Atropa Belladonna~ Raven (a.k.a. Nightshade)'s Weblog ~
These are the ARCHIVES of November 2003. For more archives, visit the Archives page. For the current Weblog entries, check the Main page.
Atropa Belladonna| Sun, Nov 30, 2003 (4:25pm) I bought a van! I bought a van! Yay me!!! I'm now the proud owner of a bright red Plymouth Voyager. Of course, it isn't registered or insured yet, but I'll get around to that soon. I can't drive it much yet anyways, because I can't put the kids' car seats in it. The restraining bolts still need to be installed. However, once they are installed, I should be able to load 'em up, and numerous strollers and parcels and packages and all manner of ill-gotten gain, and sail the seven seas for Christmas Plunder! I want a skull&crossbones flag for my front licence plate. |
| Sat, Nov 29, 2003 (10:25pm) Looong day at work today. Any day you need to call the Ambulance for probable cause is a long day, mind you. That was just before 4pm, at shift change. The day started off pretty hectic, too. Shoulda known it was going to be one of those days. A normal morning for me goes something like this: Come to work, get clinic ready for opening, do any necessary cleaning (regular maintenance, etc), help receptionists get the desk set up, open the doors at 9 am. Then the fun starts: help reception pull charts to get the first few patients in, do a little more tidying or re-stocking equipment before we get too hectic, make a few phone calls left over from last night, pull some more charts, give an injection in Treatment Room A, answer phones, back to Treatment Room A for a dressing change, phone a prescription to pharmacy, set up for a Pap test, help receptionists some more, have a quick coffee, do a dressing change in Treatment Room B, assess a patient, pull charts, set up Treatment Room A for stitches, answer a couple more phone calls, start a New Patient chart, fill out forms to send a swab to the lab, clean up suture set once Dr. finishes doing those stitches, apply a dressing over the sutures, answer some patient questions, give another injection in Treatment Room A, etc... All told, it's pleasant and varied. Phone calls can be done while sitting (which is always nice) and there's a good mix of nursing-specific tasks (usually done in the Treatment Room) and general clinic work which have you walking or standing or using different muscles - including your brain - so you don't get bored, and don't feel overworked. Mostly. Today went something like this: Come to work to discover there's already a line-up starting outside, get clinic ready for opening, do a little cleaning and restocking, help receptionists get the desk set up (while patients outside begin knocking on the door to let us know that it's nearly 9), and finally unlock the door (a full 2 minutes before 9 am). Be swept up by the deluge of patients heading for the reception desk. Help reception pull charts briskly... two of them are dressing changes right off the bat. Set up Treatment Room A for one and Treatment Room B for the other. Answer a phone call from an irate patient about a matter which should have been dealt with in August. Treatment Room A - dressing change. Treatment Room B - dressing change. Pap test. Back to Treatment Room A for an injection. Then Treatment Room B for a different Dressing Change. Set up Treatment Room A for minor surgery. Invite a patient into Treatment Room B for an injection, and then be called out to assess an asthmatic patient who just came in. Ask patient in Treatment Room B (which doubles as our Ventolin Room) to wait in the front lobby for a few minutes until a treatment room can be cleared and her injection can be given. Set up Treament Room B for Ventolin treatment of asthmatic patient. Back to Treatment Room A to put a dressing on. Clean up from the minor surgery, and immediately have Treatment Room A filled by a patient needing an ear-flushing. Go get equipment for ear-flushing and then have to leave it piled on the nursing desk so I can go back to Treatment Room B to check on the asthmatic patient who is having troubles. Reassess. Call doctor to do further assessment. Be called up by reception to deal with a patient "freaking out" in the lobby. Take patient into a back room for assessment so she doesn't disturb the whole building. Assess and discover she has a history of Anxiety attacks. Get her set up to wait calmly in a spare examining room (since the Treatment Rooms are all full) and tell her we'll get her into a room to be seen when we can. Back to Treatment Room B to deal with that Asthmatic Patient. Discover that we've had a patient come in bleeding and probably needing stitches. Move the patient who needs ear-flushing from Treatment Room A into the Cast room and ask him to wait there until we have a room free for him. Set up Treatment Room A for suturing. Answer a phone call from another irate patient, who seems to just want to shout at someone. Clean up Treatment Room B after Ventolin is done - then quickly get patient from lobby into Treatment Room B for her injection. Back to Treatment Room A to assist the doctor. Ask patient if he's willing to wait for just a moment before the dressing is put on. Go to the back room to re-calm our anxiety-attack-wailing-patient, since her sobbing is reverberating through the clinic again. Back up to reception desk where two more patients are lined up for injections. Explain we have no Treatment rooms free yet, but will help them in the order in which they come. One patient decides to wait - the other goes home saying she'll come back when it's quieter. Back to Treatment Room A to do the dressing because there's a bandage change waiting to go into the room next. Treatment Room B has also been filled in the meantime with another patient needing a dressing change, I see. Go to cast room and explain to patient (who is calmly waiting for ear flushing) that we still have no treatment room free. Back to Treatment Room A to do that dressing. While cleaning up, another patient is brought in needing a bandage change - it's a 6 yr old boy with a complicated dressing. Ask that patient to please wait in the lobby for just a moment while I catch up with a couple things. Invite the lady waiting for her injection into Treatment Room A, and give injection. Go to Treatment Room B and remove dressing so Dr can see it prior to re-dressing. Back to Treatment Room A to invite the 6-yr old in. Begin taking off his dressing... it's a post-circumcision dressing. I can not think of a dressing I like doing less. The poor kid is in agony while we slowly (and with a great deal of soaking) try to remove blood-stained bandages from an extremely sensitive location. It's one of those things you just can't rush. When the kid can't take it any more, we wrap it in gauze to soak, and I tell them I'll be back in 10 minutes. Go to cast room where the ear-flushing is still waiting patiently. Since Treatment Rooms A and B are both filled, we do the flushing in the cast room. Back to Treatment Room B after that to redress the bandage. Back to Treatment room A to see if we can get any more of that bandage off now that it has had time to soak. Quickly do an injection in the momentarily-free Treatment Room B. Back to check on our Anxiety attack patient and assure her that it shouldn't be too much longer before the doctor sees her. Back to Treatment Room A for more dressing removal. Briefly stop at the reception desk to check the state of the world... they're as swamped as I am, and have been fielding 'nursing' phone calls as best they can. Back to Treatment Room A. More pain. Then Treatment Room B for yet another asthmatic patient. And it went on. Eventually the patient with the anxiety issues was seen by a doctor. The doctor took us aside immediately after to inform us that they refused to see that patient again - she was just looking for drugs, and wasting our time with her theatrics. The cirumcision dressing did finally come off, and the poor kid lived through it. He took it quite well, all things considered. Both treatment rooms continued to be about that busy from the morning straight through into the afternoon. By nearly 4pm things were calming down a bit, which is good because that's when the heart attack came in and we needed to call the ambulance. That lady was en-route to ER shortly after 4, but I stayed at the clinic until 5pm to finish a bunch of the paperwork I'd tried to start and hadn't had the time for. Oh - and I dealt with that matter which should have been dealt with back in August. Shades, bless his soul, had both kids down for naps when I got home, and the dishes cleaned and the dishwasher run, and the house tidied, so I could fall over exhausted on our bed and just sleep for an hour, while he took off for his evening LARP. Aaaah. Some days, it feels so good to come home from work. |
| Fri, Nov 28, 2003 (5:55pm) Sigh. I just got back from sending off a bunch of parcels. It cost me nearly $100. Ouch. And yes, I will admit that most of that was one single parcel. Not to make the intended recipient feel guilty or anything, but the cost of delivery was easily double the cost of the contents. Yay for overseas deliveries! So, Anna, you can officially expect a parcel in the next 10 - 12 business days (or so they tell me). And my sister can expect a package sometime soon, too (I didn't ship the Robin Hood stuff. I figure if you're coming here for Christmas, you can pick them up in person). Anyone else getting packages is not a regular blog-reader of mine (that I am aware of) so I'll email you instead about it. Later... |
| Fri, Nov 28, 2003 (10:55am) I had the most bizarre dream last night. I dreamt Star called me up because the social worker had a cute little crack-baby for her, and she already had too many, so would I like to foster this one? I, being a good friend and oozing maternal hormones even in my dream, agreed. And later that day, a 2-pound emaciated premature squalling crack-baby (in the throes of withdrawal) was delivered to me. It was.... cute.... for something which shouldn't have been out of the ICU for another 4 months. I cared for it, and loved it, and carried it under my shirt, right against my skin, so it could share my body heat. I called Star daily to discuss how it was doing, and she would tell me how her little crack-baby was doing. We brought them to LRPS together so we could show everybody our matched set of underweight, squalling crack-babies. They looked just like twins. Nolan got frustrated, because he couldn't tell them apart. So, to make it easier to tell the difference, he bought me a baby ferret. I spent the next month or two walking around with a baby ferret and a baby human both living in my shirt, chasing eachother in circles the way pet mice will if you put them in your clothing. And then I woke up. Do NOT ask me what it means. |
| Wed, Nov 26, 2003 (12:25pm) Yeah, it's been a while since I last posted. Been tired, and busy. And tired. And tired some more. Hosting a parasite is hard work. Anyway... in response to my last entry, I had this comment sent via the quick-comment form. And since Arthur marked it as public, I'll post it here: Arthur has this Public comment:(Bregon tells me Arthur has too much time on his hands, btw.) So. Um... The Fax Machine. Yeah. When I arrived at work Saturday morning, there was an annoying 'beep' noise coming from the nurses' desk. It was annoying particularly because I knew what it meant without having to investigate: There was something wrong with the fax. Again. Usually it's something simple, like "Paper out. Please refill paper tray. 11 pages waiting." which means that it ran out of paper overnight. Or, more likely, it ran out of paper yesterday evening and the staff simply ignored the refill warnings, thinking, "Oh - the morning staff can do that." So when you put more paper in, you are deluged with all the faxes from overnight as well as any remaining faxes from the previous evening. But this time, alas, it was nothing so simple. It said, "Toner Cartridge empty. Please change toner. 22 pages waiting." I've never changed the toner on the fax machine before. Hey - I didn't even know where we stored the replacement toner cartridges. But, since I'm the sort of person who likes to see machines functioning as they should be, and not sitting there creating a bigger problem for the next person, I decided to deal with it. I phoned up the head receptionist (at home, on her day off... but she's a very cool person and didn't mind). She told me that changing the toner was easy, and where I could find the replacement cartridges. They were right where she said they'd be. I got one out, looked at the directions, and figured, "Hey - I can handle this.". The directions said: 1) Shake cartridge. (Accompanying this was a diagram of two hands holding the toner cartridge and some arrows pointing back and forth, horizontally. I assume this means "Shake back and forth, sideways". Then there was a diagram of those same hands, still holding the cartidge, and arrows pointing back and forth, vertically. I assumed this meant "Shake up and down, too.") 2) Remove old toner cartridge from machine and insert new toner cartridge. (Accompanying thse instructions was a diagram of the fax machine, open, and a hand lifting the old cartidge out by a little handle. Or maybe it was a hand putting the new cartidge in. There were no arrows to indicate, so it may have been a dual-purpase diagram.) Okay.... So I opened the fax machine. There was the old toner cartridge, sitting exactly where it should be. I took note of its orientation and the little grooves it rested in, so I could insert the new one properly. I shook the new cartridge, back and forth, and up and down. The handle flopped a bit, as did a flap which covered the front of the cartridge (presumably the place where toner comes out, 'cuz if you touched it under the flap, you got black fingers.. as I later discovered). Then I removed the old cartridge and put in the new one. It was just that simple. The new cartridge even went 'click' into place, with that satisfying sound of something which is resting exactly where it should be. I looked into the machine - it looked pretty much the same as it had before I changed cartridges (though, truth be told, I try not to look at the inside of the fax machine very often, so I wouldn't have noticed any minor differences). And then I tried to close the cover on the fax machine. It wouldn't close. It almost closed. It came to within a centimeter of closing, in fact. But it wouldn't quite close the entire way. Now the fax machine was making cheerful beeping noises and producing the error message, "Cover is open. Please close cover. 29 pages waiting." Oh, joy. So I called the receptionist up again, and asked her if there was any trick to this. She said No. The cover had always closed fine for her after. Maybe it was jamming on something? So we checked, and checked again, and the other reception staff and the file clerk who were on shift with me had a look, and everyone agreed that the toner cartridge looked like it was in there correctly, and they had no idea why the cover wouldn't close. The doctor eventually came to see what was going on. (We'd been fighting with the machine off and on for a couple hours at that point... and he was expecting an incoming fax, too.) But even he couldn't see what the problem was. He decided to try forcing it closed. It almost clicked shut, even. At least, it got close enough to clear the error message and try to start printing an incoming fax... but as soon as the doctor let go, the cover snapped open again, and we got a "Paper jam. Please remove jammed paper. 32 pages waiting." message. Grrrr. We fought and cajoled and fiddled and mucked with it for another hour. No good. We tried removing the cartridge and re-inserting it. We tried putting the old one back in - the cover still wouldn't close (so it wasn't a problem with the cartridge being the wrong fit, right? Not if the original was causing the same problem.) We checked that no wires or paper scraps or anything had fallen into the machine and jammed the door-closing mechanism. No luck. There was nothing to explain the door-which-wouldn't-close. So I tried thinking of ways to diagnose the problem (between giving injections and changing bandages and all those other nursing duties one generally does during the day, besides fix fax machines). Eventually, I decided to take out the toner cartridge and see if the machine closed properly with out it. If it did, then the closing mechanism wasn't at fault, right? Well, it closed just perfectly with no toner cartridge inside. So the problem was probably with the way I'd inserted the cartridge. But I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong! It sat in exactly the right place. It went 'click' into its place. it butted up against the roller which feeds paper through the machine. What was wrong? I lifted out the roller, to see if there was a problem with the paper-feed. A little flap (which presumably plays an important part in feeding the paper through) fell off of it. At first I worried that I'd disassembled it unintentionally... but then I noticed that the little plastic clip which holds that flap on was broken. Snapped clear off, in fact. Okay.... so there was actually something broken. That made me perversely satisfied. At least I knew it wasn't something in my mind - there was really something wrong with the machine. It also made it Not My Problem. 'Cuz I might be able to change a toner cartridge, but I certainly couldn't be expected to repair broken fax parts, or pull a paper-feed out of my rectum. So we called the clinic manager and explained the situation to her. And she said we'd need to call the repair guys on Monday, so we'd be fax-less for the weekend. I explained this to the doctors (one of whom acted as if it was a personal affront... but hey, what could we do?) and left the matter at that. Just before I got off shift, the clinic manager dropped by. I showed her the fax machine, and explained the apparent difficulty. She took one look inside, and said, "Oh.". Then she lifted out the toner cartridge, lifted up the flap which covers the icky black surface, and replaced the unit into the machine. It slid nicely into its place (as it had done before) and went click. But now, that flap rested comfortably above the paper-feeding roller. The cover of the fax machine closed nicely, and the machine began churning out faxes. Or, it tried to... but it registered a paper jam within seconds. The broken paper-feed was now definitely at fault. Our manager gave us a look and explained that we'd probably broken the paper-feed by trying to force the fax cover closed when the toner cartridge had been incorrectly installed. If we'd left well enough alone, she wouldn't be needing to call the repair center on Monday morning. But now.... Well, I felt stupid. AND annoyed. HOW was I supposed to now that the little diagram next to "Shake well" meant "And then lift this little flap up before putting the cartridge into the fax machine"? At any rate, I spent much of Sunday doing penance for whatever misdemeaner I'd committed. Any important faxes which should have come in were being phoned in, instead of faxed... and I had to take the calls and hand-write any important messages or lab results or what-not for the doctors to look at. Bah. Stupid fax machines, anyways. |
| Sat, Nov 22, 2003 (7:45pm) Many things. This has been the sort of day which a person can wander through, thinking, "Ah... I know what I'll blog about today!" and then later, "No - this would make an even better blog entry!" and mere moments later, "I can't believe that just happened! Wait until I write about it in my blog!" ...but now that I'm home, I'm tired and don't have the energy to do all that typing. So, to whet your appetite (and remind myself what I want to blather about later) I'll just give you some entry titles to ponder: How NOT to fix a Fax machine.What I want to write about right now, however, is quite unrelated to the above. I want to tell you about my new van. Well... it's not mine yet, but it soon will be. I'm buying a new van. Did I mention that previously? Possibly not. I've been looking for a new vehicle for the last half-year or so. Specifically, I've been looking for a van. Something with more than the 5 seats my current car has. I've only been looking very casually, tho... just letting a few people know, and seeing what came of it. Well, my Dad saw a listing in the NAIT staff circular a little while ago, and he suggested we look into it. Today after work (a long and gruelling work shift at that. Did I mention anything about a broken fax machine, earlier?) we went down to check it out. I think I'm going to buy it. In fact, I've told the guy that I'm going to buy it... we just need to wait for Monday so we can talk to the nice people who want us to spend more money than we have. The van is a '94 Voyager (I was looking for a Caravan since I've had one before and enjoyed it.) It is very red. The interior is a nice muted grey. It's got less than 120,000 clicks on it, which is really pretty good for a '94. My Dad says the engine looks to be in excellent condition. The only big problem is that it's a 5-seater, not a 7-seater like I wanted. But it's got the clips in the floor for another bench - we'd just have to buy one. So we managed to talk to seller down a few hundred bucks to allow for what we'll have to spend on getting that new seat. It's also got Command Start... which is a mixed blessing. On one hand, I really like the idea of being able to go through an 8-hour shift at work on a really cold day without having to go outside to start my car during my break (just click, and vroooom! Let it run a bit, and click it off again!) And warming it up a few minutes before I need to drive it home is also a bonus. On the other hand, we have an attatched garage, and toddlers.... and I've heard horror stories of toddlers finding their parents' keys and hitting the remote-start button, causing the vehicle to quietly turn on in the closed garage and gassing everyone in the house to death with carbon monoxide. Ick. Maybe I'll hide (or disable) the remote start and just deal with the cold weather. Hm... or maybe I'll see if I can leave my starter at work. Knowing how many times Kalen has found and played with the garage-door-opener, I don't wanna risk the very good chance that she'll find this delightful new button to push. Hmmmmmmm.... On a completely different topic: I got my performance review at work today. I wasn't expecting it (which is probably for the best, or I'd have been nervous... particularly about the broken fax machine...) but my manager came in just as I was getting off shift and asked if we could sit down together and do it. So we did. The only bad thing on it - at all - was that my manager was disappointed the clinic would be losing me during my upcoming Maternity leave. Not bad, eh? I'll be getting a raise, too.... but it unfortunately comes into effect about 2 days before I go on Mat Leave. (sigh) Life is silly, sometimes. Kay... done typing for now. More later. |
| Thurs, Nov 20, 2003 (1:00pm) Kalen: Mommy! MOMMY! Some HELP!!!!!! Help please, in the BATHROOM! Raven: What is it, Kalen? Do you need some help going to the potty? You're a big girl, you can do it yourself! Kalen: NOooooooOOOOOOoo! Kalen is all done going potty. Some help with a toilet! PLEASE!!! Raven: Okay, Mommy's coming. What seems to be the matt - (wince) Uhhhhhh. Kalen: See, Mommy! The toilet is full of water! Kalen is flushing and flushing and - Raven: NO! Kalen, don't flush it again! The toilet is overflowing. Do you know what "overflowing" means? Kalen: Um..... means.... a flood? Raven: Yes, it means we have another flood on our hands. Very good work remembering that word, by the way. Now... what could be causing this particular flood? Kalen: Um..... Raven: Kale, sweetie, what is this on the floor? Kalen: An empty toilet paper roll, Mommy? Raven: Sweetie, did you put ALL the toilet paper from the roll into the toilet? Kalen: Um.. Yes? Raven: Do you know what this means, oh-my-daughter-and-the-delight-of-my-days? Kalen: Means we need a new roll of Toilet Paper! Raven: Ah... yes. That too. But it mostly means that ALL the toilet paper from this roll is stuck in that little hole down there. Do you see the hole? The tiny hole in the bottom of the toilet with all the fluffy white toilet paper stuck in it? (Mommy braces herself and reaches in to pull out a wad of sodden toilet paper, by means of demonstration). Kalen, peering into the depths of the water-filled bowl: Yuck. Raven: Okay, now Mommy is going to need to use the plunger, Kale. This is a Mommy job, alright? Only Mommies and Daddies are allowed to use the plunger on the toilet. Got that? Kalen: Okay, Mommy. Kalen will just watch. Raven: Good girl. Here we go.... (Sploosh) (sploooosh) (squoooosh) (Squarsh) (Squooooog) (Squooooogleoooogle gurgle gurgle glug glug glug) Kalen: Yay!!!! (clapping with glee) Mommy made it all better! No more flood!!! Raven, while washing hands vigourously with hot soapy water: Now, Kalen - what have learned? And before you say "Toilet plungers are fun" I will give you a hint: The correct answer has to do with NOT throwing all the toilet paper into the toilet. Okay? So.. what have we learned? Kalen: What have we learned? Um... We learned about a toilet flood! And.. um... NOT throwing all the toilet paper in the toilet. Raven: Very good. So what will we do next time? Are you going to use all the toilet paper next time? Kalen: Um.. no. Just one little piece. Okay? Raven: Goood!!!! (hugging a slightly damp girl) From now on, just ONE piece of toilet paper. Well.... two is okay for a poop. But NOT the whole roll. Got it? Now, please - wash your hands, and get a dry shirt on. Kalen: Yes, Mommy! No more floods! Kalen doesn't like floods. Will talk to Daddy, and Gramma, and Star, and Daddy.. about NO MORE FLOODS in the toilet. Not to use whole roll of toilet paper in toilet. Gets stuck in a hole. Just ONE piece now. Good Kalen! ...and she bounces off, another one of life's little lessons learned. I hope. |
| Thurs, Nov 20, 2003 (12:15pm) Found this little gem buried in Corin's page of quizzes:  You are a Steamrunner-class Destroyer, Starfleet's prodigal black sheep. You are unique in your own right. Your unconventional attitude surprises all. Skeptics will find that your alternative methods of dealing with things go above and beyond the norm. Which Class of Federation Starship are you? brought to you by Quizilla Ahh.. yeah. Anyway, gaming last night was fun. I'm very glad it happened, even though my players didn't/couldn't show up until 11pm, and we had to play until 3am to get any decent RP in. And I'm tired this morning. Go figure. |
| Wed, Nov 19, 2003 (12:15pm) Oh, the weather outside is frightful, But the fire is so delightful, And since we've no place to go, Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. It doesn't show signs of stopping, And I brought some corn for popping; The lights are turned way down low, Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. Mmmm. Yeah.... The movie last night was fantastic, by the way. I'm looking forward to the second volume. Not sure when it comes out, but I'll try to catch it earlier than we did with this one - We managed to see the last showing at City Center, before they stopped running it. When we left the theater, they already had signs up for a different flick, starting this week. Ah, well.. Kill Bill will be out on DVD soon enough, neh? |
| Tues, Nov 18, 2003 (4:15pm) Anyone interested in seeing Kill Bill tonight, 10:10 showing at City Center? Here's an open invite to come and watch it with me, Bregon, Don, Wally, and whoever else shows up. Today has been good. My Mom's morning volunteer thing was cancelled, so she offered to come and watch the kids early (She had been planning to come over in the afternoon anyways so I could catch a Dr. app't). I readily accepted, and spent the late morning doing so early Christmas shopping, and picking up some things which will be sent to friends and relatives via parcel post in the next few days (Yes, Jodi - I got your dropjes!). Connor is finally looking like he's getting over the bug which has had him in its grip for the last week and a bit. Kalen is still being good. I got 8 hours of sleep last night. Life is wonderful. Also wonderful is my husband, who gave me my Christmas present early: the Boxed DVD set of BBC's Robin of Sherwood! I followed that series when it aired way-back-when and have all but one episode on tape. Tapes, however, take up a lot of room, and my copies were off-TV-dubs, or dubs-of-dubs (editted to remove commercials) so they weren't top quality. The prospect of watching the series on DVD between now and Christmas is very appealing. I love Shades. I really do. He's...... (insert warm mushy glowing look here) ... amazing. And I don't think it's just the pregnant hormones saying that. |
| Mon, Nov 17, 2003 (12:10am) Yesterday was Kalen and Connor's birthday party. Kalen turned 3 on Sept 28th, Connor will be turning 2 on Dec 7th. We decided to combine the agony into one single party half-way between the two dates. I am glad we did. The house was filled with rampant toddlers, good friends, relatives, candy, cake, coffee, streamers, balloons, presents, shouts of joy, shrieks of frustration, music, toy drums, loud conversation, and all the stuff which one associates with parties in the toddler set. It was a trial. It was also a lot of fun... especially once things had mostly calmed down and the kids were all watching Finding Nemo, and the adults could communicate amongst eachother without resorting to shouting, sign language, or semaphore. I also learned a valuable lesson or two: 1) Do not promise your willful daughter that she may have purple icing on her cake until you check whether you have both red AND blue food coloring in the house. 2) In a pinch, red berry syrup can be used as red food coloring; and a person can make a very reasonable blue food-coloring substitute by throwing half a dozen blue smarties into a glass with a tablespoon of milk, sloshing them around until the milk turns blue, and then pouring it into the icing. Kudos to my Mom for her awesome ideas. (I wonder if she ever had willful toddlers to deal with?) On an unrelated note... Somacrow tossed me this link, which I got a kick out of: http://www.bad-candy.com/candies/dubbelzout/. Those who mock my dutch licorice fixation may also find it amusing. One last thing: I'm putting together a package to send to Anna in the next week. (Hi Anna! How's China?) If anyone wants to send anything along, get it to me by Thursday, and I'll toss it in. S'all for now. |
| Sun, Nov 16, 2003 (11:50am) Near Death Experiences Lots has happened. Haven't had time to blog much. I got to bed late(ish) Thursday night after updating my blog. I woke very early in the morning (7:30?) to a panicked shout from Shades. He immediately started calling Kalen's name, in that way people do when their child is badly hurt. I shook myself out of my morning stupor and came dashing downstairs to find Kalen looking terrified, and Shades holding Connor in his arms. Connor was limp and groggy, but obviously alive. No blood anywhere. Nothing to indicate that something was wrong other than the scared/relieved look on Shades' face. Then I saw Connor's crib. It was filled - almost to overflowing - with every toy Kalen could get her hands on, plus all the laundry, every blanket within toddler reach, pillows, stuffed animals, the entire contents of the change-table, and several other things besides. It looked like a land-fill pit. Shades had apparently come downstairs, on his way to work in the morning, to discover Kalen was already awake and playing... in Connor's room. He found Connor completely buried in his crib, and (rightfully) was scared that his son might have suffocated in the mess. (Connor has been sick and feverish for the better part of the week, and hasn't been in any condition to protest having toys dumped on his head. He may even have slept through the whole thing, he's so exhausted lately.) Luckily, Connor was still alive and breathing under all that, but it was quite the adrenaline-raising experience. So I spent a good part of the morning discussing with Kalen what "choking" means, and "suffocation" and "not able to breathe". We even did a little (very controlled) demo of what it feels like when there is a hand over your mouth and you can't get air in... it seemed to drive the point home to Kalen, who spent the rest of the day telling her dollies "Never put things over baby's face!" and "Dolly, don't cover Kalen's mouth - she can't breathe!". I guess it's best that we had this learning experience now, and not after the new baby's arrival. Connor's made out of pretty tough stuff, but I'm not sure how a newborn would have handled it. Needless to say, Friday was a looong day. You just don't go back to bed comfortably after an experience like that. Kalen and I stayed up (Connor went back to bed after antibiotics and tylenol) and we talked and played and cleaned the house. Star came over for the afternoon, and we worked on photo albums together. There was D&D gaming in the evening, and I was too exhausted to play. (Being up early, not having a nap, and being sick as well as pregnant, really saps a lot of energy. So instead of gaming, I loitered in the livingroom and babbled with Star for a while. Then I decided to feed my fish and go to bed. This is where the second near-death experience came in. Not for me or one of my kids or friends, luckily. But one of my fish decided to leap out of the tank as I gave them their evening feeding. Stupid fish! I barely even saw it. Just a flash of red as I was closing the lid - and a little wet "spluck" sound on the floor. The floor beside the fishtank... which also happens to be behind the table wedged next to the couch and blocked by a toybox (all to keep the kids away from the electrical cords behind the tanks). I made a strangled cry and rapidly began throwing toys and trying to drag the furniture out of the corner so I could get to the poor stupid fish before it expired on my carpet. Star must have though I was just a little nuts. Personally, I think I was a little nuts, too. But ya see - I hate handling live fish. I absolutely loathe their slimy little bodies wriggling and writhing in my hands. The only thing I hate more, however, is holding a dead fish. So I wanted to get that stupid thing back into the tank before the adrenaline wore off and the revulsion took over. I managed to do it... with only a stubbed toe, a livingroom in disarray, and a gently abused ego. Gah - I looked like an idiot, trying to coax a flopping fish to flip itself into my hand, whle trying to avoid contact with it at the same time, and making noises like a teenage girl faced with a boy holding a toad. Bleah. But all was well once the fish was back in the tank. It's still alive today. So is Connor (despite remaining quite sick). So's the rest of the family. All is well in the world. Really. |
| Fri, Nov 14, 2003 (1:15am) According to the Dr., Connor has Bronchitis (again). No surpise, there. But apparently, it also looks like Connor has Strep Throat, which is the cause of his high fever, lack of interest in food, and general irritability at night. So he's on antibiotics now (which were not in-stock at the first pharmacy I went to... so I had to make a second trip to a different pharmacy where it was available). He's still on Tylenol, too, but since starting the antibiotics his fever seems to be coming down a little. And tonight I dscovered that he's also cut a new tooth: the last of his canines to come through. The poor guy seems to get it all at once (which means that as parents, we get it all at once, too). I really shouldn't complain. I'm actually in a pretty good state right now: Almost completely over my bug. Don't need to work this weekend. Happy and well-fed from dinner with friends on Wednesday night. And Kalen is not only being well-behaved (not getting into much mischief) but actually being helpful by finding me Connor's sippy cup, turning on lights for me when it starts to get dark, offering Connor cheerios to eat, and even bringing me the remote control/kleenex/phone on request when I'm stuck in a chair with a sleeping baby and don't want to get up for fear of waking him. Life isn't specatacular, but it's a long ways from terrible. So I tried to share the goodwill with Shades today when he came home from work. Instead of dashing off to BP's and ditching him with the kids, I watched them for a while so he could relax a bit, and get some writing done on his Nanowrimo project. And then, since it was suppertime, I fed the kids. And medicated Connor. And changed diapers. And played with the kids. And helped them brush their teeth. And got Connor ready for bed. And watched a DVD with Kale. And settled Connor for the night. And got Kalen ready for bed. And I probably would have settled Kalen down too, except Shades resurfaced around 9:30pm and I decided I wanted to go to BP's soon so that I might get home before midnight. I did get home before midnight, too - but then Connor was awake so I spent some time re-settling him, and doing a little tidying, and answering some email. There's still a bit more tidying to do, but I think I'll leave the last bit for Shades. I'm gonna go relax & have a bath or something, and then go to bed. Tomorrow might be another long day. |
| Thurs, Nov 13, 2003 (11:30am) Connor is sick. This is not a surprise since I came down with a bug on Sunday, and Kalen seemed to be suffering from the same bug by Monday. But Connor didn't get sick 'til late Tues, when Kalen and I were already starting to feel better. Unlike Kalen and I, Connor has been hit pretty hard - he's been running a fever since Tuesday night, and yesterday it was clocking in around 39.5 degrees. We've been giving him Tylenol q4h yesterday and thru the night. This morning his fever is 39.8, and Tylenol isn't bringing it down much. Plus, Connor (my usually active, bouncy boy who - despite yesterday's fever - was running all over the house playing) is being very listless today. I put him on the livingroom couch this morning, and he hasn't moved off of it in the last 2 hours. So, we're off to the Doctor's office. (sigh). Well.. I had wanted to get out of the house today. |
| Wed, Nov 12, 2003 (12:35pm) Lemming that I am, I saw a Personality Quiz on Pixie's page, and had to go take it, too. Here's my results:
I'm not sure about the 'unpretentious' bit under Conscious Self, but the Overall Self description feels pretty accurate... especially the bit about 'probably too high'. And yeah, before people question the 'introvert' bit, I do consider myself an introvert. I'll admit to being a very social introvert, but introversion/extroversion is not based on whether you spend time with others or not: it's a question of where you get your energy from... where you "recharge" so to speak. I enjoy spending time with friends, but it takes energy out of me. I recharge when I'm alone (often at home, reading a book or playing solitare on the computer). On a tangential note (nothing to do with personality tests, but a good bit to do with Pixie), I've been given permission to post this lovely pic on my blog (click on it for the good version):  Accomplishment of the Day: Moved 3 months worth of entries off this page and into archives. Hopefully things will load a little faster now, neh? |
| Tues, Nov 11, 2003 (9:20pm) Accomplishment of the Day: Finally got around to watching the Grave of the Fireflies DVD, which I picked up nearly a year ago. I figured it was a good pick for watching on Remembrance Day, since it's about a couple of kids in WWII Japan. Very good movie. (And Wally - you were right. I cried. Don't think I can even blame hormones for it, either. It was just that sort of movie.) |
| Tues, Nov 11, 2003 (12:25pm) Remembrance Day. It never meant much to me when I was a kid... just an excuse for a holiday, really... but now that I'm older and I have a family which I would fight for (or at least fear for, since I'd be unlikely to do any government-sponsored fighting at this point in my life) during a war, it means a lot more to me. So, although I doubt any veterans will read my blog, I wanted to say Thank You to anyone in the forces who has helped keep our country free, as well as to the families who have lost loved ones in wars past. One day a year is really not enough to thank you for what you've sacrificed for us. That's it for today, I think. I'm gonna go back to being sick. Hopefully it won't take me a week and a half to get over, like Eric (poor guy. He didn't get a week of R&R after DungeonQuest like I did in which to recover, and he's paying for it now.) |
| Sat, Nov 8, 2003 (12:15pm) Does anyone know when the lunar eclipse is supposed to happen, tonight? I s'pose I could look it up online, but I'm feeling lazy. Maybe I'll get up the energy to do a quick search after I've had a shower. Mmm..... shower.... Accomplishment of the Day: Processed pics from the Quest. They are available here if you want to see them. While processing pics, I also tossed up a scan of my ultrasound, if you care:  It's not the classic baby profile pic usually taken by ultrasound techs, 'cuz the baby refused to stop doing summersaults for the pic. So here s/he is, mid-filp. |
| Fri, Nov 7, 2003 (7:05pm) Mmmm.. our house smells like Chicken Cacciatore today. I wish gamers would hurry and show up for our Friday D&D game so we could eat. Bah - Gamers can take their time if they want. The kids need to eat, so I'll eat with them. Maybe I'll eat again when gamers show up. I feel hungry. Accomplishment of the Day: I found our lost garage door opener while hunting high and low for a misplaced picture frame, today. Yay me! |
| Tues, Nov 4, 2003 (4:45pm) The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly I was going to make a list, like Pixie does, of 10.5 good things, and 10.5 bad things... but the numbers of good and bad weren't adding up. Plus, some of them needed to be side-by-side for comparison. So, I'm doing a variant: Good: Shades and I both got our paycheques last Friday, so I paid the bills this weekend. Bad: Some of the bills were kinda big, so now we have less than $100 to live on for the next two weeks. Ugly: Our Energy bill was the highest of the bills I paid. I won't go into the gory details, but it definitely qualified as ugly. And with winter here, it's only gonna get worse. Particularly 'cuz I like to leave all the lights on all the time, to combat the low light levels outside. Good: My Mom came over to watch the kids for a couple hours today, so I could get out of the house. Mom's great for this... I really enjoy it when I can get 2 or 3 hours of 'free' time during the week to go out just for myself, without kids in tow. Bad: Instead of going out & having fun, I used that free time to hit IGA for the 'First Tuesday 10% off groceries' special. It was busy in IGA. Very busy. With lots of line-ups and annoying people leaving their carts to block the isles. Ugly: Ugly is trying to hit IGA on 1st-Tues with the kids in tow, or after 5pm when Shades gets home and everyone else (and their dog) is trying to buy groceries. So really, I'm grateful that I could avoid that situation today, even if it cost me my 'free' time. Good: Our driveway and walks are now shovelled. Bad: There was 3 days accumulation of heavy snowfall on our walks. I had said I'd do it, 2 days ago, and didn't get around to it.. so I paid for it today. Ugly: That 3-day accumulation included dozens of trick-or-treaters packing down the snow on the sidewalks, and 3 days of Shades and I taking our cars over the driveway, in & out of the garage. So that shovelling was mostly hard-packed, crunchy, needing-to-be-chipped-an-inched-at-a-time kinda stuff. Bah. Good: I got plenty of excercise shovelling the snow. Bad: I know - just know - that some of the people reading this blog are gonna ask, "WHY was she shovelling snow while pregnant?? Does she want to harm the baby??" So before you get tangled up in yourself, let me assure you that shovelling, when done right, does not place undue strain on the pelvic muscles... it's mostly arms and back which do the work, and those are perfectly fine to excercise while pregnant. I'm just careful not to lift large heavy shovel-fulls of snow when I'm in my 3rd Trimester, kay? Ugly: Ugly was the look I gave my neighbors 2 years back when they saw me shovelling snow in early December and asked, "Why are you doing that? What if you go into labour?"... I was around 9 and 1/2 months pregnant at the time, and tired of being pregnant, and I shot back with, "Yeah, well I'm already 2 weeks overdue and if I spontaneuously go into labour from shovelling snow, then IT'S ABOUT TIME! I'm just pissed that it's not working yet! Do you want me to shovel your walk, too?" Hm.. I guess I may have been just a touch hormonal, at the time. Good: Shades made delicious home-made chicken noodle soup yesterday, and I was able to come in and warm up to a bowl of it after shovelling the walks. That was lovely. Bad: Um... nothing bad about that at all, really. Except maybe that now there's not enough soup to serve for supper. But that's okay, 'cuz I bought lots of good food at IGA and have a nice stew on for dinner. Mmmmmmm... Ugly: Nope, nothing ugly about this, either. Well, the rotten potato I found smelled ugly, but that's pretty minor. Life is good. Yeah... life is good. Accomplishment of the Day: Buying enough food to live on for the next two weeks (give or take the milk & juice. We'll have to restock on that by the weekend. It never lasts around here.) Now I have the ingredients in the house for making Chicken Cacciatore, and Spaghetti with Meat sauce, and French Country Fried Chicken, and 87th ave Stew, and Roast Pork & Garlic mashed Potatos, and Kingsway Casserole, and other good winter-time meals. |
| Mon, Nov 3, 2003 (1:25am) The story of the Gameboy and the Toilet... It's not all that exciting, really, but since someone asked, I shall tell the tale. It started on a quiet Sunday. Imagine, if you will, the devoted mother of two adorable children (who would never get up to mischief of any sort) enjoying a round or two of solitare on the computer, relaxing after a hectic morning of making pancakes, wiping maple syrup from sticky fingers, and having to explain 3 dozen times that sitting on the breakfast table is a no-no. Imagine at the same time, the father of these cute kids lying asleep in bed, catching a well-deserved early Sunday afternoon nap. The children play merrily in the background. The TV finishes the last strains of a VeggieTales cartoon song. All is well in the world. Then the 3-yr old announces that she needs to run to the bathroom. She is, of course, encouraged to do so if the need has presented itself, and reminded not to dawdle on the way, nor to goof off and get distracted during the task at hand. Thus admonished, she runs off. A few moments later, the almost-2-yr old realizes his sister has deserted him, and toddles off to investigate. Normally, this would not be a problem. But alas, despite earlier admonitions, the 3-yr old has indeed become distracted in the bathroom, hears her brother at the door, and decides to let him in. The sounds of brother- and sisterly love emanate from the bathroom. Connor and Kalen, like many siblings of their age, express their love for eachother by shouting, screaming, and pushing. Eventually Kalen comes running to her loving mother in the livingroom pleading, "Make Connor get OUT! Is not finished peeing yet!" She emphasizes her point by showing me that she is not wearing any pants or underwear, having been distracted in the middle of her business. I roll my eyes and contemplate the game of solitare on the screen. It is going well. I know that if I leave it - even for a moment - the cards will conspire against me, and I will not be able to finish the deck. So I turn my attention back to my progeny, and dispense maternal advice. Kalen ponders my advice and then looks at me, aghast. "But I don't want to 'Suck it up Princess'!" "Just go back there and kick him out, then! Mommy is trying to relax. Can't I have just a teeny little bit of relaxation, please?" She returns to the bathroom, and further shouting ensues. Eventually, the noises die down, and the two of them seem to work something out. At a guess, to my experienced ears, the older sister has decided to fall back on age-old tactics of bribery and distraction. She seems to be offering the toddler various bathtub toys and random bathroom implements in order to keep him distracted while she finishes up with her business. I don't care. The solitare game is offering me a lovely spread of cards, and it looks like I may actually win this game. A couple minutes later, as the computer chirps cheerfully in the happy strains of a solved solitare game, Kalen comes running back into the livingroom. She has her pants (and presumably her underwear) on now, and is waving something aloft. It is green. It is dripping. It is.... "My Gameboy!!!" "Yes Mommy!"Kalen confirms gleefully."Is your Gameboy! Connor threw it in a Toilet! Kalen got it out!!" I take the dripping electronic device from her. Turning it upside down, water drains from its every crack and crevice. Oh, my poor Gameboy. My beloved electronic distraction. My TETRIS cartridge! I turn the power off (yes, it had been on) and pull the cartidge out. I shake both vigourously. I almost cry. "Why, Kalen... WHY did you give Connor the Gameboy? You know he can't play Tetris! Mommy keeps the Gameboy way high up on the shelf so little kids like Connor don't play with it. You know Gameboys don't belong in the toilet, but Connor doesn't understand that! Why did you have to let him into the bathroom in the first place??" My tirade is cut short, however, by the sound of a door closing. The bathroom door, to be precise. I give the Gameboy one last shake and put it down, deciding to get Connor out of the bathroom before he can cause any more trouble. I get to the bathroom door, and try to open it. I can't. It's not locked - that would be too easy to solve. No, it's blocked. It's blocked by an open drawer. Ya see, our bathroom counter has a set of three drawers in it - on the side next to the door - and if any of the drawers are open while the door is closed, they effectively act as a door-bar. You can't open the door until the drawer is closed. Connor has gone and opened the lower drawer, and effectively sealed himself into the bathroom. I call his name. He makes happy noises, but for the most part ignores me. I ask, "Connor, please close the drawer? Close it! Please? Come and shut the drawer? Connor! Come to the bathroom door, and CLOSE the drawer. You know what 'close' means! I know you do! Come and show Mommy what a big boy you are. CLOSE the drawer." I hear Connor giggling. I hear him crawling away. I hear the sound of water splashing in the toilet. (I resolve not to think about whether Kalen remembered to flush the toilet after emptying her potty into it - it just doesn't bear thinking about. Oh, my poor Gameboy...) I coax, I plead, I call Connor back - none of it does any good. I feel like an idiot lying in the hallway trying to peek under the bathroom door and begging my recalcitrant little toddler to let Mommy into the bathroom. So I ransack my brain for another way to solve this problem. When Kalen managed the same trick (during her toddler-hood) I discovered that it is nearly impossible to get the drawer shut from oputside the bathroom. You can open the bathroom door almost an inch before it hits the drawer, but you can't actually reach the drawer to shut it - at least not properly... you can just wiggle it back and forth a bit. You also can't close the bathroom door and reach up to get the drawer - the angle (dipping down as the carpet turns into lino and then up again to reach the drawer) is impossible for the human hand - even very flat skinny ones like mine. It's also impossible for fingers slipped under the door to hold onto a ruler or pencil or stick or other implement to use to whack the drawer shut from below. A coat hanger could be bent into the right 'L' shape to slide under the door and then up - but it doesn't have the strength to get the drawer pushed back in. Not to mention that we have a dearth of wire coat hangers 'cuz I hate them and have replaced them all with plastic or solid metal hangers. What did I do the time Kale got stuck? I coaxed her to the door with candy, and waited until she bumped the drawer closed accidentally. Okay - so I go get a package of Smarties. I shake a few under the door, to get Connor's attention. As planned, he comes crawling to the door and eagerly gobbles them up. I shake a few more under the door, contunuing my litany of "Shut the drawer, Connor! Close the bathroom drawer! C'mon... you can do it. Just close the drawer. Close it like we taught you to close the ones in the kitchen. Connor, close the drawer, sweetie! Here's another Smartie, just be a good boy and close the drawer!" He loves it - the attention, the Smarties, everything. But when the candy runs out, he has not yet closed the drawer. Grrr. I listen as Connor crawls away again, and get really frustrated. "CLOSE IT!" I shout. SLAM! i hear the sound of - not a drawer, but a toilet lid - closing. Well, at least he's not playing in toilet water anymore. I crouch down to look under the door some more. I can't see Connor anywhere. He appears to be climbing/have climbed on top of the closed toilet lid. He is trying to get up onto the counter. Shit. Connor knows how to climb up to the counter top, you see, but the problem is that he does not actually know how to get down afterwards. In the past, his only way down has been by falling. I imagine my poor son, toppling off the bathroom countertop and bashing his head on the stupid open drawer, getting a concussion, lying there bleeding and/or unconscious, with me unable to get to him because the STUPID DRAWER IS STILL OPEN! Then I remember my poor Gameboy, lying in a drippy wet puddle in the livingroom. Somehow, an unconscious toddler doesn't seem like such a bad thing anymore. So there I stand, locked outside my bathroom while my son engages in potentially life threatening activities. I wonder to myself if it's worth breaking the door down right now, or if I should wait for Connor to fall/climb down, and see if he's conscious enough to play another round of 'Please close the door' afterwards. Or maybe I should try to think of some other method of opening the door which doesn't involve bloodshed or property damage. Hmmm. There are a number of household implements I haven't tried slipping under the door yet.. maybe one of them would work.. but I'd have to leave the bathroom door to search for them, and what if Connor falls while I'm gone? Not like I could do anything about it even if I was there, but... Queue our Hero's entry: Daddy has awoken from his slumber. Shades, still shrugging on his bathrobe, slowly emerges from our master bedroom. He squints in the bright afternoon light. He looks confused, like someone woken by his wife's frustrated shouting. "Is Connor stuck in the bathroom?" he asks. I explain the situation to him. I also take a moment to point out the sodden Gameboy in the other room, to illustrate the way my day is rapidly going from bad to worse. He hmmmms. The two of us discuss a few ideas, most of which I've already tried (No, we don't have any wire coathangers and besides they would bend. No, you can't jiggle the drawer shut. No, you can't sneak your fingers around the door.) Shades furrows his brows, and then wanders off to the garage. i assume he's going to see what he has - in his manly array of tools - which might be able to assist us in this quest to retreive our imprisoned son. He returns, instead, with a bow rack. If you don't know what a bow rack is, this doesn't shock me. Most people don't, and even fewer happen to have a bow rack kicking around in their garage. Basically, it's a metal rack - a folding one in our case - used to place bows on when you are doing archery practice or or just storing bows in the back of your gear tent at an SCA war. We haven't taken our rack to a war since the SCA changed its rules for Light combat.. but the bow rack still has a place in our garage, hanging on the wall. And... the bow rack happens to be made of a slightly bendable metal (you need a good straong set of hands, and maybe a knee, to bend it over.. but you can do it). So Shades disassembles the rack, takes advantage of a pre-existing L-shaped angle, makes a couple bends so the rest of the rack isn't in the way, and slips the metal bar under the bathroom door. It goes in a little less than a meter before the 'L' bend, and then Shades twists it up (so we've got one end pointed up, vertically, inside the bathroom, and one end stretched out horizontally under the door). He gives a good counter-clockwise twist on our end which causes the in-bathroom-end to swing hard against the drawer. The drawer closes. The bathroom door can now be opened! Well... it can be opened once the stupid metal bar from the bow rack is removed. Shades removes the bar. He is rewarded for his heroism with the kisses of an affectionate woman, and (moments later) with the screams of a diappointed toddler whose fun time alone in the bathroom has come to an end. The day is saved! But my Gameboy remains soggy for the next 48 hours. (sigh). |
