22
November
Wordless Wednesday – It bothered him that it was wrong, so he fixed it!
20
November
My not so little girl is four!
Dear Goose:
Happy birthday! A part of me finds it hard to believe that my little girl can already be four, even though you have been counting down to this birthday for months. You have grown so much in the last year, however, that a part of me regularly thinks that you were already four. At least. Every day with you is filled with your sunny disposition, the fearless way you tackle every adventure, and the love that you give so freely to those around you. You can bring a smile to my face without trying, or knowing that you are doing it.
This past year was a whirlwind for you. You experienced more in the last 365 days than I did in the first 20 years of my life, on some levels. Most of the year was spent in India, so there were transatlantic flights, trips in an around India, the Taj Mahal, the Maldives (twice!), new people, and many, many, hours logged in the car. You handled it all like a pro, especially the sleepless night in Puducherry when you gave your dad and I a play-by-play of the cyclone making landfall and destroying the resort that we were staying in. After that, not much from our adventures fazed you.
School and learning quickly became one of your favourite things. You were very keen to learn your numbers and letters, and then to start to read. You can now write all of the letters and numbers, count to ten in four different languages, and read many words. You’ve mastered biking and swimming, and look forward to doing the same with skating this winter. Although you experienced your first lost finger nail and first stitches, among other bumps and bruises, you still want to dive right into new things.
This year you also learned how hard it is to leave people behind that you love. You made excellent friends while we were in India, and I know that you miss them still. I am happy to see that you are settling in to your new school here, and starting to connect with old friends and make new ones too.
I can’t wait to see what this year brings!
Love,
Mama
learning the harmonium
new scooter: mastered!
beach chic
hanging with one of my besties!
admiring the Taj Mahal
waiting to go home to Ottawa for a visit
I can stand!! 🙂
lil fishie
waiting for the sharks to swim by in the Maldives
celebrating India’s Independence day
I like to take pictures too
reconnecting
17
November
Anticipation
My father lost hearing in his left ear when I was in grade five. The decline had been gradual, and caused by complications from Ménière’s disease, but the hearing was completely gone by then. He wore a hearing aid in his “good” ear, and that helped somewhat, but we were still a loud house as a result. Well, louder than the average house with three teenagers was. After a while the noise just blurred, and you didn’t notice it anymore. It was always loud.
It’s somewhat ironic that I am once again living in a loud house. Willy has been experiencing degeneration in his hearing for the last ten years or so. It was worse in his left ear, and about five years ago he was diagnosed with a disease called otosclerosis. Essentially, there is a build-up of protein in and on the stapes bone inside his ear (the stapes is one of the three teeny, tiny bones in your ears). Over time, the legions prevent the bone from vibrating and transmitting sound. Hearing loss generally occurs at the middle and lower frequencies first, eventually progressing to the higher frequencies.
Luckily, hearing loss due to otosclerosis is one of few hearing losses that can be effectively treated by surgery (alternate choice is hearing aids). When Willy was first diagnosed, treatment options were discussed and it was determined that surgery was the best course of action for him. The surgery, a stapedectomy, involves the removal of the stapes bone, and replacing it with synthetic stapes, made of teflon. Apparently, nothing sticks to teflon. The doctors wanted to perform the surgery on one ear at a time, and his audiogram showed that only his left ear met the threshold for performing the surgery.
The surgery was performed about eight weeks after Goose was born in January of 2009. The days that followed we a little uncomfortable for Willy; he was dizzy and groggy and wasn’t able to do much other than sleep for eighteen hours a day for the first week (did I mention we had a newborn?!), but was gradually able to return to normal activities, like lifting anything over ten pounds (which included said newborn!) after about three weeks. The recovery was fairly quick and the end results were worth it. Willy regained his hearing in his left ear, and was much happier.
Four years later, we are where we were before. The TV is always way too loud for my comfort; loud rooms make it impossible for Willy to hear anything; I speak too quietly for him to hear me; or he is out of earshot when I call, even though out of earshot is in the next room. It’s frustrating for both of us. He often just doesn’t hear what I say, but I feel it is too insignificant to repeat, like my under-my-breath mutterings that were of little consequence the first time I said it, or the causal comment about a car that was long gone before I’d repeated the comment once, let alone the two or three times that it might have taken to have it heard.
We have both been waiting anxiously for today. His hearing test was booked months ago, before even we left India. We knew that it would show that his hearing was bad enough that he would qualify for the surgery, and hoped that it wold “count” as his pre-surgery consultation, and get him one step closer to the surgery. The doctor who had performed his surgery has retired, and the results of the appointment with the new doctor were mixed. Yes, his hearing loss is well within what is needed for surgery, but he needs to be referred to a surgeon. The wait could be up to a year, but we hope it will be much shorter. Until then, we wait, in anticipation.
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.
13
November
The money game
It seems that there comes a time in every lils life when they are curious enough about money to want some of their own. For us, this came in the last six months of our time in India. I guess that the lils had heard enough of us converting prices and exclaiming over the relative price of things, and wanted to have a little bit of pocket money of their own. I was surprised that it came this early, but saw an allowance as a good way to teach about managing money, so we agreed to start contributing.
I had put a good deal of thought into how they could earn the allowance already, and talked to Willy about paying them for special chores. I didn’t want to be giving them money just so that they could have money, and felt that they shouldn’t be compensated for chores that were part of their regular contribution to the household (ie clearing their dishes after a meal), so we started to pay them for special chores, things that weren’t part of their regular routine. Chores like pulling the laundry out of the washer and bringing the basket to me, or bringing me one of the endless things that I had forgotten elsewhere in the house but was too lazy to go and get myself.
For the most part, they loved it. We were living in India, so they were paid in rupees. The rate for a chore was in the neighbourhood of 2-5rs (or 4-10₵), which might seem really low, but actually allowed them to but tonnes of stuff. At first all they wanted to do was play with the money, which was fine until it all gravitated to Woo’s secret hiding place. We redistributed and eventually convinced them to go shopping and see what they wanted to buy. They knew that they could buy ANYTHING they wanted, but both wanted books. I felt bad that they were using all of their allowance on something that I would have bought them anyway, so we struck an agreement. We would subsidize the cost of anything that we would have normally bought for them, like a new book they were keen to read or art supplies, but that they had to pay the full price for toys or treats. We were all happy.
The allowance practice has continued since we have returned to Canada, although we have converted to Canadian dollars and upped the rate a bit. Their willingness to do chores is pretty sporadic at best, but so is my ability to remember to come up with chores for them. They actually haven’t had a chance to spend any of their allowance since we moved home, and, given that they seemed to care more about getting a coin that was from their year of birth than they were the value of the coin, I was beginning to worry that I needed to rethink allowance as a way to educate them about managing money and it’s purchasing power.
That changed this evening when the lils were sent to tidy the play room. It had been well played over the course of the weekend, and needed quite a bit of work. I was curious when Woo returned to the kitchen after just a few minutes in the basement. He was looking a little too pleased with himself, so I asked him what was up. He replied that he had made a promise to his sister. He convinced her that she should clean the mess in exchange for some coins from his piggy bank! I did not expect that he would be paying her to do his work at such a young age, but I was impressed that he had negotiated it with little fuss. I wasn’t sure how to react, so I headed down to check with Goose, and make sure that she was aware of what she had agreed to. I found her in the basement, happily tidying and singing to herself. She recounted the same story that Woo had told me, and seemed to be happy. When the tidying was done, Woo did pay her 51₵, an amount that pleased them both. Maybe they are getting the hang of this money thing.
9
November
Simple kindness
Mornings, for the last little while, have been the lowest part of my day. Many nights either start with me going to bed too late, get interrupted in the middle by a small person needing to pee in the dark, or begin far too early, because that is when little tummies grumble. To top it off, no matter what I seem to do, my days have been starting with a headache for the last few weeks. I am groggy to start off, and may even be a little bit grumbly.
Yesterday was one of those days that should have snapped me out of it quickly. A crisp but sunny morning with a heavy frost, something I had been waiting for. I love the way that frost alters objects, and wanted to take some pictures with my macro. The lils were in the final stages of school prep when I managed to sneak out for a few shots. My quick review was somewhat disappointing, so I decided to take my camera on the walk to school with the lils and hope for better shots.
Stopping on the way to school was out of the question. I have one slow walker who likes to stop and collect treasures and one fast walker who is typically a block or so ahead. If I were to start stopping to take pictures, chaos would ensue. Instead I mentally marked things that I could photograph on the way home and herded the lils to school.
The trip home was somewhat disappointing. I was underdressed and cold, so I rushed and missed half of the things that I had marked for shooting or the shots I took didn’t work out how I had envisioned them when I was walking from the other direction. My macro lens, which has been acting up for a while, has gotten worse since I used it last and fails to focus at times, which is frustrating. I was about to give up and figure out something else for my wordless Wednesday post when I happened on a little garden that had some neat plant/frost combos. I knelt down, just off the main street and started clicking away. As I was immersed in my own little world, I had a vague sensation of a car driving by really slowly, backing up, and moving forward slowly.
I was trying to figure out what the car was doing as I got up and headed the last bit home. When I pulled even with the car, the driver leaned over and said “Are you feeling well? Are you OK?” I explained what I had been doing and we both laughed and carried on. I felt differently though. All it took was that simple act of kindness, her taking the time from her trip to notice and stop to ask for my outlook on my day to change. I had energy that was lacking before, I lost the grumbles that I woke up with, and was reminded that the little kindnesses really do matter. That’s the kind of reset I love.
6
November
Is outrage all you’ve got?
Since I have been back in Canada, I find that I am way more in touch with friends and acquaintances who live here, and with current events that affect North America. This is likely because I am living in the correct time zone, and I have ample access to coverage of events as they happen. As such, I get to see how people react to these events in real time, and I have to say that I have noticed a trend that bothers me a great deal. I see people reacting to events, to simple news stories, or to decisions that should not even be news with extreme outrage, disproportionate to the event in question.
There are several events from the week that passed that highlight this for me. There was a story in our local newspaper about a single mom who went to the food bank, despite the fact that many felt that she was living beyond her means, and not in fact poor; the decision by the City of New York to at first hold, and then cancel/postpone the NYC Marathon; the announcement that Shopper’s Drug Mart made with regards to their decision to suspend the playing of Christmas music in their stores for a few more weeks; and a story that a friend of mine told me, where she had a close call when driving, acknowledged that she came close to hitting the other car and apologized. In each of these cases, many of the reactions that I witnessed were instant outrage.
The responders voiced, typed, or gestured their opinion with little thought to the impact on those reading or experiencing it. In the case of my friend, the other driver followed her down the road and continued to yell and gesture at her in extreme anger. THEY endangered far more people than her close call had, and the bottom line is that no one was hurt, and there was no damage to any property. In all of the other examples, the anger and aggression was directed at all parties – those who made the decisions, those who supported, and those who were against it. In many cases, those who were most vocal were seemingly the farthest removed from the issue.
In some ways, it is the type of behaviour that I would attribute to the regular trolls that are seen in the most online forums, who seem to need to share their negative views on absolutely everything that they see and read; they aren’t. These are also people that I know, in person and online, whose reactions seem out of character with the people who are sharing them. I wonder why, all of a sudden, I see this. Have they always been like this? Am I just now more sensitive?
I find it odd to say this, as one who has been (rightly) accused of overreacting to things on more than one occasion, but I just don’t understand where all this vitriol and anger is coming from, and how it is really productive in the grand scheme of things. I’d much rather see a reasoned argument as why something is “wrong” in a person’s eyes, or a civil discussion about the merits of different points of view than read a hate laced rant about the absurdity of the decisions made.
