.
The kids got up early today. The doctor's office was a long wait. There was considerable studying today. And now, I am tired. And lazy. And it seemed like a good time to just give up and go for the archives. How convenient that Sprite's Keeper has asked us to revive our old favourite posts for this week's Spin Cycle!
(I love her!)
I don't have much to grab, to be frank. Until late August this year, this was one of those private unsearchable blogs for a few family and friends, and so older posts were not written with due care and attention, and are totally not suitable for re-posting. What to do ... what to do ...
It is my understanding that American Thanksgiving is coming up soon. In celebration, I give you my post from Canadian Thanksgiving. Which was over a month ago. Because we're awesome like that up here, and we don't believe in waiting a month when turkey can be eaten right now. Seriously. What's wrong with you people?
Oh, whatever. Just ... Here ya go!
Now it's turkish delight on a moonlit night
Today is Canadian Thanksgiving. In our household, it goes something like this.
H: J, put your shoes on please.
J: I got the green!
T: J, can you please move that toy?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna take this hammer!
H: Fine. But put your shoes on please.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J, I really need you to move this.
H: Please do what your mother tells you.
J: I got that green, too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Come on! I need to pee!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Why did you take your pants off, J?
J: I ... um ... can't remember.
T: I can't get around that toy, J. It's too big.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: N's crying.
T: J! Will you please move that toy!
H: J! Pants! On!
T: Honey, you're confusing him.
J: I wanna take this saw too!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop.
J: I want chocolate!
H: No, J. We're going to have dinner.
T: Pants! Toy! Now!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I want chocolate!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Please? Please move the toy?
H: No chocolate! Listen!!
T: (Singing to N) Rock-a-bye, baby ...
H: J, put your pants back on.
J: Why?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: Because I asked you to!
T: ... when the wind blows ...
J: But I want ... um ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: I am tired of you saying "I want"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ... the cradle will fall ...
J: But Daaaaadddddyyyyy!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want ...
H: Stop saying that!
T: Please stop crying, N? *sob*
J: Whyyyy??
T: H, can you move the toy?
H: J! Move that toy!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: J? Please?
H: Why won't you listen, J?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I wanna watch "The Incredibles"!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: N, please stop crying!
T: What?! No! We are not watching a movie!
J: But Mooooommmmyyyy!
T: I said no!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: J! Put your pants on!
J: Umm ... I ... I wanna ... umm ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Enough! I need to pee! Move the toy!!
J: I give you the toy!
H: Good, J. Now please, put your pants back on.
T: Thank you, J.
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: You're welcome, Momma.
H: N! Please?!
J: Can we watch "The Incredibles"?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: No, J. It's time to go!
T: How are you doing, honey?
H: Just great! J?! Now!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: But I'm just spinning!
T: I'll be right there!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: Okay. Can we go?
H: J! Pants!
J: Um ... oh! Okay!
H: Thank you, J.
T: Okay. Now can you put your shoes on?
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: I want my boots!
T: No. You need to wear shoes.
J: But I want my boots!
H: No, J! Shoes! Put them on!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
J: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
T: ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAH!!!
H: ...
Today, I am thankful that H didn't just drive off the embankment on the way to his brother's house for Thanksgiving. Thanks, Hon!
And Happy Turkey Day!!
So yeah. That was the post. Heartfelt family moments. Still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Now go visit Sprite's Keeper and put your spin on it!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Master of the house
Once upon a time, there was a kingdom. In the kingdom lived a happy king and a happy queen. King H and Queen T could do whatever they wished. They had lots of money, slept late on weekends, and could watch any television programs that they chose. And there was much rejoicing throughout the land.
One day, a brave knight named Sir J arrived at the kingdom and there was much rejoicing. But Sir J screamed and cried and needed much care. And as he grew, he became a total crankypants. He took some of the money. And some of the sleep. And most of the television programming became much more cartoonish. King H and Queen T were happy to have Sir J in their kingdom, but they were also very tired, a fact that made them cross much more frequently. But King H and Queen T and Sir J all learned to live together, for the most part in peace and harmony, and life was mostly good.
A few years passed, and a baby named N arrived at the kingdom and there was much rejoicing. N was a good baby. A sweet baby. He loved to eat and sleep and be played with, and he rewarded all of his minions with many smiles and giggles. And though he too took some of the money and some of the sleep, the kingdom continued to function well. Everybody loved N, as he was very cute and very chubby and very happy. Sir J loved N very deeply, and sang to him, and offered him many toys. And despite the poverty, exhaustion, and cartoonish television programming, the kingdom was essentially a happy place.
And then N started to cut teeth. And he developed a loud and high pitched shriek, the likes of which has never been heard. And upon seeing how everyone raced to his aid when he made that noise, N decided to use it for everything. And the kingdom became a much louder place. King H and Queen T were very tired and cross. Even Sir J became frustrated with his beloved N. And while he continued to sing songs to N, they were delivered in loud staccato tones. Finally, having reached the conclusion that all babies cry all of the time, Sir J began to search for a solution.
**********
After a particularly bad night with resultant morning drama, this conversation was heard in the kingdom:
H: I didn't order a baby that cries all the time. It must have been you.
T: I didn't do it either. Maybe we could trade him in for another baby.
H: (incredulously) Another baby?
T: Or, you know, something else. Like maybe a fish tank.
H: Or magic beans.
J: Or a play-doh barber shop?
**********
And this is how Sir J became the owner of a brand new play-doh barber shop. You can't judge us. You weren't there.
One day, a brave knight named Sir J arrived at the kingdom and there was much rejoicing. But Sir J screamed and cried and needed much care. And as he grew, he became a total crankypants. He took some of the money. And some of the sleep. And most of the television programming became much more cartoonish. King H and Queen T were happy to have Sir J in their kingdom, but they were also very tired, a fact that made them cross much more frequently. But King H and Queen T and Sir J all learned to live together, for the most part in peace and harmony, and life was mostly good.
A few years passed, and a baby named N arrived at the kingdom and there was much rejoicing. N was a good baby. A sweet baby. He loved to eat and sleep and be played with, and he rewarded all of his minions with many smiles and giggles. And though he too took some of the money and some of the sleep, the kingdom continued to function well. Everybody loved N, as he was very cute and very chubby and very happy. Sir J loved N very deeply, and sang to him, and offered him many toys. And despite the poverty, exhaustion, and cartoonish television programming, the kingdom was essentially a happy place.
And then N started to cut teeth. And he developed a loud and high pitched shriek, the likes of which has never been heard. And upon seeing how everyone raced to his aid when he made that noise, N decided to use it for everything. And the kingdom became a much louder place. King H and Queen T were very tired and cross. Even Sir J became frustrated with his beloved N. And while he continued to sing songs to N, they were delivered in loud staccato tones. Finally, having reached the conclusion that all babies cry all of the time, Sir J began to search for a solution.
After a particularly bad night with resultant morning drama, this conversation was heard in the kingdom:
H: I didn't order a baby that cries all the time. It must have been you.
T: I didn't do it either. Maybe we could trade him in for another baby.
H: (incredulously) Another baby?
T: Or, you know, something else. Like maybe a fish tank.
H: Or magic beans.
J: Or a play-doh barber shop?
And this is how Sir J became the owner of a brand new play-doh barber shop. You can't judge us. You weren't there.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
On this day
Today is an anniversary.
I didn't blog much in 2007. I was really busy. And my mood was altered. And so, there is no entry to refer back to. But I remember the day. One year ago today.
H and I had difficulty conceiving our children. I had to take Clomid. And some other stuff as well, which I won't get into here. The medication has certain side effects that aren't at all pleasant. But ultimately, we got pregnant. Twice. So it was all worthwhile.
We were in Maui last September. And it was there that we learned that we were going to have a second child. We were ecstatic. And thankfully, the morning sickness didn't start until a few weeks post-vacation, so we still had a good time.
We came home and settled back into our routine. I went back to work. But the morning sickness was so awful this time around that I had trouble coping and keeping to my schedule, and I was taken out of work at the end of October. The plan was to return to work when the morning sickness subsided. Shortly thereafter, that plan was abandoned.
On this day last year, I was 10 weeks pregnant and suffering pronounced morning sickness. I was home alone with J, who had just gone down for his afternoon nap. I put a few toys away. And then I phoned H and my mother in a panic. There was blood. Red blood. Lots and lots of red blood.
I laid down and awaited their arrival. Mom would stay with J while H and I went to the emergency room.
We were scared. The bleed with J hadn't happened until I was 18 weeks along. J's issue was an abrupted placenta. And I ended up on bed rest for a combined total of 5 months. But this was different. This was earlier. And there was even more blood. I thought I'd lost my baby.
We arrived at the emergency room and were quickly seen. It seemed that history was repeating, and no one wanted to take chances. A check showed that I had not miscarried. "Threatened abortion" is the distasteful term given; it means "threatened miscarriage". I was put on rest, pending discussion with my obstetrician. A phone call and a couple of emails later, and I learned that my obstetrician wanted me to remain on bed rest until at least 20 weeks gestation. While it was too small to visualize on ultrasound, the symptomology indicated that the placenta was detatching. A second pregnancy, and a second abruption.
And ultimately, a second live birth. A second miracle.
I didn't get off bed rest until I was at 37 weeks. The bleeding just never resolved. And there were other complications that kept cropping up. It was hard. But it was worth it. I have my boys; my miracles.
On this day, we learned that a rare complication can still happen, and that it can occur more than once, defying probabilities. We learned that I just don't carry well, and we decided not to have any more children. And some days that saddens me, but it is for the best. Because neither H nor I ever want to go through that fear again, and we now know that it would happen.
Today is an anniversary. It marks a moment. Something we will always remember. On this day, we learned that our child was still with us, despite the complications and misgivings. We banded together as a family, with faith to beat the odds. We received help from family and friends. Prayer chains were begun and continued for seven months. We received support from others, too. Coworkers. Employers. Doctors.
Thanks to all of these, our miracle is here today.
Today is a good day.
I didn't blog much in 2007. I was really busy. And my mood was altered. And so, there is no entry to refer back to. But I remember the day. One year ago today.
H and I had difficulty conceiving our children. I had to take Clomid. And some other stuff as well, which I won't get into here. The medication has certain side effects that aren't at all pleasant. But ultimately, we got pregnant. Twice. So it was all worthwhile.
We were in Maui last September. And it was there that we learned that we were going to have a second child. We were ecstatic. And thankfully, the morning sickness didn't start until a few weeks post-vacation, so we still had a good time.
We came home and settled back into our routine. I went back to work. But the morning sickness was so awful this time around that I had trouble coping and keeping to my schedule, and I was taken out of work at the end of October. The plan was to return to work when the morning sickness subsided. Shortly thereafter, that plan was abandoned.
On this day last year, I was 10 weeks pregnant and suffering pronounced morning sickness. I was home alone with J, who had just gone down for his afternoon nap. I put a few toys away. And then I phoned H and my mother in a panic. There was blood. Red blood. Lots and lots of red blood.
I laid down and awaited their arrival. Mom would stay with J while H and I went to the emergency room.
We were scared. The bleed with J hadn't happened until I was 18 weeks along. J's issue was an abrupted placenta. And I ended up on bed rest for a combined total of 5 months. But this was different. This was earlier. And there was even more blood. I thought I'd lost my baby.
We arrived at the emergency room and were quickly seen. It seemed that history was repeating, and no one wanted to take chances. A check showed that I had not miscarried. "Threatened abortion" is the distasteful term given; it means "threatened miscarriage". I was put on rest, pending discussion with my obstetrician. A phone call and a couple of emails later, and I learned that my obstetrician wanted me to remain on bed rest until at least 20 weeks gestation. While it was too small to visualize on ultrasound, the symptomology indicated that the placenta was detatching. A second pregnancy, and a second abruption.
And ultimately, a second live birth. A second miracle.
I didn't get off bed rest until I was at 37 weeks. The bleeding just never resolved. And there were other complications that kept cropping up. It was hard. But it was worth it. I have my boys; my miracles.
On this day, we learned that a rare complication can still happen, and that it can occur more than once, defying probabilities. We learned that I just don't carry well, and we decided not to have any more children. And some days that saddens me, but it is for the best. Because neither H nor I ever want to go through that fear again, and we now know that it would happen.
Today is an anniversary. It marks a moment. Something we will always remember. On this day, we learned that our child was still with us, despite the complications and misgivings. We banded together as a family, with faith to beat the odds. We received help from family and friends. Prayer chains were begun and continued for seven months. We received support from others, too. Coworkers. Employers. Doctors.
Thanks to all of these, our miracle is here today.
Today is a good day.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Time in a bottle
N is 5 months old today. I did a 5-month retrospective with pictures of J at this time three years ago. (It's here, if you want to see.) Thought the same type of thing would be appropriate for N. So here we go:
N at birth:
N at one month old:
N at two months old:
N at three months old:
N at four months old:
N at five months old:
They get so big so fast. I love you, baby N. No matter how big you get, you will always be my baby. Happy five month birthday, my sweet little man. Big sloppy kisses!
N at birth:
N at one month old:
N at two months old:
N at three months old:
N at four months old:
N at five months old:
They get so big so fast. I love you, baby N. No matter how big you get, you will always be my baby. Happy five month birthday, my sweet little man. Big sloppy kisses!
Who got no regrets?
I feel badly for J. I was a really uptight mother with him. He has taught me well, and I'm much more laid back with N.
When I tried to feed J cereal, I followed all the expert advice. I read books. I spoke with doctors, dieticians, and community health nurses. I was neurotic to a flaw. I'd forgotten how upset I got when he refused to cooperate. Thankfully, I have this blog. If you want to see the insane neurotic ramblings, they may be found here. I'm quite surprised no one said "Take a pill or something, T! It's just rice cereal!!" But everyone handled things with good natured advice and understanding. Score for good friends who let me be me, crazed though I be.
N started cereal tonight. I paid no heed to books this go-round, and trusted my instincts. Not because I'd forgotten all the good advice, (though I had). And not because I didn't care as much, (because I sure do). I just went with what was easiest and what seemed natural. Whatever.
I strapped N in his highchair. He was good and hungry, as I hadn't breastfed him beforehand. He was unimpressed with being hungry in the highchair. I mixed his cereal up, in a randomly selected bowl. It had a picture of Pooh bear with his head stuck in a honey pot. I mixed up the cereal with formula, using a randomly selected plastic-covered baby spoon (it was purple). I measured nothing. Poured rice cereal into the bowl until it looked like about a tablespoon, then added room temperature formula until it was runny. It was too runny, so I added a bit more cereal. Stirred it up, grabbed a plate of pizza for myself, and headed to the table to the screaming N.
I spooned a couple of mouthfuls of cereal into N's screaming open mouth. Then when the cereal started to fall out onto his sleeper, I sent H in search of a bib and baby washcloth, both of which I'd forgotten. As N didn't calm down, I pulled him out of the highchair and cuddled him close. I fed him the rest of his cereal and simultaneously ate my dinner as he cuddled in my lap. I never did get around to putting the bib on him, as it was easier not to worry about it. N ate the whole bowl of rice cereal without issue. He still seemed good and hungry. So I washed his face and hands, and offered him some formula. He polished off the entire bottle of formula. And then he breastfed for a bit until he nodded off.
He sleeps happily in his swing now.
I wish I'd been more easygoing with J. I would have had an easier time of things. So would he. But I was so overwrought and out of my element. Suffering from PPD, scared to death of life with a newborn, and stressing about every lttle thing. If I could go back in time, I'd do it differently. I wish I could. Maybe J would be a better eater now had I been a better mother then. But I wasn't. And so J suffers from eating difficulties and doesn't grow, and I blame myself.
I can't undo it, and I wish I could.
**********
N is 5 months old today. There will be a photo retrospective coming, so stay tuned!
When I tried to feed J cereal, I followed all the expert advice. I read books. I spoke with doctors, dieticians, and community health nurses. I was neurotic to a flaw. I'd forgotten how upset I got when he refused to cooperate. Thankfully, I have this blog. If you want to see the insane neurotic ramblings, they may be found here. I'm quite surprised no one said "Take a pill or something, T! It's just rice cereal!!" But everyone handled things with good natured advice and understanding. Score for good friends who let me be me, crazed though I be.
N started cereal tonight. I paid no heed to books this go-round, and trusted my instincts. Not because I'd forgotten all the good advice, (though I had). And not because I didn't care as much, (because I sure do). I just went with what was easiest and what seemed natural. Whatever.
I strapped N in his highchair. He was good and hungry, as I hadn't breastfed him beforehand. He was unimpressed with being hungry in the highchair. I mixed his cereal up, in a randomly selected bowl. It had a picture of Pooh bear with his head stuck in a honey pot. I mixed up the cereal with formula, using a randomly selected plastic-covered baby spoon (it was purple). I measured nothing. Poured rice cereal into the bowl until it looked like about a tablespoon, then added room temperature formula until it was runny. It was too runny, so I added a bit more cereal. Stirred it up, grabbed a plate of pizza for myself, and headed to the table to the screaming N.
I spooned a couple of mouthfuls of cereal into N's screaming open mouth. Then when the cereal started to fall out onto his sleeper, I sent H in search of a bib and baby washcloth, both of which I'd forgotten. As N didn't calm down, I pulled him out of the highchair and cuddled him close. I fed him the rest of his cereal and simultaneously ate my dinner as he cuddled in my lap. I never did get around to putting the bib on him, as it was easier not to worry about it. N ate the whole bowl of rice cereal without issue. He still seemed good and hungry. So I washed his face and hands, and offered him some formula. He polished off the entire bottle of formula. And then he breastfed for a bit until he nodded off.
He sleeps happily in his swing now.
I wish I'd been more easygoing with J. I would have had an easier time of things. So would he. But I was so overwrought and out of my element. Suffering from PPD, scared to death of life with a newborn, and stressing about every lttle thing. If I could go back in time, I'd do it differently. I wish I could. Maybe J would be a better eater now had I been a better mother then. But I wasn't. And so J suffers from eating difficulties and doesn't grow, and I blame myself.
I can't undo it, and I wish I could.
N is 5 months old today. There will be a photo retrospective coming, so stay tuned!
Friday, October 17, 2008
It's gonna be a bright sunshiny flipping day
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day.
- Johnny Nash
People say don't ever look behind.
Happiness is just a state of mind.
- Triumph
Piss off, both of you! What do you know?
- Momma Trish
**********
The good thing about having a child who doesn't eat is that when his growth becomes severely stunted, you get to spend a lot less on Halloween costumes.
Yes, the 3-1/2 year old J, weighing in at 26 lbs, still fits the same size 18-24 months costume that he wore last year. He is on an appetite stimulant and iron supplements to try and get him motivated to eat and put some weight on the kid. The doctor continues to feel that J's small stature and failure to gain any weight whatsoever are cause for concern, and he is apparently completely unmoved by my "high cost of Halloween costumes" argument. Which is unfortunate, 'cause it's all I've got.
Meanwhile, young N who is about to be 5 months old weighs a whopping 14 lbs 9 oz. N wears a sleeper sized "Newborn 17-22 lbs". Which begs the question, what kind of scary growth hormone ingested newborn would that be? 'Cause ... Ow! Anyway, the doctor has no concerns about N and suggests we start him on cereal and establish a set bedtime with corresponding routine. He doesn't want us to have one child with eating problems and a second with sleep problems. Good point, actually. And it's just exactly the kind of thing that would happen to us. We will follow the directions provided.
Dear Student Advisor,
At the beginning of the term I broke my knee and required surgery. The resultant painkillers make me very groggy, and I have been unable to focus on my readings and have fallen behind in the course as a result. In addition, my birth mother has been diagnosed with inoperable metastatic pancreatic cancer and is receiving chemotherapy treatments. Further, in September we were compelled to put down our cherished pet of 17 years. We have a teething baby and a 3-year old with an eating disorder that has raised serious concerns. Finally earlier this week, our family fled from the property when a large fire broke out on our street, claiming the homes of several of our neighbours; they will require some neighbourhood support as they try to rebuild their lives, and we would like to support them in any way that we can.
In light of the foregoing recent raining down of hellfire and brimstone on all of our lives, would you perchance see fit to grant me a one week extension on my third assignment?
Regards,
Momma T
When does this year end, again? Seriously! 2008 is cordially invited to bite me.
(I am mostly being facetious here. And I recognize that 2008 has had its great moments too. Like the healthy birth of N, which was nothing short of a miracle. But it is a little ridiculous, no?)
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Ooooo-ooh, FIRE!
Edited to include a few more photos.
Note: The following photos (with the exception of the last one) were taken from various media sources in our area. We did not take these pictures ourselves. In the interests of protecting our privacy as best we can, we have not linked back to the media sources in question. We have made a note of who took the original photos. If you are one of the photographers and would like for us to take down a photo, please contact us to request the photo's removal.
**********
They say it started with an explosion.
Apparently, it was initially in a garage. A beautiful garage of a beautiful house. The new owners had just recently moved in. H and I love that house. We have walked past many times. When we saw the for sale sign over summer, we called right away. But it was already pending.
Investigations are ongoing. Arson is suspected.
The winds were gusting at great speeds overnight, and the fire spread rapidly to neighbouring properties. Including the home of one of my childhood friends.
Her car was out back, in the detached garage.
I awoke in the wee small hours of the morning to the sounds of sirens. And then more sirens. And then even more sirens. Initially disoriented, it took some time before I realized the emergency vehicles were right out front. But then I rushed to the window to see what might be happening on our street.
Orange smoke was billowing. Flames leaped into the sky, as the sparks flew. This looked bad. Really bad. And it looked close. Really close. The hydrant on our stretch of road was being used to combat the flames. I awoke H, who left to see just how close the fire was to our home.
When he returned, it was with bad news. Three houses were already engulfed. Several garages were aflame. H had watched as the flames leaped from the third house to the fourth, and then saw another garage catch fire. No one was working on garages. Saving houses was the only priority. Just as it should have been. The fire was close. Too close. And the winds were pushing it toward us.
As firefighters worked to contain the blaze, neighbours fought to keep the flames from claiming their own homes. Garden hoses were employed, and houses and garages were hosed down. Neighbours woke one another, and assistance was offered as needed. No one wished to lose so much.
The winds continued to gust. The fires continued to blaze. And as the sparks flew and the flames spread, we began to worry for our safety. The fire continued to move toward our house. It was moving rapidly.
Even though firefighters were at work trying to contain the blaze, we did not feel secure in our home. At 5:30, we decided to evacuate. I think that was the safest choice.
The fire was contained in our absence. Our house is unaffected. Several of the neighbouring houses, cars, and garages are lost. Others have suffered significant damage. But no lives were lost. No residents were injured. And any emergency worker injuries are classed as minor non-life-threatening injuries.
Yesterday was Canadian Thanksgiving, and I have a great deal to be thankful for.
Today, I am thankful that all lives were preserved. I am thankful that everyone got out in time. I am thankful for the emergency workers, for their skill and their quick response time, which prevented the blaze from spreading any further. I am thankful that we had a place to go when we needed to evacuate. I am thankful for my home, which is still standing strong. I am thankful that the beautiful house that we had liked so much was already pending when we called about it. I am thankful that my friend, whose home was lost to the blaze, has family who will help her. I am thankful for the outpouring of concern and caring by my wonderful family and friends, and for all of the phone calls and emails from people who wanted to know that our family was okay. And I am thankful that we have something worth protecting and preserving, and that we can recognize exactly what that something is.
It's a good day to be thankful for stuff.
Note: The following photos (with the exception of the last one) were taken from various media sources in our area. We did not take these pictures ourselves. In the interests of protecting our privacy as best we can, we have not linked back to the media sources in question. We have made a note of who took the original photos. If you are one of the photographers and would like for us to take down a photo, please contact us to request the photo's removal.
They say it started with an explosion.
Apparently, it was initially in a garage. A beautiful garage of a beautiful house. The new owners had just recently moved in. H and I love that house. We have walked past many times. When we saw the for sale sign over summer, we called right away. But it was already pending.
Investigations are ongoing. Arson is suspected.
The winds were gusting at great speeds overnight, and the fire spread rapidly to neighbouring properties. Including the home of one of my childhood friends.
Her car was out back, in the detached garage.
I awoke in the wee small hours of the morning to the sounds of sirens. And then more sirens. And then even more sirens. Initially disoriented, it took some time before I realized the emergency vehicles were right out front. But then I rushed to the window to see what might be happening on our street.
Orange smoke was billowing. Flames leaped into the sky, as the sparks flew. This looked bad. Really bad. And it looked close. Really close. The hydrant on our stretch of road was being used to combat the flames. I awoke H, who left to see just how close the fire was to our home.
When he returned, it was with bad news. Three houses were already engulfed. Several garages were aflame. H had watched as the flames leaped from the third house to the fourth, and then saw another garage catch fire. No one was working on garages. Saving houses was the only priority. Just as it should have been. The fire was close. Too close. And the winds were pushing it toward us.
As firefighters worked to contain the blaze, neighbours fought to keep the flames from claiming their own homes. Garden hoses were employed, and houses and garages were hosed down. Neighbours woke one another, and assistance was offered as needed. No one wished to lose so much.
The winds continued to gust. The fires continued to blaze. And as the sparks flew and the flames spread, we began to worry for our safety. The fire continued to move toward our house. It was moving rapidly.
Even though firefighters were at work trying to contain the blaze, we did not feel secure in our home. At 5:30, we decided to evacuate. I think that was the safest choice.
The fire was contained in our absence. Our house is unaffected. Several of the neighbouring houses, cars, and garages are lost. Others have suffered significant damage. But no lives were lost. No residents were injured. And any emergency worker injuries are classed as minor non-life-threatening injuries.
Yesterday was Canadian Thanksgiving, and I have a great deal to be thankful for.
Today, I am thankful that all lives were preserved. I am thankful that everyone got out in time. I am thankful for the emergency workers, for their skill and their quick response time, which prevented the blaze from spreading any further. I am thankful that we had a place to go when we needed to evacuate. I am thankful for my home, which is still standing strong. I am thankful that the beautiful house that we had liked so much was already pending when we called about it. I am thankful that my friend, whose home was lost to the blaze, has family who will help her. I am thankful for the outpouring of concern and caring by my wonderful family and friends, and for all of the phone calls and emails from people who wanted to know that our family was okay. And I am thankful that we have something worth protecting and preserving, and that we can recognize exactly what that something is.
It's a good day to be thankful for stuff.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Those magic moments
He screams. He cries. He wants to be held. Changed. Fed. Then, and only then, will He drift off into peaceful slumber. If He so chooses.
He appears in all respects to be a normal baby. But He has a special gift. A sixth sense, if you will. His instincts tell him when Mommy has opened Textbook. Such an indignity is this that it requires instant awakening, screaming, and demanding of the cuddles.
Yes, his nemesis is named Textbook, and the subservient Mommy shall not venture too near the heinous beast lest it eat her. Or something.
Thus, Mommy is not permitted to do her module 3 readings, and no further assignments shall be completed. He has so decreed it. He is unable to provide a note for school, as He can neither read nor write.
Suck it up, Mommy. Thou shalt not prevail.
**********
This kind of thing is a significant part of my life just now. But you know what makes it all worthwhile? It's those special heartfelt moments. Those wonderous and magical times. Like when you lie down, and the baby lies on top of you, tummy to tummy, and he looks down at you, gazing deep into your eyes, his little face full of love, and then he throws up right into your mouth.
That's the kind of precious memory that's all kinds of awesomeness. But you know what would be even better? That's right; no vomit!
He means business!
He appears in all respects to be a normal baby. But He has a special gift. A sixth sense, if you will. His instincts tell him when Mommy has opened Textbook. Such an indignity is this that it requires instant awakening, screaming, and demanding of the cuddles.
Yes, his nemesis is named Textbook, and the subservient Mommy shall not venture too near the heinous beast lest it eat her. Or something.
Thus, Mommy is not permitted to do her module 3 readings, and no further assignments shall be completed. He has so decreed it. He is unable to provide a note for school, as He can neither read nor write.
Suck it up, Mommy. Thou shalt not prevail.
This kind of thing is a significant part of my life just now. But you know what makes it all worthwhile? It's those special heartfelt moments. Those wonderous and magical times. Like when you lie down, and the baby lies on top of you, tummy to tummy, and he looks down at you, gazing deep into your eyes, his little face full of love, and then he throws up right into your mouth.
That's the kind of precious memory that's all kinds of awesomeness. But you know what would be even better? That's right; no vomit!
He means business!
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