Category Archives: The Boy

Doctor And Otherwise General Update

The boy and I made our annual pilgrimage to the doctor yesterday. And it is a pilgrimage indeed, because it’s now a 100-km round trip. Find a new family doctor in our new area, you say? Ha. There is a severe GP shortage in our province, our new neighbourhood is reputedly particularly bad for GP waitlists, and I intend to keep our awesome family doctor until she retires, thank you. Besides, so long as I combine the doctor trip with other errands out west like visiting or shopping or a cello lesson, it’s fine.

The boy now weighs 42 lbs and is 110 cm tall (oh, Canada, how we love you, operating with one foot firmly in Imperial and one in Metric). I enjoyed his appointment because he could answer the doctor’s questions himself: Does he wear a helmet when he rides his bicycle? (Yes, and now he rides a two-wheeler, and the first day he almost fell off this side, and then that side, but then he did it, and he and Dada had a race, and he can ride without balancing on training wheels, right Mama?) Does he drink a lot of milk? (Yes, and Mama found milk boxes at the supermarket, so he can take milk to school! [Mama bought a small Rubbermaid straw bottle to pack milk in instead, because the milk boxes are stupidly expensive. Mama is also seriously considering investing in the dairy trade, or failing that, buying a cow.]) Does he always wear a seatbelt in the car? (Yes, of course, but there are no seatbelts on the school bus, they just have to sit in the seats and not move.)

I am not dead. I am, however, back on my fibro meds, and have a couple of tests to schedule. Back on the meds means I will be loopy for a couple of weeks before it all settles again, but hey, I am loopy without them, kind of stumbling around and unable to focus on much, so at least this upcoming loopy will be working towards something better.

I’m drawing up a proposed table of contents and a sample chapter for a new book that my editor suggested to me. I’m really interested in the idea and concept as it was presented to me, so we shall see what happens. More as that evolves.

I finished spinning the three one-ounce batts of gloriously soft black Shetland that Bonnie gave me. Some of it is overspun because I lost track of how quickly I was treadling, and I might have done better if I’d gotten to know Lady Jane with a fibre and preparation I’m more familiar with, like my standby Corriedale combed top. The Shetland was lovely to work with regardless. I might ply the resulting light fingering weight single with black silk thread to make it go farther, then knit lace fingerless gloves or something. Chain-plying it seems a waste. Whatever I do with it, I might run it from one bobbin to another to even out the twist first.

The boy helped me choose what to spin next. I’ll do the four ounces of hand-dyed BFL top from Ariadne Knits in purple and green like wood violets, and spin it finely enough to knit a light wrap for myself. I may think of doing a single plied with a silk thread binder on purpose this time, although my original plan was to spin it super-finely and chain-ply it to preserve the colour changes. We’ll see.

It’s the day of the boy’s first Terry Fox run, so we talked to him about who Terry Fox was and why we honour his memory by having a run to raise money for cancer research every year. Today also happens to be the semi-annual blood drive at HRH’s college, where he encourages as many of the kids as possible to accompany him to the collection area. Talking about these things segued into a discussion about what a hero is, a very interesting conversation to have with a five year old. I wonder how many other families plan to take their kid to the local blood bank offices on their seventeenth birthday to get their blood donor cards. The boy is very impressed by Terry Fox, and drew a picture of a fire-fighting plane for him this morning before he headed off to school.

Okay, back to work. I’ve got a document open for notes about this new book as they occur to me, and I’m about to open the repurposing project. It should be interesting, as I took an allergy/sinus pill this morning and have been in that wonky state that pseudoephedrine always sets me in ever since. Thankfully, the gastro/nausea has faded. I’ll set up a plate of crackers and the rest of the duck pâté that we didn’t finish on Sunday, put the bread in the oven, and bury myself in work as best I can till I have to meet the boy.

First Update: The Boy

Okay, here’s a series of updates. It was going to be very general, because there hasn’t really been anything of substance in almost two weeks, but I’ve broken them up into themed posts.

First up: The boy!

Kindergarten is going swimmingly for the boy. He’s settled in so well with his teacher, classroom, school bus, and new friends (because remember, everyone he meets is a new friend) that we’re a bit at a loss, because we were bracing to deal with at least one tricky bit somewhere. I forgot to put dessert in his lunch on Friday (worst mum of the year award goes to… me!) and stopped by the school on my way to do groceries with a homemade cookie. I’d intended to just drop it off but the office called him right down, and he showed up in a tumble of fun with his bestest new friend, colourful hall passes around both their necks. He looked at me oddly and said, “Um, Mama? What are you doing here?” as if he couldn’t process the fact that I was in a place where I usually wasn’t. Didn’t even get a kiss or a hug after I passed him his care package; he ran off again with his friend back to class after an “Okay, bye Mama!” Yeah, he’s fine.

Two weeks in kindergarten and he’s sounding words out on his own. I know a lot of this comes from the incredible amount of prep we did with him about sounding words out while reading, but all it took was Someone Not Mum or Dad to really get it going. I’m thrilled at how wholeheartedly he’s throwing himself into school. We didn’t doubt, but we did secretly worry; what if he didn’t like his teacher? What if kids on the bus were mean? What if, well, anything? But all is well.

All is so well, in fact, that HRH went and joined the parental governing board. You see, the parent welcoming meeting and class curriculum meetings after it were scheduled on the same night as my first orchestra rehearsal, so HRH went to the school meeting. “I promise not to join too many committees, ha ha ha,” he said on the way out. I figured it would be sensible to wait a year to get a feel for the school, and he thought the same. Except, he said apologetically when I got back, there was one position left open on the board, and no one was volunteering for it, so…

We have been reading the Guardians of Ga’Hoole series of books before the boy’s bedtime at night, and we’re loving it. We are very excited about the movie coming out next weekend. The boy has already been asking for the music, and I have had to tell him that we can’t buy it until the Tuesday before the film comes out. He told me that it wasn’t fair that I had two owls and he had none, so he tried to wheedle me into buying a dreadful one at the grocery store, but I said I knew of a much better one. We went to the bookstore that afternoon and he bought his very own lovely silky stuffed owl, whom he has, of course, named Soren, even though it is a Barred Owl and not a Barn Owl. And also on the book front, he brought home his first Scholastic book order form, and I was terribly excited until I opened it. It’s all… so young. We don’t read many 3-5 year old books any more. There is a book on the planets, and a Scaredy Squirrel book we don’t own; we may order those. But I was pretty disappointed in 99% of the flyer.

Kindergarten: Day Three

The boy got on the right bus on the way home, and got off at the right stop. We have a successfully completed Mission: Kindergarten Integration. (Achievements unlocked: School Bus Passenger, Elementary School Kid. Rating: Awesome.)

Reports from the boy have included:

    “The bus ride was REALLY AWESOME! It was bumpy, because there were lot of bumps.”

    “I sat with another boy.” ( “Can you tell us his name?” “No, because I didn’t ask.” “Tomorrow, tell him your name, then ask his.” “Okay!”)

    “I sat with the boy again! He let me sit next to the window!” ( “What is his name?” “Well, I can’t tell you, because I asked, but I forgot it.”)

    “We saw all the offices! And met all the people! And Mr. Chris is our gym teacher!”

    “There’s a girl in my class!” (Yes indeed, and there ought to be more when both halves of the class are together for the first time on Monday.)

    “Mama, Mama, when we sit for circle time we do a hop and kick and cross your legs!” (When he tried to demonstrate, he almost fell over when his legs tangled.)

Goodbyes have been conducted with vigorous waving, and so have hellos, complete with smiles. Indeed, this child has had zero problems with new school, new teacher, and new friends. And yes, he refers to everyone as his new friends, and I wish that as an adult we still had that outlook. Tuesday is his first full day, which should be interesting for everyone.

As for the house, the first round of painting is complete; the downstairs hallway will get done when we build the new stairway and repaint the current one. There is art on the walls of all rooms but our bedroom and my office (my collage wall takes a while; I’ll have key pieces up by the end of the weekend). HRH is off picking up a secondhand bentwood and wicker settee for the living room, which will do for now until (if) I find something small and light enough to replace it. The heavy vertical blinds have been removed from the kitchen, living room, and my office, replaced by our light bamboo blinds and in my office a light green linen curtain. The pot rack is up (the ceiling is plaster and lathes!), and HRH has moved the hinge from one side of the fridge to the other. Hilarity has ensued as all of us continue to reach for the old side and come up short.

It’s Friday night, so it’s homemade pizza night. Off I go to mix up the dough.

Kindergarten: Day Two

First time on the school bus!

Just like he’d done when going to preschool for the first time, he bounded away and I had to call him back for a hug. HRH and I watched the bus pull out, the boy’s face sporting a big grin as he took his seat; we waved madly as the bus went down the street, and yes, I felt that wrench.

I didn’t cry till forty minutes later on the highway on the way to do groceries, though. And I sat there at a red light with tears on my face, wondering why. I think it has to do with the huge step he’s taking, going somewhere on his own and making his own way through new situations. I can empathise with the enormity of that, and how overwhelming it can be at times when you least expect it. Getting on that bus for the first time symbolizes quite a lot. He is strong and cheerful and brave and social, and I don’t anticipate problems with him adjusting at all, although I fully expect his sensitivity will raise a few interesting questions about the other children’s behaviour. He’s already having a fabulous time with the whole idea of the bus and school, and eager to meet new friends.

I’ll pick him up from his half-day at lunch, and I expect to hear a lot of enthusiastic but slightly garbled reports.

Kindergarten: Day One

Five loads of laundry Tuesday night, three yesterday, two today. I know, my life is so scintillating. The washer seems to use warm water when set on cold, though, and vice versa. One suspects the inlet hoses were reversed between the source pipes and the machine intakes during installation. One must tactfully suggest this to the resident installer and request a fix. [ETA: Ah. Turns out the cold water intake on the machine was marked with red. I’d have absolutely been with HRH, then, in assuming that was the hot intake. Problem solved.]

I am suffering from the worst allergies I’ve had in ages, which is saying something because I used to get weekly allergy shots to combat them. I know I’m in a new geographic location and every region has its own pollen profile to which one must accustom oneself, but this is awful. I’m not alone, though; it seems to be hitting across the board in southern Quebec. I’ve lost track of how many allergy pills I’ve taken and when, which is not the most ideal of situations. My sinuses and throat are grumpy, grumpy customers, and my temper’s not the best, either.

Speaking of which, I was feeling rather guilty that I had the boy home for all of four days and was already looking forward to school beginning. The prep, the packing, the move, and the unpacking drained me of energy and cope, and the poor kid, who has actually been in a fabulous mood, has been bearing the brunt of it. We’ve had a few I’ll-finish-this-then-play-with-you, Mama-Mama-Mama-Mama, I-TOLD-you-I’d-be-there-when-I-was-finished-you’re-just-making-it-take-longer moments, but both of us have emerged relatively unscathed. We’re in the middle of an honest to goodness heatwave, and the boy inevitably selects the high-heat part of the day for playing outdoors. But the basement is cool, the DVDs are my friend while I finish the last of the unpacking, and we’ve run errands each day as well that get us out of the house.

We asked the delivery guys to leave us one of the appliance boxes. The boy played with one in the backyard all yesterday afternoon. I cut a door and a window for him, and he dragged it under the lilacs behind the play structure and used it as a command module. Eventually it got dragged forward to the end of the slide and he slid into it for a while, crowing with his unique giggle. Hours of amusement in a cardboard box.

Today was Day One of the three-day progressive entry for kindergarten. We packed up all our school supplies in the boy’s new backpack and met his new teacher and a third of his classmates for an hour. Tomorrow he takes the school bus in and I meet him at lunch to take him home, and on Friday I take him in after lunch and he buses back. There are seventeen kids in his class, twelve of them boys. Mrs Lisa, his teacher, said brightly that it was going to be an… active class, and all the parents snickered. He’s already seeing the other boys as his friends, and at least two of them are on his bus, so that will help. (One of these co-bus passengers has his full name, and the other his nickname, so we three mums are already foreseeing a little trio of proper noun terror happening.) It was interesting to watch the small group of boys explore the classroom while the teacher explained some of the routine to us. They were given their choice of four activities, and they all headed for the Lego and cars without hesitation. After fifteen minutes of that, the boy got up and moved to the book corner where he sat down in one of the comfy chairs and opened a book. One by one the other boys followed. After fifteen minutes in the book corner he moved back to the Lego, then to explore the play kitchen area, and he was followed again. He ended up back at the book corner while two boys rummaged through the play kitchen, one boy went to read as well, and one went back to the Lego. It was nice to see that he felt comfortable and confident enough to move on when he felt like it, and not wait for someone else to demonstrate that it was okay. It was also reassuring to see that he was taking his time, too, settling down to involve himself in each activity for a decent block of time instead of running from one to the other. He got to play in the playground afterwards, too, and one of the boys stopped by with his dad on their way down the street, and the boys did a few circuits of the play structure together, and waved and shouted goodbyes when they left in their respective cars. All in all, it was a terrific experience.

I took him to Tim Hortons for lunch as a treat, and we shared a ham and cheese sandwich. He downed his carton of milk in one go. I think I’m going to have to buy a cow. Or perhaps shares in a dairy farm.

The obligatory photos:

That’s a double thumbs up from the kindergartener as we head off.

Tomorrow is Day Two: The Bus Trip To School.

Point-Form Randomness

1. We have a washer and dryer being delivered on Monday. HRH will hook them up that night, and then Tuesday? Tuesday I will revel in washing towels made filthy by the move and the post-move week. Probably just in time to find the box of extra towels and sheets somewhere.

2. HRH is assembling the BBQ. His dad went all out: there’s a propane tank, lava rocks, and charcoal, plus an extra grill to put in above the main grill. I should probably root about in the freezer and find something for supper, shouldn’t I.

3. I finally got to sort all the boxes of baby clothes. I dragged them all out of storage and sat outside on the grass while the boy played, separating things into piles to donate to the Compassion people, and a pile of Keep Because It’s Awesome (I cannot give away any of the things with foxes or trains on them that my mum got from Gymboree, I just can’t). So tiny! I handed the boy his first pair of Robeez slipper shoes and they were smaller than his hand. I cut things down to a third of what we’d had. The boy sorted through the box of baby toys, too, quality-testing everything for Ada when she visits. (He also voluntarily sorted my pincushion for me that morning. Very helpful indeed.)

4. HRH painted the kitchen last night. All of it. Both coats. And he freehanded the trim. The man’s a miracle, I tell you. Apparently tonight’s the hallway.

5. The boy’s last day of preschool was fine. I think it was harder on us and his educator than on him. They did their best to make it a regular day, and they sent him home with a box that proved to have his three favourite toys in it (including the black and white stuffed cat he called Maggie that the educator had to actually separate him from early on because he was getting too attached to it); a photo of him, his best friend, and their educator; and the name tag from his Superman naptime mat. We were very touched. HRH said he was going to miss them, and no wonder; he saw them twice a day for two years, spent a lot of time talking with them morning and afternoon, and we shared the raising of our child with them, after all.

6. Our first visit to the local ice cream parlour last night (recommended to us by the preschool!) was incredible. HRH had maple ice cream that had real tire and maple sugar nuggets in it. I had espresso ice cream that had shards of good chocolate and crushed coffee beans in it. The boy revelled in sickly-sweet Rolo ice cream. Apparently they close for the fall and winter, and that date’s coming up in mid-September. Sounds like we’re going to have to get a lot of ice cream visits in over the next two weeks.

7. Gryffindor has finally gotten over his fear of the stairs and now runs up and down with us. He’s not entirely comfortable in the house yet, though; he’ll often sit in the storey we’re not in and yowl until we call him to us. The girls are fine and have been since day two.

8. My stamina is shrinking by the day. Now I can only go for brief bursts of unpacking and rearranging before I fall over. It’s very frustrating.

Okay, enough. Now beer, and watching HRH assemble the BBQ.

Last Day

It’s the boy’s last day of preschool today.

I’ve known this was coming all week. I was preparing for it, doing the last of the kindergarten shopping, scheduling the gift-buying for his educator, and so forth. But it wasn’t until last night when we picked him up and they told us that it was going to be an end-of-summer fiesta/birthday for one of the kids/our boy’s farewell party that it really hit me. One last drop-off; one last pick-up.

I’m going to miss them. They’re fabulous people, and they’ve done wonderful work with the boy. Numbers, letters, songs, attention span and focus, helping out, French, socialization, skills and techniques; they know their stuff. Even though he’s not officially attending after today, now that we’re in the neighbourhood I know that we’ll see them often enough. Heck, they’re coming to our housewarming party; I think we’re booked to help stain their fence next spring. The boy has an open invitation to hang out on any Friday night at the new TGIF for kids thing they’re doing outside of the regular daycare hours to give parents a night off for themselves or to run errands without handling a squirmy child (and upon being told that there would be Friday night babysitting available, all the kids planned for a pyjama night there with pizza at some point amongst themselves and informed the educator). And they’ve stressed that we have an open invitation to drop by after school any time, which just happens to be across the street.

The boy is excited. He’s been looking forward to the party today (there is a pinata and he is determined to be the one to whack it open), and he’s excited about kindergarten next week. He did a lovely picture for his educator at the kitchen table this morning, with great printing (look at that spacing!) and a picture of a robot, his car and trailer, and a robot bug ( “But not a bad robot bug,” he said to me. “It doesn’t sting or bite.” “I know it’s a good robot bug,” I said, “because you’ve put a smile on it.”).

He’s grown so much over the past two years there. About a year ago his main educator told HRH that if she got him through to kindergarten without having to take him to the hospital with a broken bone she wanted a medal. Well, we haven’t gotten her a medal; we think we’ve done something better. We’re going to present her with a gift certificate for the nearby Spa Strom so she can treat herself to a day of relaxation and pampering. We figure she totally deserves it after corralling him for twenty-four months, along with ten other kids.

Tonight we’re having a special dinner to celebrate the end of preschool: steak, roast potatoes, steamed broccoli with cheese sauce, and we’ll walk to the nearby ice cream parlour (recommended by his educator!) for a dessert treat. Next week we have two days off together, and then an hour-long private meeting with his new teacher on Wednesday, a morning half-day on Thursday where he’ll take the bus in and I’ll pick him up at lunch, and an afternoon half-day on Friday where I’ll drop him off after lunch and the bus will bring him home. On one of those days we’ll go get new library cards from the local branch, and stop to play at the big playground we pass that’s halfway between school and home.

First days are hard. But so are last days. Sometimes, though, you don’t realise it for a little while.