August, the buzz kill

So August hits and suddenly TV commercials feel the need to start telling you that "summer's almost over!" I'm listening to them and thinking, "No, no, it's really not!" But it insists. And I'm starting to freak out! I'm not ready for summer to be done. I'm not all summered out yet! I haven't done half of what I wanted to do.

But here we are, halfway through the month already, and we're started our back-to-school shopping and we've got September appointments booked and we're looking ahead and trying to sort things out.  I mean, you have to, right? You can't just step into September like it's any other month --well, unless you have no school-aged children, then by all means. But generally speaking, you spend part of August planning for the Fall.

And it's sad.

August really is the buzz kill of summer. I read it last week as "the Sunday of Summer." You know, the last day of fun.

You're stuck between the guilt and sadness of plans that didn't work out and wanting to stuff more into your weeks, but also being restrained by time and budget. Can we afford another big fun event? Should we go somewhere? What can we do to make the most of August?

I would still like to go camping once more (we had to cancel our week-long trip due to appointments, but maybe a weekend would suffice.) And go to a beach or lake. And have a few more get togethers and BBQs with friends.

What do you do to make your summer last?

a compassionate view on abortion

This is too good to not be shared.

I'm sure you have heard about the heartbreaking videos that were released about some Planned Parenthood management trying to sell baby parts from the aborted fetus' they have. There are five altogether. If you have somehow missed this, please look into it! They are difficult to watch and hear about, but it needs to be known.

This was posted today on Ann Voskamp's blog and it is so beautifully written.

It's a compassionate view. One that I wish more people had.

"Abortion isn’t so much about a woman having a choice — but a woman feeling like she has no choice at all."

"When we say that Womb Lives Matter — it doesn’t for one iota of a moment mean that women’s lives don’t count, don’t have a voice, don’t matter. When we say that Womb Lives Matter, we aren’t saying that only pre-born people matter and women don’t —- we are saying that pre-born people matter equally too .It’s part of the DNA of true social justice: Humanity believes in mutual human flourishing — in the flourishing of all human beings. History, genocides, Nazism, racism, haven’t they all proved at the very least this to humanity: It’s when we dehumanize anyone, that we can legitimize anything."

"What does it say of our humanity when we place value on aborted human organs — but not on the human baby who had those organs? We sit with that, how we failed woman and child. Every abortion is a failure of humanity: failing a human being in crisis and a human being in utero."

A Holy Experience: An Honest Conversation about abortion that asks us not to turn away -- from anyone. The Emmaus Option.

^^please click link above to read the whole post

A missing child and confronting fears

I almost lost Rhys the other day and it freaked me out.

I was downstairs cleaning (I have so much to declutter) when I thought I had better check on the kids in the backyard playing. It's good to do that every now and then. Just to make sure they are where they said they'd be and that they're not killing eachother. That's when I realized that Rhys was not with the Youngers and the neighbour. I knew he wasn't in the house, since I hadn't seen him anywhere, and of course no one else knew where he was either. Which upset me. How come they didn't notice he wasn't with them anymore? The last they knew, he was in the front yard, which frustrated me further. My rule is that the kids aren't allowed to play in the front alone. We have no fence and even though our neighbourhood is a nice one some people like to drive through it fast. I have a few concerns about the Youngers out there.

As I stood in the front yard, looking at our quiet neighbourhood, I was struck with a blank mind. I didn't know what to do, where to look, where to go. And then I was filled with anxiety. Rhys wouldn't be just a missing child, but one with possible-borderline-maybe special needs. And that's hard. He has no label, nothing to go on, just my knowledge of who he is.

I know that he wouldn't wander off. But he could get distracted. He's good at chatting with older people, so he could strike up a conversation and walk with someone passing by. He could also be convinced to go with someone. And he could also be easily snatched since he has no strength or know-how to struggle or fight back. (Eden, at four, would scream bloody murder if someone were to touch her!) And these are scary realizations.

I knew that Kai was next door, so I went to see if he knew where Rhys was. But, of course, he didn't either. No one knew. No one knew when he'd not been a part of their group. No one knew where he could be. Just where he wasn't.

I wasn't panicking yet but I was starting to feel frustrated. How come these kids didn't pay attention to their own sibling? I remember always keeping an eye on my little sister! Mostly, maybe, because she kept getting hurt. (which may or may not have been my fault at times. innocently of course) Kai said that he'd look inside the neighbour's house in case Rhys was there. (I'm not going to get into how I felt when I heard him admit that he could be in the rancher home and not know if his own brother was there as well! I mean, how would you miss that? There aren't a lot of rooms to lose a sibling in!)

I stood in the front yard, looking at my house, looking down the road, looking at my neighbour's houses. Where do I start to look?  The neighbourhood was the quietest I've ever known it to be. No cars. No people walking. No kids. And no Rhys.

I felt lost.

And in those moments, I had to confront my biggest fears for Rhys ---he's not a Special Needs Child. But he is.

He can't fight back. He can't speak for himself. He doesn't recognize danger. And what do I do about that? How do I parent a child who is seven and should know even basic skills on danger and safety?

I felt lost.

Thankfully, Rhys was not lost in the end. More like misplaced. He was at our neighbour's house after all. While the older boys were on the computer, he was playing with toys, I think. He had no idea that I would want to know he went next door, and didn't understand why I was upset. The other kids didn't quite get my anxiety either -- I'm happy that they don't recognize that he's delayed, but I struggle with having to explain that he is not like his peers. I don't want to, but I also need them to understand.

While the kids went back to playing, I laid on the couch with chest pain, trying to calm down my body so I could breathe. I may have triggered a slight anxiety attack over that half hour ordeal!

I don't know what to do now. I feel inadequate in training and teaching Rhys. I know that it's normal to feel unprepared in parenting, but he is a different type of skill-level. I keep holding on, reminding myself that we'll get in at Sunny Hill and be assessed and it'll get better. But I don't know when that will be. I refuse to think of other possibilities -- that he may not come with answers -- because I need that hope to hold on to. That chance of having an answer, a name, a plan, a way to tackle his needs. I need to believe that someone out there will be able to help him and us.

this is why I suck at small talk

Mothering Sunday

Happy Mothers Day to all of you out there, whether you have a baby in your arms, or one (or more) waiting for you in heaven, or if you have been waiting and waiting and trying to become one, or if you have one by way of a step child or adoption or fostering. Whether you are older and now only a part of you child's life through online activity or a few phone calls, or whether you are so new to this job that you are just dying for a break.  

May the day be kind to you. May you wear that title "Mom" proudly. May you feel whole and complete no matter what stage of life you are at, how you birthed (or did not) your child, or can only carry that child in your heart.  May you know how much you are admired and loved, not just from your children, but from family, friends, the aquaintances in your neighbourhood (you have no idea how many people think you're doing an excellent job even though you don't!), but also from God. 

You are important, even if you are a stay-at-home mom, or a working mom with a nanny. What you do for your family is so good.  

Thank you for all that you do.

This is for my Mom:

Incident on the playground

When I picked up Rhys from kindergarten today, his teacher told me there was an "incident on the playground" which left him with a scratched face. I didn't think much of it; he must've fallen. He trips easily. But after half an hour I thought it looked suspiciously like scratches from a hand. 

Sure enough, when I asked him, he said one of his classmates did it. But he couldn't really remember a lot of the incident (part of his delayment issues come from lack of memory and ability to explain or speak properly), so I don't know what happened. Something about the girl being tagged or not being tagged while they were playing on the playground. (it was just the two of them, plus another boy, during free play. The rest of the class was inside the room, which is steps from the playground. So no adult witnessed this either.)


Sadly, this girl has been rough with him a few times.  I'm not too sure what to do about it. I want to mention it to the girl's parents, but I also don't want to come out as if Rhys was completely innocent in it either, since I don't know if he was.  Did he say something to her? Was he being mean? Did he shove her or retaliate? Not that that excuses her scratching in any way, but it does make it less of a 'your girl is beating up my boy' and more of a 'our children don't get along' thing.  I've never had to deal with this in the other kids.  

It makes me sad because he is a sweetheart. It also makes me frustrated that it is shrugged off by the teacher.  He already talks about how one girl (a different one than this one) is mean to him and always shoving him!  And I don't understand why.  Is he doing something? What causes them to shove him? (the two girls seem to like to do this) My poor boy, who can't explain himself very well.

When she almost died

Today marks the day that Abi almost died three years ago. (It was a tough year and a busy year; I didn't blog in 2012)  I have been approaching the day with some hesitation and with emotions, but today I think I have more peace. Today is just a day. It doesn't really mean anything and I don't have to spend it in sorrow or fear. But it has been a slow process to get to that way of thinking.  It takes a bit of time to recover from a traumatic experience.

Three years ago, Abi had already been struggling with her asthma for a week, which had sent us to the hospital emergency room. I remember trying all of our at-home treatments of inhalers and nebulizers, and after no change I packed her up at 4am and we drove across town. I even went through red lights! (well, I stopped at them first, checked to make sure the intersections were empty, and then continued on. I hoped that we wouldn't get any tickets in the mail from the red-light cameras!) There, Abi was given more medication and oxygen and was put on steroids for a week.

 {she didn't like the nose prongs, but she did get a horse out of the deal from the hospital. what girl doesn't like a horse?}

I remember my Mom warning me to watch Abi when she finished the medication, as it was strong and sometimes coming off of them causes another attack.

Despite that warning, I was still not expecting what happened next.

It was exactly a week later. Abi had been dealing with asthma all through the night, so I was up often with her to give her the inhalers and to watch her, so when she was calling for me and crying at 7am, I was so exhausted. I admit, with shame, that I was frustrated with her as well. I begrudgingly got up and went to see her but could tell that she really wasn't doing well. I knew that she needed more than her inhalers. However, the nebulizer medication was in the bathroom, where my Hunny was having a shower; he wasn't too happy that I was interrupting his morning wake-up shower. That is, until he saw Abi also. She was breathing so hard that as soon as she finished her treatment of the pulmicort, I immediately started another nebule in the machine and then gathered up what we needed for another trip to the ER. (such as her medical card and medications,  as well as getting myself dressed.)

When we were putting on our shoes downstairs at the front door it occurred to me that it was Saturday at seven thirty in the morning. Traffic would be crazy in Langley! I couldn't just speed through the streets and go through red lights anymore!  So back upstairs we went so I could call for an ambulance. That's when she she threw up on the stairs (due to a hyper-anxious system....yes, that's my own medical terminology! Apparently that's not too uncommon during an asthma attack.) That's also when she started to hyperventilate. I was starting to get frustrated with her, and to be honest, I wanted to slap her across the face to jolt her out of it, but I didn't. I grabbed her shoulders and urged her to calm down and breathe slower. Not that it helped.

She was in her room and her father was watching over her, telling her to slow down her breathing. I was in the living room, calling 9-1-1, and checking on the boys (who were 3, 5 and 8yrs old. Eden was just 9 months old and sleeping in my bed still) as they played with Lego.  Looking back, I see how I did the opposite of what we are told to do when calling for an ambulance: do not leave the injured/sick person. But I did. I had to keep walking. I had to keep checking on the boys. I had to see if the ambulance had arrived. I had to unlock the front door and make sure they could find the house. But most of all, I couldn't be in the same room as her as she was screaming and I couldn't hear the guy on the phone and didn't want him to hear her.

Having your daughter scream, "I'm going to die!" is tough to listen to.

When I did look in on her, her lips were blue and her cheeks were getting blue as well. I related this to the guy on the phone, but just then the ambulance arrived. Or rather, the firemen arrived. They really do arrive first. But the one ambulance was right behind them. I led them to the room, where Abi was now laying on the floor since she passed out. (that's when I realized just how messy her room was and I felt embarrassed that I didn't spend a few moments to clean it up. Yeah, I was thinking weird thoughts like that.) I had to talk to one of the firemen and give him all of the details and her medical information for his forms, so I didn't see what was happening in the room. A part of me didn't want to though. I wanted to be out of their way and let them do their stuff.  But when I walked past the room, I did peek in and hear one paramedic tell the other one that "she wasn't breathing, but her heart was still beating." I didn't want to hear any more.

It all happened in slow motion, yet felt chaotic, but I'm sure it was fast. I didn't even look at the clock. I have heard that typical time frames between the first call to when the ambulance arrives is approximately five minutes, but it sure felt longer. (I forgot to ask the dispatcher for an ETA, although I remember learning that you could ask. It didn't seem relevent at the time. Oddly.) They sent over a regular ambulance and an Advanced Life Support ambulance, just in case; the dispatcher wanted me to know so that I didn't get too worried. I was completely fine with whatever they brought as long as it helped Abi!

Abi was still unconscious when they got her onto a stretcher and carried her carefully down the stairs to the one ambulance (not the Advanced Life Support one, although they debated on which one to take for a bit.) and they were bag breathing her. But she was breathing on her own by then. Thankfully.  They had to insert a tube down her throat while in her room since her airways were so closed up. The problem is that they didn't actually have a youth's size of tube, just infant and adult! The good news is that my Hunny had taken his Level 3 First Aid course (next level up is paramedic, I think) and so he had a youth sized tube in his bag, which he gave to them. (still packaged and sterilized) 

Abi finally started to wake up while we were in the ambulance, but we didn't leave for a few more minutes. Apparently they were talking with my husband (while I sat in the front of the ambulance) and deciding which hospital to go to. We live conveniently in the middle of three different hospitals (Surrey Memorial, Langley Memorial and Peace Arch in White Rock) and on a direct route to another (Royal Columbian in New Westminster, since the freeway is close to us and a quick way to get there) so they were figuring out which would be the best. We usually go to LMH, since it is smaller and therefore not as busy. (I've been there so often now that I feel comfortable there) but it was decided to head to SMH since they have a big pediatrics ward, which I didn't know about.

It took Abi a good three hours to recover enough that she could speak again. Her lungs were so sore and she rested a lot. But she was breathing on her own and that was a big step up from that morning!

 {I posted this pic to FB so that our friends who were praying all over the world for her would see that she was alert and doing better.}

We stayed overnight (I wished I had thought to pack clothes or worn a nicer top, but dressing for an emergency means grabbing whatever you have nearby) and met with the pediatrician (Dr A J Singh, a wonderful wonderful man! I love him for what he has done for Abi but he is so terribly busy, it is crazy to get in to see him. He works out of SMH as well as Children's Hospital and has his own clinic on the weekend!) We even had the kids come over and visit us! That was good for them since the last they saw Abi, the house was full of paramedics and firemen and she was taken out of the house on a stretcher. (Kai looked so worried. His expression made me sad. The others didn't say much. When the paramedics were outside at the ambulance, we all sat together and prayed over her and thanked the Lord for his protection.)

It was through the grace of God that Abi was healed and not only that, declared well enough to go home the night after her attack! We were back in our own house by 8pm on the 18th-- 36 hours since the ordeal began. What a miracle! I was expecting to be there for a few days while she recovered and, I don't know, while they did some investigating or intervention or instruction of some sort for her asthma. But we came home with some inahlers and some tips and a follow up appointment.

My sweet girl. Aged 10. Still smiling.

She doesn't remember much of what happened. She didn't remember screaming or throwing up or fighting us with the nebulizer and mask (she kept pushing it away from her face and yelled as we willed that ambulance to come faster), and she didn't remember passing out! A good fifteen minutes missing. But I think that's a good thing. She bounced back pretty good. We told her a few pieces of info on what happened, but we also didn't want her too scared or growing a fear of a repeat. But there are a few parts that even I don't know about, parts that my Hunny witnessed that I didn't, and parts that he doesn't want to talk about, so they will remain a mystery to me. And at first I felt I needed to know it all, but now I am okay with just holding on to what I remember.

We joked that when they all returned to school, she could say to her classmates, "what, you went to Hawaii for Spring Break? Yeah, I almost died!"

The hardest thing about seeing your child almost die in front of you is that fear. It takes a hold of you and it clings to you, and you begin to doubt and you start to worry. It became a fight with myself to NOT let it take control, and I have to admit that it's been a tough journey. How do you live without the fear? I was wrestling with the knowledge that this could happen again and I couldn't stop it. And I really struggled with the thought of God's protection on her, but also us being a part of a Bigger Plan and also having to live in a flawed world.  

Yes, He definitely could keep her from harm, and He could pull her back from danger. And He does it every day for us. But I had to be OK with knowing that He may not always. And how do you do that? I didn't know how to give up my daughter and say to God, 'it's okay, you can take her if you want to!" because I was NOT okay with it!  And I felt so foolish to be feeling that way! I know that I can't hold tight to my kids. I know that there is nothing in my power that can keep them from harm. And I also knew that God's way is the best way. It says that in Romans  8:28 that "in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." And I love Him. But how could I ever find that idea of Him letting my girl die to be a "good thing"?

And I wrestled with that.

It's been three years, and I can't say that I have fully grasped it yet. I like to think that I can say to the Lord, 'yes, these are your children, and I trust you."  I know that I can be honest though as well. So I will often cry out and admit that I have a hard time letting them go, and that I fear for them and that I don't want to have to give them up. But I think that's normal! What kind of mom would I be if I just willingly handed them over without any fear or emotion? I think the key is pushing past that fear and letting God be who He is. And He is good.

And I know that.

My Colour Deficient Child

The kids had their annual eye appointments this past week. All five of them, right after each other. We rush over there after school and are the last visits of the day, so the office is just ours. Thankfully. Sometimes having to keep five kids orderly and not into everything is difficult; the less witnesses the better! The funny thing is that we were right after another woman and her five kids! (if I had known that, I would've talked with her, but they were leaving as we were entering. Maybe next year.)

This is the optometrist that I have been seeing since I was a teenager. Dr. R.G. Dyck, if you happen to be in Whalley. He's really good and has a fun sense of humor. And, if you need another reason to see him, we joke that he healed Abi's eyes!  After all, she wore glasses for grades three and four, but when she was tested the next year, she didn't need them anymore, and hasn't since. Dr Dyck said it was the first time he had ever cured anyone's sight!

The good news is that none of the kids need glasses this year. Yay! Well, good for me at least. Glasses can be expensive. I buy mine off of clearlycontacts, an online retailer, as it is much cheaper. But I'd be more inclined to buy glasses for the kids from a place where they could try them on first in person. (trying them on virtually isn't an easy way to decide or predict how they'd really look; it's all guessing!)  The kids were more disappointed though, I think they all wanted to buy some glasses! Silly kids! 

They had fun trying on frames in the office though.

 The cute little nerds!

Do you remember when wearing glasses was a "bad" thing? Not something cool? I do. I remember thinking that I must be the only kid in grade six who actually wanted glasses. (my eyes were sore at school and I was having trouble seeing distances, but it wasn't too bad yet to effect schoolwork. I used to steal my dad's old pair and wear them every now and then. My parents didn't realize it was bothering me so much and they didn't get me tested until a few years later. That's when Dr Dyck said that my test results showed that I was blind! Funny. And my father, a painter, was considered colour blind! It's good to know that we adjusted so well consdering!)

(I couldn't help buy laugh at this pair! It made me think of the Beastie Boys video Sabotage. You know, where they dress up in wigs and fake moustaches and act out like some 70s cop show? It was funny and awesome when it came out in '94. However, when I showed it to my kids later, they didn't get the humor in it and thought it was bizarre!) 

The only part of the appointments that resulted in some mixed answers was when Bryn had been tested.  The doctor stated that he is colour blind! I remember him doing some testing with the flash cards last year, so I was glad that he did them again. The only problem was that since there was four other kids in and out of the office and trying on frames and two still needing to have the pictures taken with the machines (done prior to sitting down with the dr), and one boy who kept wanting to give his answers before Bryn could, the door was closed on us! So I didn't get to hear what was said or find out more information, and I didn't think of what to ask afterwards! So now I feel a bit silly.

I was told that it was all my fault though! Women carry the gene for colour blindness and pass it along to their sons. Kai had fun teasing me on that one. I bit my tongue from saying that it was still a better deal than the HPV virus that boys pass to girls. Being colour blind isn't nice, but you're not going to die from uterine cancer or made unable to conceive. Just a thought to put into perspective of passing down one thing to another.

In my own searching, I found out that there are different types of colour blindness, which is known as Colour Vision Deficient, with the most common being red-green deficient, so I am assuming that is what he has. (a friend of ours is red-green colour blind, and likes to tell people that when he drives!) It effects about 1 in 12 men (and 1 in 200 women), so the chances are that each year, there is one student in each classroom who has this. I find that intersting, especially since it isn't talked about a lot and I have never known someone until I was 19!  I'm not too sure what this will mean for Bryn, but there is nothing that can be done and life can be normal. Well, to a degree, there are some difficulties (there is a really good article called "how can I save the planet when I can't tell green from brown?" written by Geoffrey Hope-Terry that is humerous and thought provoking.), but overall it isn't considered Special Needs (although some may disagree). Bryn is such a smart kid, he's energetic and fun, and doesn't seem to have any problems in the classroom, so I don't quite know if anything needs to be done yet.

I admit to pulling out a bunch of markers and testing Bryn on my own at home, and he had no problems picking out the orange, red, green or brown colours. Which had me wondering. I was talking to a friend of mine whose 10 year old son is "profoundly colour blind" and she described how it is easier to identify the colours when they are separate and you have them memorized, but when they are all mixed together it is harder to distinguish. I guess that makes sense. It also explains why when we are out driving Bryn will always be the one who never sees something no matter how hard we point it out. As we were heading home from the optometrist, Eden noticed the sign for White Spot that spun around. We were at a stop light, and it was directly to our right. Bryn just could not see it! I pointed to it, and even said, "it's the giant green sign right there that's turning!" As we drove away at the green light, he said in frustration, "I never see things!"  It made me sad. And it made me wonder if that was the reason. It also explains why he is constantly getting upset that his Tablet battery always needs charging; it may not but he can't tell the difference between a red dead battery light and a green charged one.  I'm hoping that this article for colour blind kids on Colour Blind Awareness (a UK organization) will help him out a bit.

It was an interesting visit to the Optometrist. Now officially every child in our family has "something"! Yay go us.

Killer Stairs

It's been two weeks now, so I think it's safe to say that I have survived an attack on my life. Or at least on the life of my backside. My stairs tried to take me out, but I came out okay. A bit sore, okay a lot sore, but I am mobile.  And that's saying something, considering how bad off I was last week.

I was just escorting the younger boys downstairs to the bathroom first thing in the morning, because, well, little bladders, and their father was in the bathroom upstairs having a shower. (yes, we are a two-bathroom home, no ensuites. Which really doesn't bother us, we make do, but apparently to a lot of people on HGTV home-hunter shows it can be a deal-breaker) At the bottom of our thirteen steps, it curves just a bit as you hit the landing at the front door. I thought I manouvered that corner just fine, but I guess in my sleepy stupor I managed to slip off one stair, and just when I thought I had corrected my stance, I plunked on my bottom across the last step. It seemed to happen in slow motion! And it was painful!  Right across my butt cheek and my tail bone.  I lay on that floor for a few minutes, unable to move, deciding if I could just stay there for the day. But I did pull myself together and climbed those steps again and other than feeling really pained, thought I was doing fine.

Until it hit me.  

It always hits you later. You know, after you've been laying on the couch for the past few hours, nursing your bruised bottom, and your bladder tells you to get up or your toddler tells you it's lunchtime, and you realize that your tailbone is more sore than it was earlier. I really had no idea how much work your tailbone actually did! Not only is it useful in getting you to sit down, but it is incredibly important in standing (which was something I struggled with) and it also aides you in pivoting. I had no idea!

Now I do.

I managed to hobble along that afternoon and pick up the kids from school (I don't recommend walking around in areas with small, busy children. I was so frightened that some kids would knock into me, causing more pain, at the school), but I ended the afternoon in tears. And the next day was even worse! I couldn't stand for longer than one minute before I was in tears and incredible pain!  I had to call my husband from the driveway to see if he could leave work and pick up the kids since I had barely made it to the van before I felt I could go no further.  It was horrible.

Despite the incredible amount of pain I was in, I still was hesitant on going to the doctor. Well, for one, mine was booked up for the month, and the clinic nearby was already booked for the day as well, so the alternative was to sit in the ER for the next three hours (or more) just to have an x-ray. And even then, I researched, the doctors couldn't really do anything for you anyways. If it was dislocated, they could relocate it for you, but if it was broken they could only advise that you rest and buy one of those old-people inflatable butt pillows from the pharmacy. It's not like you could put your bum into a cast. So instead, I found some old tylenol 3s with codeine in the back of our cupboard and took them. (shh!) And waited.

It wasn't an easy wait, but it was a manageable one. I was in less pain on Friday, but still found standing longer than five minutes tough. But that was better than my pain threshold of one minute the day earlier!  Funny thing though is that I found sitting to be easier on me. A few of my friends who have broken their tailbone have said that they couldn't sit, so I guess that meant that it likely wasn't a break. (I was also told that I'd "Know" if it was broken, so I'm going to have to take their word for it.)

After a week, I felt more mobile. I could pivot. I could stand. I could walk easier. Things were looking up.  

Except now, I found that sitting was more uncomfortable! Go figure.  

But it would seem that our stairs weren't satisfied with trying to take me out and it went after another victim! Sadly, it was Miss E!  She took a bit of a tumble near the bottom steps and smucked her nose on one of the stair treads. Poor girl. She howled and howled and her big sister rescued her and carried her up to me with a tiny bit of a bloody nose. Of course, noticing that made it worse for her, but I was happy that it was barely bleeding at all. So I thought she'd make it out of the deal just fine.

Until that evening.  When I saw the bridge of her nose all swollen up. The poor girl was almost unrecognizable! Now I know what she'd look like had she been born to a family with a strong Grecian nasal bridge! Nothing wrong with that feature, but it wasn't the look she was born with. It was sad to see her so swollen. Which increased my concern and had me texting my mom for advice (does she need to go to the ER?) and checking into Dr Google (how do you tell if your toddler broke her nose?), both of which said that as long as she is breathing okay, there isn't anything the doctor can do until the swelling has gone down. So we wait.

  {day one. poor girl! look at that swelling! it breaks my heart.}

The nice thing is that Eden didn't even notice! Her nose didn't even bother her at all. I even tried poking on the two black eyes she had the next day, but she didn't even flinch!

Of course, every one had to stop us at the school and ask what happened to her, and to share their stories with their toddlers (breaking your nose on the stairs is quite common apparently). And of course, the one day she was being difficult and not listening is the day that I have to grab her arm and drag her across the crosswalk at the school (she was trying to run away from me, which meant into traffic or to hide in the bushes, neither of which I was impressed with) and that the vice-principal is on crosswalk duty! He looks at her and asks me, "is she okay?"  I nod and reply, "oh yeah, she fell down the stairs!" and quickly usher my children to my van, hoping he doesn't think the black eyes and my strong grip on her are connected! Eek! Deep breath!

 {all fiesty as normal. Her nose doesn't hold her back! day two and her eyes are swollen and starting to get purple.}

But she's healing.  I did have to post a picture on FB though, since I knew many people at church were wondering but didn't want to ask...

 {look at that beautiful smile! day four and black eyes and yellowing nose, which is good since it's healing, but still looks nasty}

But really, she was looking better.

It's been two weeks for her as well, and all that is left is two small bruises under her eyes. But that is so much better than a swollen nasal bridge and two black and purple eyes!  



I find myself being extra cautious when I go down my stairs now though. I didn't realize it had a mean streak in it! Wow!

a new angle

A few weeks ago, my husband and I were called in for an appoitment with Kai's teacher. That's never a good feeling! She has been really concerned with his school work and behaviour, saying that he has missed a lot of school and isn't completing work. We had talked to her about this in the Fall, but we thought things had gotten better.  She is worried that his schoolwork is failing due to health issues as he's falling asleep in class and is basically a zombie and not seeming to take in any information.  

We have troubles with him at home with getting to bed on time, generally listening to us at all really, with doing any time of chore or task. He also has NEVER been bothered with consequences, which makes things difficult. He'll throw a temper tantrum at first (and, yes, he is 11yrs old), but be stubborn enough that he won't be bothered by it later. We have been struggling with finding a way to deal with him, but everything seems to turn into a fight. It's been rough.

Other than the usual stuff that we already knew about...his teacher mentioned something that completely surprised me. She wondered if he has ADHD! The funny thing is that my husband agreed it was a possiblity. I'm not saying that it is NOT possible...I was just so surprised as it had never crossed my mind before! However, I looked online and found the list of symptoms on the Mayo Clinic site and was surprised at how much of a possibility it is!

 Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) has been called attention-deficit disorder (ADD) in the past. But ADHD is now the preferred term because it describes both of the primary features of this condition: inattention and hyperactive-impulsive behavior.
Signs and symptoms of ADHD may include:

• Difficulty paying attention
• Frequently daydreaming
• Difficulty following through on instructions and apparently not listening
• Frequently has problems organizing tasks or activities
• Frequently forgetful and loses needed items, such as books, pencils or toys
• Frequently fails to finish schoolwork, chores or other tasks
• Easily distracted
• Frequently fidgets or squirms
• Difficulty remaining seated and seemly in constant motion
• Excessively talkative
• Frequently interrupts or intrudes on others' conversations or games
• Frequently has trouble waiting for his or her turn

( see here for more information:  )

In our meeting, the teacher had also included the school Special Needs Coordinator, who deals with ADHD students. We had never met her before, or even knew her name, and she hadn't met with Kai before this meeting either, but the teacher thought it would be good to bring her in just for an assessment.  We were fine with that because this problem was starting to become something bigger than we had thought it would be. While we didn't know he was having this much trouble in class (his teacher said that one week he was such a "zombie" that she didn't even know if he even learned or listened to a thing that whole five days, and thought it may have been a write off in terms of usefulness. Wow. Harsh. Bigger that we thought.)  we did know that he was becoming more difficult at home. So many late nights, so much frustration and anger and temper tantrums, and so much arguing and causing fights. He made car rides so stressful! And we were at our wits end with what to do for him, but knowing something had to change!

At the end of our appointment, the SN gave us a questionaire to fill out. One for us and one for his teacher. And, just like in filling out one for Rhys and his special needs, I found it hard. You have to sit there and focus on all the possible negative qualities your child has, and it is tough on a mommy heart. Some of the questions were surprising, such as "has your child ever stolen when confronting others (ie mugging, purse snatching, armed robbery)?" or "Has your child ever assaulted anyone sexually?" Those made me nervous and I was wondering, 'are you sure this is a school questionnaire and not something the police needs to know of?' eep!  You had to give your answers in numbers (0: not true/never all the way to 3: very true/frequently) A lot of them weren't too hard to answer, but a few had me not quite seeing it as my husband did, so we had to discuss them. The easy ones were "does your child blurt out answers before the question is completed?" or "annoys others on purpose" or "is the last to be picked for teams and games." or "is a poor speller" (that seemed strange to me, as if spelling had anything to do with behavioural issues) or "become irritable when anxious?"  (We haven't noticed any anxiety)  

The hardest for me were the last three questions:  does your child's problem seriously effect school work and grades? friendships? home life?

The questionairre also gave a place for us to write down what we thought were his strengths, but after focusing on negative things, it's hard to get into that mind set.  My husband said that he has "good mechanical aptitude". I laughed. That sounds so clinical. Who even knows what that means? I mean, other than my mechanically minded hudband!  We added it anyways.

So now we wait. I'm not too sure what will happen next, but I guess we will hear from the SN Coordinator and maybe do further testing.

Until then, we are trying what we can at home. We are being more strict in his bedtime and are giving him Melatonin to help him sleep.  I have never been one to believe in giving medications on a long term basis (other than ones that are medically needed, such as my thyroid pills and the ones Kai takes for his cardiomyopathy, of course) but we thought this was needed. Especially since it seemed no matter what time we send him to bed at, he was still staying up late and struggling to fall asleep and struggling during the day time. Sleep was one of the concerns his teacher brought up, so we knew we had to address it. 

We were amazed at how it changed him almost immediately! He was suddenly a happier boy! He wasn't fighting much with his siblings anymore and he was helping out in the family and it was just a shock!  I greeted him with a "hello" one morning and he responded "good morning!" cheerfully!  I blinked and wondered who this boy was!  Sometimes change is good!

Even his teacher has noticed! When she asked him about it, he said that his parents were making him take melatonin, and so she asked what he thought about it, to which he replied that it "felt like his brain was awake now"! Wow. What does that say?

I'm not too sure what will happen next, but I guess we are starting a new journey with him. One that has been needed to be addressed for a few years now. I'm apprehensive and nervous, but also hopeful. Maybe this could be the answer to our worries!

Family Field Trip

I let my kids skip school earlier this week!  It was actually their Father's idea! I know, how unusual for him, but he thought it would be something fun to do. Our annual membership to the Vancouver Aquarium was coming to an end and so why not take one last trip downtown? He took the day off of work and we planned to surprise the kids in the morning.

Our first plan of action was to not set our alarms, but to sleep in. Of course, this is my husband, who doesn't know how to sleep in, but that just meant that we could plan it more accurately. He got out of the shower and woke me up and then rushed into the room, yelling at the kids that we were late, we slept in, let's get moving, we have no time for breakfast, let's go!  I was surprised at how calmly the kids were, and how much they didn't grumble!

Our ruse was to say that we had to head into Surrey to drop off Hunny at the skytrain station. That was just so they didn't question why we were going the opposite direction of their school. But then, we stopped at the SMH Outpatient building so that we could FINALLY get Rhys' bloodwork done. (Remember our Genetics apt and the tests that he wanted to do way back in the summer? It has taken us this long to do it. First, the phlebotomist' couldn't figure out what one test was and was waiting to hear back from the doctor. Then we had to fast for one of them. Then Rhys didn't do well and had his vein collapse during one test. And then we just plain forgot over time. *blush* But we have finally done it. And hopefully it is all good and we will get answers next month!) I went in with him while Hunny took the kids for a quick breakfast, grabbing us something as well (Rhys had to fast for one of them, so we just made everyone wait on breakfast to make it easier!)  It was after we got picked up from the Centre that we told the kids the news!  They actually responded not as excitedly as we were hoping! Instead, they talked about how they already guessed something was up! haha. We have astute children!  Having their Father and I so calm about being "late" probably threw them off. They also guessed since I "forgot" to make them all lunches for school and suddenly Hunny had some course to go to for the day that they hadn't heard of!

It was a fun morning trying to be sneaky!

 The Rainforest section. I like this part. It's so humid inside though, but I like being warm, and I like how you see other animals other than just aquatic ones. There are Marmosets, tree frogs, ducks, sloths, parrots and these macaws to name a few.  I obviously have toddlers because I was thinking of all the Baby Marmosets and Blue Macaws that Dora and Diego have rescued or helped out or seen in their Nick Jr. shows!

Jellies!  They fascinate me! I love the jellyfish section. I didn't realize there were so many different varieties!

Rhys found a different type of "fish" in this tank!  By coming early in the morning, and on a school day, we got to watch some tanks be cleaned. We also weren't trying to keep track of kids or find spots to see through crowds. It was nice!

I love the Tropical section where you can see some sharks and the sea turtle! Thanks to the movie Little Nemo, now every time I see the sea turtle, I have to say "Duuuude!"  (the kids don't get it!)  This tank is huge and very busy!

Little Nemos!!! The Clownfish were Eden's favourite.

We had a great day at the Aquarium. Since it wasn't busy (two or three classes arrived by lunchtime, or at least we were all in the same place at that time) we got to watch the Beluga show and the Dolphin show. We had never been able to see those before due to crowds, so it was so neat! I had no idea that dolphins could swim so fast!  I love seeing all of the tricks that the dolphins and belugas had learned to do. I'm not a big "fish" person, but it must be amazing to work with these animals!

It was worth it to skip school!

A Needed Reminder

I have been feeling so much stress lately due to my kids being sick. I haven't slept. I have been worrying about what to do next, how I could help, and just feeling overwhelmed. So much so that on last Friday night, I was done. Done with my week. Done with everything. I just wanted to curl up in a ball in my bed, eating chocolate alone in the dark.

And I saw this:

Lord, look -- we're facing some big things.
And You whisper: "Child, look -- look at Me.
Now You're facing the Best thing, who dwarfs all the other things."
And we exhale.. and we get it, God, because that is the thing:
Prayer isn't so much to remind our God of what all the problems are --
but to remind all the problems of who our God is.

And You cup us close tonight and tell us: No matter what you're facing, look into My face -- and know it, feel it: Your God is greater than what you're trying to face, your God is bigger than what you're trying to escape, your God is better than anything you're trying to chase.
And our problems fade in the light of Your gentle face, Your tender embrace....

It was on Ann Voskamp's FB page and it was just what I needed to read.

I had to stop and consider something after that. Just how much of this unnecessary stress that I was carrying was brought before my Lord? The one who holds the earth in place, who put breath in my lungs, created me and knows my innermost being, how much have I shared with Him? 

It wasn't guilt that hit me that night. But more of a silence. What is there to say when you are face to face with the truth? 

I hold on to things and I struggle to let go. Even when I want to. It is such a habit of mine to think that I can carry it all, and to fail miserably when I can't, and then to feel depressed when I fall. Isn't it so encouraging to know that He picks you back up again, without judgement or anger, and just holds you? What love!   Maybe when I struggle with trying to do it all, I need to remember that I am not meant to, and that He is the one who is Greater.  I don't need to carry this. It's going to be okay.

To the magenta-haired woman in Walmart tonight

Hi, Magenta-haired woman. 

I saw you arrive at Walmart the same time that I did. I was getting out to pick up some tape and milk, and to get a breather away from fussy kids. (Basically, my Hunny made me go because I needed a Time Out from my own grouchiness). I don't know why you were out with your three young boys, but I heard you warn them that they had better not ask for anything while shopping. That made me smile.

I found you here and there as I wandered. Mostly I heard you. You kept telling Riley to stop touching things. And hanging off things. And climbing on things. And running around. Dear Riley was just plain getting on your nerves.

I felt bad for Riley and I wondered why you were so grouchy with this boy, who only looked about three years old. He was bound to get into mischief in the store. Plus, it was past his bedtime. (that is, it was past my girl's bedtime; she went to bed early because of her naughtiness!) 

As I wondered about how you were possibly being too harsh on children who did not know any better (they were boys, in a store, at night, bored.... But I will add that they weren't badly behaved) I also saw a refelection of myself.  Yes, before you start thinking this is a post about mothers who are verbally abusive in public, or those who 'shouldn't be mothers' or something about poor innocent children, this isn't that at all.  Dear Magenta-haired woman, you were annoyed shopping with them and you were acting rushed, and all at once I understood.

You stood in the shoe section, telling Riley not to pull all of the shoes down, while telling the older two to try something on. And I browsed the toy aisle for birthday ideas, and I remembered.  That annoyance of having to last-minute shop for a child. "What do you mean you need new shoes? We just bought you a pair two months ago. Where are....what did you do to them???" I remember having to drag children out to the store at a time when you hoped would be spend quietly and politely doing homework or pre-bedtime ritual stuff (not that it's usally quiet, but I always hope it will be). Instead, they are running around a store, touching eveything, asking for junk, laying on the floor, driving you bonkers.

And I remembered the frustration I felt today for my own three year old. Who wanted to assert her own will, her own personality, her own demands. And I just wanted her to be quiet and obedient.

Remember how I said that I was out shopping alone because I needed a Time Out?
Yeah. I get it.

So, as I found you and your boys checking out at the same as I did, I did give you more Grace. Because we all need it. And we've all been there. Some days just go on so long, and are so tiring and you are grouchy, and you are just longing for your own Quiet Time.  For those days, I give you the Solidary Pound It!  I did avoid your check out line though. But I wanted you to know that I was thinking of my own behaviour today. It was less-than-steller. 

Tomorrow I will offer more Grace. And Patience. And Kindness. We could all use it.

Especially my three year old. Maybe I'll let her bake cookies with me.

Bad things only come in threes, right?

 It's been a rough few weeks. Not that I noticed it as being out of the ordinary or anything. Sure, some of these things don't happen often at all (thankfully) but really, it wasn't a concern of mine. Until a co-worker of my husband pointed it out.

He said I have a curse over me. Or maybe he said Hex. Or maybe just a stroke of bad luck. Whatever his actual sentance, he implied that bad things were happening to me.

Starting with my minor-almost-major accident mid-October.  I was innocently backing out of a special order parking spot at a fast food restaurant I'd rather not name but it starts with an Mc. I shoulder checked, saw it was all clear, looked in my side-view mirrors and noticed the large black garbage bin, and then reversed until I heard this horrible Crunch sound. That noise of breaking plastic, and crunching fibreglass. Oh the horrors! I parked and realized, to my shame, that not only was there a large garbage bin to my left (the direction I had to back up in), but directly in front of it was a tall, bright yellow, cement piller. How did I not see that???

My bumper looked terrible! My tail lights were completely gone!

We would have to pay for it to be fixed, but thankfully we do have good insurance coverage, but wow. I felt so silly! How did I not see that tall yellow cement thing? I'm so embarrassed!

But it gets better...

A few weeks later, as I am pulling out of a drive thru lane and onto a busy road, I decided to take the corner a bit tighter so that drivers in the second lane don't get too nervous. You know how it is; you see a vehicle pull into the lane beside you but it always looks like they're going to go into you. I am good at keeping my van in my own lane, but thought I'd be consientous, so I took the right turn more sharp. And heard a Thump and Bump and a large Groan. (The groan was me, along with some frustration.) When I was able to pull over and inspect my van, I see this huge dent in the passenger side sliding door! You have got to be kidding me!  There was a pole just at the corner of where the road and lane met and when I took the turn sharp, my van introduced itself, much to my chagrin.  

Sadly, and coincidentally, this happened in the exact same drive thru lane that my earlier mishap occurred.  My husband thinks that it is a sign that I should stop going through fast food drive thrus. Silly man. It just means I avoid that particular one!

Although I really do need to cut back on those drive thrus. They're just so convenient, and I really do not like cooking!

My third event happened a few weeks later...

I had innocently placed my glasses on my head as I usually do once I get home and started to prepare dinner. I am supposed to wear my glasses all of the time due to my near sightedness, but find that when I am inside and doing basic things I am okay. There isn't too much that I need to see far away. (I do need to put on my glasses if the kids want to show me something from across the room, or I want to watch tv though. And I definitely need them for driving!)  I don't know if this is a normal thing or not, or if my eyes are getting better or what, but it's been this way for a year now.  

With my glasses on my head, I leaned my head down to look at a recipe, and my glasses slid down and hit the floor. Into two pieces!

 That wasn't very impressive!  Of course, I don't have a replacement-back up pair.

(think anyone will notice?)

I tried a hot glue gun repair, but that didn't work. I even tried some pretty decorative washi tape, but that was only a very temporary fix.  Finally my sister suggested Gorilla Glue, since she had seen a commercial on tv how it fixed some glasses. And, hey, look at that, it worked!  The only problem is that they made my glasses look so terrible and messy, and the strong glue chemicals (or whatever it was) made my eyes sting and hurt after a while.  But I could see. Mostly.  Just until I could get a new pair of glasses, which I ordered from clearlycontacts. (If you haven't ordered contacts or glasses from them, I would recommend them! They have great selection and even better prices! I managed to pick up my new ones by Bebe at only $69, which was a blessing since we didn't have an emergency glasses fund.  Since Clearly Contacts is based out of Vancouver, it only took 3 business days for the pair to arrive! Yes!) *

So there you have it. Three accidents within 5 weeks!

I am really hoping that my Hunny's co-worker is correct and that bad things only happen in threes. That means I'm covered for a while, and things will go more smoothly now, right?



* I wasn't paid to say that about Clearly Contacts, although that would've been nice!  This is just my own opinion based upon buying glasses from them online for a few years now.

Another PSA just to let you know

Another Public Service Announcement (PSA), just to let you know.


If you run out of eggs in your house, but you don't want to pack up all of the kids to run to the store just to pick up some since it will result in a full basket of extras and whiney children all asking for junk food snacks.... but you NEED eggs so that you can make some cupcakes for the other kids since they aren't exactly invited to their brother's pool party and you feel guilty and are trying to make things better....

If you happened to read online all these wonderful ideas on how to successfully substitute eggs from a recipe and thought that it sounded easy....

If you are wondering if you can possibly use something else instead of eggs in your box cake recipe, I am here to help you out!

You can not substitute eggs with water, oil and baking powder in a box cake.  Although it will make your cupcakes super de-dooper fluffy, they will just make them all crumbly.


We were not able to take a cupcake out of the pan without it falling apart. It was disappointing. The Youngers didn't get to have cupcakes...or go to the pool party. Boos all around!


Now you know.


You are welcome.




***If you are wondering about making your own crayons in the oven, here is my other PSA

Come At Me!

I read an article on HuffingtonPost tonight that made me outright gawfaw!  It was full of all sorts of awesome and truth and laughs. And I needed to read it. Just like you do too.

(click on picture to get to link)

Other mamas are just weaving together families using the unique gifts and challenges and interests they have. They're using what they have like I am. They are much too joyful and scared and fulfilled and empty and tired and inspired and busy living their tough, beautiful lives to concern themselves too much with what I'm doing. (Glennon Melton)

We need start being more kind to ourselves and more compassionate to others.

one of "those" days

Today is a good day to make soup and bake cookies and stay in pjs and maybe turn on the heat! It's a bit chilly this morning and the Youngers and I didn't sleep well last night. :(

It's been a rough day. It feels like one of those days where all I've been doing is fighting with the kids:

Stop shoving your brother! Don't dip your hands in your soup! Don't wipe your arms with the soup! You're not 'cleaning', you're mucking! Stop sucking on your sister's suckie! Give him back his Lego! Don't throw your garbage on the floor! Don't climb on the table! Get off the counter! Put the knife back down! I told you to wait for me! Leave your brother alone! Don't pretend to shoot your sister! Put your penis back in your pants! Don't put your juice into your soup, eww! Stop yelling, I don't care who did it! Why can't you just share your toys? NO, I am not mean, don't call names. Be careful! Stop!


ARRRRRRGH!!!

I am glad that in 1 1/2 hours I will leave for the school for the Olders, and (hopefully) the kids will nap!

They aren't any more mean or misbehaving than typical, they are just busy and tired and restless and want to get into everything. I worry that I've already somehow failed Eden though. She can be such a handful and does not listen. She's very headstrong. 

Maybe I"m just far too exhausted to deal with it and it's really not that terrible of a day after all. But I tell you, I am looking forward to nap time!!!