• Yesterday afternoon, I scheduled two doctor’s appointments back to back – one for Callum, one for Oliver. Because Callum was sick, he never had his proper 2 month check up and immunizations, so we did those. Then it was Oliver’s turn for a 2 year check up, immunization catch up, and I wanted the doctor to look at his skin as he’s got all these spots and dry patches everywhere. She didn’t have a lot to say on that – I think it’s his mild infant eczema that’s reared its head in the dry and cold. I had thought that he was going to have to have his second MMR shot, as he only had the first one and that one was late (the card indicates you need 2; one at 12 months and one at 18 months) – but the doctor said they prefer to give it at 4 years old. Great stuff, no screaming from a needle. Except then she remembered he should probably have a chicken pox vaccine. Post-screaming of both needle-in-thigh children was buffet and ice cream at Mandarin; all was then well. (Thankfully Mark was home yesterday and we could wrangle both of them in the doctor’s office). And Callum seems to have had no reaction from his, so that’s good. Oliver weighs 30 pounds and Callum is going on 16. I think I probably shouldn’t be worried about Oliver being a bit rough on Callum because pretty soon Callum is going to be able to beat up Oliver. He’s definitely going to be bigger than him.
• I’m not happy with how Callum is still spitting up quite a lot despite being on thickened formula, and I do actually struggle now to get him to drink it (not because it’s too thick, I think he possibly just doesn’t like it and I haven’t really had a lot of luck with it since he was sick). So we’ve been referred for an upper GI tract x-ray. I’m not really sure why we aren’t just getting baby Gaviscon or something (which is what I was told he should have by Mark’s sister – a junior doctor – and Mark’s cousin – a paeds nurse), but whatever.
• We are finally getting started on improving this house with a small step – we are replacing a very large window and patio doors in the family room, the room we spend the most time in. The windows in there are in the worst shape in the house – drafty and mouldy. We can’t afford to replace all the old windows right now, but at least it’s a start.
• I am SO glad that Lost starts again tonight. The state of tv right now, with the writer’s strike never ending, is atrocious. There’s very little to watch in the evenings, and when you have a small child to feed, what else is there to do?!

• The other day, when uploading the video of Callum, I could not for the life of me remember how to edit videos on this computer and how to compress them for web publishing. Instead, it took about an hour to upload unedited garbage to Google Videos. Today, I suddenly remembered that there is a little program sitting on the bottom of my screen called iMovie and I am a moron. At least I could edit this and cut out the part where Mark asks if I want a cup of tea as he thought I was taking photos:

• I got to go out by myself yesterday, took myself on a date to see Juno. Got spruced up and bought myself a garbage movie theatre lunch, and checked it out. I liked it. I keep reading reviews that say that no teenagers talk like that, but Juno the character is a hell of a lot like people I went to high school with. She was very familiar to me (well, except for being knocked up at 16 or whatever) – I can think of a few specific friends she is sort of a combination of. Probably not the best choice for my escape, what with the child birth and seeing Vanessa’s joy over having a son, but what the hell. I got out of my little prison.
• Mark is in Montreal again. Hopefully for the last time for a while.
• If I sit in this chair on this computer too long, my left leg goes numb. It’s an old kitchen table chair. Okay, we seriously need a proper office chair.

He’s okay.

Still sniffly but definitely getting better. The pediatrician at the hospital predicted the virus would last about 10 days, and I think he’s right.

So he’s okay, but I’m not really okay.

I’m on a terrible downward spiral of dealing with a sick baby, trying to take care of a toddler, having Mark spend a hell of a lot of time in Montreal on business (4 out of 5 days this week), trying to keep the house liveable (not even tidy, just not completely disgusting), making sure the dog and cat are alive and have basic needs met, and yeah, basically losing any sense of myself in the midst of that. And it’s even worse in the middle of winter – it’s just easier not to leave the house, and it’s not like it’s practical to all go out and take the dog for a walk when it’s -15 degrees.

So I spent the weekend with Callum at my parents’ house, who spoiled me with good food and lots of movie watching, and Oliver has gone back in daycare full time for a few weeks. ‘Cause I’m not exactly coping that well. I felt really rested and calm after the weekend, and then last night I started getting the tightening feeling back in my chest when I was trying to get Oliver to eat dinner, Callum was crying for his food, and Piper wanted to go out to pee. Basically, I just can’t do it all, but it all needs to be done.

At least with Oliver in daycare, I feel like I am paying enough attention to Callum, sort of making up for what happened before. But then I have the stress of not really being able to afford to have him in full time for a few weeks – the bills, they are piling up. I’m paying towards my pension while I am off on mat leave, which is a huge bill, and there are other major expenses (like car service, etc.) in the near future.

Also, I know it’s completely ridiculous that he’s in daycare full time. When he really should be at home full time. I mean, people do this, normal people with normal lives do it every day. Women have been doing domestic duty for how many centuries? Looking after 2 kids should be, like, innate or something. But for me, it is not.

The stress, it sucks.

I have mega mummy guilt. I have done Callum a real disservice over the past few days. On Thursday, he started getting Oliver’s cold, but it just started with the sniffles. By Friday night, the cough had started. On Saturday, I began to notice how much more he was sleeping and that he was eating less than normal. On Sunday, I took him to a walk-in clinic.

I chose the walk-in clinic because it’s relatively close to our house and I seem to never have to wait when I am there. However, the doctor did a very brief assessment of his symptoms and pronounced a chest infection before he had even listened to Callum’s chest. Anyway, because I had already assumed that’s what Callum had (from the cough and the wheezing), I was happy with the diagnosis, and filled the prescription for the antibiotics.

On Monday, he seemed a bit brighter when he was awake and was coughing less. When we gave the boys a bath, Mark was concerned about how Callum was drawing his chest in when he was breathing, but I was like ‘well, of course he’s struggling a bit, he’s got bronchitis’. He was, however, still not eating much (we’ve gone from breastfeeding + 3-4 oz formula per feed to only breastfeeding and about 2 oz formula per day forced on him – he’s rejecting the bottle) and sleeping a lot. Sunday and Monday night were wonderful for me – he was sleeping roughly from 10pm to 9am with a brief snack around 4am.

Tuesday, we were scheduled for his 2 month check up and immunizations. I knew he might not be able to get the immunizations if he was sick, but obviously I wanted our proper doctor to see him after the cursory assessment on the weekend.

She weighed him (hefty 14 lbs 6 0z) and then observed his breathing when I gave her the whole story. And she said he needed to go to emergency immediately because he was struggling too much. To reassure me after I felt like I had been kicked in the gut, she said that the doctor should have seen it on Sunday. But really, I shouldn’t have gone to that doctor. Or I should have gotten another opinion.

Not only did I feel like the world’s worst mother, I also had to deal with the fact that Mark was in Montreal (again) on business until late that evening, and I had to pick Oliver up from daycare. Thankfully, I got a hold of my mother, who was able to come down and help me out. They let her leave work early.

So off we went to the ER at the hospital he was born at. They didn’t seem as worried about him as my doctor had been, and basically, although he was congested, his blood oxygen was 100% and all other stats were good. He was in emergency from about 2pm until 6:30pm, which was enough time to be assessed by a few different doctors, monitored by the nurse, get a chest x-ray and get one mask treatment of ventalin.

We’ve now got a puffer for his lungs at home, administered through a little face mask that he hates. We got a cold water vaporizer too, but I am not sure it’s doing anything other than making a lot of noise while we try and sleep. And he’s off the antibiotics since it’s probably a virus. Through all this he’s smiling away. And when we got home last night, I did manage to get him to take some formula, but he’s still not eating that much. I think he’d probably weigh a lot more if he hadn’t stopped eating for a couple of days in England (when we all got that norovirus and he just slept a lot while I vomited), and if he hadn’t been sick now.

I truly feel awful though. I should have been more worried. I mean, I was worried, but not worried enough to take him to hospital like I should have. I actually don’t have any experience with sick newborns since Oliver never got sick until he started daycare. And now Callum gets all the daycare germs way before he gets there. So I was sort of thinking, well, he’s just going to have to get over this since you aren’t supposed to give any cold medication to infants now, and surely the antibiotics will help clear the congestion. And I was constantly making sure that he was breathing and didn’t turn blue and seemed content (which he did). But now I know better.

We’re obviously just glad that he’s okay. And I got to spend an interesting afternoon around some ER nutcases (that would be the patients, not the staff).

Where have the weeks gone? Oh yes, many of them spent dealing with jetlag and excessive spit up in England. Anyway, generally Callum is doing very well and is a pretty straightforward baby. He wakes up, he eats, he now spends some awake time looking around and even swatting at toys, and then he goes to sleep. We’re still combination feeding, and he’s now on thickened Enfamil for formula as per my doctor’s orders. This has reduced his spit up in the last week, although he’s still doing it. I think his reflux is generally better though – he was crying a lot before he did it, indicating he was in pain, and that has mostly stopped now. So she may order some tests to investigate, or she might leave it.
I think he’s getting Oliver’s current cold, so we didn’t have a great night last night – lots of short spells of crying in between short spells of sleeping. But generally we seem to be moving towards lots of sleeping, and much less eating, and no pooping, at night – which is all good.
He doesn’t seem to have suffered any head injuries from Oliver yet, but there is no way I can ever leave them alone together – Oliver’s just too rough on him. He pokes him hard in the head, squeezes his hands and feet, and likes to try to put his dummy in his mouth with a little force. I thought it was slightly malicious at first, but I do actually think he’s showing interest and love even possibly – but he hasn’t learned to be gentle yet.
I don’t know how much he weighs until we get to his 2 month appointment sometime soon, but it’s a lot – this kid is still huge. He’s now in 3-6 month clothing, which just astounds me. And I sort of grunt when I pick him up – it takes effort!
Overall, he’s quite good, and when I have him on my own, it’s easy. When his brother is around, that’s a different story…

There’s not a lot of new things happening with Oliver – but what he does, he does better and better all the time. In the 2.5 weeks that we spent in England, we got that first hand view of watching his vocabulary grow and grow. There almost isn’t anything that he doesn’t have a word for now. It’s actually possible to have a conversation with him, and have him express his preferences. He likes to order us around – ‘stop it Mummy’; ‘sit down there’; ‘get up!’. But he is also actually often polite – ‘more fish crackers please’. He loves to sing, and recite his alphabet and numbers up to 20. It’s mostly just the repetition of sounds for him, but he can properly count up to three now. As in, he can accurately count three sheep in a book, or three boats in the bath. He still doesn’t stop moving and he’s still cheeky as hell and it’s really hard to keep up with his energy and need for entertainment. That’s what makes my Mondays and Thursdays and weekends so hard – keeping up with Oliver while trying to even pay a minimal amount of attention to Callum. When he’s good, he’s really good and cute and funny. He is seriously funny. And when he’s bad, he really pushes boundaries and is willful as hell and loves a tantrum. Thankfully distraction mostly works.

As our holiday included both Christmas and Oliver’s 2nd birthday, and catching up with lots of people, it seemed like Oliver was opening presents everyday. And it got to a point where Mark couldn’t open his own birthday presents without Oliver freaking out, and we came home to requests of ‘more presents??’. I have finally quelled it, and what’s going to happen this weekend?? My family is finally getting together for a belated Christmas and knowing my parents, the boys have been thoroughly spoiled. Hopefully I will manage to keep some of the new stuff out of his sight, and continue doing toy rotation on the days he’s at home to keep his interest up. We actually haven’t even given him all the stuff we bought him yet, so I can save it for emergency play situations. I am looking forward to seeing what he does with Mr Potato Head; perhaps I’ll pull that out tomorrow.

• We are having a major January thaw. Last week it was -13 degrees; this week it’s +13 degrees. It’s nice to wear a light coat. But it’s not nice for the melting snow to uncover piles of dog crap everywhere, right where I need to walk. When we got home from the UK, there was literally 5 foot of snow on the driveway, so Piper wasn’t wandering very far to do her business. If I was feeling virtuous, as Callum is asleep and it’s my time, I would go and shovel it away. Instead I blog. Oh well.

• Callum and I visited my office today and it was lovely to see everyone. And step back in to the real world for a brief time. They all said how good I looked and how cute he was, so we enjoyed the ego boost too. I haven’t been in since October and I do miss it. And he was a champ all day today. Also I slept well last night.
• I’m going to try one of Rachel Ray’s recipes for dinner tonight, for the first time. I can’t decide whether I like her or hate her. I mean, generally she’s over the top. But I mean cooking-wise, I can’t decide if I like what she does or not. I mean, she’s not a chef, she’s just a person who likes to cook (which I can obviously relate to). So this pasta recipe, with tuna and flavoured breadcrumbs – it’s Mark’s kind of thing, so I’ll give it a go.
• I am truly addicted to Scrabulous on Facebook – even though everyone is kicking my ass!!
• Mark is going to Montreal for a day and a half on business tomorrow. This makes me angry. Have these companies not heard of teleconferences??

Christmas Day:

Not Callum’s first smile, but the first caught on camera. I’ve got to get some better ones as he’s doing giant gummy grins now.

Oliver’s 2nd birthday.

We’re back, somehow all in one piece, no one missing any limbs or anything. Yesterday was slightly nightmarish, a neverending day that started for me at 4:30am UK time and ended at 9:30pm Ontario time, which is 22 hours awake, which is not really that fun. And the flight was sooooo long, 10 hours stuck in a tin (we stopped in Montreal and didn’t move for 2 hours or more). But Oliver could have been worse on the flight. And Callum was pretty easy. So I’ll attempt to focus on the positive.

The good things about the trip?

I’m grasping a little. I am happy with my sale purchases at Monsoon, 2 cardigans and a sweater dress/long top (I don’t know which it is!). I also got a nice necklace from some random shop I’d never been to. But shopping at Milton Keynes didn’t exactly go to plan, with small windows of time in which to accomplish too much. So there was lots more I wanted to buy, like M&S knickers and Office or Dolci or even Clarks shoes, and didn’t get a chance to.

Oliver had a great time with both sets of his grandparents.

Oliver and Callum were very spoiled, and we managed to bring most of it back within our pathetic baggage allowance.

I got to see some great Christmas telly, like the Doctor Who special, and the last Extras.

I bought Heat magazine and read it while eating McVitties milk chocolate digestives. A little slice of heaven right there.

And that’s about all I can say on the good front. I should have been at home, with a newborn baby, really. I should have been able to get to my doctor when we all got a stomach bug and Callum didn’t eat and didn’t really wake up for 12 hours (though NHS service was good when we took him to A&E, it’s not really the same as going to a doctor that knows you and him). And he’s got reflux that’s gotten worse and I had to wait until today to get some medical advice. I should have been able to sleep in my own bed, and feed him comfortably, rather than in strange houses always using a nursing cover that Callum seems to react against. But anyway, it’s over, and now at least I can spend some time getting some semblance of a routine established instead of having to prepare and run around for the trip, like I was for half of December.

It’s bloody cold (-26 celcius with windchill today) and we had to walk through literally 5 foot of snow to get into the house and the house already looks like a bomb hit it (we did actually leave it pretty clean) but I am happy to be here.