For the Love of Quilts.

I started making quilts in 2001. My friend Cathy and I took a quilting class together at Quilter's Quarters in North Toronto. I think our favourite part was picking out the fabric and the weekly gossip sessions that ensued over the 8 week course. After that I was hooked. I started out simply, making a quilt for my friend Dave who had moved to Japan, and then one for our new (to us) house.

My mom and Jennifer are also quilters. We each have our own distinct style and I love this. While I enjoy the piecing of the quilts (sewing the actual blocks of the quilts), Jennifer prefers the quilting part (when the quilt is sewn together with it's inner padding and back). I've joked with her in the past that I should just send her my quilt tops once I finish them and have her quilt them for me as that is my least favourite part. My mom is a quilting superstar and she is much more adventurous than me. Most of the quilts in these pictures are made by her.

This is a quilt I made when we bought our house. In this picture I'm asleep with Max and our cat Samba. I believe he is under a week old in this picture (which is why I'm so tired):

I made this tulip quilt for Maya, our friends Brad and Jen's first baby:

The most complex quilt I've made is this heart quilt. It was a Christmas gift for my mom. If you look closely you can see that the pink hearts have 4 different fabrics, and the red hearts also have 4 different fabrics:
My mom has made Max many quilts. I believe this one was started before we knew I was going to have a boy (that's how excited my mom was about her first grand baby):

Once my mom found out she was going to have a grandson, she of course had to make a blue quilt as well!: Max's Aunt Jennifer also made him a quilt (and trust me, you can never have enough baby quilts!). I think this picture was taken the day he came home from the hospital:
When Max was having trouble sleeping at daycare, his Occupational Therapists recommended a weighted quilt. Grandma stepped in and made him the perfect quilt, exactly 10% of his body weight and soft flannel material:
For Christmas this year she made him a bigger, slightly heavier one. It has become a favourite of everyone in our house:Somewhere along the line, my mom also made the two quilts on the back of the couch (that's me and my bro Daniel with Max). I believe the first one was for Scott and my first apartment together, and the red heart one was for my birthday a few years ago:Not to worry, Cameron has gotten her fair share of quilt love. This is the quilt that Aunt Jennifer made for her. Cameron celebrated being sick this month by barfing all over it. This is the true sign of a loved quilt:
Grandma made Cameron 2 quilts - one to decorate her nursery wall:
And one for her to sleep with and play on:
These quilts have been there for the most important parts of our lives (and there are at least three more that I have made that I don't have pictures of!). I love that every quilt has a story, and when you snuggle under one, you can feel the love that went into making it. I need to start quilting again.

Max Update: Pure Joy.

Despite being sick this past week, Max has had an explosion of progress. Yesterday he requested to go to the bathroom and then had a BM in the toilet! And then he peed (also in the toilet!). Imagine that! He has also mastered stringing beads, something we have been working on for months. A few days ago he was playing with one of his car/ramp toys, and when Cameron came and sat down with him and started playing with the same toy, he took turns with her instead of pushing her away. We joked that the only reason they were playing nicely together is that they were both sick, but I'll take it!
I also got a report today that Max actually drank water from a straw this afternoon in therapy! He has also mastered blowing horns in his speech therapy sessions (this is a picture of me learning how to work on this with him). A few months ago he wouldn't even tolerate having the horn touch his lips. The ups and downs of this journey are exhilarating and exhausting. We celebrate the ups - the successes are what keep us going.

We Be Illin', Chillin'.

As it turns out, it wasn't only Cameron who got sick last night. After I got Cam to bed, I checked in on Max and he had also thrown up all over his bed. Ugh. This was the beginning of a very long night for all of us. Within a couple of hours I joined the ranks of the ill and succumbed to pukedom (and other wonderful blessings I will not share with you here but I'm sure you can guess).We called Nana & Bumpa to see if they were sick and sure enough, Nana was down for the count. Bumpa followed shortly thereafter and Scott (our last man standing), fell this morning. The kids slept on and off all day, Scott and I rotated between them trying to keep it together as best we could. Cam and I seem to be on the mend, Max and Scott not so much. I'm hoping we're all back to normal in a few days (or else I'm going to need another night off with Christine!).

Great Food, Great Friend, Great Music.

I had a terrific night in Toronto with my friend Christine. She made me dinner, we went to hear The Bad Plus, and we pseudo watched SNL, but mostly chatted and played with her dog Max (I know...). Then this morning, I slept in, she made me breakfast, and sent me on my way back home. As I write this, Cam is laying next to me on the bed, still sick (she just barfed all over both of us). Everyone else is watching Super Bowl and we are self-quarantined in my bedroom. It's okay, looks like the Colts are going to win anyway (boo....).

The Best Laid Plans...

It was, of course, too good to be true.

• Tickets purchased weeks in advance to see The Bad Plus tonight.
• Nana & Bumpa lined up to have Cameron sleep over.
• Plans for pedicures and dinner made.
• My bag packed (in my head) to stay at my friend Christine's place.
• Wine chilled.

And as I opened the door to Cameron's room this morning, the smell hit me, and all those plans crumbled to the ground. There is no mistaking it, the smell of vomit. It's especially nasty when it is someone else's vomit. Cameron had apparently thrown up at some point in the night and inexplicably decided to sleep in her barf instead of summon us to come get her. She looked a little confused as I picked her up, keeping her at arm's length and brought her into the washroom to give her a bath. Scott headed for the hills (he's the poop whisperer, I deal with the barf - a fair trade from a frequency perspective).

Cameron howled as I scrubbed her down, and I mentally started scratching items off my list and adding new ones:

• strip crib sheets
• get pedialyte
• wait and see if Cam is indeed terribly ill and all plans must be cancelled or if this is a little bug and maybe I can still go to the concert
• laundry

At this point, it looks like dinner and the show can be salvaged, pedicures are probably not an option. Crossing my fingers that I can crash at Christine's (or else I might as well leave the wine here). Wish me luck. (Cam has now eaten toast, had a half bottle of milk and is walking around with a plastic strainer on her head, so I'm thinking she's on the mend).

Morning Smile.

Mac and cheese is always a sure winner with Cam. This is her blowing on it because she has deemed it too "hot hot".

Welcome Twenty-Ten! (Can I Get an Amen?).

I went to bed at 9:45pm last night (quite the party animal I know). Part of me felt like I should stay up just to make sure that 2009 was ushered out, the door locked firmly behind it. What a year. There were some highlights for sure. Max made amazing progress. Cam changed from a baby to a little individual before our eyes. I was selected as Mabel's Labels Official BlogHer Correspondent, participated in the Autism Speaks walk in Toronto, witnessed the miracle of life, and braved my college reunion. But when I look back at 2009, I will always remember it as our first year of dancing with Autism. Wading through the bureaucratic muck trying to get Max funding. Feeling like the only people who really got what we were going through were stuck in the muck with us.2010 will be a better year. In fact, 2010 is going to kick 2009's butt. I'm not discounting the good stuff, but I am looking forward to topping it with even better stuff. I'm not big on resolutions, but for 2010 I am aiming to keep life calm and balanced. I know Max will continue to have amazing progress (he seems to have new words daily at this point). I know Cameron will continue to amaze and astonish us. I need to get back to writing on a regular basis. I need to spend more time with my friends. I need to make sure I get some time away by myself to recharge.

So, 2009, don't let the door hit ya where the good lord split ya. 2010, why don't you take your coat off and stay awhile? Can I get you something to drink?

NO!!

Cameron and Max learned how to say "NO!" this week. Specifically, Cameron learned how to say "NO!" and then Max promptly followed (which led to a super fun weekend). I shot this video on my blackberry tonight. The quality is crap because the lighting is low and Cameron is jumping all over me, but the audio is loud and clear. Oy. Wish us luck!

November? Really?

When Fickle Feline gets quiet, you can safely assume that I am completely overwhelmed with life and just trying to hang on for the ride. I wish I could tell you I was out crusading against Autism, brunching with Dalton McGuinty to get him to see the light, but most days, I am just trying to keep my head above water and be a good mom. But I do need to update more, because there is a lot to say. I just prefer to be positive, so when I'm in a head space that is "cup is half empty" instead of my usual "cup is overflowing", I tend to get introverted and not want to put that negative energy out into the universe.

But... my kids did dress up for Halloween...

And there are a lot of good things to focus on:

- tomorrow I am going to get to meet a mom who brought her son to blueballoon after reading my blog.
- the trees in my neighborhood are beautiful (yellow and orange and red)
- Max is having a lot of progress in his therapy and starting to verbally request things without a visual prompt (huge!!)
- my custom Christmas cards have arrived and are ready for me to fill out and put in the mail (maybe that will help me get in the Christmas spirit?!)

More later - I promise not to take two weeks to update either!

Video Killed Radio Star.

It's been a while since I posted a bunch of videos, so I thought I'd show everyone what we were up to on this beautiful fall day.

Cam & I discussed Obama being nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize (we think he will absolutely do something to deserve it - other than being the 1st black president, but we question the timing of it). We also seem to agree that the Ontario Government really, REALLY mishandled the whole e-Health record situation. With all that money to piss away on consultants, it blows our minds that they don't have enough money for therapy for children with special needs. For shame.


Cam likes to dance. She also likes the old skool rap, and does a pretty solid MC Hammer impression (hum "Can't Touch This" as she dances to see what I mean).



Most of the time Max prefers to steer clear of Cam, unless of course it is to give her a bop on the head. He seems to have turned a corner as he climbed into the sandbox next to her today and played right next to her for about 15 minutes. He then proceeded to give her a loving thump. Ah siblings...



Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Remember to wear your eating pants!!

I Dare You Not to Smile.

Gadget Girl strikes again (checking my blackberry email and texting my boss, no doubt):
I can't say "no" to her now, how will I manage when she actually starts asking for more than her "baba" and to be picked up?
Was there ever any question who was running the show?

Cameron: Human Whack-A-Mole In Training.

I have written before that Cameron is a gift. And not just a birthday gift either (though she was born on my birthday). She is balm for my soul. She is pure joy on the hardest days. She has a smile that warms my heart. I rarely worry about Cameron, though I do feel guilty about that fact that I don't worry about her like I worry about Max. Cameron loves her big brother. She puts up with a lot. For a few weeks she even tolerated being treated like a human whack-a-mole as Max decided a fantastic way to get attention was to bop her on the head and knock her on her butt at every opportunity. Lucky for Cameron, Max's Senior Therapist Valinda helped us sort it all out and Max has cut out the Rabbit Foo-Foo act.Cameron wants to do whatever Max is doing and he finds this terrificly annoying. As she gets bigger and more insistent, I often sit back and observe, letting them work out their sibling relationship. Of course I would step in if either of them got out of hand. I've learned that Cameron has it in her to cry "wolf" and that we need to be aware of that. She is also not above biting Max, which is an issue because he is oblivious to pain and she could really do damage and we wouldn't know until we saw the evidence. Most of the time their relationship is normal though, and through thick and thin, I am so happy for Max that he has a little sister.
The thing that cracks me up the most about Cameron is her love of gadgets. This girl loves remote controls, blackberrys, cell phones, wireless mice, and laptops. Even when she isn't feeling well, she finds solace in capturing a piece of technology and claiming it as her own. My kind of girl.

Beautiful Babies.

Scott on his way to drop Cam off at daycare and head into the office:Cameron finding creative ways to sit in her chair:Max enjoying his favourite snack:Captain Cameron!:My beautiful soul Max:

Start 'Em Young.

I gotta get off the sauce. Really. I thought I had kicked this nasty habit. I even blogged about how I was done with it. Little did I know it was waiting to prey on me when I was my most tired, my most vulnerable. I know I'll try to kick it again, I just have to find the strength. It won't be today. Today I had two.

Turns out Cameron has also developed a taste for the stuff, or at least she thinks it's hella fun to shake up the cans and roll them around on the floor. Hmmm...maybe I shouldn't let her play with the enemy. Or maybe it's okay, just so long as I don't let her drink it. I equate it to playing with Barbies. I played with those big-boobed, tiny waisted, gravity defying dolls well into my teens (shut up) and I turned out just fine. Sure I have a fetish for padded bras and corsets, and I am oddly attracted to men who shellack their hair and sport those orange spray tans, but I'm sure that has nothing to do with my 10 year Barbie love affair.

I know I am not alone - there are many others who love them some Diet Coke. And they don't hang their heads in shame either, they embrace it, wave their freak flag high. For now I am going to join in, until I am stronger and don't have such a deep seeded need for caffeine. One day... but not today.

Counting My Blessings.

I Think She Knows How Cute She Is.

A Farewell to Boobs.

My boobs, they are pretty incredible. And by that, I don't mean that they are spectacular in appearance (though by the constant ogling they receive, I would hazard a guess that they aren't half bad). What I do mean, is that they have done right by me, and my kids (and likely my husband). The past 4 years have not been kind to them. They went from being swollen and tender when I was preggo with Max, to getting completely abused for an entire year of breastfeeding. I weaned Max and was pregnant again within a few months so back to being swollen and tender - followed by another 14 months of breastfeeding with Cameron. And they did it - with very few complaints I might add. But as I wound down breastfeeding Cameron over the past month, I started to get very, very concerned. What had four years of hard work done to my girls? I have heard horror stories from other women about how when they weaned their last baby, their breasts all but disappeared, a mere shadow of their former perky selves. Would I be saving pennies in a pickle jar to hoist the sisters back up?
Cameron has been fully weaned for 2 weeks now.  Every day I give the girls a squeeze, check them out from different angles and assess the collateral damage.  I have even inquired with Scott as to whether or not he thinks they still look good.  Of course, he is not stupid and has said comforting things like "of course babe, they are wonderful" and "they are still more than a handful".  They are definitely different than they were before I got pregnant, but I think they have weathered the storm and come out the other side as beautiful as ever.  Resilient, that they are.  And in my opinion, they still qualify as bodacious ta-tas, even if they don't overflowith from my top anymore.  And girls, not to worry, you are officially off duty.  No more babies and no more breastfeeding.  The bakery is closed. 

Is It Bedtime Yet?

Cameron is a handful. I love her - she is my pride and joy. She likes things how she likes them. She firmly believes that we all exist to be at her beck and call. She likes to be held, does not like to be put down, and gets super pissed off when there isn't a wide selection of pacifiers available for her to choose from. Because you know, the pink one tastes different than the purple one, right?Today was a particularly challenging day. Did I mention that Cameron has also figured out that she can scream? Really loud too. It brings her great joy, especially if she can make Max scream too. Bonus points for that! So, good thing she's cute, because she has started making me ask "Is it bedtime yet?", at 6:30pm (a full 90 minutes before she usually goes to bed).  But she's so cute, I can't resist her.  Anyone feel like babysitting?

I Choose Hope.

Christopher Reeve was once quoted as saying "Once you choose hope, anything's possible". On the tough days, when I am filled with worry about what the future will bring (or not bring), I remind myself of this great man's words. I think a lot of people look at me and think I'm super strong, that I am this unstoppable force, and that's okay - most days that's probably an accurate assessment. I operate under Newton's first law of motion, that being "an object in motion tends to stay in motion". Meaning, to avoid getting stuck, or depressed, I simply keep moving, one foot in front of the other, no matter what. Sometimes I am hard to keep up with (Scott would be the first to tell you that). Those that like to take their time making decisions, or just move at a slower pace get overwhelmed by me. I can often be heard saying "let's go ahead and pull the trigger on that". As in - let's stop talking and start doing. In fact, by the time I'm talking about something, it's probably half way done.
Anyway, I'm off track here...back to "hope". I was out walking with the kids today, singing to Max, and he wasn't paying attention - it seemed like he was zoning out on me. I felt the panic rising in my chest - why isn't he looking at me? Why isn't he responding to the songs that usually get him singing? I was frustrated, and tired, and worried. We got back to the house and went into the backyard, where Max started running around, full of joy. A few minutes later he came over to the swings, where Cameron was already buckled into the seat swing (which is usually what Max uses). Instead of getting upset, he went over to the regular swing, and tried to sit in it. I helped him into it, and held onto him to make sure he wouldn't fall or lose his balance. It quickly became clear that he didn't need me, he was just fine. I called Scott out, and we marveled at the fact that our little Max was now using the big boy swing all on his own, and loving it. Just last month he wanted nothing to do with it, and today he sat on it for over 20 minutes, swinging away, with the wind blowing in his face. This is a testament to the hard work he is doing with this team at blueballoon, and especially his Occupational Therapist, Jess. So, good job Jess and good job Max! I choose hope.

Missing My Babies.