I just talked with my parents over FaceTime to congratulate my mom on her retirement today. Cian and Emily were jumping up and down all over the living room pretending to be kangaroos and wishing Omi a "Happy Retirement". It wasn't a long conversation but my kids can both see their grandparents and show them their toys and blow kisses before signing off.
We have talked from people back home in Canada over Skype, FaceTime and Google+. We have had chats with multiple locations in the same conversations (all with video). I get to see pictures of my friend's babies as quickly as my friend's back home get to. I can tweet, facebook, blog and text anyone at almost any time - even with the time difference.
This is amazing to me. Often I leave a FaceTime or GoogleChat thinking that it's straight out of the Jetsons that I can talk and see family back home and how truly incredible that is.
Twelve years ago I moved out of my parents house to a little house in Salima, Malawi. I had no laptop, no phone (smart or otherwise), no iPod, no iPad. I had a Discman with a small portable computer speaker. I had reasonable email access (every day at work if there was power and an internet connection - so not everyday) but it was expensive so I would formulate emails in Word and then quickly log on to the internet to send them to family and friends. I talked to my parents twice in 6 months on the phone. I had one Messenger conversation with my Edmonton girls during that time as well (an even where I had to wake up at 4am and open the office especially to do it - totally worth it).
Granted this was subSaharan Africa and not Australia but when I lived in Malawi more of my friends had cell phones than my friends back home did (and I didn't have a cell phone in either place). Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, Pinterest, Tumblr, Skype, FaceTime and Google+ didn't exist so even if my internet connection was better I wouldn't have used these programs. When I came home from Malawi I remember being astonished that this new thing called a "DVD" was everywhere in Blockbuster when I tried to rent a movie on VHS (the latter two things in that sentence no longer exist).
It is unbelievable how quickly time passes by and how things that you think have always been a part of your life have only had a very short history with you. How many incredible minds are currently imagining what we would consider unimaginable inventions - what will 12 years from now look like?
Friday, 29 November 2013
Sunday, 24 November 2013
Emily's First Concert
Today was Emily's music concert and it was being held at the University of Melbourne. The University is just past the hospitals on Flemington Road which I walk to everyday. We looked at taking public transport but it was a bit convoluted and since it had stopped raining we decided to brave the walk. The concert was at 10:15am which meant that we needed to leave an hour before. We started getting ready 45 minutes before the hour mark and barely left at the allocated time. I believe that leaving the house with children is one of the most difficult things to do.
I have now looked at a map and we hiked a hilly 5km with a double stroller to get to Emily's concert. That's dedication little one. We got to the campus and couldn't find St. Hilda's College which was off the map and only had 12 minutes to get there. We were losing hope we would get there in time. The map on campus was not as accurate as the one on my phone so despite crossing an intersection halfway and then doubling back we made it to the concert with 30 seconds to spare. This is where marriage truly is a partnership as Keith threw me his wallet, I paid for the tickets and he walked in to the room and on to the stage. He walked directly on to the stage because they had called the "babies" and he saw the small shakers that the music teacher had said they would use at the concert and naturally thought it was his group. He didn't realize that the 1-2 class that Emily was in was indeed not the "baby" class. One of the moms from his class saw him go up and went up beside him since they are in the same class. The babies performed 3 songs. Keith and his sidekick knew none of them - good thing baby songs are easy to fake.
So Emily had an extended first concert as she performed her "encore" with her 1-2 group. There are no pics of her smiling - she takes her music very seriously. The 1-2 year old age group got blue ribbons and she is examining hers in the picture below.
The whole concert lasted less than 45 minutes but it was cute to see the different groups and how much they learned about music before age 5. We walked downtown to have lunch and celebrate Emily's concert. Cian picked sushi even though we had sushi the night before (he loves his sushi) but at $2 a roll it's a pretty cheap reward for an "excellent audience member". Emily shared my ominyaki (spelling) and Keith's fries and all in all it was a lovely morning. We took the train back home and in total walked 8.5 km - a cardiovascular artistic endeavour - but worth seeing my little girl shake her maraca on the beat.
I have now looked at a map and we hiked a hilly 5km with a double stroller to get to Emily's concert. That's dedication little one. We got to the campus and couldn't find St. Hilda's College which was off the map and only had 12 minutes to get there. We were losing hope we would get there in time. The map on campus was not as accurate as the one on my phone so despite crossing an intersection halfway and then doubling back we made it to the concert with 30 seconds to spare. This is where marriage truly is a partnership as Keith threw me his wallet, I paid for the tickets and he walked in to the room and on to the stage. He walked directly on to the stage because they had called the "babies" and he saw the small shakers that the music teacher had said they would use at the concert and naturally thought it was his group. He didn't realize that the 1-2 class that Emily was in was indeed not the "baby" class. One of the moms from his class saw him go up and went up beside him since they are in the same class. The babies performed 3 songs. Keith and his sidekick knew none of them - good thing baby songs are easy to fake.
So Emily had an extended first concert as she performed her "encore" with her 1-2 group. There are no pics of her smiling - she takes her music very seriously. The 1-2 year old age group got blue ribbons and she is examining hers in the picture below.
The whole concert lasted less than 45 minutes but it was cute to see the different groups and how much they learned about music before age 5. We walked downtown to have lunch and celebrate Emily's concert. Cian picked sushi even though we had sushi the night before (he loves his sushi) but at $2 a roll it's a pretty cheap reward for an "excellent audience member". Emily shared my ominyaki (spelling) and Keith's fries and all in all it was a lovely morning. We took the train back home and in total walked 8.5 km - a cardiovascular artistic endeavour - but worth seeing my little girl shake her maraca on the beat.
Tuesday, 19 November 2013
Little Boy in a Big Primary School
Keith took Cian to his prep orientation today. I stayed home with Emily so that she didn't have to try to be quiet during the information session and probably Keith didn't want me moping about that my little baby was growing up too fast (I'm having some of those motherhood moments about him going to prep).
Keith said that the orientation was very well organized which is a huge compliment from him since he usually doesn't notice those things. There were older kids greeting them at the door of the school. They asked if Keith and Cian knew which group they were in (the blue group) and if they knew how to get to the Library (which they didn't). One of the students then escorted them to the library. Keith said that Cian was a little clingy in the library but then his "buddy" Nathan showed up. They have a buddy system where an older kid in Grade 4-6 has to apply with a resume to become someone's buddy for prep. That means that they take care of the little kid during orientation and come play with him on his first day of school at recess. I think this idea is adorable. Nathan, obviously a bright boy, gleaned that we were not from Australia and asked how things were going so far and Cian was still a bit nervous until Nathan offered to read him a book and then he was off with Nathan like a shot.
Keith was a dutiful parent and took notes about Cian's school schedule and his uniform requirements (he has to wear a wide-brimmed hat in Term 1 and 4 otherwise he can't play outside). There were talks from the teachers and from some parents about what to expect and how to get them ready. Keith said that it seemed like a really good school (this is a big deal since Keith rarely gives his opinion about stuff unless he's really thought it through especially about education) Meanwhile Cian was going to all sorts of different classes with Nathan and as I came up to the playground gate I secretly took a zoomed-in photo of him and Nathan playing like I was a paparazzi but it was really cute :). Emily and I met the boys outside of the school (Emily having talked my ear off all morning about how "Daddy and Cian WALKED to school") and they finally emerged triumphantly from the primary school doors. Keith said it took a bit longer because Cian wanted to see the "chooks" and Keith had to figure out what that was (it's the Australian word for chicken - I'm sure Cian will teach us all sorts of things from school). He seemed to really like school and is excited to go. I'm still nervous but I have to just take a deep breath and let go. There's no downside to him having extra school especially when he's so excited to go. My little man is growing up and I learn from him everyday.
Keith said that the orientation was very well organized which is a huge compliment from him since he usually doesn't notice those things. There were older kids greeting them at the door of the school. They asked if Keith and Cian knew which group they were in (the blue group) and if they knew how to get to the Library (which they didn't). One of the students then escorted them to the library. Keith said that Cian was a little clingy in the library but then his "buddy" Nathan showed up. They have a buddy system where an older kid in Grade 4-6 has to apply with a resume to become someone's buddy for prep. That means that they take care of the little kid during orientation and come play with him on his first day of school at recess. I think this idea is adorable. Nathan, obviously a bright boy, gleaned that we were not from Australia and asked how things were going so far and Cian was still a bit nervous until Nathan offered to read him a book and then he was off with Nathan like a shot.
Keith was a dutiful parent and took notes about Cian's school schedule and his uniform requirements (he has to wear a wide-brimmed hat in Term 1 and 4 otherwise he can't play outside). There were talks from the teachers and from some parents about what to expect and how to get them ready. Keith said that it seemed like a really good school (this is a big deal since Keith rarely gives his opinion about stuff unless he's really thought it through especially about education) Meanwhile Cian was going to all sorts of different classes with Nathan and as I came up to the playground gate I secretly took a zoomed-in photo of him and Nathan playing like I was a paparazzi but it was really cute :). Emily and I met the boys outside of the school (Emily having talked my ear off all morning about how "Daddy and Cian WALKED to school") and they finally emerged triumphantly from the primary school doors. Keith said it took a bit longer because Cian wanted to see the "chooks" and Keith had to figure out what that was (it's the Australian word for chicken - I'm sure Cian will teach us all sorts of things from school). He seemed to really like school and is excited to go. I'm still nervous but I have to just take a deep breath and let go. There's no downside to him having extra school especially when he's so excited to go. My little man is growing up and I learn from him everyday.
Sunday, 17 November 2013
Cultural Relativism includes Women's Dress Sizes
Yesterday I went to get some more clothes for work. I have tried to do this a few times before with my family in tow; however, that proved...unproductive. An example of the degree of productivity in a women's clothing store with children is Cian finding a "shortcut" directly through the shoe racks and Emily trying to take all the shoes off the rack as to be able to follow him. Needless to say I was not venturing near a fitting room with them in the same store.
So yesterday I went on the train down to CBD (downtown) by myself to get some clothes. I had lots of different things to try on and had a handful of items as I walked in to the fitting room (which of course only allowed me 5 at a time - why is that a rule?) I hate shopping. I have always hated shopping. Anyway, who knows me knows that this is one of my least favourite activities and maybe when I'm a grown-up doctor and making more money I can hire a personal shopper to buy me stuff and create outfits for me in some sort of spreadsheet - I would LOVE that. I made a bit of headway on my hatred of shopping with my friend Deb Evaniuk in Calgary in the summer when I got some really nice stuff and felt good about things but she had to hold my hand through the entire afternoon and put up with all my whining and tugging on clothes. She was a champ and I pretty much need her to come with me every time I go to a store.
I started trying on clothes and my regular size didn't fit. Didn't actually come close to fitting. This was hugely disheartening. Only one of the dresses fit and not very well either and despite all the clothes I had hopefully taken into the change room I left with...yoga pants.
I couldn't understand why nothing fit me since I haven't changed sizes and my pants are loose on me due to all the walking I've been doing. Truly, my walking to TimTam ratio was clearly in the pro-cardio category. I have been feeling really good.
I did not want to continue shopping after that. I was disheartened and there were lots of crowds because it was a Sunday and my "I hate shopping" cloud was getting bigger and darker. I picked up a couple of other things and left the store. I stopped at a couple other stores on my way back to the train station but since there were so many people my difficult-to-muster confidence in shopping crowds was growing infinitely smaller and I just wanted to go home.
Keith was very supportive and encouraging as he always is and said that I should try again when there weren't any weekend crowds (which is a much better idea for a shopaphobic person like me). He also mentioned that maybe the sizes were different than Canada. A lightbulb slowly started to glow over my head and I felt really stupid. Why had I never thought of that? Keith is more shopaphobic than me and HE had thought of it. So I checked online and Canadian dress sizes are FOUR SIZES SMALLER than Australian sizes. That means that my regular 10-12 would be a 14-16 in Australia. Huh...I am feeling pretty dumb about that. Needless to say I am now armed with a little bit more information on my next trip to the clothing store.
So yesterday I went on the train down to CBD (downtown) by myself to get some clothes. I had lots of different things to try on and had a handful of items as I walked in to the fitting room (which of course only allowed me 5 at a time - why is that a rule?) I hate shopping. I have always hated shopping. Anyway, who knows me knows that this is one of my least favourite activities and maybe when I'm a grown-up doctor and making more money I can hire a personal shopper to buy me stuff and create outfits for me in some sort of spreadsheet - I would LOVE that. I made a bit of headway on my hatred of shopping with my friend Deb Evaniuk in Calgary in the summer when I got some really nice stuff and felt good about things but she had to hold my hand through the entire afternoon and put up with all my whining and tugging on clothes. She was a champ and I pretty much need her to come with me every time I go to a store.
I started trying on clothes and my regular size didn't fit. Didn't actually come close to fitting. This was hugely disheartening. Only one of the dresses fit and not very well either and despite all the clothes I had hopefully taken into the change room I left with...yoga pants.
I couldn't understand why nothing fit me since I haven't changed sizes and my pants are loose on me due to all the walking I've been doing. Truly, my walking to TimTam ratio was clearly in the pro-cardio category. I have been feeling really good.
I did not want to continue shopping after that. I was disheartened and there were lots of crowds because it was a Sunday and my "I hate shopping" cloud was getting bigger and darker. I picked up a couple of other things and left the store. I stopped at a couple other stores on my way back to the train station but since there were so many people my difficult-to-muster confidence in shopping crowds was growing infinitely smaller and I just wanted to go home.
Keith was very supportive and encouraging as he always is and said that I should try again when there weren't any weekend crowds (which is a much better idea for a shopaphobic person like me). He also mentioned that maybe the sizes were different than Canada. A lightbulb slowly started to glow over my head and I felt really stupid. Why had I never thought of that? Keith is more shopaphobic than me and HE had thought of it. So I checked online and Canadian dress sizes are FOUR SIZES SMALLER than Australian sizes. That means that my regular 10-12 would be a 14-16 in Australia. Huh...I am feeling pretty dumb about that. Needless to say I am now armed with a little bit more information on my next trip to the clothing store.
The Wonderful Medical World of Oz
**Warning: there are medical terms in this post. There is nothing particularly graphic but I am a gynecologist so remember my idea of graphic language might be relative. **
One of the things I really like about living in Australia is that it's like living in Canada in a parallel universe with warmer weather, palm trees and marsupials. There are many times I think I understand things or it seems similar to home but then there will be a twist. This is often evident in my medical world.
Here are a few examples:
Going to the OR = Going to "theatre" - this sounds ridiculously more posh than the OR. I feel like I should wear a ball gown not scrubs and have learned to contain my giggles every time anybody says it...especially in front of patients, don't worry. Patients are usually distracted by my accent anyway.
Dr. Morris = Amanda - they don't go by Doctor here - everyone uses their first names with patients and with families. I'm not totally sure I love this but it's interesting. Even my supervisor who is head of the department uses her first name. I am slowly getting used to this.
Cesarean section = Caesar. I keep thinking that they are talking about the tomato juice cocktail and it also makes me laugh. Can I get you a Caesar?
Fascia = Sheath.
Tylenol = Panadol
Lupron = Zolidex
Ibuprofen = Neophin
every OCP I've ever used = different name
Vagina = Fanny (seriously!! If only I could convince people to call all body parts by their appropriate names!!!!!) Kids think it's hilarious when I tell them that fanny means butt in Canada.
Pregnant = Up the Duff (hee hee hee)
Public Health Care = Combined Public/Private Hybrid System. I am SO SO SO thankful we live in Canada. You might wait slightly longer for a hip replacement but other than that you know that everyone is treated the same. All Australian citizens are entitled to Medicare but there is private health care on top of that which the government encourages people to use to take the burden off the system. This means that some people look at health care like a consumer product which, in my opinion, does not work well. It also seems to cause people to have a lot of extra personal costs when caring for themselves and their families (ex: an ultrasound outside of the public hospital will be about $150). A lot of private health care only reimburses a portion of these costs. As an outsider it seems like a very complicated system. Royal Children's is a public hospital so that part is a lot easier for me since all the patients are covered by Medicare.
Antibiotics are often given out in 7 day dosages and people need to go back for a refill. This is interesting for me since I can't imagine some of my patients going back to the pharmacy to get a second set of antibiotics. It seems like inappropriate antibiotic stewardship to me and the breeding of resistance but people tell me that Aussie's are just used to having to go back. Just an interesting difference.
There is a big reliance on GPs for primary care. The Pap guidelines here are to screen patients every 2 years and patients get a letter to their house saying that they are due for another Pap test. I see a few adult obstetrics and gynecology patients and if they need a Pap we send them back to their GP! This seems crazy to me since they are sitting right in front of me but that is the practice.
They have stickers here instead of stamping a patients information into the pages of their chart. I LOVE this and wish we had it back home. I know it's not as environmentally friendly but stickers are fun :). (although really are the plastic stamps all that environmentally friendly...food for thought)
Some things are comfortingly similar:
Registrars (residents) have their academic half-day on Friday afternoon, the computer system is confusing, only one person knows how to work it, and only half the people who are supposed to come actually show up. (Thank you to the great registrars that did come to my presentation though!)
Ultrasonographers are not interested in getting you an ultrasound when you want one on a patient when there is a reasonable indication to do so. Then when they get it and there is something interesting they forget that they didn't want to do it.
Emergency will call you with a problem they "think is gyne" but when asked for a diagnosis that might be related to the patients symptoms (which are completely unrelated to their periods) they keep saying "gyne...vagina....gyne...i don't know....who will take her if you don't....what am I supposed to do with her...gyne"
Children's OR has a loose association with time - that seems to be the same everywhere and I am comforted by the consistency. Last week I had a 1:30 case that started at 5:15.
One of the things I really like about living in Australia is that it's like living in Canada in a parallel universe with warmer weather, palm trees and marsupials. There are many times I think I understand things or it seems similar to home but then there will be a twist. This is often evident in my medical world.
Here are a few examples:
Going to the OR = Going to "theatre" - this sounds ridiculously more posh than the OR. I feel like I should wear a ball gown not scrubs and have learned to contain my giggles every time anybody says it...especially in front of patients, don't worry. Patients are usually distracted by my accent anyway.
Dr. Morris = Amanda - they don't go by Doctor here - everyone uses their first names with patients and with families. I'm not totally sure I love this but it's interesting. Even my supervisor who is head of the department uses her first name. I am slowly getting used to this.
Cesarean section = Caesar. I keep thinking that they are talking about the tomato juice cocktail and it also makes me laugh. Can I get you a Caesar?
Fascia = Sheath.
Tylenol = Panadol
Lupron = Zolidex
Ibuprofen = Neophin
every OCP I've ever used = different name
Vagina = Fanny (seriously!! If only I could convince people to call all body parts by their appropriate names!!!!!) Kids think it's hilarious when I tell them that fanny means butt in Canada.
Pregnant = Up the Duff (hee hee hee)
Public Health Care = Combined Public/Private Hybrid System. I am SO SO SO thankful we live in Canada. You might wait slightly longer for a hip replacement but other than that you know that everyone is treated the same. All Australian citizens are entitled to Medicare but there is private health care on top of that which the government encourages people to use to take the burden off the system. This means that some people look at health care like a consumer product which, in my opinion, does not work well. It also seems to cause people to have a lot of extra personal costs when caring for themselves and their families (ex: an ultrasound outside of the public hospital will be about $150). A lot of private health care only reimburses a portion of these costs. As an outsider it seems like a very complicated system. Royal Children's is a public hospital so that part is a lot easier for me since all the patients are covered by Medicare.
Antibiotics are often given out in 7 day dosages and people need to go back for a refill. This is interesting for me since I can't imagine some of my patients going back to the pharmacy to get a second set of antibiotics. It seems like inappropriate antibiotic stewardship to me and the breeding of resistance but people tell me that Aussie's are just used to having to go back. Just an interesting difference.
There is a big reliance on GPs for primary care. The Pap guidelines here are to screen patients every 2 years and patients get a letter to their house saying that they are due for another Pap test. I see a few adult obstetrics and gynecology patients and if they need a Pap we send them back to their GP! This seems crazy to me since they are sitting right in front of me but that is the practice.
They have stickers here instead of stamping a patients information into the pages of their chart. I LOVE this and wish we had it back home. I know it's not as environmentally friendly but stickers are fun :). (although really are the plastic stamps all that environmentally friendly...food for thought)
Some things are comfortingly similar:
Registrars (residents) have their academic half-day on Friday afternoon, the computer system is confusing, only one person knows how to work it, and only half the people who are supposed to come actually show up. (Thank you to the great registrars that did come to my presentation though!)
Ultrasonographers are not interested in getting you an ultrasound when you want one on a patient when there is a reasonable indication to do so. Then when they get it and there is something interesting they forget that they didn't want to do it.
Emergency will call you with a problem they "think is gyne" but when asked for a diagnosis that might be related to the patients symptoms (which are completely unrelated to their periods) they keep saying "gyne...vagina....gyne...i don't know....who will take her if you don't....what am I supposed to do with her...gyne"
Children's OR has a loose association with time - that seems to be the same everywhere and I am comforted by the consistency. Last week I had a 1:30 case that started at 5:15.
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
Bearing Witness to Heroes
In our clinic we see a fair number of patients with severe disabilities. Many patients and families are distressed with the added burden of periods in their pubertal girls and we typically help with menstrual suppression (ie stopping their periods) with medications. I think about these patients on a pretty regular basis for a few reasons:
#1: Where are these patients in Manitoba? I have never seen these patients in Peds clinic back home and I suspect they are being managed by the pediatricians (who are probably doing a great job) but I will happily see them when I get back if needed.
#2: The concerns that I have about Cian's speech do not even hold a candle to what these parents go through everyday. I am a big believer that there isn't such a thing as "misery Olympics" and you shouldn't compare you're grief/struggles with other people because hard is just hard but also there is something to be said for gaining perspective by seeing other people's circumstances and remembering what to be thankful for.
#3: These parents are the most amazing people I have ever met. They trump any quasi-celebrity, top-notch researcher, athlete, etc. I have met in my life and I am AMAZED every time I meet an outstanding parent of a child with severe disabilities. These are people who have no medical background who manage to navigate the complex medical system on a daily or weekly or monthly basis. Who provide round-the-clock life-sustaining care to their children and take huge amounts of pleasure in small victories. They challenge these children to do more than their doctors ever expected of them at the start of their lives and they revel in their joy; whether it be music or videos or the smiles of their siblings. Often these parents get no respite and are with their special needs children 24/7 and learn complex nursing/medical procedures to care for them at home. These are heroic acts of love I see everyday and if I did nothing this whole year but bear witness to that amazing amount of human kindness it would be a year well spent. To these parents: I applaud you, I admire you, you inspire me as a parent and as a human being. I notice how well you treat your child and even though they might not be able to tell you how amazing you are please let me tell you that YOU ARE AMAZING.
#1: Where are these patients in Manitoba? I have never seen these patients in Peds clinic back home and I suspect they are being managed by the pediatricians (who are probably doing a great job) but I will happily see them when I get back if needed.
#2: The concerns that I have about Cian's speech do not even hold a candle to what these parents go through everyday. I am a big believer that there isn't such a thing as "misery Olympics" and you shouldn't compare you're grief/struggles with other people because hard is just hard but also there is something to be said for gaining perspective by seeing other people's circumstances and remembering what to be thankful for.
#3: These parents are the most amazing people I have ever met. They trump any quasi-celebrity, top-notch researcher, athlete, etc. I have met in my life and I am AMAZED every time I meet an outstanding parent of a child with severe disabilities. These are people who have no medical background who manage to navigate the complex medical system on a daily or weekly or monthly basis. Who provide round-the-clock life-sustaining care to their children and take huge amounts of pleasure in small victories. They challenge these children to do more than their doctors ever expected of them at the start of their lives and they revel in their joy; whether it be music or videos or the smiles of their siblings. Often these parents get no respite and are with their special needs children 24/7 and learn complex nursing/medical procedures to care for them at home. These are heroic acts of love I see everyday and if I did nothing this whole year but bear witness to that amazing amount of human kindness it would be a year well spent. To these parents: I applaud you, I admire you, you inspire me as a parent and as a human being. I notice how well you treat your child and even though they might not be able to tell you how amazing you are please let me tell you that YOU ARE AMAZING.
Existential Questions from a Four-Year Old Boy
Tonight I read this book to Cian before bed as he had picked it out at the library:
http://www.veryawesomeworld.com/awesomebook/
It's a really good book - full of things I agree with about dreaming big. It's particularly interesting because Cian has been having some bad dreams about monsters. We talked about how mommies scare monsters away in your dreams so you tell the monsters that your mommy says "Go Away!" and he seemed reasonably satisfied with that answer. Although just before he fell asleep he did confess that I hadn't come to get him in his dream and he started to cry <hearbreak> but I did tell him I would always come and he seemed reassured with that. These are big conversations with Cian as he is not a big talker as some of you know.
Another weird thing tonight was that when we turned to the page with the cemetery of dreams on it - he asked where all the people were. There are loads of pages in this book without people on them but for some reason he thought that page should have people and when I explained that this picture was of a cemetery and that is where people go when they die and their heart stops beating (doctor answer) - he asked specifically WHERE the people were and pointed to the headstones. I said that we bury people under the ground when they die cause they go to Heaven to be with God - just like mommy's grandma. There were lots of "Why?" questions after that and then the question "Why don't you dig her out of there?" which I sort of glossed over. I was not expecting these deep questions from a beautiful whimsical book and I wasn't expecting these questions from Cian who CONSTANTLY surprises me. It is amazing that even as his mother I fall into the trap of thinking his speech delay means he's not thinking. I don't actively feel that way but I have caught myself on several occasions being surprised by his abilities and concepts he understands. This makes sense because he has to work OVERTIME trying to communicate his points that he can't say.
Tonight we're trying to think of good dreams so he decided to be "an octopus who could swim fast and was camoflauged"- case in point.
http://www.veryawesomeworld.com/awesomebook/
It's a really good book - full of things I agree with about dreaming big. It's particularly interesting because Cian has been having some bad dreams about monsters. We talked about how mommies scare monsters away in your dreams so you tell the monsters that your mommy says "Go Away!" and he seemed reasonably satisfied with that answer. Although just before he fell asleep he did confess that I hadn't come to get him in his dream and he started to cry <hearbreak> but I did tell him I would always come and he seemed reassured with that. These are big conversations with Cian as he is not a big talker as some of you know.
Another weird thing tonight was that when we turned to the page with the cemetery of dreams on it - he asked where all the people were. There are loads of pages in this book without people on them but for some reason he thought that page should have people and when I explained that this picture was of a cemetery and that is where people go when they die and their heart stops beating (doctor answer) - he asked specifically WHERE the people were and pointed to the headstones. I said that we bury people under the ground when they die cause they go to Heaven to be with God - just like mommy's grandma. There were lots of "Why?" questions after that and then the question "Why don't you dig her out of there?" which I sort of glossed over. I was not expecting these deep questions from a beautiful whimsical book and I wasn't expecting these questions from Cian who CONSTANTLY surprises me. It is amazing that even as his mother I fall into the trap of thinking his speech delay means he's not thinking. I don't actively feel that way but I have caught myself on several occasions being surprised by his abilities and concepts he understands. This makes sense because he has to work OVERTIME trying to communicate his points that he can't say.
Tonight we're trying to think of good dreams so he decided to be "an octopus who could swim fast and was camoflauged"- case in point.
Monday, 11 November 2013
Walking to Work
I try to (most days) walk to and from the hospital. It's a pretty easy 40 minutes - there are a few bigger hills but it's not exhausting and I feel more awake and invigorated when I arrive at the hospital.
I really get a chance to appreciate everything around me. This morning the walk smelled like roses. Lots of people have roses in their front garden of every size and colour and even from far away I could smell them - the wind must have been traveling just the right way - it was gorgeous.
On the way home the air smelled like gum trees. It's funny how I'm used to that smell now but it still makes me smile. The birds were dancing in between trees chasing each other and the sun was starting to set and it was a beautiful walk down the Stock Path this evening.
Sometimes it's like I'm experiencing everything for the first time again. Like pieces of armour are chipping off after all my hard years of medical school and residency. They didn't seem that hard at the time - I honestly didn't know I was wearing that armour - but it's falling off nonetheless. I feel like I'm remembering a version of myself from early in my University years. Someone who has time to think and look at things creatively. Someone who enjoys learning in a true way without pretense or politics. Someone who has time to smell the roses.
My Sappy Supper
Yesterday I decided to attempt something I never thought I would ever do. My childhood naivete made me think I would never have to do it. That she would always be there to make them for me every time I came to visit. Despite all the hours of intensive labour to make them and how she vowed she would quit doing it if I said I was visiting my Grandma she would break out some secret 4L ice cream bucket of noodles she had stashed some place. They are my absolute favourite. And yesterday I took a giant leap into adulthood and I made them myself.
She had tried to explain how to make them to me before. "It's easy" she would say and then proceed to describe a process that involved unbelievable amounts of eggs and lard and would require a bedsheet as a prop. "You need 12 eggs...." really she always lost me at the 12 eggs because that seemed like such a ridiculous number to use in one recipe. When I would finally snap back in I would hear "then you roll out the dough very thin and lay it on a bedsheet and put it on your bed to dry". All I could imagine was Keith coming to bed exhausted one night with a bed full of rolled-out dough. In fact, when I told him I was going to attempt this his immediate response was "where will I sleep tonight?"
So I set to work. My mom and my aunt didn't have a recipe because my grandmother had written it down the way she told it in oration, from some muscle-memory which words escaped. The recipe my aunt had didn't have flour in it which is an essential ingredient so I looked online for the kielke recipe in the Mennonite Girls Can Cook website (the second one that comes up if you google it not the first). It seemed more manageable as it only called for 2 eggs.
The dough was easy enough and I was patient and let it sit in a plastic ziploc (since I had no saran wrap). It was then time to roll it out and I couldn't find my rolling pin. Usually this is when we send Em into the kitchen cause she magically finds things like rolling pins and corkscrews and all sorts of things we can't seem to find but despite valiant searching we couldn't find it. So I used the only thing found in abundant supply in my kitchen with a spherical shape - a wine bottle. My grandmother would have exasperatedly spanked my behind for that but it made me smile. In case anyone was wondering wine bottles don't do a particularly good job of rolling out dough - stick to the rolling pins.
I cut up the dough into little pieces and boiled it for the suggested few minutes (since it's fresh it doesn't take a long time. I was a bit nervous because I've had some other kielke before and it hasn't really tasted like my Grandma's noodles. I was prepared for disappointment. I made a little tester pot and after the first bite and the subsequent tears I am very happy to report they turned out as close to hers as I could have dreamed of. I made the sauce of grease, grease and more grease (cream, butter, bacon and fried onions) and we had a delicious Mennonite feast. Just like Karen Brown and I used to say "Our ancestors are rejoicing..."
She had tried to explain how to make them to me before. "It's easy" she would say and then proceed to describe a process that involved unbelievable amounts of eggs and lard and would require a bedsheet as a prop. "You need 12 eggs...." really she always lost me at the 12 eggs because that seemed like such a ridiculous number to use in one recipe. When I would finally snap back in I would hear "then you roll out the dough very thin and lay it on a bedsheet and put it on your bed to dry". All I could imagine was Keith coming to bed exhausted one night with a bed full of rolled-out dough. In fact, when I told him I was going to attempt this his immediate response was "where will I sleep tonight?"
So I set to work. My mom and my aunt didn't have a recipe because my grandmother had written it down the way she told it in oration, from some muscle-memory which words escaped. The recipe my aunt had didn't have flour in it which is an essential ingredient so I looked online for the kielke recipe in the Mennonite Girls Can Cook website (the second one that comes up if you google it not the first). It seemed more manageable as it only called for 2 eggs.
The dough was easy enough and I was patient and let it sit in a plastic ziploc (since I had no saran wrap). It was then time to roll it out and I couldn't find my rolling pin. Usually this is when we send Em into the kitchen cause she magically finds things like rolling pins and corkscrews and all sorts of things we can't seem to find but despite valiant searching we couldn't find it. So I used the only thing found in abundant supply in my kitchen with a spherical shape - a wine bottle. My grandmother would have exasperatedly spanked my behind for that but it made me smile. In case anyone was wondering wine bottles don't do a particularly good job of rolling out dough - stick to the rolling pins.
I cut up the dough into little pieces and boiled it for the suggested few minutes (since it's fresh it doesn't take a long time. I was a bit nervous because I've had some other kielke before and it hasn't really tasted like my Grandma's noodles. I was prepared for disappointment. I made a little tester pot and after the first bite and the subsequent tears I am very happy to report they turned out as close to hers as I could have dreamed of. I made the sauce of grease, grease and more grease (cream, butter, bacon and fried onions) and we had a delicious Mennonite feast. Just like Karen Brown and I used to say "Our ancestors are rejoicing..."
Monday, 4 November 2013
My Not-so-Posh Life
Today is Melbourne Cup. A national holiday for the major horserace that happens at Flemington Racecourse which is literally a 5 minute walk from our house. There is a constant hum of helicoptor noise over us and there's been a build up in the city for days. Everywhere you turn there are men in suits and women in beautiful fitted cocktail dresses with open-toed high heeled shoes and hats of every shape and size. They are gorgeous and glamarous and off to the races.
I write about this as I sit at the kitchen table that is covered in leftover lunch. There are dishes piled on the counter despite it being nice and tidy the night before. There is a small surprise in the front entrance where I took off Emily's shoes to find all the stowaway sand. There are clothes all over the bathroom. Evidence that I cannot take a shower without one or both of my children feeling they need to supervise my water consumption usually by playing Ring around the Rosie or the Hokie Pokie around my ankles. Finally after being up since 6am we have braved the attempt at a mid-day nap. Keith is lying down with Cian to convince him of the benefits of napping and to hopefully using his narcoleptic superpowers.
The juxtaposition of me looking out at people walking by my kitchen window in glamarous outfits as they look in at my pile of dishes, frazzled hair and bottomless coffee cup is humbling. There are moments when I long to have endless alone time to get dolled up and go out without the havoc and chaos of my endlessly hyper children. To not have to worry who is touching something or someone they shouldn't. To not hear constant screaming and running. To not have to try to squeeze a little life in between nap time and bath time everyday. Then I remember the grass always seems greener on the other side. It's easy to forget that those messy faces run up to greet me and kiss my knees when I come home from work. That their faces remind me of the joys of seeing things for the first time. Their laughter reminds me not to take the little things so seriously. That I don't need to do all the amazing things I wish I could be doing because they are excited when I sing silly songs in the bath. Parenting is hard...so is a horserace I suspect...mine is just more of a marathon than a sprint.
I write about this as I sit at the kitchen table that is covered in leftover lunch. There are dishes piled on the counter despite it being nice and tidy the night before. There is a small surprise in the front entrance where I took off Emily's shoes to find all the stowaway sand. There are clothes all over the bathroom. Evidence that I cannot take a shower without one or both of my children feeling they need to supervise my water consumption usually by playing Ring around the Rosie or the Hokie Pokie around my ankles. Finally after being up since 6am we have braved the attempt at a mid-day nap. Keith is lying down with Cian to convince him of the benefits of napping and to hopefully using his narcoleptic superpowers.
The juxtaposition of me looking out at people walking by my kitchen window in glamarous outfits as they look in at my pile of dishes, frazzled hair and bottomless coffee cup is humbling. There are moments when I long to have endless alone time to get dolled up and go out without the havoc and chaos of my endlessly hyper children. To not have to worry who is touching something or someone they shouldn't. To not hear constant screaming and running. To not have to try to squeeze a little life in between nap time and bath time everyday. Then I remember the grass always seems greener on the other side. It's easy to forget that those messy faces run up to greet me and kiss my knees when I come home from work. That their faces remind me of the joys of seeing things for the first time. Their laughter reminds me not to take the little things so seriously. That I don't need to do all the amazing things I wish I could be doing because they are excited when I sing silly songs in the bath. Parenting is hard...so is a horserace I suspect...mine is just more of a marathon than a sprint.
Saturday, 2 November 2013
Magic Single Parenthood
Is it ironic to be a single parent because of Magic, the gathering?
Keith has been playing Magic most Friday nights since we started living in Melbourne. Yesterday there was a big Magic tournament and he wanted to play so I had the kids for the day. There were 200 people registered so he was pretty pumped.
The kids and I baked banana muffins in the morning and Emily had gotten up early so she went down for an early nap. I had mentioned the possibility of going to the zoo that day and Cian was very excited about the idea of getting to go see the platypus again but he couldn't rememember the name "platypus" so he just said "the one that swims" and then mimed how a platypus swims which is infinitely better and more hilarious than him remember the name. Now he won't stop talking about the platypus but, to his credit, it is a fun word to say.
Anyway, the kids wanted to go to the zoo and the last time we had gone Keith had gotten a membership but I had not. Their big zoo membership package came in the mail this week with their cards and badges and info and I was feeling very left out that they would get to go on all these adventures and I would have to pay full price until I realized there was nothing stopping me from getting a membership too. In fact, they honoured my admission fee so it was only $50 for a year of zoo fun for me to come along too - totally worth it! Emily woke up from her nap and I was trying to put Em's hair up cause it was hot outside and she kept shaking her head and then she looked me square in the face as I was trying to put her hair in pigtails and said "Mommy no pretty!" I have to say I respected her a lot for that and loved it so much I just slapped a hat on her head and we were off.
I couldn't navigate all the hills with the kids in the stroller by myself so we needed to take 2 trains each way but the kids were amazing little train-riders. The train comes out right at the entrance to the zoo so it was really perfect since after Emily's nap and getting ready we really only had an hour and a half til closing time (yay membership!).
We saw the frogs that the kids had been looking at in pictures at home (Cian showed the people behind us where they were because they were hiding). I also did one of my most selfless acts as a mother. We went into the reptile house and in a whirlwind trip (due to my increasing levels of anxiety) saw all the lizards, crocodiles and snakes. Cian was very excited at seeing the snakes. I was not that happy about the idea of him being that close to the snake cages and kept envisioning that scene from Harry Potter where he speaks Parseltongue and the snake comes of the cage. Bleh - we got out of there as quickly as I could pull Cian away. They will have to explore it in detail with their dad.
We saw our very favourite animal - the Platypus. She (we found out she was a she this time) is extremely adorable scrounging around for food. It's pretty amazing to see one live. Also in the information video outside the platypusary they said she is one of the most expensive animals to keep in a zoo cause she eats $13,000 worth of food a year. Basically she's a diva. Keep up the good work diva platypus - we love you.
Later Cian ran into the butterfly house despite me telling him not to and I had to chase him with Emily in the cart. He does not seem to be phased by the lost incident but I definitely am. I made him sit in the cart as we exited the butterfly house and then when we went over to where they feed the elephants they had closed the windows and I pulled a mama move. I told him that the zoo had closed the elephants because he didn't listen to me and went into the butterfly house. He was very unhappy about this and remained in the stroller ... until we turned the corner and he saw the elephants outside. But it did make somewhat of an impact because he was very well-behaved after that.
They were starting to close things up at that point and Cian wanted to see the seal before we go so we swung over that way and found the seals hopping out of their big pool. They were jumping in and out of the water having a great time and it was super fun to watch. A perfect end to the blitz trip to the zoo.
We came home and had supper and bathtime and then read "Wombat went a-walking" and off to bed they went. A great day filled with animals both real and literary.
Keith has been playing Magic most Friday nights since we started living in Melbourne. Yesterday there was a big Magic tournament and he wanted to play so I had the kids for the day. There were 200 people registered so he was pretty pumped.
The kids and I baked banana muffins in the morning and Emily had gotten up early so she went down for an early nap. I had mentioned the possibility of going to the zoo that day and Cian was very excited about the idea of getting to go see the platypus again but he couldn't rememember the name "platypus" so he just said "the one that swims" and then mimed how a platypus swims which is infinitely better and more hilarious than him remember the name. Now he won't stop talking about the platypus but, to his credit, it is a fun word to say.
Anyway, the kids wanted to go to the zoo and the last time we had gone Keith had gotten a membership but I had not. Their big zoo membership package came in the mail this week with their cards and badges and info and I was feeling very left out that they would get to go on all these adventures and I would have to pay full price until I realized there was nothing stopping me from getting a membership too. In fact, they honoured my admission fee so it was only $50 for a year of zoo fun for me to come along too - totally worth it! Emily woke up from her nap and I was trying to put Em's hair up cause it was hot outside and she kept shaking her head and then she looked me square in the face as I was trying to put her hair in pigtails and said "Mommy no pretty!" I have to say I respected her a lot for that and loved it so much I just slapped a hat on her head and we were off.
I couldn't navigate all the hills with the kids in the stroller by myself so we needed to take 2 trains each way but the kids were amazing little train-riders. The train comes out right at the entrance to the zoo so it was really perfect since after Emily's nap and getting ready we really only had an hour and a half til closing time (yay membership!).
We saw the frogs that the kids had been looking at in pictures at home (Cian showed the people behind us where they were because they were hiding). I also did one of my most selfless acts as a mother. We went into the reptile house and in a whirlwind trip (due to my increasing levels of anxiety) saw all the lizards, crocodiles and snakes. Cian was very excited at seeing the snakes. I was not that happy about the idea of him being that close to the snake cages and kept envisioning that scene from Harry Potter where he speaks Parseltongue and the snake comes of the cage. Bleh - we got out of there as quickly as I could pull Cian away. They will have to explore it in detail with their dad.
We saw our very favourite animal - the Platypus. She (we found out she was a she this time) is extremely adorable scrounging around for food. It's pretty amazing to see one live. Also in the information video outside the platypusary they said she is one of the most expensive animals to keep in a zoo cause she eats $13,000 worth of food a year. Basically she's a diva. Keep up the good work diva platypus - we love you.
Later Cian ran into the butterfly house despite me telling him not to and I had to chase him with Emily in the cart. He does not seem to be phased by the lost incident but I definitely am. I made him sit in the cart as we exited the butterfly house and then when we went over to where they feed the elephants they had closed the windows and I pulled a mama move. I told him that the zoo had closed the elephants because he didn't listen to me and went into the butterfly house. He was very unhappy about this and remained in the stroller ... until we turned the corner and he saw the elephants outside. But it did make somewhat of an impact because he was very well-behaved after that.
They were starting to close things up at that point and Cian wanted to see the seal before we go so we swung over that way and found the seals hopping out of their big pool. They were jumping in and out of the water having a great time and it was super fun to watch. A perfect end to the blitz trip to the zoo.
We came home and had supper and bathtime and then read "Wombat went a-walking" and off to bed they went. A great day filled with animals both real and literary.
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