My life has never been so frigging nuts until lately. I really don't get it. Busy sure---but now I have no time to read the paper, shower, surf blogs. Hell, I haven't had a pedicure or manicure since Lala was here. And I'm "home" with a nanny. And I live a 3 minute walk from a nail bar.
Monday was a very unhappy day, and Tuesday was Julius' six month birthday, but as I ran madly from one place to another, I realized that it wasn't much of a way to celebrate. We got his shots, he's 20 pounds, and 27.5 inches I think. (Can't find the paper it's written on? Hopefully he's that big.) After speaking to the Doc I decided to delay starting solids for another week or two until we get him used to the helmet. I really don't want him to have any negative feelings about food, and if he hates the helmet, and then associates the two? Ughhh.
Anyway, it won't kill him to wait. Not like kids need solid food at this point anyway. Mostly just extra work for Moms, IMO. It's nowhere near the calorie content of breastmilk or formula so when my older two started it, they actually lost weight at first. Kaz got food allergies, and Mac got gas and indigestion, so hell, delaying a week or two is just fine by me.
Julius clung to me the rest of the day while I exchanged emails with people re. Kaz and Mac's assessments and appointments to deal with their medication, etc. etc.. Dinner, scooping kids to bed, yelling about homework, and chatting to Kaz about some minor incident with a basketball, and then I seem to have collapsed on my bed with my contacts still pasted to my eyeballs. Baby up a few times to eat, drag back to bed.
Woke up Wednesday morning, went into kids rooms with medication and glasses of water. Mac took his, went to get dressed.
I go into Kaz's room and he----completely fucking fell apart with a histrionic temper tantrum that blew the doors off half the house. He started freaking that he wasn't taking the higher dose, even though he has been taking it for a week and a half now, and he liked it so far. (Note: this is the first time ever, that he has refused to take his medication. Ever.) Apparently, the basketball from the day before, had hit him in the face, and he blamed the medication for making him so focused that he missed the ball. He figures that from now on, if he ever takes that dose of medication again, he will be injured, "just like with the basketball."
And if you can figure out that fucked up logic, I'll give you a gold star, because to this moment, I think it's stupid. Random events happen. Too much focus that means you can't focus? Wha? And if he had been that injured by a ball, I'd have gotten a call from the school, or an email, so was it really that bad?
I tried to tell him it was dumb luck, just a coincidence, highly unlikely to ever happen again. He however, had his mind set on it, and was crying, and yelling, and blowing snot out his nose, and running all over the house, screaming at me. The baby finally woke up, and I had to juggle him, and try to keep him calm while Mr. Puberty/OverSensitive hid in the corner of the bathroom snuffling and sobbing bitterly about his mother and how she JUST DIDN'T UNDERSTAND HIM!!!!
You know three year olds with tantrums make you want to rip your hair out? Wait until the little bastards turn twelve, and are as tall as you. You will seriously consider boarding school.
Mr.Cotta finally stepped in and prevented me from committing homicide or saying anything like, "You are grounded for life and Christmas is cancelled!" (I like to stick to what I say when I say it, but that would suck to enforce.) He made him take his medication, told him we don't debate that in the morning, but can talk about it later, and took him to school, and promised to pick him up so I wouldn't have to see his sulky little face. I was so emotionally wrung out after that, it took me hours to really calm down.
You see, Kaz picked today of all days, Julius' final helmet fitting day, to freak out. You know, the helmet for baby flat head, aka positional plagiocephaly, I spent almost the entire day at the hospital, getting the helmet, holding the baby while he screamed, waiting for the helmet to be cut and fitted, and sawed, and sanded. Learning how to put it on him and take it off, clean it and prep the baby's head....trust me, today of all days, was not the day for Kaz to go into puberty.
In the end, Julius got his helmet, and it fits nicely, and he isn't screaming when it's on. Mind you, we can't put it on him fast. It's a slow process over 3-7 days to avoid giving him blisters on his head. First, a few hours at a time while he's awake, then longer, then while he naps, then after a few days, while he sleeps at night. Eventually, we do 18 hours a day, maybe 20.
Sigh.
I have to go now and sleep before tomorrow's insane day starts. Fuck I'm tired.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Dunking in water
Some of you may remember that my husband baptized Julius in the NICU while I was still passed out cold getting stitched. And although technically it still 'takes' the same as if a priest does it, I like things done nice and officially. Or at least I like to have witnessed it after all the pain and agony to get the little bugger.
Well, yesterday we poured water on his head, and made him cry, just like good Catholics should. Priest and congregation all watched and witnessed. (Only bummer, they wrote my maiden/adoptive name instead of my married name on the baptismal certificate, bizarre considering I've never gone by it as long as they've known me, and am registered with the parish in my married name. WTF is it with people not calling me by the name I've decided to call myself? Anyway, they will fix it, and send us a new one.)
Then we had a huge party at the house, catered and bartended. We've always done this stuff ourselves, cooking and serving drinks and running around included, but this was easier what with 3 kids etc. That was the excellent part of the week.
Sunday we lazed around, made the kids do twenty minutes of homework, and then played Monopoly. I won! I never win! Kaz was a little upset when I forced him into bankruptcy, but he had landed on a property I owned and owed me major rent. Then he had refused to take the deal I offered him, which involved him giving me some of his properties and permanent immunity/free rent on Boardwalk and Park Place, which he would still own, with hotels. He could have kept his cash and lived to play another day, but he told me he'd rather die than give his mother his hard earned real estate, so the die was cast.
Yes, we take Monopoly seriously in this house.
Today was not so good. Today was the day that we met with the school regarding Kaz and what kind of work he can expect to get at his new school. Can they move him up a few grades, and give him more challenging work? Can they give him some help with creative writing? Help him stay organized?
Short answer--No.
In direct opposition of what the psychologist wrote, the school is dismissing the words gifted, because they figure all children at the school are bright. Not from what I have seen, maybe some are better than B students, but its pretty much average as students go. They also figure that their curriculum is very enriched as it is. I'm not sure how they figure that when it's just the same old crappy Ontario public school curriculum, unlike our previous private school, which was academic boot camp on steroids. But boy did this school official latch onto any and all learning issues she could find. She spent an hour and a half hacking away at my kid and everything she could find in the report. Any little thing she could latch onto that was negative was the sole focus of her recommendations. If he wants extra help, he'll have to go to her--a non-starter when she has nothing positive like more interesting work to offer. And because the Doc wrote the word gifted on page 2 instead page 6, she figured it wasn't part of the diagnosis, even though it SAYS IT IN THE REPORT. I had to insist to get her to agree that the word on page 2 spelled "G-I-F-T-E-D" actually was worthy of discussion. She actually said,"Well, this is a much better report than your old one because this one focuses on your sons many problems. The old one just talked about his abilities."
WTF? Neither report said that at all! Project much?
Seriously, as time passes, I am more and more convinced that she must have been smoking something before we came in.
We hadn't given her the version of the report that discussed ADHD. I had gotten a bad feeling from her, a whiff of prejudice, so I thought it prudent to just give her the edited version. Reality is that all ADHD issues/symptoms disappear in Kaz when he takes medication. (Same is true for most ADDers.) So as along as he takes long-acting medication, there is no need for the school to ever know. And considering the fight it appears I have on my hands, I am sooo glad I never trusted her. God knows what kind of crap she would have subjected him too. As it is, she kept asking and hinting and implying all sorts of things that were not written in the friggin' report.
I haven't given up completely. The psychologist is willing to speak to her on the phone and go to bat for us and do whatever he can to convince them that Kaz needs them to follow his recommendations. He was pretty mad when I told him the story, so I know that I have at least one ally.
Anyway, it all makes me cry. I can't believe the psychologist was right. He said that for any child who is different in any way, gifted, or LD, or amazingly talented or physically disabled, or musical, or geeky or whatever----high school will a test of endurance, a hellish experience of mediocrity and conformity to be survived until the longed for day when university can begin.
I thought that maybe things had changed. I guess not.
Crap.
In case you were wondering, no I don't recommend this school to anyone. The things I haven't written on this blog about this school would fill another entire blog. Seriously. And we can't transfer out. Ever. My poor sweet husband is so utterly totally devoted to the idea that his son will go this school, that he would never agree to change schools. Even if it is the absolute wrong fit for his actual son and not his projected fantasy child, he won't budge.
Remind anyone of the summer camp debacle?
Well, yesterday we poured water on his head, and made him cry, just like good Catholics should. Priest and congregation all watched and witnessed. (Only bummer, they wrote my maiden/adoptive name instead of my married name on the baptismal certificate, bizarre considering I've never gone by it as long as they've known me, and am registered with the parish in my married name. WTF is it with people not calling me by the name I've decided to call myself? Anyway, they will fix it, and send us a new one.)
Then we had a huge party at the house, catered and bartended. We've always done this stuff ourselves, cooking and serving drinks and running around included, but this was easier what with 3 kids etc. That was the excellent part of the week.
Sunday we lazed around, made the kids do twenty minutes of homework, and then played Monopoly. I won! I never win! Kaz was a little upset when I forced him into bankruptcy, but he had landed on a property I owned and owed me major rent. Then he had refused to take the deal I offered him, which involved him giving me some of his properties and permanent immunity/free rent on Boardwalk and Park Place, which he would still own, with hotels. He could have kept his cash and lived to play another day, but he told me he'd rather die than give his mother his hard earned real estate, so the die was cast.
Yes, we take Monopoly seriously in this house.
Today was not so good. Today was the day that we met with the school regarding Kaz and what kind of work he can expect to get at his new school. Can they move him up a few grades, and give him more challenging work? Can they give him some help with creative writing? Help him stay organized?
Short answer--No.
In direct opposition of what the psychologist wrote, the school is dismissing the words gifted, because they figure all children at the school are bright. Not from what I have seen, maybe some are better than B students, but its pretty much average as students go. They also figure that their curriculum is very enriched as it is. I'm not sure how they figure that when it's just the same old crappy Ontario public school curriculum, unlike our previous private school, which was academic boot camp on steroids. But boy did this school official latch onto any and all learning issues she could find. She spent an hour and a half hacking away at my kid and everything she could find in the report. Any little thing she could latch onto that was negative was the sole focus of her recommendations. If he wants extra help, he'll have to go to her--a non-starter when she has nothing positive like more interesting work to offer. And because the Doc wrote the word gifted on page 2 instead page 6, she figured it wasn't part of the diagnosis, even though it SAYS IT IN THE REPORT. I had to insist to get her to agree that the word on page 2 spelled "G-I-F-T-E-D" actually was worthy of discussion. She actually said,"Well, this is a much better report than your old one because this one focuses on your sons many problems. The old one just talked about his abilities."
WTF? Neither report said that at all! Project much?
Seriously, as time passes, I am more and more convinced that she must have been smoking something before we came in.
We hadn't given her the version of the report that discussed ADHD. I had gotten a bad feeling from her, a whiff of prejudice, so I thought it prudent to just give her the edited version. Reality is that all ADHD issues/symptoms disappear in Kaz when he takes medication. (Same is true for most ADDers.) So as along as he takes long-acting medication, there is no need for the school to ever know. And considering the fight it appears I have on my hands, I am sooo glad I never trusted her. God knows what kind of crap she would have subjected him too. As it is, she kept asking and hinting and implying all sorts of things that were not written in the friggin' report.
I haven't given up completely. The psychologist is willing to speak to her on the phone and go to bat for us and do whatever he can to convince them that Kaz needs them to follow his recommendations. He was pretty mad when I told him the story, so I know that I have at least one ally.
Anyway, it all makes me cry. I can't believe the psychologist was right. He said that for any child who is different in any way, gifted, or LD, or amazingly talented or physically disabled, or musical, or geeky or whatever----high school will a test of endurance, a hellish experience of mediocrity and conformity to be survived until the longed for day when university can begin.
I thought that maybe things had changed. I guess not.
Crap.
In case you were wondering, no I don't recommend this school to anyone. The things I haven't written on this blog about this school would fill another entire blog. Seriously. And we can't transfer out. Ever. My poor sweet husband is so utterly totally devoted to the idea that his son will go this school, that he would never agree to change schools. Even if it is the absolute wrong fit for his actual son and not his projected fantasy child, he won't budge.
Remind anyone of the summer camp debacle?
Friday, November 21, 2008
After the last post
Just a little message to the new political readers I seem to have picked up lately.
This is not solely a political blog like Liblogs and other aggregators and like many personal bloggers I do not just look at things from an objective point of view. So, when I post about a policy issue that the government needs to fix, it's not because I'm searching for something to say and found a news story, it's because in my own life, I have encountered a particular situation and perhaps have been dealing with it publicly or privately possibly for months. Even if I don't link to precise proof in a post, it doesn't matter, because I'm simply reporting what I as Jane average citizen have witnessed and my reaction to it. If you don't believe what I type, then google your own damn fingers away and find links, or fuck off. Real life is not a university essay, complete with credits and footnotes and bibliographies, and leaving comments asking for proof is high school. This is the real world, complete with dead babies, and live kids, and vaginas, and hot flashes, and discrimination and ridiculous encounters with government and business and neighbours and messy family situations.
So to the commenter, "Fact checker", I left you a comment afterwards with the links you so desperately desired. I assume that you will still doubt me. Your comment wasn't the thing that pissed me off, by they way, it was your name. Oh well, guess who doesn't give a flying fuck about what you think?
As to the subject at hand, the issue still remains and it needs to be said, that if Passport Canada really cared about protecting children from kidnapping and other custodial disputes, then they would require ALL children to present long form birth certificates, and then print those names in the passport of the child. That way a happily married dad could not simply sneakily pack up the kids and flee on a plane with those normal passports to say, the Middle East, and refuse to return the kids. As it is, he could just forge a letter from the "supposed" mom saying he has permission to go and without proof of who the mom is, they would just let the kids go. Poor mom comes home from work, and voila, too late.
No, this is about treating certain children like lower class citizens. If you disagree and wish to be an anonymous tithead, feel free to go back to LibLogs or the Blogging Tories and have fun there. They tolerate that shit. I do not.
Ok, done with that for today. Next.
My Doc called with my hormone levels from yesterdays blood test. Sigh....
FSH 19
LH 11
E2 683
Progesterone 2
I had a sort of AF a few days back. Not much. So this might be early in a cycle. Or not. I have been taking some estrace here and there to help with the hot flashes, but not much else. Debating lower doses of DHEA to help my hormones work nice, without making any eggies. I want to feel normal, but never ever ever ever ever ever get pregnant again. That delivery scared the shit out of me. I'm terrified of dying from another abruption, one that might not get caught in time. And of course, guess who doesn't feel like getting a vasectomy?
Yah
So looking at those numbers, no wonder I feel menopausal. Sooo, I'm going to try to take some progesterone with the estrogen and we scheduled an ultrasound to check on my fibroid. Hopefully it shrank after the c-section, but since it was all done so fast, no one noted it on the surgical report. Also, during surgery no one could find my ovaries. Apparently, they are missing. Should I send out an APB?
Seriously, I love advice from fellow infertiles. Any thoughts on what might be happening?
Is it the fibroid? The breastfeeding? The ovarian failure returning?
Where do you think my ovaries are? On vacation?
I bet they got a passport no problem.
This is not solely a political blog like Liblogs and other aggregators and like many personal bloggers I do not just look at things from an objective point of view. So, when I post about a policy issue that the government needs to fix, it's not because I'm searching for something to say and found a news story, it's because in my own life, I have encountered a particular situation and perhaps have been dealing with it publicly or privately possibly for months. Even if I don't link to precise proof in a post, it doesn't matter, because I'm simply reporting what I as Jane average citizen have witnessed and my reaction to it. If you don't believe what I type, then google your own damn fingers away and find links, or fuck off. Real life is not a university essay, complete with credits and footnotes and bibliographies, and leaving comments asking for proof is high school. This is the real world, complete with dead babies, and live kids, and vaginas, and hot flashes, and discrimination and ridiculous encounters with government and business and neighbours and messy family situations.
So to the commenter, "Fact checker", I left you a comment afterwards with the links you so desperately desired. I assume that you will still doubt me. Your comment wasn't the thing that pissed me off, by they way, it was your name. Oh well, guess who doesn't give a flying fuck about what you think?
As to the subject at hand, the issue still remains and it needs to be said, that if Passport Canada really cared about protecting children from kidnapping and other custodial disputes, then they would require ALL children to present long form birth certificates, and then print those names in the passport of the child. That way a happily married dad could not simply sneakily pack up the kids and flee on a plane with those normal passports to say, the Middle East, and refuse to return the kids. As it is, he could just forge a letter from the "supposed" mom saying he has permission to go and without proof of who the mom is, they would just let the kids go. Poor mom comes home from work, and voila, too late.
No, this is about treating certain children like lower class citizens. If you disagree and wish to be an anonymous tithead, feel free to go back to LibLogs or the Blogging Tories and have fun there. They tolerate that shit. I do not.
Ok, done with that for today. Next.
My Doc called with my hormone levels from yesterdays blood test. Sigh....
FSH 19
LH 11
E2 683
Progesterone 2
I had a sort of AF a few days back. Not much. So this might be early in a cycle. Or not. I have been taking some estrace here and there to help with the hot flashes, but not much else. Debating lower doses of DHEA to help my hormones work nice, without making any eggies. I want to feel normal, but never ever ever ever ever ever get pregnant again. That delivery scared the shit out of me. I'm terrified of dying from another abruption, one that might not get caught in time. And of course, guess who doesn't feel like getting a vasectomy?
Yah
So looking at those numbers, no wonder I feel menopausal. Sooo, I'm going to try to take some progesterone with the estrogen and we scheduled an ultrasound to check on my fibroid. Hopefully it shrank after the c-section, but since it was all done so fast, no one noted it on the surgical report. Also, during surgery no one could find my ovaries. Apparently, they are missing. Should I send out an APB?
Seriously, I love advice from fellow infertiles. Any thoughts on what might be happening?
Is it the fibroid? The breastfeeding? The ovarian failure returning?
Where do you think my ovaries are? On vacation?
I bet they got a passport no problem.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Blueish
I'm a bit down right now. My hormones seem to be a bit off. I don't know if it's my thyroid again, or my estrogen but I'm dragging my rear I tell ya.
It could also be the lack of sunshine. Or the overwhelming sense of anxiety I feel today.
Last Saturday we went out to dinner with a very nice couple we like, but they started to bicker over something minor at one point, and my husband and I jollied them out of it, but now, I haven't spoken to her at all this week, and I'm beginning to wonder if something went wrong? Everyone seemed happy?
Monday Julius got measured for his helmet. It was unpleasant to say the least.
Nothing like draping a baby in wet slimy plaster to induce screaming in him.
Hell, nothing like presenting mommy with a bill for $1500 to induce screaming in her.
(Yes, this is considered cosmetic, and therefore not covered by public health insurance. Because children with funny looking bent heads will never be bullied on the playground....eyeroll....issue #873456137 on my list of shit to fix in government....)
Tuesday I finally got the paperwork in for my passports and the childrens' passports. With absolutely no fucking help at all from my husband, who had promised me that HE WOULD HELP. Grrrrr. Anyway, I spent the entire time in the Immigration building convinced that I would be stopped by the guards and given a *special* government cavity search. Mostly because every single time I have ever been in a government building Very Bad Things have happened to me. (I was shaking, polite, and whispering the entire time, hard to believe, but true, I don't rant every second of the day.)
At one point they insisted that I need to have my adoptive name on my passport, except of course for that whole "legal" name change to another name. Ummm, HELLO, I changed it!?! I swear, if it comes back wrong, I'm going to change my last name to "Passport Canada sucks donkey balls" and then get THAT on my passport. That'll show em, right?
Ok, maybe not.
Actually, I'm more concerned right now about Julius' photo. There was a teeny little wrinkle in the background blanket behind him which may screw the photo. His expression was perfect, and blank, and fit all the regs. Yes, I got a baby to behave perfectly and pose nice, no drugs involved. But apparently that is not good enough. Teeny tiny babies must BEHAVE dammit. Here's hoping the wrinkle in space passes scrutiny.
Poor Kaz, though has the worst end of the stick. He alone will be required to carry his long form birth certificate at all times, or his passport will be invalid. The other children, will not have to do that. The reason, as I've discussed, before, is that we were not married when Kaz was born. We got married afterwards. The rules say that all children born to unmarried parents, aka bastards, must carry proof of parentage, because the department believes they are at higher risk of parental kidnapping than children born in wedlock. There is no statistical proof of this, by the way. Lots of parents get divorced and have custody issues, none of which the department can ever discover unless an opposing lawyer notifies them. Basically, they treat common law couples like criminals in waiting, and married couples like they are always perfect and innocent.
This leads to the bizarreness that says that my husband and I are quite likely to kidnap and transport across the border our oldest son, but fuck the other ones, who cares about those little buggers, right? We'll just dump them in a ditch, correct? Sigh...in case you are wondering, I asked, and they will be placing a note on Kaz's passport that denotes that he is different from the other children and must carry a long form birth certificate, along with notarized letters attesting that we "share" custody.
We don't have to do that for the other children.
Even though Kaz can speak and discuss and argue points as perfectly as an adult can. He stays in the house by himself. He has a cellphone. He can go on the subway by himself. He has his own bank account and manages his own money. If a cop or a customs officer asked him if he was with the right person, he'd answer properly.
Even though Mac is pretty naive at eight, not old enough to stay alone even for five minutes, and Julius is small enough for someone to pick up and carry away---no one will ever ask who their parents are or if they are at risk for being kidnapped.
None of it matters, because their slutty mother wasn't married before she gave birth to the first kid. Sigh....well at least I'm in good company. heh
I pick up the passports on December 2nd. Supposedly. We'll see.
Final bit o anxiety....I made the mistake of trusting someone I've known for years in the meat world with my add diagnosis. I came out and it was a dumb mistake, now they won't speak to me. Won't return emails or phone calls. I'm no longer a person to them. Back in the closet for me. Just praying this person won't out me now.
Scuse me, I need to go be scared of my own shadow now....
It could also be the lack of sunshine. Or the overwhelming sense of anxiety I feel today.
Last Saturday we went out to dinner with a very nice couple we like, but they started to bicker over something minor at one point, and my husband and I jollied them out of it, but now, I haven't spoken to her at all this week, and I'm beginning to wonder if something went wrong? Everyone seemed happy?
Monday Julius got measured for his helmet. It was unpleasant to say the least.
Nothing like draping a baby in wet slimy plaster to induce screaming in him.
Hell, nothing like presenting mommy with a bill for $1500 to induce screaming in her.
(Yes, this is considered cosmetic, and therefore not covered by public health insurance. Because children with funny looking bent heads will never be bullied on the playground....eyeroll....issue #873456137 on my list of shit to fix in government....)
Tuesday I finally got the paperwork in for my passports and the childrens' passports. With absolutely no fucking help at all from my husband, who had promised me that HE WOULD HELP. Grrrrr. Anyway, I spent the entire time in the Immigration building convinced that I would be stopped by the guards and given a *special* government cavity search. Mostly because every single time I have ever been in a government building Very Bad Things have happened to me. (I was shaking, polite, and whispering the entire time, hard to believe, but true, I don't rant every second of the day.)
At one point they insisted that I need to have my adoptive name on my passport, except of course for that whole "legal" name change to another name. Ummm, HELLO, I changed it!?! I swear, if it comes back wrong, I'm going to change my last name to "Passport Canada sucks donkey balls" and then get THAT on my passport. That'll show em, right?
Ok, maybe not.
Actually, I'm more concerned right now about Julius' photo. There was a teeny little wrinkle in the background blanket behind him which may screw the photo. His expression was perfect, and blank, and fit all the regs. Yes, I got a baby to behave perfectly and pose nice, no drugs involved. But apparently that is not good enough. Teeny tiny babies must BEHAVE dammit. Here's hoping the wrinkle in space passes scrutiny.
Poor Kaz, though has the worst end of the stick. He alone will be required to carry his long form birth certificate at all times, or his passport will be invalid. The other children, will not have to do that. The reason, as I've discussed, before, is that we were not married when Kaz was born. We got married afterwards. The rules say that all children born to unmarried parents, aka bastards, must carry proof of parentage, because the department believes they are at higher risk of parental kidnapping than children born in wedlock. There is no statistical proof of this, by the way. Lots of parents get divorced and have custody issues, none of which the department can ever discover unless an opposing lawyer notifies them. Basically, they treat common law couples like criminals in waiting, and married couples like they are always perfect and innocent.
This leads to the bizarreness that says that my husband and I are quite likely to kidnap and transport across the border our oldest son, but fuck the other ones, who cares about those little buggers, right? We'll just dump them in a ditch, correct? Sigh...in case you are wondering, I asked, and they will be placing a note on Kaz's passport that denotes that he is different from the other children and must carry a long form birth certificate, along with notarized letters attesting that we "share" custody.
We don't have to do that for the other children.
Even though Kaz can speak and discuss and argue points as perfectly as an adult can. He stays in the house by himself. He has a cellphone. He can go on the subway by himself. He has his own bank account and manages his own money. If a cop or a customs officer asked him if he was with the right person, he'd answer properly.
Even though Mac is pretty naive at eight, not old enough to stay alone even for five minutes, and Julius is small enough for someone to pick up and carry away---no one will ever ask who their parents are or if they are at risk for being kidnapped.
None of it matters, because their slutty mother wasn't married before she gave birth to the first kid. Sigh....well at least I'm in good company. heh
I pick up the passports on December 2nd. Supposedly. We'll see.
Final bit o anxiety....I made the mistake of trusting someone I've known for years in the meat world with my add diagnosis. I came out and it was a dumb mistake, now they won't speak to me. Won't return emails or phone calls. I'm no longer a person to them. Back in the closet for me. Just praying this person won't out me now.
Scuse me, I need to go be scared of my own shadow now....
Friday, November 14, 2008
Mother of the Year
Julius is teething like mad this evening, quite inconsolable. I rock him and shush him and swaddle him for a long long time.
He is very tired but can't sleep and I'm in his room nursing him for what seems like forever.
Finally his body goes limp and he dreams. I gently lay him in the crib and step back.
Directly onto my glass of wine.
My baby nursery smells like a cheap boozecan.
Lovely
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
I don't want to do anything
I have paperwork and organizing and emailing and a zillion other things to do, and frankly I'd rather not do any of it.
Is it bad that I just want to curl up and pretend the universe isn't doing anything, and it doesn't matter if I ever get my calendar and contacts up to date?
And I'm behind on blogs too, because I just can't keep up with NaBloMoPo reading, never mind commenting, and I haven't even started in on Christmas preparation. I am annoyed at how my blog looks and I'd love to do a makeover and update my blog list and what have you, but that would be risky and require concentration and I'm just plain out of that. (Even if I hired someone to do it, they'd likely want me to tell them what to do, and I have NO creative ideas right now, none.) My husband wants me to get some things done around the house, like get the dining room chairs repaired, but that requires an entire day long separation from the baby or schlepping him around to fabric stores, plus he wants me to go buy a new stove, but he doesn't want to pick it out. Which means I will likely buy the wrong one. And I am having more passport trouble, and I can't find a decent vacation place for Christmas for five, everything is for four. Unless we skip school and go in February or January. Crap....
I think I'm also in a bit of a bad mood because lately, I've been taking some risks and telling people what I think, gently and politely phrased, but still, being honest, and it's not always a good idea. I think the world appreciates liars better.
Mostly, it's the hot flashes. My estrogen wasn't supposed to drop this quickly while I was still breastfeeding exclusively, and yet, here I am, sweaty and hot and having temperature issues and cranky and irritated. I had some estrogen and started taking it again, but then I ran out and now I can't see my GP til next week to get a new scrip. (It's not exactly an emergency in their books...I get it, but still, crap!) Ovarian failure sucks, and not just on the pregnancy front.
Plus, the baby is up teething, or something....he just doesn't want to sleep. I can handle him getting up once at night, but 5-6 times is killing me. I don't know if his room is too cold, or the Grobag is letting his arms flap in his face. He broke out of his swaddle blanket a few weeks ago and I switched him over to the Grobag, but other than making an extra large swaddle blanket with industrial strength velcro, I have no idea what to do. He's nineteen pounds and strong as an ox, but he can't quite roll over both ways all alone, so I doubt anything will work that I buy. (He can roll over from front to back, but not quite back to front. Almost.)
Okay, I have to go do some stuff for the baptism party we are planning for him. The party I have NO motivation to plan for, but have to do since it's coming up.
I just feel like crap.
Is it bad that I just want to curl up and pretend the universe isn't doing anything, and it doesn't matter if I ever get my calendar and contacts up to date?
And I'm behind on blogs too, because I just can't keep up with NaBloMoPo reading, never mind commenting, and I haven't even started in on Christmas preparation. I am annoyed at how my blog looks and I'd love to do a makeover and update my blog list and what have you, but that would be risky and require concentration and I'm just plain out of that. (Even if I hired someone to do it, they'd likely want me to tell them what to do, and I have NO creative ideas right now, none.) My husband wants me to get some things done around the house, like get the dining room chairs repaired, but that requires an entire day long separation from the baby or schlepping him around to fabric stores, plus he wants me to go buy a new stove, but he doesn't want to pick it out. Which means I will likely buy the wrong one. And I am having more passport trouble, and I can't find a decent vacation place for Christmas for five, everything is for four. Unless we skip school and go in February or January. Crap....
I think I'm also in a bit of a bad mood because lately, I've been taking some risks and telling people what I think, gently and politely phrased, but still, being honest, and it's not always a good idea. I think the world appreciates liars better.
Mostly, it's the hot flashes. My estrogen wasn't supposed to drop this quickly while I was still breastfeeding exclusively, and yet, here I am, sweaty and hot and having temperature issues and cranky and irritated. I had some estrogen and started taking it again, but then I ran out and now I can't see my GP til next week to get a new scrip. (It's not exactly an emergency in their books...I get it, but still, crap!) Ovarian failure sucks, and not just on the pregnancy front.
Plus, the baby is up teething, or something....he just doesn't want to sleep. I can handle him getting up once at night, but 5-6 times is killing me. I don't know if his room is too cold, or the Grobag is letting his arms flap in his face. He broke out of his swaddle blanket a few weeks ago and I switched him over to the Grobag, but other than making an extra large swaddle blanket with industrial strength velcro, I have no idea what to do. He's nineteen pounds and strong as an ox, but he can't quite roll over both ways all alone, so I doubt anything will work that I buy. (He can roll over from front to back, but not quite back to front. Almost.)
Okay, I have to go do some stuff for the baptism party we are planning for him. The party I have NO motivation to plan for, but have to do since it's coming up.
I just feel like crap.
Monday, November 10, 2008
This could be hilarious, or not
I have had an anxiety ridden week, and today didn't help. I spent the morning trying to get the final reports for the kid's schools. (For that much freakin' money, you'd think typos would be verboten, no? Guess not.) My nanny called in sick at the last minute and Julius is teething and cranky and tired. Plus, I was still recovering from my overindulgence Saturday night at a friends' cocktail party, which is a hell of a story actually.
I had only had a glass or twoish to drink and was gossiping and laughing and enjoying myself until I made the mistake of talking politics with two young obnoxious Liberal types. After that conversation I HAD to get hammered.
Don't get me wrong, I was once a young Liberal, and I certainly had my moments, but honestly, these two were beyond reason.
First they were startled to hear that I knew their former political boss, since they figured I was some nobody mommy, and was good friends with a staffer they worked with, then----they actually had the fucking nerve to start putting down my friends job, acting like she was beneath them! Meanwhile, the friend in question is a hell of a lot more senior than them, and still employed there. Best part---when they lectured me on the job titles and responsibilities as if I was some moron who'd never stepped inside Queen's Park.
Such class. Amazing she's unemployed, eh?
It got better. I won't say which exact Leadership campaign they were with, but they were with either the Micheal Ignatieff campaign or the Bob Rae campaign. You guess. It will be difficult, you see both sides are once again pursuing a scorched earth policy in their desperation to win. The top guys themselves profess to be friends and are willing to vote for each other if the other falls off, but who's kidding who. Based on what I'm witnessing---these guys forgot to inform their devoted followers.
"Oh you can't vote for so and so, he's a [ insert hack hack hack, vicious dig, nasty rumour, shitty comment, mean-spirited name-calling ]."
As I told those two incredulous teenage louts, if you want my vote, you have to give me a reason to vote for your candidate. I will burn my ballot before I vote for someone who only hacks the other guy. We set up an entire leadership process based on everyone having to get along, because you want the other candidates second ballot support. Being nasty about your opponents is the surest way to lose with this process, which by the way, is why they lost last time.
So once again, Iggy and Bob are going to screw themselves. Sigh---I am so sick of hearing about how they each deserve to win just because:
a. they have highbrow parents and grandparents and brothers and pedigrees (this one drives me round the bend. I just have this visceral reaction, and I start yelling, "You aren't better than me you fuckers") Not a logical reaction, but the one I can't get rid of. It likely stems from the whole bastard unmarried parents raised in poverty thing, but it could just be that I'm not an imperalist.)
b. they were supposed to win last time. (WTF? I missed the secret voting koolaid, sorry.)
c. if they had won leadership last time, then we would have won the election. (HAH, double HAH, the Tories had $30 million dollars to blow on ads and to hire the most vicious Republican campaign consultants money can buy, and honey, for $30 mill, those guys can make you think your own grandmother is a serial killer. It will happen to everyone who runs. Except Jesus. By-the-by, did I tell you the rumour that Mary wasn't really a virgin? New ad: Alleged Terrorist and insurrectionist Jesus Hussein Christ seen pallin' around with slutty teen. There are Youtube videos! P0rn!)
d. They "look like" Prime Ministers. (Umm, I think Obama may be rewriting that rule dudes.)
Anyway, I can actually forget all this and move on, if any of the leadership candidates, Bob or Iggy, or whomever runs, can tell me why I should vote for them in the future. Like, screw the past, what have you done for me lately?
Like are any of them willing to pull an Obama and put forth a bill on Stillbirth Research and data gathering? Considering we have some of the poorest statistics gathering on maternal-fetal health in the world it might be reasonable to say--count them. We count cancer tumours and bacteria through public health. We track them like mad. But pregnancy loss? Oh no, must keep head in sand. Barack Obama, in the middle of running for President, sponsored that bill in the Senate. He isn't afraid of deadbaby mamas.
So maybe this time, when I pitch each and every one of the candidates on infertility and pregnancy care and maternal infant fetal health, they could stop and think and respond a little. Instead of running away freaking out, "Ahhhhh, dead baby lady, ahhhhhhhh" I mean, it's not infectious.
Anyway, this should be an interesting ride. Convention is in May, in Vancouver. At minimum, I'm going to get to meet some of my fave bloggers. I'll keep you all updated about the reactions I get to my pitches.
I can see it now, "Hi, I'm Aurelia, and if you want my vote, we have to talk about vaginas, and I'm sorry to say, not in the fun way." Yep, they'll be lining up to see me, hehe.
I had only had a glass or twoish to drink and was gossiping and laughing and enjoying myself until I made the mistake of talking politics with two young obnoxious Liberal types. After that conversation I HAD to get hammered.
Don't get me wrong, I was once a young Liberal, and I certainly had my moments, but honestly, these two were beyond reason.
First they were startled to hear that I knew their former political boss, since they figured I was some nobody mommy, and was good friends with a staffer they worked with, then----they actually had the fucking nerve to start putting down my friends job, acting like she was beneath them! Meanwhile, the friend in question is a hell of a lot more senior than them, and still employed there. Best part---when they lectured me on the job titles and responsibilities as if I was some moron who'd never stepped inside Queen's Park.
Such class. Amazing she's unemployed, eh?
It got better. I won't say which exact Leadership campaign they were with, but they were with either the Micheal Ignatieff campaign or the Bob Rae campaign. You guess. It will be difficult, you see both sides are once again pursuing a scorched earth policy in their desperation to win. The top guys themselves profess to be friends and are willing to vote for each other if the other falls off, but who's kidding who. Based on what I'm witnessing---these guys forgot to inform their devoted followers.
"Oh you can't vote for so and so, he's a [ insert hack hack hack, vicious dig, nasty rumour, shitty comment, mean-spirited name-calling ]."
As I told those two incredulous teenage louts, if you want my vote, you have to give me a reason to vote for your candidate. I will burn my ballot before I vote for someone who only hacks the other guy. We set up an entire leadership process based on everyone having to get along, because you want the other candidates second ballot support. Being nasty about your opponents is the surest way to lose with this process, which by the way, is why they lost last time.
So once again, Iggy and Bob are going to screw themselves. Sigh---I am so sick of hearing about how they each deserve to win just because:
a. they have highbrow parents and grandparents and brothers and pedigrees (this one drives me round the bend. I just have this visceral reaction, and I start yelling, "You aren't better than me you fuckers") Not a logical reaction, but the one I can't get rid of. It likely stems from the whole bastard unmarried parents raised in poverty thing, but it could just be that I'm not an imperalist.)
b. they were supposed to win last time. (WTF? I missed the secret voting koolaid, sorry.)
c. if they had won leadership last time, then we would have won the election. (HAH, double HAH, the Tories had $30 million dollars to blow on ads and to hire the most vicious Republican campaign consultants money can buy, and honey, for $30 mill, those guys can make you think your own grandmother is a serial killer. It will happen to everyone who runs. Except Jesus. By-the-by, did I tell you the rumour that Mary wasn't really a virgin? New ad: Alleged Terrorist and insurrectionist Jesus Hussein Christ seen pallin' around with slutty teen. There are Youtube videos! P0rn!)
d. They "look like" Prime Ministers. (Umm, I think Obama may be rewriting that rule dudes.)
Anyway, I can actually forget all this and move on, if any of the leadership candidates, Bob or Iggy, or whomever runs, can tell me why I should vote for them in the future. Like, screw the past, what have you done for me lately?
Like are any of them willing to pull an Obama and put forth a bill on Stillbirth Research and data gathering? Considering we have some of the poorest statistics gathering on maternal-fetal health in the world it might be reasonable to say--count them. We count cancer tumours and bacteria through public health. We track them like mad. But pregnancy loss? Oh no, must keep head in sand. Barack Obama, in the middle of running for President, sponsored that bill in the Senate. He isn't afraid of deadbaby mamas.
So maybe this time, when I pitch each and every one of the candidates on infertility and pregnancy care and maternal infant fetal health, they could stop and think and respond a little. Instead of running away freaking out, "Ahhhhh, dead baby lady, ahhhhhhhh" I mean, it's not infectious.
Anyway, this should be an interesting ride. Convention is in May, in Vancouver. At minimum, I'm going to get to meet some of my fave bloggers. I'll keep you all updated about the reactions I get to my pitches.
I can see it now, "Hi, I'm Aurelia, and if you want my vote, we have to talk about vaginas, and I'm sorry to say, not in the fun way." Yep, they'll be lining up to see me, hehe.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
nope, not me
I'm not blogging about the US election, since every last personal blogger I read has already written about it. For once, the shoe is on the other foot, and I am secretly full of glee about it. See, I know that every time I blog about politics, you all roll your eyes and wonder, "What the hell is she talking about now?" and "Not again, can't she just talk about her vagina like the rest of us do?"
So about my vagina....
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
HA FOOLED YOU.
No vajayjays here. Move along now.
*Chuckle at own joke*
Got that out of my system, now can I just say that this helmet business is no fun? My darling babies' ears are uneven and his head slants forward slightly and there is a dent in the back. I know because many measurements and pictures were taken, and then a very nice Orthotics person at Sick Kids explained to my incredulous husband that it was a moderate dent, (as opposed to mild or severe) but definitely there and that Julius would look like this for life if we didn't do it, and that he would never properly fit bicycle helmets or hockey helmets without extra padding and fitting, and that yes it was cosmetic, but it is so noticeable that it would not be covered up by hair.
Now picture me and the nanny sitting in the corner looking at each other in horror because we can't believe that could happen to OUR Julius, and we can't believe the grilling that Mr.Cotta is giving to the guy, like somehow Ortho's in it for the profit and is running around sticking helmets on perfectly good heads just to make a quick buck. Gah.....not that I want a helmet either, but once the guy confirmed that the aggressive head positioning we were engaged in was doing nothing, *weeps* I decided to just say do it. And in the end, so did Mr.C.
So what if we have to spend the next 6 months hidden indoors praying that no one ever looks funny at us. Or points their fingers at us. Or laughs at us. Or makes my mother bear instincts come out. Cause I'm bad like that. I'm the woman with the tire iron in her purse who goes nuclear if someone looks mean at her kid. Sigh....not cool. *Must control self*
Oh, and about my last posts---after much researching, and talking to a few people IRL I have discovered that when the word "gifted" comes up many many many people begin to act like assholes and apparently the advice I'm supposed to follow is to never talk about it IRL, but instead only on firewalled passworded forums so that random trolls do not call me a grasping/boasting/stage/managing/faker/elitist/pushy mother. (Yes, some people actually say that mean shit!)
But since I'm already the adoptee who talks not so nicely about adoption, and the infertile who talks about vaginas, and the grieving mama who talks about dead babies, and the pro-choice woman who aborted a wanted & loved but dying child, and the crazy hyper chick with ADD who gladly takes speed and tells the world that ritalin rocks and trolls everywhere haven't kicked my ass off the net just yet---oh fuck it, I may as well talk about this here too.
Specially since my real life friends are having funny reactions, and God do I need to vent.
One lady--lovely kind, encouraging.
Next one--helpful, kind of vague, then started telling me how that's the new "in" thing, and was this a new trend? Is that why I "did it?" I'm like--"Did what? Huh?"
Another---jealous beyond description and so desperate to compare numbers against her own kid and herself, that she started to breathe funny. Then starts to tell me how she knows EVERYTHING about gifted kids and everyone in her family is gifted and they are all experts and I must do it all HER way and this is the perfect school, not the one we are in. Froth is forming at the corners of her mouth....I back slowly away.....
An education professional---tells me I should give up on the entire system and homeschool. Commence eyerolling. I would suck at that. I know me well enough to know that for sure!
For me, it's sort of like I thought my kid was a duck, a nice little duck, and then one day I take him to a Doctor and he turns out to be a completely different animal like an octopus, but everyone around me is saying, hey great, he's like a swan! But he isn't a swan, he's an octopus.
Meanwhile, I have no books and no training on how to raise an octopus.
Like that list of things I did that are not PC to talk about---I mostly wrote that because I wanted you all to laugh, and to know that I'm not the crazy pushy mom, and no one has to be. My kids do some sports at school, but not rep hockey or competitive swimming or anything extensive like that. They go to camp in the summer, they go to church occasionally. They eat sort of crap and sort of good. They've never done Kumon or anything like that. They go to a private school, but it's nothing fancy, they have good academics, but it's not a crazy homework place. My kids just sort of came out like this, and damned if I know how. My only enforced rule with them is that the most important thing is to be kind to others. (Ok, and no wrestling near the china cabinet.)
And really, of all the things that mystify me about this situation, it's the world's refusal to believe that the universe makes some people different, different in ways we don't understand completely, but still real, still standing here in front of me. Some of us are mentally ill, and some of us are calm and even as still waters. Isn't what matters most, what people do in the world with their very different brains?
Cause some of us have bent heads and some of us have round ones.
And some Presidents are white and some Presidents are black, but what really matters in the end is if they are kind to others, right?
Right.
So about my vagina....
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
HA FOOLED YOU.
No vajayjays here. Move along now.
*Chuckle at own joke*
Got that out of my system, now can I just say that this helmet business is no fun? My darling babies' ears are uneven and his head slants forward slightly and there is a dent in the back. I know because many measurements and pictures were taken, and then a very nice Orthotics person at Sick Kids explained to my incredulous husband that it was a moderate dent, (as opposed to mild or severe) but definitely there and that Julius would look like this for life if we didn't do it, and that he would never properly fit bicycle helmets or hockey helmets without extra padding and fitting, and that yes it was cosmetic, but it is so noticeable that it would not be covered up by hair.
Now picture me and the nanny sitting in the corner looking at each other in horror because we can't believe that could happen to OUR Julius, and we can't believe the grilling that Mr.Cotta is giving to the guy, like somehow Ortho's in it for the profit and is running around sticking helmets on perfectly good heads just to make a quick buck. Gah.....not that I want a helmet either, but once the guy confirmed that the aggressive head positioning we were engaged in was doing nothing, *weeps* I decided to just say do it. And in the end, so did Mr.C.
So what if we have to spend the next 6 months hidden indoors praying that no one ever looks funny at us. Or points their fingers at us. Or laughs at us. Or makes my mother bear instincts come out. Cause I'm bad like that. I'm the woman with the tire iron in her purse who goes nuclear if someone looks mean at her kid. Sigh....not cool. *Must control self*
Oh, and about my last posts---after much researching, and talking to a few people IRL I have discovered that when the word "gifted" comes up many many many people begin to act like assholes and apparently the advice I'm supposed to follow is to never talk about it IRL, but instead only on firewalled passworded forums so that random trolls do not call me a grasping/boasting/stage/managing/faker/elitist/pushy mother. (Yes, some people actually say that mean shit!)
But since I'm already the adoptee who talks not so nicely about adoption, and the infertile who talks about vaginas, and the grieving mama who talks about dead babies, and the pro-choice woman who aborted a wanted & loved but dying child, and the crazy hyper chick with ADD who gladly takes speed and tells the world that ritalin rocks and trolls everywhere haven't kicked my ass off the net just yet---oh fuck it, I may as well talk about this here too.
Specially since my real life friends are having funny reactions, and God do I need to vent.
One lady--lovely kind, encouraging.
Next one--helpful, kind of vague, then started telling me how that's the new "in" thing, and was this a new trend? Is that why I "did it?" I'm like--"Did what? Huh?"
Another---jealous beyond description and so desperate to compare numbers against her own kid and herself, that she started to breathe funny. Then starts to tell me how she knows EVERYTHING about gifted kids and everyone in her family is gifted and they are all experts and I must do it all HER way and this is the perfect school, not the one we are in. Froth is forming at the corners of her mouth....I back slowly away.....
An education professional---tells me I should give up on the entire system and homeschool. Commence eyerolling. I would suck at that. I know me well enough to know that for sure!
For me, it's sort of like I thought my kid was a duck, a nice little duck, and then one day I take him to a Doctor and he turns out to be a completely different animal like an octopus, but everyone around me is saying, hey great, he's like a swan! But he isn't a swan, he's an octopus.
Meanwhile, I have no books and no training on how to raise an octopus.
Like that list of things I did that are not PC to talk about---I mostly wrote that because I wanted you all to laugh, and to know that I'm not the crazy pushy mom, and no one has to be. My kids do some sports at school, but not rep hockey or competitive swimming or anything extensive like that. They go to camp in the summer, they go to church occasionally. They eat sort of crap and sort of good. They've never done Kumon or anything like that. They go to a private school, but it's nothing fancy, they have good academics, but it's not a crazy homework place. My kids just sort of came out like this, and damned if I know how. My only enforced rule with them is that the most important thing is to be kind to others. (Ok, and no wrestling near the china cabinet.)
And really, of all the things that mystify me about this situation, it's the world's refusal to believe that the universe makes some people different, different in ways we don't understand completely, but still real, still standing here in front of me. Some of us are mentally ill, and some of us are calm and even as still waters. Isn't what matters most, what people do in the world with their very different brains?
Cause some of us have bent heads and some of us have round ones.
And some Presidents are white and some Presidents are black, but what really matters in the end is if they are kind to others, right?
Right.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Still chewing this over
About Kaz being severely gifted....still weirded out. I thought that the psychologist sort of made this word up, but no, apparently it's a real thing. Once again Dr.Google is being most helpful. As are all of you. (Thank you thank you thank you----I love my friends in the computer!) I think I'm just not sure what the hell I'm supposed to do, and a lot of the information from Google I've found is American. Mostly because if there is information in Ontario, it's not loads. (Yes, I did find the link Lori mentioned, one bright lite!)
Why would we do anything about it? Well, so far I'm reading that there is a lot of evidence that kids like this can end up with serious socio-emotional problems if they are not challenged and encouraged the right way. (Question still to be answered: What is the right way?) For example, lots of them are so scared of sticking out of the crowd, they hide their gifts and pretend to be average just to fit in. Others become bored as hell and get in trouble. Many become perfectionists and get so anxious about their academic performance they become paralyzed and end up not even getting an education.
I went to the Ontario Ministry of Education website, and found sweet dick all. Apparently there are a lot of resources for the other end of the spectrum and lots for anyone who is average range of intelligence and has various LD, but almost zero for a kid who could do an entire credit of math in one day, instead of the minimum mandated 110 hours. Even if the psychologist, and we as his parents, and he himself, and the teachers and the principal all agree, it's hideously difficult to do. Apparently things are a little rigid that way....
We're not making any decisions yet, but I'm a little disgruntled to discover that some options are less easy than others. Then again, why should anything be easy?
Good things about this diagnosis:
I no longer feel guilty about the forceps at birth, the meconium, the untreated reflux, the time I dropped him, the time my husband dropped him, the times I didn't run fast enough to get him when he cried, the times I couldn't pump enough breastmilk for cereal or babysitting and he had to have some formula, the times he had diaper rash because I didn't change his diaper often enough, the eczema he had that I had forgot to rub cream on, the time he fell down the flight of stairs, the home daycare I left him in, the casual neighbourhood babysitters I left him with before that, the really great daycare centre I left him in that was still DAYCARE aka Teh root of all evil, the times when I was a stay at home mom who didn't know what the hell I was doing, the excessively lengthy amount of children's and adult television he watched, the insane amount of time he spent in the car commuting, the playdates I neglected to set up, the piano practice he had to do while Mac screamed at the top of his lungs, the playground visits we didn't do as much as the neighbours did, the times I worked outside the home, the times I stayed at home, the wine I drank, the germs I gave him, the genes I gave him, the McDonald's/pizza/transfat-ridden/allergy-infested fast food insta meals I fed him, the ritalin/concerta/adderall aka Teh second root of all evil that I gave him, the time he spent playing computer games, video games, gameboy games, and of course, making him go through all of our fertility and babyloss adventures when he was old enough to know what was going on.
And yes, I'm kind of making it sound funny/weird, but really, these are all things I have felt guilty about. Sort of why I always tell all of you to stop feeling guilty when you blog about this stuff.
Sigh....all that crap, all that stress, and somehow in spite of the fact that he's the kid we made all the mistakes on, he's got game.
Thank God, because Julius is going to see the helmet people about his bent head Monday morning and I'm so nervous I feel sick. But maybe a flathead won't matter either?
Why would we do anything about it? Well, so far I'm reading that there is a lot of evidence that kids like this can end up with serious socio-emotional problems if they are not challenged and encouraged the right way. (Question still to be answered: What is the right way?) For example, lots of them are so scared of sticking out of the crowd, they hide their gifts and pretend to be average just to fit in. Others become bored as hell and get in trouble. Many become perfectionists and get so anxious about their academic performance they become paralyzed and end up not even getting an education.
I went to the Ontario Ministry of Education website, and found sweet dick all. Apparently there are a lot of resources for the other end of the spectrum and lots for anyone who is average range of intelligence and has various LD, but almost zero for a kid who could do an entire credit of math in one day, instead of the minimum mandated 110 hours. Even if the psychologist, and we as his parents, and he himself, and the teachers and the principal all agree, it's hideously difficult to do. Apparently things are a little rigid that way....
We're not making any decisions yet, but I'm a little disgruntled to discover that some options are less easy than others. Then again, why should anything be easy?
Good things about this diagnosis:
I no longer feel guilty about the forceps at birth, the meconium, the untreated reflux, the time I dropped him, the time my husband dropped him, the times I didn't run fast enough to get him when he cried, the times I couldn't pump enough breastmilk for cereal or babysitting and he had to have some formula, the times he had diaper rash because I didn't change his diaper often enough, the eczema he had that I had forgot to rub cream on, the time he fell down the flight of stairs, the home daycare I left him in, the casual neighbourhood babysitters I left him with before that, the really great daycare centre I left him in that was still DAYCARE aka Teh root of all evil, the times when I was a stay at home mom who didn't know what the hell I was doing, the excessively lengthy amount of children's and adult television he watched, the insane amount of time he spent in the car commuting, the playdates I neglected to set up, the piano practice he had to do while Mac screamed at the top of his lungs, the playground visits we didn't do as much as the neighbours did, the times I worked outside the home, the times I stayed at home, the wine I drank, the germs I gave him, the genes I gave him, the McDonald's/pizza/transfat-ridden/allergy-infested fast food insta meals I fed him, the ritalin/concerta/adderall aka Teh second root of all evil that I gave him, the time he spent playing computer games, video games, gameboy games, and of course, making him go through all of our fertility and babyloss adventures when he was old enough to know what was going on.
And yes, I'm kind of making it sound funny/weird, but really, these are all things I have felt guilty about. Sort of why I always tell all of you to stop feeling guilty when you blog about this stuff.
Sigh....all that crap, all that stress, and somehow in spite of the fact that he's the kid we made all the mistakes on, he's got game.
Thank God, because Julius is going to see the helmet people about his bent head Monday morning and I'm so nervous I feel sick. But maybe a flathead won't matter either?
Friday, October 31, 2008
In case any of you need this....
Thought I'd just share an idea a friend passed on to me...Kaz is going to do this for Halloween night, although he is still trying to figure out if it's cool to wear at costume at 12! (I think it is, but to him?) Mac is going out as Mario from Nintendo, and Julius is going to be a pumpkin. (All babies are pumpkins I think....)
Anyway, if you are looking for a cheap, easy to do, last minute adult or child costume, that is unique, get a pair of dark pants, a dark long sleeved shirt, a bunch of safety pins, a pile of socks, mismatched, and left overs are great. Pin the socks all over the shirt and pants, trying to make sure they are not in pairs, but are random.
And voila!
You are "The place in the dryer where lost socks go!"
Feel free to copy, he's likely going to be too cool to do it...eyeroll...
Anyway, if you are looking for a cheap, easy to do, last minute adult or child costume, that is unique, get a pair of dark pants, a dark long sleeved shirt, a bunch of safety pins, a pile of socks, mismatched, and left overs are great. Pin the socks all over the shirt and pants, trying to make sure they are not in pairs, but are random.
And voila!
You are "The place in the dryer where lost socks go!"
Feel free to copy, he's likely going to be too cool to do it...eyeroll...
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Okayyyyy
I have no idea what to do about the kids assessment results, so I have to ask all my expert buddies out on the net.
We expected them both to be ADHD, (insert guilt) and we expected them both to be smart. (Burst with pride), and we knew that Kaz was gifted in math, but not overall, and it was like, no big whoop. You know, like, hey great in one class he gets all A s?
Kind of a counterbalance to his poor marks in writing right?
But Mac and Kaz are both overall gifted, and if we start Mac on ADD meds his tests will go much much higher.
And he will be like Kaz, who it turns out is severely gifted, profoundly so. The psychologist said that kids like this are very rare, and he has only seen these kinds of test scores a few times in his forty years. It's like he could either graduate from Harvard at 14 or become the Unabomber. It all depends on how we as his parents go forward.
I wasn't expecting this, that's for sure.
I'm kind of scared. I'm really shocked.
Any ideas?
We expected them both to be ADHD, (insert guilt) and we expected them both to be smart. (Burst with pride), and we knew that Kaz was gifted in math, but not overall, and it was like, no big whoop. You know, like, hey great in one class he gets all A s?
Kind of a counterbalance to his poor marks in writing right?
But Mac and Kaz are both overall gifted, and if we start Mac on ADD meds his tests will go much much higher.
And he will be like Kaz, who it turns out is severely gifted, profoundly so. The psychologist said that kids like this are very rare, and he has only seen these kinds of test scores a few times in his forty years. It's like he could either graduate from Harvard at 14 or become the Unabomber. It all depends on how we as his parents go forward.
I wasn't expecting this, that's for sure.
I'm kind of scared. I'm really shocked.
Any ideas?
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
I've got lots of stressful things going on, so I may as well list them, best therapy ever I think. (And thank you for the comments on my previous post btw. Thank you thank you thank you.)
Tomorrow we find out what the test results are on the boys, and how we have to deal with them. I'm dreading it because I know I'll just feel guilty in the end. My fault, etc. More on that after tomorrow's appt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Good news: Kaz's first preliminary report card came out and it's great, all A's.
Bad news: that's because the new school with the provincial curriculum is so stupidly easy, he doesn't have to make any effort at all. Not exactly good for his character IMO. I wanted it to be easier when he hit university, not now....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My husband's brother P is in worse and worse shape over in Europe. He seems to have burned through all of his money, isn't taking any of his meds, (or if he is, they are the wrong ones!), and he is very very ill, and may be homeless soon. He is only allowed to see his children under supervision, because of his previous actions, and has no friends there. He won't admit to having any problems, and insists that everyone else is the cause of all of his difficulties. Could his marriage and divorce have been handled better? Sure...and the industry he was in has had major financial problems, but neither of those things made him ignore his mental illness or become an alcoholic. I just wish that my husband did not have to bear the brunt of his abuse and anger.
The hardest thing on earth to do is watch someone you love die inch by inch.
Is it bad that I just wish this was over one way or another? That he would either get better and be perfectly fine, or not, with all that implies?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Julius is waking up several times a night due to the cold wind whipping through our windows. But since we are still six months away from any renovations what with permits and drawings, etc. I can't justify spending the money to fix them. Really, I might be ripping it out right away, right?
So we have plastic over the windows....not exactly the classy image I was hoping for, sigh....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I did have some good news, my not very formal effort to diet is paying off and I've lost a few inches on my waist. My jeans are loose and have to be held up with a belt! That good news was quashed by an irritating encounter on Saturday when TWO different people casually gestured towards my stomach and asked pregnancy related questions.
As if I was STILL pregnant.
And the baby is FIVE MONTHS OLD.
Honestly, that really crushed me, because it's not like I'm the only mom in the world who has extra weight, but sometimes I think that I am the only woman who has so much on her stomach. But should that matter? Isn't it incredibly rude for anyone to do that?
And why do I let jerks suck all the joy out of my life?
I think that's the real question.
Tomorrow we find out what the test results are on the boys, and how we have to deal with them. I'm dreading it because I know I'll just feel guilty in the end. My fault, etc. More on that after tomorrow's appt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Good news: Kaz's first preliminary report card came out and it's great, all A's.
Bad news: that's because the new school with the provincial curriculum is so stupidly easy, he doesn't have to make any effort at all. Not exactly good for his character IMO. I wanted it to be easier when he hit university, not now....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My husband's brother P is in worse and worse shape over in Europe. He seems to have burned through all of his money, isn't taking any of his meds, (or if he is, they are the wrong ones!), and he is very very ill, and may be homeless soon. He is only allowed to see his children under supervision, because of his previous actions, and has no friends there. He won't admit to having any problems, and insists that everyone else is the cause of all of his difficulties. Could his marriage and divorce have been handled better? Sure...and the industry he was in has had major financial problems, but neither of those things made him ignore his mental illness or become an alcoholic. I just wish that my husband did not have to bear the brunt of his abuse and anger.
The hardest thing on earth to do is watch someone you love die inch by inch.
Is it bad that I just wish this was over one way or another? That he would either get better and be perfectly fine, or not, with all that implies?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Julius is waking up several times a night due to the cold wind whipping through our windows. But since we are still six months away from any renovations what with permits and drawings, etc. I can't justify spending the money to fix them. Really, I might be ripping it out right away, right?
So we have plastic over the windows....not exactly the classy image I was hoping for, sigh....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I did have some good news, my not very formal effort to diet is paying off and I've lost a few inches on my waist. My jeans are loose and have to be held up with a belt! That good news was quashed by an irritating encounter on Saturday when TWO different people casually gestured towards my stomach and asked pregnancy related questions.
As if I was STILL pregnant.
And the baby is FIVE MONTHS OLD.
Honestly, that really crushed me, because it's not like I'm the only mom in the world who has extra weight, but sometimes I think that I am the only woman who has so much on her stomach. But should that matter? Isn't it incredibly rude for anyone to do that?
And why do I let jerks suck all the joy out of my life?
I think that's the real question.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Ups and downs
I just realized that I haven't posted in a while, so I thought I would let you all know what's going on.
Basically, for months now I have been rather disorganized and behind the eight ball. Pretty confused as well. Just before I had the baby I went off my ADHD/ADD medications since I was getting tired and wanted to nap more, plus I wasn't driving as much, and really I didn't think it was helping my blood pressure.
And then after I had the baby, I was very very sick and weak for a long time. I needed to be able to sleep whenever I could and just take care of me and him and let everything else go. (I wasn't very good at that. I kept trying to do things, I'd get frustrated and realize that you were all right to tell me that I should just lie down and chill.) Eventually I did give up stressing over it, which had the unfortunate side effect of things piling up.
I gave up on physio because I could never remember to go there or do the exercises. I gave up on pretty much anything that required me to be ontime and alert. Which means that between missed birthday parties and lost opportunities, life has kind of sucked for the family at large. Nannies can only do so much, reality is that they aren't going to take charge and replace parents completely. (And I wouldn't want her to, but damn if I could teach mine to do my filing and enter all my contacts and appointments into Outlook that would be sweet!)
So here I was stumbling along, and a few days after the election I finally hit the wall.
Or more accurately, I fell back from the wall where I had been adjusting curtains, and stepped on to Julius.
Who screamed loudly, and pitifully all the way to the ER while my husband drove all of us to the hospital. I was hysterical the entire time, convinced that I was a piece of shite mother, and they were going to call CAS, and maybe they should, and boy did I ever beat myself up.
Meantime, guess which baby smiled and laughed for the doctors and nurses the second we arrived? Yep, he was fine, and I was an anxiety ridden mess. They examined him all over, pronounced him perfectly okay, and sent us home, telling me that not to worry. Ha. Commence weeping and guilt immediately in mommyland.
I realized I needed my ADD/ADHD medication again, because I hadn't even been high up. I fell back when I was only 18 inches off the ground for pete's sake! I've always been clumsier off the meds, but this is ridiculous. (My spatial awareness is pathetic, I walk into walls, trip, bash myself, it's not good. ) So I called Motherisk and made another appointment. They took me the next day, and I met with the same Doc I saw before. He was lovely and kind, and very informative. Turns out that they had some data and some studies after he had met with me, and Ritalin and Concerta or methylphenidate, only end up in breast milk in microscopic levels. It's there, but barely measurable. Apparently the breast filters it out quite well, almost completely. Adderall and Dexedrine and various amphetamines do get into breast milk but in very very small amounts, just under 10% in the breastmilk of whatever the amount in my blood level would be. S
So literally less than if I had some wine with dinner or took narcotics for pain relief after the c-section.
In the end, the risk of me screwing up life by not paying bills and accidentally hurting the kids or getting into a car accident if I'm off my medication has outweighed any tiny risk of drugs in my milk. You may wonder, why not formula? Well, both my older kids have issues, Kaz is gifted ADD/LD, and Mac likely will get a diagnoses soon. Would they be even worse if I hadn't breastfed them? I don't know, but I do know that there is lots of evidence that breast milk helps with brain development and considering the pattern the older siblings already have....hell, I'd rather keep breastfeeding, just in case it does help mitigate the risk.
So I'm back on Adderall on most days, and if I get too tired or sick then I'll skip it and get some rest, but for now, this is just the best thing for me and Julius I think. Good news, I have been filling calendars out and writing notes and paying bills and sorting receipts, in between children errands and baby and music classes.
Hopefully, I'll laugh about stepping on him one day, but I have to tell you, I'm really not there yet. Sigh...have any of you ever done anything like this? Dropped your kid, etc.? Please share, even anonymously. I need to feel like other mothers do this, not just me.
Basically, for months now I have been rather disorganized and behind the eight ball. Pretty confused as well. Just before I had the baby I went off my ADHD/ADD medications since I was getting tired and wanted to nap more, plus I wasn't driving as much, and really I didn't think it was helping my blood pressure.
And then after I had the baby, I was very very sick and weak for a long time. I needed to be able to sleep whenever I could and just take care of me and him and let everything else go. (I wasn't very good at that. I kept trying to do things, I'd get frustrated and realize that you were all right to tell me that I should just lie down and chill.) Eventually I did give up stressing over it, which had the unfortunate side effect of things piling up.
I gave up on physio because I could never remember to go there or do the exercises. I gave up on pretty much anything that required me to be ontime and alert. Which means that between missed birthday parties and lost opportunities, life has kind of sucked for the family at large. Nannies can only do so much, reality is that they aren't going to take charge and replace parents completely. (And I wouldn't want her to, but damn if I could teach mine to do my filing and enter all my contacts and appointments into Outlook that would be sweet!)
So here I was stumbling along, and a few days after the election I finally hit the wall.
Or more accurately, I fell back from the wall where I had been adjusting curtains, and stepped on to Julius.
Who screamed loudly, and pitifully all the way to the ER while my husband drove all of us to the hospital. I was hysterical the entire time, convinced that I was a piece of shite mother, and they were going to call CAS, and maybe they should, and boy did I ever beat myself up.
Meantime, guess which baby smiled and laughed for the doctors and nurses the second we arrived? Yep, he was fine, and I was an anxiety ridden mess. They examined him all over, pronounced him perfectly okay, and sent us home, telling me that not to worry. Ha. Commence weeping and guilt immediately in mommyland.
I realized I needed my ADD/ADHD medication again, because I hadn't even been high up. I fell back when I was only 18 inches off the ground for pete's sake! I've always been clumsier off the meds, but this is ridiculous. (My spatial awareness is pathetic, I walk into walls, trip, bash myself, it's not good. ) So I called Motherisk and made another appointment. They took me the next day, and I met with the same Doc I saw before. He was lovely and kind, and very informative. Turns out that they had some data and some studies after he had met with me, and Ritalin and Concerta or methylphenidate, only end up in breast milk in microscopic levels. It's there, but barely measurable. Apparently the breast filters it out quite well, almost completely. Adderall and Dexedrine and various amphetamines do get into breast milk but in very very small amounts, just under 10% in the breastmilk of whatever the amount in my blood level would be. S
So literally less than if I had some wine with dinner or took narcotics for pain relief after the c-section.
In the end, the risk of me screwing up life by not paying bills and accidentally hurting the kids or getting into a car accident if I'm off my medication has outweighed any tiny risk of drugs in my milk. You may wonder, why not formula? Well, both my older kids have issues, Kaz is gifted ADD/LD, and Mac likely will get a diagnoses soon. Would they be even worse if I hadn't breastfed them? I don't know, but I do know that there is lots of evidence that breast milk helps with brain development and considering the pattern the older siblings already have....hell, I'd rather keep breastfeeding, just in case it does help mitigate the risk.
So I'm back on Adderall on most days, and if I get too tired or sick then I'll skip it and get some rest, but for now, this is just the best thing for me and Julius I think. Good news, I have been filling calendars out and writing notes and paying bills and sorting receipts, in between children errands and baby and music classes.
Hopefully, I'll laugh about stepping on him one day, but I have to tell you, I'm really not there yet. Sigh...have any of you ever done anything like this? Dropped your kid, etc.? Please share, even anonymously. I need to feel like other mothers do this, not just me.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
October 15th
Before I go to sleep I just wanted to say that yes I have been thinking of my own lost babies and all of yours today. For more information go see www.october15th.com or check out Antigone's blog for more about Pregnancy and Infant loss Awareness Day.
Go Obama Go! I finally have politician who cares about stillbirth so maybe we can all get him elected and working for women's health.
Things you can change, and things you can't
I'm really really unhappy about how the election turned out as you can well imagine. Frankly, I think there are so many things that irritated me about this election that I can scarcely count them all. (If you want to see some interesting stuff about it, go see Rick Mercer, specifically, my fave rant of his, September 30, Season 6, RMR Rant. I can't do an imbed like on Youtube, but if you go there and check it out, especially the final bit on that video, you'll know why I love Mercer.)
That said, I'm pretty frickin tired, and after sitting on this post for an entire day and trying to write something, I have only this....
In two years I can and will help to defeat Stephen Harper. Governments come and go like clockwork and we'll get rid of him sooner or later.
But yesterday I saw some pictures of myself at my current weight, and I was disgusted with myself. I have gained weight since having the baby. And never ever in my entire life have I ever weighed this much. Never. And if I don't lose the weight soon, then I'll be keeping it on for life.
I can stand Harper for 18-24 months, but there is no fucking way on the planet that I will live my life at this weight. I hate how I look, how I feel, and how the world sees me now.
I hate this enough to change it, so I will.
That said, I'm pretty frickin tired, and after sitting on this post for an entire day and trying to write something, I have only this....
In two years I can and will help to defeat Stephen Harper. Governments come and go like clockwork and we'll get rid of him sooner or later.
But yesterday I saw some pictures of myself at my current weight, and I was disgusted with myself. I have gained weight since having the baby. And never ever in my entire life have I ever weighed this much. Never. And if I don't lose the weight soon, then I'll be keeping it on for life.
I can stand Harper for 18-24 months, but there is no fucking way on the planet that I will live my life at this weight. I hate how I look, how I feel, and how the world sees me now.
I hate this enough to change it, so I will.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Is this thing on? tap tap tap
I'm busy with election day, so I can't blog long, just wanted to tell all of my Canadian friends to go vote, and yes, you guessed it, I want you to vote Liberal, haha. Big surprise!
I'd say it anyway, but honestly, after Stephen Harper told everyone that his penis-and-vagina made family was ordinary, and that Dion's adoption made family wasn't, I fucking hate that crud headed man so much----%^&*%^@#$ that I have become inarticulate.
You aren't superior to us Stephen. And adoptees like me aren't inferior. So stick your ordinary family shtick up your ass, and ohhh I don't know, maybe discuss an actual policy issue? I keep muttering about this under my breath......must stop obsessing......
Anyway, I'm busy making food and handing out poll kits and throwing wet wadded up toilet paper at the Tory voters.
(kidding)
(sort of)
Very important thing for all of you who are parents, please, take your kids to vote and talk to them about why you should vote. They don't understand that truth in advertising laws do not apply to political ads, and they don't know what all this means. And except for a brief civics discussion at some point in school, no one teaches them about this stuff.
So take your kids to vote, even the babies. I always take my kids! If I get a picture of Julius with his first ballot, I'll post it.
*btw, is anyone having problems with bloglines, or with getting feeds? I am having serious problems with getting several different blogs, some typepad, some blogger, and I don't know if it's just me, or everyone else. Plus, something is odd with my blog, I'm suddenly out of nowhere, getting almost no hits, but it might be that statcounter is not recording them? Damn, help*
I'd say it anyway, but honestly, after Stephen Harper told everyone that his penis-and-vagina made family was ordinary, and that Dion's adoption made family wasn't, I fucking hate that crud headed man so much----%^&*%^@#$ that I have become inarticulate.
You aren't superior to us Stephen. And adoptees like me aren't inferior. So stick your ordinary family shtick up your ass, and ohhh I don't know, maybe discuss an actual policy issue? I keep muttering about this under my breath......must stop obsessing......
Anyway, I'm busy making food and handing out poll kits and throwing wet wadded up toilet paper at the Tory voters.
(kidding)
(sort of)
Very important thing for all of you who are parents, please, take your kids to vote and talk to them about why you should vote. They don't understand that truth in advertising laws do not apply to political ads, and they don't know what all this means. And except for a brief civics discussion at some point in school, no one teaches them about this stuff.
So take your kids to vote, even the babies. I always take my kids! If I get a picture of Julius with his first ballot, I'll post it.
*btw, is anyone having problems with bloglines, or with getting feeds? I am having serious problems with getting several different blogs, some typepad, some blogger, and I don't know if it's just me, or everyone else. Plus, something is odd with my blog, I'm suddenly out of nowhere, getting almost no hits, but it might be that statcounter is not recording them? Damn, help*
Friday, October 10, 2008
So frustrating
I have been madly working on the election and trying to take care of the baby, etc... while also trying to book a vacation for us for Christmas and get passports and deal with house renovations.
And people----if I meet one more $%^&* politician who does not understand the difference between a credit crisis and a recession, and why a credit crisis is worse, I'll be sick. I expect these people to know something if they are running for office. I just went to a fundraiser and honestly, everyone in the room was pissing me off. The lead politician, who we raised money for, kind of got it. He seemed to know that time was of the essence, but he didn't seem to want to do anything about it. Like he wasn't a fan of helping the banks. Which I sort of get, but kind of think is shortsighted.
I may not like doing infertility treatment, but if I don't suffer through it, I won't get to have a baby. Short term pain, long term gain toots. Do what you have to do you know?
And this one woman I spoke to today who just did NOT get it all, made me sad. Mostly because she was so unimpressive. I want to vote for a female politician who gets it, but I don't want to vote for a woman who doesn't know what the hell she is talking about, simply because she is a woman.
Sigh.....when friggin' Iceland has gone completely bankrupt maybe it's not about partisan politics anymore. Maybe we need to all work together?
For my readers, who may not understand the credit crisis either (don't get me wrong, I would not expect any of you to, I only expect professional politicians asking for my vote to get it):
In a recession, only some people are hurt. In a credit crisis everyone is hurt.
In a recession, the rich and the secure part of the middle class will be fine and if they keep spending and investing normally, then we will all be fine, because over time, they will normalize the rest of the economy, and keep most of the working class--working. Their taxes will support the poor with welfare and EI while they dig out. The guy at the grocery store will keep his job selling food, and the woman who ships the food from the wholesaler will keep her job, and the farmer will keep his job because everyone needs to eat, and he gets to sell his stuff to the wholesaler. It's bumpy along the way and not everyone gets the price they want, and some people are in debt over their heads or unemployed and they go bankrupt---but generally it works through the bumps.
In a credit crisis, the farmer wants to sell but will not sell his food to the wholesaler because he can't be sure that the wholesaler's cheque will pass. He has no faith in the bank the cheque is written from. If the wholesaler can give him cash, he might sell the food. The wholesaler might be able to pay with some cash, but he doesn't get paid until the retailer gives him money, so not much is on hand.
And so it goes down the road....each person in the chain refusing to take credit and only willing to take cash, and only cash from some countries, and not others. So the retailer cannot put food on the shelves.
In the end, the rich people, and the secure section of the middle class, goes to the grocery store, and looks on the shelves, and sees---nothing to buy. No matter how much money they have in their wallet, there is no food to buy, at any price.
I hope you guys know how to grow your own food, because I sure as hell don't know how this ends.
That is why every bank and every blue chip company needs to be backed up temporarily by the government until we all start to trust each other again. Personally, I think that all the bankers should be sent to therapy for the next few months. I know a few who are currently sitting in a corner curled in the fetal position, gibbering like idiots. Sad....they used to be so professional looking and all....
Anyway, on to other subjects. I am currently working on passports for us all. I actually had to get baby Julius a passport photo of all things! Little bugger kept smiling at the photographer. He refused to "keep a neutral expression on his face." We finally got one, but I don't know if it's good enough. I guess Passport Canada will just have to suck it up, eh? The solution to my passport woes has been pretty simple. I am now working on the assumption that I will never ever be elected to public office due to my long history of teh imperfection. So who cares if I and every other adoptee in Canada is required to lie on their federal documents in writing? Technically I'm committing an indictable offense, because every time I write down my adoptive name as my "name at birth" I'm lying on federal documents. (unlike in Ontario, where they specifically write in a rule that allows for adoptive names)
But since only perfect white men are allowed to run in winnable ridings and certainly not a former crazy woman like me, who cares? Fuck it, I want to go lie in the sun, and at some point I'll just have to hire a lawyer to mount a defense.
In the meantime, the bigger problem is how to deal with the kid's passports. I finally got the baby's long form birth certificate, required due to the repugnant bastard rule. (Since Mr.C. and I were not married when Kaz was born, all our children must carry proof of who their parents are whenever crossing borders.) The simple way to fix this issue btw, is to require that all children have the names of their legal custodial parents entered into their passports, so that no child is ever labelled a bastard by their own government. Yes, you could just strike down the law since it does violate the Charter, but to protect the tiny number of kids who are in a family kidnapping situation, it makes more sense to just treat everyone the same. Precisely the same. So that no one can ever tell who is born inside of marriage and who is born outside of marriage.
Everyone I speak to thinks this is horrendous, but for now, I am stuck. I figure I'll file a lawsuit after the kids get their passports.
So toots, I am going to try to enjoy my weekend, and see if I can get my husband to look at some vacation brochures and architectural pictures. Thanksgiving is upon us, and Sunday we're having 15 people over again. (Thank God for Whole Foods catering and the ability to hire people to help tidy up.) Monday is tidy up day here at the house and a day off from school for the kids, and then Tuesday is Election Day. We're hosting a home centre for our local Liberal candidate, hopefully he wins, but who knows? We thought the Liberals were sunk, but Dion seems to have pulled it out of the hat and his numbers are climbing.
More later....I have to go fill out the last of the forms.
*Last second update before posting: I just got a call for an appointment at the helmet clinic at Sick Kids for Boo-boo, and now I'm the one in the corner curled in a fetal position gibbering like a baboon....more later.
And people----if I meet one more $%^&* politician who does not understand the difference between a credit crisis and a recession, and why a credit crisis is worse, I'll be sick. I expect these people to know something if they are running for office. I just went to a fundraiser and honestly, everyone in the room was pissing me off. The lead politician, who we raised money for, kind of got it. He seemed to know that time was of the essence, but he didn't seem to want to do anything about it. Like he wasn't a fan of helping the banks. Which I sort of get, but kind of think is shortsighted.
I may not like doing infertility treatment, but if I don't suffer through it, I won't get to have a baby. Short term pain, long term gain toots. Do what you have to do you know?
And this one woman I spoke to today who just did NOT get it all, made me sad. Mostly because she was so unimpressive. I want to vote for a female politician who gets it, but I don't want to vote for a woman who doesn't know what the hell she is talking about, simply because she is a woman.
Sigh.....when friggin' Iceland has gone completely bankrupt maybe it's not about partisan politics anymore. Maybe we need to all work together?
For my readers, who may not understand the credit crisis either (don't get me wrong, I would not expect any of you to, I only expect professional politicians asking for my vote to get it):
In a recession, only some people are hurt. In a credit crisis everyone is hurt.
In a recession, the rich and the secure part of the middle class will be fine and if they keep spending and investing normally, then we will all be fine, because over time, they will normalize the rest of the economy, and keep most of the working class--working. Their taxes will support the poor with welfare and EI while they dig out. The guy at the grocery store will keep his job selling food, and the woman who ships the food from the wholesaler will keep her job, and the farmer will keep his job because everyone needs to eat, and he gets to sell his stuff to the wholesaler. It's bumpy along the way and not everyone gets the price they want, and some people are in debt over their heads or unemployed and they go bankrupt---but generally it works through the bumps.
In a credit crisis, the farmer wants to sell but will not sell his food to the wholesaler because he can't be sure that the wholesaler's cheque will pass. He has no faith in the bank the cheque is written from. If the wholesaler can give him cash, he might sell the food. The wholesaler might be able to pay with some cash, but he doesn't get paid until the retailer gives him money, so not much is on hand.
And so it goes down the road....each person in the chain refusing to take credit and only willing to take cash, and only cash from some countries, and not others. So the retailer cannot put food on the shelves.
In the end, the rich people, and the secure section of the middle class, goes to the grocery store, and looks on the shelves, and sees---nothing to buy. No matter how much money they have in their wallet, there is no food to buy, at any price.
I hope you guys know how to grow your own food, because I sure as hell don't know how this ends.
That is why every bank and every blue chip company needs to be backed up temporarily by the government until we all start to trust each other again. Personally, I think that all the bankers should be sent to therapy for the next few months. I know a few who are currently sitting in a corner curled in the fetal position, gibbering like idiots. Sad....they used to be so professional looking and all....
Anyway, on to other subjects. I am currently working on passports for us all. I actually had to get baby Julius a passport photo of all things! Little bugger kept smiling at the photographer. He refused to "keep a neutral expression on his face." We finally got one, but I don't know if it's good enough. I guess Passport Canada will just have to suck it up, eh? The solution to my passport woes has been pretty simple. I am now working on the assumption that I will never ever be elected to public office due to my long history of teh imperfection. So who cares if I and every other adoptee in Canada is required to lie on their federal documents in writing? Technically I'm committing an indictable offense, because every time I write down my adoptive name as my "name at birth" I'm lying on federal documents. (unlike in Ontario, where they specifically write in a rule that allows for adoptive names)
But since only perfect white men are allowed to run in winnable ridings and certainly not a former crazy woman like me, who cares? Fuck it, I want to go lie in the sun, and at some point I'll just have to hire a lawyer to mount a defense.
In the meantime, the bigger problem is how to deal with the kid's passports. I finally got the baby's long form birth certificate, required due to the repugnant bastard rule. (Since Mr.C. and I were not married when Kaz was born, all our children must carry proof of who their parents are whenever crossing borders.) The simple way to fix this issue btw, is to require that all children have the names of their legal custodial parents entered into their passports, so that no child is ever labelled a bastard by their own government. Yes, you could just strike down the law since it does violate the Charter, but to protect the tiny number of kids who are in a family kidnapping situation, it makes more sense to just treat everyone the same. Precisely the same. So that no one can ever tell who is born inside of marriage and who is born outside of marriage.
Everyone I speak to thinks this is horrendous, but for now, I am stuck. I figure I'll file a lawsuit after the kids get their passports.
So toots, I am going to try to enjoy my weekend, and see if I can get my husband to look at some vacation brochures and architectural pictures. Thanksgiving is upon us, and Sunday we're having 15 people over again. (Thank God for Whole Foods catering and the ability to hire people to help tidy up.) Monday is tidy up day here at the house and a day off from school for the kids, and then Tuesday is Election Day. We're hosting a home centre for our local Liberal candidate, hopefully he wins, but who knows? We thought the Liberals were sunk, but Dion seems to have pulled it out of the hat and his numbers are climbing.
More later....I have to go fill out the last of the forms.
*Last second update before posting: I just got a call for an appointment at the helmet clinic at Sick Kids for Boo-boo, and now I'm the one in the corner curled in a fetal position gibbering like a baboon....more later.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Baby pixels
Such a struggle for Julius....poor thing. Tummy time is very very hard. Feel sad. Weep for him. gnash your teeth. rent your clothes.
For more cute political babies, see here. Courtesy Miss Cellania. All you Obama lovers will squee. I spontaneously ovulated as I clicked.
Heh
Thank you to Aunt Jenny for the quilt! It does help him to rollover, because he has something to grab on to and get some traction. And it's nice and warm when I feed him at night!
I swear to god he does smile and laugh. When he isn't being forced to get rid of his flathead.
Really.
P.S. I cannot figure out how to move the pictures around the post, how do I do it, all of mine seem to be on the left of the blog, and on top? Why am I the most dipshitted person on earth when it comes to digital photos?
Monday, October 06, 2008
Why?
Why do weirdos in the supermarket always follow me around?
He's a cute weirdo this time, with a beard and kind of a tousled look.
This is the trouble with being postpartum, and the baby is at home, see, now I have big breasts, and my ring is still too tight for my wedding ring to go back on, and now---I guess they think I'm single?
Not!
Heh, so why don't the nice guys follow me? Why do I still attract the nutjobs?
I'm going to have to take my husband with me to Loblaws soon I guess.....
Sunday, October 05, 2008
sick babies
It's been a long week/weekend here with a sick baby. The spit ups are awful so I guess we're back to get prilosec or losec or whatever. plus he's arching his back and crying and generally acting out of character. typing one handed to post this sorry.
thing is, now he has a fever, not high or severe, but still bad. I am so freaking wiped right now.....
finally did some things on my to-do list.....should've slept instead.
i'm very upset that no one seems to get that we have a severe credit crisis here in canada as well. our banks are okay, but if no one can borrow or lend money, things will not look good soon.
more later, nanny will be here in 10 hours, i'll be able to sleep then. have to walk the baby now so he doesn't scream again.....
thing is, now he has a fever, not high or severe, but still bad. I am so freaking wiped right now.....
finally did some things on my to-do list.....should've slept instead.
i'm very upset that no one seems to get that we have a severe credit crisis here in canada as well. our banks are okay, but if no one can borrow or lend money, things will not look good soon.
more later, nanny will be here in 10 hours, i'll be able to sleep then. have to walk the baby now so he doesn't scream again.....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)