Okay, so you know what's been bugging me lately? The volume. It's unbearable! I have to tell the little guy at least a hundred or more times a day to keep his voice down. Jeez, he reminds me of my Uncle Harry!
And he can't stand it when I try to talk to other people. The second I start a conversation he talks over my voice and tries to get my attention.
Does anyone have any suggestions for dealing with this?
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Kindergarten Prep
We have been doing our very best to prepare the little guy for JK. His official start date is September 11 (although we do a visit with his teacher this coming Friday). I'm not sure who is more nervous - the little guy or me. Probably me.
I keep reading and rereading the package of information that the school gave me back in the Spring. Things like, "your child should be able to put on their own shoes" keep jumping out at me. Sure, he's a pro at putting on crocs and rubber boots, but he sometimes need some help with his runners. After all, he's still only 3 years old. Being a late November baby he's going to be almost a year younger than some of the kids in his class. I really hope that they'll take pity on him when it comes to doing up shoes and things like that.
He's going to have to take the bus to school -- all by himself! At the suggestion of his elementary school we went to a school bus orientation session last weekend. I'm really glad we did because it provided the little guy with a "dry run" of what it would be like. We actually rode the bus and went through all of the safety rules. He's pretty nervous about getting on the bus without mommy and daddy but we've been working really hard to calm his nerves. On day 1 we are planning to follow the bus to school, so that we make sure he gets settled into his classroom. Hubby is going to take the day off so that he can also follow his bus to nursery school too, again, to help him with the transition.
The countdown begins!
I keep reading and rereading the package of information that the school gave me back in the Spring. Things like, "your child should be able to put on their own shoes" keep jumping out at me. Sure, he's a pro at putting on crocs and rubber boots, but he sometimes need some help with his runners. After all, he's still only 3 years old. Being a late November baby he's going to be almost a year younger than some of the kids in his class. I really hope that they'll take pity on him when it comes to doing up shoes and things like that.
He's going to have to take the bus to school -- all by himself! At the suggestion of his elementary school we went to a school bus orientation session last weekend. I'm really glad we did because it provided the little guy with a "dry run" of what it would be like. We actually rode the bus and went through all of the safety rules. He's pretty nervous about getting on the bus without mommy and daddy but we've been working really hard to calm his nerves. On day 1 we are planning to follow the bus to school, so that we make sure he gets settled into his classroom. Hubby is going to take the day off so that he can also follow his bus to nursery school too, again, to help him with the transition.
The countdown begins!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Muffin tops are in
Which is good news for me I guess as I struggle to lose a few pounds. I've been working out several times a week and I've cut down my calories but my damn stomach still looks fat.
People always tell me how tiny I am (well, maybe not as much lately). But the definition of "tiny" seems to have changed a lot since I was in high school. I remember there were only a handful of overweight students in my school. Now overweight seems to be the new norm. And obese seems to be fairly normal too. If you ask me, it's an epidemic that we're all going to pay for in the not so distant future. More hypertension leading to more diabetes, heart disease and who knows what else. Our healthcare system is going to pay the price.
You know what has also changed since I was in high school? Clothing sizes. Stores like to lead consumers to believe that they are skinnier than they really are. This is wrong in so many ways. I often fit into a size 2 at The Gap. How exactly is that possible? There is no way in hell I am a size 2. What does that tell the kid who fits into a size 8 who actually has a weight problem?
Before baby boy was in the picture I decided to stop eating processed food. In a couple of months I dropped 10 pounds. Tells you something, doesn't it? Processed food is just plain evil. And it's everywhere. I'm always amazed at the crap people have in their grocery carts. It all comes out of a box or a can. It's full of sodium and sugar. The "lunchable," devoid of any nutritional value, has replaced the apple and carrot sticks that kids bring for lunch. Match those with a granola bar (they aren't healthy people!) and a juice box (packed full of sugar) and suddenly it makes sense why teenagers are now sporting those trendy muffin tops. Not to mention that many of them don't get enough exercise....
So why am I telling you all this? Because tonight I saw hundreds of overweight teens shoveling crap into their mouths at "The Ex". It kind of freaked me out and made me think about my own eating habits. I'm just as guilty of eating processed food as anyone else. I think my weight issues have a lot to do with my food choices which are not always the best.
I think I'm going to cut processed foods out of my diet again (except occasionally on weekends) and see what happens. Wish me luck!
People always tell me how tiny I am (well, maybe not as much lately). But the definition of "tiny" seems to have changed a lot since I was in high school. I remember there were only a handful of overweight students in my school. Now overweight seems to be the new norm. And obese seems to be fairly normal too. If you ask me, it's an epidemic that we're all going to pay for in the not so distant future. More hypertension leading to more diabetes, heart disease and who knows what else. Our healthcare system is going to pay the price.
You know what has also changed since I was in high school? Clothing sizes. Stores like to lead consumers to believe that they are skinnier than they really are. This is wrong in so many ways. I often fit into a size 2 at The Gap. How exactly is that possible? There is no way in hell I am a size 2. What does that tell the kid who fits into a size 8 who actually has a weight problem?
Before baby boy was in the picture I decided to stop eating processed food. In a couple of months I dropped 10 pounds. Tells you something, doesn't it? Processed food is just plain evil. And it's everywhere. I'm always amazed at the crap people have in their grocery carts. It all comes out of a box or a can. It's full of sodium and sugar. The "lunchable," devoid of any nutritional value, has replaced the apple and carrot sticks that kids bring for lunch. Match those with a granola bar (they aren't healthy people!) and a juice box (packed full of sugar) and suddenly it makes sense why teenagers are now sporting those trendy muffin tops. Not to mention that many of them don't get enough exercise....
So why am I telling you all this? Because tonight I saw hundreds of overweight teens shoveling crap into their mouths at "The Ex". It kind of freaked me out and made me think about my own eating habits. I'm just as guilty of eating processed food as anyone else. I think my weight issues have a lot to do with my food choices which are not always the best.
I think I'm going to cut processed foods out of my diet again (except occasionally on weekends) and see what happens. Wish me luck!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Quote of the week and other fun stuff
The little guy continues to think spitting is funny. When I got a little stern with him about it this weekend he said,
"It's against the rules for adults to be mad at children."
I reminded him that it was also against the rules for children to spit.
****************************
Things the little guy is into these days:
- Spiderman (even though he's never even seen a Spiderman cartoon)
-Talking really really loudly, like he thinks I'm deaf or something
- Eating "corn on the bob"
- Reading children's encyclopedias. He wants to know everything there is to know about everything (especially about the ocean and outer space)
- Saying, "Yuck I don't like that." Doesn't he know we are a family of foodies?
- Couch wrecking (note to Hubby: I am no longer the only couch wrecker in the house)
- Wrapping up toys and giving them to us as presents. Gee honey, I loved the really realistic rubber snake you gave me this morning :-) Heaven knows how much I love snakes.
- Playing Farmville and Happy Farm on Facebook (he gets to pick the seeds we grow)
- Hiking and biking (he'll hike up to 5 km!)
- Frog and fish catching (we bought him a pond pail and net)
- Helping himself to stuff out of the fridge
- Putting on his clothes by himself (mostly backwards)
- Bragging about what a pro he is at using the toilet
- Telling jokes. The other day I asked him where my purse was and he told me that he ate it.
- Photocopying pictures, colouring them, cutting them out and laminating them with tape (he could do this all day long!)
- Making "lunches" for himself and packing up his backpack
- Going out for real lunches (his lunch of choice: burgers and fries, avocado rolls and edamame, or pho)
- Constantly trying to sucker hubby and I into buying him toys or treats
- Bird watching (every day his caregiver takes him to the "duck park" and we get a full report about all of the birds he saw. More often than not his bird tales end with the line, "but I didn't see the Blue Heron today."
- Playing games on daddy's iPhone (great for long, boring car rides)
- Motorcycle helmets and goggles (when we go out he sometimes insists on wearing his skating helmet and ski goggles. A nice look for summer).
-Emergency vehicles (those never get old, do they?)
- Carrying stolen change in his pockets. (Our poor washer and dryer)
- And, of course, farting on me and then running away laughing (He gets that from my side of the family. His uncles are very proud!)
"It's against the rules for adults to be mad at children."
I reminded him that it was also against the rules for children to spit.
****************************
Things the little guy is into these days:
- Spiderman (even though he's never even seen a Spiderman cartoon)
-Talking really really loudly, like he thinks I'm deaf or something
- Eating "corn on the bob"
- Reading children's encyclopedias. He wants to know everything there is to know about everything (especially about the ocean and outer space)
- Saying, "Yuck I don't like that." Doesn't he know we are a family of foodies?
- Couch wrecking (note to Hubby: I am no longer the only couch wrecker in the house)
- Wrapping up toys and giving them to us as presents. Gee honey, I loved the really realistic rubber snake you gave me this morning :-) Heaven knows how much I love snakes.
- Playing Farmville and Happy Farm on Facebook (he gets to pick the seeds we grow)
- Hiking and biking (he'll hike up to 5 km!)
- Frog and fish catching (we bought him a pond pail and net)
- Helping himself to stuff out of the fridge
- Putting on his clothes by himself (mostly backwards)
- Bragging about what a pro he is at using the toilet
- Telling jokes. The other day I asked him where my purse was and he told me that he ate it.
- Photocopying pictures, colouring them, cutting them out and laminating them with tape (he could do this all day long!)
- Making "lunches" for himself and packing up his backpack
- Going out for real lunches (his lunch of choice: burgers and fries, avocado rolls and edamame, or pho)
- Constantly trying to sucker hubby and I into buying him toys or treats
- Bird watching (every day his caregiver takes him to the "duck park" and we get a full report about all of the birds he saw. More often than not his bird tales end with the line, "but I didn't see the Blue Heron today."
- Playing games on daddy's iPhone (great for long, boring car rides)
- Motorcycle helmets and goggles (when we go out he sometimes insists on wearing his skating helmet and ski goggles. A nice look for summer).
-Emergency vehicles (those never get old, do they?)
- Carrying stolen change in his pockets. (Our poor washer and dryer)
- And, of course, farting on me and then running away laughing (He gets that from my side of the family. His uncles are very proud!)
Sunday, August 16, 2009
News flash!
I promise this will be one of my last posts about toilet training. I'm just so amazed at how fast things have been moving these last few weeks that I just had to share the good news. Here are the latest milestones:
- No more potty. He's moved completely to the big toilet. (Although you can't see it, I'm doing a happy dance right now!)
- He's eager to learn how the toilet paper works so we've started "Wiping 101."
- The toilet seat attachment will soon be going the way of the potty. He's figured out that balancing on the seat isn't as difficult as he thought.
-The diaper bag is gone. It has been replaced with a big boy backpack that he has to carry himself.
With the money we're sure to save on diapers we bought a new mattress. Our old one was about 12 years old and well past it's prime. With hubby's bad back, we decided that we couldn't put off this purchase any longer. Instead of buying a widely available toxic, formaldehyde-filled mattress we decided to get an organic mattress. The one we selected is made out of cotton and latex and has a 25 year warrantee. At 40% off, it was a screaming deal! It arrives early this week.
In other news.....Amma (hubby's mother) flew back home after a week long visit. The two of them were very busy while hubby and I were at work last week. One day we came home to a house decorated with balloons and streamers, and the smell of freshly baked carrot cake. They decided to throw us an early birthday party (hubby and I are both September babies). What a nice surprise!
Another night Amma kicked hubby and I out the door for a date night. We went to this amazing restaurant that we've been dying to try for months. The restaurant served mostly local, raised/grown in Canada dishes that were prepared in the most unconventional way imaginable i.e. creme fraiche frozen in liquid nitrogen (the dry ice gently gliding across the table really made for an interesting ambiance). I believe the term to use is "molecular cooking." It's hard to explain. You really have to go there and experience it. The kitchen, which we got to tour after our 12 course meal, looked more like a science lab than a kitchen. There was no menu. You just sit down and they start bringing you food. Each dish was in itself a piece of artwork. Just check out the gallery on their website.
Fun times!
- No more potty. He's moved completely to the big toilet. (Although you can't see it, I'm doing a happy dance right now!)
- He's eager to learn how the toilet paper works so we've started "Wiping 101."
- The toilet seat attachment will soon be going the way of the potty. He's figured out that balancing on the seat isn't as difficult as he thought.
-The diaper bag is gone. It has been replaced with a big boy backpack that he has to carry himself.
With the money we're sure to save on diapers we bought a new mattress. Our old one was about 12 years old and well past it's prime. With hubby's bad back, we decided that we couldn't put off this purchase any longer. Instead of buying a widely available toxic, formaldehyde-filled mattress we decided to get an organic mattress. The one we selected is made out of cotton and latex and has a 25 year warrantee. At 40% off, it was a screaming deal! It arrives early this week.
In other news.....Amma (hubby's mother) flew back home after a week long visit. The two of them were very busy while hubby and I were at work last week. One day we came home to a house decorated with balloons and streamers, and the smell of freshly baked carrot cake. They decided to throw us an early birthday party (hubby and I are both September babies). What a nice surprise!
Another night Amma kicked hubby and I out the door for a date night. We went to this amazing restaurant that we've been dying to try for months. The restaurant served mostly local, raised/grown in Canada dishes that were prepared in the most unconventional way imaginable i.e. creme fraiche frozen in liquid nitrogen (the dry ice gently gliding across the table really made for an interesting ambiance). I believe the term to use is "molecular cooking." It's hard to explain. You really have to go there and experience it. The kitchen, which we got to tour after our 12 course meal, looked more like a science lab than a kitchen. There was no menu. You just sit down and they start bringing you food. Each dish was in itself a piece of artwork. Just check out the gallery on their website.
Fun times!
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Today was my "lucky" day
I have to carry around a Blackberry during the week. Occasionally (once a month) one of my clients will call me on it if they have something urgent to talk about. So you can imagine my surprise when my Blackberry was ringing off the hook this morning.
The first call was really strange. When I answered the man on the other end of the line (who sounded old and perhaps a little intoxicated) told me his name was Joe. I asked him why he was calling. He said, "My friend gave me your number." I knew then and there that he had the wrong number. I asked, "are you calling for communications advice?" He hung up on me.
Not five minutes later the phone rang again. A different number. When I answered using my name, the male who was calling said, "Oh sorry, I must have the wrong number."
When 10 minutes later I got yet another phone call from another strange number, I realized something weird was going on. The man I spoke to this time said, "Is Lucky there?" Hmmmmm.....how many people do you know named Lucky? And how many people do you know named lucky who work for the government? Definitely the wrong number. I asked him how he got my number and he was reluctant to answer. After fumbling for a second he said my number was left on his answering machine. I told him that I was wondering who had left the number on his machine because I had already had a few other wrong numbers this morning. He repeated the line about the answering machine and quickly hung up.
I checked my phone log. It turns out that I had also received calls at 2:00 am, 3:00 am and 4:00 am -- all from different numbers. Let me guess that they were all calls from lonely men?
Half an hour later, caller #2 rang me a second time. When he realized that I wasn't "Lucky" he hung up. I did a search on Canada411 and discovered he was calling from a Zeller's store. A boring day at the office, maybe?
Whoever Lucky is, she sure missed a lot of calls today. 10 or 12 at least.
I'm pretty sure that someone accidentally printed my phone number in a personal ad. I wasn't sure what to do. Should I answer the phone in a sexy voice? Pretend that Lucky wasn't here right now and take a message? Pretty tempting but frankly I wasn't getting any work done with all of the phone interruptions. So I called the Help Desk and asked them to change my Blackberry number. They were very understanding about the situation.
So tomorrow I get a new number. Guess those guys didn't get "Lucky" today :-)
The first call was really strange. When I answered the man on the other end of the line (who sounded old and perhaps a little intoxicated) told me his name was Joe. I asked him why he was calling. He said, "My friend gave me your number." I knew then and there that he had the wrong number. I asked, "are you calling for communications advice?" He hung up on me.
Not five minutes later the phone rang again. A different number. When I answered using my name, the male who was calling said, "Oh sorry, I must have the wrong number."
When 10 minutes later I got yet another phone call from another strange number, I realized something weird was going on. The man I spoke to this time said, "Is Lucky there?" Hmmmmm.....how many people do you know named Lucky? And how many people do you know named lucky who work for the government? Definitely the wrong number. I asked him how he got my number and he was reluctant to answer. After fumbling for a second he said my number was left on his answering machine. I told him that I was wondering who had left the number on his machine because I had already had a few other wrong numbers this morning. He repeated the line about the answering machine and quickly hung up.
I checked my phone log. It turns out that I had also received calls at 2:00 am, 3:00 am and 4:00 am -- all from different numbers. Let me guess that they were all calls from lonely men?
Half an hour later, caller #2 rang me a second time. When he realized that I wasn't "Lucky" he hung up. I did a search on Canada411 and discovered he was calling from a Zeller's store. A boring day at the office, maybe?
Whoever Lucky is, she sure missed a lot of calls today. 10 or 12 at least.
I'm pretty sure that someone accidentally printed my phone number in a personal ad. I wasn't sure what to do. Should I answer the phone in a sexy voice? Pretend that Lucky wasn't here right now and take a message? Pretty tempting but frankly I wasn't getting any work done with all of the phone interruptions. So I called the Help Desk and asked them to change my Blackberry number. They were very understanding about the situation.
So tomorrow I get a new number. Guess those guys didn't get "Lucky" today :-)
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Oh happy day!
It's always nice when a happy day follows a sad one. Why am I so happy? The little guy has adopted the diaper free lifestyle at daycare as well as at home. I was so worried that he might revert back to his old ways. Guess I worried for nothing.
Over snack he asked his buddy SM, "Do you know how to use the toilet?" knowing full well that the answer was "No." What a little show-off! It's only been a little over two weeks now and already he's acting like an expert.
*************************
So we're back to work this week after a glorious 2-week vacation. Photos to follow shortly! We especially enjoyed our trip to the cottage, despite having a few rather wet and rainy days.
Once the photos are uploaded I'll tell you more. In the meantime here is a funny story.
Hubby's fishing rod snapped after an unfortunate tangle in the weeds. It was, however, fixable (or at least temporarily). The little guy watched the whole repair job with great interest. A couple of times he also made himself useful by climbing up to the cottage to fetch supplies.
On his first supply run he said, "Mom, I need Daddy's little knife" (swiss army knife).
"Where did daddy say he left it," I asked. "On the kitchen counter," he replied.
I fetched it and off he went to find hubby. Not two minutes later he was back again. This time he said, "Mommy, I need the sculptate."
"The what?" I asked.
"The sculptate," he repeated.
"I don't know what you are talking about. Can you say it again?"
At this point he became very frustrated with me. "Sculptate!" he yelled over and over.
As I tried to figure out what he was looking for hubby yelled up the hill to us, "Did you find the scotch tape?"
:-)
***********************************
He's suddenly become Mr. Independent -- helping himself to snacks, brushing his own teeth, using the toilet and getting dressed all by himself.
The getting dressed part is quite humourous. Most days he puts his shirt on backwards and/or inside out. Often he underwear is on the wrong way too. When I point this out to him he says, "That's the way I like to wear them, Mom." Hey, who am I to judge?
He is, of course, just as skilled at taking his clothes off as he is at putting them on. If he had his choice he'd be naked all the time. Luckily our friends think it's really cute when he performs his little striptease act. Apparently I was a little exhibitionist when I was his age, so I guess he comes by it honestly.
Over snack he asked his buddy SM, "Do you know how to use the toilet?" knowing full well that the answer was "No." What a little show-off! It's only been a little over two weeks now and already he's acting like an expert.
*************************
So we're back to work this week after a glorious 2-week vacation. Photos to follow shortly! We especially enjoyed our trip to the cottage, despite having a few rather wet and rainy days.
Once the photos are uploaded I'll tell you more. In the meantime here is a funny story.
Hubby's fishing rod snapped after an unfortunate tangle in the weeds. It was, however, fixable (or at least temporarily). The little guy watched the whole repair job with great interest. A couple of times he also made himself useful by climbing up to the cottage to fetch supplies.
On his first supply run he said, "Mom, I need Daddy's little knife" (swiss army knife).
"Where did daddy say he left it," I asked. "On the kitchen counter," he replied.
I fetched it and off he went to find hubby. Not two minutes later he was back again. This time he said, "Mommy, I need the sculptate."
"The what?" I asked.
"The sculptate," he repeated.
"I don't know what you are talking about. Can you say it again?"
At this point he became very frustrated with me. "Sculptate!" he yelled over and over.
As I tried to figure out what he was looking for hubby yelled up the hill to us, "Did you find the scotch tape?"
:-)
***********************************
He's suddenly become Mr. Independent -- helping himself to snacks, brushing his own teeth, using the toilet and getting dressed all by himself.
The getting dressed part is quite humourous. Most days he puts his shirt on backwards and/or inside out. Often he underwear is on the wrong way too. When I point this out to him he says, "That's the way I like to wear them, Mom." Hey, who am I to judge?
He is, of course, just as skilled at taking his clothes off as he is at putting them on. If he had his choice he'd be naked all the time. Luckily our friends think it's really cute when he performs his little striptease act. Apparently I was a little exhibitionist when I was his age, so I guess he comes by it honestly.
Monday, August 03, 2009
Sad news
When I was in university I spent my summers taking children with disabilities to camp. I was an outreach worker and my job was integrate my "clients" into regular camping programs. Every week I worked with a different child. Sometimes I accompanied them to day camp, other time to overnight camp. I did this for three summers in a row and, in that time, met some very remarkable kids. Being an outreach worker was incredibly rewarding at times. I watched children get on a horse, paddle a canoe and sleep in a tent for the first time. For many of these kids, I was sharing in the best week of their entire year.
The job was also very stressful at times, particularly when working with children with more severe disabilities. My most difficult child was a boy with ADHD. He locked me in a closet in an empty building and then ran away laughing, leaving me alone in the dark. I should really get some therapy for this --- I still have nightmares.
The job was physically challenging. I did a lot of lifting and transferring and pushing wheelchairs over rugged terrain. I didn't mind the physical part. It was the emotionally challenging part that I couldn't deal with. The part I still can't deal with.
People often ask me why I didn't choose working with people with disabilities as a career path. For one, the pay sucks. But the really big reason is that I can't handle the tragedy. At least 3 or 4 kids I've worked with directly or indirectly have died. And those are just the ones I know about.
I took a teenaged girl to camp two years in a row (she had a rare disease that she picked up while living in India). The first year she could easily walk by just holding my hand. The second year, she appeared to have advanced Parkinson's Disease and required a person on each side to help her walk. Although I lost touch with her (she was in foster care) I can only imagine she is no longer alive today judging from the rapid progression of the disease. All she wanted was to be a normal teenager! It was so heartbreaking to watch.
And then there are the children with cystic fibrosis who all die young. And the ones who have succumbed to other illnesses.
Today I found out about the tragic death of my favourite little camper of all time. His name was Rodmond and I first took him to camp when he was 6 years old. This child was the most energetic, outgoing and enthusiastic kid I've ever met. He had Spina Bifida and was paralyzed from the waist down. Technically he was "disabled" but you would never know it if you spent five minutes with him. This child integrated himself into the camp program with very little help from me. Within hours of arriving at the camp, he was the most popular kid around. We couldn't go anywhere without him high-fiving councillors, or him calling out "What's up dude?" or "I'll catch you later okay?" to passersby.
Rodmond couldn't swim but he was too proud to admit it. He flailed himself across the deep end of the swimming pool. When I could see him struggling I'd reach out to grab him and he'd get so mad. "No,no, no" he'd tell me. "I can do it myself." I remember throwing him a flutter board and saying, "Hey, let's pretend we're sharks." This allowed him to save face in front of his peers while "swimming" to safety.
Rodmond had the most incredible family. His mom was an absolute inspiration. Talk about a mother who would not for one moment let her son feel sorry for himself. Rodmond was like every other kid and that was that.
On the last day of camp that first year, Rodmond cried his eyes out. He was so afraid we'd never see each other again. That night his mom called me at home and asked me to be his respite worker. I gladly accepted the job, which allowed me to visit him occasionally throughout the year.
The next year we went to camp again for two weeks. I couldn't believe I was being paid to work with him, he was such a joy. He made me smile and laugh all day long.
I think you know where this story is going... Rodmond died on June 24th but I only just found out today when my mom told me about an article in the paper. It was a story about how the health care system failed Rodmond. His parents took him to Las Vegas for his 21st birthday. On the way home they missed their connecting flight in Denver. While at the airport he became very ill and had to be hospitalized. His condition improved slightly but, due to a bureaucratic nightmare, missed his opportunity to be flown home. A few weeks later he died of an infection in Denver, with only his mother by his side. His dying wish was to go home, but his wish was never granted.
I read his obituary and didn't make it past the first two lines before I was in tears. Even with all of the health issues he faced, he had an incredibly life. Reading about what he had accomplished made me so proud. It may have been a short life but it was a life well lived.
I'll miss you forever Rodmond. You are always in my heart.
The job was also very stressful at times, particularly when working with children with more severe disabilities. My most difficult child was a boy with ADHD. He locked me in a closet in an empty building and then ran away laughing, leaving me alone in the dark. I should really get some therapy for this --- I still have nightmares.
The job was physically challenging. I did a lot of lifting and transferring and pushing wheelchairs over rugged terrain. I didn't mind the physical part. It was the emotionally challenging part that I couldn't deal with. The part I still can't deal with.
People often ask me why I didn't choose working with people with disabilities as a career path. For one, the pay sucks. But the really big reason is that I can't handle the tragedy. At least 3 or 4 kids I've worked with directly or indirectly have died. And those are just the ones I know about.
I took a teenaged girl to camp two years in a row (she had a rare disease that she picked up while living in India). The first year she could easily walk by just holding my hand. The second year, she appeared to have advanced Parkinson's Disease and required a person on each side to help her walk. Although I lost touch with her (she was in foster care) I can only imagine she is no longer alive today judging from the rapid progression of the disease. All she wanted was to be a normal teenager! It was so heartbreaking to watch.
And then there are the children with cystic fibrosis who all die young. And the ones who have succumbed to other illnesses.
Today I found out about the tragic death of my favourite little camper of all time. His name was Rodmond and I first took him to camp when he was 6 years old. This child was the most energetic, outgoing and enthusiastic kid I've ever met. He had Spina Bifida and was paralyzed from the waist down. Technically he was "disabled" but you would never know it if you spent five minutes with him. This child integrated himself into the camp program with very little help from me. Within hours of arriving at the camp, he was the most popular kid around. We couldn't go anywhere without him high-fiving councillors, or him calling out "What's up dude?" or "I'll catch you later okay?" to passersby.
Rodmond couldn't swim but he was too proud to admit it. He flailed himself across the deep end of the swimming pool. When I could see him struggling I'd reach out to grab him and he'd get so mad. "No,no, no" he'd tell me. "I can do it myself." I remember throwing him a flutter board and saying, "Hey, let's pretend we're sharks." This allowed him to save face in front of his peers while "swimming" to safety.
Rodmond had the most incredible family. His mom was an absolute inspiration. Talk about a mother who would not for one moment let her son feel sorry for himself. Rodmond was like every other kid and that was that.
On the last day of camp that first year, Rodmond cried his eyes out. He was so afraid we'd never see each other again. That night his mom called me at home and asked me to be his respite worker. I gladly accepted the job, which allowed me to visit him occasionally throughout the year.
The next year we went to camp again for two weeks. I couldn't believe I was being paid to work with him, he was such a joy. He made me smile and laugh all day long.
I think you know where this story is going... Rodmond died on June 24th but I only just found out today when my mom told me about an article in the paper. It was a story about how the health care system failed Rodmond. His parents took him to Las Vegas for his 21st birthday. On the way home they missed their connecting flight in Denver. While at the airport he became very ill and had to be hospitalized. His condition improved slightly but, due to a bureaucratic nightmare, missed his opportunity to be flown home. A few weeks later he died of an infection in Denver, with only his mother by his side. His dying wish was to go home, but his wish was never granted.
I read his obituary and didn't make it past the first two lines before I was in tears. Even with all of the health issues he faced, he had an incredibly life. Reading about what he had accomplished made me so proud. It may have been a short life but it was a life well lived.
I'll miss you forever Rodmond. You are always in my heart.
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