Monday, September 17, 2012

A Return and Updates

It's been a long time since I've blogged. I spent the summer with my brain on neutral. It's not a pleasant feeling and not one I am used to, but I literally couldn't write a thing if I had wanted to. It just wasn't there. It's not that we didn't do things (we did LOTS!), but my brain was quiet and my fingers followed suit.

The beginning of September has come and gone. The boys are in school again, Beavers began last week, and this week swimming lessons start up. Our schedule is shaping up.

Xander has meandered off to school with great confidence. I sometimes wonder who that boy is, when he asks to cut across the field and join the crowd outside of the doors? He still talks about not wanting to go to school, but his actions speak louder. He can't wait to get there! My social butterfly loves being with his friends, and his active brain is happiest in school. Not that he doesn't like to laze around and watch television on the weekends, mind you, but this is a happy kid who goes to school.

Liam has had a rougher time adjusting. It is his first year and he has only gone for one week now, instead of the two that are under his brother's belt. Liam also takes longer to warm up to activities in general. It's just who he is. He does like his teachers, and he comes out grinning from ear to ear, so I think he will be okay. So far, he talks about library, gym, music, and the caterpillars (the class has caterpillars that are making cocoons and becoming butterflies; I believe there are three butterflies at last count). On our walk to school this morning, we met one of his classmates and the two of them were grinning at each other. I think that is another positive sign.

Unlike Xander, Liam is in the new all-day-every-day kindergarten program. For Liam, this means a consistent schedule (the old program was Monday and Wednesday or Tuesday and Friday with random Fridays thrown at both), a play-based program, and a fair bit of adjustment from last year's 2 afternoons a week at preschool. For me, it means a lot of time on my hands and missing his little presence.

I've gotten used to having Xander at school. Liam not so much. Frankly, I am a little bored without him. This is an adjustment for me too.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Working Friday: Niche

I've decided that I don't talk about work nearly enough, so I am instituting a Friday theme on work.

Here is the thing about writing and editing: it's a pretty open field. You can do almost anything in communications: work for big business, banks, newspapers, magazines, and even freelance. There's volunteering, interning, contract, and in-house work. Most of us do some combination of these or all of these things at any given time.

I've worked as both an editor and a writer in technical documentation. I've volunteered for the newsletter of a non-profit organization. I've edited PhD dissertations (copy editing, mind you), the Ministry of Education papers, and role playing game manuals. I've done resumes, web pages, and SEO articles. I've blogged for pay. I've written a magazine article.

It's quite a variety. Here's what I have discovered about myself: I am incredibly attracted to editing because I like making a piece that was decent into something fabulous. However, I've also been stiffed the most when I do editing. Since I cannot eat my fingers or pay the mortgage with monopoly money, I tend to steer away from editing these days. Turns out I am practical like that.

I love that I can get information from people and make it into something that stands out. When I wrote about purified water in manufacturing industries, it was amazing to mine the information from industry experts and put together an article that was concise and readable. My Mother read it and understood what they were doing and how! (Mom is a nurse and has no background in water processes at all.) When I read something that makes my eyes glaze over, I know that this is not the kind of writing I want to produce at all. I am obsessed with readability, audience, and presentation.

Writing, editing, interviewing and researching are skills that are transferable from one end of the writing spectrum to the other. So why do I have a hard time keeping my freelance business afloat?

I've been doing work on this question. It seems that one reason for my lack of work is a lack of niche. As a generalist, it is harder to sell my skills. I've spent time reading articles about niches and talking about the kind of work I like to do the most. After a lot of conversation, thinking, and writing, I have a handle on where I am going.

I've enjoyed writing articles the most, whether they were for SEO or magazines. With a background in technical writing and a vast interest in projects in and around the house, I am gunning for the DIY market. I'm also interested in writing on health topics and parenting themes. So, as I develop my focus, I am striking out again and pushing back at an industry that leaves me flying high one moment and laying flat on the ground the next. It's a wild ride, but it's my path. If you have any connections or suggestions, I am happy to take all the help I can get.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Manners, manners everywhere...

I've been selling things on Kijiji. We have a load of extra things that we no longer need: an outgrown tricycle (both kids are on bikes now), a fishbowl left behind by the previous owners, and our jogging stroller (if the kids don't need a tricycle, they sure don't need a stroller!), to name a few. I go through this stage about once a year and slowly the stuff trickles out of the house and a bit of cash trickles in. It's a good deal, because I get a bit of space back too.

However, I am constantly amazed at the lack of manners and common sense that people display when buying items off the internet. The questions! Think it through: if I have a jogging stroller up for $50, what is the likelihood that it is either a big brand name (if it was, I'd have posted that too) or has an attachment for your car seat? If you are looking to push your child in a stroller that is meant for rougher terrain and can be used while you exercise, this is your deal. If not, move along. I am okay with it not being the stroller for you. ;) When you ask me if your 2 year old will fit on my tricycle, I am going to have to ask you how big your 2 year old is. It's a tricycle, so it will either fit your child now or he or she will grow into it. Asking me if I can knock 25% off the price makes me feel like telling you I can do that, but I will have to remove the handlebars first.

But when you ask to see it and I give you my phone number, please reply. Even if you found something else, it's okay. A seller isn't mad about that. I promised you nothing. But isn't it plain good manners to reply with "thank you for your information, but I am not interested"?

Though my snarky answers to your questions are on the tips of my fingers, I am polite and reply with the information you have requested. Please return the favour and be polite back.

I wonder sometimes if the internet has made our interactions with each other less polite. If somehow it has made us forget that there are manners here too. I've seen it on Facebook, message boards, and in texting. Somehow, because the other person isn't in front of us, we feel free to let basic manners go. I've actually been called names over my opinions/suggestions/experiences on Facebook before! And I have seen people refer to other people in such rude terms that it made my eyes bug out.

So, let's remember what our parents taught us: say please and thank you; use a little common sense; if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all, and try to treat people as you would like to be treated.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Sharing a Room

My boys share a room. (It's not as nice as the room above, though I would love to do something like that for them someday.) They've shared a room since Liam was kicked out of our bedroom when he was about a year old. It was tough going at first. Liam wasn't the greatest sleeper. Okay, that's a little bit like saying that Godzilla wasn't exactly small. And there were trying times at first. My Mom always laughs as she imitates a 4 year old Xander who said, "Can't you get that kid to be quiet?" to her with his hand over his ears when she babysat one evening.

In our old house, there was no choice. We had three bedrooms and one of them was an office for my work-at-home husband. The kids adjusted to each other and even draw comfort from having a sibling close by.

So my boys think that they should always share a room.

Our current house has enough rooms for the boys to have their own rooms, plus for office space for each of the adults in our home.  Imagine our surprise when we told them that they could each have their own rooms and they protested! There was no way they were going to sleep apart. The world would end if they had separate rooms. What were we thinking?

So they share a room here too. Except that Xander is now old enough that his bedtime is changing. He's no longer tired as early as his little brother. We would like to institute different bedtimes and to give Xander a half hour to read at the end of the day.

So the question is before "the courts" again. We'll see what happens. For those of you who have navigated this split before or have suggestions to keep them together, but give Xander his growing privileges, please speak up.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The Quiet Place

Every so often, I spend some time on Pinterest. I like to browse through and see what catches my eye. It's kind of like window shopping. Lately, I've tried a few of the recipes that have popped up.

Today, thanks to my friend Erica, I found The Quiet Place Project.  Go ahead. Take a look. Follow the link. And then think about it.

I recently had my membership to an online mommy board deactivated. There have been questions about it, and although there was a defining moment that helped me to make the decision, the ultimate reason was this.

I'm not going to stop posting on Facebook. Or blogging. Certainly, I like my electronics. But every so often, we all need a break from it. I'm going to post, and then I am going to spend the last hour of my day without the electronic noise in my life.

Go...find your quiet place too.

And to the person or persons who created that site: Awesome!

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

People Do This On Purpose?

I have to say up front that I just don't get why people would do this to themselves on purpose.

I blogged over here about my sleep issues and the core of them being my medication for depression. It's been a few weeks, but I have had two changes in medication because of it all and have come off of the SSRIs as a result. Which leads to this post.

Coming off of SSRIs ends in withdrawal symptoms. I've heard that if you do it slowly enough, over months and months, that the withdrawal can be minor. Since the core of my issues revolve around sleep, I don't have months and months to do this. It's been weeks. Today I am a full week of being off of every drop of SSRI.

It's been a hard and long week. Frustrating. Full of tears some days. Other days I've felt like the cat rubbed the wrong way. Still other days, I feel great. While my husband knows and understands what I am going through, the kids are still small; one wouldn't understand and the other shouldn't be burdened with trying to understand. So my husband picks up the slack and smooths things over, while I try my very best to be on an even keel. The kids deserve it, so I am trying.

The worst of the moods seem to have passed. I hope. But there is one physical symptom that will take a while to taper off and it is the one symptom that irritates me the most. I've read descriptions of brain zaps as part of the withdrawal from these drugs, but what I get is more like vertigo in my peripheral vision. If I turn my head while I am walking, the world goes wonky. Turning my head can be side to side, but it can also mean up or down. Try walking and just looking straight ahead!

The only cure for it is to stay stationary at all times. Yeah, that works well for me too! So I have done things in small spurts and try to minimize how much I have to do. For now, I am not driving. When this recedes, and it will, I will drive again. For now, I refuse to put myself, my kids, and other people in danger because I need milk at the store. My husband goes when he can and I wait when he can't. (This takes patience for me, since I don't like waiting and am not used to being hobbled like this.)

Our backyard looks like the Clampetts live here and I desperately want to work on that too. So I get little bits done and hope that tomorrow and next week will be better. The moods I can handle, the inability to get things done just irks me.

And that is why I wonder why people would take drugs, knowing that this is the ending of it all. That withdrawal, both physical and mental, is imminent. I took these drugs because they helped keep me upright when the depression was so thick that I couldn't see my feet, let alone move them. I also wonder why we would even use prescriptions that do this to us in the long run? The side effects from these drugs are a whole other disease! Why aren't we searching out better options?  Understand that I am not saying that these drugs aren`t necessary and that we shouldn`t use them. When I was put on them, I needed them desperately. I know a lot of people who use them and need them badly. However, I wonder why the medical industry isn`t looking for better solutions. Perhaps they are and I just don`t know about it.

For now, I am doing what I can and hoping that each day will get a bit better and I won`t fall over in the process.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Wedding Gowns

Yesterday, I was obsessed with what to do with my wedding gown.

It's in the closet, in a bag, still yet to see a dry cleaner. Every so often, it nags at me from the closet and I wonder what to do with it.

I hear about women keeping their dresses for their daughters to wear, either for their own weddings or for playing in or for pictures while they grow. Having two sons makes this a non-issue. I'm fairly certain neither of my boys will want to wear my wedding gown.

I have no desire to trash my dress either. In fact, until I googled "what to do with your wedding dress" yesterday, I'd never even heard of this particular trend. I see the appeal, but it's just not me.

Today I took the dress out of its bag and looked at it. Still very pretty. Simple lines, detachable train, no great pile of beads and bows (as was the style at the time), and still very much within my taste. Perhaps, I will take to making my own tradition and wear it on my birthday, drinking champagne, as was suggested by someone I read yesterday. For now, it is going back in the closet.

So, what have you done with your dress? Do you hope that future generations will wear it? What if you don't have daughters?

*A little side note: the dress above is not my dress. I tried to find a photo of it online, but it's not available, since my wedding was in 1999. All the pictures are done in film, not digitally of our actual wedding, so I'd have to scan and right now I am in the middle of changing computers. It's a pretty one though. 

Wednesday, May 09, 2012

Failures of the Fairy

It's not actually the tooth fairy's fault, but she is the first to come under the scrutiny of my oldest son. He's unsure if she exists and will tell you one day for certain that she doesn't and the next day he comes up with an idea on how to prove it one way or another.

Truth be told, I am a little bit proud.

The big problem is that there is no consistent story about this little lady. Why does she take those teeth? (Ray has declared that she grinds them up to use as fairy dust.) And what should she bring? Money? Toys? Most parents seem to lean toward money, but then we are all over the place for the amount of money.

Today, I heard one that surprised me, apparently one of my son's buddies gets the money AND to keep the tooth!

No wonder the tooth fairy is under suspicion.

Tuesday, May 08, 2012

Summer is Coming

May just started, so I figured that I had plenty of time to consider our summer plans. Not that we haven't been talking about summer, mind you. We have friends coming to visit in July. I am going with the kids to visit a few people too. And we have already started a list of things to do. (Thank you Pinterest.) So, I do know that Summer is on its way.

What I didn't count on is how quickly summer will be here.

Today, at preschool, a few of us were talking about how soon the year is over. It turns out I only have two more duty days for preschool! That's a milestone. Liam only has 12 more days. That's a shocker. What is more shocking is that come a bright September morning, he will be off to real school. Double whammy: Ontario now has all day, every day Kindergarten and our school is starting that program this fall.

I am sitting in my office, with the sun coming in the tiny window, wondering what that will be like. What will a whole day of this kind of quiet bring? What am I doing next? Fall will bring many changes for our household.

Xander is currently doing what I think will be his last French show and tell for the year. Next week will be his last presentation. And he has long past his 100 books for the year. Amazing! I am very close to having a second grader in my house. When did that happen? He has 37 more school days.

Last fall seems like a long time ago. Winter felt like it took forever to wade through. Spring edged in and edged in and edged in, until we finally realized it really was here (I put our winter clothes away last week, so let's hope so!). But summer, I have a feeling that summer is just waiting around the next bend, ready to jump upon us all.

Tuesday, May 01, 2012


For most of my adult life, I have made references to myself as fractured. I've lived all over Canada, plus time in Europe and Asia. It doesn't matter where I go, I have people and memories. Places left behind. I carry them with me always. I am just as much the little girl who played in mud puddles under rainy November skies on the northern tip of the Vancouver Island as I am the young woman who swam in a waterfall one summer in Newfoundland. Once, I was a teenager with clear blue skies above me and waves of wheat and flax around me.  Today, I am a mother, a writer, a friend, a runner in the suburbs of the most populous city in Canada.

I've made reference to this, all this time, as being fractured. Broken into pieces.

Sounds grim, doesn't it?

I see why I did that. I cannot choose one over another. I cannot deny that there is appeal to living in New Brunswick, where I once walked the ocean floors and cried at the beauty of the wild edges of this country. But choosing a life where that is my every day and my every breath means that the big skies of Saskatchewan that sustain my soul and the winds that rustle the prairie harvests and whisper to me through time and space are even further from my reach. I felt like I just could not have ALL of it.

Sometimes, I envy my friends who have lived in one place their whole lives and have parents, siblings, and extended relatives down the street or a few miles away. I can barely wrap my head around that concept.

Except today I woke up and realized that these pieces are not a fracturing of myself. I am not broken. I am a representation of all of the pieces that make up our country. I have tundra and rocky mountains in me. My feet have touched both oceans. I have literally flown over our country from one end to the other. I have experienced the hottest summer nights and the coldest winter days this land offers. These pieces are more like leaves. Sweet bits that make up the depth and breadth of the whole tree. Layers of story, experience, life.

Friday, April 27, 2012

In the Haze

I woke up this morning with the idea that I wanted to describe what the haze of living with sleep deprivation is like for me. If you've lived like this, then I would love to hear about your experience too.

At first, I thought about it in the same way I thought about fog: thicker and thinner in places, obscuring my view of what I normally know is around me. I knew that writing was there. I knew that running was there. And sometimes I attempted it anyway. A lot like driving when you know that the road is there, but can only see about 15 meters ahead of you.

I hate that kind of driving. Living that way isn't great either.

But that was what it was like in the beginning of my sleep deprivation. As time wore on, it was more of a haze in the mind. Haze takes over everything. It made thinking and planning harder. My concentration was gone. I lived in the moment, planning for not much more than I could see in front of me.

The effects of sleep deprivation have been compared to alcohol consumption, and the comparison is not pretty. If this is a concern for doctors who work long shifts, what does it do to ordinary people who are driving, cooking, and managing their lives? How does a person work?  I can tell you that it's not easy. As a freelancer, I've watched as my business falls to pieces around me, because I can't plan and pursuing clients is almost impossible.

In this haze ideas flit away very quickly. Words that were once easy to access are stuck in the hazy brain. As a writer, without words and ideas, I am not able to perform for my basic tasks. It would be like an accountant who can no longer remember how to add.

There have been days where I stood there, telling my kids to get ready for school and couldn't remember the word toothbrush. My sentences dying in my mouth. Not being able to access basic vocabulary is frustrating and scary.

It's not just an ineffective way to write, it's an ineffective way to live. This is haze. This is four years of sleep deprivation.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Returns and the Story of Sleep Issues

It's not just that I haven't been blogging. I've been avoiding blogging.

It seemed like life was full of crazed, but mundane life happenings. Sometimes funny in the moment. Sometimes sad. But nothing worth blogging about.

The big thing isn't that it wasn't worth blogging about, but that my drive and headspace to write in was gone. I've been elsewhere.

Yes, I have been dealing with growing boys. I have also been volunteering at both schools and with the Canadian Scouting movement. I do laundry. Sleep. Check email and facebook. Eat. The normal everyday things. But I haven't been writing, except in bits and spurts.

Here's the thing: I haven't had a decent night's sleep in about 4 years. If you've followed me for a while, you know that our littlest gave us all a hard time with sleep. He just didn't. Part of it was allergies and reflux, and part was conditioning. We managed to get over that with the help of a wonderful woman at The Sleep Doula group in Toronto.

I had PPD. It wasn't fun. And despite what has been suggested to me on occasion, it wasn't a choice I made or something I had time to indulge in. It made what was hard enough already, even harder, so I went on medication. The medications commonly used for PPD is from a group called SSRIs. If you are less than fluently medical (yeah, me too), SSRI stands for Selective Serotonin Re-uptake Inhibitors or Serotonin-Specific Reuptake Inhibitor. My doctor did explain how it works. And it did work. I was able to get through. It was like the difference between running in snow up to your knees or running on a calm, balmy day.  I went off them for a short while, I took them again. I've been on them for most of 4 years.

It seemed to be the solution. But still, I was not rested. Ever. I slept. Oh boy, did I ever sleep. At the drop of the hat. And I had vivid dreams. Wildly vivid to the point where I carried them with me through my waking day. But I was never rested.

In February, I went to a sleep clinic and the results eventually came back: I dream. Sounds funny, right? Everyone dreams. Except that I dream from the moment my head hits the pillow until the moment I get up.  This doesn't sound like a problem, except when you consider that when you are in REM all the time, you don't get any of the deep, restorative sleep.

Think about that: I've not had deep, restorative sleep for 4 years.


So, in that time I have given up bits of me, because they had sunk under the haze. The big two were running and writing. It was a bit at a time. Here and there. Until it finally dribbled away. I just couldn't manage the haze and to run and write. The running requires your body to be restored later and the writing requires clear thinking. I had neither.

I mentioned the PPD and the drugs, because my doctor thinks they are the key to my sleep problems. (The cure is sometimes another disease!) Sometimes this side-effect manifests as chronic nightmares. Mine weren't that at all, thankfully. On the other hand, had they been nightmares, this would have been solved sooner. I've changed the meds now, with the hope of some relief. There may be another change required in the future too.

And I am sharing all of this, because we are all far too quiet about depression. And even quieter about the drugs to treat them. So I am sharing. This is what has happened to me. I miss running and I miss writing. I struggle right now, so stay with me a while. I'm working on sorting this out. And I am hoping that there will be restorative sleep in my future.

The good news is that I no longer remember all of these vivid dreams. It's hope and I will take it.

Wednesday, February 08, 2012

The Difference Good Teaching Makes

We swim. My Mom learned to swim just off the St Laurence at a place called "The Yacht Club". Sounds swanky, but it was the 1950s and everyone just swam there. My Dad learned in the pond on the back of my grandparents' property. I managed to be one badge shy of being able to go for my lifeguard certification. Ray swims.

Xander has been in swimming lessons since he was three (we did one round of the tots and parents and that was one round too many for me!). He swims. But last term's lessons ended with him being terrified of the deep end, insisting he could no longer swim, and a fight for every lesson just to get him to the pool. And I found out why: the instructor was not encouraging. He told my child that he wasn't a good swimmer and that he couldn't do it. And then he would tell him that he had to tread water for 10 minutes! It was quite the contradiction. I was mad and upset, so I told the head guard about it and pulled Xander out 3 lessons early.

Luckily I have a few contacts at the pool and I was determined to not let Xander stew in his misery and misconceptions. He *can* swim. He swam better than last term when he was 4 and 5! So I made sure he had a good teacher this time.

...and then I bribed him to get him in the pool. (15 minutes on his DS if he went in and worked hard, another 5 if he jumped into the water)

This is Xander swimming across the pool (he's the tiny head in the water) the second week of classes:

And this is him preparing to dive into the very deep end of the pool two weeks ago.
What's the difference? The young lady who is his teacher never tells him he can't do something. She tells him he's doing a good job, says things like "way to go!" and couches any extra instruction with "next time we will add/try..."

Xander would literally try to walk on the water for her!

We have been lucky that both of out boys have always had a daycare provider, preschool teachers, babysitters, family, and swim instructors who have been like this. And I fully admit, I didn't appreciate it nearly as much until it was gone. Now, I am appreciating it even more!

Friday, January 27, 2012


Sometimes conversations come up about what I did before I had my kids. Last night, Ray and I were chatting with a friend who is in her mid-twenties and she asked how old I was when I had my kids.

I was in my 30s when I had both of my boys. Ray and I had been married 6 years. We'd been dating for 5 before we got married.

That's a long time to be together before children. Most people don't do that on purpose, but we did. A good chunk of that time was because we were still going to university. Once we were married, we also had job losses and gains and wanted to buy a house first. So we did.

Still, that leaves a lot of living to do before the kids came along.

I went to South Korea for about a year to teach English. It was a fun time, but also lonely and hard at times. I learned I could entertain myself, be alone, see and do things by myself, and be happy. I also learned it was more fun with someone. Ray and I had been dating for a bit less than 2 years when I left, he visited over Christmas, and then I came back to Canada and we continued our relationship.

We did a little traveling in Canada. It would have been more and further, but we also struggled financially at the time.

We bought our first car, got our first apartment together, had a roommate...and then didn't. We worked, lost jobs, and got jobs. Ray went back to school for a year.

I learned to run long distances and completed my first half marathon before my first child came. I also learned to knit (ironically, not for baby stuff, but to keep myself out of the fridge at night). I read a lot of books.

We ate out. We ate all kinds of different foods, and once even had a round of impulse eating (kind of like impulse shopping) with a friend at a fabulous Thai restaurant in St. Catherine's, Ontario. We experimented with cooking.

We went to GenCon in Milwaukee and then in Indy. We won second prize in the D&D Open Tournament. (I didn't play at all before I came back from Korea.) And we had fun. We met more people.

We made new friends and spent time with old friends.

We laughed. We laughed a lot!

We lived.

Do I regret having my children a bit later? Not a sniff. Do I miss those times? A bit, to be honest. But less every day. Best of all, I know we will have things to do and places to go when our kids are grown and doing their own things.

Is it much different now that we have the boys? This is where the irony lies: not very much. We do all of these things with the kids. We've traveled with them, gone to GenCon, see our friends, read, eat out and experiment with food, bought another get the picture. It's our life together and we've introducing our boys to all of it a step at a time. It was harder when they were smaller, but as they no longer need booster chairs and diapers and playpens, it gets easier and easier. When they get older and have their own lives, I will miss having them with us, but I know that we will adjust again.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Ghostbusters, Curious George, and Toopy and Binou

What do these shows have in common? They all keep Liam vastly amused while I shower, clean, spend time on the internet, or write.

Go figure.

BTW, I had to look up how to spell Toopy, and I have just recently discovered that Toopy and Binou is incredibly funny to a 3 year old.

Xander, on the other hand, is not amused by Curious George anymore. I get rolled eyes and "Can't we watch something else, Mom?"

Good thing Liam is feeling better and the two of them are now playing with the Lego again. I think I need a break from the television sounds too.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Time are a changin'

It seems that times have changed and I rarely come to post on my blog anymore. It's been months and months, actually. Well, things have changed in our family.

We moved back in August. Our new house is only a short distance north of the old house, but it is in a slightly younger neighbourhood (the houses are 30 years old instead of 60-70 years old), the lots are smaller, and the houses are much bigger.

I am sure I will always love that little house that was our first real home. Indeed, sometimes I wonder if it was my first real home ever. Certainly I lived there the longest at almost 8 years. Plus, Xander was literally born in that house. Though the decision to move was a good one, there were many tearful moments for all of us when we left!

The new house is 1800 sq ft, not including the basement (our old one didn't hit 1100 sq ft with the basement, for the record), so we have plenty of room to grow. We also have offices for each of us and bedrooms for each of the boys, when they decide they are ready to live apart. For now, they share, because the mere mention of splitting caused much chaos and drama. I think it is kind of sweet that they want to be together.

A new house also means a new school. And Liam started preschool this year, so it's new schools all around. Both boys are enjoying their schools and Xander is especially tickled. He loves going to French Immersion and he is happier going all day, every day. In fact, the majority of his anxiety issues from last year have disappeared! Liam is pretty easy going, so he loves going to school.

Liam is almost caught up with his speech. We are very excited about this! It's nice to know what is going on in his world and have him interact that much more. In fact, there have been times when we have had to say, "Liam, you need to be quiet now!" Last week we got the gold seal of approval from the speech therapy people, who say he is ready for Junior Kindergarten in the fall. He still has to go to speech therapy to smooth out a few things, but they are pleased with his progress and know he will manage fine.

Which brings me to this week: I get to register Liam for Kindergarten!

Time flies.

I've not been working since the move. Mostly because who has time to unpack, settle in, volunteer at preschool, be a Beaver leader (yes, I volunteered to be part of the team that does our local Beaver group activities...and it's turned out to be a blast), and work too. I am working on settling that up though. I've been looking for work and have a few good leads. Plus, I am excited to get back to work again!

All in all, it has been a busy, but good time in our lives. Hopefully, I will remember to pop in here and post a big more often, now that writing is back on my radar.