Archive - September 2013

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Words That Must Die
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A Video For A SPECIAL Sister
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His Name Isn’t Helmut
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Best Sweet Potato & Pumpkin Soup Recipe
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Garfield Was Most Likely A Zombie Cat

A Video For A SPECIAL Sister

  He wanted a way to explain to his peers about how his sister is very different from, yet exactly the same as everyone else. Our son made this video to share with his schoolmates. He said it would be easier if people would just ask him what they want to know, instead of staring or whispering or making ignorant remarks. These are his words.  These are their photos.  This is his thoughtful message. *Over the course of a week he went from class to class to share this video with his schoolmates. He started by introducing his sister who was there with him. Then he played the video and answered questions at the end. Related: Creating a “Special Needs Script“

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His Name Isn’t Helmut

Last weekend my son and I cleaned up his room. It’s concurrently heartwarming and disgusting to sort through a boy’s closet… sweaty sweat socks, a long forgotten baby blanket, a rotten apple, a picture he drew in kindergarten, a dust bunny the size of a melon nestled next to a mouldy drink cup, and the helmet he wore as a baby.   Of course I put my baby to sleep on his back. It was the safest thing to do. Plagiocephaly – or flat head syndrome — has increased 600 percent over the past 20 years, with the advent of the important life-saving “back to sleep” philosophy. My poor babe also had torticollis (unbalanced neck muscles) so he always turned his neck slightly to the left resulting in consistent pressure on the right rear side of his downy soft head.   He was a very large baby who stubbornly tried to enter the world sideways. During the last stages of labour he was stuck for a long time. He was in distress and his heart rate dropped dangerously low and doctors rushed to get him out. The aggressive use of the clamps and suction from the vacuum left our little[…]

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Best Sweet Potato & Pumpkin Soup Recipe

  Several years ago on a trip up north to watch the changing leaves (no, not like “watching the submarine races.” We really were there to look at the leaves!) my future husband and I stumbled upon a restaurant in Huntsville Ontario called, Three Guys And A Stove and we fell in love. Not with each other (that came later) but with their house soup — one cup was all it took.   The sweet and savoury Curried Sweet Potato and Pumpkin Soup was so good that we made a trip back again the next year for more. And again, and again after that.   Before you groan, “Great, ANOTHER pumpkin recipe,” rest assured, you’ll be pumped about this one. And so will your kin. I’m going out of my gourd with potential pumpkin puns here. Or dare I say, punkins? I’ll spare you the seedy details and just get on with it. The chef eventually published a book of his recipes and my husband (we had since gotten married up there a few years later) bought it for me. Now I can have my special soup any time I want. How souper is that?  

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Garfield Was Most Likely A Zombie Cat

No matter what time I go to sleep, hauling myself out of bed in the morning is a struggle. If somebody could just invent an alarm that causes the bed to propel its sleepy occupant up and out in the general direction of the coffee pot. My husband on the other hand is a chipper early bird. He bounds out of bed, no alarm necessary. My children take after him. They are up at the crack of dawn…every….day. Earlier on weekends. Apparently sleeping until 9 am while your young children fiddle with the toaster and drive themselves to school isn’t allowed, so I’ve had to make adjustments. I force myself awake at 6:30. Sometimes when I’m lucky I manage to steal another 15  minutes of precious “awake-but -with-eyelids-closed” time. I may be physically standing and blinking and stumbling around at 6:30, but my brain doesn’t actually wake until around 8 am. That hour and half in between is called the “Mombie Zone.” Mombies are known to spill coffee and step on the dog, but they won’t eat you or anything. Unless you have peanut butter on your thumb and she mistakes your hand for a slice of toast. As a[…]

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