Proof that urine is acidic

J is a poor eater. You may remember me discussing it at some length. He doesn't eat; therefore, he doesn't grow. He is now the smallest kid in his class. We've been working on it. Different strategies have been employed, doctors and nutritionists have been consulted, medications have been used. But J still just doesn't eat enough. It's a problem.

J is on an appetite stimulant. It seems to work marginally, but does not provide a great improvement. It also makes him tired. The doctor assures us that this is a good thing; kids experience most of their growth when they are asleep. And so, J needs a lot of sleep. He sleeps well at night, and also has an afternoon nap. Sometimes, it's easy to get J to nap. Other times, it's more difficult. Usually on the weekends, J would prefer not to nap at all. Various delay tactics will be employed as J works to stay awake in the afternoon. If he succeeds, he will be grumpy and act out as the day wears on; eventually, he will start getting in trouble and will have to go to bed early because he's too tired to carry on.

Today is just such a day.

J's usual delay tactics are just not especially noteworthy. Really, any kid trying to delay bedtime will employ most of the same tactics; his are no different. But today, one of his stalling techniques was somewhat unique. It must therefore be shared, and preserved, and probably brought up again in the future, possibly on his wedding day.

And so it goes.

After being tucked in, J climbed out of bed and started going through his stuffed animal toybox, eventually finding an animal that makes noise. He then played with the noisy animal for a bit, ran around his room, and kicked his wall several times. Eventually, he grew bored and started knocking on his bedroom door and shouting (his ever-so-subtle signal that "IT'S TIME TO GET UUUUU-UUP"). I went up, and told him that it was still nap time. J insisted that he needed to get up to give Daddy a kiss. I called H up so that J could kiss him (much to the chagrin of J who wanted to go downstairs to kiss Daddy). J then said that he needed to pee. So I took him to the bathroom, and then tucked him back in. He then insisted that he was thirsty and needed a drink of water.

Now here's where it got interesting.

J: I need a drink of water because my throat hurts. My throat is soooo sore, because I needed to pee soooo badly. So that's why I need a drink of water.

I couldn't really relate. Must be a guy thing?

Will the circle be unbroken? Um ... NO!

Today, H picked up J from preschool. Inexplicably, J burst into song. "Santa Claus is Coming to Town". (Yes, in April.) This drew attention from one of J's teachers, who laughed and then relayed a little story from today's "circle time".

In "circle time", the class takes part in various activities. Show and tell ... music ... yoga ... Spanish class ... stories ... the list goes on and on. It's a very active preschool. Today in circle, the kids were playing a game called "Who stole the cookies". The idea is to rhythmically say: "Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar? [Name of child] stole the cookies from the cookie jar". And there are a few more silly little lines, with fun and innocent rhyming responses from the child in question, and then you keep going down the line of children until you've done all of the names. It's very cute.

All good, right? Except J doesn't like being falsely accused. So ...

Class: Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar? J stole the cookies from the cookie jar.

J: (sporting his best "mad-face") I DID NOT!!!

Teacher: It's just a game, J. We go down the line. So next, we're going to say that B stole the cookies from the cookie jar.

J: Well, then maybe he did it. But I didn't! **

J quite enjoys circle time. Only problem: he and his best little preschool friend A aren't allowed to sit together any longer. They chat and play during the planned activities, and I've been told that they get quite disruptive. I also note in recent days that they are also no longer allowed to eat lunch together. But they still get lots of good play time in, so I think they're pretty happy all told.

**********
** Note: The following is how "Who stole the cookies" should actually play out:

Class: Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar? [Child] stole the cookies from the cookie jar.

Child: Who, me?
Class: Yes, you.
Child: Couldn't be.
Class: Then who?

The Tail of Sleeping Beauty (and that is not a typo)

J loves the story of "Sleeping Beauty". He will often act out parts. Now, I don't remember the story this way, but here was tonight's rendition:

J: (calling from upstairs) Mommy. Be Sleeping Beauty.
T: Okay. (pretends to sleep) I am Sleeping Beauty.
J: (coming down the stairs) I'm a shark!
T: (completely loses it, then pretends to sleep again)
J: (leans over T) RRRRROOOOOAAAAARRR!
(pause)
J: (climbs up and touches T's face) WAKE UP!
T: I can only be woken up by my true love's kiss.
J: But I can't kiss you. Because I'm a shark.
T: I can only be woken up by my true love's kiss.
J: But I have sharp teeth!
T: I can only be woken up by my true love's kiss.
J: But ... but ... DADDY!!!

H arrives, to find T pretending to sleep on the couch and a frustrated J dressed in a hooded towel that strongly resembles a shark.

J: You're Sleeping Beauty's true love! Kiss her!

H complies, and T awakes. Moments later:

H: J! Don't wrap your tail around that bag!
J: But I can't hold it with my fins.
T: (completely loses it and almost chokes on her gum)

Mr. Shark then works to postpone bedtime. He gives Sleeping Beauty presents for her birthday (which is not for several months, in case anyone was wondering). She receives a bag full of stuffed animals actually belonging to baby N, a Merlin magnifying glass (which J tells me is "so you can see any wet spots"), and a dump truck. Score!

And then, when he realizes it is not actually Sleeping Beauty's birthday, Mr. Shark swims away with all the presents tied to his tail. He informs Sleeping Beauty that she does not get any presents; she has to wait for her birthday.

Of course, it all ends very badly. A tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. There is a horrible bedtime brawl. A cat's tail is pulled. Screaming ensues. There are tears and headaches. And someone has to go to bed without a story. And The Tail of Sleeping Beauty is nearly ruined.

Nearly. But not quite. For H and I will always remember the sight of J, swimming away with several bags of toys tied around his hooded towel tail. And that's worth a lot.

In which I declare war. A kind of sad and pathetic war, but war nonetheless

It's April. It is what it is.

Ordinarily, April is tax season. It's crazy busy. There's no time for anything but taxes. Just get them done, get them filed, get them paid. It's April. That's it.

In April, things get chaotic. It's tense. Balance is difficult. Work takes a higher priority, and personal life takes a step back. But it's just April. Not a big deal. The chaos is contained, so I can handle it. Actually, I usually quite enjoy April.

This year, April is my last month of maternity leave. I'm missing tax season. But I haven't escaped the chaos and tension. It's just manifested itself in different ways. Ways that I do not enjoy at all. Ways that make me really miss tax season.

This year, I hate April. Hate it more than I had imagined possible. Hate it with a hatred that exceeds even my hatred of 2008. And we all know how much I hated that year, don't we?

This year, April has been hard on a lot of people, for a lot of reasons. And I haven't felt like posting much during the whole thing, so I haven't.

This year, I grit my teeth, and I wade through April in anger and frustration. But as I have no one with whom I can genuinely be angry or frustrated, I have no outlet.

And so, I have decided to be angry with April. (Yes, the month.) Accordingly, I hereby declare war on April. (Yes, I realize that I sound like a lunatic.) And I assert that April shall bear the brunt of my wrath. Of course, April being a month of the year rather than a tangible object makes it rather difficult for me to wreak the havoc on it that it so richly deserves. But were there a way, I guarantee that I would find it and it would pay dearly for what it has done.

(Stupid month and its stupid intangible properties ... mutter, mutter ...)

It's April. It is what it is.

Note: I'll be back to regular posting as soon as I find my bliss. I know I left it here somewhere ...

And then, the elephant boy was eaten by a dragon, and peace reigned throughout the land. At least, until the crows came ...

Puff the magic dragon
Lived by the sea
And caught up on the other one
In the lands of Connor Lee.
Now. Have a 4-year old sing that 428,686,297,886 times in a row at top volume while a baby shrieks inconsollably and you and your spouse try to have a serious discussion about the meaning of life, and you'll be roughly where I am now.

Also: You should totally take the 4-year old with you to the vet's office to buy cat food. It's fun. Trust me. It goes something like this:

J: I want this octopus! This big blue octopus! The octopus! I want the octopus!! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT ... !!!!
Eventually, our kind receptionist-type friend gave J a shrimp-shaped cat toy as a compromise, just to make him stop flipping out. A very pissed-off looking J left the vet's office, shrimp in hand. Other people commented that he was very cute. H offered to sell him, but there were no takers. I can't imagine why.

**********
As an aside, in J's bedtime story this evening, a large, long-legged white bird delivered a baby elephant to Mrs. Jumbo. Now, what do we call that large, long-legged white bird again? Well, according to J, that bird is called a crow. And honestly, hearing that the baby elephant was delivered by a mutant albino crow really changes the feel of "Dumbo" for some reason. But I don't know why.

**********
And on that note, when H and I were teasing J this evening and telling him that he was actually an elephant, he argued with tremendous force and perfect tone.

J: I am not an animal! I am ... a person!!
Oooh; he almost had it.

Seriously Random

Time for Random Tuesday Thoughts, sponsored by Keely over at The Un Mom. So here goes. Try to keep up.



One of my friends passed away last week, and I've been working on a post in memory. Should be up soon, if I can ever finish it. Looking for the humour in the situation, so it has to be just right; Joe was a born comic, and the sombre wouldn't suit him at all. Ever the comedian, he checked out on April 1st. Which was actually hilarious in its own way, since most people thought it was an April Fool's Day prank. Even at the memorial service, I think some of us expected him to leap out, laughing like a maniac, and say he was just fine. But no. And while you may think it terrible of me to refer to death as "hilarious", Joe would have really liked it. If you knew him, you'd understand. If not, that's a shame. Joe was one of the good ones, and I bet heaven is an even happier place now that he's in it. Remember the good times.

Today, I am the mother of a 4-year old. J's party with his school friends is today, at school. His party with all our friends was Sunday, just before the memorial service. J was very excited, because he'd talked me into making him a cake shaped like a tank. It turned out well; pictures will come. J was walking around for 2 weeks before his party telling everyone. "Mommy's going to bake me a cake! It's an army machine! And it has a BIG GUN!!" J is obsessed with guns. It's a very strange obsession, since we don't allow guns as toys, and neither does school, and neither do his grandparents, and ... honestly, we have no idea why he's so gun-crazy. It's a bit disconcerting. A birthday post should also be forthcoming. Can't believe he's four already; where does the time go?

On the subject of "where does the time go", I go back to work in four more weeks. Since I spent much of my maternity leave recovering from a knee break, it just doesn't feel right to go back yet. Leave feels incomplete somehow. In some ways, it will be nice to be back among adults some of the time. In other ways ... well, change is always alarming. I'll miss my baby, and my routine will be all messed up for awhile. I'll do it because I have to; it's the only way our family can make ends meet. And I really do like my job and my employer a lot. But it's still hard to leave the baby. And while a part of me wants to go back to work, there's also a pretty big part of me that just doesn't want to be away from the kids at all. I mean, ever. They should just stay little forever, I think.

Knee's flaring up again. I guess it's affected by changes in the weather. I'd love for it to quit hurting, but every so often, I develop a pronounced limp. While I really do miss the cat, I can't help but think that it's kind of all her fault I'm in this condition. At least I'll always remember her, right? I think I'll name my knee hardware "Damn Cat", in her honour.

School's going okay, I suppose. I got de-railed again last week, when Joe passed. So now, I'm playing catch up again. Lots of fun. Still no word back on my first assignment, though some other students have theirs back already. And on the subject of "some other students", I'm feeling generally frustrated with my class in general. I just wish people would read the materials before asking questions. (Honestly, people; I'm happy to brainstorm, but I can't read the textbook for you!) Anyway, hopefully I did okay on the first assignment. I'm working on the second now. And I'm still waiting for the results from my last class and the results of my university application. These things all take time, and patience is not my strong suit.

Happy Tuesday, everyone. Now, go visit Keely, and do your own Random Tuesday Thoughts.

We're in a recession, but the tire business is booming. Apparently.

I'm convinced that the Harper government is randomly puncturing the sidewalls of our tires as part of their economic recovery plan.

It's kind of like the home renovation tax credit they recently implemented. If you're fortunate enough to already own a home and you have a spare $10,000 kicking around, you can get a tax break this year for doing upgrades to your home that probably weren't needed in the first place. The general idea is to get people spending money hiring licensed tradespeople, which pumps cash back into the economy and keeps those tradespeople working, reducing EI payments and such. It's a well-intentioned idea that kind of misses the mark a bit, since the only people who really stand to benefit from the tax break are the ones who don't actually need a tax break in the first place. And in that sense, it's kind of like the Universal Child Care Benefit, which redirected money that had been earmarked for the creation of subsidized childcare spots for low income earners. Instead of providing those spots, the UCCB provides a monthly taxable sum of $100 per child per month to the lower income partner in every household with young children, regardless of income threshold. So now, a single parent working a minimum wage job and the stay-at-home spouse of a millionaire are treated equally and given the exact same amount of assistance per head, and everything is "fair". You know; kind of like Communism.

This is what comes of having a government that caters to the wealthy. It's like living in a country run by Robin Hood. Only in reverse. And without archery or fancy outfits. Try Conservative - The Un-Robin Hood!

Awesome.

Not that there's anything wrong with being wealthy. I myself aspire to it someday. And I am certainly a fan of plans that focus on encouraging selective spending to aid economic recovery, if the plans are implemented correctly. I am also a fan of all things pretty and clean, as well as of efficiency in general. But I think there are limits as to how far one should go. Not so for the Honourable (and I use that word loosely) Nancy Ruth, an Ontario Conservative whose "kill two birds with one stone" philosophy extends to cover off the death of any two inferior beings. One bird and one poor person, for example.

The following editorial is taken from page A14 of the March 29, 2009 Edmonton Journal. Enjoy.

"Another blow to the poor, beleaguered Canadian Senate was struck last week by the Honourable Nancy Ruth, an Ontario Conservative appointed by the Martin Liberals. Ruth was holding forth on her important priorities at the Senate finance committee on Tuesday, as the body deliberated the budget for Canada's Food Inspection Agency, which hasn't had great outings of late.

Ruth's laser-like gaze fixed on the vexing national problem of dirty Canada geese. They are a "health hazard," she said, since they foul the waters around her summer cottage. That produces the malady known as swimmer's itch, and Ruth was itching for a war against our iconic fowl. They're also soiling her home in downtown Toronto, she continued.

When enlightened by colleagues that waterfowl hunting rules are a provincial matter and only aboriginals are allowed to shoot Canada geese, Ruth pronounced that as "excellent. Why don't we kill them and feed them to the poor in Toronto?"

While we're at it, senator, why waste all that summer roadkill when food banks are looking for supplies? Surely, the hands-down winner of the 2009 Marie Antoinette on the Rideau Award is Senator Nancy Ruth, doing the people's work, one (dead) honker at a time."

They're dirty. A health hazard. They cause swimmer's itch. They foul up our waters and soil our homes. So let's kill them. And feed them to the poor. Who presumably will voluntarily ingest dirty, diseased waterfowl? Excellent!

As ridiculous as that is, it is clear that the Conservative government is looking for solutions to the crises in our nation. And we know that one such solution is to encourage spending to aid economic recovery. And for that, I applaud them. But random acts of vandalism? Seriously?

The thing is that so far this year, we have experienced six (yes, six) irreparably flat tires. Each time, the puncture has occurred in the sidewall, where it cannot be patched. Some of these tires were new. Only one was under warranty at the time. And so, we have had to pay for five new tires so far this year. Sidewall punctures are relatively rare, so it's a bit odd to see six of them in the space of three months. And this leads me to conclude that the Harper government, wanting to encourage spending in the tire and rubber market, is puncturing our sidewalls in order to force us to buy new tires. Really, it's the only logical explanation.

Dear Harper government: You've gotten us six times. Please move on to someone else's vehicles now. We should not single-handedly be responsible for the revitalization of the entire rubber industry. Our contribution has been made.

To everyone else: Protect your sidewalls. For Big Brother is here, and he wants your tires. There is no telling where he may strike next. Be warned.

It is inappropriate to have a "favourite large yucky bug"

Today, I had to phone H at work and have him come home. I've had a severe headache since Saturday morning. My positive thinking and careful Tylenol dosing have not helped it to pass. I couldn't cope with the pain today, so I couldn't take care of the kids properly. I also couldn't drive myself to the doctor because I could barely see. H loaded the kids into the van and drove me to the doctor, then returned home to wait for me to call for a ride home. And I waited at the doctor's office for over two hours before I was seen.

It's a severe sinus infection. Hurts like hell. Imagine someone attacking your eye socket with a crochet hook. Yeah. It's kind of like that. But now, I have drugs. The doctor says I should be feeling better by the weekend.

As painful as this is, though, I think it may actually be preferrable to the torture H had to endure at the hands of our children while I was away.

*********
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: (singing) Rock-a-bye baby ...
J: Daddy!
H: ... in the treetop ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
J: Daddy!!
H: ... the cradle will ...
J: DADDY!!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: WHAT, J?!?!
J: I want you to pretend to be the big giant cockroach from "Men in Black".
H: ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: Rock-a-bye ...
J: DADDY!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: FINE! (In a really low voice) I am the big giant cockroach from "Men in Black".
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
J: Big giant cockroach?
H: *sigh* Rock-a-bye baby ...
J: BIG GIANT COCKROACH FROM "MEN IN BLACK"?!
H: Yes, J!!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
J: Cockroaches are my favourite kind of large yucky bug, because they have big sharp teeth coming out of their cheeks.
H: Good. Is that all?
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: ... when the wind blows ...
J: COCKROACH!!!

**********
That? Or the sinus infection? I think it's a toss-up. But what would you prefer?

Irritation and Injuries

Yesterday, I turned my back for a moment to put in a video for J to watch. J took that opportunity to swan dive off the couch, landing directly on his face on the hardwood. Good times.

I worked to stop the blood that was pouring from J's nose and mouth, trying to console my little boy, while also admonishing him that "This is why Mommy and Daddy tell you not to jump off the furniture like that". I realized that he'd banged his mouth and nose but good, and he'd also smacked his chin and forehead. He had tooth punctures in both his upper and lower lips. I was worried about his mouth. His teeth. His nose. His head. Oh dear ... I hope his teeth are okay; his nose not broken; he has no concussion.

And J screamed and cried. And I applied pressure to his nose and mouth. And I phoned H. And I carried the crying J up the stairs, while he shrieked, waking N from his nap with screams of "I WANT MY N!!!" (It's sweet that he's so attached to his little brother.)

J went to emergency. He is okay. No breaks; no stitches. Popsicles to reduce the swelling in his mouth. And he feels better today. Sadly, he continues to leap off the furniture like a little maniac. But hopefully, he has learned to land on his feet and yesterday's faceplant will not be repeated.

**********
Today, I feel agitated. It's a general unhappy rage. I'm not 100% certain of what has caused it, but it is there nonetheless. I don't like it. I wish it would go away. But these moods take time to pass. And so, I wait. And as I wait, I brood. And question everything and everyone around me. And wish for a happy headspace, which will only come when it is good and ready.

Mood swings are a part of me, and you'd think I'd be used to them by now. But apparently, I am not. So for now, I grit my teeth and wait for the tides to turn. I hope happy, fun posts will soon appear. They'll come; they always do. Just takes time.

Getting in touch with my inner 6-year old

Youtube thought I would like to see this tonight.



Youtube was correct.