Visit to the Doctor's

There was a boy named Devlin. One day, his mother told him he had a doctor's appointment.

"Why?" he asked.
"The doctor wants to check on your health, and see how you're doing, and see if you're growing," his mother answered absently.
"Will the doctor give me a shot? I don't like needles!"
"Oh, I don't know. We'll have to see," she said, while knowing that the main reason for the doctor's appointment was for a routine vaccination.

Devlin, being a smart five year old boy was not fooled by his mother's calm response.

"I will NOT go to the doctor's! She's going to give me a needle!" he screamed as he ran from the room.

Later that evening, he decided on another approach.
"What will happen if I don't get the needle?" he asked.

His parents carefully considered that query.
"Well, if you don't get the needle, then you might get really sick."

"Why?"

"The medicine in the needle has super powers to keep you very healthy. Otherwise, your arm might fall off, or your skin could be covered in green bumps, and maybe your hair might turn purple and fall out!"

"That's okay. I don't like NEEDLES! It is going to HURT! I am NOT going to the doctor's!" he announced emphatically.

Devlin's parents wisely ignored this outburst.

The next morning, his mother gently reminded him about the doctor's appointment. She then dangled the carrot in front of his nose.
"Your daddy will take you to see the doctor, and if you're very very brave, I'm sure Daddy will have a treat for you."

"What kind of treat?" he asked sleepily.

"Who knows? It's a surprise!"

"I am NOT going to the doctor's. I don't want a needle!" he stated as he was now fully awake.

Later that afternoon, Devlin and his Daddy arrived at the doctor's office. It was quite boring for a bit. There was a wait in the waiting room, and then another one in the examination room. Finally the doctor arrived. She chatted with Daddy. Then she turned her attention to Devlin. First she looked in his ears and down his throat. Then she weighed him and measured his height.
Devlin was beginning to think this visit to the doctor's was nothing exciting, until the doctor excused herself for a moment. She returned with a needle and Devlin was now alarmed.
As Daddy and the doctor approached him, Devlin prepared himself for a battle.
With his arms flailing, his legs kicking, he began to cry and scream.
"No, No NO! Don't hurt me. Don't come near me. I don't want a needle."

His daddy grabbed his arms and legs and pulled him close.

"Let go, let go, let go! You're hurting me!" The tears were now pouring out of his eyes.

The doctor also grabbed an arm.

"Let go. I have to PEE! I am going to PEE in my pants! Don't hurt me!" His little face was red.

All of a sudden the doctor stepped back. She smiled, and said "All done!"

Devlin stopped his screaming. He relaxed his little body. He sniffed and looked up.

"What do you mean?"

"All done. You've had your needle and now you can get a band-aid."

"What?" he was perplexed. "I didn't feel anything! It didn't even hurt!"

Meanwhile, I'm sure he was thinking, "Wow! All of that fuss for nothing?"

He looked up at his father as he wiped the remaining tears off his face, and asked, "Was I brave Daddy? I didn't feel anything. It didn't hurt. Can I still get my treat?"

Daddy just rolled his eyes.

Sibling gifts

Ceilidh has given Aisling a gift. One that was not desired nor asked for, but given freely nonetheless. A cold. A nasty cold with a high fever and an irritating cough. A cold that saps the energy from a normally rambunctious 23 month old.
For two and half days, Aisling has been under the weather. Her little body has been burning up with a fever, and it's like holding a hot water bottle in your arms. She's had several cool baths in hopes of bringing down her temperature. Uncle Billy made the observation that it's easy to tell she's not well because instead of running, she's simply walking. She curls up onto the couch or bed, and buries her hot little head onto the pillows. It's a pathetic picture because you know she's miserable. Especially when she buries her head into your chest and croaks "Mommy, I sick. I sick."
While Ceilidh had absolutely no appetite for nourishing foods, Aisling at least showed some interest in her meals. Last night, she gobbled up pesto pasta before devouring her dessert - the cream in the oreo cookies.
After day three on advil and tylenol, her fever finally broke last night. Around 3 a.m., she felt energetic enough to wake me up and greet me with "Hi Mommy! Wake!" But she was also content enough to snuggle back under the covers after draining her bottle of milk.
This morning, she woke up and cheerfully insisted on having her hair blown dry before going to collect her clothes for the day. What a relief...except now she's left with the nagging cough. Which can't be helped because over-the-counter remedies for coughs and everyday colds are no longer available to children under the age of 6 years. With the exception of pain relievers, there really is nothing one can do except suffer through the symptoms. I'm sure I could bring the child in to the doctor's in the hopes of obtaining a prescription, but it's not worth it when you consider the world of other germs and bugs the kids would pick up. So, instead, we hope we'll be successful in convincing Aisling to take a spoonful of honey to calm the cough and soothe the throat. Unfortunately, Ceilidh has the stubbornness of a mule (where did she get that personality trait?) and has refused to ingest anything other than orange juice throughout this whole ordeal.

A bit nervous

The other night, I spent a few hours nervously awaiting a call. From the police or the Children's Aid Society (CAS). Not that my children were injured, or missing, or anything dire like that. I was anticipating the call because of what had transpired earlier that evening.
Devlin had been tired and cranky all day. He woke up cranky. He greeted the start of a new day by throwing a temper tantrum. He spent the first 20 minutes of his waking moments on the naughty stool. By the time I left for work, he was noticeably calmer, but not much happier.
When I returned later in the day, he seemed happy. He appeared to be excited about the evening's swimming lessons. He was enthusiastic during the half hour lesson, especially when he was splashing the instructor. I did not see a single pout mar his features throughout the duration of the class.
Usually after swimming lessons, we indulge in McDonalds. However, we decided to order take out from a different establishment. The children would still eat the same foods - chicken and fries - but there was no toy. That set Devlin off on a major tantrum. I know he was tired. I know the swimming had exhausted him even more. But there was no appealing to Devlin. For the entire 7 minute car ride home, he screamed about wanting McDonalds, about not liking his parents, and how life is unfair (I agree!). To top it off, Ceilidh was shouting "Stop crying Devlin!" at the top of her lungs and Aisling decided to join in the screaming so she wouldn't be left out of the fun.
We arrived home and Devlin was still going at it. We unloaded the girls, the swimming gear and the food. Still kicking and crying. I advised Devlin he was NOT getting out of the car seat until he calmed down. He screamed louder still. I warned him I was going to leave him in the car. He didn't care.
So I left him. I closed the doors and locked the car. We went into house. The girls got their supper. I put the wet towels and swimsuits into the laundry.
Just as I was getting ready to head back outside, I heard the screen door open. For a second, I thought "how did he manage to get out of his car seat?"  Then the doorbell rang. I opened the door to an unfamiliar adult male (i.e. not a neighbour) who attempted to inform me I had forgotten a child in the vehicle. I abruptly replied, "Yes I know. He's having a time-out, so I'm well aware he's in the car. Thanks," and closed the door on his accusatory glare.
As I went out to the car, I could see that man, and his female companion looking back, staring, as they walked away slowly.
Devlin had not calmed down. In fact, in the time I had granted him to settle down, he had thrown his shoes at the front windshield. It took another 10 minutes of crying before he was ready to apologize and enter the house. He washed his hands, apologized to everyone, and eagerly ate up the meal that started the whole mess.
Meanwhile, I nervously joked about getting a visit from the CAS. Maybe it's the nature of my occupation, but I kept peeking out the window half expecting to see a police cruiser parked in the driveway. I mentally prepared my defence - he was strapped in the car seat, the doors were locked, I kept a visual on him at all times, he could not harm himself while having his time-out, he is SO NOT a neglected child - while we adults jokingly got our stories straight should the dreaded call come. Because, you know if they asked Devlin for his version, we'd all be in trouble!
Well, it's been nearly 48 hours, and no surprise visit from the CAS. Maybe I can relax now.

High Five!

My kids love to "high five". They've watched us play ultimate frisbee and observed the high-fiving after a goal. Their swimming instructors and gymnastics coaches give them "high fives" after well-performed task. Each well-executed kick gets a high-five at soccer practice.
The other night, after a long day with crummy weather, short tempers, and way too much energy, it was finally time for bed. Baths were completed, and pyjamas were donned. I was impatient to to put down the three rugrats as it was date night and the grandparents were babysitting. Cuddled in bed with Aisling, I was reading her repertoire of bedtime stories. Unfortunately, the commotion in the hallway kept interrupting us. Both Ceilidh and Devlin were goofing off - wrestling with each other, jumping on the bed, and generally indulging in all sorts of naughtiness. At one point, Ceilidh came in and wailed "Devlin punched me!" My knee-jerk response was "punch him back" as I had exhausted all means of trying to reason with them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ceilidh take off running after Devlin with her arm raised and fist clenched. Within 10 seconds, I heard Devlin crying, and Ceilidh then re-appeared with a big smile on her face.
"High-five Mommy! I want a high-five!" she said with her hand held up in anticipation.
"For what?" I asked.
"I did a good job!", and nodded towards the wailing sounds coming from the next room.

The things they say!

If there's one thing I've learned as a mom, it's that kids WILL say the darnedest things. Mine are no different. Especially when it comes to explaining their actions. For example:

Last night, after a long day of travel to and from London to meet Baby Mia, everyone was tired. Baths were skipped in favour of a quick wipe down with a washcloth, and children were tucked into bed for quick story and bed. Ceilidh had her stories read to her by Uncle Billy. Instead of cooperating by falling asleep, she hopped out of bed and went in search of Daddy for her bedtime story.
Uncle Billy: Ceilidh, the story is the same. You've already heard it once tonight.
Ceilidh: Yes, but I want to hear Daddy's voice read the story.

Ceilidh has also recently acquired a disgusting habit, that many children do and hopefully, will soon discard. She's been picking her nose and then consuming whatever she discovers. GROSS. Short of sticking cotton up her nostrils, we've tried to stop that behaviour. (My mother recently suggested putting vaseline in her nose to discourage this. That's the next step.) When I last caught her doing this, I yelped, "Stop that. It's disgusting. WHY are you doing that??"
Her answer? "Because I'm hungry!"

And while we're on topic of noses...
All 3 children were excited to meet Baby Mia. Devlin was a bit disappointed that Mia turned out to be a girl. He had one serious question to ask me. Pulling me aside, he asked "What is that thing on Mia's belly? It looks like a BIG booger!"

I did explain the purpose of the umbilical cord - that it was to feed the baby while baby was in the tummy. He then asked what did the baby eat? Whatever mummy ate. Well, what did I eat when he was in my tummy? "French fries" was my answer, and he broke into giggles.

Devlin also displayed his foray into diplomacy.
After much discussion about Baby Mia's looks, Auntie Shunaha asked, "Devlin, what colour is Baby Mia? Is she white (like you) or yellow?"
With all seriousness, he answered, "It's very hard to say."

And also, he's developing sarcasm.
Uncle Billy is spending some time with us. I pointed to Uncle Billy's suitcase, and said, "Look Devlin, Uncle Billy is moving in! You get to share your bedroom with him."
While pumping his fist half-heartedly into the air, he quipped "Yay" while looking anything but.

Easter 2010

Generally, we all equate Easter with the season for rebirth. After all, for us Christians, Easter is about the ultimate sacrifice that Jesus Christ made so that we may be saved. Images of furry bunnies, bright daffodils, sunshine, colourful flowers, eggs, tiny little chicks are often associated with the secular Easter season. Not to mention, chocolate. For those of us who live in Canada though, it's often cold at Easter, and those daffodils can only be found at the florist.

This year, Easter brought warm weather, lots of sun and the chance for our 3 monkeys to show off their Easter duds at church. Our brood loved the "snack" they got during church service - communion bread and grape juice. "Yummy" they declared.

There were also lots of chocolate goodies and colourful eggs that were hidden around Grandma and Grandpa's front yard.  Good thing the Easter bunny also brought new toothbrushes.

But best of all, this year, on Easter Monday, we welcomed the arrival of our monkeys' new cousin - Baby Mia. She arrived, after much waiting, at 9:25pm, weighing in at 8 pounds, 7 ounces. Check out the newest member of our growing family. Congratulations to Auntie Shunaha and Uncle Nowell!

Mommy's eyes

I am near sighted. Without my glasses, I can't see much. So far, the kids don't know this, otherwise I'm sure they'd start to kide my glasses so they could get away with more. Since I hate wearing glasses, I must perform a ritual every morning. It's called putting my contact lenses in. For the kids, I call it "putting my eyes in". In the evenings, after I take my contacts out, Aisling hands over my glasses so I can read her a bedtime story.
This morning, Ceilidh woke up and sat in the bathroom while I got ready. As I was preparing to put in the contacts, we had this conservation.
C: Are you putting in your eyes?
M: Yes.
C: That's funny. Like Monsters movie, where the green monster put in his eye but he hurt he-self. (referring to Billy Crystal's character in Monsters Inc.)
M: Uh-huh.
C: Are you done? Can you see now?
M: Yes, I can see.
C: Can you see me?
M: Yep.
C: Am I pretty?
M: Very very pretty!

Best Friends

Even though they are NOT twins, I do believe that, for the time being, Devlin and Ceilidh are truly best friends. They can play together for hours at a time, with Devlin being Ironman and Ceilidh as Strawberry Shortcake. They will play dress up as Buzz Lightyear and Woody, or as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and a Princess. The only times a fight breaks out, usually, is when one or the other becomes too enthusiastic in their playing and "accidently" hits the other.
When we were at the playbarn, Devlin waited for Ceilidh before jumping onto the strawfilled mats below. The two would hold hands before taking their leaps. Or at the Science Centre, Devlin was always looking for Ceilidh to join him in the play area.
During the Olympics, we a watched a variety of events. I did tell Devlin that in no way would he ever be allowed to try skeleton. Which was fine with him. He declared his intention to become a "bombsledder" with Ceilidh. When Auntie Grace explained that co-ed bobsledding wasn't a sport, and he had to have a boy teammate, he voiced his hopes that Auntie Shunaha would give him a boy cousin so they could "bombsled" together. But it's clear that Ceilidh is his first choice for a teammate. The other day, we saw a couple rising a tandem bicycle. I pointed it out to Devlin. He wondered if he and Ceilidh could get a bike like that too.
Ceilidh also thinks of her big brother, especially when we're shopping. If I'm buying her a special treat, she always reminds me to buy one for Devlin.
Since I know this phase won't last forever, I'm going to enjoy these moments. I hope their special sibling bond will endure in the years to come.