How Keifer Sutherland's grandfather came to be known as the greatest Canadian ever.

Emily left me a comment asking what I thought of health care in Canada, what with the American election coming up and all and the pros and cons of Universal Health Care being debated. I'd like to think she thinks I am wise enough to throw my knowledge on the state of Canadian health care out there, but really I am not. I do work in a hospital though and I do go to a dentist and occasionally a doctor. I definitely have an opinion. Granted it's fairly one sided since I have only ever lived in two countries, England with its NHS and Canada with its Canada Health Act.

Universal Health Care was started in 1947 in Saskatchewan by Tommy Douglas (Keifer's grandad!) after talks for a Canada-wide system failed. Eventually other provinces started funding health care, and by 1961 all provinces and the 2 territories had health care that received funding from the federal government.

How it works is that each province provides health insurances to its residents, giving them free access to...well, it's long freaking list. There's a lengthy list of what isn't included as well...dental services (unless its dental surgery that takes place in a hospital) optometrists, cosmetic surgery. The federal government then provides the provincial governments with funds.

As a Canadian, I really have no idea what the cost of a hospital stay is. I do not receive a bill that lists tylenol as a $1.50 per pill, or a birth for $2500. When I saw Sicko and the man who cut off his two fingers was given the choice of one finger being reattached for $60,000 or the other for $12,000 I knew that, in Canada, he wouldn't have even been asked "Which finger?" They would have automatically done both, and he wouldn't have received a bill.

It is a far from perfect system. We have an ongoing doctor shortage, wait times can be long. If we hadn't have paid for William's CT scan we probably would have waited about 3 or 4 weeks for it to be done. If you go into the ER complaining of a headache though, chances are good that the CT will be done that night. It is also not entirely free either. In Alberta a family will pay $88 a month for health care, $44 if you are single. That is subsidized if you are under a certain income. I pay $22 a month for mine, my work benefits cover the rest. We will move over to William's works plan as soon as his health care arrives as they cover it 100%. We are having an election next week, and all 3 major parties are promising to eliminate the premiums. Will that happen? I seriously doubt it.

I do believe we take advantage of the system, in that people will run to the ER rather than going to their doctor or a medicentre. When you don't have to pay you just don't consider the cost. At all. I know that a visit to the doctor is $36, because we pay when William needs to go. But an ER? No clue.

Overall, I believe that the benefits outweigh the negatives. Yes, you might wait for elective surgery, but I would rather have it for free than pay a fortune that I don't have. Some of you may recall that last year my friend gave birth to twins 6 weeks early. The girls spent 5 weeks in the ICN. Each day in the ICN is $1,000 per child. That would have cost them over $80,000. Imagine the stress that would have caused them if they had to pay even a portion of that, or if they had had to fight with their insurance company or HMO for the coverage.

Universal Health Care does not equal third world medicine. Yes, many doctors and nurses choose to work south of the border, but we also attract renowned doctors and scientists. Rare and lifesaving surgeries are preformed. I know that if one of my children becomes seriously ill, we have access to one of the best childrens hospitals in North America. I know that my family and I will be treated for any ailments without insurance being brought up.

While we Canadians may bitch and moan about the state of health care -it's in our nature, we love to complain- I don't believe there are many who would get rid of it. After all there is a reason that Tommy Douglas, the founder of Universal Health Care and so many other social programs (including my beloved Child Tax benefit), was named, by Canadians, as the greatest Canadian ever.

If only I were as efficient as the people at Harper Collins

On Monday I had a comment from a new (to me) blogger. I went over to the blog, as you do, and the most recent post was about her spring reading list. There was also a picture of a book she was going to read and review for Harper Collins. I left a comment saying I would love to find out about reviewing books.

The next morning I had a comment from Michelle, the blogger, leaving me email address of someone at Harper Collins. I quickly shot of an email, and didn't really expect to hear anything.

Within about 5 minutes I had received an email back asking for my address. Efficient or what?

I was coming up from the laundry room not 20 minutes ago when Saoirse said "Mummy! Door!" and there was a man with a nice little package. And what should it be, but 3 books from Harper Collins! Super efficient!

I'll take a picture later, but this is what I got...

Gorgeously Green- 8 Simple Steps to an Earth- Friendly Life by Sophie Uliano. I don't really think of myself as super green but I've taken a quick glance and it looks really interesting. For instance, did you know you can compost paper towels , pet hair and unpaid bills (I'll assume you can also compost paid ones.) There is a list of 80 things and at least 50 are a total surprise to me. I can think of a few bloggers out there who would love this book. I wonder if I am allowed to pass it on.

Sex Detox by Ian Kerner. Recharge desire. Revitalize Intimacy. Rejuvenate your love life. Hmmmm...I wonder if she took a quick peek at my blog and came across my quest to get laid. Which, FYI, did eventually happen. After I had a sulk.

Babyproofing Your Marriage- Cockrell, O'Neill and Stone. Another one that looks quite good, and definitely could be used in a house overrun by children.

I'm quite excited to start on these books. I'm a little nervous about reviewing them, I hope I can do them justice. And justify the fact that they just sent me over $80 worth of books. For free! Because I have a blog! I knew this little old blog would pay one day.

Updates

The results from William's CT scab came back fine. His doctor suggested that he quit his job...too much heavy lifting, and he thinks he may have strained his neck which is leading to these headaches. I said "But you've had these headaches since we met." I wanted to say "Quit your job? Are you fucking mad?" Seriously, I am so stressed out financially...we've just had a $700 increase in our rent, so all dreams of buying a house in this city have gone out the window. I really should do a comparison post. Blue Momma sends me pictures of houses where she lives in Alabama and for $200,000 I could have a lovely 4 bedroom brick house. Do you know what $200,000 would get me in Edmonton? A freaking mobile home in Edmonton's "finest mobile home community." And actually, it was $235,000. For a fucking trailer in a trailer park! It's hard to be a poor snob, ya know?

Anyway, he had gone to the doctor because of these intense headaches. He has had them since we met 5 years ago, but they have certainly increased in frequency until they are daily and constant. The doctor put him on medication to treat pre stroke symptoms, and we scheduled a CT. We paid for it ourselves as he does not yet have his health care card, and insurance will not cover something that is covered by the government. We had the all is fine results back before the cheque had even gone through, and for a moment I briefly considered what would happen if I put a stop payment on the cheque but I guess $300 to give him piece of mind is better spent than $300 to find out something actually is wrong.

I did have a phone call from the trustee I emailed, but I was in bed sleeping off the effects of 40 hours of a massive bout of diarrhea, in which I lost almost 3 lbs and slept 6 hours over 2 nights. I will call her back tomorrow. I had also emailed the public school I was looking at for Liam for Grade 7 and the principal called me today and said they would take any student who was looking to come into the school. He is going to forward my email to the special needs co-ordinator. We did discuss that coding is different between the 2 districts and that they actually have 2 programs Liam may qualify for- The Literacy one, as well as one called Opportunity. I'm a little more hesitant about the Opportunity program as some schools combine it with a behaviour program. I really don't need him in a class with students who misbehave constantly. But I'll see what they say- I'd rather have him in that class than in a school on the south side.

I did a lot of web searching today and found a program in Calgary that is based on the book "The Gift of Dyslexia". They say that 80% of the people they teach improve 4 grade levels in just one week. I have called them to find out how much the program is, and while I am sure it is way out of our price range maybe I can take out a loan or something. Sell my first born or whore myself out. Something like that.

I am going to buy that book and read some other books I have on dyslexia (one is currently on my to be read bookcase) and try and remind myself that it really is a gift and not just a disability. I forget sometimes that most dyselexics are actually highly intelligent, and while I tend to think Liam is going to end up working for minimum wage because he can't read the reality is that a great number of dyslexics go on to teach, be engineers or psychologists, accountants and any other number of jobs that require an education. The funny thing is that while we are struggling to have him seen to in elementary and junior high, the LD program for University and college students is apparently amazing. And the lucky boy would qualify for all sort of grants that a regular student would not be considered for. I feel much better about this whole thing now than I have for the last two days.

I wanted to say thanks for all of your comments over the last few days. They really meant a lot. I loves me some free advice and good vibes!

On a final note, I am currently watching Lipstick Jungle and, holy Hannah, has Andrew McCarthy ever aged! Well, I guess Pretty in Pink was over 20 years ago. God, I am getting old.

The thoughts running round my head

*This post is hideously long. I apologize in advance. I had a lot of thinking to do, a lot of thoughts to get down in writing. I have plenty of pens but no paper. So the blog is doing the job.*


As a mother, it is my job to fight for what I think is best for my children.
Unfortuantely, I have not done this for Liam. I have failed him. As a mother of a learning disabled child I am sorely lacking.

Sometimes I blame him for his issues. In reality I know it is his not fault. I know it is not my fault and I know it is not the fault of his father. So why blame him? Somewhere in my head I cannot understand how a child cannot love to read. My God, I don't know how I would have got through my childhood if I hadn't had a book to bury my head in and tune out the fighting going on around me. As a child a book was always in my hand. I just can't understand how a brain can be wired in such a way as to not be able to read the written word. It astounds me and it frustrates me.

And every time I have to sit with Liam and do his 20 minutes of reading at night I want to cry. Sometimes I want to scream "It's so simple! It's easy! Why don't you get it?" He is going on 12 and he still doesn't know all of his sight words, simple Grade 1 level words.

And because it frustrates me so much, I don't always make him do that reading, or I cut the time short. And I fail him once again by signing in his agenda that he has read for the full 20 minutes.

When Liam was in Grade 3 and was assessed for the third row in a year, it was suggested that we move him to a school that had an Academic Support program. I was not in favour of this and Liam was even less in favour of it. He cried, he bawled. I was told by the principal that if he remained at St. B's he would not qualify for an aide, and there was no guarantee that whatever class he was in would have an aide. So we enrolled him in the other school for the Grade 4 year. At the end of Grade 3, St. B's won an award for inclusive education.

Inclusive, my fat ass! They won an award because a well off family had followed the principal to the school and an aide meant for another child ended up working almost exclusively with their daughter. I often wonder what sort of money they had given to the school. I am not saying this child was not entitled to an aide. I do know that when she started at the school she was coded the same as Liam, as 'mild to moderate' and mild to moderate children do not get their own aides.

I had never been so angry as I was then. I wrote an excellent (IMHO) letter to the newspaper that published the article about the school winning an award, mentioning that my son, as well as at least 2 other children, were not receiving an education at their neighbourhood school, that I had to pay for Liam to be bussed to another school because the school board has said that if one school offers a program then the child has to move or get left behind at the neighbourhood school, with no aide and no help. Please tell me how that is inclusive education.

(Obviously, the actual letter was much better than the run on sentence you just read. Come on, it was 3 years ago, I am just giving you the jist of it.)

I took it no further than that letter. It was never published and as I am not one to make waves it was a blessing at the time. Failure number one.

Anyway, Liam had a so so Grade 4 year. He loved his teacher. We were told that although his reading was at a pre- Grade 1 level, he would quite possibly be considered a genius at math- he was past the grade assessment level. He made friends. Towards the end of the year he experienced some bullying. He said he wanted to go back to St. B's. I talked again with the principal and she said "Of course, we would take Liam back, but we can't guarantee there would be an aide in his class." He stayed at the other school. Failure number two. All I needed to say was that of course, they could guarantee he would be in a class with an aide, just make sure you put him in a class with any of the number of students who do qualify for an aide. I could have said "Suck up the cost of an aide part time." I did not.

Grade 5 was okay, made it to a grade one reading level, continued to do well in math, science and social studies, receiving marks of "demonstrates excellent achievement" (otherwise known as an A) in all 3 subjects in the final report card.

Grade 6 has been a hard year. Listening to him read at the start of the year, I thought he had turned a corner. I blogged about it, saying I hoped that this would mean a regular junior high program for him. The corner apparently was not turned, he is only at a Grade 2 reading level.

It is now February and the junior highs are having their open houses and visiting some elementary schools. There is only one school in the city that Liam can go to if he is to follow his academic support program and that is on the south side. We live in the west end. Although it is not an unreasonable drive by car, it is a long ride by bus. Currently, Liam attends a school about a 7 minute drive away and he spends 40 minutes on the bus in the morning and 50 on the bus in the afternoon.

I am at a loss as to what I should do. Do I pull him out of the Catholic system and place him in the public? I am not even guaranteed that they will take him.

Do I pull him out of school entirely and homeschool him through the junior high years and then send him to high school in Grade 10? Well, I've already stated that I get frustrated reading with him for 20 minutes. Imagine what would happen to both of us if I had to actually teach him 5 days a week? Frig, we'd both be dead. Him from me strangling him and me from a burst blood vessel.

I called my board trustee yesterday and sent her an email today. Want to read it? This post not long enough yet? Here goes:

Hi D,

I am sorry to be bothering you- I have also called you- but I have some increasing concerns in regards to my son Liam, who is currently in the Grade 6 academic support program at OLOV.

Liam has both dyslexia and dysgraphia so has great difficulty with reading and writing. He is, however, very intelligent- at the first report card his comprehension was at a Grade 7 level. He excels in Math, and is generally a well behaved student. (I had to put generally because bloody hell if the little bugger didn't get his first ever conduct last week for fooling around in music and causing a disruption!)

If Liam is to follow the academic support program he would be going to OLMC next year. From everything I have heard this would mean he would be on a bus from 2-3 hours daily.

I am wondering why no west end junior high offers an academic support program, and why 3 of the schools offer some sort of academic programs which I assume must be funded (STM with IB, St. R0se with Advanced Placement and Gifted & Talented and HE with the pre- Advanced Placement program they are bringing in next year) but not one offers an academic support program.

I have spoken to staff members at both HE and STM and was left with the impression that my son would not be welcome at either school.

I am hoping that you may have some advice for me. I am not willing to send Liam to the southside and at this time I feel my only choice may be to send him to a public school, and I really do not want to do this.

I have not yet heard back from her.

I have talked to numerous people at the school board in the last 2 days, I am waiting for a phone call tomorrow from the transportation department to tell me how long the bus ride is from our house to the other school. I have really gotten nowhere. I have been told that although HE (the school Liam really wants to go to) used to have an academic support program that because the school only "hosts" the program when they needed the clssrooms the program was moved elsewhere. So essentially I am being told that the school only "hosts" these students and they are not really a part of the school at all? They can be thrown about willy nily? I was told that sometimes they like to have a large group in one school to make it convenient for the teachers. So I am being told that to make it convenient for teachers we are sacrificing the students needs?

If I hear back from the school trustee and should she, foolishy, ask me what she can do for me I am going to tell her that, ideally, I want to meet with the board and that at this meeting I would like to see the education minister for the government, the opposition's education critic, someone from Alb.erta Lea.rning and the principal of any of the 3 westend schools that do not have academic support.

I know this would never happen. So I would settle for an answer to the following questions:

-how much does it cost to run IB, advanced placement and gifted and talented programs as compared to academic support?

- does the school board really believe that the westend is full of highly intelligent children and no children with learning disabilities?

- why is a child with Oppositional Defiant Disorder entitled to more funding than a child with a mild to moderate learning disorder. Why does an ODD child get an aide, when an LD student does not. And please don't tell me that it is because that child disrupts the entire class because I will then tell you that perhaps you should take a group of ODD students, segregrate them in a classroom with a teacher and an aide and take the LD kids out of the segregrated program and sprinkle them amongst regular classes with their own aides. If ODD kids are so disruptive, remove them.

- why does an Aborigional child receive extra funding just for being Aborigional?

- why can a parent of a child with what is considered a severe disability (such as Down Syndrome) insist that their child be integrated and I can not? (I am not saying I am against children with actual disabilities are not entitled to an integrated education. They most certainly are. But so is my son. And here is a reality that the school board does not get- disabled children will be supported by the government for the rest of their life (and yes, I realize that the financial amount is not great) but my son will not be. A learning disabled child who does not graduate high school and go on to college or university will still have to get a job. I'm pretty sure minimum wage doesn't go very far these days, and I am even more sure that it will not go very far in 15 years.

-why, oh why, did HE speak to the academic support students at OLOV? Liam was so excited. I'm pretty sure a number of those students have no actual chance fo going there. Why build up their hopes? (I'm actually calling the principal of that school tomorrow and asking that question.)

-why am I going on about this on this here blog? Probably because I will not have the nerve to do so in real life. But for Liam's sake I hope I do.

And that will be the last time I go out for Indian

*Once again, this is a TMI post. But not about sex, I promise.

Last night my girlfriends and I went out for our monthly dinner. Shelley was this month's restaurant chooser and she chose an East Indian place. I'm trying to get out of my life long habit of being a fussy, North-American-or-English-only-please! eater. And I do like samosas. So I was okay with it.

The ambiance was great. The hosts were lovely and friendly.

And you know the food was good. The butter chicken was delicious. The lamb was spicy. The thousands of calories for one tiny piece of deep fried battered vegetables was scrumptious. The naan bread was yummy. There were no samosas, but that was okay I filled my plate with food that I mostly enjoyed.

But you know how sometimes you are eating something and you just know you are going to regret it? Your stomach does those little rumblies that mean that you will be in trouble when you get home?

After we ate, we went to Second Cup for assorted coffees, green tea lattes, nothing-at-all-because-the-only-cold-drink-they-serve-is-Italian-soda. My latte was lovely, but probably added to my later misery. We had a nice chat* though and then we headed home.

The MOMENT I walked in the door I was heading for the toilet, where I proceeded to spend the next 5 or so hours, off and on of course. Had I spent the entire 5 hours there I would probably currently weigh about 2 lbs.

I'm still all rumbly. I am not one to use public toilets, but I am going to hope and pray Costco's are clean should I be forced to today.


*So my friend Jen recounts a conversation she had with the fella who was doing her 6 month housing inspection. He asks her how her daughter's orthodontist appointment went and she says it was fine and her daughter needs braces. He says to her that the reason so many kids need braces these days is because of the mixing of the races, that the blood is no longer pure. Seriously? What the fuck? Now I don't know if he had noticed Jen's younger daughter, who is part Filipino and I don't think he saw the older one, who is part Native, and if he had seen her I don't think he would have guessed at her mixed heritage. But honestly, where does someone get off saying that? She said she was so in shock she didn't even say anything to him. We all said she needs to file a complaint with her homebuilder and really she should probably go to the Human Rights Commission as well. I mean, free speech is all fine and dandy but keep it to your KKK meeting.

A request

If you happen to be the praying sort, or the send good vibes your way sort, can you include us, specifically William, in your prayers or thoughts? He is on his way to a head cat scan and while I hope all is well, I think he is a bit worried. I don't want to get too much into it, but hopefully in a day or two we will hear good news.

The things I go through for love

**Fair warning: This is a TMI post.**


Because there was no nookie (it's because of AFF that I am now using that word) in my house on Valentines Day it was said the big deed would happen on Friday.

Isn't it terrible when you no longer can just do it? It has to be planned out and scheduled with time limits and noise restrictions. Sex in a non family bed is much easier, let me tell you.

And of course, I do realize there are places other than the bed in which to do the deed. But I'm not 17 anymore, people. Hell, I'm not even 29 anymore. Sometimes I just want a nice comfy bed and a blanket to hide bits and pieces. Old before my time, I am.

So anyway...Friday. William takes Liam to a movie, and Saoirse falls asleep on her own by 9pm. In our bed, of course. William comes home, we watch a bit of TV, I say I am going to for a shower.

I figure I may as well as shave the old legs, since it has been a loooonnng time since a razor last touched them. Shall I tell you how long? December 8th. Yes, I have not shaved my legs in 2 months. I know. Gross. But in my own defence, it's pretty slow growing AND it's the dead of winter in a very cold place. Who sees it other than me and occasionally, William? No one that's who. Although I do have fears of ending up in the emergency room with unshaven legs AND wearing my period knickers on a period free day. That would be the absolute worst.

Back to the story. I'm shaving my legs for the first time in forever and I'm moving pretty fast. I think "If I'm not careful, I'm going to cut myself." And what should happen? Yes, I cut myself. How can one tiny cut hurt so freaking much? Oh, it was burning. I quickly finished (and later discovered I missed a few spots) and got out where I proceeded to bleed onto the floor. How can one tiny cut bleed so much?



A wash and a Dora bandaid made my booboo all better...


And after all that pain? We didn't even do it! Can you believe it? I went to bed, read for a bit and then fell asleep. He watched a film and when he came up he put Saoirse into her bed. I heard him come in, felt him cuddle up to me and thought "Oh, I'm so tired, give me 2 minutes!" The next thing I knew it was 8am and Saoirse was at the side of the bed. So no sex. None last night either. Sigh. I work tonight, tomorrow is the Family Day holiday so he doesn't have to get up early and it is happening tonight. Oh, it so is. Otherwise I am going to throw a sex deprived temper tantrum. And I'm assuming those are not pretty.

Valentines Shmalentines

So the big day of love was yesterday.

Pshhh, says I. When did I become the Valentine equivalant of the Grinch Who Stole Christmas?

I got a card from William that says the following: "So it's Valentine's Day. BIG DEAL. Who needs love? Who needs passion? Who needs raging uninhibited sex?"

Open it up and it says "Why do you keep raising your hand?"

And I had to laugh at this very unromantic card because it is oh-so-true. The roles are totally reversed in our house, and have been for the past year or so. It's weird.

And of course there was no Valentine's nookie in our house last night. William is in bed by 10, as he is up at 5 and I have to prioritize and last night? Survivor, Murdoch Mysteries (Yannick Bisson! my teenage heart is all aflutter) and the Lipstick Jungles were on.

I did offer some oral copulation in replace of my not giving the poor fella a card, but again timing and a daughter in the bed made it not happen.

This weekend maybe. I do have to do my work, and discover if he was the owner of the grey hair found on my jumper.

Who says romance is dead? He even kissed me 5 times before he went to bed. In a row.

I know. I almost died of shock too.

Pondering

Today I took a recently laundered jumper out of the closet to wear.

I noticed what looked an awful lot like a grey pubic hair.

Where did this hair come from? Is it, in fact, a hair?

I guess the next time I wander down that way I am going to have to take a look and see if the fella is going grey.

From this to that

Sophie was 18 months old on Sunday. It is hard to believe that this little tiny baby who cried all. day. long is now 18 months old. She no longer cries all day but she sure does do my head in. How would I describe Sophie? Smart, defiant, adorable, naughty, loving, funny, sassy, tempermental.







I know you aren't supposed to compare children but she is just so incredibly different from Saoirse. Whereas Saoirse is very shy and reserved Sophie is right out there. She has no fear of strangers at all and will walk right up to someone and start talking. Saoirse has never had a time out but Sophie is no stranger to the "time out stair". Saoirse cries when she gets in trouble, Sophie looks at you with a frown and continues to defy. She is much more affectionate than Saoirse was and said words like hug, kiss and I love you much earlier than her sister. While Saoirse has always slept with us and won't fall asleep on her own, Sophie has no such issues. At about 8 months old we would say "Are you ready for bed?" and she would crawl over to the stairs. Now she will say no if she is not quite ready, but within about 15 minutes she is going around for hugs and kisses and saying "nigh nigh". None of my kids were as great about sleeping as she is.

And because I don't keep a baby journal...

She still babbles a lot, but she also says a lot of sentences. "I want that" is her newest. She has just started counting, and is trying to sing along to the ABCs. She won't go to sleep unless she is holding her puppy or a doll. She can do the chicken dance. She calls me Emma more often than she calls me Mummy. She likes to put on her own socks. She is obsessed with shoes. She knows where all her body parts are. She stopped using a bottle on her 15 month birthday and given the choice she will use a regular cup over a sippy cup. She will not turn away a piece of fruit, but is not so keen on vegetables. She steals her dad's coke when he is not looking. She likes to drink tea out of a big mug. She loves animal crackers and rice krispie squares. She gets mad if you try and throw away her dirty nappy- she wants to do it herself. When it is thrown away she claps her hands and stamps her feet (the newest way for her to say "Yea me!") She likes to stand on the back of the sofa and jump down to the seat. She has broken one of the fake drawers under the kitchen sink because she opens up the cupboard door, holds onto the false front of the drawer and starts climbing. I had noticed it was loose and the day it finally came off she went flying down to the floor and banged her head. She cried for about 3 seconds, got up and tried climbing back up. She loves to be read to and knows if you skip a page. She insists that her name is Saoirse, not Sophie. "Who are you?" we say. "I Saoirse" she says. "No, you're Sophie." And she yells "NO!! I SAOIRSE!"

Today she had her 18 months shots. She weighs 26lbs 6oz and is 32 3/4", putting her in the 75th percentile for both. (Saoirse was 23 15 and 31" at the same age.) Her head is in the 90th percentile. She did not cry when she got her shots, she started to whimper with the second one, the one that stings, but stopped as soon as the needle was out. The nurse was very impressed. She was given a sticker and when we did the 15 minute wait she walked up to some woman who was breastfeeding her baby and started talking away. This is the jist of the conversation: "Blah, blah, blah, baby, blah blah, look what I got (shows the sticker on her hand), blah, see baby!, blah." The mum stops feeding the baby and shows her to Sophie who oohs and aahs, but thankfully does not do what she did to the last baby she saw, which was the old choke and hug manouvere.

I`m pretty sure that one day I will let Sophie read this blog, or print off the posts about her and I want that adult Sophie to know how very much she was adored as a toddler, how she made us laugh every single day, how sweet and loving she was. I hope that these are traits that last her the rest of the life.

Let`s just hope that the temper tantrums don`t last past this side of toddlerhood.

Proof that I am the relatively sane one in my family

At least on my dad's side. Which is a huge mess of alcoholism and, well, isn't that enough? They say you have a 50% chance of becoming an alcoholic if you are the child of one, and I thank God that I have thus far managed to avoid that pitfall. I'm screwed up enough without adding drink to it.

Somewhere along the way my parents must have done something right, because I think that my dad is the only one without at least one alcoholic child who hasn't had some massive screw up in their lives.

For example, one of my cousins? Left her husband for another cousin. As in our first cousin. Flew off to Ireland and they lasted all of 3 weeks. Then she moved to England, met and married some guy who beat her, sponsored him to live in Canada, and they were over within 5 months. She was engaged last year to someone, split up with him, and got married to someone else this past Christmas.

Her brother? Massive alcoholic from the time he was a teenager.

Yesterday my dad called me to let me know that another cousin had gone into rehab. This is the same cousin, who if you were reading me last April, called me and asked if she could stay with me as her husband had videotaped her throwing an alarm clock at her, which had landed her a night in jail and a restraining order.

I called my mum to see if she had heard and yes, J had called her the day before. Turns out that she and her husband were arguing, just arguing, no violence involved, and he called the social worker and she recommended calling the police. When the police arrived, J was once again carted off to jail where she spent another night. Because of this, they have lost their son for 3 months (he is staying with J's sister, which is an odd choice I think...another totally dysfunctional person.) I shouldn't say their, for B is actually just J's child. I don't doubt that her husband loves him though, so I think involving the police in this was cutting off his nose to spite his face.

I know that J is far from perfect but she loves her son, and she is in a relationship that she should have left when all this happened last year. She screwed up by putting his name onto her house and now he won't leave. She has been off of work since before all this even happened because of stress related issues and I am sure she worries about how she would make it on her own. Her parents are not supportive, to the point that last year, she stayed with my mum when she was not allowed in her house. (Actually, she wasn't even allowed into the town in which she lives, she had to stay in the city.)

When she gets out of rehab, she is more than likely going to stay with my mum again. My mum will try and convince her to take a loss on the house, just to get this guy out of her life. This may mean my mum ends up with J and her son for quite some time.

Even though my life and relationship are not perfect I'm pretty thankful that they are not THAT bad.

And that somehow I managaed to avoid that gene that has affected so many of my cousins.

My mother would just say that this is proof that the English blood is stronger than the Irish.

Hey, hey we're the Backyardigans

What's that you say? Oh. That's not how the Backyardigans theme song goes? Well, it does for me since I can never remember the words to anything. I think it really says something like "We're your Backyarrrrdigans."

Anyway, the two wee girls received tickets to the Backyardigans for Christmas. And since we are not yet neglectful enough to send them out into the big bad world alone, William and I also received tickets. I suppose just one of us coud have went but have you met Sophie? That girl is a handful.

Plus the show was really quite good, even though the pictures are quite blurry.


Oh, what the poor woman sitting next to Sophie had to put up with. She talked away to her, and at one point was climbing into her lap. Sophie loved the show, absoultely adored it.


Saoirse liked it too. She's much quiter than her litte sister though. And much more shy, so didn't dance around like Sophie did.


Singing the goodbye song.


This is showing up in the draft so I hope it does in the post. At the end you can hea Sophie. She wanted them to come back on stage.

Emma is...

fine. Thanks for asking. (That's not sarcastic...people really did ask. I heart those people. And the rest of you too.)

Emma is getting it together.

Back soon!

The Truth Hurts

I'm in the bathroom, scrubbing the sink. Saoirse comes and stands in the doorway.

Saoirse: Yous got a really big bum.

Me: What was that? (I'm giving her a chance to quickly correct herself. I know she's only 3, but surely she understands that this is a massive faux pas.)

Saoirse: Yous got a really big bum.

Me: Oh, really? (Honestly, I'm just setting myself up for punishment.)

Saoirse: Yeah, you does. But mine isn't big. I just have a little bum.


Sign number two that I must seriously lose weight.

Thanks Saoirse.

Love you.

And your little bum.

And I even love your big mouth.

My parents chose the wrong city to live in

I don't like heat. Have I mentioned that in the midst of summer when +30 is creeping up and my house feels like a sauna? Heat and I? We aren't good friends. I should say weren't, because never before have I prayed for a summmer day like I did today.

Do you know what the temperature was in Edmonton with the wind chill? -46!!! That's -50.8 for those of you south of the border. Which, if you've not yet experienced it, is freaking cold!

And with these extreme temperatures, that we have not seen for a good few years, came blowing snow. The roads were horrid when William took me to work yesterday. We saw 2 accidents at 2 different entrances to the mall, one involving 4 cars. It annoys me immensely that people seem to forget that they live in a city where it snows 5 months of the year and they don't adpat to winter conditions. Honestly. Some fecker changed lanes right in front of us without signalling, right at the sight of one of the accidents. Dumb ass. Did he not wonder how this accident may have been caused? Probably some eejit who didn't signal!


On the way home at 10.30 I said that if the roads are as bad in the morning I wouldn't send Liam to school, knowing that his bus would probably be over an hour late. I looked out my window this morning, which was totally frosted over on the inside and saw he wouldn't even be able to open the gate.

So I called his school and told him he could stay in bed. About 15 minutes later his driver called and said that she wouldn't be picking him up, there was no heat in the bus. That would have been a mighty cold 45 minutes had she driven today. The roads are supposed to be worse tomorrow, and it's still going to be cold. Taylor is trying to get out of school, but I am not as kind to her. Currently, she has perfect attendance and I would like her to maintain that. Her teacher informed them that if it hits -50 with the wind chill they cancel school. So really, she only has another 4 degrees to go.

I don't want 4 kids home tomorrow, I got almost nothing done today, so I am hoping for warmer weather.

Especially because tomorrow is my girls night out. And we're going to Moxies, which just happens to be my favourite restaurant.