Subscribe
In Rhode Island, the governor has exercised his right to veto a state bill. The bill in question would have mandated that infertility treatments for all women be covered by insurance. In using his veto, the state law remains the same: infertility treatments are only covered for married women.
His justification is that he wants to encourage children being brought up in two-parent families. However, Rhode Island does not have a same-sex marriage statute, so all two-parent households with same-sex partners are excluded. Also excluded are all two-parent households where the couple are common-law spouses but not legally married. And, that doesn't even consider the single women who want to start a family without a spouse.
However, this is a thinly-veiled attempt to prevent same-sex couples from having children. At the cost of heterosexuals who, for one reason or another are not married (presumably in his mind those who are not married are living in sin, according to Christian doctrine), the state can make it more difficult for a lesbian couple to have a child.
Regardless of religious or social beliefs, the basic premise in the US (as well as here in Canada) is that all people are equal, and should be afforded equal rights. The application of this veto is contrary to this premise. A woman should not be forced to pay for a medical treatment out of pocket while other women with identical insurance coverage are provided for by the insurance company.
The Brief Side
First up, we have an interesting study from Missouri, where they have found that acceptance of a pregnancy can impact the attachment the child has to their mother.
A sad story that also serves to remind us of the importance of being safe all the time: a driver has been charged with manslaughter after he hit a 14 month old toddler while attempting to splash him with a puddle.
In the UK, a woman was visited by police, who criticized her parenting of her three year old daughter. Apparently, she was reported by a bystander when she put her screaming toddler in the car to calm down after being refused more candy.
One study has made an interesting (at least to me) discovery: children from rural homes fare better at science than their urban and suburban counterparts. The theory is that the real-world application of science in farming helps the children comprehend the subjects better.
A thought-provoking piece about how advances in vehicle technology alert drivers who forget their keys, or their lights on, and asks why can't there be a child in car alert as well. On a related note, there's a look at how sentences vary for the people who leave children to die in hot cars.
Here's a little article about daddy bonding. It's a bit of a puff piece, but a good read nonetheless.
For those who need even more news, there is a new Daditorial up where I look at a recent decision from the Supreme Court of Canada regarding parents and child welfare.
TRS: T.T.W.O.C.W.W.
On Friday night I brought in the car (the beater I drive to work) to get the air conditioning fixed, and since we weren't 100% sure whether it would be done that evening or Saturday morning, we killed some time looking at linens. (Oh, did I forget to mention MTM has decided that we need to "redo" the bedroom? Yes, the bedroom that contains only things she chose; that one.)
In the same plaza, there was a Bonnie Togs. So, of course we went in there as well. (Did I mention there was a SourceCC in the plaza as well? But we didn't get there; oh no, we didn't get there.) While we were in there the munchkin decided it was time to try out car seats. Never mind that we practically have to convince her to get into hers nowadays, she wanted to sit.in.all.of.them. And have me strap her in. And then complain that she was stuck. (She even went into an infant carrier one, at which point my heart broke a little inside, seeing how big she's gotten and remembering how little she used to be.) It was at this point that I began to suspect something was amiss.
We went home and decided to feed the munchkin a quick dinner (in case the car place called). By the time dinner was over, my suspicions were confirmed. Somewhere while we were out (my belief is that it is the linens store, because, well, that place is the embodiment of evil), the munchkin was swapped with The Toddler Who Only Communicates With Whining (TTWOCWW).
She whined while MTM prepared her dinner.
She whined while she ate her dinner.
She whined when MTM wouldn't give her exactly.what.she.wanted.
She whined so hard she actually got back downstairs for a snack after getting into her pajamas (an event never before recorded in our family's history).
When she finally went down (after several minutes of whining and a second call for Mommy), we heaved a sigh of relief and slumped on the couch, two useless lumps.
Saturday morning I let MTM sleep in while I got up with TTWOCWW at 6:30am. At 6:45am the plaintive whining for Mommy in its many variations (I need Mommy cuddles; where is Mommy? I want to go upstairs and see Mommy, I'm feeling sad - I want Mommy) started, and continued until MTM flushed the toilet upstairs at 8:10am. The sound of water rushing through the house acted like a switch, and for a few precious moments, the munchkin had returned.
By the time we picked up the car and had some lunch, it was well into the afternoon, and TTWOCWW had reared its whiny little head again. In an effort to avoid a complete mental breakdown, we decided to go out in the hopes of distracting TTWOCWW. Unfortunately, it seems that bra shopping and looking at PSP games does not entertain TTWOCWW, and we ended up back at home (but not without a stop at the grocery store where she made a spectacle of herself).
Saturday's dinner was more or less a repeat of Friday's. Incessant complaints about anything and everything, sudden screams and fits of complete toddler rage.
Sunday morning I got my sleep in while MTM and TTWOCWW hung out. Once I was up MTM announced that we were going to the splash pad in an effort to keep TTWOCWW at bay for a while longer. We played there for a good 45 minutes, during which time I only saw the munchkin. It was beautiful, blissful, and stinkin' hot. But I was not complaining, because my ears were enjoying the happy squeals (or maybe just the reprieve from the whining).
Unfortunately, the enjoyment was short-lived, as we stopped at another grocery store for a couple things. This time I had to send MTM and TTWOCWW out while we were in the checkout line because TTWOCWW had just gotten to be too much, and I was embarrassed.
She (TTWOCWW) fell asleep on the four minute drive home from the grocery store, so we kept her asleep while MTM prepared lunch. It was a nice little trip down memory lane, having her asleep on my shoulder (although again I was reminded of just how much she has grown). Once she awoke, though, it was back to TTWOCWW: this time with sleepiness thrown in!
She struggled against her nap, and wound up in bed for maybe 45 minutes (she usually needs 2 hours), so we knew we were in for a rough afternoon. We tried to go for a walk to get the mail (that ended with me carrying a screaming toddler home down our street... oh, the pride). We tried to play with wheeled toys on the driveway (that ended when I attempted to redirect a careening toddler vehicle so it didn't ding the car). Finally, we drank beer played in her tent on the front lawn.
In an effort to have a semi-pleasant meal, we allowed TTWOCWW to watch Dora and Diego while she at her dinner at her little picnic table. It didn't work.
I don't know what was wrong. At some points she insisted on being on the potty every five minutes, so maybe she was having gastrointestinal issues. But to have them last all.friggin.weekend? I just don't see it. Maybe she was overtired from the cottage? I don't know. I just hope we figure it out soon, because TTWOCWW has worn out her welcome.
In the same plaza, there was a Bonnie Togs. So, of course we went in there as well. (Did I mention there was a SourceCC in the plaza as well? But we didn't get there; oh no, we didn't get there.) While we were in there the munchkin decided it was time to try out car seats. Never mind that we practically have to convince her to get into hers nowadays, she wanted to sit.in.all.of.them. And have me strap her in. And then complain that she was stuck. (She even went into an infant carrier one, at which point my heart broke a little inside, seeing how big she's gotten and remembering how little she used to be.) It was at this point that I began to suspect something was amiss.We went home and decided to feed the munchkin a quick dinner (in case the car place called). By the time dinner was over, my suspicions were confirmed. Somewhere while we were out (my belief is that it is the linens store, because, well, that place is the embodiment of evil), the munchkin was swapped with The Toddler Who Only Communicates With Whining (TTWOCWW).She whined while MTM prepared her dinner.
She whined while she ate her dinner.
She whined when MTM wouldn't give her exactly.what.she.wanted.
She whined so hard she actually got back downstairs for a snack after getting into her pajamas (an event never before recorded in our family's history).
When she finally went down (after several minutes of whining and a second call for Mommy), we heaved a sigh of relief and slumped on the couch, two useless lumps.Saturday morning I let MTM sleep in while I got up with TTWOCWW at 6:30am. At 6:45am the plaintive whining for Mommy in its many variations (I need Mommy cuddles; where is Mommy? I want to go upstairs and see Mommy, I'm feeling sad - I want Mommy) started, and continued until MTM flushed the toilet upstairs at 8:10am. The sound of water rushing through the house acted like a switch, and for a few precious moments, the munchkin had returned.
By the time we picked up the car and had some lunch, it was well into the afternoon, and TTWOCWW had reared its whiny little head again. In an effort to avoid a complete mental breakdown, we decided to go out in the hopes of distracting TTWOCWW. Unfortunately, it seems that bra shopping and looking at PSP games does not entertain TTWOCWW, and we ended up back at home (but not without a stop at the grocery store where she made a spectacle of herself).Saturday's dinner was more or less a repeat of Friday's. Incessant complaints about anything and everything, sudden screams and fits of complete toddler rage.
Sunday morning I got my sleep in while MTM and TTWOCWW hung out. Once I was up MTM announced that we were going to the splash pad in an effort to keep TTWOCWW at bay for a while longer. We played there for a good 45 minutes, during which time I only saw the munchkin. It was beautiful, blissful, and stinkin' hot. But I was not complaining, because my ears were enjoying the happy squeals (or maybe just the reprieve from the whining).Unfortunately, the enjoyment was short-lived, as we stopped at another grocery store for a couple things. This time I had to send MTM and TTWOCWW out while we were in the checkout line because TTWOCWW had just gotten to be too much, and I was embarrassed.
She (TTWOCWW) fell asleep on the four minute drive home from the grocery store, so we kept her asleep while MTM prepared lunch. It was a nice little trip down memory lane, having her asleep on my shoulder (although again I was reminded of just how much she has grown). Once she awoke, though, it was back to TTWOCWW: this time with sleepiness thrown in!
She struggled against her nap, and wound up in bed for maybe 45 minutes (she usually needs 2 hours), so we knew we were in for a rough afternoon. We tried to go for a walk to get the mail (that ended with me carrying a screaming toddler home down our street... oh, the pride). We tried to play with wheeled toys on the driveway (that ended when I attempted to redirect a careening toddler vehicle so it didn't ding the car). Finally, we In an effort to have a semi-pleasant meal, we allowed TTWOCWW to watch Dora and Diego while she at her dinner at her little picnic table. It didn't work.
I don't know what was wrong. At some points she insisted on being on the potty every five minutes, so maybe she was having gastrointestinal issues. But to have them last all.friggin.weekend? I just don't see it. Maybe she was overtired from the cottage? I don't know. I just hope we figure it out soon, because TTWOCWW has worn out her welcome.
TBS/THS: Keyword Madness II
It's that time again: search hit time! As with the previous edition, these are actual search strings from actual hits.
what happened to daniel cook? emily
If you already know the answer, why search for it?
bad vegan child
I'm going to go out on limb here and say, "one who went to McDonald's"
what is tws mtm
You seriously googled this? There's an abbreviations list to the left that covers these things.
dad in panties
uh, no.
winning child over with material goods
It can work, but it gets pricey once they hit the Nintendo years.
skinamarinky dinky dink skinamarinky do i love you skinamarinky dinky dink skinamarinky do i love you, i love you in the morning and in the afternoon, i love you in the evening and underneath the moon. skinamarinky dinky dink, skinamarinky do, i love you
Er, OK. I love you too. (Seriously, they typed the whole song into google.)
why is it important to celebrate 10th wedding anniversary
If you want to see your 11th.
children crocs heat emergency
Did they melt and stick to the asphalt?
the groove strap made her anus bleed
Stop using the groove strap then. (And stop visiting me too, while you're at it.)
what to use for slippery covered porch
If it was just slippery, I could help. But since it's covered and slippery, well, you're out of luck.
i was advised to only let loulou eat three placentas?
Please, oh please let "loulou" be some sort of family pet. And even if that's the case, ew! (Never mind where would one get three placenta.)
cuddle, crack cocaine, study, ucla
I don't even know where to begin. Do you cuddle the crack cocaine? Do you take the crack before studying to improve your chances of getting into UCLA?
step on a rusty nail worst symptoms
I guess the worst symptom is the nail sticking out of your foot!
mbt flame sport walker
MBT has a sport walker that shoots flames?
east side marios washroom photographs
And coming up next week, number seven on the list of things I never want to see.
young son hugged and kissed another boy adhd
Oh give it up, people. You cannot transmit ADHD through kissing!
i went to ikea
I feel your pain.
wife lululemon
Yours too.
On a more serious note, my latest Daditorial looks at a man who shook a baby unconscious. I think you will find his reason mortifying, let alone the act itself.
what happened to daniel cook? emily
If you already know the answer, why search for it?
bad vegan child
I'm going to go out on limb here and say, "one who went to McDonald's"
what is tws mtm
You seriously googled this? There's an abbreviations list to the left that covers these things.
dad in panties
uh, no.
winning child over with material goods
It can work, but it gets pricey once they hit the Nintendo years.
skinamarinky dinky dink skinamarinky do i love you skinamarinky dinky dink skinamarinky do i love you, i love you in the morning and in the afternoon, i love you in the evening and underneath the moon. skinamarinky dinky dink, skinamarinky do, i love you
Er, OK. I love you too. (Seriously, they typed the whole song into google.)
why is it important to celebrate 10th wedding anniversary
If you want to see your 11th.
children crocs heat emergency
Did they melt and stick to the asphalt?
the groove strap made her anus bleed
Stop using the groove strap then. (And stop visiting me too, while you're at it.)
what to use for slippery covered porch
If it was just slippery, I could help. But since it's covered and slippery, well, you're out of luck.
i was advised to only let loulou eat three placentas?
Please, oh please let "loulou" be some sort of family pet. And even if that's the case, ew! (Never mind where would one get three placenta.)
cuddle, crack cocaine, study, ucla
I don't even know where to begin. Do you cuddle the crack cocaine? Do you take the crack before studying to improve your chances of getting into UCLA?
step on a rusty nail worst symptoms
I guess the worst symptom is the nail sticking out of your foot!
mbt flame sport walker
MBT has a sport walker that shoots flames?
east side marios washroom photographs
And coming up next week, number seven on the list of things I never want to see.
young son hugged and kissed another boy adhd
Oh give it up, people. You cannot transmit ADHD through kissing!
i went to ikea
I feel your pain.
wife lululemon
Yours too.
On a more serious note, my latest Daditorial looks at a man who shook a baby unconscious. I think you will find his reason mortifying, let alone the act itself.
TWS: Four Years...
Before the post begins you will see a flash player: this is the soundtrack to the post. If you have headphones or are in an environment that allows you to, please hit play before reading.
He rolled over and looked at the clock. 4:30am. No way. He had just gotten to bed at 2am after driving his sister back to her apartment (on the other side of town) because she stayed to watch the series finale of Oz. There was no way he was getting up yet.
Believing he had slept well, he checked the clock again. 5:10am. Crap.
He tossed and turned, and finally, at 6am, got out of bed and booted up the computer to play Internet Checkers with some people who were obviously in another timezone and awake at this time of the morning on a Saturday. After an hour of that, he drove to Tim Hortons and grabbed a coffee and some Timbits and sat on the bench in front of the house where they were renting their basement apartment. He had hoped that someone upstairs would notice him outside so he would have someone to talk to.
Giving up on that plan, he descended into the apartment and began to get ready. He shaved, then showered, then spiked his hair just the way she liked it. Checking his watch, he would still be early, but not so early as to be unreasonable. So, he packed up his tuxedo and hopped into the van, driving himself to the hotel where his parents were staying, which would also be doubling as "the house of the groom" that day.
He walked into his parents' room to see a flurry of activity. All the women on his side were getting their hair done in their room, apparently. Already having trouble coping with his anxiety, he quietly excused himself to the hall. Eventually the excitement subsided, most people left, and he was able to go inside and get dressed.
The photographer and videographer arrived, and tried to make small talk. Given that they were not his friends, and had limited knowledge of each other, he had little interest in making them feel at ease, or even welcome to speak to him socially. All he wanted was to be told where to stand, where to look, and when to smile. They could keep their "How's it going?" and their "You got cold feet?" to themselves.
His mother, already exhausted from the traveling and the rehearsal, sat listlessly in a lobby chair as he and his father stood around her for pictures. At her insistence, her oxygen tube was removed, making her even more lethargic. In his mind, he wondered if she would even make it to the ceremony.
His best man rode with him in the limo to the church, where they went into the basement (where the "groom's room" was in that church) to wait. After a fair bit of pacing, his best man took out a deck of cards from his pocket, and they proceeded to play hands of cribbage, but not keeping score (because that would be too much like gambling in a church).
Eventually, the minister summoned them upstairs to the front of the church. And even though the music was wrong and his aunt was waving like a lunatic at him, none of that mattered. The doors at the back of the church opened and he gasped audibly as she entered the room. Everything was going to be OK.
That was four years ago today. Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart. I love you.
He rolled over and looked at the clock. 4:30am. No way. He had just gotten to bed at 2am after driving his sister back to her apartment (on the other side of town) because she stayed to watch the series finale of Oz. There was no way he was getting up yet.
Believing he had slept well, he checked the clock again. 5:10am. Crap.
He tossed and turned, and finally, at 6am, got out of bed and booted up the computer to play Internet Checkers with some people who were obviously in another timezone and awake at this time of the morning on a Saturday. After an hour of that, he drove to Tim Hortons and grabbed a coffee and some Timbits and sat on the bench in front of the house where they were renting their basement apartment. He had hoped that someone upstairs would notice him outside so he would have someone to talk to.
Giving up on that plan, he descended into the apartment and began to get ready. He shaved, then showered, then spiked his hair just the way she liked it. Checking his watch, he would still be early, but not so early as to be unreasonable. So, he packed up his tuxedo and hopped into the van, driving himself to the hotel where his parents were staying, which would also be doubling as "the house of the groom" that day.
He walked into his parents' room to see a flurry of activity. All the women on his side were getting their hair done in their room, apparently. Already having trouble coping with his anxiety, he quietly excused himself to the hall. Eventually the excitement subsided, most people left, and he was able to go inside and get dressed.
The photographer and videographer arrived, and tried to make small talk. Given that they were not his friends, and had limited knowledge of each other, he had little interest in making them feel at ease, or even welcome to speak to him socially. All he wanted was to be told where to stand, where to look, and when to smile. They could keep their "How's it going?" and their "You got cold feet?" to themselves.
His mother, already exhausted from the traveling and the rehearsal, sat listlessly in a lobby chair as he and his father stood around her for pictures. At her insistence, her oxygen tube was removed, making her even more lethargic. In his mind, he wondered if she would even make it to the ceremony.
His best man rode with him in the limo to the church, where they went into the basement (where the "groom's room" was in that church) to wait. After a fair bit of pacing, his best man took out a deck of cards from his pocket, and they proceeded to play hands of cribbage, but not keeping score (because that would be too much like gambling in a church).
Eventually, the minister summoned them upstairs to the front of the church. And even though the music was wrong and his aunt was waving like a lunatic at him, none of that mattered. The doors at the back of the church opened and he gasped audibly as she entered the room. Everything was going to be OK.
That was four years ago today. Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart. I love you.
TTS: Temporary Bachelorhood
As I mentioned on Monday, MTM packed up the munchkin (and what appeared to be most of the stuff we owned) into our van and made the trip north to her family cottage. For a few reasons (not being as enamoured with the cottage life, limited vacation schedule, lack of interest in seeing more of my in-laws) we decided that I would remain in town.
On Saturday, I will freely admit to being a little teary; not uncontrollably sobbing, unable to speak; just teary. I knew I would miss them, but I also knew that they would have a lot of fun up north.
Some would assume I was elated to have time to myself, and while I did capitalize on it by reading the Harry Potter book, I have to say in all truth that this isn't all it's cracked up to be. I wrote a similarly-themed post last year when they went, but that was in August and I will not get to posting those (as part of Throwback Thursday) for quite a while, so I will reiterate the basics of it here.
Sure, having the flexibility of life without a toddler is nice. Did I enjoy getting out to see Transformers two nights ago? Definitely. However, do I prefer this life to the one I have? Most certainly not.
I was a bachelor. I lived that life: my own apartment, my own schedule, my own rules. But I chose to abandon that life in favour of marriage and later parenthood (the munchkin was most certainly not a surprise). I have the life I want; I don't need "time off" or the illusion of occasional periods of freedom. If I did, and the absence of such times bothered me, I would not have gotten married.
At my request, we talk once a day, usually for a few minutes, so it's not like we're totally isolated. I get a brief rundown of the day's events from MTM, and I talk to the munchkin for the 10 seconds or so that her attention span will allocate me. I tell her I miss her and I love her (and of course I tell MTM the same thing), and then we go back to our temporarily separate lives.
Yeah, it's nice to have the freedom to watch whatever I want on tv or eat at whatever time I want. But I still miss my girls. And given the choice, I'd rather have them here with me.
ThrowbackThursday Wednesday
There was a bit of confusion with blogger and its back-dating feature, so some of the old posts may have appeared on your feeds. The links there probably won't work, but you can get to them via the links below.
Today's set is from the first half of July 2006, from my previous blog. I think I've decided that once I "catch up" (i.e. I am at the same date in my old posts from last year) I will run the throwbacks as a "last year this week" sort of thing.
On Saturday, I will freely admit to being a little teary; not uncontrollably sobbing, unable to speak; just teary. I knew I would miss them, but I also knew that they would have a lot of fun up north.
Some would assume I was elated to have time to myself, and while I did capitalize on it by reading the Harry Potter book, I have to say in all truth that this isn't all it's cracked up to be. I wrote a similarly-themed post last year when they went, but that was in August and I will not get to posting those (as part of Throwback Thursday) for quite a while, so I will reiterate the basics of it here.
Sure, having the flexibility of life without a toddler is nice. Did I enjoy getting out to see Transformers two nights ago? Definitely. However, do I prefer this life to the one I have? Most certainly not.
I was a bachelor. I lived that life: my own apartment, my own schedule, my own rules. But I chose to abandon that life in favour of marriage and later parenthood (the munchkin was most certainly not a surprise). I have the life I want; I don't need "time off" or the illusion of occasional periods of freedom. If I did, and the absence of such times bothered me, I would not have gotten married.
At my request, we talk once a day, usually for a few minutes, so it's not like we're totally isolated. I get a brief rundown of the day's events from MTM, and I talk to the munchkin for the 10 seconds or so that her attention span will allocate me. I tell her I miss her and I love her (and of course I tell MTM the same thing), and then we go back to our temporarily separate lives.
Yeah, it's nice to have the freedom to watch whatever I want on tv or eat at whatever time I want. But I still miss my girls. And given the choice, I'd rather have them here with me.
Throwback
There was a bit of confusion with blogger and its back-dating feature, so some of the old posts may have appeared on your feeds. The links there probably won't work, but you can get to them via the links below.
Today's set is from the first half of July 2006, from my previous blog. I think I've decided that once I "catch up" (i.e. I am at the same date in my old posts from last year) I will run the throwbacks as a "last year this week" sort of thing.
- TNS: People Are Like This?!? (my first news article discussion; interesting if for no other reason than the self-censor hasn't been applied yet)
- TDS: How Cute Is This?
- TWS: Laid-Up Dad (a more detailed account of last summer and my broken ankle)
- TDS: Language Comprehension (another anecdote I've shared here, in more detail)
- TDS: The Best Mail Trip Ever!
- TTS: Nature vs. Nurture (my first "navel gazing" post)
TNS: All-Brief Edition
There were a large number of stories worth sharing this week, so I have forgone my usual featured article discussion in order to keep the length of this post somewhat reasonable.
We open with a cautionary tale for co-sleepers everywhere: a three year old girl is dead after her father rolled over onto her while he was sleeping.
Here's an article about an interesting concept for a reality show called crash test mommies, where a SAHM gets a weekend away while someone else (who thinks they can do a better job) takes over their role for 48 hours.
I found this piece very informative. It's about the current trend of teens and caffeine, and the health risks associated with it.
A very disturbing tale from Japan, where a girl stabbed her father. The reason? She had to drop out of private school. In a similar story, a teen robbed a bank to pay for college tuition.
In Florida, a woman organized the theft of a puppy from a store. The criminals she co-ordinated? Her own children.
Here is an interesting look at air travel with children from both the parent as well as airline employee perspectives.
In Iran, a father was in the delivery room for the first time in that country's history. The rationale was that the women would be more likely to have a vaginal birth (as opposed to the current trend in Iran for caesarian births).
A frightening discovery has been made in the medical field: Ritalin stunts growth.
And finally, a sobering fact comes out of research into online activity involving youths: 1 in 25 kids are asked for sexual pictures while online.
If you're still looking for commentary, you can head over to Daditorial, where I look at someone being called a "ghetto dude" when applying for a job - you'll be surprised to learn where.
We open with a cautionary tale for co-sleepers everywhere: a three year old girl is dead after her father rolled over onto her while he was sleeping.
Here's an article about an interesting concept for a reality show called crash test mommies, where a SAHM gets a weekend away while someone else (who thinks they can do a better job) takes over their role for 48 hours.
I found this piece very informative. It's about the current trend of teens and caffeine, and the health risks associated with it.
A very disturbing tale from Japan, where a girl stabbed her father. The reason? She had to drop out of private school. In a similar story, a teen robbed a bank to pay for college tuition.
In Florida, a woman organized the theft of a puppy from a store. The criminals she co-ordinated? Her own children.
Here is an interesting look at air travel with children from both the parent as well as airline employee perspectives.
In Iran, a father was in the delivery room for the first time in that country's history. The rationale was that the women would be more likely to have a vaginal birth (as opposed to the current trend in Iran for caesarian births).
A frightening discovery has been made in the medical field: Ritalin stunts growth.
And finally, a sobering fact comes out of research into online activity involving youths: 1 in 25 kids are asked for sexual pictures while online.
If you're still looking for commentary, you can head over to Daditorial, where I look at someone being called a "ghetto dude" when applying for a job - you'll be surprised to learn where.
TRS: Deathly Boring
On Friday I came home from work on the earlier side of normal to spend whatever time I could with my girls before Saturday morning rolled around. Unfortunately, the munchkin had been very fussy all.day.long, so MTM was more than a little harried. The munchkin and I hung out in our bedroom and watched a little Treehouse while MTM relaxed, and then heated up dinner.
After dinner we tried to distract the munchkin with errands (usually she loves going out and about) but that failed miserably. She had tantrum after tantrum, and we eventually just gave up and left without completing everything. She went to bed surprisingly easily, given her disposition most of the evening.
MTM ran about, making last minute packing decisions while I relaxed and goofed with my PSP. We watched a little Pretender on DVD (we're almost done season 3) and MTM went to bed, anticipating an early start.
Around 11:40pm, I hopped in the car and went to the local Shoppers Drug Mart, which was staying open until 1am Friday night for the release of the new Harry Potter book. Combining the speculation about selling out with the fact that I would be solo this weekend, I decided to grab it at release along with the strange people who decide to buy their books at SDM. The people there? Well, let's just say more than one was begging me to open a can of whoop-ass and distribute it among his friends. (Sorry people, but when it's midnight and I'm listening to three men, easily in their mid-20s, competing in line to see who can read the first chapter before checking out, I get a little testy.)
Saturday morning the munchkin and MTM left for the cottage around 8am. I spent the remainder of the day (seriously) reading the book. I took breaks, of course, but predominantly my Saturday was spent lounging and reading. I had planned on reading it all in one day. However, when I read the same paragraph four times at 1am I gave up and went to bed.
Sunday, after finishing the book, I mowed the lawn, did a few errands, and came home, where I once again goofed on my PSP.
Jeez, weekends without my kid are pretty lame.
After dinner we tried to distract the munchkin with errands (usually she loves going out and about) but that failed miserably. She had tantrum after tantrum, and we eventually just gave up and left without completing everything. She went to bed surprisingly easily, given her disposition most of the evening.
MTM ran about, making last minute packing decisions while I relaxed and goofed with my PSP. We watched a little Pretender on DVD (we're almost done season 3) and MTM went to bed, anticipating an early start.
Around 11:40pm, I hopped in the car and went to the local Shoppers Drug Mart, which was staying open until 1am Friday night for the release of the new Harry Potter book. Combining the speculation about selling out with the fact that I would be solo this weekend, I decided to grab it at release along with the strange people who decide to buy their books at SDM. The people there? Well, let's just say more than one was begging me to open a can of whoop-ass and distribute it among his friends. (Sorry people, but when it's midnight and I'm listening to three men, easily in their mid-20s, competing in line to see who can read the first chapter before checking out, I get a little testy.)Saturday morning the munchkin and MTM left for the cottage around 8am. I spent the remainder of the day (seriously) reading the book. I took breaks, of course, but predominantly my Saturday was spent lounging and reading. I had planned on reading it all in one day. However, when I read the same paragraph four times at 1am I gave up and went to bed.
Sunday, after finishing the book, I mowed the lawn, did a few errands, and came home, where I once again goofed on my PSP.
Jeez, weekends without my kid are pretty lame.
I Believe...
With thanks to mama tulip for this idea, which I took from this post.
Here's a little gratuitous video of the munchkin dancing last night to a trailer on the Curious George DVD (one of the many Land Before Time videos):
There's a new Daditorial up, where I take a look at child safety.
- that being a parent is a responsibility many people with children weren't ready for
- that whoever created some of those Treehouse shows will get what's coming to them, someday
- that sometimes, retribution is the only way people will learn
- that you have to earn what you get
- that George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry are visionaries
- that you don't have to "grow up"
- that everyone has a right to their opinion
- that focussed anger can be a powerful tool
- that my family is my greatest joy, and my greatest responsibility
- that there's nothing wrong with zoning out in front of the tv sometimes
- that Rocky V never happened
- that everyone deserves some degree of respect
- that one can spare the rod and not spoil the child
- that music can help with any problem, at least momentarily
- that it's OK that I'm not perfect
- that we are not alone in the universe
- that 90% of people seem to exist solely for the purpose of getting in my way
Here's a little gratuitous video of the munchkin dancing last night to a trailer on the Curious George DVD (one of the many Land Before Time videos):
There's a new Daditorial up, where I take a look at child safety.
TBS: Throwback Thursday #1
I'm going to try out something new today, and depending on the feedback, it will either flourish or be banished to the scrap heap of lousy ideas. Please let me know what you think.
Some of the newer readers to this blog likely do not know that this isn't my first blog, and that February 2007 was not the first time I started posting. In fact, Tales From The Dad Side is my fourth blog. The first was a pregnancy blog we started for family; it lasted until MTM posted scans of the ultrasound, when we just lost interest. The second was a personal blog on a different (less anonymous) platform, and had a whopping three posts. Again, I lost interest. The third was a parenting blog that ran for seven or eight months, and was the precursor to this one (most of you who "know" me - this is the one you're thinking of).
Those of you with feed readers probably already noticed (edit: maybe not... can anyone with feed readers please let me know if they see more than one post from today?) that there's more than one post today. The other three are the lone posts from my personal blog that lost steam rather quickly. In an effort to consolidate all my writing, I have sanitized these posts of all personal information (I was a much less cautious blogger back then) and reposted them here with the appropriate timestamp.
If you're interested in reading what life was like at casa de MTM/SFD back in late 2005, you can go here (listed sequentially):
An Update...
"Happy Holidays"
She Crawls!
Some of the newer readers to this blog likely do not know that this isn't my first blog, and that February 2007 was not the first time I started posting. In fact, Tales From The Dad Side is my fourth blog. The first was a pregnancy blog we started for family; it lasted until MTM posted scans of the ultrasound, when we just lost interest. The second was a personal blog on a different (less anonymous) platform, and had a whopping three posts. Again, I lost interest. The third was a parenting blog that ran for seven or eight months, and was the precursor to this one (most of you who "know" me - this is the one you're thinking of).
Those of you with feed readers probably already noticed (edit: maybe not... can anyone with feed readers please let me know if they see more than one post from today?) that there's more than one post today. The other three are the lone posts from my personal blog that lost steam rather quickly. In an effort to consolidate all my writing, I have sanitized these posts of all personal information (I was a much less cautious blogger back then) and reposted them here with the appropriate timestamp.
If you're interested in reading what life was like at casa de MTM/SFD back in late 2005, you can go here (listed sequentially):
An Update...
"Happy Holidays"
She Crawls!
TWS: Suprise Party Planning
The year the munchkin was born, I decided to throw MTM a surprise party for her birthday. I wanted to do something special for her, and I had never had a "friend" birthday party for her, so this seemed like a good idea.
At least, it seemed that way until the planning started. You would think that planning a surprise party for someone you are married to would be difficult (you know, finding time and all) but that wasn't a problem. No, MTM was the least of my worries.
My first hurdle was the fact that her actual birthday was a Saturday. Now, normally this would make the party perfect (since it is on the actual day), but when you add my MIL into the mix, not so much. You see, for every.single.birthday (according to her - I would later learn that during university this didn't happen) my MIL made MTM a special dinner on.her.birthday. So, if I was going to usurp her position for that year, it was going to take some negotiating. Eventually my MIL agreed to a Sunday dinner (the day after) and we were set.
The day after I booked the community centre (there was no way I was going to plan a party for that many people - over 30 - in my house) I emailed my FIL to let them know the location. Then, it started: "You know, after her bridal shower, MTM said she never wanted another surprise party." I knew this, and I had spoken with MTM about this at length before making the final decision. I knew that she hated the shouting of "SURPRISE" when entering a room, and that if she had been given a "heads up" before entering the room, everything would be OK. I explained this to my FIL and it seemed like everything was OK.
Then, after a weekend at the cottage where all three of them (FIL, MIL, SIL) cornered me at various points to discuss their "concerns" with the surprise party, I sent out a firm and clear email explaining what I was doing, why I was doing it, and that I had hypothetically talked it over with MTM and she was OK with it. (To this day I'll never understand how she didn't know something was up during that talk.)
As I am composing the guest list, I ask my FIL whether or not I should include some local family (his brother, wife, and their kids) which he declines. Then, after the invitation has gone out (via email), he emails me to add a friend of my MIL to the guest list.
A few weeks before the party, I get another email. Apparently, my MIL was asking MTM when she wanted her birthday dinner - because, duh, on her birthday was too obvious - and learned that (shockingly) MTM wanted it on the day. This precipitated another round of "should this be a surprise?"
Two weeks before the party, my mother calls me and announces that she and my father are coming to the party. Now, normally this would be a cause for celebration and merriment. However, realizing that my mother's health is what it is, the fact that she has oxygen tanks with her all the time, and that she had yet to see our house (we moved in two years prior) and would want a tour, it made things complicated. Now, I would have to ditch the party early to take my parents back to my place for a quick tour.
Nine days before the party, my SIL (who was the one to get MTM to the party) changes the cover story to something that, if I went along with it, would have tipped MTM off that something was up (she wanted me to suggest going to a craft show. A craft show, people!) I smooth things over.
The week before the party, my FIL offers to get balloons (which I learn later meant he would pick them up and ask me to reimburse him for), so I tell him the colour scheme (teal, fuschia, yellow) and send him off. My MIL went with him, and couldn't get "teal". Through several emails with colour samples, I learn that the colour I wanted was turquoise, not teal. (Because, you know, the name of the colour of the balloons should be my top priority at this stage.)
The day before the party, I took a vacation day. After hiding out at the office for a bit, I did groceries and took over my sister's apartment for the afternoon making all the food for the party. (I won't bore you with the menu; it was stuff like finger foods, fresh veggies, home made dips, et cetera.) That night I came home and (as arranged) a coworker called and said I was needed to work on Saturday (a very rare occurrance, and the point where MTM began to suspect something).
On Saturday morning, my sister and I set up the community centre. My in-laws arrived a little later with balloons and assistance with the decorating. My sister learned (far more quickly than me, I might add) to just follow my MIL instead of trying to work with her.
Meanwhile, MTM and my SIL were at the mall with the munchkin. While having lunch at the foodcourt, mybrilliant SIL left her hot chocolate at the edge of the table. Near the munchkin. Fortunately, it wasn't hot anymore, but it was still chocolate, and now it was all.over.the.munchkin. Head to toe, in her stroller (of course), in her hair, everywhere. MTM had put her in an outfit whose "under layer" would remain under the party dress she had for her parents' house that night. Not anymore!
A bit early (but not too early), my SIL called me and gave me the heads up that they were en route. I got everyone inside and waited for the next call. When it came, I walked outside to the lot and found MTM getting the munchkin ready for what she thought was a craft show (in the end it worked, just not how my SIL had painted it to MTM). I told her what was going on, and everything was fine. At least until she walked in and saw my mother there. MTM lost it at that point and cried.
I left early to show off my first house to my parents. By the time I returned, everyone had left and clean-up had begun. In the end, MTM was happy with the party, so that's all that matters.
At least, it seemed that way until the planning started. You would think that planning a surprise party for someone you are married to would be difficult (you know, finding time and all) but that wasn't a problem. No, MTM was the least of my worries.
My first hurdle was the fact that her actual birthday was a Saturday. Now, normally this would make the party perfect (since it is on the actual day), but when you add my MIL into the mix, not so much. You see, for every.single.birthday (according to her - I would later learn that during university this didn't happen) my MIL made MTM a special dinner on.her.birthday. So, if I was going to usurp her position for that year, it was going to take some negotiating. Eventually my MIL agreed to a Sunday dinner (the day after) and we were set.
The day after I booked the community centre (there was no way I was going to plan a party for that many people - over 30 - in my house) I emailed my FIL to let them know the location. Then, it started: "You know, after her bridal shower, MTM said she never wanted another surprise party." I knew this, and I had spoken with MTM about this at length before making the final decision. I knew that she hated the shouting of "SURPRISE" when entering a room, and that if she had been given a "heads up" before entering the room, everything would be OK. I explained this to my FIL and it seemed like everything was OK.Then, after a weekend at the cottage where all three of them (FIL, MIL, SIL) cornered me at various points to discuss their "concerns" with the surprise party, I sent out a firm and clear email explaining what I was doing, why I was doing it, and that I had hypothetically talked it over with MTM and she was OK with it. (To this day I'll never understand how she didn't know something was up during that talk.)
As I am composing the guest list, I ask my FIL whether or not I should include some local family (his brother, wife, and their kids) which he declines. Then, after the invitation has gone out (via email), he emails me to add a friend of my MIL to the guest list.
A few weeks before the party, I get another email. Apparently, my MIL was asking MTM when she wanted her birthday dinner - because, duh, on her birthday was too obvious - and learned that (shockingly) MTM wanted it on the day. This precipitated another round of "should this be a surprise?"
Two weeks before the party, my mother calls me and announces that she and my father are coming to the party. Now, normally this would be a cause for celebration and merriment. However, realizing that my mother's health is what it is, the fact that she has oxygen tanks with her all the time, and that she had yet to see our house (we moved in two years prior) and would want a tour, it made things complicated. Now, I would have to ditch the party early to take my parents back to my place for a quick tour.
Nine days before the party, my SIL (who was the one to get MTM to the party) changes the cover story to something that, if I went along with it, would have tipped MTM off that something was up (she wanted me to suggest going to a craft show. A craft show, people!) I smooth things over.
The week before the party, my FIL offers to get balloons (which I learn later meant he would pick them up and ask me to reimburse him for), so I tell him the colour scheme (teal, fuschia, yellow) and send him off. My MIL went with him, and couldn't get "teal". Through several emails with colour samples, I learn that the colour I wanted was turquoise, not teal. (Because, you know, the name of the colour of the balloons should be my top priority at this stage.)
The day before the party, I took a vacation day. After hiding out at the office for a bit, I did groceries and took over my sister's apartment for the afternoon making all the food for the party. (I won't bore you with the menu; it was stuff like finger foods, fresh veggies, home made dips, et cetera.) That night I came home and (as arranged) a coworker called and said I was needed to work on Saturday (a very rare occurrance, and the point where MTM began to suspect something).
On Saturday morning, my sister and I set up the community centre. My in-laws arrived a little later with balloons and assistance with the decorating. My sister learned (far more quickly than me, I might add) to just follow my MIL instead of trying to work with her.
Meanwhile, MTM and my SIL were at the mall with the munchkin. While having lunch at the foodcourt, my
A bit early (but not too early), my SIL called me and gave me the heads up that they were en route. I got everyone inside and waited for the next call. When it came, I walked outside to the lot and found MTM getting the munchkin ready for what she thought was a craft show (in the end it worked, just not how my SIL had painted it to MTM). I told her what was going on, and everything was fine. At least until she walked in and saw my mother there. MTM lost it at that point and cried.
I left early to show off my first house to my parents. By the time I returned, everyone had left and clean-up had begun. In the end, MTM was happy with the party, so that's all that matters.
TNS: Legally A Parent
Last week, The Supreme Court of Canada dismissed an application for leave to appeal from a woman seeking to absolve her common-law partner of all parental responsibilities. According to the article, the couple had a pre-parental agreement that the woman (who wanted children) would have a child through artificial insemination (with a stranger's sperm) while the common-law husband (who did not want children) would not be the child's father. The nation's top court, by refusing to allow an appeal, upheld the decision of the Alberta courts to reject the legality of the agreement.
In the Alberta Court of Appeal decision, Justice Ronald Berger wrote:
The situation is complex, and does not have the scope of only common-law heterosexual couples. Using the above quote as a guide, anyone who cohabits with a parent subsequently becomes a defacto parent in the eyes of the law. With only this case in the legal system as reference, there are many gaps in the decision that need clarification.
If the cohabiting partner is legally a parent, can they seek custody in the event of separation? Does the child have the right to financial support if the relationship dissolves? Is the cohabiting partner responsible for the actions of the child in the same way the biological parent is?
While I understand the rationale of the decision, I cannot agree with it. Effectively, this states that any individual with children in their home becomes a parent, assuming a romantic/common-law relationship exists with the biological parent. Does this mean that (in an admittedly far-fetched but still possible scenario) if a husband sleeps with the live-in nanny on a regular basis that she legally becomes another mother to the child?
I wonder how many single mothers, now that their partners are parents in the eyes of the courts, will reconsider their relationship. I wonder how many men will end their common-law relationships with single moms with this new circumstance. The number certainly will be more than "none", which means that while the Canadian courts made this decision with the intent of strengthening families, they in fact are breaking them apart.
The Brief Side
First up, an article about how the Ontario government is funding a camp for autistic children to help maintain the things they learn while in school.
In a bizarre story that, even after reading, makes little sense, a homeless man slashed an infant and then calmly handed the child back to its mother. Apparently he was in her apartment and got offended by her or one of her guests.
Here is some advice about building positive self-esteem in your child.
An interesting question: how old is too old to be a parent? A couple in their 80s is trying to adopt their grandson without success in Pennsylvania.
Here's one for my wife, who loves this show: Supernanny Jo Frost says, "be a parent who parents". I'm not even going to make a joke here.
Finally, here's a letter to the editor from Australia regarding an article about the relationship between a child and their donor father. (Note that this is unrelated to the feature story from this week.)
There's a new Daditorial up as well, where I take a look at the SNAP (Stop Now and Plan) program.
In the Alberta Court of Appeal decision, Justice Ronald Berger wrote:
Can it be seriously contended that he will ignore the child when it cries? When it needs to be fed? When it stumbles? When the soother needs to be replaced? When the diaper needs to be changed?
The situation is complex, and does not have the scope of only common-law heterosexual couples. Using the above quote as a guide, anyone who cohabits with a parent subsequently becomes a defacto parent in the eyes of the law. With only this case in the legal system as reference, there are many gaps in the decision that need clarification.
If the cohabiting partner is legally a parent, can they seek custody in the event of separation? Does the child have the right to financial support if the relationship dissolves? Is the cohabiting partner responsible for the actions of the child in the same way the biological parent is?
While I understand the rationale of the decision, I cannot agree with it. Effectively, this states that any individual with children in their home becomes a parent, assuming a romantic/common-law relationship exists with the biological parent. Does this mean that (in an admittedly far-fetched but still possible scenario) if a husband sleeps with the live-in nanny on a regular basis that she legally becomes another mother to the child?
I wonder how many single mothers, now that their partners are parents in the eyes of the courts, will reconsider their relationship. I wonder how many men will end their common-law relationships with single moms with this new circumstance. The number certainly will be more than "none", which means that while the Canadian courts made this decision with the intent of strengthening families, they in fact are breaking them apart.
The Brief Side
First up, an article about how the Ontario government is funding a camp for autistic children to help maintain the things they learn while in school.
In a bizarre story that, even after reading, makes little sense, a homeless man slashed an infant and then calmly handed the child back to its mother. Apparently he was in her apartment and got offended by her or one of her guests.
Here is some advice about building positive self-esteem in your child.
An interesting question: how old is too old to be a parent? A couple in their 80s is trying to adopt their grandson without success in Pennsylvania.
Here's one for my wife, who loves this show: Supernanny Jo Frost says, "be a parent who parents". I'm not even going to make a joke here.
Finally, here's a letter to the editor from Australia regarding an article about the relationship between a child and their donor father. (Note that this is unrelated to the feature story from this week.)
There's a new Daditorial up as well, where I take a look at the SNAP (Stop Now and Plan) program.
TRS: No Sleep Till...
This weekend we decided to visit my parents because my father's trip (originally scheduled for this weekend) was postponed because my sisters couldn't keep their noses out of stuff that doesn't involve them got involved in the scheduling. He's now coming in August.
On Friday morning I worked from home so we could leave immediately after lunch and capitalize on the munchkin's usual nap time, making the four hour drive somewhat more tolerable. She slept for all of 40 minutes (she's usually good for close to two hours). What's MTM to do with a punch-drunk toddler in the back seat of a van for that long? Play hide and seek, of course! How does one play hide and seek with someone who is strapped snugly into her carseat? See the above image.
We left our place at 12:10pm. We arrived at 4:20pm. Why is this significant? Trust me, you'll see.
Friday evening was pretty typical for a visit to my parents' place. We arrived, and no sooner had she set eyes on my father did she say, "I'm hungry. Can I please have a cookie?" Here we go. Visits to my parents' place are marked by two things: an overabundance of television (when we're there she calls it her "programs" because that's what my father calls it... at home she calls it "Treehouse"... admittedly, the language variation based on location and/or company is fascinating, but she still watches too damn much tv there).
When MTM finally decided it was time for bed (after keeping the munchkin up past her usual bedtime), the munchkin was eerily agreeable. As it turned out, this was a ruse. MTM wound up getting her to sleep in our queen bed (instead of the toddler airbed on the floor) after vowing that she would not bring her into our bed for fear of forming a habit for next week (when she and the munchkin are doing a Mommy and me trip up to the cottage).
Saturday morning saw us sleep in because my father (blessed be his name) got up with the munchkin at 7am. We finally got up and showered in time to be blocked in the driveway by one of my mother's homecare providers. I took this as a sign and seized the opportunity to have a discussion with the individual. Incredibly, despite two incidents in the last month, my mother's chart still did not reflect the fact that a) she is on consciousness-altering heavy grade narcotics for pain, and thus should not be injecting syringes into her own central line at the instruction of a nurse over the phone. Apparently, it takes someone not in the health care field to realize that providing phone care is insufficient in this case!
After scaring the bejeezus out of the little nurse boy making my point, we left for the mall to do a bunch of errands for my mother in an effort to give my father and sister a break. We (MTM) chose an outfit for her (and amazingly, it fit and met all her requirements). (How many women out there go clothing shopping for their mother-in-law?) While MTM shopped, the munchkin and I found (and purchased) a pink Detroit Lions hat for her. I was so excited to get it for her, and, being a girl, she was excited to get a new hat.
We had an interesting experience in a parking lot that morning. It seems when I parked the van I inadvertently locked the wheel. So, when we returned to the van (already late for lunch with a toddler who was making that point abundantly clear), the key would not turn. I used as much force as I was comfortable using, both on the wheel and the key without success. We eventually called our dealer (their number was on a keychain) and I was told to "crank the wheel", which I did, and everything was fine. But, for a few minutes there it was kind of weird. I even checked to make sure we didn't get into the wrong vehicle!
The munchkin struggled mightily against a nap that afternoon, eventually leading to having a nap in between MTM and myself. She fell asleep wedged into my torso with her little fingers clutching my goatee. Aww. Except, not so much. She's got quite the grip. Actual nap time: one hour.
After dinner we decided to let my mother take the munchkin for ice cream. My mother has been asking to do this for a year now, and Saturday her health was better than usual, and generally good enough for a trip in the car to a local ice cream place. Since there were no seats, my mother sat in the car and the munchkin was in her stroller as they enjoyed their frozen treats (we all got some too). It was nice for my mom to be out of the house for a bit, and to share this with the munchkin (although I will freely admit to being afraid that my mother will try and make this a habit, something neither MTM nor I are comfortable with). When we got back, my mom spent some time pushing the munchkin in her swing in the backyard. It was a nice evening for them, and something my mom desperately needed.
That night, MTM tried everything she could to get the munchkin down. Unfortunately, the night ended (two hours later) with the munchkin asleep in our bed again.
Sunday morning we packed up and got on the road at 9:30am, hoping (against all hope) that the munchkin's late night combined with a 6am wake up time meant a long car sleep. Instead, it meant that we were trapped on the road with an overtired toddler on a sleep strike because she was convinced she had to have a bowel movement (she had, on Thursday, finally ended what had been a five-day constipation run, and had not had one since). Subsequently, we stopped:
It was a magical mystery tour of poorly maintained bathrooms, and more stressful than I care to admit, here or to myself.
Finally, after the industrial park, she fell asleep for the remaining 40 minutes of our journey. We arrived home at 4:30pm. A trip that took us four hours on Friday took us seven on Sunday.
She was out of sorts all evening. Overtired and clearly in gastro-intestinal pain, she whined and tantrumed. Mercifully, after a dose of jelly (a children's laxative) and a minute in a warm bath, she went. I don't think I've ever been happier to see crap in a toilet.
On Friday morning I worked from home so we could leave immediately after lunch and capitalize on the munchkin's usual nap time, making the four hour drive somewhat more tolerable. She slept for all of 40 minutes (she's usually good for close to two hours). What's MTM to do with a punch-drunk toddler in the back seat of a van for that long? Play hide and seek, of course! How does one play hide and seek with someone who is strapped snugly into her carseat? See the above image.We left our place at 12:10pm. We arrived at 4:20pm. Why is this significant? Trust me, you'll see.
Friday evening was pretty typical for a visit to my parents' place. We arrived, and no sooner had she set eyes on my father did she say, "I'm hungry. Can I please have a cookie?" Here we go. Visits to my parents' place are marked by two things: an overabundance of television (when we're there she calls it her "programs" because that's what my father calls it... at home she calls it "Treehouse"... admittedly, the language variation based on location and/or company is fascinating, but she still watches too damn much tv there).When MTM finally decided it was time for bed (after keeping the munchkin up past her usual bedtime), the munchkin was eerily agreeable. As it turned out, this was a ruse. MTM wound up getting her to sleep in our queen bed (instead of the toddler airbed on the floor) after vowing that she would not bring her into our bed for fear of forming a habit for next week (when she and the munchkin are doing a Mommy and me trip up to the cottage).
Saturday morning saw us sleep in because my father (blessed be his name) got up with the munchkin at 7am. We finally got up and showered in time to be blocked in the driveway by one of my mother's homecare providers. I took this as a sign and seized the opportunity to have a discussion with the individual. Incredibly, despite two incidents in the last month, my mother's chart still did not reflect the fact that a) she is on consciousness-altering heavy grade narcotics for pain, and thus should not be injecting syringes into her own central line at the instruction of a nurse over the phone. Apparently, it takes someone not in the health care field to realize that providing phone care is insufficient in this case!After We had an interesting experience in a parking lot that morning. It seems when I parked the van I inadvertently locked the wheel. So, when we returned to the van (already late for lunch with a toddler who was making that point abundantly clear), the key would not turn. I used as much force as I was comfortable using, both on the wheel and the key without success. We eventually called our dealer (their number was on a keychain) and I was told to "crank the wheel", which I did, and everything was fine. But, for a few minutes there it was kind of weird. I even checked to make sure we didn't get into the wrong vehicle!
The munchkin struggled mightily against a nap that afternoon, eventually leading to having a nap in between MTM and myself. She fell asleep wedged into my torso with her little fingers clutching my goatee. Aww. Except, not so much. She's got quite the grip. Actual nap time: one hour.After dinner we decided to let my mother take the munchkin for ice cream. My mother has been asking to do this for a year now, and Saturday her health was better than usual, and generally good enough for a trip in the car to a local ice cream place. Since there were no seats, my mother sat in the car and the munchkin was in her stroller as they enjoyed their frozen treats (we all got some too). It was nice for my mom to be out of the house for a bit, and to share this with the munchkin (although I will freely admit to being afraid that my mother will try and make this a habit, something neither MTM nor I are comfortable with). When we got back, my mom spent some time pushing the munchkin in her swing in the backyard. It was a nice evening for them, and something my mom desperately needed.
That night, MTM tried everything she could to get the munchkin down. Unfortunately, the night ended (two hours later) with the munchkin asleep in our bed again.Sunday morning we packed up and got on the road at 9:30am, hoping (against all hope) that the munchkin's late night combined with a 6am wake up time meant a long car sleep. Instead, it meant that we were trapped on the road with an overtired toddler on a sleep strike because she was convinced she had to have a bowel movement (she had, on Thursday, finally ended what had been a five-day constipation run, and had not had one since). Subsequently, we stopped:
- at the Tim Horton's on the way out of town
- at the first rest station, about 40km into our journey
- at the next rest station, another 80km away (where we also had lunch)
- at the next rest station, another 80km away
- at the next rest station, 60km away (where we tried using our in-car potty hoping it would encourage her)
- in an industrial park off the highway (following a panic-inducing screaming session that included a pathetically plaintive, "I'm having an accident. No! No! I'm having an accident!")
It was a magical mystery tour of poorly maintained bathrooms, and more stressful than I care to admit, here or to myself.Finally, after the industrial park, she fell asleep for the remaining 40 minutes of our journey. We arrived home at 4:30pm. A trip that took us four hours on Friday took us seven on Sunday.
She was out of sorts all evening. Overtired and clearly in gastro-intestinal pain, she whined and tantrumed. Mercifully, after a dose of jelly (a children's laxative) and a minute in a warm bath, she went. I don't think I've ever been happier to see crap in a toilet.
TDS: Salsa Tots!
It's Friday, so we're all going to take a bit of break here. Is that OK with you? If it is, great: sit back and enjoy. If it isn't, well, you aren't paying for this, so quit yer bitchin'.
Today I will share with you the fruits of the labour of MTM and the munchkin. For weeks they took a salsa class called Salsa Tots, where they learned a series of songs with actions and dance steps. They bought the CD, and it is now in very heavy rotation in our living room (and upstairs, and in the van, and at my parents...)
In the first video, it's a little difficult to hear the CD music because the munchkin has decided to accompany the artists with her recorder and flapper. Of note is the unclosed onsie: perhaps the beginnings of that teenager trend of wearing pants with crotches down to the knees?
The second video is a much better example. Take note of the matching ensemble, as well as the "shake your hips" manoeuver (my personal favourite).
Have a good weekend, everyone!
For those whose interests are in areas other than dancing toddlers (and really, who isn't interested in dancing toddlers?) there's a new Daditorial up, where I look at the youngest convicted murderer in Canadian history.
Today I will share with you the fruits of the labour of MTM and the munchkin. For weeks they took a salsa class called Salsa Tots, where they learned a series of songs with actions and dance steps. They bought the CD, and it is now in very heavy rotation in our living room (and upstairs, and in the van, and at my parents...)
In the first video, it's a little difficult to hear the CD music because the munchkin has decided to accompany the artists with her recorder and flapper. Of note is the unclosed onsie: perhaps the beginnings of that teenager trend of wearing pants with crotches down to the knees?
The second video is a much better example. Take note of the matching ensemble, as well as the "shake your hips" manoeuver (my personal favourite).
Have a good weekend, everyone!
For those whose interests are in areas other than dancing toddlers (and really, who isn't interested in dancing toddlers?) there's a new Daditorial up, where I look at the youngest convicted murderer in Canadian history.
TDS: Munchkin Art
As I sat in my office this morning, I was totally stumped as to what to share with you today. Then, I looked around, and I got inspired. You see, the munchkin makes me things while I am at work. Sometimes it's done with glue, sometimes with markers or crayons. But I often have little tokens of affection that she makes for me when I come into the office. Below is a sample of my collection.
This is the oldest craft I have at my office. MTM actually made it for me (for Halloween, obviously). She traced the munchkin's hand and made it into a ghost.
Ironically, I have little else in the way of crafts until the following Halloween (this is from 2006). She was very into glue and foam shapes at the time.
This is my birthday card from this year. MTM did the hand print part, but everything else is 100% munchkin. (That's why when you read the three boxes, it says "Happy Daddy Birthday".)
This is the interior of my Father's Day card from this year. Note that the object on the left, according to the munchkin, is a walrus.
This is a picture frame she decorated for me.
Finally, this is a "painting" she made for me. (In case you can't tell, it's one of those paint with water things; no, she isn't a prodigy.)
TWS: Ränt Redüx
Remember on Monday when I told you about my Saturday morning, and how we had an errand to run? Remember how I told you it was best left for a Wednesday? Also, remember how at the end of May, we went to Ikea to buy world-changing green shelves (and of course, matching table and chairs, since, you know, we were there and everything)? All caught up now? Good.
On Tuesday (of last week) I suggested that we could hit a large mall that coming weekend because I wanted to grab some headphones that I found there (and weren't at the chain's local store). Plus, I knew MTM likes to shop there, so I figured it would be a win-win.
On Wednesday, MTM said to me, "Maybe while we're out that way, we could go to Ikea."
Did I mention this mall has the unfortunate reality of being near an Ikea? Oops.
"That table and chair aren't going to work. The chair's a different shade of green, and the table is too low."
OK. Seems reasonable.
On Thursday, MTM said to me, "Maybe we'll return the shelves too."
What? The shelves too? The shelves that I awkwardly carted through the self-serve area, twice (so we could, you know, confirm that the two we already had were actually being discontinued)? The shelves I hauled out to the van and reconfigured the seats to accommodate (while not endangering the life of our munchkin)? The shelves that I then navigated through the mess of crap in our garage (including, but not limited to, the desk you so adored and now cannot fit in our basement) and placed on blocks to avoid water damage? Those shelves?
"Yep."
On Friday, after our adventures at the local mall, when my bad ankle was good and swollen (and also weakened), we reloaded them back into the van. (And when I say "we", I mean I carried them while MTM stood nearby gasping every time I came within a yard of anything.) In the process, I tripped over the hose and twisted my bad ankle.
On Saturday, we pulled in just as Ikea was opening. I unloaded the van to a cart, took the receipt, and went inside alone while MTM parked. I took my number, and by the time it was called, MTM and the munchkin had joined me. As I approached the counter, I said to MTM, "Why don't you go grab a cart? I'll meet up with you."
When I reached the counter, the woman asked, "Reason for the return?"
"My wife is insane and decided these weren't 'the right green'."
"You shouldn't say that in front of her."
"Why do you think I sent her to get a cart?"
In the end, she took it all back, and put everything back on my VISA (some of it had been paid with a gift card, from a previous return - no seriously) which was nice.
Then, we left with more furniture (sadly, I am not kidding).
On Tuesday (of last week) I suggested that we could hit a large mall that coming weekend because I wanted to grab some headphones that I found there (and weren't at the chain's local store). Plus, I knew MTM likes to shop there, so I figured it would be a win-win.
On Wednesday, MTM said to me, "Maybe while we're out that way, we could go to Ikea."
Did I mention this mall has the unfortunate reality of being near an Ikea? Oops.
"That table and chair aren't going to work. The chair's a different shade of green, and the table is too low."
OK. Seems reasonable.
On Thursday, MTM said to me, "Maybe we'll return the shelves too."
What? The shelves too? The shelves that I awkwardly carted through the self-serve area, twice (so we could, you know, confirm that the two we already had were actually being discontinued)? The shelves I hauled out to the van and reconfigured the seats to accommodate (while not endangering the life of our munchkin)? The shelves that I then navigated through the mess of crap in our garage (including, but not limited to, the desk you so adored and now cannot fit in our basement) and placed on blocks to avoid water damage? Those shelves?
"Yep."
On Friday, after our adventures at the local mall, when my bad ankle was good and swollen (and also weakened), we reloaded them back into the van. (And when I say "we", I mean I carried them while MTM stood nearby gasping every time I came within a yard of anything.) In the process, I tripped over the hose and twisted my bad ankle.
On Saturday, we pulled in just as Ikea was opening. I unloaded the van to a cart, took the receipt, and went inside alone while MTM parked. I took my number, and by the time it was called, MTM and the munchkin had joined me. As I approached the counter, I said to MTM, "Why don't you go grab a cart? I'll meet up with you."
When I reached the counter, the woman asked, "Reason for the return?"
"My wife is insane and decided these weren't 'the right green'."
"You shouldn't say that in front of her."
"Why do you think I sent her to get a cart?"
In the end, she took it all back, and put everything back on my VISA (some of it had been paid with a gift card, from a previous return - no seriously) which was nice.
Then, we left with more furniture (sadly, I am not kidding).
TNS: Is A Vegan Diet Bad Parenting?
In Florida, a custody fight has brought the following question to the foreground: is raising children on a vegan diet an acceptable practice? The mother of the quintuplets in question has been raising them strictly on foods from plants, and the father is arguing that this is akin to child endangerment, or even abuse.
According to medical experts quoted in the article, strict veganism on its own does not provide some nutrients necessary for early childhood development. However, an informed parent or caregiver can overcome this limitation with the use of supplements. There is conflicting research about some nutrient sources, such as those vegans use for protein (some are saying that soy products aren't what we think them to be), although at this point nothing is conclusive either way.
Personally, I am probably the farthest thing from a vegan. If a dinner does not include a meat of some sort, I feel as if something is "missing". And in truth, if someone were to tell me that feeding my daughter a hamburger was cruel (to her, not the cow), I would laugh them off. But that is what is happening here.
Things can get very ugly in custody battles. Couples that are divorcing are often out to get the best of their soon-to-be-former spouse, and this case is no different. The father needs to stop focusing on his wife's diet, and start focusing on how he can prove that the life he offers his children is better than the one his wife can provide. That is the issue here, not what the kids will have for dinner.
The Brief Side
In North Carolina, a woman's family is looking to establish a fetal homicide law that would punish killers of pregnant women with two murders instead of one.
In a follow-up to an earlier post, I offer a guide to being a better sports parent.
From the "I wish I was making this up" files, a man stands accused of biting a 3 year old on the lip and ear. What is more disturbing is that this wasn't a fit of rage, but rather a pattern of abuse that lasted over three months.
Some new research has found that boys and girls learn differently.
Here's an interesting and somewhat light-hearted look at the latest mothering craze: the beta mom, for whom "good enough" actually is good enough.
Finally, some advice for all married couples: sharing housework=good marriage. (Thank goodness I put my pop can in the recycling last night. Now I know I'm doing my part for our marriage.)
I've got another Daditorial up, where I look at a missing girl who has called her parents to tell them she is not ready to come home.
According to medical experts quoted in the article, strict veganism on its own does not provide some nutrients necessary for early childhood development. However, an informed parent or caregiver can overcome this limitation with the use of supplements. There is conflicting research about some nutrient sources, such as those vegans use for protein (some are saying that soy products aren't what we think them to be), although at this point nothing is conclusive either way.
Personally, I am probably the farthest thing from a vegan. If a dinner does not include a meat of some sort, I feel as if something is "missing". And in truth, if someone were to tell me that feeding my daughter a hamburger was cruel (to her, not the cow), I would laugh them off. But that is what is happening here.
Things can get very ugly in custody battles. Couples that are divorcing are often out to get the best of their soon-to-be-former spouse, and this case is no different. The father needs to stop focusing on his wife's diet, and start focusing on how he can prove that the life he offers his children is better than the one his wife can provide. That is the issue here, not what the kids will have for dinner.
The Brief Side
In North Carolina, a woman's family is looking to establish a fetal homicide law that would punish killers of pregnant women with two murders instead of one.
In a follow-up to an earlier post, I offer a guide to being a better sports parent.
From the "I wish I was making this up" files, a man stands accused of biting a 3 year old on the lip and ear. What is more disturbing is that this wasn't a fit of rage, but rather a pattern of abuse that lasted over three months.
Some new research has found that boys and girls learn differently.
Here's an interesting and somewhat light-hearted look at the latest mothering craze: the beta mom, for whom "good enough" actually is good enough.
Finally, some advice for all married couples: sharing housework=good marriage. (Thank goodness I put my pop can in the recycling last night. Now I know I'm doing my part for our marriage.)
I've got another Daditorial up, where I look at a missing girl who has called her parents to tell them she is not ready to come home.
TRS: Bamboozled
On Friday afternoon, we packed up the munchkin and started what would be a two-day hunt for the perfect diaper bag. We went to the local mall first, since it was possible the thing could have been right under our noses the whole time. While we were there, we had some dinner (MTM got out of her comfort zone with Moroccan chicken. Me? Burger and fries.) and were fortunate enough to have an awesome server who treated the munchkin so well, and even took a high five from her after she had eaten (and we all know how toddler hands can get).
After dinner, we continued our search. Unfortunately, this took us well past the munchkin's bedtime, and trying to navigate a bag store with a stroller? That contains an overtired toddler? Not.gonna.happen. So, we employed the age-old parenting technique: divide and conquer. Despite my insistence that I was capable of choosing a nice bag for my wife, she declined I was stuck with assigned the toddler. What's a Daddy to do? "Wanna go to Toys R Us?"
We entered and tried to remain somewhat amiable in the stroller. That did not last long. Eventually, we were hip deep in bathtub friendly Backyardigans (see photo). When it became evident that she was bent on pulling down the rack they were on, we left and wererescued found by MTM at the Fisher-Price CD demo unit.
After such a late night, we weren't sure what to expect from the munchkin on Saturday morning. She awoke at her usual time (4-ish) and came to bed with us, where she slept until 7:00am! Now, I realize that this is insanely early for a lot of people, but for the munchkin this is a full 90 minutes past her usual initialization routine (30 minutes of "Mommy, we have to go downstairs now. Mommy, I need apple juice. Mommy, I'm FIRSTY!") so we were tickled pink.
We packed ourselves up and grabbed somefood of the gods breakfast sandwiches from Timmy's and went to the local mall so MTM could run in and grab a bag that went on sale that morning. Meanwhile, the munchkin and I ate breakfast together, in the van. She was so proud of herself, sitting in the front seat, putting her milk in the cup holder. We had a nice chat about various things (mostly confirming the facts that a) Mommy was indeed in Sears and b) she would return shortly) until MTM came back (cough, with more than anticipated, cough) and hit the road again for our next destination.
At this point, we ran an errand. I'm not trying to be mysterious or anything; it's just that this errand it tailor-made for Wednesday, so I will talk about it then. In fact, in the midst of running this errand, MTM actually turned to me and said, "You know, I gotta make sure you have enough stuff to write about on Wednesdays. People like those posts." Consider this my first bamboozlement of the weekend.
After that, we hit a larger mall that was supposed to have a wider selection of bags (not to mention green carts). It was then that I learned the dark secret. Earlier in the week, MTM had been online looking at bags, and found some potential items in the several hundred dollar range (nothing too much, but more than enough to say, "You know, this is for carrying a toilet seat and some crackers...") and asked me if the budget was too high. I said that it was fine, so long as she wasnot going to bitch about the new bag in a few weeks happy. So Friday night she finds a bag that she brings home for $40. The one on sale? You guessed it: $40.
Did I mention this mall had a Lulu Lemon? I didn't? Oh. My bad. You see, my wife, after getting a relatively enormous budget, decided to reallocate it. Instead of an insanely priced bag, she chose a reasonably priced bag and a couple pairs of pants. She's smart, I'll give her that! Let's call that bamboozling #2.
Sunday morning I got to sleep in, but wasted it with semi-insomnia and got up relatively early. I then spent the.entire.morning fighting with my slideshow software because it wouldn't accept my video codecs (none of which had changed since I last used it). It was ugly. The munchkin even said to me at one point, "Daddy, can we please play, but not near the compuder?" In the end, although I did neglect my fatherly duties, I did resolve the issue (at least until the next time I try to do something).
That afternoon, the munchkin slept very late, which normally would be a reason to rejoice, but since we were expecting visitors for dinner the next hour, MTM was in panic mode. In an effort to rid her house of people getting underfoot get things done more quickly, she sent the munchkin and I to get some last-minute items.
On our way to the grocery store, I made a quick turn. From the back seat comes (in a sing-song voice, no less), "Drive carefully, Daddy!" Great. Now I've got two people hollering that, neither of whom have a steering wheel in front of them at the time. And once inside, the munchkin had me follow her as we shopped. I'm sure some people thought she was amazing by being able to "read" the grocery list, although in truth it had 2 items, both of which she had memorized.
Our visitors (a friend of MTM's from high school and her boyfriend) arrived, and we had a wonderful time. They came for dinner (burgers). Dessert was key lime pie. As a joke, we gave the munchkin the lime slices MTM put on the plates to waste for presentation. Who knew she would love them?
The munchkin was a little hesitant at first with the boyfriend (even though we see them at least every few months), but once he was willing to play "sleep" on the living room floor, he was in for good.
So how was your weekend?
After dinner, we continued our search. Unfortunately, this took us well past the munchkin's bedtime, and trying to navigate a bag store with a stroller? That contains an overtired toddler? Not.gonna.happen. So, we employed the age-old parenting technique: divide and conquer. Despite my insistence that I was capable of choosing a nice bag for my wife, she declined I was We entered and tried to remain somewhat amiable in the stroller. That did not last long. Eventually, we were hip deep in bathtub friendly Backyardigans (see photo). When it became evident that she was bent on pulling down the rack they were on, we left and were
After such a late night, we weren't sure what to expect from the munchkin on Saturday morning. She awoke at her usual time (4-ish) and came to bed with us, where she slept until 7:00am! Now, I realize that this is insanely early for a lot of people, but for the munchkin this is a full 90 minutes past her usual initialization routine (30 minutes of "Mommy, we have to go downstairs now. Mommy, I need apple juice. Mommy, I'm FIRSTY!") so we were tickled pink.We packed ourselves up and grabbed some
At this point, we ran an errand. I'm not trying to be mysterious or anything; it's just that this errand it tailor-made for Wednesday, so I will talk about it then. In fact, in the midst of running this errand, MTM actually turned to me and said, "You know, I gotta make sure you have enough stuff to write about on Wednesdays. People like those posts." Consider this my first bamboozlement of the weekend.After that, we hit a larger mall that was supposed to have a wider selection of bags (not to mention green carts). It was then that I learned the dark secret. Earlier in the week, MTM had been online looking at bags, and found some potential items in the several hundred dollar range (nothing too much, but more than enough to say, "You know, this is for carrying a toilet seat and some crackers...") and asked me if the budget was too high. I said that it was fine, so long as she was
Did I mention this mall had a Lulu Lemon? I didn't? Oh. My bad. You see, my wife, after getting a relatively enormous budget, decided to reallocate it. Instead of an insanely priced bag, she chose a reasonably priced bag and a couple pairs of pants. She's smart, I'll give her that! Let's call that bamboozling #2.Sunday morning I got to sleep in, but wasted it with semi-insomnia and got up relatively early. I then spent the.entire.morning fighting with my slideshow software because it wouldn't accept my video codecs (none of which had changed since I last used it). It was ugly. The munchkin even said to me at one point, "Daddy, can we please play, but not near the compuder?" In the end, although I did neglect my fatherly duties, I did resolve the issue (at least until the next time I try to do something).
That afternoon, the munchkin slept very late, which normally would be a reason to rejoice, but since we were expecting visitors for dinner the next hour, MTM was in panic mode. In an effort to On our way to the grocery store, I made a quick turn. From the back seat comes (in a sing-song voice, no less), "Drive carefully, Daddy!" Great. Now I've got two people hollering that, neither of whom have a steering wheel in front of them at the time. And once inside, the munchkin had me follow her as we shopped. I'm sure some people thought she was amazing by being able to "read" the grocery list, although in truth it had 2 items, both of which she had memorized.
Our visitors (a friend of MTM's from high school and her boyfriend) arrived, and we had a wonderful time. They came for dinner (burgers). Dessert was key lime pie. As a joke, we gave the munchkin the lime slices MTM put on the plates The munchkin was a little hesitant at first with the boyfriend (even though we see them at least every few months), but once he was willing to play "sleep" on the living room floor, he was in for good.
So how was your weekend?
TTS: Polling The Audience
(I know, I know... two thinking sides in a row! - Hey that rhymes! - But we have been thinking about this stuff a lot lately, and I thought I'd get your input on the subject.)
A sad but true "dirty little secret" about our wedding: we chose the date based on the following parameters:
Given that configuration, our choices were July 26 or August 23. Since the August date was too close to Labour Day for a decent honeymoon, we went with July 26. My MIL's birthday is July 24. My MIL lives at the cottage all summer. You see where this is going.
Every summer my wife takes a week or so and heads up there (the cottage) without me. It's easier on her since she doesn't have to worry about me getting frustrated, and she enjoys taking the extended time up there that I cannot provide because of a limited vacation schedule.
This year, she decided she would go for my MIL's birthday, and was trying to figure out her dates. Originally, I had said I wanted her and the munchkin to be around on the weekends, and that her being there on our anniversary was OK. However, the more I thought about it, the more being apart from her on our anniversary bugged me. I felt that if there was one day of the year that I should be with her, it's that day. So, we revisited the subject, and she's leaving the weekend before and coming home in time.
My first question to you (my married readers) is this: do you think I'm nuts? Would you ever consider not spending your wedding anniversary with your spouse?
The other thing is this concept of gifts. MTM is easy to buy for: this year she wants a nice bag/purse that is large enough to be a toddler accessory carrying device but not a diaper bag in the traditional sense. We're looking online and will shop for one this weekend as well. So then she asks me: what do you want?
And I'm stumped. In the past, my anniversary gifts have been a new camera that we "gave" each other, or a children's book and action figure (a really cool Jango Fett with sound effects and... but I digress). Admittedly, I'm a hard man to buy for. I live a relatively simple life and have few wants. I tried telling her all I wanted was er, something like this and she rolled her eyes at me. So now I'm stuck. Do I ask her to buy PSP accessories and games? Do I raincheck it to buy myself something later on? My birthday and Father's Day were less than a month ago... what more do I want?
My second question is more for the female readers: what would you give your significant other for an anniversary present?
I would appreciate any advice or comments you have to share on either or both subjects. Thanks in advance for your help!
I'm going to change my approach this time around and strongly encourage you to head over to MBT for this week's Daditorial. We're doing something big over there with BlogHer, called BlogHers Act Canada, and I'd like to hear your thoughts.
A sad but true "dirty little secret" about our wedding: we chose the date based on the following parameters:
- it was a Saturday in July or August (MTM was a teacher)
- MTM's menstrual cycle
Given that configuration, our choices were July 26 or August 23. Since the August date was too close to Labour Day for a decent honeymoon, we went with July 26. My MIL's birthday is July 24. My MIL lives at the cottage all summer. You see where this is going.
Every summer my wife takes a week or so and heads up there (the cottage) without me. It's easier on her since she doesn't have to worry about me getting frustrated, and she enjoys taking the extended time up there that I cannot provide because of a limited vacation schedule.
This year, she decided she would go for my MIL's birthday, and was trying to figure out her dates. Originally, I had said I wanted her and the munchkin to be around on the weekends, and that her being there on our anniversary was OK. However, the more I thought about it, the more being apart from her on our anniversary bugged me. I felt that if there was one day of the year that I should be with her, it's that day. So, we revisited the subject, and she's leaving the weekend before and coming home in time.
My first question to you (my married readers) is this: do you think I'm nuts? Would you ever consider not spending your wedding anniversary with your spouse?
The other thing is this concept of gifts. MTM is easy to buy for: this year she wants a nice bag/purse that is large enough to be a toddler accessory carrying device but not a diaper bag in the traditional sense. We're looking online and will shop for one this weekend as well. So then she asks me: what do you want?
And I'm stumped. In the past, my anniversary gifts have been a new camera that we "gave" each other, or a children's book and action figure (a really cool Jango Fett with sound effects and... but I digress). Admittedly, I'm a hard man to buy for. I live a relatively simple life and have few wants. I tried telling her all I wanted was er, something like this and she rolled her eyes at me. So now I'm stuck. Do I ask her to buy PSP accessories and games? Do I raincheck it to buy myself something later on? My birthday and Father's Day were less than a month ago... what more do I want?
My second question is more for the female readers: what would you give your significant other for an anniversary present?
I would appreciate any advice or comments you have to share on either or both subjects. Thanks in advance for your help!
I'm going to change my approach this time around and strongly encourage you to head over to MBT for this week's Daditorial. We're doing something big over there with BlogHer, called BlogHers Act Canada, and I'd like to hear your thoughts.
TTS: Preparing For The Real World
When my daughter was an infant, I never had to worry about what she was going to say when we were outside the house. I did not need to spell certain words to avoid having a topic come up (or trigger a toddler meltdown). I was unconcerned if 90% of what we fed her remained on her face because she "chewed" by moving her mouth up and down, allowing the food to dribble everywhere.
Now, times are a little different. It seems like whenever we're out at someone else's house or when we have visitors she asks about someone's genitals:
"Daddy, can I see your penith?"
"Does Papa have a penith?"
Logically, I know this is normal curious behaviour associated with a developing sense of the world around her. However, at some point we, as parents, need to explain the sociological tendency to avoid such direct terms, not to mention the private nature of the subject itself. And it's not just about being polite: understanding the privacy of her body is an important building block for her safety.
Because she is so verbal, she understands a lot more than we would like her to. Combine that with the fact that she is an extremely sensitive little girl, and you have a complicated situation. My wife cannot recount the more frustrating parts of their day without every third word being spelled for fear of upsetting my daughter (who abhors disappointing us, and loathes being reminded of it).
As far as eating goes, because she is tall for her age (as well as the above mentioned verbal acumen) she is often mistaken for being older. That means when she chews with her mouth open people frown and look at us like we're bad parents. So, we have started encouraging her to chew with her mouth closed. Now we have the entertainment of watching her try to do it.
It's a difficult realization to come to; that your baby is now your child. It's hard to explain to them why sometimes it's OK to ask Mommy and Daddy questions, while in other situations they need to wait. It makes me sad to know she is losing that license to do whatever she wants. (Even though the list of what she can get away with is still longer than what most people have, it is still eroding.) The real world is a big and scary place. I don't like having to prepare her for it, even in these simple ways.
Now, times are a little different. It seems like whenever we're out at someone else's house or when we have visitors she asks about someone's genitals:"Daddy, can I see your penith?"
"Does Papa have a penith?"
Logically, I know this is normal curious behaviour associated with a developing sense of the world around her. However, at some point we, as parents, need to explain the sociological tendency to avoid such direct terms, not to mention the private nature of the subject itself. And it's not just about being polite: understanding the privacy of her body is an important building block for her safety.
Because she is so verbal, she understands a lot more than we would like her to. Combine that with the fact that she is an extremely sensitive little girl, and you have a complicated situation. My wife cannot recount the more frustrating parts of their day without every third word being spelled for fear of upsetting my daughter (who abhors disappointing us, and loathes being reminded of it).As far as eating goes, because she is tall for her age (as well as the above mentioned verbal acumen) she is often mistaken for being older. That means when she chews with her mouth open people frown and look at us like we're bad parents. So, we have started encouraging her to chew with her mouth closed. Now we have the entertainment of watching her try to do it.
It's a difficult realization to come to; that your baby is now your child. It's hard to explain to them why sometimes it's OK to ask Mommy and Daddy questions, while in other situations they need to wait. It makes me sad to know she is losing that license to do whatever she wants. (Even though the list of what she can get away with is still longer than what most people have, it is still eroding.) The real world is a big and scary place. I don't like having to prepare her for it, even in these simple ways.
TWS: Murphy Warned Us
A couple of nights ago, MTM and I had just finished, uh, trying for another munchkin when it happened.
"Mommy, pee pee!"
With MTM in the, uh, optimal conception position (OCP) and yours truly in the bathroom, we were faced with a dilemma: who was in a better position to attend to the munchkin? After a non-verbal discussion involving frantic glances, we decided it would be me. With that, I quickly put on my gitch and ran to the now-sobbing toddler in the room down the hall.
"I want Mommy cuddles!"
"Mommy is sleeping. Do you have to go pee pee?"
"Mmm hmm."
As I quickly took her to the potty I felt for signs of an accident on her pajama bottoms and noted none. Idropped placed her on the potty and waited. Soon, the familiar sounds of an emptying bladder filled the night-light-lit room. As I reached for her clothes hooked around her ankles, I felt wetness. Confused, and still feeling the, uh, effects of our, uh, activity, I took both items off (pajamas and panties) and carried her back to her room. By this point, the plaintive cries for Mommy have escalated to sobs, and as I tried to negotiate new panties and assess the pajama bottom situation (not to mention the crib) she became more and more upset.
In a slight panic, I grabbed dry panties and the bottoms and took my half-naked toddler back to the bathroom. Unsure of what to do after a pee accident, and not wanting to open the floodgates by communicating with MTM (who was still in the OCP) I wiped her down with a wet wipe and dressed her while she balanced precariously on the bathroom counter. (Why didn't I dress her in her room on her changing table? I don't know; it honestly made sense at the time.)
Once we were back in her room, I tried desperately to convince her that Mommy was indeed asleep and thus unable to tend to her. Then, the combination of a half-asleep munchkin and toddler attention spans gave me a reprieve when a loud firework went off outside on our street. After I explained what the big noise was, she calmly went into her crib and fell fast asleep.
I returned to our room and said, "Thank goodness we have idiot neighbours who light off fireworks after 11pm, otherwise you would have had to explain (to our two year old, no less) why you're lying in bed with a pillow under your ass."
I've got a new Daditorial up where I look at the subject of urban growth in the GTA, and specifically what is going on in Simcoe. There's also some follow-ups to previous stories.
"Mommy, pee pee!"
With MTM in the, uh, optimal conception position (OCP) and yours truly in the bathroom, we were faced with a dilemma: who was in a better position to attend to the munchkin? After a non-verbal discussion involving frantic glances, we decided it would be me. With that, I quickly put on my gitch and ran to the now-sobbing toddler in the room down the hall.
"I want Mommy cuddles!"
"Mommy is sleeping. Do you have to go pee pee?"
"Mmm hmm."
As I quickly took her to the potty I felt for signs of an accident on her pajama bottoms and noted none. I
In a slight panic, I grabbed dry panties and the bottoms and took my half-naked toddler back to the bathroom. Unsure of what to do after a pee accident, and not wanting to open the floodgates by communicating with MTM (who was still in the OCP) I wiped her down with a wet wipe and dressed her while she balanced precariously on the bathroom counter. (Why didn't I dress her in her room on her changing table? I don't know; it honestly made sense at the time.)
Once we were back in her room, I tried desperately to convince her that Mommy was indeed asleep and thus unable to tend to her. Then, the combination of a half-asleep munchkin and toddler attention spans gave me a reprieve when a loud firework went off outside on our street. After I explained what the big noise was, she calmly went into her crib and fell fast asleep.
I returned to our room and said, "Thank goodness we have idiot neighbours who light off fireworks after 11pm, otherwise you would have had to explain (to our two year old, no less) why you're lying in bed with a pillow under your ass."
I've got a new Daditorial up where I look at the subject of urban growth in the GTA, and specifically what is going on in Simcoe. There's also some follow-ups to previous stories.
TRS: Long Weekend In (Mostly) Pictures
I took some additional time off work to extend the Canada Day weekend to four and a half days. We spent the weekend at my in-laws' cottage, which, loosely translated, means that I spent four days with people who sleep at my house every two to three weeks in a house where, according to photographic evidence, my daughter has no father. Added bonus: it was cool, cloudy, and rainy for the majority of it.
My wife absolutely loves the cottage, and the munchkin is learning to appreciate the things my wife loves about it too. In truth, I'm a city boy, so spending a weekend (or longer) in the woods, where my cell has no signal and "the internet" comes through on 24kbps (on the fast days) with people who generally would prefer that their daughter never married me, doesn't exactly get a "Yay! Let's go north!" from me. But, we go for them.
All hope of "avoiding traffic" was squashed about midway through the (normally) three hour trip when someone (who may or may not have been me) wanted to stop for "the really good beef jerky" and we ended up behind this:
That is a police-escorted industrial compressed gas vessel. The convoy speed varied between 20 and 70 km/h (the limit was 80 and everyone does closer to 90-95). To make matters more fun, what would happen is whenever an oncoming vehicle approached the police cars would move into their lane and force them on to the gravel shoulder. The photo above is the aftermath of "when semi meets gravel going at high speeds".
The first night we were there, my MIL brought out two little green chairs she got for the munchkin. She immediately sat in one joyfully:
And then she got the idea to line them up with a third chair (one MTM used as a child) and "play school":
The next afternoon (the only sunny and moderately warm day) we broke out the toddler pool (since the beach was too cold):
But she spent the bulk of the time moving water from the pool and into a large bucket, which she then wedged herself into:
The next morning, in spite of the temperature being less than favourable, they decided to go out for a boat ride:
Thanks to a ton of rain, a lot of time was spent making up indoor games, like this one:
She marched around the kitchen with an empty backpack strapped to her while she banged two pot lids together. Did I mention Mommy fought a migraine all weekend?
My SIL's boyfriend has joint custody of a dog from a previous relationship (don't ask; the whole story makes even less sense than that) and he brought it with them this weekend. Since my sister's dog died last fall, the munchkin hadn't been around dogs at all, so we were curious how she would react. She took a little time, but in the end she was quite happy to order him around (so long as he didn't lick her to come into contact with her in any way, shape or form:
(aside from petting him, which she did a few times)
One morning, after a particularly early start (that featured a couple of Curious George episodes on the PSP in Mommy and Daddy's bed at 5am to allow the rest of the house some precious hours of sleep), she crashed really hard in the swing outside (note how bundled she is; this is July people, JULY!)
Later that day, my SIL took out her guitar and let the munchkin strum while my SIL fingered the chords:
Unfortunately, my SIL does not know many children's songs (nor does she know Fly Me To The Moon, much to the munchkin's chagrin).
Finally, no road trip with a recently potty-trained toddler would be complete without this:
Kudos to MTM for thinking to line the inner potty cup with a ziploc bag. All she had to do for "clean up" was remove the bag and seal.
Overall, I think everyone had fun. Admittedly, four days up there is a lot for me to handle, and by the end my nerves were running a little frayed. But for the most part, it was good. I got through a bunch of Lego Star Wars II on my PSP (it's sort of sad how much joy I got from "buying" Boba Fett from the Cantina), as well as some Lemmings levels, so it wasn't a total bust.
But visiting with relatives is hard too, because they all want their munchkin time and their munchkin cuddles, and while Mommy is always a desired parent, sometimes Daddy gets pushed to the side, and that sucks. It was nice to have her to ourselves last night, where we both got as many hugs and snuggles as we could handle; not to mention being in our own house, where there are photos of me and everything.
My wife absolutely loves the cottage, and the munchkin is learning to appreciate the things my wife loves about it too. In truth, I'm a city boy, so spending a weekend (or longer) in the woods, where my cell has no signal and "the internet" comes through on 24kbps (on the fast days) with people who generally would prefer that their daughter never married me, doesn't exactly get a "Yay! Let's go north!" from me. But, we go for them.
All hope of "avoiding traffic" was squashed about midway through the (normally) three hour trip when someone (who may or may not have been me) wanted to stop for "the really good beef jerky" and we ended up behind this:
That is a police-escorted industrial compressed gas vessel. The convoy speed varied between 20 and 70 km/h (the limit was 80 and everyone does closer to 90-95). To make matters more fun, what would happen is whenever an oncoming vehicle approached the police cars would move into their lane and force them on to the gravel shoulder. The photo above is the aftermath of "when semi meets gravel going at high speeds".
The first night we were there, my MIL brought out two little green chairs she got for the munchkin. She immediately sat in one joyfully:
And then she got the idea to line them up with a third chair (one MTM used as a child) and "play school":
The next afternoon (the only sunny and moderately warm day) we broke out the toddler pool (since the beach was too cold):
But she spent the bulk of the time moving water from the pool and into a large bucket, which she then wedged herself into:
The next morning, in spite of the temperature being less than favourable, they decided to go out for a boat ride:
Thanks to a ton of rain, a lot of time was spent making up indoor games, like this one:
She marched around the kitchen with an empty backpack strapped to her while she banged two pot lids together. Did I mention Mommy fought a migraine all weekend?
My SIL's boyfriend has joint custody of a dog from a previous relationship (don't ask; the whole story makes even less sense than that) and he brought it with them this weekend. Since my sister's dog died last fall, the munchkin hadn't been around dogs at all, so we were curious how she would react. She took a little time, but in the end she was quite happy to order him around (so long as he didn't lick her to come into contact with her in any way, shape or form:
(aside from petting him, which she did a few times)
One morning, after a particularly early start (that featured a couple of Curious George episodes on the PSP in Mommy and Daddy's bed at 5am to allow the rest of the house some precious hours of sleep), she crashed really hard in the swing outside (note how bundled she is; this is July people, JULY!)
Later that day, my SIL took out her guitar and let the munchkin strum while my SIL fingered the chords:
Unfortunately, my SIL does not know many children's songs (nor does she know Fly Me To The Moon, much to the munchkin's chagrin).
Finally, no road trip with a recently potty-trained toddler would be complete without this:
Kudos to MTM for thinking to line the inner potty cup with a ziploc bag. All she had to do for "clean up" was remove the bag and seal.
Overall, I think everyone had fun. Admittedly, four days up there is a lot for me to handle, and by the end my nerves were running a little frayed. But for the most part, it was good. I got through a bunch of Lego Star Wars II on my PSP (it's sort of sad how much joy I got from "buying" Boba Fett from the Cantina), as well as some Lemmings levels, so it wasn't a total bust.
But visiting with relatives is hard too, because they all want their munchkin time and their munchkin cuddles, and while Mommy is always a desired parent, sometimes Daddy gets pushed to the side, and that sucks. It was nice to have her to ourselves last night, where we both got as many hugs and snuggles as we could handle; not to mention being in our own house, where there are photos of me and everything.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
