If I Had a Blog This is what I'd say...

I know, I know, people are sick and tired of hearing about H1N1, but that's my topic for today. There's the silver lining of the pandemic -- it's giving me content for day two of NaBloPoMo. But I'm not going to rant and rage about all that's been going on. Partly because I really don't have that much to rant and rage about, and partly because I don't feel like opening the door to any comments about what's been going on. Because I'm sick and tired of hearing about it too.

Nope, today's post is just about getting the kids vaccinated. (That decision in itself could open the door to some comments...but oh well.) After a bit of trouble finding out where the mass clinics were this week (and here I must commend whoever (whomever?) is responsible for the VanIslandHealth twitter account, as not only did they apologize for something I complained about, they fixed it very quickly), we headed up to UVic for their 9:00 clinic. We got there at about 8:45 and the line had about 200 people in it. Not too bad. At 9:00 it started moving, and seemed to be moving at a fairly steady pace. By 10:15 we were close to the door to the gym. It was sunny, there were lots of kids happily playing (this is the week for kids under five to get vaccinated), and there were bunnies to watch. And lots of camaraderie among the parents. As we got closer to the door, I was thinking that this had been a breeze.

Then we got in the gym. And it was PACKED. The line continued, back and forth, all the way through the gym. There must have been at least another 200 people inside. We spent 90 minutes outside in the sun and over two hours in a stuffy gym. As one guy commented, it was a sure way to pick up some sort of bug. There was little room for the kids to play, things moved very slowly, and Greg and I both started to wonder about the sanity of our plan. But we'd come this far.

The kids did remarkably well. There was food involved (provided by us, not VIHA!), including a chocolate croissant for Elliot. Let's give him chocolate while he's penned up with a bunch of other people. At one point a grandmother started reading a book to her two granddaughters and within minutes she had about 10 kids surrounding her, Elliot included. In general I was really impressed with how well all the kids did (and their parents).

At about 12:30 we were finally shepherded in to the room where the shots were actually taking place. We didn't have to wait long there. Elliot went first while I walked around with Amy. He was a superstar. He cried only as the needle was pulled out, but quickly calmed down when we reminded him of the cookie that was waiting for him. More chocolate. Amy didn't even flinch. We waited the recommended 15 minutes before leaving, and finally left at about 1:00. We were both planning to go back to work, but it wasn't worth it for me. Not to mention I couldn't have dropped the kids off as it was in the middle of nap time at daycare.

So we dropped Greg off at work and headed home. I was exhausted, so I lazed on the couch while Amy slept and Elliot watched TV.

The icing on the cake was at about 3:00 this afternoon when I got a call from my family doctor...asking if I wanted to bring the kids in for their H1N1 shots. ARGH! I had assumed that she wouldn't have enough for them, so I hadn't even bothered calling.

And watch...it'll just be our luck that the kids will be exposed before the vaccination has time to take effect. But I'll cross my fingers.

Oh, and our kids ROCK. Over four hours of waiting around doing pretty much nothing, only to have it end with a jab in the arm. They were awesome.

It's a little daunting to start a month of posting every day when I don't feel very inspired on day one. I tried to think of a theme for the month, but nothing compelling has come to mind.

I could talk about what a great parent I am, as my three-year-old sits on his butt on this gorgeous day watching TV and crunching on a hard ball of sugar, otherwise known as a lollipop. We did go for a walk this morning, so it's not all bad.

I could ponder why my daughter isn't sleeping, when it's an hour past her regular nap time.

But since this post is obviously going to be a bit lame, I'll take up that thread and talk about how lame Hallowe'en was on our street. We didn't take our kids out as Elliot has no interest in dressing up and Amy is too young to have a clue as to what is going on. So we had a nice Halloween dinner of squash soup and cornmeal muffins and waited for the trick-or-treaters. We had four great pumpkins outside, and some glo-sticks stuck in the ground. I was prepared for a fairly large amount of kids, as our street seems pretty good for getting candy. It's quiet, and the houses are close together. I asked our neighbours how many kids they got last year, and they said 20 to 30. Okay, so not as many as I thought there'd be, but we were still prepared. (Meaning we had two boxes of Costco-sized candy.)

When I went out to light the pumpkins, I took a look up and down the street and realized I didn't see any other pumpkins glowing. Hmmm...strange. By 6:30 we hadn't had anyone come yet, but I attributed that to the time change and the fact that it wasn't quite dark yet.

Fast forward two hours...and about a dozen candy collectors later. A dozen. TWELVE. Maybe fifteen. A friend of mine in Fernwood had TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE. This just doesn't seem fair. I mean, it didn't matter too much to me last night, but three years from now when Elliot finally realizes the connection between dressing up and getting sugar, we're going to be taking the kids out here, and it's going to be pretty depressing if all the houses we find are dark.

We appear to live on the Scrooge street of Halloween. And we have a LOT of candy to get rid of.

I'm doing NaBloPoMo again. Stay tuned. Theoretically it should be easier this year as I'm not in the middle of a move and both my kids are sleeping through the night.

Anyone else up for the challenge?

Elliot and I are nearing the end of our nine-day trip to Ontario. We spent the first day in Ottawa with my sister, my nephew and my mother. Both my parents live on the west coast with me, and I think out of the five or six times I've been to Ottawa, half of those times one of my parents has been here as well. Nothing like traveling across the country to see your parents who live in the same province as you.

On Monday Elliot and I drove to Petawawa to see Jen and her kids. The drive was nicer than I expected, especially the last half. Lots of fall colour and rolling hills. We stayed with Jen for three nights, and got to see a bit of Petawawa and the area. On Wednesday we went on a really pretty drive to Black Water, and visited the Sierra Designs warehouse store. I was hoping to find a nice fleece for me, but only came away with a running shirt. Laird slept in the car while we were there, and Elliot was a superstar "watching" Carys while Jen and I shopped. It worked out really well.

Elliot and I came back to Ottawa on Thursday afternoon with Jen and her kids, and Friday we visited the Children's Museum in the Museum of Civilization in Gatineau. It took Elliot a while to warm up to it, but we ended up staying a few hours. Unfortunately things didn't work out as well for Jen -- not the easiest place to go with two kids and one parent. So she ended up heading home after lunch.

Today started off horribly with a knock at the door. My sister lives on a busy street, and one of her cats was hit and killed by a car. The car that hit him didn't stop, but two other men who saw it happen did. One of them was going door to door trying to find out who owned the cat, and the other stood by Posho so he didn't get run over again. I ended up going to get him as Jan was consoling my nephew and trying to find her other cat, who was also outside (he was found). One of the men helped me get Posho into a box, and we buried him this afternoon in the yard. Elliot watched, and as my brother-in-law covered Posho up, Elliot said he'd be safe and sound. Sweet words. I will miss Posho -- he was a great cat. And I feel bad for Momo, Jan's other cat, as the two were brothers and definitely buddies.

We were able to enjoy most of the day, despite the loss. The boys kept us distracted. I had a hard time not crying at first, but every time I cried Elliot would start acting very silly, to try to cheer me up. I was able to have a bit of a cry here and there, but I didn't want to upset Elliot too much.

Tomorrow Jan and I are going in a 5 km run, and the boys are going in a 1 km "Turkey Trot". They have t-shirts and numbers, and Hugh at least is very excited. Elliot has told me a couple of times he's not going to race, but we'll see how tomorrow goes. Peer pressure might motivate him. The medal at the end may as well.

Then Monday we fly home, very early. I'm definitely looking forward to seeing Amy and Greg -- it feels like it's been a long time. But it's also been a good trip. Elliot and Hugh have been having a great time together, and I love seeing the cousin bond grow.

I'm very anti- Jon and Kate Plus 8 (oops, I guess I should say Kate Plus 8). I don't like the fact that they are making money off of exploiting their children. Yet it occurred to me that I read dooce.com religiously. Sure, it's a different medium and she's got a lot of other content besides kid stuff, but is the end result any different?

Not that I'm going to stop following her...it's just a thought.

It's somewhat frightening to me how much knowledge we pass on to our children, especially when they are young. When Elliot asks me a question or looks to me for confirmation on something, my response is gold. He takes my answer and files it away in that sponge-brain of his and he doesn't (yet) question the accuracy of my response. He trusts the adults in his world to give him correct information.

Some of his queries are straightforward and I feel confident in my answers -- a question like "How does the turn signal turn off?" is pretty easy to answer.

But then there are others that I have to think about before I can answer. "How did Amy get out of your tummy?" and "Why are some people good and some people bad?" aren't exactly easy to answer. And the doozy from today: "Why do we say grace at lunch?" (his daycare has a religious component to it).

Thankfully he doesn't require long explanations. And thankfully he hasn't yet asked me how Amy got IN to my tummy.

And for the record, my response to why he says grace at lunch was he's thanking God for his food. And I left it at that. For now.

As with everything, parenting has it's ups and downs. Sure, we've been struggling a bit lately with Elliot, but we've had a better week this past week, and it's reminded me of all the delightful things he does. Like making Amy laugh, telling me things he learned at day care, singing songs, teaching Amy new things, going to the bathroom by himself (yes, this IS delightful), giving "blow hugs"...the list goes on and on.

And I love him to bits, delightful and not.

Throw sand at his mother? Check.

Throw sand at his father? Check.

Throw sand at his sister? Check.

Hit his mother? Check.

Hit his father? Check.

Kick his sister? Check.

Throw toys at his door? Check.

Throw his shoes? Check, check.

And so was Elliot's day today...and this is after spending four entire days with just me, visiting family. No sharing me with Amy or any other kids, no sharing me with Greg, no sharing me with housework, and no daycare for four days. Maybe it was the shock of coming home.

If I had to bet money on whether or not he will outgrow this stage, I'd bet on him outgrowing out, but that's just the rational part of me. The irrational part of me has a very real fear that this is never going to end.

I hate what this is doing to me. I over-analyze things, I get nervous every time I pick him up from daycare or come home after he's been with Greg, anxious to hear the "report". I have to bite my tongue after one of his meltdowns (for lack of a better word) to keep from harping too much on how he's feeling, and what different things we can do with our anger, and does he understand why we don't hit and blah, blah, blah. I alternate between wanting to shake him and wanting to hug him. I wonder where the hell these rages come from and I marvel at how quickly he can both escalate things and return to normal as if nothing happened. If only I could move on as easily. With each meltdown, my stress level seems to snowball.

And what frustrates me more than the behaviour is how the hell to respond to it. From what most people have said, we're doing the right things. I want to see results, but in some ways I think it's getting worse. My latest theory is I think we should just walk away as soon as he hits us. Totally disengage. The problem with that is you can't always do it. If something happens to piss him off while we're in the kitchen and he hits me, if I walk away he'll start throwing things. And unlike his bedroom, the kitchen is full of breakable things. Ok, so get him to his room and then disengage. But getting him to his room when he's in the middle of it is awful, because if we pick him up, he's a kicking, screaming, mass. We literally have to pin down his arms and carry him sideways. NOT FUN. And if we go the other route and try to hug him to help him calm down, he just lashes out again.

So that's where we're at right now. This has been by far the hardest few months of parenting for me, and I can't see an end to it. Despite what everyone tells me.

Elliot and I are going to visit some family on the Sunshine Coast for the Labour Day weekend. We'll be gone for four days, and during that time, if all goes well (and we're taking ferries on a long weekend, so you can bet that all will NOT go well...), we'll be spending about seven hours driving, four hours on four different ferries, and about three hours waiting at ferry terminals.

Don't ask me why I calculate these things. Seriously, don't ask me. I don't know.

I dragged my butt out of bed at 6:04 to go for a run. Seven minutes into the run I fell. Hard. Knee bleeding, elbow, palm and ego bruised. I considered going home but needed to give Yoshi some exercise, so I thought I'd walk for a bit. I was eventually able to continue my run.

Then Elliot had an emotional breakdown after we asked him not to throw things at the breakfast table. He ended up flopping on the floor, asking to be picked up, but I requested he stand before I pick him up. He just continued to flop about on the floor like his legs wouldn't work. I almost lost my patience but managed to hold it in check. Fifteen minutes later he finally stood up and I picked him up.

Elliot's drop off was a bit difficult, especially when he realized I'd forgotten his water bottle at home. We got through it without tears, though.

While driving Greg to work I realized I'd forgotten my wallet at home. Thankfully I remembered before I dropped Greg off, because otherwise I'd have been stranded in the parking lot with no way to pay.

Then I got to the office and realized I'd forgotten my laptop in the car. Had to go back and get it.

It all could have been worse, but still...the day is kind of sucking so far.