7
May

Holding my breath

I have spent much of the last week feeling like I am holding my breath, all in knots.  It’s the week that I have been dreading since the dates fell into place, the week that both Woo and Willy had surgery.  I am a worrier by nature, so to surgeries meant it hit me doubly hard this time.  By Thursday, the day before Woo’s surgery, I was a grumpy and overtired mess. 

Woo was getting a tooth pulled.  One of his molars was fused to the jawbone and had not erupted.  This was starting to cause him some discomfort, and could lead to big issues with jaw development moving forward, so it needed to come out.  I know it’s a pretty routine surgery, but I was still anxious.  It was such a nice and comforting surprise to see one of my good friends in the waiting room when we arrived at the surgery centre on Friday. Her daughter was having surgery right before Woo, and even though she was feeling many of the same things that I was feeling, her presence both calmed me and distracted me. Still, one of the hardest things that I have had to do was hold Woo as they put him under, then be directed to walk away, leaving him so small and vulnerable on the operating table.  I might have shed a tear or two.

Thankfully the surgery was fast and uneventful.  By the time that Willy arrived from walking Goose to school, they were calling me back to sit and cuddle him in recovery.  We were able to take him home shortly after, and he spent the day lounging on the couch, spoiled rotten.  He amazed me in his ability to bounce back.  He never once complained of pain, and dove right into his normal routine, heading to the park to play soccer on Saturday morning.

We were allowed a brief sigh of relief before we started to prep for Willy’s surgery today.  He had a stapedectomy, an operation that will hopefully restore the hearing in his right ear.  He had this operation performed on his left ear in early 2009, and although he is very sensitive to loud noises now, he can thankfully hear in that ear again.  We have been looking forward to this operation, as his hearing loss has been frustrating for both of us.  There are risks associated with the procedure, so I worry still.

Today was a long day for me.  I had barely slept, was awakened in the middle of the night, and then I had to get the lils to school and Willy to the hospital.  The majority of my day was spent worrying about Willy, so I was very relieved to be called about an hour earlier than expected to come and pick him up. He is now upstairs, sleeping peacefully, as he will be for the next few days.  I still have to make it through the next week, trying to ensure that he gets the rest that he needs and that the lils don’t hurt him or drive us all crazy as they try to be calm and quiet.

Right now they all sleep peacefully, so I close my eyes and slowly exhale.

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30
April

Consequences

The last couple of weeks have been a bit of an eye opener for me as the mom of two lils in kindergarten. For the majority of the school year, I thought that I was doing pretty well. The lils made it to school most days before the bell, they are often overly prepared for the weather, and I hadn’t yet forgotten to include their lunches OR water bottles. Sure, I likely drive them more often then I should, and I have forgotten to call the school once or twice when one of them is sick, but all in all it’s not been too bad.

There has been a subtle shift of late, and I think that things are starting to slide. It started when I forgot to buy splash pants for Goose, and then didn’t find any for weeks. It started getting warm, and overly prepared for the weather morphed into sending the poor girl in her snowsuit up until mid-April, when the temperature was well above freezing and she was over-heating. Then the lils started competing to see who could reach me for hugs at the end of the day. The “winner” got their hug first, and the loser, well, lost it. The tears, the yelling, the crying, have become a daily occurrence. Their teachers look at me, confused as I am as to what is happening. Then I sent Goose to school in a dress that clearly needed something worn underneath it. It was a knit dress, and their were holes in the pattern. I thought that she was fine with nothing underneath, but I was so wrong, and those holes looked so large as she ran around the playground at pick-up.

I have been able to volunteer a few days a month in the lils’ classroom. It is great to see the them interacting with their peers, to get to know their classmates, and to help the teachers out a little bit. I like it, I know that the teachers appreciate it, and all of the lils seem to have fun when a parent comes in. Sadly, the last few visits I have made have ended with one or both of my lils behaving really badly. They don’t listen, disrupt the lessons, and try to get their classmates to follow them in their mischievous ways. The teachers know it is for my benefit, the lils have been warned that they can’t keep it up or there will be consequences, yet it continues. When Willy picked the lils up from school one night recently, he was told that I should not come in the next day, as it becomes too disruptive for all. The consequences they were warned of.

I’ll be allowed to come back in next month, but until then, I’ve been suspended from kindergarten.

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26
April

Complaints

Woo talking. Goose, “Hey! I was about to talk and Woo started talking first. That’s interrupting!

Me, “There was no kale in today’s veggie basket.”
Woo, “What???? Why not!?  Can you go get some now?!” (addict much?)

Goose accidentally pulls the curtain rod down in her room, at bedtime. She still has a blind, so I figure she will be fine. When I leave the room and turn the lights out she says, “Hey! Why is it so bright in here? I can’t sleep when it is this bright out!

Tucking Woo in to bed one night, “Your breath smells like wine.” (that might have been a valid compliant)

One night this week the lils were presented with a nice steak, usually a family favourite in our mostly vegetarian house.  Goose took one look and cried, “But we haven’t had KD in a million days!

Each night I call the lils to supper, reminding them to use soap.  Tonight Goose refused, angrily complaining, “I don’t need to use SOAP to wash my hands.

When his milk was about to be poured into the same plain, low profile, bottom heavy, hard to spill glass that he uses every night, Woo cried out, “WAIT! I can’t drink my milk unless it’s in a fancy glass…

Walking to school last week, Goose asked what the date was.  I told her, and she exclaimed, “AWW, I don’t have any APRIL underwear!”  The people who were jogging by at this exact moment found this to be particularly amusing.

 

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17
April

Still in the bubble

As the afternoon went on yesterday, I went about my routine as I always do.  I wanted the lils to see normal, even though I was not feeling it on the inside.  They didn’t need to know that I was upset, so I fed them their snack and talked about their day as I prepped the veggies for our stir fry.  I listened to the radio, because we always do, but I discretely turned it off to “hear them” every time the news came on.  They didn’t need to know what was going on.

There are terrible things that happen in the world every day, and I gloss over them too.  It was just a little harder yesterday. The bombs that were set off at the finish line for the Boston Marathon were a terrible thing; impossible to avoid, to hide because of the event, the location that was attacked.   The lils aren’t ready, I rationalized.

It was the cancellation of last night’s hockey game that forced me to tell them a bit about what happened.  They knew that there was to be a game, were hoping to be allowed to watch a few minutes of the first, or be called out of bed to see a goal for the Sens if they scored.  They would realize that something was up when there was no game, and would want to know more.  As I told them that there were some explosions in Boston, and that the game was cancelled to ensure that everyone was safe, I kept thinking that this was a silly reason to be telling them about this, that they would want to know more. In the end, they were disappointed about the game, but had no real questions about anything else.  Thankfully they had one more day where they were still in that safe little bubble where all is good in the world, and their biggest worry is that they have to wait a day to do something they enjoy.  It’s days like yesterday that I want to crawl inside that bubble with them.

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26
March

Karma

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my selfish behaviour surrounding my husband’s upcoming surgery.  What I neglected to include in that post (after two lil people, you just forget to say things sometimes), was that the surgery has been scheduled for about six weeks later, in early May. It was a date that Willy could live with, a date that assuaged my guilt a little.  It was also a date that let us think about heading out of town for a very short, adults only trip to Chicago for Wine Spectator’s Grand Tour event in early May, a trip that might not have been possible had he had the surgery been this week.

If we could pull it together, this trip would be the first time that we have left the lils for a fun, just us trip. Sure, we have left them with my siblings on two other occasions, but neither of those trips were for fun at all.  So we started to look at dates and costs, to talk about how long we could go and what we could do and see.  We started to dream. Making those plans concrete was the first item on my list for this week, seeing as it is the first time that Willy and I will be in the same country for more than a couple of days in a row this month.

Just before I left to walk the lils to school this AM, I saw a post-it on the table with Woo’s dental surgeon’s name and a phone number written on it.  One of his molars never descended, so he needs to have it extracted before it messes up his jaw and adult teeth.  It has started to bother him lately, so we are all looking forward to having the surgery (and recovery) behind us.  We were told to expect a call the week before the surgery, so I figured I would be getting pre-op instructions in the call. I called them back and was surprised to hear that the surgery had been moved to May 3rd, a full month later than planned.

I could hear the air go out of that Chicago balloon when I realized that the May 3rd was the date that we were to leave for Chicago.  Selfish me half-heartedly asked if there was a date the following week that he could have instead, even though I knew I would not make him wait even longer if there was a date available.  She let me know that it could be months if we waited, so I confirmed the date and let Willy know that we wouldn’t be going to Chicago this time.  Then it dawned on me.  Woo’s surgery is on the third.  Willy’s surgery is on the sixth.  That week is going to be all kinds of fun… Well played karma, that one selfish moment is going to come back to bite me.

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12
March

Counting with two hands

Dear Woo

Today you are SIX, or as your Auntie pointed out to you; you now need two hands to show us your age! I am amazed that we are here already, as it seems like just yesterday that you we’re born. Yet here we are.

This last year has brought with it more change, new experiences, and challenges, and you continued to amaze us with how maturely you embraced them all. You really want to live life to the fullest, and want to make sure that you understand it along the way. I am in awe of your dedication to knowledge, and fully immersing yourself into new things. It challenges us to do the same, learning along with you.

Your two great passions this year have been sports and reading. It has been so fun to watch you join a formal hockey team, and start to learn the basics of playing on a team. I love that you have fully embraced the team as part of this experience; making sure all of your teammates are included, cheering from the bench and the ice, high fives when anyone scores, and stopping to make sure a player is ok when he falls, regardless of whether he is on your team or not. You also have become quite the avid Sens fan, and I so enjoy watching them play with you.

When you aren’t playing and having fun, you often have your head buried in a book. You read every chance you get, even at the dinner table or long past your bedtime. Where you used to concentrate on non-fiction “fact” books, you have really embraced fiction, and reading for pleasure this year. It is so fun to see you discover the same worlds that I loved as a child, and to find new ones that we explore together.

Woo, you are a loving and kind little boy who is growing up before our eyes. I love to see you explore and learn, play and laugh. I hope that this year brings you more of the same.

Lots of love,
Mama

A year of Woo…
Hanging out!

Golfing 101

The family that cruises together

Batman

First day of school

Independence day

Pile up!!!!

Right Winger

Labourer

Hands on!

A little help?

Delicious

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5
March

Sass

I am very lucky in that the lils are generally quite well behaved when Willy travels. Sure they get sick most times, but they are very well behaved about it.  I guess that is part of the reason why his most recent trip, to India, has been so difficult.  They have been so difficult, and I have been handling it poorly.

The lils have been fighting, yelling, hitting each other, not listening, and answering me back since Willy left last week.  It’s all behaviour that I see from time to time, but for it to be this intense and prolonged is unusual.  I know that they miss him, but I get frustrated and sometimes I react in ways that I really shouldn’t.  They often figure out ways to work around my overreactions.  As Goose did at dinner last night.

I tend to make “safe” foods when Willy is away, so that I don’t have to fight with one or both about what they aren’t eating.  I was shocked when Woo took great offence to the fried rice that I prepared last night, as it is something that he generally devours.  Instead, he loudly expressed his displeasure for about twenty minutes, until I told him that he had to at least try it before deciding that it was the “grossest food ever”.  He did, and devoured two helpings.

It set the tone for the meal, which included several squabbles where one child had grievously wronged the other.  Finally, I had had enough, and when Goose started to lodge a complaint with “Woo said…”, I didn’t want to hear her out, or want to have them settle it themselves, or have us all move on to something more peaceful, I just wanted silence.  She persisted, despite my attempts to change or close the subject.  Finally, when she started to say “Woo said” just one more time I exasperatedly told her that I didn’t want to hear anything from her that started with “Woo said.”

“Fine!” she said, “I will end with that!” She proceeded to exactly what had offended her so, ending with “… and that is what Woo said.” I was speechless, and a little bit proud.

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15
February

Heart broken

I broke my five year old’s heart on Valentine’s Day.  I didn’t mean to do it, and didn’t think that the news I shared with him would devastate him so.  It started innocently enough.  He cuddled into bed with me this morning, as he does most days.  We just lay there for a few minutes, when he started to get restless.  I knew the question was coming, as it always does on the day after. 

“Who won last night?”

I hesitated, and he thought that meant that Ottawa had. I had to tell him that they had lost to the Penguins.  He was OK with it, even though they are his sister’s new favourite team. He turned and went to leave, but I got his attention again. “There is some bad news. Erik Karlsson got hurt last night, and it was pretty bad.  He is not going to play for a while, maybe not until next season.”

He turned away again, and I thought he was OK.  Then the sniffling started, followed by the sobs.  Why, why did this happen.  Karlsson is Daddy’s favourite player, Woo’s second favourite.  He is tickled that he gets to wear number 65 on his hockey team, and he is often Karlsson when he plays hockey in the basement.  He was crushed.

I tried to comfort him, and he pulled away, not listening.  He got up and stomped off, presumably to give his sister a piece of his mind.  The Penguins are her favourite team after all.   It’s the same way that I would have reacted at age five if one of the Montreal Canadiens best players had been seriously injured.  Heart broken.

 

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16
January

Talking to your children about homicide

This post came as the result of several conversations that I have had with friends over the last two days. Our community was stunned to learn on Monday night that a local mother had murdered her two children, and then taken her own life. My heart goes out to the family and friends who are left behind, broken. I am affected in that I live in this community, but there are others who are more closely touched, those who knew the family, whose children played with those children or who go to the same school. I don’t have to answer the difficult questions from my children, but they do. I offered to put this together for my friend Julie (of Coffee with Julie) and we both decided that we wanted to share it on our blogs, as there is very little out there to guide parents who are faced with these difficult conversations. I hope that this helps, even a little bit, it is just something that I put together from various resources that I have used in the past.

It is so hard to try and explain to our children when we cannot comprehend it ourselves. In my opinion, the most important thing is that you talk to your children. They need to hear the information from you, someone that they love and trust. This also lets you know they are getting the facts, and not rumours and guesses.

When someone dies from homicide, it is different from a natural or accidental death in that there is the knowledge that someone directly sought to bring harm to a person. That knowledge, coupled with the trauma of the sudden (and violent) death make it very difficult to understand and even more difficult to explain to adults, let alone children.

It is best if you limit your child’s exposure to media coverage of the tragedy, especially that which sensationalizes the deaths. Still, children, even those as young as four or five, may be hearing things in the media or in the school yard, and this will lead to questions. It is important that you take the time to talk to the children in terms that they understand, and answer the questions as honestly as you can (without revealing more information than they are seeking). Don’t be afraid to ask questions of your own if you are not certain what they know or where their questions are coming from. Homicide Survivors, Inc. has an extensive list of tips for talking to children about homicide:

TALK
-As soon as possible after the death, set aside time to talk with the child.
-Give the child the facts as simply as possible. Do not go into to much detail; the child will ask more questions if they come to mind.
-If you can not answer the child’s questions, it is okay to say, “I don’t know how to answer that, but perhaps we can find someone to help us”.
-Use the correct language, i.e., “dead”, “murdered”, etc. Do not use such phrases as “S/He is sleeping”, “God took him/her to heaven”, “S/He went away”, etc.
-Ask questions. “What are you feeling?”, “What have you heard from your friends?”, “What do you think happened?”, etc.
-Discuss your feelings with the child, especially if you are crying. This gives the child permission to cry too.
-Adults are children’s role models, and it is good for children to see our sadness and to share mutual feelings of sadness.
-Use the deceased’s name.
-Talk about a variety of feelings, e.g., sadness, anger, fear, depression, wishing to die, feeling responsible, etc.
-Talk about the wake/funeral, explain what happens, and ask the child if s/he wants to go. Include him/her, if possible.
-Talk with the child about your family’s spiritual beliefs, including what happens to people after they die.
-Talk about memories of the deceased, both good and bad.

THINGS TO DO
-Read to the child about death. There are many good children’s books available (see list at the end of this post)
-Read a book about children’s grief so you have a better understanding what your child is experiencing.
-Help the child write a letter to the deceased.
-Help the child keep a diary of his/her feelings.
-Invite your child and his/her friends, family members, etc. to plan a memorial for the deceased.
-Discuss rumors, media reports, etc., with the child so that s/he can clarify information regularly.

OBSERVE
-Be alert for reports or observations of “bad dreams”. Talk about them with the child. Dreams are sometimes a way to discharge stress.
-Be alert for behavioral changes in your child. If they concern you, seek professional help.

UNDERSTAND
-Understand your child’s level of comprehension and speak at that level.
-It may take some time for your child to understand the concept, “gone forever”, especially if s/he is very young.
-Your child may think that s/he caused the death because s/he had been thinking bad thoughts or had been angry with the deceased just before the death.
-The sudden and unexpected death of a peer is especially difficult for a child to comprehend; children tend to feel invulnerable.

As the child processes the information that you give them, they may repeat questions again and again, or exhibit other unexpected behaviours. Some common behaviours to watch for include; shock, anger, terror, guilt, emotional outbursts, intense sadness, and irritability. They may also display some physical symptoms such as; fatigue, insomnia, digestive upset, chills, headaches, change in appetite and other symptoms. These reactions are quite normal, and should diminish in time. If you are concerned about your child’s changing behaviour, or if the changes persist or intensify, you should talk to your family doctor.

Each child will deal with this knowledge differently, but there are some common reactions based on their developmental age (from Canadian Resource Centre for Victims of Crime)

Birth to One Year:
Some professionals believe that infants do not respond to death, as their memory capacity for relationships has not yet developed. Others believe that infants may feel anxiety and tension, as the death may interfere with their basic needs, i.e. sleeping and eating schedules.

One to Two Years of Age:
Children at this age cannot yet attribute meaning to death. Environmental change can provoke both positive and negative reactions among young children. They may react to the emotions and grieving of those around them.

Preschool Children: Three to Five Years of Age
Preschool children have a limited understanding of death. They may believe that death is temporary and can be reversed, or perceive a dead person as asleep, gone away or broken. There is no understanding of personal death.

School Age Children: Six to Nine Years of Age
Children in this age group have a clearer understanding of death although they may still believe that it will not happen to them. Children at this age may be interested in the physical and biological aspects of death. Dealing with grief is difficult as school age children alternately confront and deny their grief. They may also be unprepared for the length of the grieving process.

It is common for children in this age group to experience:
– Denial
– Difficulty expressing their strong feelings of loss
– Difficulty eating and sleeping
– Physical ailments such as stomachaches and headaches
– Fearfulness
– Decrease in school performance
– Inability to concentrate
– Anger directed towards teachers or classmates
– Inappropriate classroom behaviour

Pre-adolescent and Adolescent: 10 to 18 Years of Age
Children in this age category have a more mature understanding of death and mortality. They understand that it is irreversible. They also understand personal death, although they may view themselves as immortal. These children may experience guilt, confusion, depression, shock, crying, stomachaches, headaches, insomnia, exhaustion, dramatic reactions such as not sleeping or eating, decrease in school performance, change in peer group, possible drug use and/or sexual promiscuity.

There is no right answer about how to talk to your children about traumatic death, just as there is no typical reaction – by any child or adult – to a tragic loss. Talk to your child’s school, a counsellor, or your family doctor if you are concerned about how your child is responding to the the trauma, or if you want help supporting them at this time.

Suggested readings

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14
November

No more secrets

From the time that the lils first began to really understand us, Willy and I would switch to French when we wanted to discuss something that we didn’t want them to hear.  This most often surrounded what vegetable was hidden in their pasta sauce, whether or not it was bath night, or who would be putting which child to bed.  None of these were really conversations that the lils would have been harmed by if they had heard them, but they were occasionally tantrum inducing, so we played it safe.  These weren’t secrets, per se, it was just convenient.

As they got older, we began to use French more and more. They were starting to get more independent, and our conversations no longer revolved around what they had eaten , who had pooped last, or how many times either had gotten up I the night, so we started to talk about life and the world around us more.  Some things, like things from my work and some current events were too much for them, so we spoke French.  I needed the practice, so we ended up talking French more than we needed to.  It was nice, actually.

In the last year, Woo started to get upset with our use of the secret language.  He knew that we were talking about things that he was not allowed to hear for a variety of reasons and it frustrated him.  We got a bit of a reprieve when he started learning Spanish at school, as it gave Woo and Goose a secret language of their own, a language that we did not speak or understand.  They reprieve ended when we returned to Canada and he was no longer learning Spanish.

The demands to know what we were talking about increased.  We were no longer able to have even the most innocent conversation in French without Woo and Goose being curious.  Then one day, after they had been in school for about three weeks, Woo interrupted our conversation to ask what was “red”.  He’d been paying attention, and picked up on the word “rouge”. Several days later, they asked me to count in French for them, and when I got to trente-huit, Goose interrupted and told me that I had reached my age (she was right). Now it seems that every day they identify more in our conversations and learn more words.

Now we have no secrets.  We have to be really careful when we chose to use French, and more often than not we chose to defer conversations that are sensitive to when the lils are not within earshot, and hope that we remember to resume them.  A lot of the time, I don’t remember.  I think it is time that we learn a new language.

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