Kids? Amirite??

I’ve wanted to be a dad since before I knew what that meant. I grew up in Ireland, the eldest in a family of four kids. Many of my cousins have four kids in their families. And then I fell in forever love with an amazing person who has three other siblings. Basically, I’d been conditioned to believe that four was the perfect number of kids in a family. 

Then I moved to Vancouver. 

Then I became a dad. 

I mean, a lot of other stuff happened too, but that’s not relevant to this story. 

Honestly, it could have ended there. One was enough. My life was full and complete.

Then I became a dad again. 

And that’s where it does end. For now. As much as I love kids, two of our own is enough. That’s how many we can fit in our car.  Kids are expensive here in Vancouver. And while they don’t exactly steal your free time, they do trade it in for unconditional love. It’s a good trade.

More to come. 

Resolutions

Hi.

It’s been almost a year since I blogged. My one and only post in 2019 was in January. This isn’t a post to excuse that or explain away why that was so, instead it is about 2020. The future. Now.

I’ve never been one for resolutions. I think they fail too often and make you feel bad about not succeeding at yet another thing in life. But then I saw a video that explained a lot to me. Veritasium’s, one of my favourite educational YouTube channels did a video about the science behind resolutions and tips on how to keep them, and it really resonated with me. Watch it below, then read on.

A few points stood out. Resolutions made for January 1st actually are statistically more likely to be met than ones made at any other time of the year. Don’t make big, sweeping changes, but instead small alterations that will grow to much more as you develop them into a new, ongoing habit. Honestly, the video covers everything, so if you’re reading this and you still haven’t watched, then go back and do that now. It’ll explain why my resolutions seem so inconsequential.

I’ve come up with four resolutions that I want to keep to. That seems like a lot in itself, but I honestly think they small enough to be manageable, but smart enough to grow into a life changing routine if I can just keep doing them. They are:

1. Drink one glass of water every day.

I drink a lot of fluids every day, but mostly in coffee, tea and the carbonated water drink Bubly. I’m not overly concerned about not getting fluids, but I do want to drink more water by itself. So one glass every day. I aim to try to get this done right at the start of each day, drinking it while the kettle boils for my morning coffee. Genius! Resolution 1.5 is to try to maintain a full water jug in the fridge, as it’s much easier choose that over a can of Bubly when I open the door and it’s there.

2. Draw a box every day.

I want to draw more, but instead of setting a goal to draw a full character or even a face, I’m just going to make sure I draw at least a box every day. And a 2D box, or “square”, counts, as long as it’s done with the intention of meeting this resolution. Obviously, I hope to commonly draw more, but I should be able to commit to and do something as simple as this, and once the routine is there, drawing more should come.

3. Write one sentence every day.

It doesn’t have to be poetry, it doesn’t have to be fancy, but I want to write more, and like the drawing one, this is how I’ll start. To accomplish both 2. and 3., I’ve pulled an unused notebook off my shelf and I’m going to keep it near me. I can draw and write in it at any time, but, along with the water, I hope to do it first thing in the morning. My mornings usually involve watching the night’s uploads on YouTube, so I’m confident I can take five minutes to draw and write one thing while I drink a glass of water. Also, blog posts count, so, no promises, but you might see more of me back here in 2020.

4. Read one book with the kids every week.

This is an odd one. I do read a lot with both my kids. I love when we read together, and I love how much they both enjoy books. This isn’t some huge change, as if before now I never read books with them, but I also know that too often, life can zip on by and it’s been a couple of weeks since I sat down and read something with them without any other distractions. I’m honestly hoping that this one evolves into “Read one new book with the kids every week”. But for now, I’m keeping it very simple.

So there we are. My resolutions. Purposefully very basic. I’ll update if I fail. I’ll update in a year if I succeed. But to kick things off, I’ve already drank a glass of water today, we read four books together on the couch this afternoon and I wrote this post this evening. As soon as I publish this, I’m off to christen that notebook with the first drawing, but also to note that I blogged, drank and read. I think I’ll use it to track my progress, though noting that will not count itself toward writing one sentence.

But while I have it open...

Flickr Off

There was a time in my internet life that I used Flickr on a daily basis. The professionally focused photo sharing site was a great way to post my favourite pictures of life, activities and lots and lots of action figures. I enjoyed being part of a social group that shared in each other’s achievements and were really supportive as ew each developed our photography skills.

But times changed, and suddenly we all had cameras in our phones and the idea of posting to Flickr lost it’s lustre. Where I used to go away for the weekend and come home with a few dozen photos to sort, now I had hundreds to scroll through, the vast majority of which were slight variations on the ones either side as I snapped off a bunch back to back.

I also became a dad, and kids take up a lot of time. 

It became so much easier to just post instantly to Twitter or Whatsapp to family members. Going then and posting to Flickr seemed like such an additional chore, and I quickly let it slip away. I’m fairly certain that I paid for a year or two or Pro membership in the last few years that I hardly ever used. 

So it has been that my once beloved Flickr account has sat idle, the last upload being from December 2015. It still contains hundreds of photos that I have no other easy to access backup of, and quite possibly, no backup, end of story. It has photos of family, friends, toys, personal projects, favourite foods, and filled with countless treasured memories. 

Flickr, once an independent site, was a bought by Yahoo a number of years ago, but recently was sold again. The new company have made some... changes. Lots of the changes are great. New upload features, new streamlined login, a renewed focus on professional photography. But the biggest change is to the storage service.

Up until now Flickr has had unlimited upload. I have well over the new 1,000 photos limit on my account. As of early January that simply meant I couldn’t upload anything new unless I deleted down to less than 1,000 myself, or paid for a Pro membership. Not really an issue given that, as I’ve mentioned earlier, I’ve stopped using Flickr, apart from occasionally returning to relive or reshape memories.

But, on February 5th, things change. As of that date, if you have more than 1,000 photos on you account and have not updated to Pro, everything older than your most recent 1,000 pictures will be deleted. Gone. Forever. No backsies.

And thus my time on Flickr has come to an end. Rather than simply lose everything, I archived and downloaded everything, including the titles and associated data. This was, thankfully, made painless through a feature on the site itself.

They’re now all safely on my hard drive, and right now, I’m uploading all those, literally thousands of photos, to my online Google Photos. I’ll be looking forward to going through all of them soon and sorting them into folders, and maybe sharing some wonderful memories on my Twitter. Some are hilariously low resolution compared to what I can take with even my old photo today. It really is a nostalgia trip.

I’ll be leaving Flickr as is for a while, but intend to delete the everything off that too eventually.

Finally, I want to close out but saying that, while the new Flickr isn’t for me, I’m excited to see what comes of it in the future. I hope this all leads to a rebirth of sorts and they find a way to make the site relevant again. I had a good time with the site once.

But, goodbye for now, Flickr. 

On Illness And Immortality

We’re all invincible until we get injured.
We’re all immune until we get sick.
We’re all immortal until we die.

We are terrible about talking about anything to do with illness or death. We hate being reminded of our own frailty and mortality and distinct lack of invincibility. But yet, we all have to deal with it at some point, and many of us already deal with it in silence. As soon as you open up to someone, you discover more often than not that they’re going through something relatable too, or know a close friend or family member that is, and appreciate the chance to talk about it.

I learned through the openness of a friend about his own cancer battle that talking about illness is really helpful for everyone. The same goes for any medical condition. As soon as I bring up miscarriages with friends, it seems that everyone has their own story to tell, just no-one wants to be the one to bring it up, but it’s a huge relief to talk about it, even years after. Bottling anything up inside is never is good. Better to have it out in common conversation where people are comfortable mentioning it or asking questions.

But it is hard. I tell people I’m totally fine talking about my Parkinson’s, which is mostly true, but it’s still not easy to drop into conversation.

“Could you pass the salt? I have Parkinson’s.”
“I like this seat in the movie theatre. Nice and central. Also, I have Parkinson’s.”
“Yes, I’ll take my meal to go, please. I have Parkinson’s.”
“Oh, I love Back to the Future. Speaking of Michael J. Fox, I have Parkinson’s.”
And my favourite:
“Shaky cam in movies is the worst! I get it on all my cell phone videos and it doesn’t cost me millions to produce. I have Parkinson’s.”

See? Not that natural.

But when it does come up naturally, or in one of those very few times that someone has politely inquired about my noticeable tremor, then I can talk about, make a few jokes and answer any follow up questions to the best of my ability. Everyone comes away more relaxed.

Knowledge is power. Feel free to ask me about my condition next time we meet. We’ll all be happier for it.

Float Like An Elephant, Sting Like A Letharic Butterfly

Last March a new boxing gym opened nearby. Boxing is apparently one of the great exercises for Parkinson’s, so I decided to join up right away.

I decided right away.

I actually joined about two months later.

I hadn’t really exercised properly since Ada was born. Before then I used to swim regularly. Since Ada arrived my exercise was running to stop her doing something stupid, or carrying her away from whatever stupid thing I couldn’t get to her in time to stop happening. Kids.

But I decided to try my fist at boxing, and fell completely in love with it. By the end of the first week I owned two pairs of my own wraps, and by the end of the first month I had my own gloves!

I joined Raincity Boxing around the start of May and after the first class I knew this was something special. The gym has an incredibly friendly and supportive athmosphere, lead by owner and head coach Sean Sung, who is just one of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. His classes are always fun and funny. This makes for a really inviting class, regardless of fitness level. All the other members are chatty and supportive, encouraging each other to throw just one more punch, or reach for one last push up. I heard another member describe it as a family, and couldn’t agree more.

My goal when I joined Raincity Boxing was just to get fit, but I quickly had to amend that to “get fitter”. My cardio improved almost over night. I started to notice that I was getting stronger, and Claire pointed out that I was developing a rather nice set of abs. All this, and I was having fun!

I’ve never been one for exercise. I was always slim and never really worried about my weight. When I swam, it was a chore, something I had to get up early to do on my way to work. I did it, but mostly because they already had my money, so I might as well use it. Even then, I only did the bare minimum, two dozen lengths and out. I never pushed myself to do better. I was onctent to just swim for 30 minutes and get out.

But this was different. My plan of just going once a week to start lasted less than the first week, and I was going at least twice a week right away. It wasn’t long until I managed to squeeze in a third class, and I was thrilled the first time I made it to four classes in one week! It had been a long time since I was this excited about something that didn’t involve pixels or tiny cardboard components. Even on the days I didn’t feel up to it, going anyway always felt great. As soon as I walked in that door, everyone was happy to see me and I was happy to see everyone.

I’m never going to be a boxer. My Parkinson’s means that my muscles don’t react as fast as I’d like them too, and with limited force. My coordination is poor, and I struggle to put together combos of four or five moves. I find it diffficult to perform the explosive, burst moves that boxing is known for. And I hate wearing contact lenses, so my experience in a ring with a sparing partner would be something along the lines of watching a fuzzy black blur hit me in the face over and over again.

But I don’t care. I’m having so much fun. I love every class. I love meeting new members and welcoming them in. I love getting just a little better every class, one more pull up, just a little faster than yesterday.

That’s all I need. Not a straight 100% improvement, just a whole bunch of 10% steps.

Rest The Wallet

Last year, 2017, I decided to stop buying board games for the majority of the year. Or, maybe, to try to stop. I love board games. It's hard for me to not add games I enjoy playing to my own collection, but, in an effort to see if I could, I set this personal goal.

Because I bought it through an online store, I can tell you that the last board game I bought before taking this decision was bought on March 7th, 2017. It was Inis, a game that would go on to have a huge impact on me, but that's a story for another post.

My personnal purchasing prohibition extended to Kickstarter and other crowdfunding sources as well. This was important because I had developed a problem of backing too many games this way, especially if they offered exclusives. Luckily, I had hit winners almost every time, getting really fun games htat I enjoyed getting to the table.

Setting out, I gave myself one exemption. I had tickets to the first ever convention by board game website Shut Up & Sit Down, SHUX, being held in October. I would be allowed by one game at the convention. I would also be receiving new games through Kickstarters that I had backed prior to March, so my shelves would still see fresh additions throughout the year.

Over the following nine or so months, I played the games I owned a lot more than I have in recent years. I often buy games that I'm really excited about, play them once or twice and than buy the next game I'm really excited about. Rinse and repeat. This year, I racked up a lot more plays on a lot less games, especially my new favourite, Inis. I also cracked open some old classics that I love buy hadn't played in years.

By the time I got to SHUX in October, I actually didn't feel like breaking my self imposed sabbatical, but I did end up buying the expansion to one of my favourite games, Sheriff of Nottingham. I know this gets onto the table regularly, so I didn't feel bad about it being my cheat.

But then Christmas rolled around, and an obvious in hindsight, unforeseen wrinkle. Boxing week sale. Several of the nearby board game stores have massive sales in the week after Christmas, ending on New Years Eve. One puts a blanket 25% off everything in store. It would be hard to resist not availing of that offer.

Or it would have been any other year.

Looking around the store, I just didn't feel like buying anything. Nothing exciting jumped out at me. Those hot games that appeared throughout the previous year had now cooled and lost their shine.

I walked away, my goal securely intact for the last week of 2017.

This was a fantastic, refreshing action for me to take. It opened my eyes to how easily I was spending money on board games. As of this post, I haven't backed a Kickstarter in 2018 yet, nor do I have any desire to. What few games that have shown up and peaked my interest I've chosen to let come into retail so I can see how things shake out over time.

There are a few games that I've added to my collection since January 1st, but all of them have already proven to be worth my time, either because I played them a bunch at Meetups, or because continuous reviews suggest they're my kind of game. Reviews of them will be coming.

This was an amazing experience, and one I'd recommend to anyone. It'll hopefully have a lasting effect. I'd like to say I'll be more reserved with my future purchasing, but only time will tell for that.

 

Summer Fun Into Autumn News

I knew I hadn't posted in a while, but looking now, I didn't think it had been as far back as April! In fact, I completely missed my annual 5th of November post, breaking a long, but pointless, streak!

I learned to scuba dive over the summer and absolutely love it! It's an incredible experience, and one I've always been interested in trying, but while my brother was here, we learned together. The training dives were a bit of a challenge, obviously, as you had to demonstrate so terrifying skills, like removing your facemask underwater and putting it back on again, but we got through it. Since then, we did two fun dives in September that were a lot of fun and we got so see some amazing things, like a jellyfish completely failing to sneak up on Stephen during the rest stop, or an octopus home that had its own flipping balcony! Posh or what?!?

Stephen left to return to Ireland at the start of October, and we were all sad to see him go. Ada didn't really understand he was going, and so wasn't upset, but still asks about him regularly. Just today as I was putting her down for a nap, she interupted the story I was reading to ask where he was.

But when he left, Ada got her own bedroom. I expected a transition period, but instead, on the very first night, she brought Bear in, went to bed and went right to sleep. Since then, in the last ten weeks or so, there have only been three nights that she's come into our room, and one was Halloween on account of the fireworks.

It's nice having our own bedroom back to just ourselves again, but it's not going to last. We're expecting another baby, codenamed Podling, in early December, and are pretty much prepared for his arrival. This time we do know the sex in advance, so Claire is delighted to have the complete set, one of each. I'm just excited to have another baby in the house, but I'm sure the first week of sleepless nights will beat that out of me.

I have much to post about, so expect a few in the coming days, if not hours.

 

Love Makes The Rules From Fools To Kings

It's 1999 and the first week into my second year in university. I'm hanging out with my tabletop society friends, catching up on what I missed while I was home over the summer. I'm also playing around with my new GameBoy camera. A friend brings over a new girl, a first year who was interested in joining the society, sits her down with us all, says "Be nice" and leaves. I fall instantly for her, but I'm super shy, so I just act like my usual, idiotic, 19 year old self. Somehow, I get talking about the GameBoy camera, and I show her a feature, hoping to make her smile. I snap a pic of her face and then mine and show her our two faces combined.

She is, to put it mildly, slightly horrified.

Two weeks later one of the other gamers, a year older than me, has made his move and they're the new couple in the group. I'm upset, but resigned. Besides, by now I know she is too good for me. Smart, funny and cute; way outside my league.

Over the next college year we hang out together and have lots of fun as friends. I never say or do anything because a) I'm too shy and b) I wouldn' t do that to a friend. Regardless, it's a good year and I get to know her better and like her more. We get up to some fun, but completely platonic stuff, like swapping jeans for a whole evening while hanging out together.

The following summer a bunch of us gamer friends all move into a house together, including her and her boyfriend. And then, just before their first anniversary, they break up.

So, I'm there to comfort her and tell her she's going to be alright and be that great friend who she realises she loves, like in the movies, right? That's how the story plays out, right? Nope. I am, on that exact weekend while all the drama is unfolding, at home, about three hours away, gettting updates via text and being assured that her other friends are looking after her. Meanwhile, I'm cursing all the gods for my luck.

By the time I get back, she has pretty much gotten over it and is doing okay. That week we hang out and I'm her great friend she can talk to. All the time I want to tell her I like her, a lot, but part of me is reminding me that she's just broken up with this other guy, and needs me to just be a friend right now, so I should wait a bit. Besides, she's still too good for me.

Sunday morning, she knocks on my bedroom door and asks to come in. She sits on my bed and we talk about the movie we had gone to see in the cinema the night before. We talk about other random stuff and then she goes and breaks my heart.

"There's this guy I like, have liked for a while, but I don't know if he likes me. What should I do?"

I hold back the immediate reaction to scream and cry, and instead tell her she should tell him. I tell her that I've waited before and I always regretted it, but I'm so shy I let it happen anyway. She tells me that she met this guy before she even started dating her recent ex, but she had just started university in a new city with new friends, so when ex made a move, she went with him, even though she kinda liked this other guy too.

I'm imagining all the ways I could disappear this new guy, and who it could be given the little information I have on him, but all the while I'm telling her to go for it, to not be like me and let him slip away.

And then she asks what I'd say if she said it was me. I tell her I can't answer that, and she asks why and I tell her because I've never had anyone tell me that before. What I don't tell her is that if I told her the truth, that I really like her, I could lose her as a friend too because she clearly likes someone else now, so, I think to myself, it's best to say nothing.

The conversation drifts on, but honestly, I'm not registering what it's about. At this point I'm still just wallowing in my own self pity at being this close to someone this amazing, but not having her feel the same about me. Eventually I have to get up to get dressed for work. But before she gets up from the bed, she stops, looks me in the eyes and says "It's you. I like you. I'm asking you if you like me too?"

At which point my brain completely. Shuts. Down. I babble something back, get dressed, go downstairs and head out to work without really stopping to talk to anyone.

Along the way I get a text from her saying "Was that a yes?"

We'll be together 17 years this October 21st, married 9 years this August 8th, and have an amazing two year old daughter.

And yeah, she's still too good for me.

Point Five Kay

This is it!! A new milestone! One I did not expect to ever reach at several points in the lifetime of this blog.

My 500th post!

I often start things, get excited about them and then forget about them just as quickly. I had hoped that this blog would break that mold, and while I've gone radio-silent a few times, my desire to post random stuff is still strong today.

I started this almost eleven years ago, on May 2nd, 2006! I can't believe it's been that long. Since then, I've gotten married, moved to Canada and become a father, and parts of all those years have been documented herein. Though a lot of a lot of 2014 and 2016 have been lost ot history, with only 11 and 9 posts respectively those years.

Let's not waste any more time and push on to 1,000!

Post Script: I actually had to cheat a little to get this post to fall on the 500th upload. Last night I posted the reviews of the Game Canopy and cajon bags, and the cajon post became my 500th. I'm going to alter the publication date on that post to move it after this one, rewriting history in real time!

 

Goodbye My Friend

I'm pretty terrible at saying goodbye.

Moving to Canada was difficult, because my friends are incredibly important to me, but I knew I could always come home, I could text, Skype or Twitter. And I have done all those things and more. But eventually you have to face the reality that everyone has to say goodbye at some point. The forever goodbye.

Last year I lost a friend to cancer. I didn't know him nearly as long as I do many of my other friends, but he was amazing and funny and taught me that it's not over until it's over. Saying goodbye to him when I moved to Canada was especially tough as I knew it might be the last time we spoke. As it turned out, happily, it wasn't. We got to see each other when I was home in 2013, and, most especially, when I was home with Ada in 2015. I got to introduce my daughter to him, and the photo of the three of us together is still a treasured memory to me.

But leaving that time really did feel final.

When I got the news of his passing, I was so upset. I couldn't be home to say that final goodbye, or to be with my friends when we laughed about the amazing person he was. I never got the closure that funerals are for, the chance to see someone off on their last, great adventure to whatever. It hurt for a long time, and I wanted to post about him and what a great friend he was, but every time I thought about him I got upset again, which was not how I wanted my lasting memories of him to be.

I'm not particulary religious, so I don't pretend to believe that he's watching over us, but sometimes...

Sometimes, weird shit happens.

One night, a while after my friend died, months ago now, I had a dream. I know, I know. Just bear with me.

I was at my friends funeral, and all our friends were there. We were laughing and crying, telling each other stupid stories about how terrible he was at rolling dice when it really mattered, and how amazing he was at writing things that could make anyone laugh. We were sharing all these great tales, and among it all, I was there. But I was making everyone to promise not to mention to anyone that I was there, because I wasn't supposed to be. I clearly recall explaining to Mike that the other me was still in Canada, and that me didn't know that I had been able to come. Mike, for his part, didn't even seem to question that this was odd, and happily agreed to stay quiet. I had no explaination for how I was there, it was as if I wasn't dreaming, but instead had somehow travelled across time to be there.

It doesn't hurt that this is exactly the kind of weird story that would have made my friend laugh.

When I did wake up, I found myself profoundly at peace. I awoke with a smile on my face, and my heart beating just a touch faster than normal. I find it heartwarming to think that I still vividly remember this dream, dispite most dreams fading from memory within minutes of waking up, and certainly not lasting more than a few days. Ever since then, I've been able to think about my friend without tearing up. I remember those stories, those happier times.

I'll miss my friend, but I know that he'd rather I missed the fun times than the bad ones. So I will.

Goodbye Chris.

 

Still Shakin'

Long time readers know that I was diagnosed with Early Onset Parkinson's Disease in late 2012. When I first bogged about it in October 2013, my intent was to post about it at least once a year, on October 1st, the anniversary of my diagnosis. Clearly, that has not happened.

In fact, if I'm being honest, my PD is one of the reasons I haven't beeen blogging more. Or, more accurately, I'm using it as one of the reasons. I've regularly told myself that my tremor makes typing with my left hand too awkward, and while it is partially true; the tremor does make it more awkward than before I had it; it is, on the whole, bullshit.

The persistant tremor does not stop me from typing, and never has. Sure, I sometimes double type letters, miss a letter here or there, or transpose two adjacent letters in a word, usually from the left side of the keyboard, but I was never the fastest typist anyway, so it really hasn't affected my overall productivity. Using my PD as an excuse to not write more often is just that, an excuse, and a lame one at that.

Since my diagnosis, my condition has continued to progress very slowly indeed. I'm still not on medication, nor do I or my neurologist feel that I need to start any time soon. My left arm still has the noticable tremor, but without lose of strength, and my right arm doesn't show any signs of developing one as of yet. My left leg gets jittery when I get excited, but my walking and running isn't affected at all.

My neurologist has increased the frequency of our visits from 12 to 9 months apart, because, in his own words, it's going to get worse eventually, so we should watch out for it. Despite this, my last two visits lasted less than ten minutes each, and he was very happy with my progress. Or lack of progress, I guess.

So, all is good in the world of Denis and his stupid brain. Yay me.

The Flow

Oh. Hi. It's been a while.

In the last few months I've had lots of ideas for fresh blog posts, from board game or movie reviews, to random thoughts, to cataloging cool stuff I've done, but I've never made the time to sit down and write anytihng. I have had plenty of time to do that if I wanted, I just didn't, so, my bad.

I've heard it said that writing is like any exersice, if you don't keep at it, you start to lose the skill. Maybe not as fast as you might lose fitness by spending a few weeks sitting on a couch, but certainly after a few months without writing, you start to lose "the flow", the ability to just sit and write and be happy with what flows onto the page or screen. I can feel it even now, writing this.

But I'm going to make a fresh effort. Like I said, I've certainly had lots to write about this last year, so let's see what happens.

I've also been lax on my drawing and uploading photos to Flickr, but we'll take this one step at a time. At least I still post to Twitter... Hopefully some of you who read this thing are still around. Welcome back.

It's Been One Year

It has been a long time since I posted anything, and for that I am deeply sorry. I've been very busy, but not to the point where I couldn't have put aside a few minutes now and then since November to post something! But lots has happened, so let's hit the main points.

In December, I left the job I've had and loved since arriving in Vancouver five years ago. I've been working in the daycare industry for all that time, with an incredible team, and an amazing bunch of kids. But in January, Claire got a kick-ass new job opportunity so we made the easy desicion that I'd stay home with Ada and she'd go back to work. The other option was for both of us to work, finding daycare for Ada, while I care for other people's kids.

I do miss work, but Ada and I go on fieldtrip sand visit some of the centres now and then, so that's been great fun and a nice way of staying in touch with great people.

But being a stay-at-home-dad is not easy. I thought being able to handle twelve infants would make handling one a breeze. I was wrong. At work, I have support if I'm tired, or having a hard time with a kid. Now, it's all on me. I have to prepare snacks and lunch, change all the diapers, and don't get toilet or lunch breaks. I have to fit what I can into her nap times, but that's over all too quickly some days.

And I wouldn't give it up for the world. I'm well aware that it's a rare luxury that I get to do this, and I have an unending amount of respect for parents who choose not to or, more often that not, simply can't due to a variety of reasons. I have an incredible wife, with an incredible brain and an amazing ability to continuously better herself, a talent I very much hope is genetic. It is only because of Claire that I get to do this, and I thank her every day for that.

I love spending all this time with my daughter. As well as fieldtrip said into Downtown, we regularly go to a local drop-in facility in the mornings to hang out with other parents and children. We've made loads of new friends through that and I know Ada loves going because as soon as the stroller stops outside the door, she starts shouting and laughing. Plus, it nicely wears her out so that she usually falls asleep on the way home and naps from noon until about one.

It's hard to believe that Ada turns one year old in less than 48 hours. This time last year, Claire and I wear enjoying our last weekend with just the two of us, waiting patiently for the hospital appointment on Monday, March 23rd, 2015, and the c-section surgery that would welcome our Spawnling into the world.

I have something special to share to mark that, but it'll be in another post, coming soon.

Post Script: The moment I opened the page to write this post, my media player threw up One Week, by BareNaked Ladies. It may have influenced the title.

Stumped

When I got home this afternoon, Claire and Ada were out with friends, so I immediately tried to write a post to stay up to date with this month-long project. I had fallen behind this week, unable to write over the weekend, due mainly to feeling numb and uninspired after the horrific events in Paris this past Friday.

I had managed to catch up, and wwe proud of myself for posting some interesting stuff, but today I just can't think of anything. I've started a few posts, but been unhappy with the level of writing in any of them. I wanted to try to write a short story, which I sometimes post here, but couldn't come up with a plot.

So blearg. This is still something. A brief, high level glimpse into my state of mind this evening. Uninspired. Not bored, or upset, in fact, far from it. The evening has been lovely. Cuddles with baby and wife, watching YouTube videos, getting frustrated at a video game. All good. Just creatively uninspired.

Tomorrow evening I'm hoping to be playing board games at a friends place, so we'll see if I fall behind then too. But at least today, I have this post. Uninspired, but content none-the-less.

Like Father, Like Daughter

Confession time: I sucked my thumb when I was a kid.

Nothing alarming about that. Lots of kids do.

I had a blankie that went everywhere with me, and held it in my hand when I was sucking my thumb, rubbing the corner on my upper lip.

A bit more odd, but still okay.

I stopped when I was around 12.

Yeah... That's unusual.

Ada hasn't gotten attached to any of her blankies yet, but recently, very recently, she's started falling asleep with her thumb in her mouth. It's very cute.

That's my daughter.

 

First

I first trained in basic first aid when I was, I dunno, 16, 17? Subsequently, I spent nine years as a lifeguard, continuing my training and increasing my knowledge of first aid, right up to holding an Occupational First Aid certificate for quite a while. I've held some form of first aid qualification continuosly for about twenty years now.

But in all that time, I never really made use of it. I mean, I patched up scratches and bruises, of course, and once, I had to help someone that scalded their arm with a steam burn, putting water directly onto hot coals. Nothing serious. I've never administered CPR, or had to use an AED in real life. I've never even had to help someone choking.

Until very, very recently.

We had already fed Ada her dinner, but I was eating mine a bit later than her. Usually, we all eat together, but it just didn't work out that evening. Ada eats while sitting in her own chair at the table, so that she gets used to sitting and eating a meaal toggether with us. However, she was finished her meal, so I just sat her on my lap while I was eating, giving her little bits of my meal to try.

Ada only recently started eating solid foods, and has tried a bunch of things, including rice, avocado, chicken, pork, egg, peas and carrots, among a lot of others. The one big dislike so far, in fact, the only dislike so far, is crabmeat from a California roll. Her whole body shudders and she spits it out every time.

I had given her a little chicken, and there was a soft chunk of, I think, pineapple. It was well cooked and very soft and squishy. I picked it up and popped it in her mouth. She chewed on it thoughtfully, and looked up at me. I watched her experience the flavours like only an infant can and went back to eating my own dinner.

Claire asked me something.

I turned away to answer her.

A wheeze. Ada was suddenly waving her arms. I looked down at her and she had a look of panic on her face. Her arms were flapping, and she was making a quiet coughing sound, tears were in her eyes and she was just staring at me.

I picked her up, turned her over, my right hand holding her chin, her body lying along my right arm, her bum higher than her head and gave one slap on the back. She immediately started crying loudly.

I flipped her back around and gave her a big hug. Claire took her and held her close, and within a minute she was calm and happy.

At no point did either of us panic. I don't think my heartrate even changed until after the fact. It certainly helped that I could hear Ada coughing, so I knew that it wasn't a total blockage. It helped that she as already in my arms, not strapped into her highchair. It helped that I knew axactly what was in her mouth moments before, how small and soft it was.

First Aid is an important skill that everyone should have. I honestly think it should be a subject in school, a skill taught to every child, even if just on a basic level.

Almost twenty years of having it and not needing it, but I'm really glad I had it that one moment I did need it.

Shake It Off, Shake It Off

Three years ago, on October 1st, 2012, I was provisionally diagnosed with Early Onset Parkinson's Disease. I wrote about this before, but now, three years on, I want to talk about how I think about my condition, and how it has, or, more accurately, hasn't affected me.

I've had PD for over three years now. Although I didn't see a neurologist until October, I had had tremors since March or April of that year. In those three years I've enjoyed my job, got back to swimming, drew lots of comics, played video games, read books and did lots of craft stuff, both with the kids in school and at home. Oh, and I became a dad. PD hasn't caused me any issues in anything I do. Sure, the tremor is annoying at times, but there's no loss of strength, so I don't have to worry about picking up an increasingly weighty baby! The only difficulty I can even struggle to think about is if I'm asked to write a note without something solid to lean on, say just using a binder held in my left hand. I can still manage it, but it won't be pretty!

Story Break: During the first year or two, I would occasionally blame anything and everything on PD. One time, while we were on holidays, I noticed my tremor was much stronger one morning. I quietly worried about it for an hour or two until Claire noticed that something was up and asked. When I explained, her reaction was "Or maybe it's the four cups of coffee you had over breakfast this morning." I do drink coffee, but not usually that much. We were out having a lovely breakfast and the server just kept refilling my cup. Mystery solved!

Since then, I've stopped blaming PD for everything. Now I blame those infernal cosmic rays from distant alien galaxies trying to alter our DNA for the coming invasion...

Some things will change, eventually. I might not be able to thread a bead for the kids some day. I might find I can't draw a neat circle one morning. Maybe I'll have to carry cups of tea one at a time, instead of one in each hand. All that's okay too. And they'll happen one at a time, not all at once, like the initial diagnosis. I'll deal with them then as they come.

My tremors get worse when I'm stressed, excited, tired, hungry, basically extremes of emotions or conditions, so I've really started to be more aware of my physical condition independant of PD at any time first and foremost. I try to eat well and regularly. I try not to have too much stress in my life, and get plenty of rest. You'd think that would be difficult with a six month old in my life, but Ada is a great night sleeper most of the time, so I usually get a good night's sleep.

The excitement bit is harder. I mean, for me, I get excited at movies, reading a good book, telling a joke, playing with the kids, all that. Heck, I get excited staring at paint dry. I just have to accept that I'm going to show my excitement more than others. That's not really a bad thing, in my opinion. Oh!! Taking photographs can be a bit of a pain, especially at exciting moments. Thank goodness for digital cameras. I just quietly delete all the blurry ones, as if they never happened. I had to let some of the hospital staff photograph the birth of our daughter, which worked out great in the end, as we got some incredibly unique photos to share with her on her 21st birthday/wedding day.

One great bit of advice I was given by my neurologist (I honestly love that I can say that. I have a neurologist! It's like I'm living in a TV show!) is not to let anyone decide for me when I need to start taking medication. Not doctors, not my neurologist, not family or friends. No one. I can choose that for myself, and to date, I have chosen to remain drug-free. I don't really need it yet anyway, the tremors are still pretty much limited to my left arm three years on.

The medication is getting better and better every year, but it's still not great. It has some long-term side effects, the funniest of which is tremors. Yup. The medication for PD causes tremors. Bananas! Anyway, the longer I can go without taking the medication, the longer I'll go before having to deal with the side-effects. Or, by the time I do start taking it, maybe I'll never have to deal with the side effects! One of the reasons for them is that the medication is a pill, so it's strongest when you take it and trails off over time, causing an inconsistency in the effects. This leads to peaks and valleys and the body has to try to compensate for that. They're currently working on a slow release delivery method, something planted under the skin that would release the medication evenly over days or weeks and just need topping-up at regular intervals. Cool!!

There is some advice that was given to me that I haven't taken myself yet, so read into that what you might. I haven't gone to any support groups or meet-ups for people with PD. I know that it's good to talk about these things with other folk and see how well they're coping. But instead, I blog. I believe that being open and honest about PD, or anything really, is great. It shows others that whatever they're dealing with, they're not alone, and sometimes that's how you feel when you get a diagnosis for something, not just PD. I was taught that by friends who survived cancer, and other friends who went through IVF treatments to become pregnant as they talked openly about what they were experiencing. I haven't had to deal with either of those, but their stories helped me with my diagnosis, as well as during the two years we were trying to become pregnant without success.

10% of the population will be diagnosed with PD at some point in their lives. 10%!! That's huge! One in ten people!! If that was a fatal condition, it would, literally, decimate the population! But it's not fatal. It's not even entirely life-changing. It's manageable, and getting more manageable every year.

I plan to live a long time yet, and thanks to medical science I'll be almost as active and productive as anyone else. I'll be a good friend, a good husband, and, hopefully, a good dad for a long time yet.

Post Script: This blog was inspired by a question from a friend. I'm so lucky to have great friends, and if this or anything else raises questions for you, feel free to ask me. I'll be delighted to answer them if I can.

 

Laugh Until You Cry

Postpartum depression is a very common condition that can effect either parent. It's mildest form is often referred to as "The Baby Blues", and usually sees parents just despairing over little things, or getting emotional over what would be an inconsequential event at any other time. Neither of these states is anything even remotely a matter to joke about, nor are they anything to be ashamed of.

But the pendulum swings both ways, and Claire and I have had our fair share of uncontrollable hilarity in the last three weeks as well. Here are my top three moments, in chronological order, where one or both of us have just lost it.

On Hold

The day we brought Ada home from the hospital was, obviously an important day for both of us. We got to be a family in the privacy of our own home for the first time. Because we were home early in the day, it was also our first chance to Skype family at home and show off our daughter.

I rang mum on Skype so I could video-chat with her and introduce her properly to her granddaughter. Ada was a bit sleepy, but awake long enough to sit in my arms and say hi. Mum couldn't manage to get her video on her end to work, but could see us fine.

About ten minutes into the call mum's house phone rang, and she answered it, explaining to whoever was on the line that she was talking to her son and grandchild. But instead of making an excuse and getting back to us, she continued to have a full half hour conversation, while keeping the Skype call open. That's not an exaggeration. Skype displays the length of the call. It was, literally, a half hour of listening to mum talking to her friend.

Claire had been working on her PC behind me all this time, but not really paying attention to the conversation. At some point, I wandered away into the kitchen, and Claire realised mum was still talking.

"Who's she talking too?"

"Someone on the phone."

And that's when we both broke. Claire started to laugh. I started to laugh. Claire laughed at me laughing. I laughed at her laughing. Then Claire's stitches from the c-section started to really pain her, and she tried to get me to stop laughing, which only made me laugh more, causing her to laugh more. The tears were streaming down our faces before Claire escaped to the bedroom to calm down.

We could barely look at each other for the next hour without falling to fits of giggles.

Not So Sleeping Beauties

Claire had just gotten Ada to sleep. She handed our unconscious little daughter, just a few days old, to me, and Ada didn't stir, resting on my chest, mouth wide open. Claire reached to grab a camera to capture the pose, but when I spotted what she had planned, I tried to mimic the pose myself.

This just lead to Claire and I both bursting out in laughter, Claire once again cursing my name for making her laugh enough to strain her abdomen, me trying my best to not wake up a sleeping Ada, and both of us struggling to see through tear filled eyes.

It took five minutes for both of us to be still long enough at the same time to get one simple photograph, but over an hour to cure our giggles sufficiently to allow us to talk to each other again.

Zapped On The Funny Bone

Ada had been sleeping for a few hours and was in need to feeding and a diaper change. Ada loves her diaper change time, and will lie out on the mat oohing and ahhing and smiling and making faces the whole time. Claire was changing the diaper, but I wandered in to say hi.

In the middle of wiping Ada's bottom, Ada did what comes natural and let out a little fart. Her bottom was still wet, so it came out with a splutter, sounding, in hindsight, like an electric spark, or, worse, an explosive poop! Claire's hand shot away like it had been hit with a cattle prod, and she jumped back.

I doubled over with laughter. I had to grip on to the changing table to stay standing. I was finding it hard to breath. Every time I took a steadying breath, I'd look up and see Ada smiling at me, and crack up again. Claire finished putting on Ada's diaper and getting more and more frustrated at my hysterics. Eventually, she called her parents who were in the living room and they came in, wondering what all the chaos was about. Claire told me to explain myself, which simply caused me to laugh even harder.

At that point, she picked up our daughter and left for the living room. I picked myself up, dried my eyes, and followed her out to start writing this post.

I've been giggling for over two hours now.

Bonus Giggles
Claire was exhausted one day, but Ada needed feeding, so she took her and started nursing while lying out on the couch. Both mom and daughter fell asleep, while Ada was still attached, and, while very asleep, still feeding weakly. Eventually, Ada detached, but stayed asleep against Claire's boob. It was incredibly adorable, cute and funny, but, obviously, no photos to remember the moment.

Meet Ada Maria Ryan

On March 23rd, 2015 at 14:35 Pacific Standard Time Claire and I were delighted to meet our baby daughter for the first time, Ada Maria Ryan. She was tiny and beautiful and perfect and purple. Oh so very purple.

But let's rewind a bit first.

In July of 2014, after trying to get pregnant for almost two years, Claire announced to me that she was pregnant. Thus began weeks of nervous anticipation and worry that it might all be taken away, as nature sometimes does. But it was to be, and we told some of our family and friends the good news with our 12 week ultrasound, and everyone once we had our 20 week ultrasound.

Christmas came and went and Claire still wasn't even really showing. She started to have a noticable bump in early February, and gave up work at the start of March.

We had decided to use a midwife right away, and our dream was to have a water birth at home in our own apartment. All was going well until early March when we confirmed that our little Spawnling was in the breech position, head up instead of down.

We had a few options, namely a risky vaginal breech birth, a far less risky elective c-section, or, an attempt at turning the Spawnling in utero, through a process called External Celphalic Version, or ECV. Frankly, the thought of a c-section terrified us both, and there are very few doctors trained to do a vaginal breach birth thanks to a now discredited report from eleven years ago that adviced against it.

The attempt to turn the Spawnling with ECV failed, after five attempts over two sessions on the same morning, leaving Claire sore and upset. After discussing our remaining options together and with our midwife and doctor, Claire chose to go ahead with a c-section, and all I could do was be there to give her my full support.

That was not an easy choice to make for Claire. She is phobic of needles, or more specifically, injections, a condition called trypanophobia. One of the neccessities of pregnancy in the first world is a regular requirement to have blood taken, and be generally poked and prodded throughout the nine months. She was much more capable of facing a bloodtest by early March than the first time back before Christmas, but the thought of having an IV and an epidural was terrifying.

With an elective c-section, you're given a time and a date to be at the hospital, as well as a consultation a few days before. There is no stress, no hours and hours of labour, no rushing about like a headless chicken, panicing about what is or might happen. It actually felt a bit weird, and the night before was like the worst Christmas Eve ever! If you think waiting for Santa is exciting, try waiting for the best, most unique gift imaginable!

We woke up before 7am Monday morning so that Claire could have breakfast, as her major abdominal surgery required her to fast from 7am onwords. We took the bus into downtown and headed to the hospital a little ahead of time, arriving at Surgical Daycare just before 1pm.

Claire was brought into surgery at 2pm, an hour ahead of schedule, and while the staff got her set up, I was told to wait outside in the hall. At 2:25 I was called in and found Claire surrounded by hospital staff with a sheet dividing her head and shoulders from the rest of her body. I sat beside her and talked to her, just trying to keep her calm and focused on me.

At about 2:30, our obstetrician, the wonderful and hilarious Doctor Anderson, told me to stand up. When I did, I looked over the dividing sheet to find myself looking at Doctor Anderson holding a tiny bottom and two legs up. Only a tiny bottom and two legs. The rest of Spawnling, from chest up, was still securely inside Claire. Doctor Anderson twisted the legs a bit and we had the following conversation:

Doctor Anderson: Do you want to call it, Denis?

Me: Er... I think it's a girl.

Entire room laughs.

I sat back down and tried to hug Claire.

"It's Ada, Claire. It's our daughter, Ada."

A few minutes more, with another bit of pulling and pushing, and a purple, gooey Ada was brought around the curtain for Claire to see for the first time. She was taken to a table to be cleaned, and as I hugged Claire we heard her cry for the first time. I was called over to see her, and despite less than a minute old, apart from her hands and feet, she was a healthy shade of pink already. As soon as I stood near, I said "Hello Ada", and she just stopped crying, turning her head toward me. While her umbilical cord was cut to allow her to be moved to the table, it was left long to allow me to cut it to size.

Once she was cleaned up, she was brought back for Claire to hold. After a few minutes of just being close, Claire and I did what we had talked about before her birth: We started talking to Ada in Irish, welcoming her into the world in our native tongue. Ada, for her part, just lay on Claire's neck and breathed.

Out of the OR and back to a Recovery Room for a few hours where mommy, daddy and Ada could bond. After that we were brought to the room we would spend the next three days in. We got to meet the most extraordinarily wonderful nurses, get help with Ada's low blood sugar and high bilirubin levels, and relax in peace, while Claire recovered from her surgery.

On Thursday, March 26th, we were dismissed from the hospital, and came home to be a family at our own pace. Since then, we have learned so much about our little Spawnling. She refuses to sleep on her back, laughs at jokes we can't hear, loves having her diaper changed and dislikes baths. We can't stop looking at her, and I can't stop photographing her, in case I miss anything. New parents, eh? Yeesh!!

We still talk to her in Irish when we can, she sleeps at night lying on each of our chests in turn, and while Claire tries to breastfeed as much as possible, she eats more than Claire can give, so we supplement with formula, allowing me to do night feeds, leaving Claire to get some sleep. Because of that, and regular naps during the day, we've both been getting a lot of sleep and feeling great.

We've taken walks up to Safeway, just two blocks away, and longer walks around downtown. We've visited the park on a sunny day and relaxed on a bench. We've met friends for lunch in a restaurant and been able to eat without too much trouble.

Ada has become a wonderful addition to our family. We are lucky to have her, and hope that we'll prove to be great parents over the coming years and decades.

Related:
It Was All A Dream
Ada on Flickr

It Was All A Dream

I am utterly convinced I wrote a New Year's post for this blog, reviewing the first post from 2014 and looking at how I did during the year. Unfortunately, I can't find that anywhere, which is a bit annoying, as it was a long enough post, and I don't feel like trying to rewrite it.

Was it a dream? Was it something I wrote, but forgot to save? Did someone in the Official Internet Content Supervisation and Authorisation Offices decide it wasn't written well enough?

Whatever happened, it's gone, making this sham of a post my first post of 2015. Whelp! Let's get on with it.

2014 was awesome for us! We went on a very cool holiday in Whistler mere days after discovering Claire was pregnant, so it made the whole thing much more special! We got our Permanent Residence status in July, and we've both been working, playing and creating throughout the year!

Claire took up sword fighting this year as her new passion. She's gotten herself some armour and a big freaking sword! She's gotten super fit, and can do crazy things like handstands at seven months pregnant! She recently did an archery class, and has a new focus for her love of medieval weaponry. I, meanwhile, still go swimming, and recently have been putting in 75 - 100 lengths a week, sometimes hitting 40 lengths, or a kilometer, in a single session. My personal record in a single session in 2014 was 52 lengths! I almost died.

2015 is going to be the start of a whole new era for us. Our Spawnling is due some time in March, so we're super excited for that! Everything has been great so far. Claire didn't have any morning sickness in the early stages, and was still sword fighting up to January. She only really started to show in late January, and now has a wonderful baby bump, one that shifts, moves and kicks outward all the time, waking her, or generally annoying her at work.

I'm still drawing and working on a cool personal project at the moment. I've been collecting a set of impressive markers for my art, and they've been a huge encouragement to draw more, not only because I spent the money on them, but also because they make my art so very cool! I'll be drawing more in 2015, and posting as much as I can. Claire has also been creating, having gotten a sowing machine just before Christmas. She made blankets and bibs for the Spawnling, and has plans for more.

The coming year, or the eleven months that are left in it (Sorry) are going to be awesome, exhausting, terrifying and awesome. I'll try to post more often!