Cast off

Good news - the cast is off, and no surgery will be needed! Kai's peter-pointer is well on its way to being healed, and apart from a little rotting finger skin (yummy) and a newly-developed tendency to become ambidextrous, his hand is almost back to normal. Or so I hear - I haven't actually seen him yet, because I'm back at work.

We don't have to talk about that.

Anyhow, we're back home after a very long and yet very enjoyable trip to and from Ontario. I know I've been neglecting our blog, but I promise I will post again soon. I might even tell you all about our vacation. I would have blogged more while we were on the road, but... well... I was too busy being on vacation.

Hee hee.

OK, more later. I promise. Maybe even tonight.

One down, two to go

We are just past one week into our grand adventure to Ontariariario. I would tell you all about the many adventures we've had, but three days of driving across the continent didn't amount to much blog fodder, and we've simply been catching up with family and friends here in Ontario. It has been wonderful to see people we haven't seen in almost a year and a half, not to mention the pleasure of meeting this brand new little addition who wasn't even here a few weeks ago.

Hard cast

Keith took Kai to the specialist this morning. Within 30 minutes Kai had a brand new green fiberglass cast on his arm. Bye bye fingers - see y'all in a few weeks!

A couple people have asked for the story: one minute Kai and his two friends are heading outside to play on the trampoline, the next minute (maybe 5?) we hear yelling and screaming that doesn't sound at all like our kid. Keith and the girls' dad rush outside, the screaming increases, and then I follow with the girls' mom. It seems that Kai had been trying to dismount the trampoline and had accidentally flipped over backwards and landed on his index finger. Pretty innocent. Completely an accident. It was swollen for the rest of the day. I called our HMO's nurse advice line and was advised that if he seems OK, to just bring him in the next day, possibly tape his fingers together, and give him some ibuprofen.

He's actually in amazingly good spirits... and the attention he's getting from having the cast is helping to make this into something that isn't so bad. I'm pretty relieved that he's got a hard cast now, because yesterday while I was on the phone I had to excuse myself to tell him to stop jumping on our bed. I guess falling off a trampoline wasn't enough! (He's such a boy.) At least now it isn't as easy to further injure his finger.

Broken

One Index Finger
Two fractures
Three hours at the doctor's office
Four years old with a broken bone

Tomorrow he goes to an orthopedic doctor to determine whether or not he needs to have a hard cast. (This one is just soft.)

He is pretty proud of his stickers, too.

Puttering around

A very wise man once recommended that puttering is good for the soul. I know today isn't actually our "Sabbath" (although it is for some people), Keith and I are both quite fond of twiddling away a day with this and that task around the home. Today has been a decent day for puttering, both inside and out:

Jake got a new "shedding rake", and has since been relieved of a good deal of his lovely grey undercoat. Why, you ask, would a dog shed just before the winter? You know... I really don't know. I think it has something to do with shedding the summer coat to make way for the winter coat, but quite honestly, his coats all look the same to me. He's a furry furry dog, and right now it is a battleground between his fur (hair?) living all over the carpet and the couch and our clothes, and it staying on him.

Keith grabbed a piece of cardboard and some insulation and donned these:

in order to do this:

and when he was done he looked like this:

We have never (gasp!) actually used our fireplace in all the many (okay two) winters that we have lived in this house, and so to combat the annoying draft that inevitably sucks away all our heat, replacing it with chilly sub-zero (Fahrenheit) air, we decided to (ahem) stuff our fireplace. Is that normal? Is that safe? As you may recall, the only thing ever to come out of our fireplace, once upon a time (ah... the memories), was a fluttering, squawking, possibly rabid, very likely upset, rather misplaced squirrel (shudder).

enough talk about that.

Moving on:

For the last um.... eon? no... not quite. Maybe 2 months or so, one of our neighbours has been remaking the wooden box that covers our sprinkler system gizmo.

Gizmo is the technical word, you see.

So the entire time that Mr. Rogers is out there working on the gizmo, clearing dirt away from the gizmo, digging around the gizmo, and just plain staring blankly at the gizmo, Kai wants to be there right beside him "helping". It's a rather noble inclination, I guess. It fits right along with the intense pleasure that Kai seems to glean from helping us vacuum the carpet, or empty the dishwasher, or set the table, or water the plants, or bring in the trash bins, or clean up his toys... (Ha! I threw that last one in there because it's so completely false that I thought it might get past you. But I guess I couldn't keep a straight face.) Anyhow, yeah - if we do it, he wants to help. And so he helps our neighbour with the gizmo thingy:

Although, naturally when I went outside a few minutes ago to take some photos of him "helping", he was completely preoccupied with these guys:

But nevertheless, he has been helping.

Oh oh! My favourite statement of the day:

"Dad, dad! I need my sunglasses so I can be Batman!"

What four year old doesn't want to turn into Batman while he's watching the WB in his alien pajamas by simply donning a pair of sunglasses?

Of course, after I took this picture, he wanted to take some photos himself - and check it out - can you see who's on TV?

Boo!

Hallowe'en adventures have come and gone at our place... some highlights:

Keep an eye on him - he's pretty fast...

Pumpkins, etc.

On Saturday afternoon Kai and I went to a pumpkin patch with my good friend Anne and her two little guys. The weather in the morning had been gloomy and cool, but by late afternoon the sun had managed to push its way through the clouds and we had a delightful time selecting pumpkins, identifying farm animals, going for a hayride, and romping through mazes. This was our third annual visit to the Cottonwood Farm, and fall certainly wouldn't be the same without it.

In Preparation

Another joke

Kai: Knock knock

Me: Who's there?

Kai: Boris Cuckoo

Me: Boris Cuckoo who?

Kai: Boris Cuckoo you!

...

Gotta love kid humour. Sometimes things are funny just because they're nonsensical. Of course, I laughed, because I enjoy the nonsensical, especially when a 4-year-old comes up with it.

A side note: Keith was right a week ago - I have bronchitis.

Evening walk