Meltdowns (maybe I should have a couple)

Okay as you may have gathered, I am back to work. VERY different than when I returned to work after Kamryn. I was so looking forward to returning. When I went back after Kamryn, that first week, whenever anyone asked how it was it was all I could do not to burst into tears having left my baby behind. This time, I was apprehensive about how I was going to handle things (so far it’s not going too badly) but the break is nice. Staying home with two kids under 4 is really hard especially when one of them is particularly demanding.

Yesterday I went back to read the journal entry on the first day we brought Sam home. It made me feel so much better – I’ll reprint part of it here.

So Sam arrived on 6th at around 2 in the afternoon. It was awful day. He cried and cried and cried some more. It was HOT! He was tired having missed his afternoon nap and apparently not eaten much of anything on the drive up (I have no idea why they didn't feed him). The house was filled with confusion and people. If I were a year old I would have melted down to. We gave him and Kamryn a bath together supposedly because he loved baths. He screamed through the whole thing but went down to bed all right. Ugh! His grandmother actually told the social worker as she drove her to the place she was spending the night that she was afraid we'd change our minds because he was crying so much (no real chance of that happening.

I was worrying that maybe we have some how damaged him. He is so happy and funny and enjoyable to be with when he is engaged in an activity that he enjoys but if you interrupt that activity either because it time to do something else (eat, sleep, go somewhere) or the activity is a danger to his life he completely melts down and is uncontrollable. He screams and cries and screams and cries and screams and cries some more. He is inconsolable and you can’t distract him with something else (i.e. If you give him a toy he will throw it at you with all the force he can muster). I kept asking myself if this was a behavior we have taught him. I know it’s just who he is and I know he has always been like this but it’s hard not to question yourself. It was such a relief to see what I wrote that first week we had him. I now understand what I was seeing then a little better. Yes it was the situation but to a large extent it was just HIM. He has gotten better but it’s so hard.

On Sunday, Daniel was working and it was pouring rain out so we drove Daniel to work and then I took the kids to the mall. The mall wasn’t opened yet so I figured we’d just take a little walk. I let Sam out of his stroller. I shouldn’t have. He does so much better with strict boundaries/controls but how’s he ever going to get any exercise if I keep him tied down. He is running and playing with Kamryn. The first store ride they see they are all over. I let them play for awhile as we aren’t really there for any reason but to let them do just that. After awhile, as I see Sam start to spiral into overexcitedness I move them along. They are good until the next set of mall rides. I let them play again. Sam starts to ramp up and he’s getting more and more kinetic. He’s bouncing from one ride to the next, not staying on any one (there were a cluster of 4) for longer than 10 seconds. I was getting tired of helping him up and then helping him down two seconds later. And it was almost like he was approaching an fit of agitation. So we moved on.

We walked for a few metres, I was holding his hand in an attempt to reign him in. He didn’t want to hold my hand and started crying and pulling away. Then he pretended he wanted to hold the stroller (this boy of mine is SMART!) So I let him hold the stroller. He holds the handle for about a second and a half and then he gets this little grin and bolts. Stupid mommy let him do this twice before I put him in the stroller. Total meltdown now. Screaming, crying, yelling at the top of his little lungs “Maman, march” (Mommy, walk) as if I’m torturing him. This is all my fault. Sigh. Had I left him in the stroller to start off with he would likely have remained calm but no I had to let him walk and play. No we’re not making a spectacle of ourselves at all. lol I’m not letting him out of the stroller because I know what he will do. He will bolt again. He doesn’t really learn. So we walk the indomitable length of the mall with him screaming and everyone staring at us. I go down to the parking garage (he’s still screaming). I put him in his car seat (still screaming) and I leave the stroller next to the car and go and sit on a bench in front of the car with Kamryn while he continues to scream. This man comes out of the mall, hears Sam screaming though the closed and locked car. Looks at the stroller, peers though our tinted windows at the screaming child and finally turns around and sees me – I told him he’s mine and I know he is screaming. Man says nothing and just walks away. Sigh. Now I’m really feeling like Bad Mommy #1. It’s what he needs though. I go and have a pointless “conversation” with him as he sobs about behaving and sitting in his stroller (I do it because I just can’t give in but you have to give in because he will simply scream until he falls asleep). I tell him that if he stops screaming he can get back to the mall. He stops – kind of. The whole incident from first scream to last – 40 minutes. In a PUCLIC PLACE (we would have just gone home except Kamryn doesn’t deserve to be punished just because her brother is out of control). Ugh! I put him in his stroller and he is FINE for the remainder of the morning. Shopped, took them to the mall’s indoor park etc. When it was time to leave the park he did so happily and without protest. I don’t get it.

We went out to a friend's for dinner that evening. He was destroying the people’s house (and they have two kids of their own so it’s pretty much child proofed) so I take him and make him sit on my lap – more screaming, kicking, and fighting. It was embarrassing. Thankfully Daniel (who was coming late as he was working) called at that moment and I excused myself to go and pick Daniel up at the bus station. I took the little “tornado” (as our host called him and she was right!) with me because taking him out of the situation was the only way to break the tantrum. He screamed throughout the 5 minute drive to the bus station and then was somewhat out of control for the remainder of the evening but Daniel was their to tag team with me so it was easier. That’s a typical day with Sam.
He does better with Daniel. I’m easier to manipulate maybe? Not to say he doesn’t melt down but his meltdowns have a beginning, a middle, and an end. With me the end never seems to come. He just screams and screams. Sigh. Work gives me a respite and it’s easier to deal with his challenges this way.

Daniel has been working weekends of late and having his “weekend” in the middle of the week (this sucks IMHO as we are never off together but is better for the kids so we persevere). It should be interesting to see if his behavior changes spending time with his father rather than me being around all the time.

Fat Pants SAVE ME!

For the first time in years I NEED to lose twenty pounds rather than I would like to. I literally have nothing to wear. I spent a chunk of change the week before I returned to work to buy some contingency clothes – two and a half (with mixing and matching) outfits to help tied me over until I lose at least ten pounds but that’s it. I refuse to dump all the perfectly good clothes in my closet just because I spent a year as a couch potato. I had such plans of all the funs things I was going to do with Sam while Kamryn was as school. The walks we would take the activities we would do but the kid just exhausts me doing normal stuff and all the extras I had planned just didn’t happen. So we didn’t take long happy strolls to the park as I did with Kamryn and I didn’t exercise. I just couldn’t get motivated. What I did do was eat. I eat when I’m stressed and I eat when I am bored and there was much of that over the last year. I knew I was doing it and I just did. I chowed down. I ordered fast food. I ate like I was condemned and now I am … It’s shocking what clothes won’t fit me. It’s embarrassing. SO on my return to work I have buckled down most literally. I have a supply of Nutrigrain bars, tea, and cup a soup in my office and I’ve returned to my “roots.” It’s how I did it 7 years ago (that and Weight Watchers). It will be how I do it again. I’ve had a bunch of false starts over the past year – I lost about ten pounds last fall for Sam’s baptism and went of the wagon at the baptism and never got back on. Being at work, far from the fridge SHOULD help. Nutrigrain bar for breakfast in the morning. Cup-a-soup and crackers or a small sandwich for lunch (hopefully augmented by a fruit of some sort). Reasonably portioned dinner, cooked in my own kitchen.

I know the first two weeks are the hardest to get through and then it’s easy so I have a week more to go and I’ll be home free. I’ve been helped out a little because for some reason the roof of my mouth is raw (I might have burned it on some lo-cal pizza I had for lunch on Saturday). It’s painful to eat anything solid anyways. It’s kind of a blessing. Yesterday for lunch I had a yogurt smoothie (8 points total which works when you’ve only spent 2-points on breakfast. Don’t frown when not dieting I NEVER eat breakfast so two points is an achievement) because I just could not bear the thought of having to chew anything.

Every evening I stand in my closet frowning at my clothes and panicking about what I can find to squeeze my thighs into in the morning. To make matters worse, one of the outfits I bought (never shop when you are in a hurry and depressed about being fat!) I bought a size too big (yes I DID try them on in the store) and had to bring in to have altered because the first day I wore it I almost went mad with constantly hitching up the pants. So I’m short a pair of fat pants.

Me thinking evil thoughts about COMPLETE strangers

Well you’re all going to get bored with me. Very bored. I’ve lost my beloved Friends by Adoption. Well not really. It’s still there and I’m still allowed to visit just not from work. What a cruel, cruel fate. I have the gift of the gab and that was generally my favorite place to go and gab. I started back to work last week (more on that later) and immediately on getting my internet hooked up I flew to the site (where I hadn’t been in several days due to an evil, evil virus at home – more on that later too). I had wondered about access and I had access. I was a happy hombre (well not really an hombre but you know that). I read a few posts. I posted a little update on myself and then I went to do some real work. When I went back to access the site later “poof” my computer can’t even see it. In my year at home, I have forgotten the annoyance of internet access from “here.” It’s sporadic at best. They block out sites for no obvious rhyme or reason and then poof one day you can access them again. You never know when or why. My fingers are crossed that this “ban” is only temporary.” In the meantime I will just come here and fill this blog with all the nonsensical notions that come to mind. :)

Like this morning – a yucky, wet, cold morning. I was forced to sit crammed on a bus on the way to work behind two twenty something women. Ick! Now I have nothing against twentysomething women in general and these women are probably very nice (not that I will ever know) and really didn’t do ANYTHING to me. What bothered me? They were eating. I sat down, ready to be grumpy. It was raining. I was wet. My pants were wet, my tights were wet my hair was a mess and I have an icky cold – so generally Ms. Grumps. Then I smell something. Something resembling wet wool socks. Not unusual considering the mass of sopping humanity surrounding me. But not it wasn’t one of my unfortunate bus mates it was a bag of Doritos “Scoops” Tortilla chips. This was Twentysomething girl #1’s breakfast I guess and she was going at it heartily. Nibbling each chip as if it were her last and she had to be careful not to finish it too quickly. Licking each of her fingers after each slimy chip. Oh Gawd… YUCK, YUCK, YUCK! It was 7:20 am by the way. Maybe I’m weird but I can’t abide watching anyone eat chips. It disgusts me. At 7:20 in the morning it disgusted me more and she ate the stupid things all 35 minutes we were on the bus together, pretty much. Her seatmate twentysomething girl #2 wasn’t much better but I was only judgmental about her – not sickened. She has a few pounds to lose (as do I so I shouldn’t throw stones) and her breakfast … an M&M chocolate chip cookie. I couldn’t really see her though as I was directly behind her.

I privately snickered to myself about their breakfast choices and telepathically told them that their twentysomething bodies would get old eventually and these breakfast choices wouldn’t serve them well. I guess the good thing about it is they have emboldened my diet efforts. More in my next entry.

Some comments on my comments :)

First, I love comments. :) Makes me feel loved. I love you guys.

Our computer is in our dining room (beautifully furnished as my house is lol) which is open to the living room. Out our front window, when I look over my shoulder from this seat all I see is my neighbour's house. It fills the window. I'm hoping that when the weather warms up I can grab her one day and ask her how it's going without being too pushy. Give her an open door that she can come through if she wants to. I actually was going to drop her an e-mail, which is the easiest way I know to be unobtrusive but my laptop died a month ago with ALL my e-mail address. I have them saved somewhere else but it will be pain to retrieve them. I guess I have to unlazify myself.

I forget that most people reading my blog aren't Canadians and aren't into "Canadaspeak." We are obsessed here with what language people speak.

Fran·co·phone or fran·co·phone: A French-speaking person, especially in a region where two or more languages are spoken.

An·glo·phone also an·glo·phone: An English-speaking person, especially one in a country where two or more languages are spoken.

We also have:

Allophone: A person whose native language is other than French or English.

Interestingly for allophone, when you look it up in the dictionary it is actually listed (with this specific definition) as a uniquelly "Canadian" word. Daniel regularly claims to be an allophone as he is a french speaking person NOT born in Quebec (the PROPER birthpalce of all french at least according to Quebecers). He complains that they would complain his french isn't french enough.

More musing on my guilt and how lucky our family is.

I talked about that night in the bar when I stared at the TV. That night something HUGE happened. I guess ALL my neighbours got taught a lesson. We are all sitting there crammed into the booth. When the chat turned to the convenience of pregnancy one of my neighbours (oddly she lives next to the neighbour I wrote about last time) exchanged a funny look with me. A kind of “the are such idiots” look. It was quick and fast and confused the living daylights out of me (since no one ever understands really and she looked like she did) for a little while. Mystery was soon revealed though as they turned (like wild hyenas on the hunt)and started peppering her with when her and her husband were going to start having kids. Never, I will NEVER ask anyone when they “plan” to start their family (I was as guilty as the next guy before I met the infertility goddess). She looked down at the table for a few minutes and then she burst into tears and said “R and I can’t have babies.” Everyone shut up.

She went on to reveal later in the conversation that her and her husband were looking into adoption. Over the next few weeks I rendered all the help I could. I told her my door was open if she wanted to chat or needed any help. I recommended books she should read and people she should talk to. I sent her web site addresses. I was like a living breathing information booth. She sent me a few e-mails and we chatted a teensy bit when we saw one another but once they had found and agency and knew what they wanted to do, my mentoring job came to an abrupt end as it was obvious she really didn’t want a mentor. So I backed off. They pretty much disappeared. They have really withdrawn from neighbourhood activities. I know why; same reason I withdrew from babyshowers. We really live in helltown if you’re infertile. When we moved here 6 years ago everyone was relatively newly married (the couple I am speaking of got married a few months after they moved in) and no one had any children. Since then 16 children have been born or adopted (mine) in houses within 6 doors (both sides of the street) of mine. It’s got to be hellish. Kamryn was baby #4 or I’d probably be a complete basket case by now. All street activities are centered around this mass of preschoolers, toddlers and infants. We all sit out on our front lawns and chat as the kids play in the driveways. No wonder that this couple lives in their basement! Really NICE people too (didn’t ya know that only nice people have infertility problems lol). Mom-to-be is a preschool teacher. For YEARS she has been the one giving Mommy advice to everyone because she was the most experienced. Ugh!


So wouldn’t ya know they decided to adopt from Russia. They told me that they didn’t want to wait for domestic adoption. I don’t know because I know we aren’t the typical waiting family but I really think people have the wrong idea of the wait. As I said though I have no idea. They wanted a Caucasian baby as they felt their child would have enough to deal with (they are kind of an interesting couple. Husband is 5’6” and wife is 6’1”, husband is francophone, wife Anglophone) without also being a different race. Or maybe they just said that so I would not think they were prejudiced – little did they know how normal I think their desire was. There is a good reason Sam and Kamryn are biracial and not Caucasian or black; I didn’t want my family to have to deal with the overt challenge that comes with interracial adoption either although I respect those that CAN do it. Anyway they choose Russia.

Right after they told me this I heard Russia was closed although my sources were US sources so I didn’t know the real story for Canadians. It didn’t sound good though. I asked them about it and they gave kind of an incomplete answer that I didn’t push because at this point they had to know more than me. I am a font of information (god I'll talk your ear off) on those subjects I have some knowledge of; I do know when to shut up though. When our social worker came for her last visit for Sam’s adoption (so this February) I mentioned it to her and she winced noticeably. Ugh! It’s been 2 years since that conversation in the bar and no sign of any baby anytime soon.

Their’s is the house I see when I look out my front window. I’m not sure what is going on with them. They were the first neighbours on our doorstep with a coming home present for both Kamryn and Sam. I haven’t seen the wife since last fall maybe. I see R more often because he was out this winter snow blowing the driveway and when I was working (and soon will be again) I used to bump into him at the bus stop. I don’t want to ask (if I ever actually saw them!) because I know answering can be very hard when nothing is happening. Still I really would like to offer support. They had talked about maybe having a baby home for last Christmas. I feel bad once again. Not the fairest world we live in.

From the Sublime to the Utterly ridiculous

I mentioned the shoes in my last entry... Well yesterday we got a package in the mail from Striderite.



They have GOT to be kidding. I totally cracked up. It is rather wasteful though. What in tarnation are we supposed to do with all these stupid flowers. We have 17! I called my friend (party host) and told her she could keep the one she found as a gift from us or we'd have 18!

Our Striderite Saga

Kamryn has these shoes:



Note the attractive flower buckle. It is in reality not a buckle but simply there as an ornament. The strap is fastened using velcro. The flower simply slips over the strap and the velcro in theory holds it in place.

This would work wonderfully if I was parenting an angelic and sedate little princess. What I have instead is a cross between Denise the Menace and the Tasmanian Devil (wouldn't change her ... most days lol). The velcro strap keeps the shoes on but often does not stay in place well enough to keep the flower on and said flower has dropped off a couple of times. I'm generally around to find it quickly.

Last Saturday we were at a party (adult party; where we foolishly brought the kids with permission of the host and EVERY intention of leaving before 9 which we did). Kamryn had a ball. There was a little girl there just a bit older than her and the two got on like gang busters and spent the two hours or so we were there playing hide and seek and tag and all sorts of other preschool games. The party was at a large house and Kamryn fell on some ice in the dark when we were leaving (these facts will readily become relevant). When we got home she was short exactly one flower. Sigh.

I figured it was toast. The computer was on (when is it not) so I e-mailed Striderite for help. I explained the situation and asked about purchasing (ha! As if I was really going to do that? Couldn't be presumptuous though) a pair of the flowers. While we waited, I called our host and mentioned the lost flower and we drove by her home and scouted outside JUST in case the flower had fallen off during Kamryn's tumble. No joy.

Promptly on Monday morning Striderite answered my e-mail, volunteering (as I had expected and would have been put out had they not) to send me a complimentary set. I was pleased with the customer service and told them as much. :) Then I told them I lived in Canada. Tears all around (not really). Bottom line was though they couldn't ship to Canada. Not a huge problem I thought I know enough people with addresses in the U.S. to impose upon but they offered and easier solution - a Canadian customer service toll free number. So I called. They were equally as helpful (if a little more confused - it was an ODD conversation to say the least; I think I knew the product better than they did) and offered to send me a pair of the flowers which they implied were just sitting in a bin right next to their phone waiting for just such a call as mine. I gave them my name and address and took the helpful customer service representative's name. Okay that was Tuesday. Wednesday we went out shopping for new shoes for Sam. While we were at the store which happened to be the same store in which I purchased Kamryn's shoes I asked non-chalantly about replacement flowers. They had some, did I want them. Ummmm.... sure. So we got flowers. I happily put them on her shoes when I got home. So now I have new flowers, flowers in the mail and one spare old flower. Hey April showers ... Today the host of last week's party calls. Guess what? She found the flower. So now we have SIX little metal flowers. Nuts.

As an interesting aside, I must take a picture of the shoes we bought for Sam in comparison to the shoes he had been wearing uncomplainingly. Lordy!





In our defence, these weren't shoes he wore often as they were his "Sunday-go-to-meeting" shoes and he doesn't go anywhere most Sundays AND the new ones are intentionally a little to big to give him room to grow. Still, I felt a little bad. He didn't complain even once - honest!

Embarassed By How Easy "Having" Kids Was

You know as much as we struggled to build our family I never thought I would feel guilty about what we have. Well not guilty per se but you will see what I mean. Two weeks ago my across the street neighbour gave birth to a little girl, who they named Carissa, at 26 weeks. She weighed barely a pound and only lived long enough for them to say their good byes. Obviously they are devastated. They have an older boy who is 7 weeks older than Kamryn.

When he was about a year old they started trying for #2. They were annoyingly cavalier about it. I wanted to just yell at her on more than one occasion. I remember sitting in a neighbourhood bar one evening watching television and trying to ignore the conversation while all the neighbourhood ladies chatted (I stared hard at the TV because it was the ONLY way not to cry). She used to say things like “well, if I don’t get pregnant this month it will be a pain because if a baby were to be born in such and such a month yadda yadda yadda...” Okay I understand they joy of being able to plan a pregnancy but I don’t want to hear about how a baby would be inconvenient. “Just be damn happy you can get pregnant at all” is what I was thinking as I quietly seethed. Well she got pregnant at a convenient time for her, announced her pregnancy before the pee dried on the stick and miscarried at around 11 weeks or so. I felt bad for her but part of me was thinking of that evening and her pontifications about “convenience” (okay so this is partially the source of my guilt; while I in no way think anyone DESERVES to go through a miscarriage, at the time, it did cross my mind that she had been taught a harsh lesson).

It wasn’t convenient for them to try again for a while – I know all the reasons because she elaborated them in great detail with pregnancy #2. A while later, she got pregnant again. No fanfare or announcements this time. She quietly commented to me that she was pregnant. Both her, and my next-door neighbour were pregnant together. She miscarried before she started to show. :( Every time I look at my next-door neighbour’s little girl I imagine the painful memories she must engender for across the street neighbour. What was and what will never be.

So it’s cold here and after Halloween we generally don’t see much of the neighbours. You wave as you dart in and out of cars, you chat briefly while shoveling the driveway, but long deep conversations are few and far between. We never got around to having our annual New Year’s Eve Street party this year either. A couple of times I looked at my neighbour and thought she looked like she was putting on some weight. I wondered but said nothing because good grief I’d hate to be wrong! In February my next-door neighbour had a birthday party for her son and for the first time, to me, it was obvious – no heavy coats to peer through and well she was in her second trimester heading into her third. We chatted a little. She was so cautious about her “little one”. So different than before. There was no confidence and that was very sad (no pleasing me I guess). But she was sooooooo far along. I didn’t think twice about the risks and I really should know better. My thoughts were about what to buy her baby when they brought her home; that and trying to guesstimate her due date based on the size of her belly because I didn’t want to ask outright. Her belly really was the elephant in the room. Nothing like a normal pregnant lady - averted eyes and let’s chat about anything but the pregnancy. It was a little bizarre. I’ll also admit that I was a little jealous but that part of me isn’t so ravenous anymore. We’re content with our family.

Her early delivery was unexpected. They’d had an amniocentesis at 20 weeks and it was COMPLETELY normal. The baby was measuring a little small but it wasn’t a huge concern. It should have been although there isn’t anything anyone could have done. Her autopsy showed that she was small because a “venous cord insertion” was starving her of nutrients. She was perfect. :( No one could have fixed it and nothing could have been done. It was a freak occurrence. That doesn’t make it easier to deal with.

So here we are. When Paul, her son, was born we had no idea that Kamryn would ever exist. I didn’t go to her baby shower, just sent a present and made an excuse, because I couldn’t handle it. When he came home I remember visiting and being so jealous – completely oblivious to what the future held for us. He was a month old when we began to even hope we would get matched with Kamryn’s birthmother. Kamryn and Paul are good buddies. They are so close in age and play well together. It occurs to me that they must have been trying to get pregnant when we brought Sam home last summer. With the weather warming up now and the kids outside once again playing, I found myself standing in the driveway last week, with my neighbour, as Paul, Kamryn and Sam tore around – being kids and I felt bad that their weren’t four or five kids there. Embarrassed for my two and how “easy” it was for us. Then I smack myself in the head and ask whom am I kidding and then I go back to realizing how easy it was for us. Sigh.

Well... No More Babies

Today we hit a milestone that I'm a little sad about because it is really driving home that Sam isn't a baby anymore. Duh! You might say as I often do (internally) when I hear people bemoan that their 3-year-old has abandonned the last vestiges of babyhood. Now that I'm here I understand a little more what those Moms were saying/feeling. He's our last and we had so little of his babyhood as it was. Only now that I see it fading (and fast!) am I understanding how much we missed. He was walking within weeks of coming home so not a lot of infant left in him even then.

Anyway, back to milestones. Today we took the kids to the indoor play yard at the local mall. They LOVE to go there and we are there once or twice a week, sometimes more. There is a special toddler area where I always encourage Sam to stay in. He doesn't. He wants to follow his big sis around. The kid area has a sizeable play structure and two slides. Access is gained via a slippery ramp at one end or some giant steps (3 feet or so in height) at the other. I maintained that while I wouldn't help him up at either end, once he could negotiate the entrances on his own he was free to climb on up. Until today, he couldn't and would spend his time running happily on the floor level. Today he made it up the ramp. Slow and steady and with lots of glances at me as he negotiated the slippery rise. That was the first time up. By the second he was just flying. He had a great time and it wasn't as impossible to get him down when we wanted to leave as I'd anticipated (parents aren't allowed to climb on the structure so if Johnny won't come when called you are S.O.L.)

As I watched him run about happily and so VERY proud of himself it hit hard that there is very little baby left in my baby. I'm pretty proud of him though and I still got to carry my exhausted little one up to his crib when we got home as he passed out the moment the car started moving in a forward direction. For now, I'll hold on to that.

Who has abducted the boy I know and love.

I had the oddest of mornings with my little man. I know I have complained here about our music class. I HATE going. Sam is always out of control. He melts down about 80 times a class. We often have to leave and stand in the hall and ALL the other kids always seemed so well behaved. It’s exhausting. It’s embarrassing and it’s somewhat worrisome. He just doesn’t seem normal when we’re at that class. I think he IS normal, just spirited, but it’s hard to believe after that class. This morning I was particularly dreading going.

Let me drift back in time a little. Yesterday, Kamryn had a play date with Jordan, her best buddy. We dropped her off at 10 am and Daniel, Sam and I went to the mall to just hang out and be out of the house. At around 11 we stopped for coffee. Sam sipped some milk and munched on one breadstick. We left to pick Kamryn up for 1 pm. Sam crashed in the car – not having had any lunch. I figured either he would wake up when we got home and I would feed him then or he would sleep through until around 2 ish and then wake starving. He was soundly asleep when we got home so I put him down. He didn’t wake up until after 4! (we had been out extra late with him the night before so he was tired) I figured he had to be hungry so I immediately served him his dinner (don’t normally eat until around 6). I cut up some roast chicken for him and offered nothing else since I anticipated a battle. I wasn’t wrong. He wanted nothing to do with the roast chicken and asked to be let down. So I did. He didn’t ask for anything else. At 6 when I was serving everyone else I again offered the roast chicken along with some broccoli because that is what everyone else was having (we had hot chicken sandwiches). Had he eaten one piece of chicken (just one!) I would have given him a slice of bread as well. Never got that far. He ate the broccoli and then told me he was done. He refused to touch the chicken (it wasn’t breaded and fried so likely poisonous in his estimation I’m sure) and again did not ask for ANYTHING else. Put him down.

He went to bed on time and, unusual for him when he hasn’t eaten dinner, didn’t ask for milk. This morning I figured he would be ravenous. Made him his cereal and apple sauce for breakfast (staple breakie) and left Daniel to feed him while I went to get dressed. We were all really late. Daniel calls up to me after a bit – I have good news and bad news he says. Okay, what’s the good news. The good news is Sam ate all his cereal. The bad news… he then proceeded to throw it all up. Ugh! Bring him upstairs, take his temperature – normal. The whole time he is asking to eat. Now Sam is a gagger. He does it on purpose when he doesn’t like something OR wants something else. It’s annoying. However, there was no reason for him to have done it this morning. Daniel speculated that maybe he fed him too fast (we were late as I mentioned). He wasn’t acting sick and he didn’t have a temperature so we continued on with our plans for today (i.e. music class). We didn’t put anything else into his tummy because we wanted to be certain he wasn’t actually ill. I did pack some snacks and milk with me as I left the house though. Nevertheless, a hungry Sam is normally an IMPOSSIBLE Sam thus my reluctance to go to class. I was prepared for him to be horrid.

We got to the class and one of the mothers had brought her 4-year old along. They were hanging up their coats as we got there and Sam who is going through a stranger anxiety phase was stopped in his tracks. He wouldn’t even come into the class and just hung on my leg. Very odd. I picked him up and we went and sat down. He sat in my lap, quietly. That NEVER happens normally I spend half the class holding him down. He normally runs in mad “please chase me circles” around the class whenever I let him up. He got up once or twice but never went far and always came right back to me. He sat in the “story circle” on his own and calmly listened to the story. He passed instruments, when that was what we supposed to be doing, calmly. He didn’t melt down even once. All these things seem pretty typical but NEVER have they EVER happened. It’s with good reason I hate this class. Sam is normally the topic of discussion at the end of class. I always get “I don’t know how you do it;” “doesn’t he tire you out;” “I bet he will nap well.” Today everyone including me was stunned by his behavior. He asked me for milk once only and I told him he could have some after class and he was fine with that.

After class, I gave him his milk and he drank all of it, and then was content. He has been pretty calm since then with only one minor meltdown (after sitting for 15 minutes strapped in his car seat waiting for Kamryn to get out of preschool, so pretty good reason). So I’m stunned. I don’t think in the 9, 10 months we have had him home he has EVER been so calm and … “normal.” I was thinking this morning as I took him to sit on my lap at the computer because I WANTED to cuddle with him rather than I needed to contain him (normal reason) that this is how it’s supposed to be. I also find myself wondering if there is something in his diet that is affecting his behavior. If anything, he is one purged boy this morning. I don’t think he is sick (okay I wrote this several hours ago; I know he isn’t sick). Perhaps it was hunger – although for someone who had eaten NOTHING, he wasn’t acting particularly hungry.

So now I’m puzzled. The two of us went to war over lunch. I wanted him to eat roast chicken. He wanted to scream. Eventually we both bent a little – he ate the roast chicken and I gave him a bite of bread for every bite of chicken. Boy is he stubborn! In the end he was eating the chicken on his own without even being prompted (evidence I’m guessing that there wasn’t anything wrong with the chicken in the first place; he just HATES to lose.) He is calmly and happily watching Finding Nemo right now. I’m still not sure where the Sam we are all so accustomed to is.

Along with Religion...

I also found a crib tent available at an Ottawa store that I didn't have to sell a kidney to buy. ;) So, no, while I appreciated the suggestion made after my Duct tape entry, bungee cords will not be necessary although they may have been cheaper.

Sam loves it. Okay maybe not. He keeps pointing at the sides and saying "oh-oh." I'm not sure what he means by that. He says "oh-oh" a lot though and it's too stinking cute to hear it! Most importantly though he can't climb out AND can no longer hold on to the sides of the crib and jump up and down until he smacks his lip on the bar and cries (something he seemed to do far too often for it to be good for his mouth, teeth, jaw, head etc.)

Photos, of my "caged" son.





I think our social worker would approve.

I've Found Religion

You guys are good to me. Thanks for all your kind comments regarding my friend. One of the things I dislike about blogging is the inability to respond easily (or at all in some cases) to comments made on my entries. At my previous journaling site it was easy to reply when people sent comments. Not so here. I do appreciate all the comments I get though and thank you so much for leaving them. I have to get more in the habit of just responding in my entries. It's sometimes hard to write when it seems no one is reading (and the only way to know people are reading is if they comment). I guess I walk a weird tightrope between writing for my own personal joy and wanting others to share in and comment on my life. I definitely want others to share though or all my entries would still be on my hard drive. lol


One of the big differences between the my girlfriend and I (and a really surprising one for us to work around; was I a doormat?) was that she was a staunch atheist and not always terribly respectful of my belief in God and commitment to my religion. This week, hard as it has been, has had me seeing God everywhere. I'm not the kind of person who does, so this is interesting to me. Yes I believe in a higher power but I'm not really sure sometimes how a beneficent God affects yours truly. This might be shallow but I believe because I've always believed. I'm not a strong enough person not to. I need there to be a God. I need there to be something else. I think this week I have seen proof that there is someone watching out for me.

Pre-Kamryn, I had stopped going to Church. I wasn't mad at God. I thought he was mad at me. I went to Church when I had to and avoided it when I could. I couldn't handle it. I would stand there and I would say the prayers and hear the words coming forth from my mouth and wonder why God was punishing me this way. What I had done that would deny me ever having a family. It was just to hard to be there and I kept breaking down in the middle of the penitential rite and other similar parts of the mass and having to leave and go to the bathroom to cry. So I stopped going. Talk about Catholic guilt although my rationale mind and what I have been taught is that God wasn't punishing me it's just the way it is. Still, when you're grieving it's easier to be irrational. We did by the way return to Church post-Kamryn and have gone quite regularly ever since. We've been a bit absent lately but that's only because Dominic can be a big handful at Church.

Anyway, back to this week. Tuesday, when I was feeling bad, I went to Kamryn's dance class and sat and laughed and joked with Kamryn's friend's parents. Like was always do - we joked back and forth throughout their class. On Sunday we are going to see Disney on Ice with them. After ballet, Kamryn's friend's Mom says "ummm... care to join us for dinner after the show?" A simple and logical invitation but one I needed right then. Later that night I went to my band practice and one of my friends there also suggested we get together this week to practice - also a pretty normal and logical invitation - just not one she had ever suggested before and an invitation I needed right then. Today I logged on and along with all the kind messages from my online friends was an e-mail from someone I haven't heard from in almost 20 years. We were friends from summer camp in junior high/high school and then worked one summer together in 1989! She found my e-mail address and sought me out. Wants to know if we can stay in touch and perhaps get together for dinner next time she is in town and no, it doesn't seem like she wants to sell me insurance. lol

I could chalk this all up to coincidence or even seeing stuff where I otherwise wouldn't. There is a certain comfort in thinking that perhaps someone ''else" is helping me see these things. Someone ''else'' is allowing me to find comfort. No matter what I feel comforted and kind of warm and squishy inside.

The end of a friendship

So I've had the biggest fight I've ever had with a real life friend. It's sad the friendship is irreconcilable over. I now go back and forth between wishing I'd never even met her, wondering why I wasted ten years of my life on her and total confusion over why she was ever friends with me in the first place. The latter is something I had often wondered anyhow so maybe it's for the best.

Really, she's a capable, smart, funny and popular woman as am I (except for the popular part; I'll be honest, as I've been before, I'm far from popular). Nevertheless, while I have a Master's Degree she didn't finish university. I work full-time and until recently she was a full-time stay and home Mom. Now she works part-time at a job that I would never even consider. She is a penny pincher because she has to be and, while practical, except for big purchases I buy what I want and am rarely more than moderately concerned with what it costs. I like to know what is going on the world; I don't think she has ever read a newspaper or watched a newsbroadcast. She's down-to-earth while I'm a little prissy. We did like the same type of movies ... I think. She was my friend though and I liked her. She was my best friend. I wasn't hers and I knew that but I was happy with the friendship.

She was my Maid of Honour and I was a bridesmaid at her wedding. I gave her a baby shower for her first child in the middle of infertility HELL (a week after a lap even). She was the first person I called when I Kamryn was born (I couldn't get a hold of Daniel because his cell phone was off!). We'd been friends for over ten years and I appreciated her friendship so much because she stuck with me and was supportive during all our infertility struggles. I watched her pop out three kids with little effort at getting pregnant but she did so with a compassion for what we were going though that touched me.

It was all my fault to. Technically (it was 100% her decision to end the friendship; although at this point I wouldn't want it any other way, I'm just sitting here stunned). I made a stupid comment months ago and hurt her feelings and she decided our friendship wasn't worth salvaging. Her decision really makes me angry because in my estimation it says more about her than me. She's overweight by a lot, maybe by as much 200 lbs? I've tried to be so supportive over the years but I slipped up and said something stupid and for that I was condemned. I can't understand her throwing away a very close friendship over that. On the other hand it's a weight issue thing and well, I know that can be a deep wound to the self esteem. But come on .... ten years! I would have done anything for her.

So after months of minimal contact with someone I used to speak to either physically or through e-mail daily (this all corresponded with her starting her new job and I wondered if she were just overwhelmed at first) I confronted her and all this vitriol came out. Basically she said I was evil and insecure and that I exploited peoples foibles to make myself feel better. I believed her - stupid me. I really was devastated at first. I cried for two days. I couldn't eat. Then I went out with some other friends and had FUN! I sat and laughed with them and had a good time and thought, "hey, these people seem to like me and interact with me normally. They don't think I'm mean and cruel." I thought about what she had said (looking for examples in how I was mean she went back all ten years) and I thought "what the F" (okay I can't swear in my blog lol; told you prissy). There isn't ANYTHING wrong with me. I'm a good person who made a one stupid comment - okay she said she was thinking of starting a "birthday fairy" or maybe a "birthday fairy godmother" business and I told her that WE (I included myself here) were more "godmother" like than "fairy" like. Really, we're both over 30, over 5'9" and fat; nothing fairy like about us (I didn't say this but this is the reality). Okay don't talk to me for a few weeks and make me apologize (I did!) but trash a ten year friendship. So then I entered the angry phase (prior to this all I did was apologize and cry) I guess... I sat down and told her exactly how I felt. I told her that I had been a good friend to her and her devaluation of everthing that had transpired between us over ten years was ... how do I put this succintly... reprehensible. That made me feel better, MUCH BETTER. I'm not perfect but I'm a very good person and a very good friend.

Still I feel sad that her family, which I considered part of my family, is gone. Exorcised for stupid reasons. I'm, nevertheless, glad they live so far away that I'll never run into them in the supermarket or something like that. I don't want to experience the awkwardness and the pain that would follow. My job this afternoon is to go around the house and take down all their pictures because I still tear up when I see them.

It's been a sad week around here - for me anyways. I've never "broken-up" with someone in anger. Not even boyfriends. There were always tears and regrets on both ends and an acknowledgement that we just weren't right. I've generally stayed friendly with my exes even for a time and then generally life drifts you apart. I've never fought with a real friend. I guess to make it to 37 and never have had a knock down drag 'em out (although a few angry e-mails is hardly a knock down but still ...) is pretty good; I hope. I don't want to do it again.

I've added a list of "Buddy Blogs" to this Blog

Please know you are still my "buddy" if I haven't listed your blog. I was about to add everyone and their best friend's blog addresses but then I thought perhaps people might not want me plastering their blog addresses everywhere. If you would like me to include you (and I would be honoured) drop me a line and I'll "put you up." :)

I did an evil thing today.

A few weeks ago I posted about the insensitive comments made at Kamryn's gymnastics class by a clueless Mom. Well, today I was sitting with Kamryn's friends Mom on one side of me and the comment lady on the other. Comment Mom's normal conversation partner had to leave early with her son so she was chatless. I was chatting with the other Mom when she asked about our fertility "attempts" (not pryingly considering we have a burgeoning friendship of our own). I must admit that I used her. I had a very frank and loud discussion with her about the misery of infertility. I wasn't REALLY talking to her. I THINK I made my point. ;)

Is is considered abuse to duck tape your toddler to his crib bars?

I'm thinking our social worker wouldn't approve.

Ugggh! Master Sam has decided he should no longer be confined to his crib. This is a MAJOR problem because NOTHING short of global thermo nuclear war could convince me to put him in a bed. As I told my mother we'd literally have to empty his room of furniture. I would never sleep again and he would hurt himself almost assuredly. I'm a laid back Mom believe it or not, by the time Kamryn was Sam's age all our baby gates were down. We have never even gated our stairs BUT Sam is a different child and well he needs to be confined or watched. He's fast and he's bright but he has the common sense of well... a 21 month old.

So I'm on a hunt for a crib tent. Easier said than done. Have to wait until Monday so I can call a US company that I found online to see if they will ship to Canada. The ONLY Canadian company that I can find that carries crib tents wants $100 US + shipping – crooks! I lost a bidding war on E-bay for one by like 10 seconds tonight ($71 US). That might have been a good thing since the company I need to call is advertising $65. But that’s only if they will ship to me (their web site says to call for info on shipping outside the lower 48). This is insane.I guess we could just duck tape him nightly.

Surprise. Hope you had no plans for the weekend!

So on Wednesday the hospital calls for some pre-op information from me. She finishes the call by saying so you’re lap is scheduled for Friday. And I respond, “no, it’s scheduled for March 10th”. “No,” she says, “it’s down for Friday, didn’t your doctor tell you?” ummmm…..NO!

Sigh. So I call Daniel and it turns out he can’t even get Friday off work – so I’m pissed at him – oh I was mad at him. Work basically walks all over him and he lets them. He doesn’t even have a full time position with them – nor will he ever get one! They really abuse him. I'd actually still be mad at him but he had this little "oh woe is me, everyone is mad at me, pout" on Thurday evening that was so pathetic it would have melted icebergs. Anyway, so Daniel can’t get Friday off work. I work things out with my parents to take the kids. I have to rush down the next day for all my pre-op bloodwork etc.

My surgery is scheduled for 1:40 in the afternoon. No food or drink from 11:00 the night before. ‘k I’m fine with that. My father drops me off and I just kind of sit around and wait being basically ignored. Seems the Day surgery unit was really busy (lots of people sitting around complaining about how delayed their surgery times are.) I’m parked in the corner and honestly no one was paying me any attention. I was almost positive at any moment someone would come and ask me my name and tell me that I wasn’t supposed to be there until March 10th. Oddly though, my surgery was on time. The anesthesiologist (who was an awesome guy!) visited and my doctor visited and chatted with me but I had no questions so they were short conversations. The nurses who were basically ignoring me never even TRIED to start an IV so suddenly they were calling me for surgery and everyone was wondering where my IV was. In the end that wasn’t so bad since when the anesthesiologist (that’s a hard word to spell) tried in the OR he couldn’t find a vein – anywhere! Well he did find a good one in my neck but joked that generally women preferred he stayed away from their necks as it leaves an awful green bruise. So they had to put me out with gas and then put the IV in (veins rise to the surface when we sleep apparently). The other amusing/odd thing was that the pulsox monitor wouldn’t work. I have Raynaud’s Syndrome (the capilliaries in my hands and feet spasm cutting off the circulation when I’m cold or stressed) and they did a good job of keeping me freezing so no wonder. The anesthesiologist kept teasing me about being difficult and that he would just have to hold my hand (I think that was his way of discretely checking my pulse without freaking me out lol).

So it turns out I am a hypochondriac. No real explanation for the pain I keep experiencing on my right side. She did fine a miniscule amount of endo but on my LEFT side. She lazered that. On the right side all she found was fluid (don’t know why that was there) which she drained but that’s it. So kind of a waste of time for all of us. She really wants me to go on the Pill which I really don’t want to do and I’m sure her little pregnant self doesn’t understand. It’s not that I’m waiting on the miracle pregnancy (another kid would actually cause some problems for us) I just don’t want to have to take the stupid pill! Ah well. I might have to. She commented that the pain my just “go away” after having had the gas in my abdomen. I find that a little unlikely though. We’ll see and hope.

After 4 days I’m pretty much healthy and back to normal. Daniel took over the kids from Friday night on. It’s the first time he’s really done what I do everyday (take care of the two of them full time, no help). He’s done well but it’s hard and I know that now he knows how hard it is.

Okay, it’s WAY past noon and I haven’t got up yet. Daniel took the kids to the playground at the mall. If he comes home and finds me still in bed he’s going to grumble. Must get up and pretend to have been up and about for hours. lol

Sam is sick

Not going to the hospital sick. Not even sure he is need a doctor sick. He is just having a rougher time with the cold that both Kamryn and I have already weathered. His seems to have moved to his chest and today he's running a slight temp. I think I will call the Doctor tomorrow just to have her check and make sure his ears are clear.

I mention this only because he's also really pleasant as a sick kid. He's not acting particularly sick ('cept he's not sleeping well). He's just a little more subdued than normal and it's so nice to have him this way. He's not bouncing off the walls in his normal superball on speed manner. He's cuddly in a "not changing my mind and wanting to get up and down every three seconds" way.

Don't know how long this will last; might be over by dinner but is it bad to like your kid more when he's sick than when he's healthy? That sounds awful. It's just he's slowed down enough for us to enjoy him properly and completely rather than in dribs and drabs.

I'm also doing the mother cub thing a bit I think. Fawning over him and cuddling more because I know he's not feeling well. I'm probably more enjoyable to him right now too. Probably a two-way street here. Poor guy really sounds awful.

Okay enough musings for me. I better go finish cooking dinner.

I am a bad mother ...

My three and a half year old knows the words to "I Want to Be a Rockstar." She was singing

"the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap"

the other day. Much to Daniel's chagrin. As we were leaving the concert the other night Daniel was relaying the story of our daughter knowing the lyrics to a couple we were squished beside. The other guy countered with the story of his friend's 12-year old singing the Barbie song. Daniel looked at him blank faced and said, "our daughter is three" and the guy cracked up.

I guess I should find some good Christian music to play in the car. lol Maybe I should go back to Carmen Campagne (french kid's performer). Nickelback is so much more me though. I had gotten REALLY tired of the Monkeys, another Maya favorite.

I'm going to change the address of this blog.

It has been bothering me for some time that I typed "hypen" instead of "hyphen" when I created this blog. It's a typo born out of haste and impulsivity rather than a spelling mistake and I really need to fix it or go mad.

I'll do it soon but I needed a way to warn people so they can still find me - as riveting as my writing is I'm afraid I'm going to lose people. :(

There is some meaning behind "hyphen haven" but you'd have to "know" me offline to understand. It has to do with the total ridiculousness of my name. Through no fault of my own (well some fault as I screwed up my last name completely on my own with no help from anyone) I have ended up with an extremely long name with hyphens in BOTH my first and last names.

First name well that was my parents fault. My last name... well I can blame them too. I need to blame them for something. When I was getting married I really wanted to be "Mrs. T." but I also didn't want to give up my place at the front of the alphabet. Having a last name that begins with A is so very convenient. So not wanting people to think I'm crazy and make fun of me behind my back I figured I would simply change my name. I would elminate the hypen from my first name and just squish the two names together (they would have squished together just fine) and I would hypenate my last name giving me the freedom to use both or either of my last "names" as I liked. My parents freaked when I told them my plans for my first name. "We chose your name very carefully, we protected it all these years" yada yada yada. Okay so trying to please everyone I left all the hypens where they were. Now I have a double barrelled first and last name and well ... people think I'm nuts. They do not though as I fear talk behind my back about it. They are quite up front with their opinions and regularly laugh in my face - total strangers even! Sometimes I explain. Sometimes I just smile. When I introduce myself I tend to dump the latter part of both names - eventually they find out me "real" name but it makes introductions less cumbersome.

Anyway that's how/why I picked the url for this blog. Kind of ironic considering I have changed all names in this blog to protect the innocent (whoever they may be). I am, by the way, reconsidering that decision as I seem to be very bad at sticking to that plan.

Kid-Free Night

Daniel and I had a kid-free night last night. Dropped the kids off at my parents yesterday afternoon and went to see Nickelback play their last night of their Canadian tour.

Nickelback was awesome! Had a great time. We had general admission tickets because that was all I could get (that was all I thought was available). But that is what you get when you buy tickets less than a month before the concert. I suspect when tickets were first released we could have gotten ticketed seats. Anyways we arrived in time for the 1st opening act (there were two Deco Jones (pass) and Live (awesome!)) and as we walked down to the floor I said to Daniel let’s just sit in some seats and if no one claims them they are ours. So we sat down, about ten rows up from the floor in seats I suspect went for more than a hundred dollars a pop. People kept walking in front of us to get to the aisle so we moved up a row. After the opening act, someone came and claimed the seats we were in so we moved down a couple of rows to better seats. After a bit, a single guy came and claimed our two seats so we moved over two seats and there we stayed for the whole concert. Excellent seats – and it was a packed house so we really lucked out. Poor guy next to us sat by himself. He had obviously been stood up and I felt so bad for him. He kept checking his cell phone.

Okay people brought kids to this concert! Little kids (there was a 6 year old sitting in front of me). I’m sure the parents with their progeny appreciated the woman on the floor sitting her boyfriend’s shoulders who pulled down her tank top and massaged her breasts through one entire song – her image projected on the screen behind the band. Ottawa is a pretty tame place and it was a pretty tame crowd (the “mosh pit” was at most people jostling a little to be at the front of the crowd). Nevertheless, I don’t understand – Floor seats were $60 – that would pay for a babysitter people!

Anyway, my ears still hurt. I was wearing earplugs but I foolishly (consciously but still foolishly) pulled them out whenever they played a song I really liked which was pretty often. It was loud. I was kinda sad when it ended that they didn’t play what has become one of my favorite songs, “I Wanna be a Rockstar” but understood they couldn’t play everything. Then they came back and played it as the first song in their Encore so I left completely satisfied and babbling to my very understanding husband who is NOT a Nickelback fan. He has taken to calling me “his wife the metalhead.”

It was nice to have a night to ourselves. Daniel and I hit a new restaurant on the way home and had some munchies. Restaurant was unimpressive but it was good to have the adult time. Then home exhausted to bed, long day. I woke up at 9:45 this morning. Felt awesome to sleep in. Didn’t make it out of bed until almost 12:00! For all you people with dirty minds we, mostly, ;) watched the Olympics on TV. Feeling really well rested, after a nice breakfast, we collected our happy and tired children from my parents. They both fell asleep in the car on the way home and are napping now. I think the entire family had a banner weekend even though we were apart. I used to dread being separated from Kamryn but in retrospect, a short (can’t handle more than 24 hours yet) break now and again is probably good for the whole family.

Infertility Central

So I took Kamryn to gymnastics this morning. It seems that gymnastics it infertility central. Last week, one of the Moms (a Mom of triplets +1) and one of the Dads were talking about the fertility clinic we all used and how it had moved etc. etc. etc. Today the subject of infertility came up again – different Moms. Clueless Moms. They weren’t talking to me but I would have said something had I been sitting closer to them (I was at the other end of a long table and couldn’t have spoken to them discreetly). I could nevertheless hear their conversation clearly and had been chatting back and forth with them about other things. They were talking about an acquaintance of theirs who had endometriosis and “everytime they save enough money they just go for another insemination. What she should be thinking about is all the advantages to not having children. All the freedom you get. All the extra money you have. I love my daughter dearly but … blah blah blah blah blah”

Okay, part of me was appalled and part of me understood completely the absolutely clueless place they were coming from. Don’t they understand the exclusive club they are part of and how hard it is to get in for some of us. It’s a whole OTHER world that you aren’t allowed entry to without the late nights and early mornings; without the oodles of money spent on gymnastics lessons and hockey equipment; without the hours spent looking for batman masks for your son’s fourth birthday party or the silk blouse that you had to throw out because your daughter spilled grape juice down the back. Being the “special aunt” doesn’t cut it. It’s a whole world that you aren’t privy too and it’s a world you’ve been promised from the time you were in diapers. From the outside, it looks like paradise and nothing else measures up. Yes, there are people out their that would prefer to spend their money, time, lives… on other things but for infertile parent want-to-bes it’s torturous.

It is impossible to articulate how much my world has changed since I picked Kamryn up that first time. It’s a challenging life, parenting, but I can’t imagine doing anything else. I don’t know what my life would be like without Kamryn and Sam. I can’t imagine wanting to be here anymore, if forced to stay on the outside looking in.

Maybe it’s good that I was too far away to talk to these women. One, they probably would have thought I was a freak. Two, I don’t think I’m articulating things very well and sitting here in front of the computer I actually have time to think about what to say and I’m STILL having problems. Ah well. Even though or maybe because I know their attitudes are so common, I’m a little sad at how little the average fertile women understands.

Pregnant Doctors and Birthmother worries

It’s the very definition of blustery out. It was 2 C when we got up this morning supposedly (was supposed to be 8!) and now, at 2 pm, well it’s about –12 and falling. The wind is blowing… hard! It was pushing out truck around on the highway like it was a tinker toy. Brrrrr… We had to go out too because today was the day “my friends” come over. Kamryn calls the maids we have who come to clean every two weeks my friends. Lol Friends who come and clean your home from top to bottom are the best type of friends to have.

Started my morning with a visit to the gynecologist. My pregnant gynecologist. Ugh! I was sitting in the waiting room of the clinic (it’s a multi-disciplinary clinic) and congratulating myself for not having to sit in a waiting room full of pregnant women and then my doctor walks into the examination room with a basketball under her shirt. Sigh. Can’t win. She is due next month and looks fabulous of course. Tall and thin with the perfect basketball stomach.

Anyway, we’re going to do a lap next month and see if I have endo for sure (I still don’t think I do but we’ll see). Luckily she has had a cancellation (I keep thinking some lucky lady got pregnant even though this doctor isn’t an RE) so I get to go on the 10th. My next choice we September. I wasn’t waiting until September (not that I would have had a choice if the March 10th date wasn’t open). We have tickets to go to Disney on Ice with Kamryn’s best friend and her family on the the 12th. This is my biggest worry. I really want to go and think I will depending on, I guess, what they find. If it’s an easy one I think I should be able to handle it. Like really, I’m not skating in the show. Daniel can drop me at the door and I just have to sit in a seat and watch Mickey for an hour. We’ll see.

I took that Lupron shot back in November and it was wonderful. I didn’t cycle again until last week. I’m going to ovulate early next week though and I’m already uncomfortable so I’m not looking forward to this cycle. It’s going to hurt but I'm thinking it won’t kill me. The doctor did offer me some birth control if I wanted. I didn’t. I could always take another Lupron shot as well but they are freaking expensive and I really don’t like the idea of more drugs. Surgery I’m fine with though. I’m a nut.

Got an e-mail from Sam’s adoption agency earlier this week askng about our arrangements with Sam’s birthmother because the social worker had a voice mail from her and wanted to make sure she had all her information lined up before she called her back. I immediately panicked thinking there must be a problem. Sam’s birthmother has as her contact with us, my cell number. I had a disagreement with my cell phone provider earlier this month and I’m punishing them (ya right!) by not putting any money on the phone (it’s a pay as you go). My phone is more of a paperweight than anything else. It rings quite regularly but the calls aren’t ever for me (lots of wrong numbers). The only people who really have the number are my parents – for when the are watching the kids and Daniel and Sam’s birthmother. I completely forgot about that being a link to her or I would have had it fixed sooner although she has only called us once that way. However, she has our e-mail address, we have exchanged e-mail and pictures recently (last month) so she can always contact us that way and we are happy to call her. We had no contact prior to last month because she had "dropped out" and we had no way of reaching her - all our contact had been with Sam’s grandmother. Last month (I think at Nana’s urging) she called and talked with Daniel. At that point, we exchanged our e-mail addresses etc. and I sent her pretty much everything I had been sending to Nana. We told her that we would send an e-mail with pictures once a month and that she could call when she wanted.

We had a "problem" with Sam’s Step-grandfather and Aunt over Christmas and I know they went and told his birthmother all sorts of awful things that really upset her - thus the call after Christmas. They wanted to send Sam a Christmas present. They do not have our mailing address and we didn't want them to have it because we didn't trust them not to give to his birthmother. As I have mentioned previously I think, she has some problems and we didn't want to open the door one Saturday morning and find her standing there - surprise! Her not having our address is something that both the adoption agency and Nana had strongly recommended. Nana had called to ask whether it was okay for her to give it to them or not. We told her at this time we preferred they not get it and that if they wanted to send something they could either send it to her and she could forward or use the adoption agency as the intermediary and we would pay the shipping. This was not "acceptable" to them and they have cut us off (stupid since the only person who gets hurt here is Sam but nothing we can do about it).

Anyway, I was worried that even after the great exchange we had last month that there was still a problem. We tried to reassure her that she was entitled to much more than her Step-father and Step-Sister and that we would NEVER cut her off. Still, her level of understanding is not always very good and her Step-father is a “real piece of work.” So I worried and worried and worried. Turns out she just wanted to call the social worker to “chat ... to let her know how cute Sam looks in the pictures we've sent and how he and Kamryn look like they belong together.”

She wanted the social worker’s e-mail address again to send her some pictures. Sounds like Samantha. She’s really young (I mean more than chronologically) and looks for validation and that’s all it was. I’m happy that she knows that Sam is happy.

Nana, who we spoke with last week, told me that she thinks she has convinced her to stop getting pregnant which is such a relief. This had been a big problem.

So all sorts of drama with nothing really to worry about. :)

More on Schools: An embarrassment of riches

"The house backs on to a park and schoolyard. Within easy sight and shouting distance of the backyard there is an elementary school, community centre, play
structure, baseball diamond, skating rink, tennis courts, basketball hoops and a soccer field. In addition to the school in our backyard, there is another elementary school and a high school both within easy walking distance (5 minutes) of the house."

The above is a quote from our Dear Birthparent letter. This whole issue with Kamyrn's "new" school has me thinking. We live in school central, that was one of the things we were sure to tell both kids birthfamilies about. Let's me write out a little legend to help keep things straight:

School A = Backyard School
School B = Nearby Perfect School
School C = So Now I need a bus School
School D = So I can't handle instruction in French
School E = Just cause their aren't enough schools let's add another

There really is a HUGE elementary school in our backyard, school A. Most of the other families on our street I am positive (by the looks of incredulity we get quite regularly) think we're a little odd in our conviction that neither of our kids will go there. School A is a good school with an excellent French immersion programme and well it's the backyard. They can walk to school out a back gate in our fence should we choose to install such a gate. We have always been adamant that French school is better than French immersion and I don't know why any parent with that option would settle to less. The difference though is the effort the parents must put in (which I know is the case with two of our biggest critics). If you want to send your kid to school in French as opposed to a French programme for English kids you have to commit to speaking in French in the home. Big commitment there - if you don't, unless you have really gifted kids they are going to struggle (some can handle it I know two amazing teenagers that only speak French at school but have done amazingly well). Anyway, having a school in the backyard makes you wonder if settling for the easy route may not be so bad. Anyway, it's a public school and that was something we also knew we didn't want to settle for. I went to Catholic school (Catholic schools are funded by the government here but belong to a separate school board) and I still have a bias that they are better (I find they have a stronger community spirit). So that excluded School A.

The next closest school, School B. is at the end of our street a 5 minute walk from the house. It is French and catholic. This is the school we had always assumed our kids would go to when we moved here and our street was literally an island in the middle of a farmer's field. This was the school we spoke about with the kids birthfamilies - how we were their perfect choice because we lived near a good school. lol. Okay due to some bizarre zoning issues that we found out about when Kamryn was about a year old we are not eligible to send our kids to the school at the end of the block. We live on the East side of the street the school is on. The school is on the west side. The road the school is on is the boundary and we are on the wrong side.

So we were relagated to School C. School C isn't all that far away. I timed it last summer. As an adult I could walk to the school, leisurely, in 11 minutes. It does however cross 4 lanes of busy 80 km/h traffic. Our kids wouldn't be walking to school. They would be bussed until grade 8. Seems utterly preposterous considering School B is so close. I had considered making a stink about (I'm sure many parents already had) until two things happened. A neighbour who's kids started at School B school and then were forced to move to School C raved about how much better she thought School C was. Now this really doesn't mean all that much. This is an utterly homogeneous community. Most households are made up of at least one individual who works for the federal government. It has one of the highest (if not the highest) per capita income in the country (not because everyone is rich; just no one is poor) and overwhelming majority of adult residents have completed either community college or university (more have been to university than college even). (These are stats from the 2001 Census; I suspect it's even "worse/better" now as a large number of sizable single family homes have been built since 2001. http://www.ctv.ca/mini/election2006/preelections/riding35063.html ) My point is that as uniformly middle class as this area is all the schools are about the same. Still it helps to hear someone loves a school your kids are going to go to. The other thing is Kamyrn's best friend lives right next to School C and the two should be going to school together. That seemed nice (okay I'm a suck). I'm still kind of sad that that won't happen.

Now we had a back up plan in case the kids couldn't handle school in French. That would be School D and E both English catholic schools equidistant from our house. I'm not sure which school they would be zoned for because they are both so close although School D is across the same scary road as School C.

So now, although living around an unreal amount of elementary school - all good we have chosen to drive our kids 10 minutes down the road to this other school - so they won't be able to walk to school. I am, nevertheless, so psyched about this school!

Trapped Inside

Yesterday, a french elementary school not to far from here had to close because over 1/3 of their teachers and students had to be sent home (or I guess were already at home) with Norovirus. It was a big enough story (or perhaps a slow enough news day (should have asked Daniel who cut the story)) to make the 6'oclock news. I can't handle Norovirus right now. As I told Claude this morning: I have a rotten cold (I feel like I shovelled Coal all night), AF is here; I can't handle throwing up kids or for the matter throwing up me on top of it all.

It may already be too late (last time Norovirus visted it respected it's 5-day incubation period almost to the hour). Kamryn was a preschool on both Monday and Wednesday with kids who no doubt have siblings that go to the "infected" school. We spent Tuesday morning running around an indoor park at the mall with kids who also probably go to this school (although if memory serves I didn't hear much french being spoken. ) I'm hoping my judicious use of Purell whenever we leave that Park might save me. Today you couldn't get me to leave the house with these kids if you paid me HUGE sums of money.

We're in hiding. It's - 14 C (6 F) out so no playing outside either. Just went upstairs and got them ALL our extra pillows so they are having a whale of time with that. Don't know how long that will last. I don't have the energy to be all that creative as this cold is just kicking my butt but I'm trying to keep the TV/DVD player off as long as possible. This of course will all be undone on Sunday because they have a birthday party to go to (next door) and it would be cruel not to let them attend if everyone is healthy. Lordy I hate Norovirus, when we had it last year I don't think I've ever felt more awful. We actually had to send Kamryn away because we were too sick to take care of her.

We are in!

Kamryn is now a proud student of École élémentaire catholique d’enseignement personnalisé La Source (quite a mouthful eh?). Daniel thinks they have messed up somewhere (as do I) but I don't think there is anything they can do about it now (without lots of people having egg on their faces and much indignant yelling from us). There is a chance that they haven't messed up though.

We arrived for our interview this afternoon and it was VERY clear that it wasn't an information session but a registration session. So we registered her, had a long chat with the director about the philosophy of the school etc. etc., the fact that they are building a new building that will open in 2008 and the fact that they are instituting a follow-on program starting in September at what will be Kamryn's eventual highschool/middle school. Kamryn had a little tour and visited the kindergarten on her own (well with a teacher tour guide) and made some crafts.

After we talked about everything, we brought up the fact that no one had told us that there was actually a spot for Kamryn at the school and we thought we were just on the waiting list. She looks surprised and asked when we had put Kamryn on the waiting list. I told her last month and she commented that we were lucky to get her in since the school is full right through the 2008 school year. I think more than luck was at work here (I think someone mixed up the paperwork somewhere). Even better though, because Kamryn is now a student, Sam is guaranteed a spot. Now all we have to do is wait until May when we will be invited back to the school to try on and purchase all the uniforms we need. We're holding on to our appointment with our neighbourhood school (for May) just in case they do decide they have made an error (really I can't believe we were this lucky). We'll cancel it after we go to the uniform buying session.

Got to love my kids...

So Sam got up from his nap and I was in the middle of something. Kamryn asked if she could go up and see him and I sent her to placate him. Well things were REALLY quiet so I turned the monitor up....

She's upstairs in his room reading to him. :)

Going to Disney... Next Year

Another happy note to balance my last entry.

We are planning a trip to Disney for next year. We seriously contemplated it for this year but figured Sam would not be occupied enough being too little and a bored Sam is a screaming miserable Sam. Next year he should be able to enjoy it a little more. We want to go and stay in the Magic Kingdom at one of the resorts. This idea has been poo-pooed by some of my friends. If I had a nickel for every time someone told me “why go if they won’t remember it?” Hunh? I don’t get the logic there just because they won’t have distinct memories of it does that mean we can’t do anything fun with them? Also, it’s a trade-off. I know because my parents waited “until we would remember it.” I was 11. At 11 there isn’t much magic left. Cinderella is a lady in a dress. Next year I know Cinderella will still be Cinderella for Kamryn. I’m looking forward to them experiencing the “Magic” because without that it’s really just another huge amusement park.

I’ve also been told it’s a nightmare with young kids. You can’t tell me that they designed this multi-billion dollar park complex for children and totally neglected things for kids under 5 to do?!? Lol These excuses for not going really sound like excuses to me. My SIL’s family used the same excuses. Their kids are now 12, 14, and 18 and they haven’t been yet. I think they would probably remember it now.

So what if they can’t go on ALL the rides. There are so many more things to do than just rides. When we were there for our honeymoon (8 years ago?!?) they were just about to open the Animal Kingdom. I am looking forward to seeing the park opened among other things. We want to take a week and take it easy, not spend each and every day park hopping rather do things are the spirit moves us. If we went to hang out in our pajamas in the hotel for the day, so be it. The idea is to have a family vacation where my kids have some fun.

I asked on one of the Inciid boards what people thought and heard enough good reports from people who had actually done it to discount the negative “support” of my friends and family. We’re thinking next January would be a good time to go as that seems to be off season. When we were on our honeymoon it was off season too (first week of September) and the lines were manageable. The lines are the only thing about Disney that I worry about. That and hurricanes. Lol On our honeymoon we “weathered: Hurricane Earl as it was it only sideswiped Florida. Think we are pretty safe in January.

One of those days (I'm just whining, pay no attention)

So I’m having one of those days that tells me I’m not cut out to be a stay-at-home-mom. I love my kids dearly and I cherish this time I get to spend with them but its days like this that get to me. It is freaking cold out so no playing outside. Both the kids had “activities” this morning. Kamryn had preschool and Sam and I went to a toddler music class (always a challenge with him). It is as if while they were out someone slipped each of them a couple of bennies because when we got back to the house at 11:30 they were just out-of-control hyperactive. Mayhem ensued.

Bad mommy moment here – at one point I just had had it with telling them to calm down and leave each other alone and figured if they wanted to wrestle fine – they would stop when of them started wailing (I figured how much could they really hurt each other they each weigh within 5 pounds of one another). Luckily for all of us I guess, no one hurt anyone else. They are napping now (probably the source of the hyperness was overtiredness).

Today, I want a day off (never realized the SAHM don’t get those; they need a union). I want to go out to lunch with a girlfriend (hahahahaha like that’s going to happen; maybe I’m a crappy friend as all my girlfriends seem to have deserted me). I want to have a massage. I want to come home to happy quietly playing kids, bathed and ready for bed. Nope, not going to happen. Daniel is working and that means I won’t see him until the kids are bathed and ready for bed (most likely in bed). The house needs cleaning up from yesterday’s Superbowl “party” (if my parents constitute party guests) and the kids will both be awake in less than an hour and needing to be entertained so I better “buck up and get to ‘er”.

One thing that has got me bummed is Sam’s music class. Well not the class per se but the skills of the other kids in the class. I hate going to this class with Sam because while all the other kids listen intently and sit quietly (not through the whole class but most of it) he’s like dealing with a Tiger Cub with a rash. He squirms and pulls and screeches if you don’t let him go. If you do let him go things just deteriorate and he becomes more than a little disruptive. He wasn’t too bad this morning. Not perfect but we didn’t have to leave the room. Still it’s a tiring experience for me (he has made soooo much progress though so it’s worth going). I haven’t been since before Christmas as Daniel’s work schedule has made it so that he could go with him (and as I mentioned I HATE going).

Today, I observed the other kids in the class. The gap in his language skills is becoming more and more obvious. He’s just not picking things up. Kids who were a little ahead of him are now light years and there is no denying there is a problem. My fear is though that it is more than just a problem with language (especially given the behavior issues we have). Is his inability to learn language an indication of other learning problems. I think he was the only kid in the class today that didn’t know (or care?) what sounds different animals make. My cousin’s son, 4 months younger than Sam, just parrots them off. His grandmother, my aunt (who I can’t stand), keeps bragging about his skills and commenting in a snide way about why we aren’t concerned about Sam’s “lack of progress.” Well, I’ve pretty much been dismissing it as something we haven’t worked a lot on. Today really brought the point home how far behind he is. :(
I’m also REALLY tired of the screaming/crying/whining. If things aren’t going EXACTLY the way he wants them to he dissolves into tears. If he has trouble getting a toy to work the way he wants it and you won’t do it for him; if Kamryn has a toy he wants; if you don’t get him out of the car fast enough etc. etc. and lo an behold if you put him “in time out.” You can’t wait to let him stop screaming (literally screaming) because well he’d be in his pack and play for the rest of his natural life. He will cry until he throws up and will not calm himself down or quiet down or even pause. How can you ignore a tantrum if it NEVER stops. I thank God he sleeps well because this is one child who could never cry himself to sleep. Sigh, I’m tired.

On a good note, Kamryn passed her first level of swimming lessons easily on her first try this weekend. I was proud of her. She isn’t the best listener in swim class and on Saturday she was extra good. It was an easy Saturday for all of us. Normally, she has gymnastics first thing in the morning (having both activities on the same day was a 3-week overlap of classes that couldn’t be helped). Anyway, she goes to gymnastics for 8:30. Daniel picks us up and I drive him to work for 9:30. Then we come home and the kids get snacks. Then I drive Sam to my parents so that I can take Kamryn to her swimming lesson at noon. Then Kamryn and I grab lunch and then back to get Sam and home so everyone can have naps. I hate it. This Saturday, for the first time since before Christmas, Daniel wasn’t working AND gymnastics was on an off week. So we hung out until 11:00 or so when Kamryn and I left to run some errands and go to her swim class. I’m sure her extra attentiveness was due to not being all tired out already. After class we had a Mom and Daughter lunch and then did the grocery shopping. She was a wonderful little companion and we had a good time.

Wednesday we go for our “interview” at the school we are trying to get her in to. I don’t know if I mentioned it here (I don’t think so) but we got a registration package in the mail a few weeks ago. The session we are attending is described in the package as a registration session. I THINK we are “in” but I’m quite confused so I could be wrong. I’m sure things will get clarified on Wednesday. I’m anxious to know.

I’m wracking my mind here to mention something positive about Sam right now and sadly can’t think of anything. :( There are things; just not easily describable I guess. He is a lovable little boy. He has a smile that could melt icebergs and a wicked sense of humour. He’s also really smart. He’s recently become really attached to a stuffed big bird that he got for Christmas. It’s really adorable to watch. He loves to dance and it cracks me up to watch him “get down.” He just takes a lot of patience.

Can't a mom even poop in peace?

So I REALLY had to go to the bathroom. I put on a TV show both kids like. I closed the gate, told Kamryn where I was going and headed to the powder room.
No sooner do I sit down than Kamryn let's out this bloodcurdling scream. Through the sobbing she is yelling about Sam hitting her with a chair. So my mind runs through the possibilities. In the family room they have two folding kids chairs (metal), two folding lounge chairs (metal and upholstered), and a wooden kids Ikea chair. Good grief. Well I'm figuring he isn't that big how much damage could he have done. Still...

Then she goes on to continue screaming (and I'm talking loud, like she is being eaten by lions) about how he going to hit her again. More screaming and wailing. So no choice. End early and race to the family room where I see Kamryn lying on the couch, cowering from Sam who is weilding a doll chair. Well... that could hurt but really she is plenty big enough to get away from him or simply TAKE the chair from him. To be honest I just wanted to tell her to hit him back (sometimes he deserves it I think; she is soooooo good at NEVER hitting him back and he just wails on her) but that's not really responsible parenting .

Sam ended up in baby jail (read our pack and play) and Kamryn was exiled to her room for obsessive dramatics.

The photo is of my calm duo and their tools of destruction, Sam is weilding his offending weapon:

Oops forgot to write. My apologies.

A little bird (or 2!) sent me a note and reminded me that I had not written in awhile. To be honest (and I apologize) I hadn’t noticed. So then I thought well it’s because nothing interesting has happened and then I thought well maybe sooooommme interesting things have happened it just never occurred to me to write about them here. Big things happened today though. More on that later. (This is kind of like the teaser they give you at the beginning of a news broadcast. You won’t hear anymore until 2 minutes before the end. ;))

It’s been quite a month. I had been feeling really guilty for the longest while because since we left Thunder Bay in May we had had no contact whatsoever with Sam’s birthmother. His grandmother (I’m not going to use “birth bla bla bla here cause it just gets cumbersome when used for relatives other than his birthparents) calls regularly. She had visited as well as his step grandfather and aunt and cousin. We had sent e-mails and pictures to his grandmother, his step grandfather, his grandmother’s friend, our social workers etc. etc. etc. but his birthmother was lost for awhile and then when she was “found” it took us a awhile to get any contact information on her. Finally, I got some info on her from her mother and the mother must have spoken to her as well because last week she called! She only has my cell number, we let it ring and then called her back (blocked our number) on our land line. Daniel spoke to her because I’m just not a good phone person (don’t speak to my own family on the phone!) but it was just good to have contact with her. The next day we exchanged a whack of e-mails and I sent her some pictures. Now I have an e-mail address for her etc. so we can keep in regular contact.

The e-mails really brought home the difficulties this young girl is dealing with. She is brain injured and only attended school until grade 5. So different reading an e-mail from her rather than Kamryn’s birthmother. Very sad.

Okay now that we are all down in the dumps let’s change tracks.

A couple of years ago, a neighbour of mine told me of a new school in the community. It was a francophone Catholic school in the “Montessori tradition” (it’s not true Montessori but it’s very close). It’s a publicly funded school but VERY different from our neighbourhood school. She thought we might be interested in putting Kamryn on the waiting list. I set out to find out more information but couldn’t find anything. It sat on the back burner of my mind for awhile and then got lost in the shuffle. We have to register Kamryn for school next month and in trying to find information on registering her I ”found” “the School.” I was soooo very bummed because now there is little chance of Kamryn getting in having wasted two school years NOT on the waiting list. Still I e-mailed for information and since it costs nothing to sit on the list I figured what the heck.

The Director of the school nevertheless contacted us and wanted to tell us about the school personally. That got me all excited but she ended the conversation by telling us that if Kamryn didn’t get in there was always her neighbourhood school that is very good. Sigh. Hopes dashed. To be honest though before I knew for sure this “super-school” existed I was thrilled with the school she will likely attend. We put both Kamryn and Sam on the waiting list regardless and I tried to push it from my mind (that’s not to say that I didn’t plan which pieces of uniform attire I should purchase for her lol).

So I’m busy pushing it from my mind and yesterday they call to invite us on a tour of the school. What the heck?!? So now my hopes are up again except Daniel explained (he talked to them; remember I don’t do phone calls) they also want us to fill out paperwork for both kids. Does that mean they really just need us to fill out waiting list paperwork? I’m hoping that the waiting list can’t be all that long if we are getting a tour of the school. Seems like a waste of time to me if she doesn’t have a chance of getting in. I’m hoping it’s a case like Grad School where they FORGOT to tell me about my scholarship/TAship until I went to the school to visit about a month before school started. Maybe she is already in (I doubt that’s the case but that didn’t stop me looking at “school shoes” (ones that fit the uniform code) while out shopping today. We go for a visit on Feb 8th. Hopefully we will impresss them enough to gain admission. It’s a really small school (130 students in Jr Kindergarten though Grade 6) so even a few people on the waiting list makes admission unlikely. Cross your fingers for us.

Okay back to more somber stuff.

We took Sam to have his language screened last Friday. He's not startlingly behind but to me he always sounds like he is talking with a mouth full of marbles.I'm not horribly worried. He's talking; he's just not progressing. The words that he had 6 months ago that we could barely make out are still almost impossible to understand. Instead of saying whole words he says the first syllable only. He's just kind of in a rut and because of his "history" we've paid a lot of attention to his language acquisition. My thoughts going to the drop-in were that I just wanted someone else to tell me that he wasn't lagging (he was right on where he should be in June when he came home) but it's been a nagging thought in my head that he wasn't "going" anywhere for a few months now. At his 18 month appt. the doctor suggested we get his hearing tested and I told her we would wait and see. Lately though the half words and the grunting (he does alot of pointing and grunting) have really been getting to me so we went to the drop in. It's a prescreening that they do for no charge (well it's covered by government health insurance) and then if necessary you get sent on to a more involved evaluation. I expected her to say "oh he's fine"; don't worry." But no, she saw definite delays. We'll see what comes of the real evaluation. Could very well be that this is just a huge waste of time. Waiting lists are huge though. He won't get a real evaluation before June (we'll have an info session and consultation on how to best work to encourage his language in March sometime). If he needs services we're looking at September or something silly like that. Ugh!In the meantime, we have an appointment to get his hearing checked in March. Don't think there is anything wrong with his hearing though; his receptive language is awe inspiring (I think he may listen better than Kamryn because he hasn't quite learned he can ignore me yet) but it will be one test we won't have to deal with later.

Of course, since the screening clinic he seems to be talking more and more. We are working with him more but still that doesn’t explain the increase. So I dunno. I guess we will wait for the experts to tell us whether to worry or not.

Okay the news I teased with. The final paperwork for the finalization of Sam’s adoption arrived today! We’re almost done! We have some forms to sign and get notarized and mail back to his adoption agency and then we just wait. I’m thinking his adoption could be final by spring but I don’t know. Would be nice though.

Well that’s about all the news I have.