So, Christmas has come and gone. It was really cool to have my family here under one roof. I cooked a HUGE turkey dinner for all and it was a hit. I also baked 3 (count 'em) pies (yes, I realize that I am insane).
Present opening was a bit overwhelming for the wee one. We are definately going to have to cull the herd when it comes to toyland here. The kid is 2 and he has enough oys for 5 children. It's friggin ridiculous.
My younger brother took Jacob, out to pick his own toy on Christmas eve. Jacob picked out one of those mechanical, singing/dancing boobah doll things. It's beyond hideous and generally gives me the willies. They remind me (warning, what follows is not for the faint of heart, so if you're easily offended stop reading now or don't say that I didn't warn you) ...of uncircumcised penises. And the head is strangely human baby like, but there's no mouth and the 'ears' are littlem preposterour pointy protrusions (don't you just love alliteration?). I also feel like it's following me at all times with it's ridiculously large and WIDE eyes. All that to say, Jacob is absolutely in LOVE with the disturbingly loud contortionist contraption ('WHY' boggles the mind) so the rest of us just have to get used to it, I guess...until he gets bored with it and I hide it under the bed. Which ever happens first.
Anyhow, I hope you've all had astoundingly joyful Christmases and that the New Year brings even MORE JOY!!
Sunday, December 26, 2004
Monday, December 13, 2004
"Bwoooooooke, bwooooooke"
We have a tree! It's up! Most of the ornaments are intact...save one red ball and one Resin Tigger, since glued. Jacob was very upset at his breaking and chanted over and over 'Bwoooooke, bwooke' almost reverantly, while pointing at the carnage.
The weekend was fun. Our little diesel truck has been refusing to start, so hubby enlisted several able bodied grad students to help him push it up a hill so we could try to start it by 'popping the clutch'. It didn't work. We were left w/ one 1/4 tonne blue truck at the bottom of a very steep hill. In a Church parking lot. On Friday. Not good.
A very sweet, kindly, neighbour helped him tow it back up the hill. It started with attempt #2. I know what you're thinking. 'WHY DID YOU PUSH IT OVER THE HILL AGAIN??!' or perhaps 'WHY DIDN"T YOU JUST PUSH IT OFFA CLIFF?' Trust me, we were tempted. So, anyhow, the thing is now being repaired by my rather generous father.
We went Christmas shopping on Saturday and my sainted mother kept the boy. Jacob was thrilled to be staying with Nana. So much so, that he couldn't wait for us to get our butts out the door. No problemo, sonny boy :). He damanded a kiss and then said 'Kay, go'. Love you too, oh blessed product of my womb.
Got lots accomplished and the crowds weren't all that bad, surprisingly enough! We were lucky enough to have a visit with the tremendous Trenholms, which was lovely, as always.
Anyhow, now, I'm back at boring work, avoiding the stack of marking that's awaiting me. So, I suppose I should get to it before some one finds out and decides not to pay me :D
HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!h
The weekend was fun. Our little diesel truck has been refusing to start, so hubby enlisted several able bodied grad students to help him push it up a hill so we could try to start it by 'popping the clutch'. It didn't work. We were left w/ one 1/4 tonne blue truck at the bottom of a very steep hill. In a Church parking lot. On Friday. Not good.
A very sweet, kindly, neighbour helped him tow it back up the hill. It started with attempt #2. I know what you're thinking. 'WHY DID YOU PUSH IT OVER THE HILL AGAIN??!' or perhaps 'WHY DIDN"T YOU JUST PUSH IT OFFA CLIFF?' Trust me, we were tempted. So, anyhow, the thing is now being repaired by my rather generous father.
We went Christmas shopping on Saturday and my sainted mother kept the boy. Jacob was thrilled to be staying with Nana. So much so, that he couldn't wait for us to get our butts out the door. No problemo, sonny boy :). He damanded a kiss and then said 'Kay, go'. Love you too, oh blessed product of my womb.
Got lots accomplished and the crowds weren't all that bad, surprisingly enough! We were lucky enough to have a visit with the tremendous Trenholms, which was lovely, as always.
Anyhow, now, I'm back at boring work, avoiding the stack of marking that's awaiting me. So, I suppose I should get to it before some one finds out and decides not to pay me :D
HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!h
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
So, I usually try to keep this thing light but...
....there's been something weighing on my mind lately. It was somewhat provoked by another person's blog and also a conversation with a family member.
There are some who believe that women have no place in active combat. Why? Why, as a woman, is my life more valuable than a man's? Because I am some ones daughter? Because I am some one's sister? Because I am some one's mother?
I think that last one is the kicker. It all goes back to the uterus. So, I am a woman. I have one. I can bear children. So what? Yes, I love knowing that I have produced another life. I love knowing that I might get the chance to do it again someday, but does that make my life more precious than my husband's life? He is some one's son, brother and FATHER. Why is he less important?
'Collateral damage' in war includes innocent women and children. But that's ok. It's just not okay to send female soldiers into a war zone. Does this make sense?
For me, equality, in terms of treatment, is non-negotiable. Either you want it or you don't. I don't want to be treated better than a male counterpart. I want to be treated the same. There is a distinct difference. I don't want to *BE* the same! Men and women are not the same! I want the same opportunities and the same benefits. If I dont' chose to use these, that's my descision, but I want the opportunity to choose.
If I want to stay at home with my kid, I don't want to be made to feel guilty by the 'no holds barred' feminists of the world. If I make that choice, it will be mine. It doesn't mean that I am opressed in my 'traditional' role. It means that I chose that position for me. On the flip side, I don't want to be made to feel guilty for wanting a career outside of my home and family by the traditionalists of the world.
I guess I just want it all. But who doesn't??
When it comes right down to it, the opinions of most others don't matter much. As long as I feel that my descisions are right, and they are the same in the eyes of my family and my God, it's all good.
There are some who believe that women have no place in active combat. Why? Why, as a woman, is my life more valuable than a man's? Because I am some ones daughter? Because I am some one's sister? Because I am some one's mother?
I think that last one is the kicker. It all goes back to the uterus. So, I am a woman. I have one. I can bear children. So what? Yes, I love knowing that I have produced another life. I love knowing that I might get the chance to do it again someday, but does that make my life more precious than my husband's life? He is some one's son, brother and FATHER. Why is he less important?
'Collateral damage' in war includes innocent women and children. But that's ok. It's just not okay to send female soldiers into a war zone. Does this make sense?
For me, equality, in terms of treatment, is non-negotiable. Either you want it or you don't. I don't want to be treated better than a male counterpart. I want to be treated the same. There is a distinct difference. I don't want to *BE* the same! Men and women are not the same! I want the same opportunities and the same benefits. If I dont' chose to use these, that's my descision, but I want the opportunity to choose.
If I want to stay at home with my kid, I don't want to be made to feel guilty by the 'no holds barred' feminists of the world. If I make that choice, it will be mine. It doesn't mean that I am opressed in my 'traditional' role. It means that I chose that position for me. On the flip side, I don't want to be made to feel guilty for wanting a career outside of my home and family by the traditionalists of the world.
I guess I just want it all. But who doesn't??
When it comes right down to it, the opinions of most others don't matter much. As long as I feel that my descisions are right, and they are the same in the eyes of my family and my God, it's all good.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Do you wanna know what bugs me?
Well, I'm gonna tell you anyway :).
I am a red head. I have always hated that. Children are cruel to children with red hair....especially the ones with coke bottle thick glasses and braces and a bad perm (BTW, if anyone ever asks you if they should get a perm, the answer is ALWAYS NO!!). But, I digress. NOW, well, since I started university, suddenly, red hair is the colour to have! I'm always getting compliments on my hair colour! People are always telling me that they want to dye their hair *this* colour* and, while I appreciate them and the compliments, it's hard to switch gears. For the first little while, I thought people were secretly making fun of me. Now, I have learned to say thank you and be appreciative and believe that they aren't secretly laughing at me inside. So, moving on to what bugs me: It bugs me that it's so easy to dye your hair red. It should be hard! You should have to have all that cruel teasing programmed into your brain somehow to be a redhead!! I had to suffer, so everyone else should too, right? :) Not to say that these bottle redheads don't look fabulous, because they do...
Oh, and I'm sick of people asking me if this is my *real* hair colour and then them not believing me when I say yes. I feel like I have to carry around a baby picture at all times.
I've come to actually *gulp* LIKE my redhair now. I've come to terms and made my peace with it. So, now it'll probably all fall out or turn stark white and I'll have to become what bugs me....a bottle redhead. *sigh*
On a funny note, I was speaking to a friend yesterday. Her youngest babe is 5 months old. Her mother in law had come to visit and, when she (my friend) sat down to nurse the baby, the MIL asked 'Are you *STILL* nursing him?'. My friend, who is usually very reserved, looked at MIL with a smile and said, 'Why? Are you hungry?'. And they moved on to other topics.
LOL, YAY, lady! :) Too funny
I am a red head. I have always hated that. Children are cruel to children with red hair....especially the ones with coke bottle thick glasses and braces and a bad perm (BTW, if anyone ever asks you if they should get a perm, the answer is ALWAYS NO!!). But, I digress. NOW, well, since I started university, suddenly, red hair is the colour to have! I'm always getting compliments on my hair colour! People are always telling me that they want to dye their hair *this* colour* and, while I appreciate them and the compliments, it's hard to switch gears. For the first little while, I thought people were secretly making fun of me. Now, I have learned to say thank you and be appreciative and believe that they aren't secretly laughing at me inside. So, moving on to what bugs me: It bugs me that it's so easy to dye your hair red. It should be hard! You should have to have all that cruel teasing programmed into your brain somehow to be a redhead!! I had to suffer, so everyone else should too, right? :) Not to say that these bottle redheads don't look fabulous, because they do...
Oh, and I'm sick of people asking me if this is my *real* hair colour and then them not believing me when I say yes. I feel like I have to carry around a baby picture at all times.
I've come to actually *gulp* LIKE my redhair now. I've come to terms and made my peace with it. So, now it'll probably all fall out or turn stark white and I'll have to become what bugs me....a bottle redhead. *sigh*
On a funny note, I was speaking to a friend yesterday. Her youngest babe is 5 months old. Her mother in law had come to visit and, when she (my friend) sat down to nurse the baby, the MIL asked 'Are you *STILL* nursing him?'. My friend, who is usually very reserved, looked at MIL with a smile and said, 'Why? Are you hungry?'. And they moved on to other topics.
LOL, YAY, lady! :) Too funny
Friday, December 03, 2004
Why do they have to get sick?
So, my darling dear is sick. He started running a fever yesterday night. When Jacob gets a feverr, it doesn't matter if it's 101 or 104, his behaviour is the same. He resembles a wet sail. His eyes look glazed over and red rimmed, his breathing is shallow, and he's white as a sheet. All he wants is to be held, BY ME, and to doze in my arms. It's really very heartbreaking.
So, we called our family Doc to get an appointment, as the kiddo has no other symptoms other than the fever (he's not snurgely, no snot, no cough) and from past experience, this tends to mean he has strep throat. Not good. So, the receptionist, in all her sugary sweetness, informed us that she could squeeze us in sometime around January 14 or 15. Um, I have eggs in my fridge that will expire before then. No thank you. What's the use of having a family doctor if you can't get in to see her when your child is sick? Grrrrrr...
So, our remaining options were to go to outpatients, or go to the walk in clinic downtown. I hate the walk in clinic. I hate everything about it. I hate sitting under the flourescent lights, surrounded by dozens of sick, coughing people, holding my sick little boy who is MISERABLE, and watching other people do the same. It's heartbreaking and it's frustrating. I have never spent less than 2 hours waiting there to see my own frigging family doctor, or some doctor I don't even know. I guess I shouldn't complain. I know that there are plenty of people who wait 6 hours or more to see a Doctor in emergency rooms...The whole process just irritates me. I want my baby to feel better and I want to go home. It didn't help that between boughts of snuggling inside my jacket, Jacob would look up at me imploringly and weakly say 'Home, Mama, home. Go, Mama, go home. Peade?'.
Anyhow, we arrived at 6pm, were seen at 8 an out of there by 8:30. His fever was 40 degrees celcius at that point and so I guess the nurse and doctor kinda freaked out a little. I'm not sure what that is in farenheit...104 maybe? Anyhow, hubby had given him advil at 2 pm, so he couldn't have another dose until at least 8, and I had brought it with me, but the lovely nurse still looked at me and said 'He needs another dose! Why haven't you given it to him??'. What I wanted to say 'Yeah, lady, I like seeing my kid like this, so I withhold medication until the last possible second.' What I did say 'Well, they're supposed to get it every 6-8 hours. It's just now been barely 6 hours, I did bring it with me tho'. Her reply: "Well, you'd better get it into him ASAP!".. Yes, ma'am.
So, I gave him the advil. The Doc finally saw us and ordered another dose of tylenol for him and wouldn't let us leave until his temp started coming down. His ears are slightly infected. No throat problems, horray! Oh, and the best part was that the doc asked me to give him another dose of advil. That would be 6mL's in total!!!!!!! The reg dose is 3 mls! I reluctantly agreed after questioning the dose (he assured me that the proper dose for Jacob's weight was 6 mLs)and gave him what was left in the bottle. So, in total, he got about 4.5 mL's of advil and then another 5 mL of Tylenol. Holy DRUGS, Batman! His fever started coming down almost immediately, so we got the greenlight and busted outta there. I stopped by the pharmacy on the way home to pick up more drugs and discovered that the proper dose of CHILDREN'S ADVIL for a child of Jacob's weight is indeed 6 mLs. However, I was not using CHILDREN'S ADVIL, but INFANT ADVIL, which is concentrated and double the dose. I was preturbed, to say the least. Anyhow, after the pharmacist assured a WHITE FACED ME, that this wouldn't kill him, I was placated enough to go home. That's all I needed to know.
So, home I went with a perky toddler, who proceeded to eat two granola bars and promptly fell asleep....at 10pm. I contemplated drinking a bottle of wine to calm my frazzeled nerves, but resisted and made it up to myself with some leftover pizza and gingerale.
I know why mothers get gray hair. I only have one child. Is there any hope for me? I never shoulda let him stop breastfeeding. He NEVAH got sick while I was nursing him. It all went to pot once he stopped. Do you think they'd look at me funny if I went to school at lunch time to feed him? Probably. *SIGH* Why the heck do they have to get sick???
On a positive note, labs are over for this semester. YAY!
So, we called our family Doc to get an appointment, as the kiddo has no other symptoms other than the fever (he's not snurgely, no snot, no cough) and from past experience, this tends to mean he has strep throat. Not good. So, the receptionist, in all her sugary sweetness, informed us that she could squeeze us in sometime around January 14 or 15. Um, I have eggs in my fridge that will expire before then. No thank you. What's the use of having a family doctor if you can't get in to see her when your child is sick? Grrrrrr...
So, our remaining options were to go to outpatients, or go to the walk in clinic downtown. I hate the walk in clinic. I hate everything about it. I hate sitting under the flourescent lights, surrounded by dozens of sick, coughing people, holding my sick little boy who is MISERABLE, and watching other people do the same. It's heartbreaking and it's frustrating. I have never spent less than 2 hours waiting there to see my own frigging family doctor, or some doctor I don't even know. I guess I shouldn't complain. I know that there are plenty of people who wait 6 hours or more to see a Doctor in emergency rooms...The whole process just irritates me. I want my baby to feel better and I want to go home. It didn't help that between boughts of snuggling inside my jacket, Jacob would look up at me imploringly and weakly say 'Home, Mama, home. Go, Mama, go home. Peade?'.
Anyhow, we arrived at 6pm, were seen at 8 an out of there by 8:30. His fever was 40 degrees celcius at that point and so I guess the nurse and doctor kinda freaked out a little. I'm not sure what that is in farenheit...104 maybe? Anyhow, hubby had given him advil at 2 pm, so he couldn't have another dose until at least 8, and I had brought it with me, but the lovely nurse still looked at me and said 'He needs another dose! Why haven't you given it to him??'. What I wanted to say 'Yeah, lady, I like seeing my kid like this, so I withhold medication until the last possible second.' What I did say 'Well, they're supposed to get it every 6-8 hours. It's just now been barely 6 hours, I did bring it with me tho'. Her reply: "Well, you'd better get it into him ASAP!".. Yes, ma'am.
So, I gave him the advil. The Doc finally saw us and ordered another dose of tylenol for him and wouldn't let us leave until his temp started coming down. His ears are slightly infected. No throat problems, horray! Oh, and the best part was that the doc asked me to give him another dose of advil. That would be 6mL's in total!!!!!!! The reg dose is 3 mls! I reluctantly agreed after questioning the dose (he assured me that the proper dose for Jacob's weight was 6 mLs)and gave him what was left in the bottle. So, in total, he got about 4.5 mL's of advil and then another 5 mL of Tylenol. Holy DRUGS, Batman! His fever started coming down almost immediately, so we got the greenlight and busted outta there. I stopped by the pharmacy on the way home to pick up more drugs and discovered that the proper dose of CHILDREN'S ADVIL for a child of Jacob's weight is indeed 6 mLs. However, I was not using CHILDREN'S ADVIL, but INFANT ADVIL, which is concentrated and double the dose. I was preturbed, to say the least. Anyhow, after the pharmacist assured a WHITE FACED ME, that this wouldn't kill him, I was placated enough to go home. That's all I needed to know.
So, home I went with a perky toddler, who proceeded to eat two granola bars and promptly fell asleep....at 10pm. I contemplated drinking a bottle of wine to calm my frazzeled nerves, but resisted and made it up to myself with some leftover pizza and gingerale.
I know why mothers get gray hair. I only have one child. Is there any hope for me? I never shoulda let him stop breastfeeding. He NEVAH got sick while I was nursing him. It all went to pot once he stopped. Do you think they'd look at me funny if I went to school at lunch time to feed him? Probably. *SIGH* Why the heck do they have to get sick???
On a positive note, labs are over for this semester. YAY!
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