That New Year’s Meme, 2012 Style

Tags

2012, end of year, memes, new years, reflection

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?

Hmm. I got fired by email. That was fun. I went to Wisconsin. I met Perfect Husband’s grandmother. I also got awarded employee of the year, for reasons which remain unclear to me.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I didn’t make any last year. Clever girl. I may make some for next year, but I will try to make clever ones that can’t be broken, like, “I will gain weight” and “I will grow older.”

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

My friend with the baby who sleeps. In case you missed it, her baby? She sleeps.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

My Aunt Helen, in May.

5. What countries did you visit?

The States. A lot of the States. Multiple cross-border trips for cheap produce and shipping, and those trips to Vegas and Wisconsin.

6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?

A million dollars. Time. A clean house. Maybe another child?

7. What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

Etched? I don’t think anything in 2012 was etch-worthy.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Finding a job where I am treated like a valuable and likeable human being? Training people’s dogs and getting paid for it? Teaching Owl English?

9. What was your biggest failure?

Let’s go back to that fired by email thing, hey? Probably a lot point. Also, teaching Beloved Dog to read was not overly successful.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Only to my self-respect, although I think that is slowly healing.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

My new video camera, probably!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

Owl’s, for sure. He’s such a cheerful, chatty little kid. He makes me laugh constantly, he’s never a speck of trouble when we’re out (in fact, he’s helpful for dragging grocery baskets and such), and he potty trained within a week at the age of 27 months. I think I’ll keep him.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

My former boss. The man is an idiot, and for all he came off so sweet, he’s a bad person.

You know what I learned from the kennel lady at my current work? He paid that little old woman less than minimum wage – just $300 a week, and she was there cleaning cages and setting up for his surgeries from first thing in the morning until close every day, and came in on weekends to check on the boarding animals. When her husband died and she asked for a raise to help keep house, he said no. I’m so glad I’m shot of that whole nasty place, and working with the people who walked out on him instead.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Debts, food, and that summer trip to Vegas/Wisconsin.

15. What did you get really excited about?

That night to myself. Damn, that was good.

16. What song will always remind you of 2012?

Gangnam Style, and Call Me Maybe, because Owl loves that damn song so we ended up playing it a lot.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

– Happier or sadder? Happier!

– Thinner or fatter? Fatter.

– Richer or poorer? Income-wise, richer by a significant margin, and yet somehow we still seem poorer. It seems like no matter how much extra I make, we never have any more money. It all goes into our debt.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Writing in my diary. I NEVER do it any more and I miss it.

Also, video editing. I miss that.

I also miss The Sims, but I don’t actively wish I had done more of it. It is fairly low in my priorities.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Eating. Spending money.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

Here in Vancouver, without my parents for the first time in my entire life. It was good, but strange.

21. Did you fall in love in 2012?

Not with anyone new. I remained in love. I think that’s better.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

Firefly and Better Off Ted.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

No, hate is a waste of time and people have been mostly good to me.

24. What was the best book you read?

Hmm, I don’t know. I haven’t picked up many new books, and I’m assuming that old re-read books don’t count.

I started the Game of Thrones books this year, but I feel very conflicted about them, so I can’t call them The Best. Definitely NOT Fifty Shades of Grey. I haven’t even blogged about THAT experience yet.

Maybe Terry Pratchett’s Snuff? It’s no Thud, which is my favourite Vimes book, but it’s growing on me. I Shall Wear Midnight was a bit of a let-down, so not that.

YES, I’m picky.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Pfffff… I don’t make musical discoveries. I like certain songs on the radio, but nothing life changing.

26. What did you want and get?

A NIGHT TO MYSELF. A new video camera. Books. Owl speaking English. Approval from coworkers. Writing jobs. Dog training jobs.

27. What did you want and not get?

A million dollars.

A clean house.

Thinner.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

Wreck It Ralph. Wow, and I haven’t blogged about THAT yet, either, have I? Damn, I’m behind.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 30. My friends helped me de-hoard my house and then we went out to dinner.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Becoming a wealthy author who doesn’t have to work (because writing doesn’t count as work).

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?

Scrubs/peed-on scrubs.

32. What kept you sane?

Sunshine. Nice coworkers. Owl being adorable. Perfect Husband being helpful.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

I… don’t think anybody.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

The Occupy movement, the American election. You know – politics of a country that is not my own.

35. Who did you miss?

My family. My friends, including local ones who I never seem to see any more. My life has become too busy.

36. Who was the best new person you met?

Probably a girl at my work who I identified as a geek due to her D20 earrings. We’ve discovered a mutual love of Terry Pratchett and board games.

She and her boyfriend came over for a game of Ahnk Morpork last month and they’re coming over again next week for a game of either Small World or Munchkin Quest.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012.

When planning future children, do the math. We didn’t realize until too late that we had probably missed a window for having a second child, and now Owl will be three or more before we have our next one.

Also, I need to pay more attention to my dog.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

Nope, I give up. I’ve got nothing.

Check me out in 2011

Check me out in 2010

Home of the Flies

Tags

cleaning, flies, house cleaning, pests

We have house flies.

IN WINTER.

They started a little while ago. We noticed one or two around the house, usually in the bathroom or computer room. We suspected that they were after the poo – there was a dirty disposable or two in the bathroom garbage in the cupboard under the sink, and the cat litter box was due to be changed.

On boxing day, it seemed like there was more than ever. That morning we discovered that Beloved Dog had had diarrhea in his crate, no doubt as a thank you for the canned turkey with cranberries dog food I gave him on Christmas Day.

Perfect Husband spent a gruelling half hour cleaning out that crate, and came downstairs a changed and disgusted man. Then I washed the dog’s ass while waving away flies and we made a vow.

Boxing Day would be the Day Of No More Poop.

With Owl potty trained, we no longer have a bin of cloth diapers in his room. I put the last bag out for our diaper service a couple of weeks ago. We still put him in a disposable over night, but that’s it, and he usually doesn’t poop over night.

There was no reason to keep poop in our house.

So I not only cleaned the cat box, I scrubbed it.

We emptied all the garbage.

I swept and mopped the downstairs, and vacuumed the upstairs.

I covered the bathroom and large portions of the kitchen in Comet.

By the end of the day, we could say with pride that our house did not have a single crumb of poo in it.

“Mommy, my POOPED IN THE POTTY!”

…Okay, so we flushed that and THEN our house did not have a crumb of poo in it.

But yesterday, it seemed like there were possibly even more flies.

This morning I was sure of it. I walked into the computer room and found a cloud of TEN OF THE THINGS, just dancing away.

WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM?

New Traditions

Tags

board games, Christmas, elmo, family, gifts, ham, Jane Eyre, Munchkin quest, RC helicopter, sony, tradition, turkey

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas.

Mine was… strange.

I mean, it was good, but it was weird. It was the first time, ever, that I celebrated Christmas without my parents and our set traditions. Instead, Perfect Husband and I had to compromise to make our own.

Perfect Husband’s family celebrates Christmas on Christmas Eve. Santa comes early for them, while the kids are out on a drive, looking at Christmas lights. They have a big feast of ham and pot luck goodies.

My family has always done Christmas more traditionally. We go to church Christmas Eve, open presents Christmas Day, and have a turkey dinner that night.

So Perfect Husband and I had to work things out.

We agreed to open gifts from family/each other Christmas Eve, but that Santa would still come overnight so Owl could open his stocking Christmas morning. That worked out ok.

Perfect Husband got his ham, since I got turkey at Thanksgiving this year. I’m not sure how this quite works, though. He’ll get ham again at Easter (to me, ham is Easter food), so does that mean I have to do ham a third time next Thanksgiving before I get my next turkey dinner? Unsure at this point.

I did my sweet potato casserole, one of my favourite Christmas/Thanksgiving dishes, and Christmas Eve I made tortiere, my own family’s Christmas Eve meal.

So it was weird for both of us – PH because we were eating tortiere on Christmas Eve instead of ham, and me because we were eating ham on Christmas Day, instead of turkey.

We Skyped with my parents so they could watch Owl opening his stocking this morning, and that was nice.

And I got awesome gifts – Perfect Husband got me nerdy T-shirts, including an Anxiety Girl shirt, a geeky board game (Munchkin Quest, which we played this evening and is awesome), a promise of a video card once boxing day sales kick in, and I got a new video camera which I have been needing for a while (my friend and I have been toying with the idea of making dog training instructional videos, but not with my low-def 2007 model handycam!). This is a Sony PJ260V and is entirely awesome and has a PROJECTOR on it. So you’ll be getting some HD videos posted soon.

I was deeply relieved to learn that a gift he had ominously referred to as my “Fifty Shades of Grey Gift” was actually a toy helicopter – something I have always wanted – and nothing scary for the bedroom.

He also gave me (get this, The Squeee!) an 1858 edition of Jane Eyre, which he had professionally restored. It’s beautiful. I want to run my hands over it and keep it in my pocket but I’ve been keeping it up on a high shelf instead, well away from inquisitive toddlers!

And Owl, well, he got TOO MUCH STUFF!

Puzzles, books, stuffed animals, clothes, undies, noisy electronics… I think the cake was taken by our Daycare Lady, who apparently got him (and every other boy in the daycare) one of those Let’s Rock Elmos, which is both adorable AND creepy. I need to post a video of that soon because Owl was just AGOG.

Our favourite of our own gifts to him (which were minimal and actively reduced when we saw the influx arriving from relatives) was a $10 box of plastic foods, which pretty much deserves its own post, accompanied by cute HD video so stay tuned for that.

He fell asleep clutching the shark slippers my sister in law sent him.

We also exposed Owl to The Grinch (which he loved), Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (which bored him) and A Muppet Family Christmas (the unexpurgated version, which PH had transferred to DVD from a VHS tape six years ago), which held him entranced.

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I have a feeling I’ll keep forgetting that Christmas happened, since this was such a departure from all my previous Christmases. It felt like a wonderful day, but not like Christmas per se. It didn’t smell like Christmas, or taste like Christmas, because there was no turkey or gravy. It wasn’t at my parents’ house where Christmas always takes place. We opened gifts Christmas Eve instead of reflecting on the Christmas Story. It didn’t feel right.

I’m sure it felt just as weird to PH. But this is how new traditions start, I guess, with departures from the old. Maybe some day Owl will complain when things don’t match what today was like, because that will be Christmas for him.

I also haven’t been filled with that Christmas peace that I have had in the past, probably due to disruption of traditions and my work schedule interfering with my Christmas spirit. It’s hard to get in the mood when you’re working even on Christmas Eve, instead of on a mini-vacation back home, you know?

But I have no complaints. There will be many more Christmases, with turkey and grandparents, and midnight mass, and next year Owl will understand about Santa, which will be fun. We kept telling him Santa brought him his stocking stuff and he kept saying “No, Daddy did it!”

And I have a second edition of Jane Eyre, man.

No complaints at all.

In Which Vancouver Fails At Snow With Spectacular Results

Tags

bridges, coping with snow, shovelling, snow, snow driving, Vancouver, winter

Vancouver got the first snowfall of winter the other day, and since this is Vancouver we are talking about, it could very well be its last snowfall of the winter as well.

I have always liked snow. Living in the Caribbean made me appreciate it, especially at Christmas time.

I don’t like Vancouver’s rainy weather, and I get delighted when the snow hits, because on top of a winter wonderland, I get some fantastic entertainment: watching Vancouver deal with snow.

Vancouver doesn’t get snow often, so when it arrives the entire city goes into a full scale panic.

December 18, 2012 — A snowfall warning has been issued for the southern coastal region of BC as a strong frontal system arrives tonight. 

Scattered precipitation will fall over the area today and become widespread this evening as the system approaches.

“It’s all elevation dependent” says Brian Dillon, a meteorologist with The Weather Network. “Areas of Vancouver close to the harbour should receive less than 2 cm of snow but if you move 100 m above the city you could see up to 5 cm.”

That’s right. Snowfall warnings are issued for what many parts of the country would consider flurries.

And with good reason, because this city can’t handle even a few centimetres of snow. 

If snow fell in the heart of the Caribbean tomorrow, I don’t think the startled inhabitants could deal with it more poorly than Vancouverites do.

I Need More “Merry” Before Christmas.

Tags

anxiety, Christmas, depressing, depression

Sorry for the long radio silence.

I’ve been waiting for something to happen that ISN’T depressing.

We’re all upset about Newtown, although a part of me asks why, in a world where 30,000 children die from hunger and disease every day, this particular twenty hits us all so hard.

Mike Graston’s image, as published in the Windsor Star

Maybe it’s just the unforgiving truth that we assume that we are safe.

Our children are fed, clothed, and vaccinated. Our plastics are BPA free. We use car seats and booster seats, we monitor their play around the clock. We assume our children are safe, and when that belief is shattered, we take it very hard.

In any case, I feel like Newtown started this cascade of bad events. Everyone on my Facebook feed seems depressed. Bad things are happening.

My work has had a run of tragic losses – I rushed a long time patient into the back when his owner presented him for a routine procedure and I took one look at him and realized he was dying, which he did anyway despite oxygen and CPR.

Then I had to drive up a snow covered mountain to recover a dead puppy from a Vancouverite who was too scared of driving in snow to bring him in when he was hit by a car. I won’t talk about it any further, not because I don’t want to talk about it – in fact, I do, in vituperative and graphic detail, to anyone who will listen (much like the Ancient Mariner), but it’s far too depressing a story for me to inflict on you. Suffice to say that the blood stains on my passenger seat still bum me out when I get into the car.

A realtor came to look our place over and give us a valuation (just in case) and politely told me that our house is a dump and would go for about $20,000 less than similar units selling in our complex. Because it’s a dump.

You mean this isn’t desirable?

I’m beginning to sympathize with Aunt Josephine from A Series Of Unfortunate Events.

We went across the border to get some mail, and got pulled aside at the border over a misunderstanding, which resulted not only in a long wait with a child who was past his nap time, but us having to pay tax on duty free liquor (yup).

Owl got sick the day before my work’s Christmas party, which resulted in our friends not wanting to babysit him lest he get their baby sick. My awesome neighbour did dig up a potential babysitter for us, but we just didn’t have babysitter money in our Christmas budget so we brought him to the fancy dinner. He was a hit, but PH had to go home early with him, thus missing out on the theatre show – even though my boss had already paid for the ticket.

PH isn’t having a great time either. He just found out that a former coworker who he finally escaped from when he changed locations last year is going to be his coworker again – someone who used to make his life hell.

I came downstairs this morning to find that PH had rearranged Owl’s alphabet magnets creatively.

That about sums it up

I still haven’t mailed all of my Christmas parcels. Hell, I haven’t even finished my Christmas shopping.

I’m sleepy all the time. I think it’s the long, dark nights and short, dark days.

I took a Wellbutrin this morning.

Focusing on the positive:

Monday’s Canada’s Worst Driver showed gay man love, and that made us happy. You don’t see enough of that on reality television.

Owl seems to be recovering quickly from his cold.

When the realtor walked into Owl’s room, she brightened up and said, “oh, THIS is nice!” in a surprised tone of voice.

And it really is.

My much-coveted cape coat arrived in time for my work’s Christmas party, a gift from my mother.

I’m getting a fancy new video camera with my Christmas bonus money from my dog training business, which I can use to make training videos and possible become rich and famous. Or just use to make more Owl videos.

Best of all, I was voted Employee Of The Year at work! How’s that a turn around from almost a year ago?

(as an amusing side note, I also found this post from around this time last December, so things are definitely looking up)

Being Employee of the Year is not only a huge morale booster, it’s a $1,000 prize which must go towards a trip of some kind. PH had been talking about taking Owl and I to Disneyland, but I was wavering because of the cost. PROBLEM SOLVED.

…Except that an hour after PH booked it, the friends who were supposed to be going with us to share a room with us (cutting costs) and taking Owl off of our hands ended up having to back out – problems with the husband’s work schedule. So that’s a new problem.

Right. POSITIVE.

The problem with being me is that rather than bask in the “I must be awesome” glow of being Employee of the Year, I am instead plagued with thoughts like this:

“You don’t deserve that, you haven’t worked nearly hard enough.”

“Everyone must be pissed at you for winning, because THEY wanted the $1,000 prize.”

“Now, if you don’t work even harder, people are going to regret voting for you.”

“No one complimented your dress at the work party. They probably thought that you were slovenly and awful and have lost all respect for you.”

“Your dress slipped when you hugged Dr Hank Azaria, exposing your bra. Now everyone thinks you’re a ho.” 

And other such cheerful thoughts.

Did I mention I took a Wellbutrin?

In Which I Fret About The Chance That Things Might Change In The Nebulous Future, Because, Hi, I’m Me.

Tags

anxiety, change, generalized anxiety disorder, homes, life, living far away, moving house

PH likes change.

It is one of his most baffling but also more endearing qualities. He likes to visit new places, try new things, and basically expose himself to all kinds of potential for disappointment, regret, and other things that I avoid as if they were herpes.

Change me no likee.

Well, that’s not quite true. I like GOOD change. Really obvious, risk-free, guaranteed-to-be-positive change!

Most change doesn’t fit that criteria.

It was his love of change that sent PH out to Vancouver in the first place. He sold all his possessions, up and moved.

Making the decision to move out there with him several years later was probably one of the riskiest things I have ever done. I was leaving friends and family behind and quitting a job I liked. But on the other hand, I was heading to a place with much better job opportunities, I was young, and I had my fiancé with me.

It was fun, and exciting, and difficult. I had trouble finding a job, I had trouble making friends, and I had a lot of trouble putting down roots. I suffered depression. I lost two jobs.

But I’m finally getting settled in.

And now, Perfect Husband is starting to get bored of Vancouver.

I think he is also getting tired of sharing me with three different jobs – my vet clinic job, my dog training business, and my occasional Elance work.

Even though he knows we need the money, and he is supportive of my dog training business in general, he doesn’t like me disappearing for half the weekend on my dog training appointments. And if my clinic job asks me to work a Saturday? There is definite grumbling to be heard.

But at the same time, we want a second child and have no idea how we will be able to afford it. The math just doesn’t work.

If we didn’t have a $220,000 mortgage plus monthly condo fees, we wouldn’t be feeling the pinch so much. It doesn’t help that we know that if we outgrow our current place, we’d need an even larger mortgage. Our current one is tiny by Vancouver standards, because our complex has so many repair issues.

For a larger place, we’d be looking at $600,000 or more, very probably. And that just ain’t gonna happen unless I suddenly become VERY famous and rich.

So whenever a job pops up at PH’s company in a place with lower housing prices, even if it’s a job that he is totally unsuited for, he applies for it and starts browsing houses. I’ll get a text saying ‘Hey, want to live in Memramcook?” or “Who wants to move to Burns Lake?”

Of course, since he’s largely unqualified for most of these jobs, and because he lists moving costs as a condition of getting the job, the chances are remote… but there have been some close calls.

And every time he does this, I have to think about how I feel about moving.

The problem all comes down to change.

I’m actually HAPPY right now, which, to quote Marlin from Finding Nemo, is a big deal, for me.

I like the vet clinic where I work. I like my boss, and my coworkers.

My dog training business is picking up. We actually have a minor TV celebrity on our training roster right now. If we get permission to use her name on our website, that will look AWESOME.

I have friends who have little boys of about Owl’s age. Our neighbour dropped his two sons off to play with Owl for a couple hours yesterday and the house got so much more peaceful with to toddlers to occupy Owl’s attention. We have another friend’s tot coming over for a babysitting session tonight, so Owl will be happier than a pig in muck.

For all of the issues we occasionally have with Owl’s daycare, he loves it there. He talks constantly about the other kids, he hates to leave, and they love him. They tell him “I love you, baby” constantly.

Daycare Lady’s daughter even painted a large (and slightly Uncanny Valley creepy) portrait of him which now dominates the playroom. It is the Temple of Owl over there.

So why on Earth would I leave?

Oh, right – the fact that we are a $4,000 flight away from our families at Christmas time.

Oh, right – the fact that our parents aren’t getting any younger and are missing Owl’s toddlerhood.

Oh, right – the fact that we have no idea how we will be able to support a second child.

Oh, right – the fact that we definitely have no idea how we would ever afford a larger house than we have now.

If you had asked me three years ago if I wanted to leave Vancouver, would probably would have said yes. I was unhappy with my job, my friendships still felt uncertain, and I was lonely and feeling damaged by years of workplace bullying.

But now I don’t know.

I want to be closer to my family, but I don’t really want to start over in a new city – make friends, put down roots, go through all of that again.

I REALLY don’t want to have to hunt for a new job. My job experiences have been so fraught with stress that I just can’t face it again.

If we moved anywhere, I would want it to be either such a massive promotion that PH could mostly support us on his own, and I could just write or train dogs for extra money on the side, or it would have to be a place with such cheap houses that it amounted to the same thing.

And when it comes to moving back to the Maritimes, well, I have a lot of conflicting feelings.

On the one hand, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick are home to me, and probably always will be.

The clapboard houses, the drifts of snow, and the shabby corner convenience stores are real to me in a way that Vancouver has never been. I see Vancouver as shiny and soul-less by comparison.

Besides, if we moved back there I wouldn’t be facing the making friends issue – I still have friends there, although they don’t have boys Owl’s age the way my friends here do.

But they’re old friends who would pick up with me as if I never left.

On the other hand, I’m a massive snob.

I went through the public school system in Nova Scotia and I shudder at the thought of putting poor Owl through it. Even though I know there are good teachers and bad teachers everywhere, and it’s all just a crap shoot.

I also feel like being a professional dog trainer from Vancouver means something, whereas if I ever wrote a dog training book, the fact that it was written by a trainer in, say, rural New Brunswick wouldn’t do much for my reputation.

Everything in the Maritimes is small, and expectations are low. Businesses tend to have shoddy signs, and websites that use comic sans. People “from away” are looked at with suspicion.

I feel like moving East would be a huge step back for my career, even if it were a step forward for our finances and family life.

This is the stuff I torture myself over. 

I’m happy right now, but like it or not, change is coming – either we have a second child and things get really challenging, or PH actually gets an offer from one of these jobs he applies for, and my entire life will be uprooted, with good and bad consequences mixed right in.

I DON’T LIKE CHANGE.

I’ll Be Home For Christmas… Next Year?

Tags

Christmas, distance, family, traditions, travel

We aren’t going home for Christmas this year.

Not only is it expensive to do every year, but PH couldn’t get Christmas Eve off of work, and since that’s when his family celebrates, it would be $4,000 for him to miss Christmas anyway.

So we aren’t going, even though I’m an only child and my parents will be spending Christmas alone together for the first time in 30 years. Even though PH’s brother just moved back to Nova Scotia, so it would be the first time his entire family would be together in one room since our wedding, and the first Christmas entirely together in… who knows how many years.

We aren’t going, even though my parents have decided that they can’t come here, either, which is what they did in 2008 when we were recovering from the costs of our honeymoon.

My Dad’s health is pretty good overall, considering his age and considering the fact that his two older siblings both died of cancer in the last five years. But he’s not up for travelling long distances any more. It’s too much hassle and he would rather spend a quiet Christmas at home. Even if Owl and I aren’t there.

My mother is depressed about it. Dad thinks it’s time that PH and I developed our own family traditions, had a private Christmas together, but my Mum would say “Eff that!” and come in a heartbeat if she didn’t think that leaving Dad and the diabetic cat alone for Christmas was probably wrong.

I’m… ok.

It’s hard to explain to someone with siblings how close-knit your family unit is when you are an only child. A friend of mine from Toronto happened to be in Vancouver one day so we went to lunch and we ended up talking about it – when you’re an only child, Christmases are quiet and intimate.

People talk about obligatory family spats and awkward moments at Christmas. My ex used to call me in tears on Christmas Day, after his traditional fight with his mother. In blog posts I hear people talk about a family disagreement as if it is as much a part of Christmas as cranberry sauce.

Yeah, I don’t know what that’s about. We have never had a Christmas argument in the history of ever.

In fact, my family’s Christmases are so idyllic that our yearly tree trimming always attracted a few of friends, who enjoyed watching the fire, sipping my Dad’s heavy-handed egg nog, and decorating our tree while Karen Carpenter sang about sleighs and snow.

For the next two weeks my parents would spend every evening sitting by the fire, listening to music, sipping wine and occasionally sighing “what a pretty tree!”

Christmas Eve we would go to the midnight mass and sing Silent Night by candlelight, and then my parents would send me to bed and Santa would come.

Yes, that’s right, long after I achieved adulthood my parents continued to do the Santa thing, because I was still in the place of the child.

Only last year did things begin to change. We got Owl to bed and I participated in stocking stuffing.

This year my parents will just have each other, and since my mother stuffs both sets of stockings, I know she’s going to be bummed right out.

It will be easier on me – I’ll have Owl to think about, and really children are what make Christmas fun.

He’s discovering Christmas, and I love it.

“Yook! Wismus yights!”

“Yook! Wismus tree!”

“Yook! A man a beard. Santa.”

He still doesn’t really understand, though, so we’ll be talking him through Christmas the way we did last year. He understands presents, that’s for sure.

We’re planning a Skype session – maybe if I set up my netbook or my itouch in the right spot, my parents (and maybe even PH’s parents) can watch Owl opening his gifts.

I suspect that won’t be quite the same, though.

Hopefully next year, we’ll be having a White Christmas again.

Happy Face

Tags

art, development, drawing, happy face, toddlers

Owl LOVES drawings of faces. It is his favourite thing. “Draw happy face!” is a command heard multiple times every single day.

He wants us to draw happy face, after happy face, after happy face.

This kid may be an extrovert. He may need a sibling.

And now he’s trying to make his own happy faces. He has seen us draw them so many times that he has the steps down pat:

1. Make circle.
2. Make dots for eyes.
3. Make smile.

Sometimes he adds ears or a hat, when he’s feeling elaborate.

Now, Owl’s artistic skills in general are on par for his age.

He can draw a straight-ish line, or squiggles. If asked to draw, say, an apple, he’s likely to make a single line and say “dere!”.

But his happy faces are getting quite good.

Is it just me or does this look like a tamagotchi?

this one has ears and a “hat”

Smug face

Sad, hunted face

Another One Of Those Dreams

Tags

dreams, sadness, wtf

I have no idea what brought this on, but I’m an emotional mess.

Last night (or this morning) I dreamed that I had adopted a child who (at the time of the dream) was about Owl’s age and with his complexion – blond hair, blue eyes, etc. I wasn’t me in the dream, which is common. My dreams usually involve me being a fictional person living a fictional life. Not sure why.

Anyhoozle, I had this adopted little boy, and he died in his sleep, from undetected cholera (despite having NONE of the symptoms of cholera, but whatever, subconscious).

I was heartbroken and inconsolable and spent, like, the next two days clutching him to me and wailing dramatically, refusing to let him go.

To add to my misery, the baby was fairly famous. Now, as the dream went on his exact identity fluxed several times. At one point, he was Daniel Radcliffe’s younger brother (I was looking for pictures of Danial Radcliffe as a baby to see if he looked like his brother as part of my grieving process). At another point, he was some kind of close relative of Hitler, moved to me for safety reasons.

In all cases he had been adopted from Europe, so I had to go back there for the funeral.

By the time we got there, they said he needed to have a closed casket because he had decomposed enough that he wouldn’t be cute with his casket open. This caused even more despair because I hadn’t expected that and lost the chance to look on his little face one last time (maybe that’s when I googled Daniel Radliffe’s baby photos? Dream is hazy).

It was a bad dream. 

Now, I haven’t been dwelling on the dream all day, but instead I find myself just dwelling on sad things.

I have caught myself thinking in graphic detail about the scene in Mama’s Going To Buy You A Mockingbird when the mother tells the children that their father has died, and imagining how I would weather a similar scenario.

I have caught myself going to pieces over a news article about a couple who adopted a child and had to give her back to her father, who never gave up custody.

Pretty much, anything sad my mind wanders to or is directed to, I dwell on, my empathy going into overdrive until I feel like it is happening to me.

This is apparently what happens when I try to go to bed early and catch up on lost sleep.

NaNoWriMo wore me out, but I WON DAMMIT !

Don’t worry, I am adamantly NOT thinking about that scene from Sophie’s choice.

Learning to Read: Toddler vs Dog – An Update

Tags

development, dogs, first words, intelligence, reading, symbol recognition, toddlers, training

Back in March, I proposed a battle of wits between my baby and my dog.

It didn’t seem so far fetched, back then. Owl was still speaking in mostly single-word sentences, although with signs he often made two or three word combinations. The average dog has been judged to have the intelligence of an 18-22 month old.

My fellow dog trainer has seen dogs who have learned to differentiate between written words.

So!

To be honest, I was sort of rooting for Beloved Dog, because COME ON, that would have been an AWESOME result.

The problem was, it wasn’t really a fair contest. I could work on Owl’s word recognition at various points throughout the day, like after breakfast, and in the bath, plus he got alphabet work at Daycare.

Beloved Dog got maybe a couple of minutes before his dinner every night.

Within a month, Owl had learned to recognize five words: Ball, Apple, Dog, Car, and Foot. Eye gave him some trouble, as did Bear.

I figured out pretty fast that Owl was not recognizing the word as a whole: he was recognizing the word based on the first letter only.

I was disappointed with this result, but he was still doing way better than Beloved Dog.

I managed to teach Beloved Dog to sit when I held up the “sit” card within a single session, and things were looking good. Unfortunately, when I introduced a second word, things went downhill.

Beloved Dog is paying zero attention to the actual words on the cards. He knows that he should sit sometimes, and down other times, but he’s never sure which he should be doing.

I got disheartened and put the cards away, which wasn’t quite fair to him. I should bring them out and work them more, give him another chance, because Owl has left Beloved Dog IN HIS DUST.

I was able to introduce some more written words to Owl’s vocabulary, but Owl continued to recognize them based on first letter. Watch this video, how he’s guessing the word before I’ve even finished writing it, based on the first letter.

In fact, I began to feel that he was getting entirely the wrong idea from his alphabet work at daycare, and now believed that A MEANT Apple, and B MEANT Ball, and so on. So he just dismissed the trailing letters as meaningless.

And then (and I’m still debating the wisdom of this choice) I downloaded a trial version of a toddler iphone app.

Yes, let the judging begin.

Aside: I have very mixed feelings about letting kids use technology like iphones. First, there’s health. Cell phones are known to give out radiation. Now, I don’t have an iphone, I have an ipod, but I’m not sure that’s really the point.

Second, I think that interacting with the real world is an important part of growing up, and that too many video games robs children of active play.

Nor do I agree with people who say that children should be exposed to technology, since they’ll need it to function in today’s world. I didn’t have an ipod until last Christmas, and I learned to use it within days. I didn’t need to start from toddlerhood. It’s not that hard.

On the other hand, videogames aren’t the demons some make them out to be. People who play a lot of video games have been found to have faster reaction times, better decision making skills, and better fine motor control. Put it this way – if you’re ever looking for a heart or brain surgeon, choose one who owns a video game console and plays it regularly.

Anyway, I couldn’t be a hypocrite – I was always playing on that ipod and Owl wanted to play too, so I found something educational and let him at it. The game was First Words Sampler, a free version of several different paid game options. The idea is for the child to take letters scattered over the screen and slot them into  the correct order to spell the word.

So it’s basically a matching game – put the C in the slot that says “C”, and so on. But a voice announced each letter, and when the word is complete, the word is spelled aloud and then a moving picture and an accompanying sound bite of the object in question – a cat meowing or whatever, is played.

Owl loves it. He could play it forever, which is a problem so we don’t let him have it very often.

Then I discovered something. One day while were playing with words on his magnadoodle with the usual mixed success, I wrote out and spelled aloud one of the words from his game. He recognized it immediately.

I found that he could identify all of the words from that game. He sits there and actually puzzles it out, letter by letter, and then announces the word.

Meanwhile, Beloved Dog has learned to spin in a circle on command. So that’s something.

Let’s give them both an A for effort, shall we? That ought to confuse both of them.