Well the trade deadline has come and as a Vancouver fan I can say I'm a bit perplexed but not disappointed because as a nucks fan disappointment comes with the territory that Mike Gillis made no trades for the Canucks during today's most important day of hockey, the trade deadline.

DH sat here staring at the ticket taper which seemed to have Calgary's name splashed across it, searching and waiting to see some sign of some move Vancouver had done or was going to do.

Nothing happened.

A few names popped up to my mind thinking toward the future. The Sedine twins haven't been signed yet and become unrestricted free agents this summer, though their agent J.P Perry is still working on banging something out for them.

Mattis Ohlund will also become a free agent. He has a no-trade contract but was even willing to waive that as the deadline approached as it seems he is unlikely to wear a Canucks walke jersey when this summer approaches.

Other names popped up as well including Taylor Pyatt, Shane O'Brien and even Bieske's name rolled around the loop a few times. One thing I knew they weren't going to do was give up a first round draft pick. But has acquiring Sundin which was done this past December enough to fill the voids we see on the ice?

Lou... Roberto Luongo seems to be getting back to form. But one player cannot carry a team. Just ask Gretzky. It's too much pressure, especially when the defencemen in front of the net have no problem sharing their puck with the other team. How nice of them! We struggle each game I watch. It's heartbreaking.

So why no trades?

Edmonton, Ottawa, Montreal, Toronto and Calgary all jumped into the loop as the trade deadline ran it's course. It's not even over yet and my feeling we missed the bus somewhere is digging deep in my heart.

I guess the playoffs will tell if Gillis made the right decision or not. I'm guessing not. But hey anything is possible. I keep yelling at the boys to shoot the puck at the net. When they do they score. So like I said anything is possible.

I miss the days of Pat Quinn and Brian Burke wheeling and dealing for us as every second counted during this significant day of switching players. It's hard to see nothing happen during the trade deadline when nothing is happening on the ice during the games and our boys keep struggling.

Our playoff hopes rest on Roberto Luongo, poor guy. He's just getting himself back to form after a huge layoff with an injury that leaves most goalies wincing (groin) and hard-pressed to find themselves back to the play they were before.

It just seems unfair. And as a fan it leaves me feeling somewhat as though the GM of our team just doesn't care about our future. It's a feeling I've had for many years as I've watched our playoff hopes disappear into the night quicker than a black cat searching for a shadow to hide behind.

No matter what happens as the day ends, I will forever be a Canuck fan, no matter how their coaches or GM's or even owners deal with the team. It's in my heart to do so. I've been watching hockey since I was a little girl with my dad, rooting the Canucks on and waiving my white towel. It's a feeling of pride even when they lose. They are my boys. I will support them. I just wish the staff hired to protect them and help build them up as a team felt the same way as I do. It's a shame they don't.

So spring break is coming up for the school aged kids. It's a time I look forward to, and one I really enjoy. I know some parents don't because they have to find daycare, sitters and other activities for their child or children to do while they are hard at work during the week. Us, we are lucky.

Both Corey and I get to stay home with the boys.

I love it when Jake is out of school. Most times during the week the time I get to spend with my oldest (very special) boy is limited because of how the schedule goes.

We get up, eat breakfast, make lunch, get ready and off he goes to school. The rest of the day is spent running errands, visiting doctors for Trace, occupational appointments or just having playtime at home with Trace.

Three o'clock rolls around and Jake is home. He does his homework and then he's out the door to play hockey with the boys outside or play in the backyard with Trace who waits impatiently all day for his brother to come home so they can have some one on one time. Dinner is made, we eat, spend time reading and before I know it, it's off to bed.

I love Holidays!

I love snuggling with Jake because we get to camp outs at night downstairs on the pull out. Trace, him and I stay up and watch Transformers or Star Wars, eating popcorn and laughing. We wake up late, eat pancakes and plan our day as a family without boundaries or schedules.

I think I look more forward to the holidays than the kids do. Just getting to spend that extra time with the kids (all of us together) as a family makes me feel incredible.

There is always fun things to do as well. Look online in your local community to see any events taking place over the holidays.

You will come across links you never even thought of. Like taking the kids to a fish hatchery nearby so they can learn a thing or two about our eco-system. Science World and the zoo, the aquarium, different parks and playgrounds, museums, corn mazes, farms to pick apples and more.

Family Fun Links For the Greater Vancouver Area

This is me on a regular day. Shit this is most of us manic moms. Busy cleaning, dealing with the kids, homework, house work, cooking supper, paying bills.

You name it I'm doing it.

But my mother will call sometimes at 3, or 4 or 5 in the evening and find me asleep.


"Why are you sleeping?" She will ask me to which I hold my tongue because swearing at her at that particular moment of waking up won't make my mood change.

I simply reply, "because I'm tired."

That is an understatement. Trace is almost three and lately seems as though him being difficult isn't normal. Or is it? I will tell you right now, I think I have a little OCD in me because I'm compulsive and tenacious when it comes to searching and doing research on the Internet about anything I want to know concerning Trace and his troubles.

I can't help it. I need answers.

Is this a normal way a toddler almost three acts?

Or is this a part of his disability? And if so then how can I cope and help him through it? Better still if it is normal now what do I do because I can't deal with it or the emotions I have inside.

These are the things that run through my brain daily. And talking to DH (Dear Hubby) is like talking to a door right now. He just refuses to listen to me when I tell him my attachment, or rather lack of attachment to our only child together doesn't feel right.

Don't get me wrong I love Trace. Of course I love him. I am his mother. But when I look at him... when I have to fight to get any hugs or kisses, fight to hold him, fight to get him to say he's sorry for bashing a large truck over his much older brothers head and see no regret in him.

When I have to keep giving him time-outs knowing they aren't working, or turn my back on him because I don't want to give the tantrum he's having any further power, despite the nagging urge to gouge my ear drums out with a ice pick just to make him stop screaming. I feel very--detached from baby boy.

And I hate it.

Dealing with Trace's disabilities isn't easy. They are mild and most people look at him and say "What's wrong with him? He looks normal."

See that is the problem.

Not that I want anything to be wrong with him. Shit I'd give my life to return his to one where hospital visits and tests, occupational therapists, speech therapists and so forth weren't a part of Trace's daily life. But I cannot.

No what bothers me is that I know there IS something wrong. Something wrong with the way he behaves, certain things he does and things he says. I can't explain it I just know. I am again-- his MOTHER and it's my job to know. And there is the main reason my anger is bursting at the seems from me whenever we get around someone that says:

"Oh don't worry he's a typical three year old and he'll grow out of it. There's nothing wrong with him. Look how far he's come and he's all caught up."

Those comments alone make me want to shout at the world: WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET YOU TAKE ANOTHER LONG HARD LOOK AND SEE THAT THIS BEHAVIOR ISN'T CHANGING?

Trace hits and hurts everyone he plays with when things don't go his own way.
No amount of time outs or talking seem to help him understand we talk with our mouth not our hands.
He bits if a child goes up the stairs before he does. Bites their ankles, arm, back. He's drawn blood on three of his five cousins.
He has melt downs whenever about little things. He wants a toy and I say no toys at the table. He throws things, cries for it again and again. I repeat no. I tell him the consequences. I remove him and say you can eat with us when you have finished your tantrum. I even ask him if he's unhappy or sad or mad.
He doesn't respond.
He will grab my ears and twist them even when I tell him (please don't that hurts mommy) he replies (I want to) and tries again and again.
He punches in the private area of other children
He constantly touches my chest (I punch your boobies mommy) I tell him no we don't touch each others privates, please don't. He does it again and again and again until a time out is given.
If he wants a car another child is playing with he takes it. He will hurt that child to get it.
He tells us to shut up, says no I won't, screams at me yes over and over

The list goes on.

Yet everyone says yep welcome to being three. Yet how much is Trace being three, behind on his speech, delayed at birth, troubles since the beginning socializing? Or could his CP (Cerebral Palsy) be linked to other known disorders and diseases. Like Aspergers, Bipolar Disorder and more.

I will tell you what I know...

They say a picture says a thousands words. The one above certainly conveys how I feel about my (almost) three year old lately.

I don't know what it is. I must have been spoiled rotten with Jacob while raising him. Jacob never said "no" to me or threw tantrums when he didn't get things his own way.

He rarely whined. Not like now, he's nine and whines about everything lol, especially when we say no.

"No video games, no friends over tonight" minor things with minor whining against the decision made.



Pickle-boy however, that is a different story.

The constant whining grates on my nerves. I try really hard not to show it and to console him as he is discovering his emotions and figuring out how to and where to place them. But I have to tell you it's really hard.

Today while at T's (my girlfriends) house, PB asked for a drink. T went and got him one and as I was handing it to him I told him. "Now say thank you."

Well with the outpour of emotional torture that followed you'd think I asked him to salute her and sing O'Canada and do a variety of other things outside his capability.

I simply wanted some manners.

He kicked. He screamed. He cried and cried (sobbing wretchedly). All the while I hugged and told him I understood but he would get no drink without saying (thank you) first.

Each time he refused and screamed at me, hit me, or tried biting me. I put him down (gently of course) on the floor and told him to sit. I told him mommy isn't going to listen until we can behave nicely without yelling or hitting.

I'd heard about tantrums. I'd seen them before on television and in grocery stores where I used to look upon those parents of that evil child and chide them secretly for raising such little bastards to act such a way in public, embarrassing the shit out the parent and forcing them to leave the shop.

Well now I publicly declare my heart felt apologies for all those secret thoughts I had. My sympathies go out to you as parents of a difficult child. I'm sorry for judging you and thinking your parental upbringing of you child was wrong and that the fault lay with you and not the personality flow and challenges your child may have had.

Am I the mother of a difficult child?

Trace has always been a bit difficult. Since the day he was born; the birth the most difficult, amazing and frightening twenty five minutes of my life. I went into labor early. I was told to stay home, despite the fact I had miscarried a child (a girl) before having Trace. I was 33 years old and was sick throughout with troubles during my entire pregnancy.

I ignored the doctor and went to the hospital. I'm glad I did. By the time I arrived I was 10cm dialated even though my water hadn't broken yet. From that moment on it was a nightmare. The doctor didn't come right away. The nurses weren't allowed to break my water and the pain... The pain was so bad I actually passed out, several times.

Finally the doctor arrived. She broke my water and out my boy popped. He was blue and grey. He wasn't breathing. He was intubated as I watched in horror waiting for the sign every mother waits for, her child's cry. After several minutes I finally heard him cry slightly, before they carted him away to the nursery.

From then on the problems began...

Trace didn't grow properly right from the beginning. He was labeled a child not thriving and our journey with Children Hospital began. A year and half later of testing and dealing with Child Development, fears and heartache over trying to figure out why he wasn't walking, or how come he couldn't communicate. Trace is now almost three and has come so far.

He was diagnosed with mild Cerebral Palsy (affecting his legs). Sometimes he drool excessively and his speech still requires help, but he has the most amazing occupational therapist (Hi K) who works with him and loves him. Without their help I don't know where my sweet little boy would be. And sure he's still behind (just a little) and socially needs some help. But overall he's doing great.

Except for a few things...

He is sensitive to materials and wigs out. I mean literally wigs out. If he gets a drop of water on his shirt it has to come off or he throws a fit. If the kids rearrange his toys that he is playing with he freaks out on them (biting, hitting, throwing something) to hurt them. He always has to go first up the stairs, otherwise he sits on the stairs and screams and smacks his own head into the wall or cries and cries. When he cannot go outside with his brother to play (who is 9 years old) hockey with the bigger kids. He breaks down and repeats over and over again he wants to be with his boys.

No amount of consoling, explaining, holding and loving, ignoring, time-outs, spanking, nothing seems to be working. He doesn't understand, and yet he is so very bright with so many things. His feelings are genuinely hurt when he is told he cannot do something and explained why. Or he shows no feelings when he hurts someone because they have a toy he was playing with and hurt them to get it. He matter of factually states the person had it and took it, it's his and he wants it and ahhhhhhh I feel like I'm going crazy.

What am I doing wrong? How can I help him?

So we had our family counseling today with (Dr. S) and it went pretty good. We talked about more ways to improve the communication at home, which has been great since we started this journey in dealing with parenting with a TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury).

Parenting for Corey hasn't always been easy. In fact the challenge of it has put some less than inviting pressures on our marriage. It's not easy to tell the man you love what he's remembering when he's giving the kids a hard time that it is wrong. Or rather not wrong but it happened a while ago.

Corey will get angry with Jake for silly things. Like leaning on the table at supper with his elbows. I have different views. We are at home, not in a restaurant. Manners are important yes but at home, kids should be allowed to be relaxed and eating should be such an event, not one where they are being picked on every few seconds.

We are also working on the relationship between Corey and Jake. Step-parenting isn't always easy, especially when Jake has issues with his own father whom he never sees. Dr. S has been a tremendous help.

Mondays are always manic for me though when we go. I feel so overwhelmed with my emotions. Not because Corey and I don't get along. In fact I don't know of many married couples who are home alone all day and all together for years and haven't killed one another yet, and whom don't fight often. Our marriage is good.

I feel overwhelmed because the problems we have we are facing, if that makes any sense. It always seems like there are struggles around each bend for our strange but unique family. Next week Jake meets with Dr. S for his session to which I am not going. I've decided it's best to stay home. That way Jake doesn't feel the need to hide his feelings because mommy is outside in the waiting room. He can be open and honest about his feelings, which is what I want for him to help him through his troubles while we work on ours.

We are very happy today. Okay Cas is okay but I'm great! We took Jake to the doctors and he said that yes indeed he did have Pectus Carinatum, thank God and not the other disorder. We are so relieved, though Jake still has to be careful.

Doctor J made Jake feel so much better about his chest sticking out more than usual. He told him that several men on his rugby team had PC and they were some of the best athletes ever.

He said it can be uncomfortable to sleep on it as he grows, and he wants to see Jake on his birthday every year to keep an eye on his spine so he doesn't develop scoliosis, a curvature in his spine. Otherwise Jake is perfect and he shouldn't feel bad about looking a bit different, be a kid and have fun and play all sports he wants.

Jake was so happy. My heart just swelled. Sports means the world to him. He was so worried he wouldn't be able to play anymore. So I am glad that won't be an issue.

Doctor J also said swimming is a great exercise for Jake to take up. It helps build up muscles (a six pack) and since Jake is skinny will help him develop his body so the PC protrusion isn't as noticeable. And he told us to make Jake feel as normal as possible.

I'm just glad it's over for right now. No surgery and life can go back to whatever normal we had before this big scare, which basically means we are back to crazy.

Saturday night I did not feel like cooking. I hate cooking to begin with, but I really didn't feel like making the boys anything to eat.

The thought of standing in front of the stove gave me hives and I already had a fever from the flu Trace and I had been battling all week.

So we decided to take the kids to Apple Betty's Buffet for supper, their favorite place to go.

It was busy as usual. Trace was in high form, hugging the waitresses when we walked in like he was a rock star or something. I hate to admit it but the kid is good for only being three years old at causing a room to stop dead and have all eyes land upon his blond curls and baby blues as he struts his stuff.

Anyhow, so we are eating when my little terror decides he's going to stand up on the booth seat and bug the people dining directly behind us, something all toddlers love doing. Cause and effect is real big with monkey (Trace). He absolutely loves the attention. And he had these people cracking up with his faces and questions he was asking, though I'm sure they couldn't understand a word he was saying because he talks too damn quick for anyone but myself and Cas to understand, and even we need a translator every now and then.

I turned to him and asked him to sit down, quietly but firmly of course so that good people behind us trying to enjoy their meal could eat in peace. Now bear in mind my monkey doesn't like to listen. In fact he does the complete but normal opposite as any almost three year would and completely ignores me until I'm red in the face screaming. And yes I do scream at my children, even for fun.

"Sit down!" I said again more firmly. That's when he paused and tilting his head sideways he cocked his jaw and looked at me, rolling his eyes.

"Mom, I'm talking to the humans," he said as though I were the dumbest parent on the planet and how dare I interrupt his exploration of our small and somewhat retarded race to which he was quite pleasantly gathering information to take back to space craft and share with his fellow alien brothers high in the sky.

Milk came out my nose. Yes I laughed. I laughed so hard. What else could I do? He's three. He has a way of making me feel five years old. It's a gift I know that is going to wind up biting me in the ass later, but right now I find it absolutely hilarious the shit he says. I can't help it. He cracks me.

Kid have their own language and way of saying things. Jake had Jakeneese, a version of made up words and meaning that used to cause Cas and I to crack up with laughter. Even now at nine he's coming up with new words, like PONED. Definition: when someone beats you at something and owns your ass. All the kids are saying it. Of course he doesn't say ass, Jake because I would make him brush his teeth with soap. I know you are saying (um-mm mom you cuss) yes I do but not in front of the kids, only you good folks here and occasionally at the odd idiot who can't drive on the right side of the road in front of us.

Trace has his own language, too. Trace Talk is what we call it and every day we look forward to the funny and (not so funny) things he says as he is learning and discovering. That's the fun of being a parent. To gather all the crap our kids do and say so we can torture them with it later when they bring home that girl they really like or introduce us to that teacher they want to impress.

I love my job!

Today is a Manic Monday.

It's the start of what usually ends up being a very long week with the kids, appointments, doctors, paying bills and trying to get some writing done.


Bad things have always happened to me on Monday, and it's the day I mostly lose my mind (okay not true) I lose my mind most days but some of you I know can relate to me. So this Monday was definitely Manic.

It all started Sunday night when JR came downstairs long after his bedtime at around 10:30 pm. He said he couldn't sleep. He said his chest was hurting him, and immediately my alarm bells rang out.

About six to eight months ago JR came home from school after doing cross country and said his chest hurt. We noticed he had a lump. Actually it wasn't a lump but rather his chest bone was sticking out. It felt strange and looked even stranger. Of course we took him to the doctor right away, who then sent us to the hospital for a cat scan. We were told that he had a normal disorder common in many kids where his breast bone was growing this way and the rest of his body needed to catch up. Nothing to worry about.

Yeah right--whenever a doctor tells me it's nothing to worry about I feel like taking them and flipping them upside down, pulling down their trousers and giving them a damn good spanking for lying (instead) of just saying they don't know WTF problem my son does have. I realize doctors are human but why do they have to lie?

Anyhow we (DH actually) trusted the doctor's advice and life went on as usual. This time though after JR complained, I wasn't about to take any more chances. The protrusion looked bigger and if his breathing had become impaired then I had reason to worry--didn't I?

So off to the new MSA or rather Abbotsford Hospital we went. We got in fairly quickly which should have been a sign because once we were inside, we ended up waiting five hours, ten dollars in parking later, two starving children only to have a doctor come in for two minutes and say "I looked at the x-rays of your son's chest and he's fine. I don't think his breathing trouble has anything to do with his condition in the chest..."

Condition? What condition? He has a name for it? I raised my eyebrow and asked immediately. What is wrong with him? That's when he wrote down on a piece of paper PECTUS EXCAVATUM which later after looking it up online is a latin word meaning (hollow chest).


I felt like screaming, pulling out my hair, taking a baseball bat and going back to the damn hospital to hit the bloody doctor in the ankle hard enough to break it and then look down at him and say it's not broken it's just inflamed!

Pectus Excavatum is when the chest curves inwards due to the sternum being pushed back toward the spine creating a hollow effect. JR's chest stuck out like a bird. There is no way he has this, I thought. That's when I discovered there is another pectus disorder with the opposite effect called PECTUS CARINATUM, also known as (pigeon chest) caused by a protrusion of the sternum and ribs.


So how did this happen?

Okay I'm not really sure how it happened or why. It could be genetic I'm told, which later was confirmed by my mother stating my uncle had it. What does it mean for JR? Well it means that on Thursday I'm going into the doctor (which is tomorrow) to demand everything be checked and looked at. I'm not fucking around here (pardon my cussing) but I'm damn angry that not only did this idiot at the hospital misdiagnose JR and spend less than five minutes doing it, but that he so nonchalantly stated it was nothing to be concerned about, that his breathing problems weren't the cause of this and that we should wait to do something until he was fully grown.

FROM WIKIPEDIA: "Pectus carinatum, with the chest wall held in an outward position, may prevent complete expiration of air from the lungs and thus may restrict air exchange considerably. These patients often experience severe shortness of breath, wheezing and occasionally mild to moderate asthma. With exercise, carinatum patients often develop a very rapid respiratory rate.

Some children with pectus carinatum also have scoliosis (curvature of the spine). Some have mitral valve prolapse, a condition in which the heart mitral valve functions abnormally. Connective tissue disorders involving structural abnormalities of the major blood vessels and heart valves are also seen. Although rarely seen, some children have other connective tissue disorders, including arthritis, visual impairment and healing impairment."

Okay and I'm not supposed to be worried? Yeah what the hell ever! What mother wouldn't worry? For Jake everything is about sports. He lives to play hockey, soccer and loves to run. And I realize I will drive myself insane thinking of all the what-ifs, though for me that is just inevitable, it's how I am built. I want some answers.

I want to know what precautions we should take. I want to know about the brace, which is apparently a treatment used on kids JR's age (nine years old) to help mold the breast post and help the sternum grow in place. Surgery is not something I want him to have but if he does it should I read be done now and not later. I want answers. And if my doctor won't give them to me you bet your ass I'll be taking JR to BC Children's Hospital where I will get the help I need.

For now though while we wait. JR is taking it easy. We are going out to buy him an inhaler to help aid his breathing while exercising which seems to be the only time it acts up, and he's wearing protective gear while playing hockey, though I still worry about him getting hit.

Thank God tomorrow is Tuesday!