I've developed some really bad habits over the last year or so. Perhaps the worst of which has been not following a regular exercise program. I'm now announcing publicly that those days are over. I joined a gym and have committed to going 4 times a week over my lunch hour. So far so good. I give all of my readers to kick my butt if I don't stick with the program.
Here are some other ways I'm going to tune myself up:
- Tomorrow, I'm cutting my hair. It's not going to be the usual trim. I'm getting myself a new look. Something sexy!
- On Monday, I'm going for some much needed career counseling.
- I'm going to try to turn in my Blackberry (wish me luck with this one!)
- A lot of my stress comes from taking too much onto my own shoulders. So, I'm going to start delegating a lot more.
- I am going to treat myself to a facial.
- I'm giving up caffeine. The process has begun. Just give me a few more days and I'll have made the full switch to decaf.
- I'm putting my sweet tooth in check. No more desserts at every meal.
- When I do eat dessert, I'm going to go all out and enjoy every last bite.
- I'm going to cut back my spending. No more clothes that I don't really need. No more expensive coffee drinks. No more eating out so much.
- Guilt sucks. So I'm not going to let others (i.e. certain family members) make me feel guilt anymore.
- I'm going to go out on more dates with hubby. When is the last time we went to the movies together? Neither of us remembers.
- I'm going to convert this house into an oasis. First step: I'm going to "declutter" this house because we've got way too much crap. Maybe I'll even hire a Feng Shui consultant.
Wish me luck with this ambitious list.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I mine!
When baby boy overheard me telling hubby that he (baby boy) was my priority, he echoed my sentiments. "I mine!" he shouted, pointing at himself. I guess I know exactly where his priorities lie :)
********************
The first time he said it I just about fell off of my chair.
"Mommy," he said. "I want a baby."
I wasn't sure what to say, so I asked him if he wanted a real baby or a pretend toy baby. Without hesitating he replied "A real baby."
As it turned out, he had had the same conversation with Daddy. Only Daddy asked him if he wanted a baby brother or sister. The little guy pondered the question, but didn't reply.
Since then, he desire for a baby has become one of his favourite topics. And he's obviously given it some thought. He now says, "I want a baby. A sister kind."
No pressure or anything!!!!
************************
The icemaker, the garage door lifting, the aquarium filter, the fire engine sirens in the distance....if he hears a noise, he needs to know about it.
Any time there is a noise he pauses. His ears perk up like a German Shephard's, and he asks, "What kind is that, that sounding?"
**************************
Our hockey obsessed son has taken to wearing a basket on his head like a hockey helmet. And, to complete his uniform, he carefully balances his feet on a narrow foam block. He says, "I skating, Mommy."
Just as he has a preference for drinking milk that comes out of a red carton, he favours teams dressed in red jerseys. "I want play RED hockey, Mommy," he says.
Now that he's finally learned from all of the penalties we've given him for high sticking (i.e. hockey stick confiscation), it's "game on" all the time in our household!
********************
The first time he said it I just about fell off of my chair.
"Mommy," he said. "I want a baby."
I wasn't sure what to say, so I asked him if he wanted a real baby or a pretend toy baby. Without hesitating he replied "A real baby."
As it turned out, he had had the same conversation with Daddy. Only Daddy asked him if he wanted a baby brother or sister. The little guy pondered the question, but didn't reply.
Since then, he desire for a baby has become one of his favourite topics. And he's obviously given it some thought. He now says, "I want a baby. A sister kind."
No pressure or anything!!!!
************************
The icemaker, the garage door lifting, the aquarium filter, the fire engine sirens in the distance....if he hears a noise, he needs to know about it.
Any time there is a noise he pauses. His ears perk up like a German Shephard's, and he asks, "What kind is that, that sounding?"
**************************
Our hockey obsessed son has taken to wearing a basket on his head like a hockey helmet. And, to complete his uniform, he carefully balances his feet on a narrow foam block. He says, "I skating, Mommy."
Just as he has a preference for drinking milk that comes out of a red carton, he favours teams dressed in red jerseys. "I want play RED hockey, Mommy," he says.
Now that he's finally learned from all of the penalties we've given him for high sticking (i.e. hockey stick confiscation), it's "game on" all the time in our household!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Get me a passport out of this mess!
Twice we've tried to get the little guy's passport photo taken, and twice we've failed. He's terrified of the big camera and of the strangers who try to get him to sit still and pose.
Here is how the scene has unfolded both times: We sit him down on the stool. He cries, looks away from the camera, and begs us to pick him up. We attempt several times to sooth him and get him in the right frame of mind. When it's obvious this isn't going to work we take a break. We hang out and try to acclimatize him to the store. We butter him up. Tell him it will be fun to get his picture taken. We watch other people sit on the stool and get their pictures taken. We talk to the nice strangers operating the camera. And then we try again, and again and again until we admit defeat and go home.
I know that getting him to sit still and look at the camera is only half the battle. There is also the issue of making sure he keeps his mouth closed. The rule for passport photos is that you must have your mouth closed. Even babies and toddlers. That's so crazy! The automatic reaction of every kid in that age group is to gawk, wide mouthed at the camera.
I'd really like to know why it's essential that the "closed mouth" rule apply to young children. Do they experience a lot of problems with reckless toddlers trying to smuggle apple juice across the border? Does an open mouth mask a baby's true identity? It's so utterly stupid.
Wish me luck with attempt #3. I'm going to need it!
Here is how the scene has unfolded both times: We sit him down on the stool. He cries, looks away from the camera, and begs us to pick him up. We attempt several times to sooth him and get him in the right frame of mind. When it's obvious this isn't going to work we take a break. We hang out and try to acclimatize him to the store. We butter him up. Tell him it will be fun to get his picture taken. We watch other people sit on the stool and get their pictures taken. We talk to the nice strangers operating the camera. And then we try again, and again and again until we admit defeat and go home.
I know that getting him to sit still and look at the camera is only half the battle. There is also the issue of making sure he keeps his mouth closed. The rule for passport photos is that you must have your mouth closed. Even babies and toddlers. That's so crazy! The automatic reaction of every kid in that age group is to gawk, wide mouthed at the camera.
I'd really like to know why it's essential that the "closed mouth" rule apply to young children. Do they experience a lot of problems with reckless toddlers trying to smuggle apple juice across the border? Does an open mouth mask a baby's true identity? It's so utterly stupid.
Wish me luck with attempt #3. I'm going to need it!
Early spring cleaning
I can't believe how many toys we've accumulated in the last few months between the little guy's birthday and Christmas. It's actually obscene. At the best of times it was hard to keep our tiny place clutter free. Now I've pretty much given up trying. Of course the toys aren't the only problem. We have loads and loads of stuff in the house that we really don't need.
So here's my strategy:
- Loan out, sell, or donate all of the baby stuff (except a few keepsakes)
- Rotate the toys we have so they aren't all out at the same time
- Go through my closet and hubby's closet and get rid of clothes that haven't been worn in over a year
- Take all of my books (except the most precious ones) and donate them to the public library;
- Get rid of stuff that we never use, room by room
- Shred my boxes and boxes full of old documents
- Once all of the above have been done, I'd like to get a storage locker for all of the stuff we just don't have space for i.e. camping gear, ski equipment, luggage, etc... It can live there until we buy a new house with a basement and garage.
It's a daunting task, but if we do this little by little I think our quality of life can only get better.
So here's my strategy:
- Loan out, sell, or donate all of the baby stuff (except a few keepsakes)
- Rotate the toys we have so they aren't all out at the same time
- Go through my closet and hubby's closet and get rid of clothes that haven't been worn in over a year
- Take all of my books (except the most precious ones) and donate them to the public library;
- Get rid of stuff that we never use, room by room
- Shred my boxes and boxes full of old documents
- Once all of the above have been done, I'd like to get a storage locker for all of the stuff we just don't have space for i.e. camping gear, ski equipment, luggage, etc... It can live there until we buy a new house with a basement and garage.
It's a daunting task, but if we do this little by little I think our quality of life can only get better.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Toilet training trials and tribulations
When my son was 18-months old, the doctor told me to set up a potty and start the toilet training process. Baby boy is now almost 26 months old and has successfully used the potty six times - five pees and one pooh. The pooh success was a total fluke. I was changing his diaper right as he was starting to do his business, so I grabbed him and plopped him on the potty right as he let go.
There are days where he's very open to sitting on the potty. Sometimes he'll even initiate the activity. But usually his motivations have nothing to do with actually using the potty, but rather as a means of getting me or daddy to read him a book. Among his bathroom literature are books like "You can go to the Potty," or "The Potty Book," titles that he enjoys immensely!
These books are definitely helping him to understand the mechanics of potting training. I firmly believe that if there was a Potty Training 101 course he'd ace it. But knowing the mechanics, and actually putting them into practice are two completely separate things.....
All of the parenting books and web sites talk about looking for signs of toilet training readiness. The signs are all there but for some reason after every success we go through long periods of failure. I guess we should just chalk it up to "he's not ready."
But still there are very encouraging signs, like waking up in the morning with a dry diaper. Religiously each morning we encourage him to start his day by sitting on the potty. Occasionally he'll go along with the idea. But more often than not, he'll say "no potty."
I think one of the issues is that disposable diapers are designed too well these days. He never feels wet and uncomfortable. Perhaps it's time to switch to cloth? Or maybe we should try pull ups? It's worth a try. My mother-in-law even suggested having him wear underwear underneath his diaper so that he notices when he's gone.
Everyone I talk to has a different idea. Some say bribe him with candy. Others say let him run around naked and try to catch him in the act. And, of course, there are those who say, "don't worry, he'll toilet train when he's ready."
I guess we'll just have to experiment and see what works! If you have any words of wisdom, feel free to share them on my blog.
There are days where he's very open to sitting on the potty. Sometimes he'll even initiate the activity. But usually his motivations have nothing to do with actually using the potty, but rather as a means of getting me or daddy to read him a book. Among his bathroom literature are books like "You can go to the Potty," or "The Potty Book," titles that he enjoys immensely!
These books are definitely helping him to understand the mechanics of potting training. I firmly believe that if there was a Potty Training 101 course he'd ace it. But knowing the mechanics, and actually putting them into practice are two completely separate things.....
All of the parenting books and web sites talk about looking for signs of toilet training readiness. The signs are all there but for some reason after every success we go through long periods of failure. I guess we should just chalk it up to "he's not ready."
But still there are very encouraging signs, like waking up in the morning with a dry diaper. Religiously each morning we encourage him to start his day by sitting on the potty. Occasionally he'll go along with the idea. But more often than not, he'll say "no potty."
I think one of the issues is that disposable diapers are designed too well these days. He never feels wet and uncomfortable. Perhaps it's time to switch to cloth? Or maybe we should try pull ups? It's worth a try. My mother-in-law even suggested having him wear underwear underneath his diaper so that he notices when he's gone.
Everyone I talk to has a different idea. Some say bribe him with candy. Others say let him run around naked and try to catch him in the act. And, of course, there are those who say, "don't worry, he'll toilet train when he's ready."
I guess we'll just have to experiment and see what works! If you have any words of wisdom, feel free to share them on my blog.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I'd like to thank the academy
The little guy is like an Academy Award recipient. Lately, there is no end to his thank yous. Daddy brought him home a big, red firetruck a couple of weeks ago. Every day since, he's repeated several times a day, "Thank you for the firetruck, Daddy."
When we went for sushi last week, he waved at the lady behind the counter and said, "Thanks for your help with sushi." Afterwards, we went to the fruit market and he told the owner "Thanks for help with the apples."
****************************
Hubby was using the coffee table as a foot rest today. Instead of asking him to move his legs out of the way, baby boy said, "Are those your socks?"
When Daddy acknowledged that yes they were in fact his socks, he said "Can you move your socks and pants?"
*****************************
I think I've mentioned before that baby boy requests different colours of milk. Whole milk is "red milk" because of its red carton. Purple milk is 1% etc... Over the holidays, he kept demanding "brown milk." You guessed it -- egg nog! He would have chugged it by the gallon if we had let him.
****************************
The little guy is deathly afraid of icicles. "No, no icicles!!!" he yells when he sees them out the window. Frankly, I find them frightening too. They sometimes hang down like menacing fanged teeth. But besides that, they sound like thunder when the fall from the roof. Just the other day, during a warm spell, a huge ice chunk made a 3 foot hole in our fence! For obvious reasons, the yard is out of bounds as a play areas during the winter.
The other day I was telling baby boy about how careful we have to be around icicles. I asked him what he should do if he saw an icicle, hoping he would say, "don't go near it." Instead he said, "I stomp, stomp, stomp it," and dramatically stomped around the room pounding his foot on the floor. For someone who is afraid of them, he sure was acting like a tough guy.
When we went for sushi last week, he waved at the lady behind the counter and said, "Thanks for your help with sushi." Afterwards, we went to the fruit market and he told the owner "Thanks for help with the apples."
****************************
Hubby was using the coffee table as a foot rest today. Instead of asking him to move his legs out of the way, baby boy said, "Are those your socks?"
When Daddy acknowledged that yes they were in fact his socks, he said "Can you move your socks and pants?"
*****************************
I think I've mentioned before that baby boy requests different colours of milk. Whole milk is "red milk" because of its red carton. Purple milk is 1% etc... Over the holidays, he kept demanding "brown milk." You guessed it -- egg nog! He would have chugged it by the gallon if we had let him.
****************************
The little guy is deathly afraid of icicles. "No, no icicles!!!" he yells when he sees them out the window. Frankly, I find them frightening too. They sometimes hang down like menacing fanged teeth. But besides that, they sound like thunder when the fall from the roof. Just the other day, during a warm spell, a huge ice chunk made a 3 foot hole in our fence! For obvious reasons, the yard is out of bounds as a play areas during the winter.
The other day I was telling baby boy about how careful we have to be around icicles. I asked him what he should do if he saw an icicle, hoping he would say, "don't go near it." Instead he said, "I stomp, stomp, stomp it," and dramatically stomped around the room pounding his foot on the floor. For someone who is afraid of them, he sure was acting like a tough guy.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Spoken like a true toddler
I've been using this blog to document the little guy's language development. In the last few weeks he's started adding new elements to his speech. For instance, he now identifies who he's talking to:
"I want an orange, Mommy"
"Thank you for big fire truck, Daddy"
He now likes to make comparisons. For example, the other day told us he was swimming on the bed. To clarify, he said, "Pretend swimming. Not real." And when he saw the scary totem poles and masks at the museum, he was comforted when he was told that they weren't real.
His other favourite comparison is fresh vs. dirty. "Fresh diaper!" he yells while we're changing him. At night he picks up his water bottle and says, "Water dirty, mommy. I want fresh water."
But I think that perhaps the most amazing development is how he now links his sentences to express more complex ideas. A good example of this was on New Year's eve. We were at a party, and he didn't want to leave because he was having too good of a time. As a stalling tactic he said, "Daddy, can you tell the people on the couch to move? I'll sleep on the couch."
*******************************
Baby boy went back to daycare this week. When the caregiver asked him what he had done on his holidays he replied excitedly, "I bought groceries!"
Apparently grocery shopping was much more noteworthy than going to the farm; the children's museum, the art gallery, seeing a waterfall, visiting the horse stables, tobogganing, playing at the park, eating sushi, buying and x-mas tree and decorating it, making pasta, baking pretzels, opening a billion toys on x-mas morning etc....
********************************
At the art gallery there is a sculpture of a gigantic newborn baby. It looks real, save for its elephant-like proportions. Baby boy stopped in his tracks when he saw it. When he realized it was "pretend not real" he bravely went in for a closer look. He didn't say anything for a while. But after inspecting the umbilical cord, he pronounced very loudly so that his voice could echo throughout the gallery, "Look mommy. Giant baby has penis!" When I explained to him that it was an umbilical cord he said, "Baby penis bilical cord."
:-)
"I want an orange, Mommy"
"Thank you for big fire truck, Daddy"
He now likes to make comparisons. For example, the other day told us he was swimming on the bed. To clarify, he said, "Pretend swimming. Not real." And when he saw the scary totem poles and masks at the museum, he was comforted when he was told that they weren't real.
His other favourite comparison is fresh vs. dirty. "Fresh diaper!" he yells while we're changing him. At night he picks up his water bottle and says, "Water dirty, mommy. I want fresh water."
But I think that perhaps the most amazing development is how he now links his sentences to express more complex ideas. A good example of this was on New Year's eve. We were at a party, and he didn't want to leave because he was having too good of a time. As a stalling tactic he said, "Daddy, can you tell the people on the couch to move? I'll sleep on the couch."
*******************************
Baby boy went back to daycare this week. When the caregiver asked him what he had done on his holidays he replied excitedly, "I bought groceries!"
Apparently grocery shopping was much more noteworthy than going to the farm; the children's museum, the art gallery, seeing a waterfall, visiting the horse stables, tobogganing, playing at the park, eating sushi, buying and x-mas tree and decorating it, making pasta, baking pretzels, opening a billion toys on x-mas morning etc....
********************************
At the art gallery there is a sculpture of a gigantic newborn baby. It looks real, save for its elephant-like proportions. Baby boy stopped in his tracks when he saw it. When he realized it was "pretend not real" he bravely went in for a closer look. He didn't say anything for a while. But after inspecting the umbilical cord, he pronounced very loudly so that his voice could echo throughout the gallery, "Look mommy. Giant baby has penis!" When I explained to him that it was an umbilical cord he said, "Baby penis bilical cord."
:-)
Monday, December 31, 2007
The joys of Christmas
Somewhere along the way, the little guy has developed a concept of Santa. Where it came from, I'm not sure. But I guess I'm not too surprised with all of the hype that surrounds us at this time of year.
We have a cardboard book that is shaped like a Christmas tree. In it there is a picture of Santa loading up his sleigh with presents for all of the good boys and girls. But baby boy doesn't call it a sleigh -- rather it's Santa "rue-doo-doo" (his word for stroller from when he was really little. It is one of those nonsense words that has stuck).
After reading that book about a billion times, he seemed very interested in the whole gift opening part (again, not surprised. His birthday wasn't that long ago).
On Christmas eve, we put all of the presents under the tree. When he got up on Christmas morning we told him that Santa had come. When he came downstairs and saw all of the gifts, he couldn't contain his excitement. He grabbed a present and ran and put it on the coffee table. Then he ran back and grabbed another and put it on the coffee table. Back and forth he went with sheer delight.
Then he started opening them. All of them. Even the ones for Mommy and Daddy and Amma. None of us minded because he was having so much fun. And besides he was just "helping."
Later in the morning we went to the stables to visit the horses, and then to the park for a play. It was a beautiful sunny day -- just a perfect Christmas Day. And even more special than usual because Amma was there.
We have a cardboard book that is shaped like a Christmas tree. In it there is a picture of Santa loading up his sleigh with presents for all of the good boys and girls. But baby boy doesn't call it a sleigh -- rather it's Santa "rue-doo-doo" (his word for stroller from when he was really little. It is one of those nonsense words that has stuck).
After reading that book about a billion times, he seemed very interested in the whole gift opening part (again, not surprised. His birthday wasn't that long ago).
On Christmas eve, we put all of the presents under the tree. When he got up on Christmas morning we told him that Santa had come. When he came downstairs and saw all of the gifts, he couldn't contain his excitement. He grabbed a present and ran and put it on the coffee table. Then he ran back and grabbed another and put it on the coffee table. Back and forth he went with sheer delight.
Then he started opening them. All of them. Even the ones for Mommy and Daddy and Amma. None of us minded because he was having so much fun. And besides he was just "helping."
Later in the morning we went to the stables to visit the horses, and then to the park for a play. It was a beautiful sunny day -- just a perfect Christmas Day. And even more special than usual because Amma was there.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
The birds and the bees start early
The other day, Baby Boy came out and asked me a question that was obviously on his mind.
"Mommy have penis?"
I carefully crafted a response.
"No Mommy doesn't have a penis. Only boys have penises. Mommy is a girl. Girls have vaginas."
"Daddy has penis?" he then asked.
"Yes, daddy has a penis. He's a boy."
Since then, he keeps on broaching the topic with me. He's really trying to get his facts straight. Now, when he asks if I have a penis, I say "What do you think?" Usually (not always) he replies, "Mommy has gina."
At first I wondered if it was odd for a 2-year old to ask such a question. I soon discovered that this is a common theme for this age group. I think it coincides with all the potty training books that we've been reading. He's suddenly become very aware of certain body parts. I guess it was only a matter of time before he noticed that there were "mechanical differences" between the genders.
Tonight I was relaying this story to a friend over dinner in a restaurant. Bad idea! When the little guy caught on to what we were talking about he yelled quite loudly, "Mommy penis! Mommy has gina!" Then he started running through the restaurant yelling "penis!" and "gina!" Luckily her annunciation wasn't clear enough for the other diners to decipher. Or if they did, they quietly laughed behind their napkins. I'm sure my face was bright red!
Now that he's old enough to learn about these body parts, I wonder if he's old enough to know learn about when NOT to talk about them....
"Mommy have penis?"
I carefully crafted a response.
"No Mommy doesn't have a penis. Only boys have penises. Mommy is a girl. Girls have vaginas."
"Daddy has penis?" he then asked.
"Yes, daddy has a penis. He's a boy."
Since then, he keeps on broaching the topic with me. He's really trying to get his facts straight. Now, when he asks if I have a penis, I say "What do you think?" Usually (not always) he replies, "Mommy has gina."
At first I wondered if it was odd for a 2-year old to ask such a question. I soon discovered that this is a common theme for this age group. I think it coincides with all the potty training books that we've been reading. He's suddenly become very aware of certain body parts. I guess it was only a matter of time before he noticed that there were "mechanical differences" between the genders.
Tonight I was relaying this story to a friend over dinner in a restaurant. Bad idea! When the little guy caught on to what we were talking about he yelled quite loudly, "Mommy penis! Mommy has gina!" Then he started running through the restaurant yelling "penis!" and "gina!" Luckily her annunciation wasn't clear enough for the other diners to decipher. Or if they did, they quietly laughed behind their napkins. I'm sure my face was bright red!
Now that he's old enough to learn about these body parts, I wonder if he's old enough to know learn about when NOT to talk about them....
Monday, December 17, 2007
My rant as a concerned parent
He knows the names of all of the Thomas the Tank Engine characters, and talks about them like they are close, personal friends.
I receive frequent requests to watch DVDs or read books about Manna-the-pooh (whinnie-the-pooh).
He's been able to rattle off the songs from Dora the Explorer since very early on in his language development.
It's hard to believe that at the age of 2 (with extremely limited exposure to television) he's become so enamored with these popular childhood figures. It's actually kind of disturbing. The toy industry is already sucking us in. After a great deal of hesitation, I bought baby boy a wooden Thomas toy for Christmas. He plays with Thomas toys all the time at his caregiver's house and I know he'll be overjoyed when he opens his gift.
As soon as I got it home I checked the serial number to make sure it wasn't among the Thomas toys that were recently recalled due to high levels of lead in the paint. Even though it came up clean, I still feel a bit hesitant to give it to him. I feel the same way about toys made by Matel (speaking of massive recalls!) or any other toy company for that matter.
Can we really be confident that the toys we buy are safe? How can I be sure that our toy box isn't a toxic waste pile? It certainly contains a lot of plastic -- another thing that I'm not overly happy about these days. It's bad enough that many sippy cups and baby bottles contain bisphenol-A and who knows what other sorts of nastiness in them. Kids (and adults for that matter) live in a plastic universe. Just read this blog, if you are interested in knowing just how much plastic we are exposed to each and every day. Are we slowly poisoning our children (and ourselves) without even knowing it?
Then there are the child car seat recalls.
Medications full of dye.
Salt and sugar laden, pre-packaged food (crap) that advertisers try to make us feel good about feeding our families.
Products that are STILL on the shelves that should have been removed years ago (i.e. bumper pads and bathing rings). What company, in good conscience, still sells these items?
When I took prenatal classes, I was told to throw away any baby powder or baby oil found in the medicine cabinet. The oil is hazardous to ingest, and powder dangerous to inhale. Apparently the baby industry hasn't caught onto this yet, because these products are still lining store shelves. And there are a lot of parents out there who, like me, had no idea that any of these items were unsafe.
So you see why I'm holding my nose about putting a Thomas toy under the tree this year? Maybe it's not too late to get a refund....
I receive frequent requests to watch DVDs or read books about Manna-the-pooh (whinnie-the-pooh).
He's been able to rattle off the songs from Dora the Explorer since very early on in his language development.
It's hard to believe that at the age of 2 (with extremely limited exposure to television) he's become so enamored with these popular childhood figures. It's actually kind of disturbing. The toy industry is already sucking us in. After a great deal of hesitation, I bought baby boy a wooden Thomas toy for Christmas. He plays with Thomas toys all the time at his caregiver's house and I know he'll be overjoyed when he opens his gift.
As soon as I got it home I checked the serial number to make sure it wasn't among the Thomas toys that were recently recalled due to high levels of lead in the paint. Even though it came up clean, I still feel a bit hesitant to give it to him. I feel the same way about toys made by Matel (speaking of massive recalls!) or any other toy company for that matter.
Can we really be confident that the toys we buy are safe? How can I be sure that our toy box isn't a toxic waste pile? It certainly contains a lot of plastic -- another thing that I'm not overly happy about these days. It's bad enough that many sippy cups and baby bottles contain bisphenol-A and who knows what other sorts of nastiness in them. Kids (and adults for that matter) live in a plastic universe. Just read this blog, if you are interested in knowing just how much plastic we are exposed to each and every day. Are we slowly poisoning our children (and ourselves) without even knowing it?
Then there are the child car seat recalls.
Medications full of dye.
Salt and sugar laden, pre-packaged food (crap) that advertisers try to make us feel good about feeding our families.
Products that are STILL on the shelves that should have been removed years ago (i.e. bumper pads and bathing rings). What company, in good conscience, still sells these items?
When I took prenatal classes, I was told to throw away any baby powder or baby oil found in the medicine cabinet. The oil is hazardous to ingest, and powder dangerous to inhale. Apparently the baby industry hasn't caught onto this yet, because these products are still lining store shelves. And there are a lot of parents out there who, like me, had no idea that any of these items were unsafe.
So you see why I'm holding my nose about putting a Thomas toy under the tree this year? Maybe it's not too late to get a refund....
Friday, December 14, 2007
2 never looked so good!
On the big day!
The life of the party.
Aaaahhh! My cake is on fire!
Mmmm cake....Soooo doog!!
This cake has obviously gone to my head!
A helping hand.
OMG! Did you see this present? It's the BEST thing ever.
It's KSH's saw!!! How did he know that was what I wanted for my birthday?
Bonus!! My saw came with a matching drill!
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Here come the terrible 2s!
The terrible twos are officially here! Baby boy has figured out a couple of things about birthday.
1. Cake is soooo yummmy! (to quote)
2. Presents are good
He scored all sorts of loot this year, including a SAW just like KSH's (his eyes were as big as saucers when he opened it up), a guitar (for jamming with dad), a dump truck, and a toy sushi bento box. KM always teases me about having an "urban baby." When I told her about the sushi set she said, "Urban babies eat sushi." If you've ever seen the book "Urban Babies Wear Black" you'll understand why that's so funny :-)
KM and KSH hosted the big birthday brunch. Lots of good food, and good company!
On his actual birthday, we took him out for avocado rolls, noodle soup and a "bubble shake." Actually, it was a coconut shake, but he calls it a bubble shake because he once saw me drink bubble tea. He later described his bubble shake as "freezy and juicy" and sooooo yummy.
As you can see, he's off to a good year.
******************************
We have a pest problem. Little caterpillars. They must hatch out of one of our plants -- we have no clue where they are coming from. Every three or four weeks, I'll catch a few of them trekking across the house. Baby boy calls them "wooses," his word for worms.
I was getting breakfast ready last week and he came running into the kitchen yelling "look!!!!" He handed me something. I looked down and just about jumped out of my skin. It was a dead woose! He was so proud of himself. "I find a woose," he repeated over and over again.
********************************
I've created a monster. When I was a kid, I loved the movie/musical Annie. So I ordered the DVD, figuring it would be nice to have in our collection. Apparently my enthusiasm for Annie has rubbed off on the little guy.
He talks about Daddy Warbucks, Miss Hannigan and Sandy the dog all the time. He knows all of the songs by heart, and sings them with great enthusiasm. He requests to watch "Hard knock life song" 50 times a day. Or, he'll say, "I want to watch sad song." He's referring to the song Maybe, where the orphans daydream about their parents coming to pick them up at the orphanage. It really is a sad song.....
And, perhaps the most humourous side effect of his love of all things "Annie" -- the tap dancing. There is a scene in the movie where Annie and Miss Farrell are getting ready to go to the movies and they do a little tap dance. Baby boy does a great imitation. Just last week, when we were at his two year check up with the doctor, he did the dance across the examination room. It was especially funny because he was only wearing a diaper and a pair of slippers.
********************************
Now that the little guy has a guitar, he can jam with daddy.
They are so funny to watch! As daddy strums a tune on the guitar, they make up lyrics. The other day, I over heard baby boy singing a little refrain that went something like this:
"Scooby....Saw...Scooby and icicles fall."
**************************************
Here are some of our favourite little guy quotes:
"It's sooooo yummy!"
"Look! It's shoaning!" (snowing)
"I want ninin toast" (raisin toast)
"whatcha do-ning?"
"I can check" (he likes to check for firetrucks on the way home from daycare. He also likes to check to see if daddy's home from work.)
1. Cake is soooo yummmy! (to quote)
2. Presents are good
He scored all sorts of loot this year, including a SAW just like KSH's (his eyes were as big as saucers when he opened it up), a guitar (for jamming with dad), a dump truck, and a toy sushi bento box. KM always teases me about having an "urban baby." When I told her about the sushi set she said, "Urban babies eat sushi." If you've ever seen the book "Urban Babies Wear Black" you'll understand why that's so funny :-)
KM and KSH hosted the big birthday brunch. Lots of good food, and good company!
On his actual birthday, we took him out for avocado rolls, noodle soup and a "bubble shake." Actually, it was a coconut shake, but he calls it a bubble shake because he once saw me drink bubble tea. He later described his bubble shake as "freezy and juicy" and sooooo yummy.
As you can see, he's off to a good year.
******************************
We have a pest problem. Little caterpillars. They must hatch out of one of our plants -- we have no clue where they are coming from. Every three or four weeks, I'll catch a few of them trekking across the house. Baby boy calls them "wooses," his word for worms.
I was getting breakfast ready last week and he came running into the kitchen yelling "look!!!!" He handed me something. I looked down and just about jumped out of my skin. It was a dead woose! He was so proud of himself. "I find a woose," he repeated over and over again.
********************************
I've created a monster. When I was a kid, I loved the movie/musical Annie. So I ordered the DVD, figuring it would be nice to have in our collection. Apparently my enthusiasm for Annie has rubbed off on the little guy.
He talks about Daddy Warbucks, Miss Hannigan and Sandy the dog all the time. He knows all of the songs by heart, and sings them with great enthusiasm. He requests to watch "Hard knock life song" 50 times a day. Or, he'll say, "I want to watch sad song." He's referring to the song Maybe, where the orphans daydream about their parents coming to pick them up at the orphanage. It really is a sad song.....
And, perhaps the most humourous side effect of his love of all things "Annie" -- the tap dancing. There is a scene in the movie where Annie and Miss Farrell are getting ready to go to the movies and they do a little tap dance. Baby boy does a great imitation. Just last week, when we were at his two year check up with the doctor, he did the dance across the examination room. It was especially funny because he was only wearing a diaper and a pair of slippers.
********************************
Now that the little guy has a guitar, he can jam with daddy.
They are so funny to watch! As daddy strums a tune on the guitar, they make up lyrics. The other day, I over heard baby boy singing a little refrain that went something like this:
"Scooby....Saw...Scooby and icicles fall."
**************************************
Here are some of our favourite little guy quotes:
"It's sooooo yummy!"
"Look! It's shoaning!" (snowing)
"I want ninin toast" (raisin toast)
"whatcha do-ning?"
"I can check" (he likes to check for firetrucks on the way home from daycare. He also likes to check to see if daddy's home from work.)
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Catching up
My life is pretty crazy these days so I'm finding it hard to find time to right. Hopefully things will slow down a bit as the Christmas season approaches. I'll cross my fingers. I've made a list of all of things I wanted to write about in my blog. I probably won't get through them all today. But I will write again soon, I promise!
***************************
A few weeks ago baby boy came up to me and said, "Give mommy kiss?" I leaned in and accepted a big smooch. Afterwards, Daddy asked, "Hey, where's my kiss?" After considering the idea, baby boy said "No."
"Doesn't Daddy get kisses?"
He thought about it for a second and then replied, "Sometimes."
Poor Daddy!
**********************************
As hubby was loading the little guy into the car the other day, he repeat over and over, "I want to go Loblaws." Daddy asked "Why do you want to go to Loblaws?" Baby boy looked at him like he had two heads and replied in a "duhhhh" tone of voice, "To buy groceries!"
**********************************
M Baby has recently discovered the healing power of kisses. Kisses magically make all boo-boos disappear. When he hurt one of his fingers one day as I was picking him up from daycare he said, "Mommy kiss better?"
One of the other kids watched as I gave his finger an "all better" kiss, and decided to come to the rescue as well. He grabbed baby boy's finger, which was still outstretched, and goobered all over it. It seemed to do the trick - I never heard another word about a sore finger!
**********************************
Our caregivers family just adopted a 2-year old cat, to my son's delight. When I was dropping him off one morning, the cat greeted us at the door. Normally I get a good-bye hug and kiss or, at the very least, a wave. Nothing. I was completely forgotten as he tore off through the house after that cat yelling, "Pat his nose!" I'm not sure if the cat quite appreciates how lucky he is!
Speaking of baby boy's affection for that cat....I caught he offering his beloved tee-tee to the cat one day. If one of the other kids at daycare even looks at his tee-tee sideways, he completely freaks out. But apparently sharing with the cat is okay.
Which reminds me....sharing is becoming a big thing these days. M Baby loves the praise that gets heaped on him when he shares nicely. But there is one toy in particular that he flat out refuses to share. It's a little red car that he carries around with him all day long. When he leaves at the end of the day, it takes a lot of persuasion to get it out of his tight little grip. One morning our caregiver looked high and low for that car and couldn't find it. Then, all of a sudden, the little guy appeared with it in his hand. It seems that he has taken to hiding his car before he leaves each night, so none of the other kids can play with it.
************************************
"I want see" comes out of his mouth about a thousand times a day. He drags the footstool around the kitchen, and pulls it up to wherever the action is.
If you're making coffee, he's right in there. "I want see making coffee."
If you're slicing up an orange, "I want see oranges." And so on.
One evening, Hubby was making one of our favourite Chinese recipes. To make this dish, you have to stew hard-boiled eggs in a sauce. The little guy pulled up his stool to watch as the eggs went into the sauce-filled pot. After observing for a few moments he said, "I want watch eggs swimming."
********************************************
Toilet training isn't proceeding as quickly as we'd like. Case and point: A couple of weeks ago, following a bath, he peed on the bed. When daddy put him on the floor to clean up the mess, he peed all over the carpet.
Daddy decided it was an opportunity to have a talk about his potty, which was only a foot away from the puddle on the floor (sigh). He explained to the little guy that when he felt like pee-pee was about to come out, he should go sit on his potty. They talked about the virtues of the potty for a few minutes. The little guy seemed to understand, and behaved almost enthusiastic about the idea. Daddy concluded the conversation by asking, "Where do you go pee-pee?" to which baby boy replied, "On the floor!" One step forward, two steps back......
**********************************************
Building blocks are becoming all the rage around our toy box. The little guy loves to build houses. When it's time to bring out the blocks, he says "I want to buy a house." Translation: I want to build a house.
I have to say, he's come up with some pretty interesting house designs, including ones with:
- integrated "bubble machines." I think he may be on to something....
- Decorative "cheese wedge" sconces
- Roof-top garages
- Special animal access windows for birds, horses, giraffes, cows etc...In case they want to stop in to play.
- built in amusement vehicles such as canoes, trucks and tractors
***********************************************
We have a toy pirate ship. He calls the crows nest the "high table." And he using the sail as a change mat to change the dirty pirate diapers :-)
************************************************
The little guy loves shopping for groceries. If we don't have plans to go to the store, he takes matters into his own hands.
Often, he grabs one of our reusable shopping bags, throws it over he shoulder and heads for the front door yelling, "Bye! See yah!" When we ask him where he's going he says, "Go buy gross-ries."
Normally the conversation goes like this:
"Okay, bye! Oh when you're at the grocery store can you buy some eggs and some milk?"
"Okay. Buy eggs...milk. I going buy a pie. Go get pie, gross-ries."
"Oh, and can you buy some cereal?"
"Okay. Bye, see yah!....I go buy pie. Open the door?"
I think that if we actually opened up the door, he'd head down to Loblaws on his own.
*******************************************
That's it for now. More to come soon! After all, someone is turning two later this week. I'll have to document all the festivities!
***************************
A few weeks ago baby boy came up to me and said, "Give mommy kiss?" I leaned in and accepted a big smooch. Afterwards, Daddy asked, "Hey, where's my kiss?" After considering the idea, baby boy said "No."
"Doesn't Daddy get kisses?"
He thought about it for a second and then replied, "Sometimes."
Poor Daddy!
**********************************
As hubby was loading the little guy into the car the other day, he repeat over and over, "I want to go Loblaws." Daddy asked "Why do you want to go to Loblaws?" Baby boy looked at him like he had two heads and replied in a "duhhhh" tone of voice, "To buy groceries!"
**********************************
M Baby has recently discovered the healing power of kisses. Kisses magically make all boo-boos disappear. When he hurt one of his fingers one day as I was picking him up from daycare he said, "Mommy kiss better?"
One of the other kids watched as I gave his finger an "all better" kiss, and decided to come to the rescue as well. He grabbed baby boy's finger, which was still outstretched, and goobered all over it. It seemed to do the trick - I never heard another word about a sore finger!
**********************************
Our caregivers family just adopted a 2-year old cat, to my son's delight. When I was dropping him off one morning, the cat greeted us at the door. Normally I get a good-bye hug and kiss or, at the very least, a wave. Nothing. I was completely forgotten as he tore off through the house after that cat yelling, "Pat his nose!" I'm not sure if the cat quite appreciates how lucky he is!
Speaking of baby boy's affection for that cat....I caught he offering his beloved tee-tee to the cat one day. If one of the other kids at daycare even looks at his tee-tee sideways, he completely freaks out. But apparently sharing with the cat is okay.
Which reminds me....sharing is becoming a big thing these days. M Baby loves the praise that gets heaped on him when he shares nicely. But there is one toy in particular that he flat out refuses to share. It's a little red car that he carries around with him all day long. When he leaves at the end of the day, it takes a lot of persuasion to get it out of his tight little grip. One morning our caregiver looked high and low for that car and couldn't find it. Then, all of a sudden, the little guy appeared with it in his hand. It seems that he has taken to hiding his car before he leaves each night, so none of the other kids can play with it.
************************************
"I want see" comes out of his mouth about a thousand times a day. He drags the footstool around the kitchen, and pulls it up to wherever the action is.
If you're making coffee, he's right in there. "I want see making coffee."
If you're slicing up an orange, "I want see oranges." And so on.
One evening, Hubby was making one of our favourite Chinese recipes. To make this dish, you have to stew hard-boiled eggs in a sauce. The little guy pulled up his stool to watch as the eggs went into the sauce-filled pot. After observing for a few moments he said, "I want watch eggs swimming."
********************************************
Toilet training isn't proceeding as quickly as we'd like. Case and point: A couple of weeks ago, following a bath, he peed on the bed. When daddy put him on the floor to clean up the mess, he peed all over the carpet.
Daddy decided it was an opportunity to have a talk about his potty, which was only a foot away from the puddle on the floor (sigh). He explained to the little guy that when he felt like pee-pee was about to come out, he should go sit on his potty. They talked about the virtues of the potty for a few minutes. The little guy seemed to understand, and behaved almost enthusiastic about the idea. Daddy concluded the conversation by asking, "Where do you go pee-pee?" to which baby boy replied, "On the floor!" One step forward, two steps back......
**********************************************
Building blocks are becoming all the rage around our toy box. The little guy loves to build houses. When it's time to bring out the blocks, he says "I want to buy a house." Translation: I want to build a house.
I have to say, he's come up with some pretty interesting house designs, including ones with:
- integrated "bubble machines." I think he may be on to something....
- Decorative "cheese wedge" sconces
- Roof-top garages
- Special animal access windows for birds, horses, giraffes, cows etc...In case they want to stop in to play.
- built in amusement vehicles such as canoes, trucks and tractors
***********************************************
We have a toy pirate ship. He calls the crows nest the "high table." And he using the sail as a change mat to change the dirty pirate diapers :-)
************************************************
The little guy loves shopping for groceries. If we don't have plans to go to the store, he takes matters into his own hands.
Often, he grabs one of our reusable shopping bags, throws it over he shoulder and heads for the front door yelling, "Bye! See yah!" When we ask him where he's going he says, "Go buy gross-ries."
Normally the conversation goes like this:
"Okay, bye! Oh when you're at the grocery store can you buy some eggs and some milk?"
"Okay. Buy eggs...milk. I going buy a pie. Go get pie, gross-ries."
"Oh, and can you buy some cereal?"
"Okay. Bye, see yah!....I go buy pie. Open the door?"
I think that if we actually opened up the door, he'd head down to Loblaws on his own.
*******************************************
That's it for now. More to come soon! After all, someone is turning two later this week. I'll have to document all the festivities!
Monday, November 05, 2007
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Saturday, November 03, 2007
It's hockey, hockey, hockey all the time!
"I want play hockey!" he demands morning, noon and night.
"I want hockey stick!"
"I want watch hockey!"
We don't have a hockey stick for him yet, but it's next on the toy purchase list. The tree branches that we scavenge at the park and "pretend" are hockey sticks just aren't cutting it anymore. Especially when he sees bigger kids playing with "real" hockey sticks.
His interest in hockey began a month or so again when we took him into an arena and watched some teen-aged girl hockey team practicing. It was a mixed experience. He loved watching the action on the ice, but wasn't too keen on the cold temperature or the loud banging of pucks against the glass. On the way out of the rink he said, "Hockey's nice, but too loud."
Since then he's discovered that playing ball hockey is nice too, and much quieter! I took him to the park a couple of weekends ago, and one of the other kids let him play with his plastic hockey sticks. The boy has been hooked ever since!
Right now, most of his joy of the sport comes in the form of swinging a stick around in the air (we're still working on his stick handling skills.....he's a bit of a high sticker). That, and any game that involves chasing a ball around is pretty cool in his eyes.
Watch out hockey fans - this little guy will soon be taking to the ice!
"I want hockey stick!"
"I want watch hockey!"
We don't have a hockey stick for him yet, but it's next on the toy purchase list. The tree branches that we scavenge at the park and "pretend" are hockey sticks just aren't cutting it anymore. Especially when he sees bigger kids playing with "real" hockey sticks.
His interest in hockey began a month or so again when we took him into an arena and watched some teen-aged girl hockey team practicing. It was a mixed experience. He loved watching the action on the ice, but wasn't too keen on the cold temperature or the loud banging of pucks against the glass. On the way out of the rink he said, "Hockey's nice, but too loud."
Since then he's discovered that playing ball hockey is nice too, and much quieter! I took him to the park a couple of weekends ago, and one of the other kids let him play with his plastic hockey sticks. The boy has been hooked ever since!
Right now, most of his joy of the sport comes in the form of swinging a stick around in the air (we're still working on his stick handling skills.....he's a bit of a high sticker). That, and any game that involves chasing a ball around is pretty cool in his eyes.
Watch out hockey fans - this little guy will soon be taking to the ice!
Friday, November 02, 2007
How it all began
Hubby asked me today if I ever posted our birth story on the blog. Since this blog is very much a diary of Baby Boy's early years, I thought it was a good idea. It's almost two years out of date, but here it is all the same, told from the perspective of daddy (note: I've used initials instead of proper names):
*************************
Baby boy's birth was a literally a wild ride. JK had been having some false labor up until about 11:00pm on Tuesday when she fell asleep. At 3:00am (of course) she was awakened by a loud popping sound which was her water breaking. At that point and for about the next hour her contractions were very strong and 5 minutes apart. We called the midwife, CB, and she said call back in an hour, or sooner if anything changes. With first babies the assumption is that labor will carry on like this for hours. My role was pretty much non-existent at this point. JK fell into a trance-like state and did not want to be touched (except by the hot water in the shower).
One hour later, I called CB and said that the last three contractions came 2 minutes apart! In minutes CB was at our door. When she performed the initial assessment JK was FULLY dilated but unfortunately Baby Boy was breech (all our efforts in the preceding weeks to turn him had either failed or the little bugger managed to turn back). Anyway, at this point CB said I'm sorry but from here on out this isn't going to happen the way you planned. We're going to the hospital now, in an ambulance (this was the wild ride part), and an emergency c-section is really the only safe option now. On the way to the hospital JK was instructed that under no circumstance should she push at all, no matter what. Otherwise a very high-risk delivery in the ambulance was a distinct possibility.
Had Baby Boy been facing head down there is no way we would have had time to make it to the hospital, CB would later estimate that he would have been born before 5:00am if all had been well. But make it to the hospital we did. Once there I was immediately sent to attend to some administrative details (i.e., they made sure I was out of the way while they sized up the situation). I thought this was pretty lame, and JK was distressed by my absence and protested that the operation not start until I returned. They assured her it would not and when I returned I was sent off to change into hospital scrubs and then met JK and the team in the OR. JK was all ready to go: epidural had been administered; beeping machines had been attached; cloth barrier to block JK's view had been erected; obstetrician Dr. D--who was taking over primary care of JK (CB was to retain care of Baby Boy)--had scalpel in hand; the resident looked eager to observe; nurses looked eager to nurse; an old salty-looking surgeon with white hair and a pirate-style bandana (instead of the standard issue paper hat) stood back looking sleepy; the anesthesiologist scurried around cracking jokes ("JO, you are welcome to stand and watch the whole thing, or sit on this chair. But if you get dizzy at any point and feel like you might faint, just lay on the floor over there, we find that that position gives fathers the least distance to fall if they do faint). The procedure unfolded rather quickly--like clockwork really. Clearly they had done this once or twice before. As the moment arrived to reach in and pluck Baby Boy from the womb I leaned in for a better look. CB explained that this would be the tricky part and that it might look bad because JK was fully dilated, and with Baby Boy in a full breech position he was wedged deep in her pelvis. With vigor, Dr. D tried twice to dislodge him, but he wouldn't budge, and with that the old surgeon elbowed Dr. D out of the way, reached in with his giant hands and with some effort and a grunt brought Baby Boy into the world on the first pull. I was completely astounded by the sight of Baby Boy. While JK couldn't see the delivery she could see my face, so she knew the exact moment when he arrived by the widening of my eyes.
Baby Boy's one minute Apgar score was 9/10 (blue hands and feet kept him from scoring a ten). JK and Baby Boy were only allowed to meet for a few seconds before CB, Baby Boy and I were ushered out of the OR and over to a nursery on the other side of the building. By now Baby Boy's temperature was 36 degrees so they laid him on my chest inside my shirt and piled warm blankets on us--which they obtained from a very slick automatic warm blanket-dispensing machine. This was the hardest part for JK (and Baby Boy and I) because she ended up being separated from us for over an hour. Our spirits improved considerably when we were reunited in the recovery room, and everyone was amazed when Baby Boy nursed within 10 seconds of being presented to JK.
In the days that followed the hospital environment was a bit stressful with constant interruptions and people looking over our shoulders, but the staff were very kind and with it being the 'HM' we had lots of opportunities to practice our official languages. Though most of the staff spoke English, there were many baby-specific and health care-specific Engish and French terms that they/we did not know, so comedy ensued with our attempts to understand each other. We left the hospital after two nights, and life has been much better since we returned home.
*************************
Baby boy's birth was a literally a wild ride. JK had been having some false labor up until about 11:00pm on Tuesday when she fell asleep. At 3:00am (of course) she was awakened by a loud popping sound which was her water breaking. At that point and for about the next hour her contractions were very strong and 5 minutes apart. We called the midwife, CB, and she said call back in an hour, or sooner if anything changes. With first babies the assumption is that labor will carry on like this for hours. My role was pretty much non-existent at this point. JK fell into a trance-like state and did not want to be touched (except by the hot water in the shower).
One hour later, I called CB and said that the last three contractions came 2 minutes apart! In minutes CB was at our door. When she performed the initial assessment JK was FULLY dilated but unfortunately Baby Boy was breech (all our efforts in the preceding weeks to turn him had either failed or the little bugger managed to turn back). Anyway, at this point CB said I'm sorry but from here on out this isn't going to happen the way you planned. We're going to the hospital now, in an ambulance (this was the wild ride part), and an emergency c-section is really the only safe option now. On the way to the hospital JK was instructed that under no circumstance should she push at all, no matter what. Otherwise a very high-risk delivery in the ambulance was a distinct possibility.
Had Baby Boy been facing head down there is no way we would have had time to make it to the hospital, CB would later estimate that he would have been born before 5:00am if all had been well. But make it to the hospital we did. Once there I was immediately sent to attend to some administrative details (i.e., they made sure I was out of the way while they sized up the situation). I thought this was pretty lame, and JK was distressed by my absence and protested that the operation not start until I returned. They assured her it would not and when I returned I was sent off to change into hospital scrubs and then met JK and the team in the OR. JK was all ready to go: epidural had been administered; beeping machines had been attached; cloth barrier to block JK's view had been erected; obstetrician Dr. D--who was taking over primary care of JK (CB was to retain care of Baby Boy)--had scalpel in hand; the resident looked eager to observe; nurses looked eager to nurse; an old salty-looking surgeon with white hair and a pirate-style bandana (instead of the standard issue paper hat) stood back looking sleepy; the anesthesiologist scurried around cracking jokes ("JO, you are welcome to stand and watch the whole thing, or sit on this chair. But if you get dizzy at any point and feel like you might faint, just lay on the floor over there, we find that that position gives fathers the least distance to fall if they do faint). The procedure unfolded rather quickly--like clockwork really. Clearly they had done this once or twice before. As the moment arrived to reach in and pluck Baby Boy from the womb I leaned in for a better look. CB explained that this would be the tricky part and that it might look bad because JK was fully dilated, and with Baby Boy in a full breech position he was wedged deep in her pelvis. With vigor, Dr. D tried twice to dislodge him, but he wouldn't budge, and with that the old surgeon elbowed Dr. D out of the way, reached in with his giant hands and with some effort and a grunt brought Baby Boy into the world on the first pull. I was completely astounded by the sight of Baby Boy. While JK couldn't see the delivery she could see my face, so she knew the exact moment when he arrived by the widening of my eyes.
Baby Boy's one minute Apgar score was 9/10 (blue hands and feet kept him from scoring a ten). JK and Baby Boy were only allowed to meet for a few seconds before CB, Baby Boy and I were ushered out of the OR and over to a nursery on the other side of the building. By now Baby Boy's temperature was 36 degrees so they laid him on my chest inside my shirt and piled warm blankets on us--which they obtained from a very slick automatic warm blanket-dispensing machine. This was the hardest part for JK (and Baby Boy and I) because she ended up being separated from us for over an hour. Our spirits improved considerably when we were reunited in the recovery room, and everyone was amazed when Baby Boy nursed within 10 seconds of being presented to JK.
In the days that followed the hospital environment was a bit stressful with constant interruptions and people looking over our shoulders, but the staff were very kind and with it being the 'HM' we had lots of opportunities to practice our official languages. Though most of the staff spoke English, there were many baby-specific and health care-specific Engish and French terms that they/we did not know, so comedy ensued with our attempts to understand each other. We left the hospital after two nights, and life has been much better since we returned home.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Happy Halloween!
Here is the little guy dressed in a "happi" coat. This is a traditional outfit that children in Japan wear to festivals.
Balloons are cool at the best of times, but spider balloons are ultra cool!
Should I draw, or play with this motorcycle? Ummm...I think I'll play with the motorcycle.
My buddy and I were just hanging out, when along came this really cute girl named Little Red Riding Hood.
1 happi coat + 1 parachute = 1 super happy kid!
Halloween night was loads of fun. We ordered pizza, hung out with some friends, handed out candy, went trick or treating, checked out all the pumpkins, saw Scooby...The fun didn't stop (or at least not until 7:30 when it was time to go home and get ready for bed)
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Mmmm Sushishis!
Baby boy loves going out for sushi or "sushishis" as he calls it. He's a big fan of the avocado rolls, edamame, and coconut milkshakes. And, oh yes, as you can see above, he likes going out for Chinese noodle soup too!
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