Learning about lobsters at Sobeys

The closest grocery store to our house is Sobeys. It's not the cheapest, but I shop there anyway because I like it. They have wonderful staff, a clean store, and great selection. It's so convenient too!

Brandon's school recently had a cake raffle as a fundraiser. He had a hard time understanding how the raffle worked and that he might not actually win one of the cakes. And even though the draw wasn't completed the day he selected the cake(s) he wanted to try to win, he still had a major cake craving. (#shocker!) So, we went to Sobeys to get cake mix and icing, as well as dinner makings for the next day.

After we finished going through the produce department getting everything I needed from there, we headed back through the seafood area where Brandon always needs to stop and look at the lobsters. On this particular day, there was a very nice gentleman working who offered to show Brandon a lobster up close. He then proceeded to tell Brandon all about the lobster's pincers and what they do with each one, then how they move around on their legs, etc. I was so impressed that this man took the time out of his day to teach Brandon all about the lobsters that B was clearly interested in.

When he got through telling Brandon, who was mostly just enthralled looking at the lobster up close, Brandon said, "Thank you for teaching me all about the lobster." 

I am so proud of him for being so polite.

My kid is showing a scary quick wit

I married a very funny man. Sense of humour was one of my top priorities in a life mate. So, as I've seen Brandon's sense of humour develop, I'm excited to see him so open to being teased. And the boy gives as good as he gets. Now, I'm about to go on a little rabbit trail, but bear with me...it's relevant. Also, be warned - there is a heavy amount of social media lingo in this post. Well, mostly hashtags which are a mystery to many unless you actually use them.

Last fall, Lara (my business partner) and I traveled down to Milton, Ontario for the MomBiz Retreat (if you're a mom with a business, Lara Galloway - not my partner, Lara - and Shelagh Cummins are just lovely and awesome and wickedly similar to me and (my partner) Lara...so ya, just go!) Our first night together, we sat around getting to know each other. We had a fantastically diverse group of funny, amazing women that weekend. And Lara G. introduced us all to this hilarious video of Jimmy Fallon and Justin Timberlake:

#Hashtag<insert whatever> became the inside joke of the weekend. (Yes, we might have all needed the time away. ;)

Fast forward about 6 months and Jimmy Fallon has done more and more social media bits, often around hashtags and this whole thing has become...well, a thing. Matt has recently started going around tapping his fingers together and peppering his conversations with hashtags - usually they're sarcastic. One that he pulls out with me quite often is "hashtag shocker." Apparently, I'm predictable.

So, this past weekend, we were chillin' in the basement, playing a little Super Maria Galaxy 2 and I was doing a particular level that Brandon knew was kind of difficult. Sitting beside me, he watched the screen, giving me a thumbs up every time I successfully got through a difficult maneuver.

Until I fell off or got hit by too many baddies. I don't even remember. All I remember was him catching my attention, looking me in the eye as he slowly rotated that thumb from the up position to down. (I kid you not - he emphasized my failure in slow motion.) And if that wasn't enough to make me keel over, he paired it with, "hashtag shocker." 

He has the face of a child who enjoys a good laugh, doesn't he?

I thought I was going to bust my gut laughing. Matt was sitting there wondering where he got it. (I guess he forgot that he has been saying this stuff pretty regularly of late. Meh...he's getting older.)

Brandon was pretty pleased with himself. Nothing makes him happier than scoring a genuine laugh from someone. As proud as I am, I know I'm going to have to work pretty hard to keep up with that boy. He's not even 6 and he's throwing out zingers left, right and center. 

I still can't believe this happened, but it did

The following is 100% true. I am pretty sure I couldn't make it up if I tried.

This set is fun. Just don't breathe on or touch it.

Roughly every two weeks on Sunday, we take Brandon to see his occupational therapist. He adores going to see her. He always chooses a toy to take to show her once he's done playing her games. Unfortunately, this particular Sunday his choice was a Lego set that is really not travel friendly. Essentially, it falls apart if you breathe on it. 

(What is UP with that, anyway? As my friend reminded me when I relayed the story to her, we all grew up with teeth marks on our Lego because they were so tight fitting. But our beautiful creations never fell apart - heck, we were lucky if we could get them to come apart on purpose.)

Brandon was still trying to get over the excitement of Valentine's Day and a late night Friday had him pretty tired, so us saying no to the delicate Lego set didn't go over well. I thought we were going to have to cancel OT, but Brandon wanted to go badly enough that he calmed down and chose a different, slightly less fragile toy. 

But the way things went turned Matt into a ball of stress. (Thank goodness we don't both turn into balls of stress at the same time. If we did, we'd really be in trouble!) We needed to get out the door a bit earlier than usual because Matt had promised we'd pick up Brandon his favourite bagel on the way.

So, of course, we got out the door right on time.

And, naturally, something funky happened with Brandon's car seat that made it next to impossible to loosen or tighten. We never did figure out what on earth happened.

Being the weaker of the two of us, I delegated that to the big ball of stress (a.k.a. Matt), which didn't reduce his stress, though he got the job done. 

Whew...finally on the road and I might have been making an effort to make up some time. Which is about when we heard a huge thump and Matt had what appeared to be a mini-stroke beside me and may have uttered a few expletives as a pale green tinge took over his face. Turns out he just realized that in his growing ball of stress state, he'd left Brandon's iPad on top of the car. 

I turned to go get the bagel, stopping long enough to let Matt out of the car to run back down the major four/sometimes six lane road to find Brandon's iPad. I was hoping with everything in me that his iPad had somehow survived the flight off the car. I was also hoping that Matt would be ultra careful in his panicked state so that he didn't end up getting hit by a car.

It didn't take long for Matt to come rushing back, letting me know that the phone/iPad-finding app indicated the iPad was up the road a fair bit further than he thought. So, we headed back the way we came. We didn't get far before Matt barked out an order for me to turn right immediately. I did. Apparently, the location of the iPad had just updated (there is definitely lag sometimes) and it was indeed where we thought it was.

In the process of turning around, we went through a private company's driveway which is littered with huge speedbumps that I immediately wished I could cut off the asphalt to save myself time. About the 2nd or 3rd bump (there must have been somewhere between 8-12; it felt like 100), we heard our second thump of the day - this one was much quieter.

Simultaneously, I said, "What on earth is going on!?" and Matt turned around where he saw Brandon's iPad sitting on the rear window of the car. 

It had been on top of the car the WHOLE time.

I know why Matt didn't see it. It was a stressful, panic-filled morning. He was sure that first thump, while probably not the iPad had knocked it off the car at the very least. Thankfully, the iPad was completely unharmed by it's little adventure. Matt's relief over finding the iPad in one piece actually seemed to alleviate his own stress that had been building all morning.

Now, you might think that was the end of this little tale. But you'd be wrong.

The thing is, OT is roughly 25-30 minutes from our house. We got out the door about 35 minutes prior to our appointment, the car seat took up over 5 minutes. Then, the iPad incident/bagel run took up about 15 minutes. We were only 5 minutes away from our house when we finally got on our way. We were off the main drag at this point as well, which was going to add some time to our trip.

When I got to a stoplight where I had to decide which way I was going to go, I made a good decision, because as soon as I got through the light, Brandon said, "I have to go potty." And it was a semi-desperate request. Matt and I might have given in to hysterical laughter right then and there if we hadn't needed to find a good spot for Brandon to take care of business.

All I can say is, thank goodness for vacant buildings with huge snow piles. (Quote of the day: "I'm helping the sun melt the snow, Daddy!")

And we were on our way for the third time that morning in less than 30 minutes. This time, all of our stuff was inside the car where it needed to be, there wasn't any trouble with the car seat and traffic and stop lights worked in our favour so that we were only about 8 minutes late.

Brandon spends his therapy appointments alone with his therapist while Matt and I have gotten into the habit of going for a quick breakfast or coffee and a chat. We used to have an arrangement where only one of us went, but we're enjoying this little bit of time together, so I imagine we will keep doing it. This particular week, I spent half of our breakfast time laughing at the craziness of our morning. And Matt told me to bite my tongue when I asked him if the day could get any worse. ;)

But the day was actually a very good one in the end. And even the morning's mishaps all ended well. My heart rate might even settle down by next week!

I hope you all had a wonderful Family Day with your family yesterday if you live where we have FD. Ours was infinitely more relaxing than the day before Family Day. ;)

Finding the silver lining

This week has been a mixed bag. I'm looking forward to great things happening in my business this year. Matt is pursuing his interests in RC (remote control) in various ways this year. It's nice for him to be free to spend more time on hobbies he enjoys. Brandon is doing really well. He's got his own allowance now and he's paying for his own toys and he's okay with waiting and saving up to get things he wants. So far. Things have been so good this year so far, but then yesterday happened.

Matt was heading home when our SUV started acting up. It was trying to stall out at every stop light. Getting stuck in the middle of an intersection in rush hour is a chilling prospect, but he managed to get the car to the nearest place he could get it looked at. They diagnosed that it needed new spark plugs and something or other was wrong in the ignition. They did the work and sent him on his way. Except that the problem wasn't fixed. He went back and the car got to stay at its new temporary home. As soon as it's in good working order, we're selling it. It's been too frustrating to spend the amount of money we've been spending to keep it in good repair. We lived with one car before, so now we'll be down to one car again. We can totally live with that for a little while. 

It was a stressful evening. Matt was stuck getting the car fixed. I was home alone with Brandon juggling dinner, baking a cake to appease Brandon because he didn't understand how his school's cake raffle worked, keeping in touch with Matt about what was happening, and generally trying not to sink into a poor me pity party. Fortunately, today I can see a lot of really good things.

We made a decision about the car that was hard in a way, but takes so much stress off. Being down to one car again isn't ideal, especially since it's my tiny little Fiesta Matt will have to shoehorn himself into every day. 

I love my new little car. :)

Unrelated to the car, Matt and I were dropping Brandon off together this morning. I always read him a book in the kinder room and then take him to the school age room to be with the rest of the kids for the first part of the morning. Once I've signed him in, I give him two hugs and kisses, then he gives me two hugs and kisses and often he asks for one more from me. He always tells me he loves me and I tell him I love him back. And I have to say goodbye to him or he won't let me leave. He will remind me to "pick him up short" (early) most days as well. 

As Matt and I were leaving after Brandon repeated hugs and kisses with his daddy, one of the teachers walked by and said, "I know you're not supposed to have favourites, but...." We laughed. She isn't the first to say that to us about Brandon and I'm so touched by the love he gets from so many of his teachers. She then proceeded to talk about how sweet he is and how much she enjoys his teaching her about Star Wars. (He's determined that everyone in his world will know and love Star Wars.)

So ya. Yesterday ended in a spectacularly frustrating way, but today is looking brighter and sunnier than ever. 

A week with Ford tech for Father's Day

When I was asked if I wanted to do anything with Ford Ottawa for Father's Day, I jumped at the chance. We've been talking for about six months now about getting a second vehicle. Our top contenders were the Ford Escape and the Ford Focus. The Escape has been eliminated from the short list and I've added the Ford Fiesta as of last week when I saw the non-hatchback version - super cute! We really like our SUV and want a small, more fuel-efficient second vehicle. Sadly, the C-Max is not in our price range. (Bummer! I sure loved it!)

As you might have noticed, I'm a little late writing about Father's Day. I'm perpetually late these days, to be honest. Although, I did get Matt his Father's Day present early - as in the same week as Mother's Day. Let's just say I way overestimated how long it would take to come. Father's Day part two will be a whole week of taking a car we may purchase for a test run and the thing we both want to check out the most? The tech!

Matt's been talking about Ford's technology for years. Each time I've used one of the Ford vehicles for trips, he's had to look it over, but this is the first time I'm not taking the car and leaving him. It will be right in our driveway for a full week for him to peruse to his heart's content. And I'll be right there by his side.

All this talk about driving a Ford got me reminiscent. I have a lot - a LOT - of Fords in my past. In fact, not counting my current vehicle - which has the distinction of being my very first brand new car purchase ever - my favorite and least favorite vehicles to drive were both Fords. 

My favorite was the Ford Bronco II. In fact, the SUV we have right now handles so much like that Bronco II, that might be why I enjoy driving it so much. The Bronco II was my first standard transmission and I actually learned to drive stick in it. Actually, it wasn't mine. My brother had a very unfortunate knee injury which meant he couldn't drive standard for quite a while. So, he gave me his Bronco II and I gave him my Ford Tempo. The trade was fairly even. The truck didn't have A/C anymore and the Tempo didn't have much pickup. ;)  Once I got the hang of driving stick, that truck was a dream to drive. I finally understood why people enjoy driving vehicles with standard transmissions. Everyone should learn...including Matt so we can finally buy one!

Image Source: Wikipedia

The least favorite car is probably a predecessor of the Ford Tempo. And, like the Tempo, it is not a jewel in Ford's design and performance history, I'm sure. Even Scott Monty would probably have trouble marketing the Ford Fairmont circa 198-whatever year it was - '81 or '83, I think. I drove it in the mid '90s, so it had aged a fair bit. I told my mom it would go zero to sixty in five minutes. I would even lean forward in the driver's seat as I went up hills (Tallahassee is a hillacious city!) and willing the car to just please go.

I also drove a Ford Taurus for a while. I didn't even care that I was 18 driving a family sedan. It was a nice car and it had a keypad on the door so I could lock my keys in the car and not have to worry about getting back in. That feature and the miles to empty (this was in the U.S., not Canada) saved me numerous times.  

So, I'm really looking forward to using Ford technology again in the Ford Focus [PDF] and spend a week poking around and really getting to know what the car can do.  

The ebb and flow of balance in our family - it's not "fair"

My friend, Annie, recently wrote about Marissa Mayer and Sheryl Sandberg  - two very accomplished women - and their decisions and comments that could be detrimental to families should their philosophies be openly implemented far and wide. Mayer's no-working-from-home inflexibility is already a reality in many businesses and I have no doubt that the law doesn't stop businesses from asking women about their plans for having a family. I have personally had comments made to me on more than one occasion that were at least borderline if not outright illegal.

A lot of the articles around these recent events are about achieving balance in families. The question of balance is often heavily weighted toward the need for it in women, but what about men? Or, what about overall balance in the family unit?

Actually, let me back up and say I don't believe there is such a thing as balance in the sense of a one size fits all amount of time to spend working and with family. I also don't think that balance for one family is going to look the same as balance for another family. I've written about the juggling act of work and family and gender roles before and - after reading it again - things have changed quite a lot for us in the last two years.

What our balance looks like

Since 2013 began, I've reduced my hours at my day job from full-time to part-time. This change was supported by my employer without hesitation. My co-workers have been equally supportive. My husband has given me an incredible amount of support as I pursue building a new business, but my new business is every bit as much work for him as it is for me. It's created an imbalance (temporarily for an indeterminate period of time) that was hard for him at first - change doesn't come easy to him. However, he worked through that adjustment in our lives and accepted it gracefully. His support of what I am doing has been unwavering since. I give him full credit for his efforts because it's just not easy to go from the surety and "security" of a salary to the ebbs and flows of consulting work.

I'm painfully aware that I allow Matt to do far more than his fair share of housework and parenting. He works full-time, does dishes, his laundry, cleans, vacuums, takes out the trash, buys groceries, gets the mail, and countless other things.

I've been sick for most of this year with one bug or another and working late most nights added to illness added to working through the day have made me drowsy and sluggish in the mornings. I wake up later and later and my poor husband bears the brunt of getting himself ready, getting Brandon ready, making breakfast for both of them, packing Brandon's lunch, book bag and daycare bag, packing the car and ushering everyone out the door. It's taken a toll on him and he's stressed and tired, so that imbalance has to shift.

We only have one car, so the commute involves first dropping Brandon off, then Matt, and I take the car most days. Brandon is at daycare for 9-9.5 hours. I pick Matt up first and he and I go spend some time at home alone. We talk about our day, do a bit of cleaning, then one or both of us will go pick up Brandon.

Imbalance in division of duties doesn't necessarily mean an unhappy family.

Unless Brandon has therapy. In that case, he gets picked up early and I take him to his appointments. I've taken on the lion's share of paperwork, appointments and other logistics of getting Brandon treatment. Matt is aware of what's going on and stays involved, but I have more flexibility for appointments and Brandon has many, many appointments. There is a perceived imbalance and I do more than my "fair" share, but it's working better than if I insisted Matt help.

We typically get home in the evening between 5:30 and 6:00. Matt or I prepare dinner for Brandon. I sometimes prepare dinner for myself. Sometimes we all three even eat together, but our dinnertime flexibility allows Brandon time to play, which is something he needs. He goes to bed early and he needs downtime as well. I dream of the day when we all three sit at a table at the same time to eat every night. We're not there yet, and it may take a while, but this is what works for our family right now. We're spending time together and that's the important thing.

After dinner and playtime, Brandon gets to watch a little TV before bed. At bedtime, I  lay down with Brandon for him to settle into rest more quickly. I enjoy this one-on-one snuggle time with my baby and I would miss it if he stopped wanting it, even though there have been many nights I wished I didn't have to do it. Matt spends this time eating his dinner or doing various household chores. Nearly every night when I leave Brandon's room, I head to the office to work some more.

By 10pm most nights, Matt is in bed trying to sleep, if not out cold. I try to shut down at 11pm and then spend some time reading to wind down my brain. However, it'snot unusual for me to stay up until 2am or 3am if I get really focused on something. (It's no wonder I'm sluggish at 6am.)

Some nights, I go out to functions, which leaves Matt in charge of doing everything for the evening. He doesn't complain and I know I've got it good.

This time in our lives is tricky. It's requiring Matt to sacrifice his hobbies and downtime. It hasn't been easy for him and I won't pretend it hasn't caused problems between us. The better my business does, and the more Matt sees that I'm not leading us down the garden path, the less he minds the sacrifice. I like to think he is seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I know I am.

Like Sarah Lacy, I don't expect anyone else to want *my* life and *my* version of balance for themselves. This is what works for me and my family right now. A year from now, the picture will likely look very different. 

If individual couples can figure out that balance requires flexibility and constant renegotiation, then companies need to learn that as well. They may just find that employees enjoy their work and become more productive as a result.

On the road to "home"

Although Ottawa has become my home and I can’t imagine living anywhere else, I also still think of the US/Florida/Tallahassee as my home. Yesterday I ventured across the border for the first time in over 5 years. There’s a combination of reasons for this delay - the most embarrassing is that I let all my travel documents expire. (Don’t do that, okay?)

So, we left Ottawa yesterday morning - not nearly as early as I’d hoped, but such is life! Brandon fell asleep on our way to the border and was snoring softly as I waited in line to see the border guard. We passed through without any issues, though Brandon did wake up because the car had stopped moving. And, despite staying up very late the night before, that was the last he slept in the car all day.

A couple of hours later, we both got hungry and when I saw a Cracker Barrel sign, I couldn’t resist! 

Also, they had a violin, and Brandon has been asking for one for weeks! (Score!) Unfortunately, it requires batteries and the cover is screwed on. I didn’t pack batteries or a screwdriver for this trip. (Fail!)

After getting through the lovely rush-hour traffic in Harrisburg, PA, Brandon said his tummy was grumpy. Combine, windy roads, rain and dark and his first epic road trip and it’s understandable. We ended up stopped 3 hours shy of our goal.

That means we won’t get to Tallahassee until Sunday, but it’s all good. I’m enjoying the time with Brandon. He’s a good co-pilot.

A little side note: we’re also really enjoying driving in the Ford C-Max that Ford Ottawa gave me to use for this trip. It doesn’t look very large, but it’s nice and roomy. There isn’t as much cargo space as I would like and I had to ditch one of the suitcases I’d planned to bring along, but packing light isn’t a bad thing! 

I’m going to talk about it some more later, especially since I’m honestly considering it as a second vehicle now that I’ve driven it. (Of course, I’m not sure when we’ll finally get around to getting a second vehicle!) I’ve tried out the Ford Edge, the new Focus and now the C-Max and the C-Max is my favourite so far. 

Best part? Filling it up isn’t nearly as painful as when I fill up my other car. And we won’t get into the difference in what we’re paying in Canada compared to the US. It’s bad, you guys.

Sunrise to sunset: a beautiful, but tragic day

As I drove in to work this morning, I had the urge no less than about 20 times to stop the car and get out my camera to capture the sunrise. I was so captivated by it. The sun was this huge orange ball in the sky, slowly rising into obscurity behind a bank of clouds, only to slowly peek out again over them. For 30 minutes, I watched as it got higher and higher, hoping that when I (finally) got to a place where I could stop that it wouldn’t be too late to take the pictures I wanted.

This wasn’t the most stunning part of the sunrise, but it was still very pretty. The day started out with this beauty that fascinated me. I became obsessed with capturing that beauty, even if only a piece of it, to look back and remember.

It’s hard to believe that with such a beautiful start to the day it would just hours later turn to grief and heartache for the community of Newtown, Connecticut. The sun no doubt rose over Sandy Hook Elementary in similar brilliant fashion. But I’ll never understand what drove a young man to murder his mother, eight of her colleagues and 18 children. There is no doubt in my mind that he was a very troubled young man. 

This mass shooting - a horrendous tragedy - has had a profound effect on me. I’ve never cried before. I did today. I cried because my own little boy is in school and I know I would be devastated if he witnessed or was injured or even killed through similar circumstances.

All afternoon, I fought tears in my effort to maintain a professional front. All I wanted to do was go pick Brandon up from daycare and hold him close. Though I ended up working late, that’s exactly what I did. I gave him a big hug and then we just hung out together. 

He helped me smile again, despite the sadness of the day.

The best part of the day was bedtime. I lay in his bed snuggled with him where he told me he loves me very much. And I cried, because I love him so much too, but also because hearing those words out of my little guy’s mouth is one of the sweetest things I could ever receive. I can count on my hands how many times I’ve heard those three words pass his lips, but tonight he said it three times. 

It’s almost like he knew I needed to hear it. He let me snuggle with him and hug him close and tell him I love him back. And I stayed with him until he dropped off to sleep.

My heart aches for the parents and loved ones who won’t ever hear their children say they love them or get to hug and snuggle with them again. I hope and pray that they have beautiful memories to cherish. Most of all, I hope they find peace. The Sandy Hook children and faculty will not be forgotten. 

Am I enough?

As a mother I find myself doubting my worth far too often. I know I’m not alone.

When I see stories of families who are raising children with special needs (of any kind) there is almost always some amazing hook to the story.

Maybe the mom is teaching her kids the alphabet thru cooking with whole foods that have no sugar or any preservatives.

Maybe the dad has taught his kids to sing and all six children are learning different instruments to become the next Von Trap family.

I, however, feel very average. I’m not crafty or artistic. (Matt will tell you. I draw a frog and it looks like a deformed cat.)

What can I do to help Brandon discover the best parts of himself? How can I facilitate that which I don’t yet even know myself?

One thing I know without a doubt: Brandon is the child of my dreams. I longed to hold him in my arms for six long years. He’s brought so much joy to our lives.

I will make him laugh.

I will teach him interesting (and occasionally boring) things.

I will be silly with him.

I will guide him.

Somehow, what I have to offer will be enough.

Anticipation and thanks

Source: USA Federal HolidaysToday is Thanksgiving Day in the United States. 

I miss it.

The last time I truly celebrated Thanksgiving with my family was 12 years ago. It was the same week I left Florida to move to Canada. 

Thanksgiving was always a special time. My mom and I stayed up ridiculously late nearly every year mixing fillings and rolling out pie crusts. We always made about seven pies. Two to three pumpkin, one cherry (for me), one mincemeat, one-two pecan, sometimes apple. We packed them up in our two big Tupperware pie carriers and loaded them in the car for the trek to my great uncle and aunt’s house. They lived on a river and we drove three hours every Thanksgiving morning with the whole family in tow to bring our contribution to the annual family gathering.

We always stopped in the same diner in Perry, Florida. I always tried to avoid breathing in the putrid smell of the paper mill. Eventually I gave up and tried to get used to it. Both attempts were futile - it’s too pungent to block or get used to in a short one-hour visit.

By the time we got to my great uncle and aunt’s house, some family had already arrived and lunch preparations were well underway. Thankfully, there was time for a lengthy trip in the canoe or a lively croquet match amongst the trees in the front yard. Sometimes some of the family would even go fishing. The adults enjoyed time together visiting and catching up on the news of the year. My brothers and I, along with our cousins, scattered to the places we were most interested in on that particular day. 

I don’t think I went a single year without heading out in the canoe. Or the motorboat if my cousin was up to it. I even enjoyed playing croquet. We found ways to make a seemingly boring game fun. (Hint: It is incredibly satisfying to send your brother’s or father’s formerly-in-the-lead ball flying well off the course.)

This year I’m thankful that in a few short weeks I’m going to have the absolute pleasure of introducing my family to my most amazing little boy for the very first time. I’m going to meet my two youngest nieces that I have only known in pictures since their births. 

Every time I think about it, I want to whoop for joy and do cartwheels (except I never learned how). It’s way past time for a visit and I sincerely hope I never go this long without seeing my family ever again.

Whether you’re in the U.S. today or not - be thankful for the people who make up your family. Whether you’ve chosen them, they’ve chosen you or you were thrown together by forces of nature. And if you’re close enough, give them a hug.

So...apparently I lied to Brandon's teacher this week

Brandon’s junior kindergarten teacher is wonderful. She’s a lovely young woman with so much energy and compassion for children. I couldn’t be happier with the lottery that landed us in her class. She’s made so much extra effort with Brandon since before school even started. From visiting him at daycare to calling and spending nearly an hour on the phone with me to discuss his situation. She’s called almost every week since school started to talk about how things are going or give us updates on one thing or another. 

She’s exactly the kind of teacher I hoped for Brandon to get. If he has teachers like this woman every year, we will have a stellar school experience. Brandon’s principle is wonderful too. I feel like we’re all on Team Brandon - doing everything we can to help him succeed. 

So, of course, I lied to a key team member this week.

Brandon’s teacher called to tell me how well his day went after we made a change that we all anticipated would lead to some difficulty. When she called, she mentioned a book that Brandon’s been reading for a couple of weeks, introduced to him by his daycare teachers. The book? Mortimer by Robert Munsch.

I never read Robert Munsch growing up, so if you’re like me, here’s the man himself reading Mortimer:

It’s a cute book - even cuter if you’re looking at the pictures.

Why did this come up? Because B’s teacher wondered if the yelling Brandon has been doing (sometimes) is mimicking the book. I assured her that he isn’t really known for doing that. He’ll often quote books (at odd, completely out of context times), but I said it’s unusual for him to start acting them out or even copying behaviours in the books that are negative.

I found A Bunch of Munsch on Netflix last weekend and Brandon has started requesting to watch them regularly. (People, the show has trumped Thomas - this is big news.) It’s so weird, though. I can see why it appeals to kids, but as an adult seeing it for the first time I’m finding it hard to enjoy. It bugs me that the stories diverge so far from the books, too. Sure, the basic nuts and bolts are there, but there’s so much filler that makes me wonder what the writers were on when they dreamed it up.

One of the books that Brandon has been drawn to is The Boy in the Drawer. I think this one has an actual lesson in it for kids, but it’s so vague I would be truly impressed at the child who can verbalize it without help. Mind you, I could be reading something into something that isn’t there. Here’s the cartoon version - embellishments at all:

If I have to have that song in my head, you do too. :-p

Now, I know you’re wondering about this lie I’ve mentioned. I didn’t know I lied until yesterday afternoon when Brandon came running into my room and said there was a tiger in his sock drawer. Shockingly, I did not make the connection at first. I told Brandon we better go investigate. We crept into his room ever so quietly to keep from rousing the tiger. I slowly opened the drawer and screamed!!!

How did a tiger get in his sock drawer?! And he’s reading a book!

Hmmm…just like The Boy in the Drawer (click that link to listen to Munsch reading the book).

Today, Brandon ran over to tell me that the tiger threw his socks all over his room. I thought this was a brilliant opportunity to get him to pick up his mess since he was clearly play-acting out the book. However, unlike Shelly who did what her mother told her to do, Brandon doesn’t like to clean up messes regardless of who makes them.

I think next week, I’ll have to let his daycare know that they need to find some books that encourage tidiness and stop reading the ones that are so messy. ;)

Ultimately, I couldn’t be happier with this development. More and more I see Brandon using his imagination and books are such a huge part of it. I always wanted him to love reading and he does. I couldn’t be happier about it.

I should probably let Brandon’s teacher know that I lied to her now. 

I'm done coasting...time to accelerate

I was reading a friend’s blog today and I saw my blog in her sidebar and it showed my last update as 5 weeks ago. 

!!!

I write what I want to write, when I want to write it.Surprisingly, it does and doesn’t feel like it’s been that long to me. It’s been a long time since I neglected to update my blog for so long, but so long as I’m not obligated to create content for anyone other than me, myself and I, this blog won’t be having regular updates unless I have time.

The thing is, right now, time is in short supply:

Exhibit A

Social Capital 2012 is over so the last minute rush is done, but planning for next year will begin very soon.

Exhibit B

I started this business with Lara and things are going really well. (You should have seen my ear-to-ear grin as she and I discussed recent developments the other day. We’re very excited. I’ve never had to work so hard before, but I’ve also never enjoyed what I’m doing as much as this.) I also wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone but Lara - she’s an amazing person to work with.

Exhibit C

There’s also the appointments, phone calls, emails, paperwork, and everything else associated with getting Brandon assessed. It’s a long process that doesn’t end with the assessments and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I’ve been so fortunate that many people in my life are experienced in this process or work in the system. I’m stumbling through but I’m not tripping and falling - I owe that to the amazing friends (some new, some old) that have jumped in to save me.

Exhibit D

Oh yeah, there’s also the small matter that Brandon has switched daycares twice this year and will soon be starting school. And, omg, doing all of this while ramping up the assessment process? Pass me a Tums or 20, please? Or a beer. Or wine. Chocolate works too. Any vice will do.

Exhibit E

How on earth do I have time to hold down a full-time job, too!?!? Well, actually, the business is doing well and I have reduced my hours and my boss and colleagues have all been incredibly supportive of what I’m doing - with Brandon and the business.

In short, this year has been one of the most stressful of my life. I’m not ready to go into all the details (and I may never be) of how this year has impacted me - mentally, emotionally and physically - but suffice it to say I’m on a constant roller coaster. Great highs followed by low lows and all I want is to not burn out.

I can’t burn out.

Fortunately, I know this is temporary. I’m in the short-term pain part of long-term gain. I’m making a conscious choice to work hard. It’s not easy and I don’t complain (except to Lara occasionally - she’s allowed to complain to me too).

Don’t think for a minute that this is only about the business. There is short-term pain (okay, probably not all that short) in the process of getting Brandon assessed and treated as well. But it is SO worth it. HE is worth it. 

I’m glad I went over a month not writing. I’m pretty sure I haven’t blogged anywhere in the last month. Not on my business blog (Thanks, Lara! - see? Amazing partner!), not here and maybe once on Kids in the Capital.

I coasted through August and took it easy. I played games, spent more time with Brandon, read books, tried to do more around my house (though I wasn’t very successful) and generally took a much-needed break. Everything is going to ramp up in the next week and the fall is looking like it’s going to be ridiculously busy. 

Thank goodness I took a little breather. 

Bring it, fall. I’m ready.

The sweetest words I've heard in a year

This week has been rough. 

I was away for part of the weekend at Social Capital Conference and it has thrown Brandon right off. He missed me - a lot. I can’t help but feel bad about that. It dampens my personal excitement over the success of the conference. I know I can’t be with him 24/7/365, but it doesn’t stop the guilt I feel about not being there when he feels he needs me.

Monday, Matt had to take most of the day off to be with Brandon. His daycare tried to accommodate him, but when a single child out of 50 needs one-on-one attention for a significant portion of the day, it can compromise the safety of other children and stress resources too thin and that’s not fair - to the children or the caregivers. 

Tuesday, we met with the Developmental Pediatrician. For the second time Brandon didn’t want to cooperate with completing the assessments. He has it in his head that when he goes to her office he gets to play with Lego. Sigh. 

In the end, she was once again flexible. She gave him the Lego and then observed him. She spent a lot of time talking to us about our concerns and asking questions. It wasn’t productive in the way we’d hoped, but it wasn’t a waste of time. The most important part for us was when she looked me in the eye and said (I’m paraphrasing):

You know this isn’t about your parenting. You’re doing a good job with him. 

I told her that was good to hear because we’d had it implied that we’re not doing a good job as parents. And, of course, we all need as much fuel added to the fire of doubt that comes with parenthood. Yep, we sure do. She responded (paraphrased again):

I figured you had. This isn’t your parenting. It’s definitely something else and we have to figure out what that is.

Sweet relief. Music to my ears. Confidence booster. Tear-inducer.

You see, we do what we have to do to maintain peace. Sometimes that means we spend money on Brandon that we’d rather not spend. Occasionally that means giving him food that isn’t exactly the healthiest. The odd time it means that we don’t go places we really want to go because it’s easier than forcing him.

It never means that we compromise his long-term health, immediate safety or security. 

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as a parent it’s that everything I believed about parenting before I had a child was mostly a load of crap and I’m quite willing to go completely against those things to reduce the stress on all of us. We have enough unavoidable stress that we don’t need to add to it by trying to force a child to do things that he’s absolutely unwilling to do.

If that makes me a bad parent in some people’s eyes, that’s fine. If people think I’m spoiling my son, that’s fine. They’re entitled to their opinion, even if it’s wrong.

Today we had another rough morning. Brandon’s daycare was going on a field trip to the beach and all children are required to wear a tee shirt. He didn’t want to wear one. He only wanted to wear his life jacket, which he can’t safely wear in the car. So, he didn’t get to go on the field trip and that breaks my heart. I know he needs those times to help him learn. He needs those opportunities to develop socially. It won’t happen when he’s at home with Matt or myself. That’s three days in a row this week that he’s stayed home (or been sent home) from daycare.

I don’t know what to do. I’m nearly out of vacation and I have no more sick days and though Matt has more than I do, it’s not realistic that he carry the load alone. It’s especially unfair to him when Brandon really needs me and doesn’t respond positively to Matt’s presence. Sigh.

One day we’ll figure it all out. I hope. 

My child is just like every other kid - he's weird.

I love this quote. One of the PAB speakers used it and I’ve adopted it as my personal mantra.When I was a child, my father (who reads my blog, so I’m totally going to bait him a little) essentially brainwashed myself and my brothers to believe that the statement, “You are weird”, was a compliment. Dad, who I often refer to as a walking dictionary (because of his freakishly large vocabulary of freakishly large words) liked to teach us the meaning of words - sometimes in a thesaurus kind of way. Sometimes in a dictionary kind of way. (I knew the meaning of hyperbole when I was about eight, because dad liked to use hyperbole…a lot.) Weird was more a of thesaurus word from his alter ego, the walking thesaurus.

Being called weird is a compliment because it means you’re unique.

As I child, I think I often mentally rolled my eyes at Dad’s brainwashing. As a mouthy teen, I fought back with, “Yeah, I’m unique; just like everybody else.” (I think my intent was to irritate my dad, but somehow he thought - and still thinks - my response is hilarious.) But today I appreciate Dad’s perspective, which is confirmed quite nicely by Thesaurus.com if you look up weird and unique.

We are all weird!

As I’ve started talking about the process of getting Brandon assessed for developmental delays/disorders, something interesting has started happening. Friends and acquaintances that don’t know Brandon (or don’t know him well) listen to one or two of the reasons we’re having B assessed and jump in with, “Oh, my kid did that; that’s normal!” 

This rubs me the wrong way and I feel like I have to justify what we’re doing even though I know that this is the right thing to do for Brandon to ensure he gets the absolute best start possible. And yet, I think the intent behind this statement is basically good. People want to reassure me that my son isn’t “abnormal” or somehow flawed.

Normal is relative

My beliefs about this process as it relates to my son can be summed up in three points that I shared on Kids in the Capital recently:

Nothing is “wrong” with my son. He is exactly right just the way he is.

Assessments are just a jargony way of saying you have to be creatively vigilant and diligent to learn how to reach a child in the way that works for them.

I will do whatever it takes to help my son, because just as I get to share my stories in a way that works for me, I want him to find a way to share his.

My motivation behind getting him assessed is not to highlight all the things that are “wrong” with him. It’s to figure out how we can change what we’re doing so that our communication and behavior is right for him.

Put more simply, I want to know what I can change to help him. The assessments aren’t about changing him at all or making him more “normal”.

“Normal” is not interchangeable with “Norms”

Raise your hand if you have ever or know a parent who has ever compared their child with another child. Pretty much every person reading this in the western hemisphere should have their hand up (which kind of amuses me to imagine), because we ALL do it.

The problem with these comparisons is that not everyone knows what norms are. Often, what is within established norms is confused as “normal”. Having been raised by a walking dictionary, I often refer back to the dictionary for precise meanings:

Dictionary.com defines “norms” as follows (I skipped the lengthy math definition):

a standard, model, or pattern.

general level or average: Two cars per family is the norm in most suburban communities.

a designated standard of average performance of people of a given age, background, etc. (re: education)

a standard based on the past average performance of a given individual.

the greatest difference between two successive points of a given partition.

But what is “normal”?

Normal is complex and, in my opinion, completely relative to personal experiences. The dictionary definition of normal doesn’t address societal interpretations and connotations behind the word. Behavior that can appear normal for one person/child may seem completely out of left field for another.

Brandon is the only child I’ve had. We don’t get to be around other children very often. We had a sense that he was delayed in certain ways, but we erred on the side of “wait and see”. It wasn’t until his caregiver (who is around other children quite often) spoke up about her concerns about where he was at compared to children two years younger that we knew we needed to get him help.

I don’t need or want to be placated.

I have a plethora of specialists who are trained to spot areas that we can work to help Brandon. We know there are challenges to overcome. I’m trying hard keep a level head through this process rather than be an emotional basketcase.

Parents of children who are going through the assessment process already have enough doubts about our parenting abilities. It’s incredibly frustrating to do the instinctive things parents do and find they don’t work. Experimentation with methods that may seem to outsiders like coddling, spoiling, helicoptering and other negative terms can lead to judgment from others about our parenting abilities. That’s going to happen with strangers - there is absolutely nothing any of us can do to stop it.

But I hope that people who know me can recognize that, like any other mother (and father), we are doing our very best to do the right thing for our child. It isn’t unusual for even siblings to need different things from their parents.

It’s not inequality.

It’s parenting individuals.

Individuals who are weird.

So, I won’t tell you your kid is normal if you don’t tell me mine is, because who on earth wants to be normal? It’s much better to be weird.

Things are lookin' up for us in so many ways

Since I last wrote about our challenges with Brandon I have been overwhelmed with abundant support and kindness from everyone. To the point that I haven’t had time to answer all of the lengthy and truly appreciated emails of support and stories that have come in. (I’m working thru it in-between work, I promise I will write you back if I haven’t yet. I’ve just been busy night and day for weeks!)

But first let me tell you about the last couple of weeks because they’ve been amazing. We’ve gone from daily, stressful, I’m-not-sure-how-much-more-I-can-take tantrums to one single tantrum that diffused faster than ever in TWO WEEKS!

Three weeks ago (ish?), I filled out a 300 question (!!!) child development inventory that was intended to get a general idea from our perspective of where Brandon stands with development in a number of areas. The result? All areas came back significantly delayed except for one. It’s not at all a diagnostic tool, but I felt it was useful in guiding our specialists in where to start.

If I filled out that questionnaire today many of my answers would change. Many of them. Possibly even half.

I’ve seen progress since that inventory that has amazed me. Behavior, communication, they’ve both been astoundingly good (relative to before).

I have no clue what happened. Brandon’s daycare teachers are sad that he’s leaving because he’s been such a joy and that makes my mama heart so proud. I’m equally sad as we have grown very attached to the five or six lovely women who are responsible for his care while we are at work.

This daycare centre was but a temporary stop from the beginning. We knew it. They knew it. Next week he starts at the daycare attached to his school. And though we’ve gone in and met them and I feel good about the environment he’ll be in, I’m very scared of the transition.

I’m trying to temper my fears because children are far too perceptive for me to let those fears take deep root. I don’t want him to sense my fear of this change and make him insecure. I want him to flourish and thrive through it.

But the hard part is that he’s in a good place right now. He’s happy, having fun and excited about everything (for the most part). We’ve had so much fun with him the last couple of weeks and I just don’t want this change to disrupt that.

I thought we’d have to be very careful how we prepare him for next week. Tell him too early and we risk great disappointment and upset leading to a major tantrum when he doesn’t get what he wants now. Tell him too late and we risk great disappointment and upset leading to a major tantrum when he is forced to do what he doesn’t want to do now.

Much to our surprise, our current daycare centre took the initiative to begin preparing both Brandon and his fellow classmates for Brandon leaving after this week. They’ve been brilliant, celebrating the time he has left with them and getting him excited about where he’s going. When I walked in Monday evening to pick him up, half of the children gave Brandon hugs as he left. I was so touched by these children and their unconditional friendship to Brandon. I don’t know if he feels attached to any of these children, but they clearly like him. One even asked him to come to her birthday party as he was leaving, which was so sweet.

To say that this change had my nerves on edge is an understatement. Yes, I’m aware that what I describe is no different than any child. There is a difference, though, and I find it difficult to quantify other than that my little boy has so often upset himself to the point that he passes out (asleep). These “tantrums” are the direct result of being unable to reason with him about things that other children deal with differently.

We haven’t had to deal with that level of upset in two weeks. It’s done wonders for our stress levels during a time when we were a bit stressed about some other areas of life. Thank goodness he chose now to calm down, even if it’s only temporary. I still don’t know how to communicate effectively with him to prevent his upset. That’s a challenge that I know we’ll work on until we find the answer.

All this past weekend, I kept thinking about how thankful I am to have him, regardless of what’s going on. Today I got word that we’ll have an appointment with the Developmental Pediatrician in just two weeks. I feel optimistic, no longer alone, and I needed that.

I want to leave you with this video. This is excerpts of Jason Goldsmith, who founded The Big Blue Hug, speaking at PAB about his son, Ellis. I wrote about this a couple weeks ago, but the video wasn’t quite ready. I think when you see it, you’ll see why I was so profoundly affected by hearing Jason.

He spoke to me right where I’m at in life. And that is powerful.

The evolution of a father

From the day he was born, always willing to give up a finger to keep him happy even when you could barely keep your eyes open.

It wasn’t long before the finger wasn’t enough.

Eventually, he developed a taste for the finer things in life. Like “coffee”. (Tim Horton’s cappuccinos do not count as coffee.)

Of course, over the years, you developed a firm hand at discipline.

But there was never any doubt - from day one to now - how much you love this beautiful boy.

Why THIS mom didn't meet her breastfeeding goals.

I just read a post over on PhD in Parenting that has me kind of fuming. My thoughts are far too long to include as a comment, so I’m writing about it here instead.

I have resolved a lot of my feelings about this over the last four years, but I’ve had this come up a couple of times recently and Annie’s post was enlightening in a way that no other breastfeeding information ever has been. This list of reasons (that are identified as myths in Annie’s post) why women are encouraged to supplement with formula in hospital that reopened the frustrated wounds of my failed breastfeeding experience:

• Your baby is hungry
• You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you, so I just gave him a bit of formula.
• Your milk hasn’t come in yet. We’d better get him on a bottle.
• Your baby has low blood sugar.
• Your baby is crying a lot.
• Colustrum has no nutritional value.
• It will cure jaundice.
• Maybe if he has a bit of formula, he’ll know what it feels like to have a full tummy and that will make him interested in nursing.
• Your baby’s blood sugar is too low.
• Since English isn’t your mother tongue, you should really just formula feed.

The three that are bolded? Those are all things that I was told or led to believe. Let me back up and tell you a bit more of my story interspersed with information I have learned since giving birth.

I have polycystic ovarian syndrom (PCOS). I was diagnosed 10 years ago after miscarrying my first child. (Wow…I would have a nearly ten year old this year if that hadn’t gone the way it did.) My GP who was caring for me until I got to 30 weeks should have been closely monitoring me for signs of gestational diabetes, including ordering the GD testing early - at 24 weeks or earlier instead of the usual 28/29.

I entered the diabetes clinic, was monitored for blood sugar regularity and size of the baby. At 37 weeks, when an ultrasound estimated that Brandon was about 9 pounds, I left the ultrasound clinic in tears, knowing that my doctor was going to recommend c-section. She scared me into it and that’s all I’ll say about that. Yes, my son was 10.5lbs at birth, but women CAN give birth naturally to large babies - it’s not the end of the world. I did not want a section. I was (and still am) terrified of surgery. Should we decide to have another, I will go for VBAC - no doubt in my mind.

Prior to giving birth or even being pregnant, I did a significant amount of reading about PCOS, the symptoms and effects on my body/life and how to manage it. Not once did I ever read anything about low milk supply. I have no idea how that significant and frustrating fact escaped me. It wasn’t until my pre-op, 5 days before my surgery that the nurse (also a lactation consultant) raised the red flag to me. 

I went home in tears. I was having a c-section, which is known to complicate breastfeeding AND I had a broken body that may not work right. Talk about stress and frustration and bad timing!

Fast forward to nearly a week later. I’m blissfully unpregnant, staying as still as possible so as not to disturb my incision and my Friday night nurse makes a helpful suggestion. Brandon really isn’t getting enough to eat from me. He’s wanting food more often than every three hours (no mention of the possibility of breastfeeding on demand). She offers to help me with lact-aid. Brilliant! I can supplement and still get the benefits of breastfeeding. 

We did this Friday and all day Saturday until the night nurse arrived in my room just after Matt left for the day for the regular feeding. She immediately started to tell me that I needed to decide what I was going to do when I got home because we couldn’t do lact-aid at home. Oh, did I mention that this was about 11:00pm? Yeah, her timing was awesome. Not to mention that she didn’t once tell us WHY we couldn’t do it at home.

She delivered this news while she also informed me that I was doing everything wrong, despite the fact that my son had latched like a champ for two days with no problem. She proceeded to put her hands in front of his face so I couldn’t see what I was doing to get him latched on. This resulted in repeated failure to get him situated. She even shoved the lact-aid tube so far into his mouth that she choked him once. He had his first screaming fit that night thanks to the nurse from hell. And I had my first breakdown. 

After she left the room and Brandon was settled, I called Matt in tears. He returned to the hospital and found said nurse to have a little talk with her. Then he stayed with me until 2:00am when we were to do the next feeding so that he could handle the lact-aid without needing the nurse from hell to help. This didn’t stop her from barging in my room and delivering pamphlets on how to bottle feed and the process to sterilize bottles. I refused to say a word or even look her in the eye, I was so angry. Her audacity still amazes me. If I had a baby in that hospital today and she walked into my room as my nurse, I would tell her to go switch with someone else. I can’t believe someone like that is allowed to work in a birth unit.

The day after, shift change brought a kinder more level-headed nurse who gently explained that lact-aid had to be used with the supervision of a certified lactation consultant. Ah. Okay. She helpfully provided some formula samples and we packed up and left the hospital and made a trip to the drug store to rent a breast pump and purchase bottles and formula, which I hadn’t bought before because I hadn’t planned to use them.

Five days post-partum (and the day after we were released), I attended the hospital’s breastfeeding clinic where the LC recommended that I obtain some Blessed Thistle, Fenugreek and ask my GP for a prescription of Domperidone. I stopped at the health food store on the way home for my herbs and called my doctor right away. Her nurse practitioner called me back to say that she wouldn’t give me the prescription despite the fact that all eight OB/GYNs at the hospital I where I gave birth recommend it for helping with low milk supply. I never went back to that GP again. 

I was able to obtain a prescription from my OB for domperidone, but not until a full two weeks post-partum. The herbal supplements had already helped, and I saw a difference with domperidone, but no one ever told me to just let the baby nurse as much as possible or feed on demand. I was told to feed him for 15 minutes on each side, then pump for 15 minutes. The process was exhausting and it really didn’t help my milk supply improve.

Little chronological side note: At my six week checkup, my OB saw something made her question me - it’s a symptom of my PCOS and I told her I had it. My GP had not informed her when she referred me to the OB. That cemented my decision to never go to that GP again. Lesson learned, though: Do not assume your doctor is doing their job well - they could be missing key steps that have a big impact. My OB needed that information while I was pregnant, not after.

I took domperidone for eight weeks. I didn’t risk asking for more than that because my OB was annoyed that she had to be the one to prescribe it. We rented the breast pump for eight weeks. But because we were buying more formula all the time, and the domperidone had run out, I returned it. I’d continue giving Brandon breast milk as long as it lasted and let nature guide me.

At just shy of three months, Brandon turned away from me for the last time, refusing my milk because there just wasn’t any there. The drip, drip of that faucet was quickly silenced and as much as I tried to tell myself I did everything I could, I knew there was probably more I could have done.

I wasn’t wrong, as I’ve learned in the years since. I may never have been able to build the milk supply needed to breastfeed my son exclusively, but I think the system failed me in a number of ways. It’s been a learning experience that will inform my decisions in future should we have another child, but it frustrates me to no end that I could have and should have had a better chance.

Maybe by sharing my experience other moms can learn from the mistakes I made in ignorance. But most of all, follow your gut. First time moms should have a voice that is every bit as loud and confident as second, third, etc. moms. If something is bothering you or you disagree, speak up. If your doctor or other caregiver isn’t giving you rational reasons for their recommendations, find another opinion and don’t put it off. Do your research, because you have to be your own biggest advocate in all areas of health - for you and for your child(ren).

The most personal and hardest to write post I've ever published...

This is a hard subject for me to write about. I want to maintain my son’s dignity, but I also want to get support that we so badly need. It wasn’t until I started talking about this on Twitter and Facebook more openly that I stopped feeling so alone and started to focus on what I had to do. But let me back up a little and start from the beginning.

Last summer, Brandon’s daycare provider - a friend of mine - expressed concern over his communication skills. It was initially a concern because he wasn’t making any progress with toilet training. She gave us information about a program called First Words and we took him to get an intial assessment done in which they determine whether or not there is a need for him to have a more in-depth assessment. It was a 20-minute assessment with a lovely (and very pregnant - that’s thrown in there for context later) speech pathologist. We walked out with paperwork and a referral to First Words.

In December, Brandon’s caregiver once again expressed concern about his development. This time she noted fine and gross motor skills, indicating that he doesn’t seem as advanced as the two-year-olds in her care with certain tasks.

Boy, that was hard to hear. I cried. A lot. Then I called his doctor, hoping that I could get through the visit without breaking down. Matt and I both went for this one just before Christmas and I held onto my phone, reading from a list of notes that Matt and I prepared, distancing myself emotionally from the implications of my words. What I felt about all of this really didn’t matter - what mattered was getting Brandon the right help.

Brandon’s GP is a very nice man. He’s good with children and listened to our concerns. He did some visual assessments asking Brandon to perform a few tasks, but ultimately, he trusted our assessment. (Yes, some doctors do!) Our appointment lasted 10 minutes and we walked out with the promise of a referral to a developmental pediatrician.

Over the Christmas holidays, Matt and I were both off work and we worked very hard to get Brandon into a routine of potty training. We did a lot of laundry and did our best to keep smiling and reassuring Brandon even as we got frustrated. He had his first dry, accident-free day in the middle of March. He’s mostly dry and accident-free at daycare now, too.

It was in late March that Brandon started at a daycare center for the first time. I think it’s really helped him. He seems to have more confidence and is interested in a wider variety of activities. What thrills me most of all is his renewed enjoyment of books. It means I’m having to buy more books for him, but I’m not going to complain about THAT! This is what I have wanted for him all along.

In late April, I finally reached out to some private specialists to get moving on this process. Our initial foray into private care was derailed by the unexpectedly early birth of a baby (she was expecting) and it just took me a while to get back on the wagon. (That’s pregnant speech pathologist number two and we’re not done yet!)

The speech pathologist I contacted in April booked us in for late May and we needed two sessions to complete the assessment. This was because Brandon got frustrated by the changes in activities - transitions are not easy for him. This was despite using a visual schedule to help him. Unfortunately, he got very upset and I had to spend 45 minutes calming him and readying him to leave. The therapist was lovely about it and gently suggested that he may benefit from some behavior therapy as well.

The following week, the “shit hit the fan” or “all hell broke loose” or however you want to put it. Every single day turned into a fight to get Brandon out of the house, and it didn’t take long to realize the reason was that a change in theme was happening. Brandon was upset the entire week that the bear theme he’d gotten so attached to was over.

• Monday was a holiday.
• Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday Brandon had accidents at daycare.
• Friday I was called at 11:15am to pick him up and take him home.

That broke my heart.

When I got to the daycare, he was inconsolable to the staff but immediately climbed into my arms and calmed down. The staff was incredible, explaining what happened in such a way that didn’t blame or rebuke Brandon. They are well aware that he didn’t understand what he was doing. Their concern was his safety and the safety of the other children and diffusing a situation that had become too difficult for them to deal with on their own.

Within minutes, Brandon had fallen asleep in my arms. This is what he does. He gets so upset that he can’t calm himself and eventually he just passes out. Sometimes we can’t even figure out what triggers the upset, but often it’s something not happening the way he wants. Sure, this is life and all kids do that, especially the “spoiled” ones (as I’m sure some would like to say to me). And yet, this is not the kind of tantrum that a spoiled child has. It’s far more intense than that and we CAN tell him no without causing a tantrum every time.

It was on that day that Friday just a few weeks ago that I got fed up with the waiting.

• I called Brandon’s doctor. Though there was an initial hiccup that sent me swirling into despair, it took only a few minutes for them to call back with good news that the developmental pediatrician would see us by July 1st. I’m choosing not to freak out that it’s June 11th and I still don’t have a date/time for said appointment.
• I called First Words, desperate for news of the appointment that was supposed to happen by the end of May (just one week away). I got a call back the following Monday and our first appointment later the same week, (with our third very pregnant speech pathologist who told us she’d be going off in just a couple of weeks). Oy.
• I emailed the private speech pathologist to find out if she had any behavioral therapists she’d recommend. 

In general, I felt panic. Frustrated. Annoyed. Helpless.

All I wanted was to know how to help my son. This came through loud and clear Monday morning after a particularly ugly meltdown on the way to daycare that resulted in this little rant on Facebook:

I’m stressed and getting pretty frustrated and upset with Canada’s “fabulous” medical system. Thank god my son’s life isn’t in danger.

Unfortunately, when I have to wait ten months (with insufficient communication about when the wait will end) for help for my child whose problems are escalating and I have to turn to private care for help (which is still no guarantee of speedy treatment), I’m more convinced than ever that this system is broken and needs fixing.

I cannot imagine how difficult it must be for families who have more serious needs. We’re barely coping at times.

Let me be clear: I do not blame healthcare professionals. They are likely just as a frustrated by the system when I know very well from talking to and working with them that they want to help us. We’re lucky, too, in that we do have a decent amount of coverage for some private care as needed. My frustration is with a system that is lacking enough resources to be optimally effective for children and families in need of help. Our quality of life as a family is impacted, even though this isn’t life or death. I cannot imagine what it must be like for families who have more severe concerns to work through.

We had our assessment at First Words. Brandon was tired and once again became frustrated with transitions and not being able to continue with activities he enjoyed. The appointment was an hour and a half and it took an additional hour and a half to calm him and get him out to the car. Had Matt been there, he could have carried him out, but I don’t have the strength to do it by myself. Matt can’t be at every appointment. I can’t be at every appointment. We both work full-time and have obligations we have to fulfill. 

The result of our First Words assessment is that Brandon has a referral to OCTC now. This is very good news, because even though the wait will be long, OCTC can offer a variety of therapy options.

We have no family in Ottawa and doing this alone is exhausting. That Friday? The one they called for him to be picked up from daycare? That was the one night a month that Brandon’s daycare opens at night for parents to drop their kids off for a few hours. Needless to say, we didn’t go in May. The next one is June 22nd. I have a friend who is determined that we should get out and constantly offers to help. We plan to take her up on that offer at some point.

I’m personally affected in that I have had to take stress leave from work for a short time. My neck and shoulders are constantly in painful knots. Matt is showing signs of stress as well. 

I have essentially been silent about this for the past 10 months. We haven’t known what we were dealing with - a development delay or a developmental disorder. As time goes on, I am more convinced this will be a disorder we’re dealing with. And I’m truly fine with that. Whatever it is, I just want to know how to deal with it.

And now you get to come along for the ride. As much as I hesitated writing about this in any way online, I know it will help me and Matt navigate this foreign space we’re traveling. We don’t know what we’re doing. But when I lost it a couple of weeks ago and started ranting about this, I got tons of advice. More importantly, for me at that particular moment, I got support.

We can and we will get through this. We have a long way to go and I’m sure the frustration will return from time to time. I’m going to try to learn a new kind of patience. The breathing deeply through seething teeth kind. :)

Thanks for sticking with me. I know it was a long one.

On the other side of 3 is 4

It was 8:28am four years ago today that I saw my little boy for the first time. I didn’t get to hold him right away, but it wasn’t long before they sewed me up and brought him to me in the recovery room. It was such a surreal and amazing moment to hold him for the first time. This beautiful child I’d dreamed about for so long.

We’ve come a long way over the last four years. Even in the last six months, the changes in Brandon are overwhelming when I think about how he’s evolved. It’s a good kind of overwhelming. He makes me proud to be his mother.

You see, last August, we started the process of getting him assessed through First Words. I’ve been hesitant to mention it. We didn’t (and still don’t) know the extent of help Brandon needs. But he has grown by leaps and bounds over the past few months and I don’t have the same fears that kept me from being open about this period of our lives initially.

The changes I’ve seen in him make the celebration of Brandon’s birthday this year more poignant than the previous three years. 

He’s gone from wanting us to do everything for him to insisting on “helping” or doing things for himself. There are times it’s a fight to get him to let us do things that we know he can’t or shouldn’t do. (I draw the line at letting him cut his own bagels with the bread knife.)

This time last year, I was beating myself up for not having him potty trained. I didn’t know what to do to get him interested.But his interest grew in his own time. Today I can tell you that - except for naps at home on the weekend (because they’re longer than at daycare) - he’s in underwear full time and has been accident free for almost two weeks. This major achievement seems to have given him a newfound confidence in his abilities in many other areas as well. 

His vocabulary grows daily. There is no doubt in my mind that my child is very intelligent. Communication is the challenge. We’ll learn to do what is needed to help him. That’s a fact and a promise to him.

Some things haven’t changed.

Brandon continues to be an exceedingly stubborn child. As frustrating as this trait can be at times, I know that he will benefit from it later in life. Ideally, I’ll be able to train him to be selectively stubborn so that he doesn’t drive the people in his life crazy as an adult. Have I mentioned that he takes after his father in his stubbornness? With a dose of his mother tossed in. It’s a totally unfair genetic consequence we didn’t anticipate at all!

He is a truly affectionate child, freely bestowing hugs and kisses on us and always up for a cuddle.

His desire to have fun and be funny gives us constant amusement. He ASKS to be tickled! He likes to laugh that much.

The perfect pair for Brandon’s cake. :)He is a geek-in-training, with a keen interest in the iDevices that run rampant in our home. He’s also become a huge fan of Super Mario Galaxy 2, though I can’t convince him that the levels with Bowser are not actually fun. He thinks they are because HE’S not the one who has to try to win them. ;) One day, he’ll learn. For now, I’ve ordered him a cake that has Mario and Yoshi on it. I can’t wait to show it to him!

The past year has been so full that I decided he needs to be celebrated in a special way. So, he’s going to have his first-ever birthday party with friends this weekend. He’s very excited and when he sees the trampoline we’re going to set up this week, he’s going to be over the moon. (And that isn’t even a birthday present!)

We have another big year ahead of us with school starting in September and I’m looking forward to watching him grow, learn and discover all the new and interesting things he’ll get to explore. 

Happy Birthday to my sweet little man! May you always be enthusiastic in the things you love to do.

Burps, farts and belly laughs

I don’t know why, but the child absolutely loves being stuffed in buckets and buried in toys.When I was a teenager and started babysitting, I realized very quickly that boys were fun in a totally different, slightly more amusing way than girls. The girls in my babysitting days were fairly quiet and reserved. They didn’t do outlandish things that made me want to laugh at the same time I feared they would break their necks. (That wouldn’t look too good - me laughing as I tell parents their son is broken.) Those boys that were so much fun to babysit made me hope a little boy would be in my future as a mother. Nearly four years later, I’m having so much fun with my funny little guy.

One of the things that I adore about Brandon is his love of laughter. He likes to laugh, but he also gets such a kick out of making others laugh that it’s hard not to give him what he so desperately wants. The thing about being in a house filled with a bunch of boys (even the cat is a boy) is that they also think burps and farts are funny. Despite how quickly the latter will clear a room, I never fail to react in a way that makes my husband laugh at my nose’s thoroughly offended sense of smell.

Burping, on the other hand, is something that - when well-timed - I am ashamed to admit I think is quite funny. For example, if you watch the video below, you’ll see a scene from Wallace and Gromit that starts at about 1:20 that Brandon is currently watching over and over and over again. 

Seriously, that’s funny! Though it is funnier if you’re watching the whole movie, especially if Brandon’s sitting beside you. When he gets tickled by it, you can’t help but join in and laugh too.

One of these days I’ll have to teach him how to have proper manners. Thankfully he hasn’t figured out how to induce burping or farting on cue so it’s not a concern…yet. Until then, I’m just going to laugh.