Wild in the City

Yucky!

When I got home from work yesterday, my son was lying on the floor, his head on the couch cushion, and all he could say to me was “Maman, I am really really sick”!

Zak had warned me: he threw up several times throughout the day and wouldn’t keep even water down, so I stopped to buy chicken broth and pedialyte, the latter in liquid and popsicle form, just in case.  He was on the floor because he had puked on the couch, which Zak had to wash (just like his jacket, his shoes and all the other clothes he and Zak had worn that day). He was miserable.

In an effort to rehydrate him, we offered him both forms of pedialyte, broth and diluted orange juice that Zak had prepared. He declared they were all yucky, but he had a few sips of each, especially when we bribed him with a special permission to play on our iPod touch if he drank a little. He kept it down, but all he wanted was water. And then food once he felt a bit better. We just kept trying to make him drink, then we put him to bed. He woke up at 4 in the morning,he was trying to take off his diaper to use the potty. I shipped him back to bed as soon as possible (after putting a new diaper on him and forcing a bit more liquid down his throat). Then he woke up at 5. Then at 5:20

I guess he was probably hungry. Plus he had a nap yesterday and didn’t move much, so I guess he wasn’t tired anymore. But now I am…

This morning he seems fine, he ate some toast and drank some water. So we’re keeping our fingers crossed. Especially so we can sleep better tonight!

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Olympic Games…

I am slowly becoming a fan of the Olympic Games. Slowly, because like many who live in Vancouver I got a bit sick of all the money being thrown at this event. But now that it has begun, we decided to enjoy it while it lasted. Thursday night we went to see the Olympic flame go past our house. Our son was really happy - not sure he cared about the flame, but there were lots of people, he stayed up later than usual, and there were police motorbikes and mounties on horses! The horses, especially, caught his attention.

Then Friday night we watched the opening ceremony, and we quite enjoyed it until CTV caught the Internet feed at 9 pm. The show was supposed to end at 9. It was late, and we missed the lighting of the olympic cauldron. Needless to say I haven’t forgiven CTV yet. They finally went back live and we were able to rewind and watched what we missed, but it’s not the same. Our son watched the first part of the show and asked us if we could go see it live like the flame. We had to explain that we didn’t have a thousand bucks (each) to spend on the show.

Then last night, we went to Place de la francophonie, on Granville Island, where about all the singers I know from Quebec are going to be playing during the Games. Last night was Mes aïeux, and we went with our boy. He really liked it, and the evening went very well, so much so that we may go back for more shows. I really enjoyed it - the mass of French-speaking people, the music… We brought some neighbors who don’t speak enough French to follow the words, but loved the music anyway. Even the rain didn’t dampen my spirits. I was slightly discouraged by the fact that they sold a poutine for $8, but it’s ok, we didn’t eat there. And our supper did cost $25, but the show was free, so it’s still a pretty cheap evening.

So I’m a pretty satisfied customer so far. We’ll see how things go on in the future…

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The end of the boob…

So it seems that I have weaned my son. At 2 and a half, many will say that it was more than time. And to tell you the truth, I’m not even really sad about it. It happened quite naturally: I have been sent to work at VANOC for the duration of the Olympics, which forces me to leave at a specific time in the morning (no more “you come in when you want” work situation). Our boy stopped napping in the afternoon, so he needs to sleep longer at night. With all that combined, I have barely seen him in the morning all of last week, and yesterday I even had to leave while he was still sleeping.

And so with the change of the routine, I stopped breastfeeding him. It just happened. He didn’t even ask me - I guess he didn’t think about it, as we were running to have breakfast as soon as he woke up. And now a week later I fear the day when he will think about it again, because I will have to say no. It is too good an occasion to wean him not to take it. I mean, I can’t go on breastfeeding him forever. So it may as well be now when it happens naturally. He’s had a good run at it: most kids are weaned way before their second birthday, which was the goal I had in mind given the recommendation by the WHO. And our boy was so attached to his morning snack that I was really wondering how I would ever manage to wean him.

Well, it seems to be over now.  I’m glad, I really am. I just need to convince myself that I am. Because it also means the end of something that had been going on for 30 months. The end of a special relationship, something that nobody but me could give him, something he obviously enjoyed that came from me and me alone. And of course, it also means that my son is growing up - which is also evidenced by his renewed interest in potty training.

So I guess I am a little bit sad. But just a little. That is why we have kids, after all, isn’t it? To see them grow and become increasingly independent until they leave.  And besides, my boy will still hold my hand, even in public, and likes a cuddle once in a while. So I’ll concentrate on what I can still enjoy and say goodbye to breastfeeding. For now…

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Underwear, really?

Our son’s love of underwear didn’t last. At the end of the day, he was already asking for his diaper back. I suspect he’s just lazy and found that sitting on the potty every 30 minutes was just too much work - and too much of a distraction from his play. So he started peeing in his training pants. The pants are made to hold one small pee, so it wasn’t different enough from his diaper to make our boy overly uncomfortable.

We figured that we didn’t have enough training pants to change him with every pee, so we went back to diapers. We’ll get him some real underwear soon, and then when the pee runs down his legs maybe he’ll get it. That remains to be seen. But on the bright side, so far, he has continued pooing in the potty. As much as I love cloth diapers, I have to say that I don’t miss cleaning poopy ones. Just this little change makes a huge difference.

So for now I’ll accept the partial potty training and count myself lucky. After all, he’s not quite two and a half, yet. I know that a lot of kids potty train earlier, but then a lot of them (especially boys) potty train much later, too. So I’m taking it in strides. I have so little time for my family these day’s, it’s just not worth the fight!

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Underwear!

Yesterday, our boy suddenly asked to wear underwear. Well, it wasn’t that sudden; Sunday we went for a hike with friends who have a boy the same age as ours, and they were talking about how he wears underwear when at home and diapers when out. Our son must have heard it. Anyway, we had one training pant, so Zak put it on him with great expectations of future messes to clean. Well lo and behold, he stayed dried pretty much all afternoon and evening.

He already used the potty regularly when we asked him to, which we would do when we changed him or before naps or bedtime. But he had never gone without a diaper and he had never asked to use the potty himself. So yesterday we put him on the potty every 30 to 45 minutes with great success. Then after supper, suddenly, he said he needed to use the potty. I found that he had started to pee in his pant, but caught himself in time and finished in the potty. We were really proud of our son!

Of course, after that, we were stuck since we have only one training pant. So we promised him that he could go out with Zak today to buy some more. He was delighted, especially since the store that sells training pants also has toys he can play with! When he went to bed, he was still talking about how he would go buy underwear today.  Trying to convince him not to get up again after going to bed, I mentioned that the faster he fell asleep, the faster tomorrow would come. I never thought it would work, but for the first time in months, our boy stayed in bed and slept through the night.

When he woke up at 6:30 and I said “Hello, it’s morning”, the first thing out of his mouth was: “Now we can go buy underwear!”

Who would have thought that underwear could be so much fun? Well, ok, lots of people, but usually to be fun they need to be black lace or something! But our boy is proud of himself and proud to be a big boy now. And so are we!

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Canadian man killed in bus crash in Argentina

I’m a little late in the news, but I found about this late and then I forgot to write about it…

Do you remember that bus crash? It was back in March. I heard about it on the radio, but they didn’t mention the name of the victim and besides, that kind of stuff happens all the time. Two Canadians killed in the sinking of a ferry here, one Canadian killed in a plane crash there. I always think, who cares that there were Canadians?  Am I supposed to feel more strongly about this even because a Canadian was killed in it? There are more than 30 millions of us. I’m not any closer to this victime than I would be to a Hungarian or a Mexican man killed in a crash.

But this case was different. As my father told me later, the man killed in that specific crash was my great-uncle, my grandmother’s brother. I never knew him well and I hadn’t seen him in years, but all of a sudden it changed my outlook on this strategy. My great-uncle, a retired judge, was very active in humanitarian causes. He was travelling with his wife of God know how many years, and they exchanged seats shortly before the crash. I don’t remember why, maybe he or she wanted to look out the window. Minutes later, he was dead and she was struck with a major case of survivor’s guilt. Not to mention the grief.

We never say it enough: enjoy every minute of your life, and make sure you tell your loved ones that you love them. A lot. All the time. You never know which day will be your last. You never know if you’re going to have lots of time to enjoy retirement or not.

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So sad!

Our son loves Duplos, those bigger Legos made for toddlers. We have quite the collection already, but Zak loves them too, and with the winter months he has been spending a little bit more time inside trying to entertain our 2-year-old, so he wanted more. Of course, our son is always happy with more toys, too. So Zak went on eBay and found some nice sets for sale for a decent price. We got one delivered yesterday, but we wanted to keep some for Christmas, so we didn’t give them to our boy right away.

After he had gone to bed, we took the box out and started digging in it to see what was there, sorting out what was going to be kept hidden. Then suddenly, we started hearing some bawling coming from our son’s room. I ran upstairs to find our little boy sitting in his bed, his pillow and his pajamas completely wet with tears. He looked at me and said, mortified:

- Papa is playing Legos without me!

Boy, did I ever feel cheap! So I said that Papa was not playing (which was true), that he was simply putting the toys away (which was false). And I cuddled him until he calmed down, put him back to bed with a hug and a kiss and went back downstairs. Needless to say, we waited for a while more before we put away the new Duplos.

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