Journey

I haven't been writing. 

Well, that's not accurate, I have been writing. Just not on the blog. I've been busy writing on Facebook, and Internet forums, and writing a book of sorts about money management. That one started as a project for a family member to tell them everything I wish someone had told us 10 years ago, and it kinda morphed from there. I've been writing out assignments for my kids and copywork for them to copy. I've been filling out forms. I've been writing the stories my kids dictate to me, to capture their beautiful, vivid imaginations in this moment of time. I've been writing emails and lots and lots and lots of texts. 

At the end of the day, I've been writing a lot of nothing. Which in my mind, equates to not writing. 

Why is it important that I write? Besides the fact that I can rarely form a coherent sentence these days, there is something immensely satisfying about writing that I don't get from any other medium. Part of that, I suppose, is because I'm such a visual person; there's something about seeing the words on a page that I find gratifying. Something that is beyond even what I feel when I play a sonata well on the piano. 

It's important that I write because it captures my life. Moments are quickly forgotten, and having this blog has proven invaluable for me to reflect on our journey. Details about Abby's illness that I've forgotten 10 years on (even when, as they occur, you don't think you'll ever forget them). Episodes in my children's lives that fade from memory. Reflections of my state of mind and soul at any particular moment. 

In short, it's all about the journey. 

Nest Eggs and Crystal Balls

I am acutely aware of my age.

At 38, most of my friends and family are long "done" having babies. There are a few exceptions, but by and large that is the reality. At some point, say 15 or 20 years down the road, they will have an empty nest.


I don't know if we'll ever have an empty nest. As our children grow, I am seeing the disparity between what they can do and what Abby can do. When the big girls were both small, the difference didn't seem like a big deal - they both required tremendous amounts of intensive, in-the-trenches care. But things have changed. Rachael, at 7, is quickly maturing into a young lady. She is able to do so many things independently now it sometimes surprises me. Joseph, at four and a half, is also quickly growing up.

Bedtime is a good example. I can tell Rachael and Joseph to get ready for bed. They will, with no or minimal assistance from me, use the toilet, wash up, brush their teeth and put on pj's. I just need to read them a story.

Abby, at age 9, needs a similar amount of help as baby Christina. I must help her brush her teeth, wash up or have a shower, change into her pj's, brush her hair, etc. The only step she does independently is use the toilet.

Now, independence takes her a long, long time. But chances are, even as an adult, she will require a level of assistance. She will always need a caregiver to help her with basics like hygiene and dressing, administering  medications, preparing food, you name it.

 So where does that leave us? 

We will likely keep her at home as long as we can. Probably age 30, but maybe longer. Even if and once we are able to transition her to an assisted living situation, we will likely still participate in her care as much as we can. We're probably looking at having her at home until my husband and I are into our 60s or 70s. 

I worry about her future. We save, financially, taking advantage of programs like the RDSP making a little nest egg for her, and we have provisions in our wills for her perpetual care. I still lie in bed awake at night, worrying if it will be enough. Worrying if something happens to us too soon, what would happen to her. I have those same worries for our other kids, but they are particularly intense when it concerns Abby.

Sometimes I think I would cash in all the nest eggs in the world if only I could have a crystal ball. 

Trial by Fire

We were late. Again. 

I have a love/hate thing with 9 a.m. Mass. On one hand, it's early and we're home by 10:30 and have the rest of the day gloriously stretched out in front of us, to fill at our leisure (I don't remember the last time we had a leisurely Sunday, but you get the idea). It's to-the-point, and less prone to funny stuff you can encounter at more popular Masses. It's before baby's nap, so less cranky there. The kids are relatively well-behaved because they haven't quite woken up yet, haven't gotten engrossed in other projects, haven't had a chance to turn on Netflix yet... 

But dude, it's 9 a.m. Which means we need to get everyone up, dressed, and out the door by 8:45. Easy for those of you who shuffle your gang off to school that time every day, which I don't.

And it was soooo not happening today. 

As we pulled out of the driveway at 9:02, we did manage to make it just as they were intoning the Psalm. Which I have to say, is pretty good. 

Speed limits are only suggestions on Sunday mornings anyways, right? 

So why did I publically admit we were atrociously late for church while probably bending the speed limit this morning? Because we had to sit at the back. 

This is will make sense in a moment, I promise. 

According to the Novus Ordo calendar, today's Gospel was from the book of St. Mark. I'm sure you're very familiar with the passage:

For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.' [...] Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.

I don't touch on marriage very often in this blog. My husband and I are about to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary at the end of the month, something which seems to be rarer and rarer these days. I'm so thankful for every day that he's in my life, as I literally can't imagine it without him. My only regret was that we had such a late start together.

Even though we weren't that young when we got married, we did a lot of growing up in those first few years. Most people do, I assume. Having your first child, that accelerates the growing-up for most of us. There's nothing like being responsible for a tiny, helpless little person that simultaneously enthralls you and scares the living daylights out of you. 

Okay, so back to church. 

Theologian Scott Hahn famously said, 

 [...]in the marital covenant the two become one, and God has designed it so that when the two become one, they become so one that nine months later you might just have to give it a name. 

We were at the back of the church with our brood of covenantal manifestations, trying desperately to keep them relatively quiet. I think they were thrown a bit by our uncustomary degree of lateness (usually we're there by the Gloria at the latest) and the sitting at the back thing (we're usually at the front). The baby was determined to walk up and down the aisles. Abby kept repeating, "Hi! How are you!" to everyone around us, not always with her "indoor voice". Joseph was being Joseph, squirmy and incessantly whining telling us he couldn't see. Rachael was in the corner of the pew, having a mad-on about some infraction committed by her brother. 

I think with that description, we've established neither my husband or I were paying that much attention to Mass. 

But we both tuned in to the homily at the same moment. Father quoted a theologian (that I wish desperately I caught the name of!) that said that the best marriages have a little bit of trial in them. That a little bit of difficulty was a good thing to make them stronger. 

Wow. 

I remember my mom asked me once, a few years ago when several marriages of family members were in the process of imploding, what made our marriage different. At the time, I gave her a glib answer about how were were both too cheap to pay for two houses to live in. But in truth, it's because of the trial. It literally is a case of what didn't kill us made us stronger. 

If you grow up exponentially once you have a child, sometimes I think you grow up exponentially of an exponent when you have a special-needs child. And it literally either breaks you or cements you permanently. I was so mad at God during the long, dark days, and felt like I was abandoned ("My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!"), but every morning, my husband was there. When one of us couldn't handle it anymore, the other took over. When I cried myself to sleep at night, his arms were around me.

Abby is a life created out of our covenant with each other. Our responsibility not only to her, but to each other fundamentally changed our disposition. The trials we endured, especially at the beginning, set the tone for our lives together. This too shall pass. We shall not break. We will get through this, just as we always have. 

There is always a solution, imperfect as it might end up being. So help us, God.

Absence

Abby's epilepsy has been relatively stable for a number of years. The last time the apple cart was upset in a major way was about a year and a half ago, when the switched generics on us for one of the anti-seizure meds. 

In that particular case, the new generic was absorbed at almost double the rate of the old generic, making her trough level skyrocket to over 60. It should be below 30. She had numerous seizures as a result, as well as a resurgence of migraines and facial tics, both of which hadn't bothered her in well over a year at that point. 

Since then, we seem to have settled into a relatively livable pattern of one complex-partial seizure about every three months. And actually, she hadn't had a seizure at all, as far as we know (always tricky to know what's going on when communication is such an issue) in about six months. 

Today, the phone rang. 

 

I always loathe when my phone rings, and I see on my call display "School Division". Something is usually wrong, although there are always exceptions. 

Today wasn't the exception. 

The teacher explained to me that Abby had an absence seizure. We haven't had an absence seizure in a looooong time... probably since she was about 16 or 17 months old and started transitioning from the infantile spasms to the complex partials. I asked some questions, and from what I could remember is sure sounded like an absence seizure, albeit a long one at 45 seconds. 

Second-guessing myself, I check epilepsy.com  just to make sure I was remembering the ins-and-outs of seizure types correctly. Then I called the school back and asked a bunch more questions. 

Was she responsive? No

Did she chew, which she typically did for complex partials? No

Did she come out of it gradually or abruptly? Abruptly

Did she seem aware of what just happened? No

Walked like a duck, talked like a duck.... 

 
 I didn't know what it meant. Do seizure types change? 

The answer.... dah dah dah dah!... is YES!

I called Dr. E. I love that man. I'll be lost when he retires in the next couple of years. Anyway, he explained that it's very common that as these kids approach puberty that the changing hormones can dramatically alter both seizure patterns and types. It can be rough. His advice was just to wait, watch and keep track of things. 

 See, now here I've been worried about the puberty and Autism thing. You know, teaching her to wear a bra, menstruation, the mood swings, all that fun stuff. 

That, somehow, suddenly seems simply compared to the prospect of managing an ever-changing epilepsy through the teen years.

One!

I'm a few days late on this post, but I don't think anyone minds. 


Baby turned one! 

Oops. Forgot my pants!

I don't think I've formally introduced her. Baby Christina was born last September and just turned one! She's quite the little peanut, and has been walking for nearly 5 weeks already, months earlier than anyone else. (She's got to keep up to everyone, 'ya know!). 

It's been a lovely fall so far here. I turned the A/C on this past Saturday (it was nearly 30 degrees!) but it was... chilly... this morning. First frost. Alas, I refuse to turn on the heat in September, and we buckled down and put on sweaters. 

We live on a lovely cul-de-sac - it's idyllic really, and perfect for our family - and while the leaves are turning the flowers are still looking lovely.

The tree in the circle. In case you were wondering,
it's our meeting place for our fire escape plan. 

Aren't they still lovely so late in the year? And no rabbits jumped out
and scared me, unlike last time I tried to take a picture of them. 

We were scheduled to take a nature walk today to record more of the changing season in our journals, but plans got kiboshed by erratic napping schedules. However, a frog trapped in the window well provided ample fodder for the journals in the end. 

Getting down the business. Ignore the dumpster.
We're renovating.

The frog. 

Hard at work. 

Drawing. 

I'm pleased to report that the frog was subsequently caught (along with a companion - we never realized there was a second frog until Daddy came home and captured them for us) and released into the back yard in a more suitable habitat. After my husband brought the darn things in the house to show me. 

Why are there frogs in the kitchen?

*Sigh* 

Men. 

Abby has settled into school finally. It was a bit rough the first few weeks, as she has new EA's this year. Her OCD has been very bad, even with bumping up her medication that helps with that. And before you ask, yes the medication is helping because we tried taking her off of it after Christmas last year, thinking it wasn't helping. The result was not pretty.

Despite all she's been through, she still always smiles for the camera!

She loves to swim. The deep pressure of the water helps with her sensory needs. Right now, we have her in a one-on-one swim class for special needs kids at our local Y, plus she swims two afternoons a week at school. We also go to the Y for public swimming whenever our schedule allows us. Our Y membership has been a great asset, not only with Abby but all the kids. In the long, dark and cold days of a prairie winter, it's good to have someplace to go that doesn't involve snowsuits! 

Anger

Or was it frustration? 



Either way, I'm upset. My Abby, my beautiful, wonderful, happy child has turned into a demon-monster. She was doing well in school. She was doing well at home. We were so happy as a family, had a good rhythm going, and was actually at the point were we could live a semi-normal existence. You know, one where you get to leave the house and do stuff with your kids. And they sort of cooperate.



And suddenly... poof!... she was no more. 


Now she's aggressive, unhappy, uncooperative. She hits the other kids. She repeats words for 45 minutes or more at a time. She's unable to cope with loud noises, engages in self-stimulating behaviours, and whole nine yards. 

*sigh*


Talked to doctor. He says it might be neurological. We've been cutting back one of her meds, with the hopes of weaning her off one (she's been almost 2 years since a seizure).


Talk to neuro. No, no, no, they insist. It must be physical. Don't worry about it. Keep tapering her meds. 


So back off to Dr. E we go. I've got five pages (2 from teacher, 3 from me) outlining her changed behaviour. In a small font. Including her attacking another kid with scissors today. 


*sigh*


I hate this merry-go-round. 


Have I mentioned that Autism sucks??

First and a Half of Three

Okay, I guess yesterday's post really should have been "First of Four". Sorry. 

My "first and a half" thing? The GFCF diet stuff. 

It's hard. Some days, really hard. The elimination of soy and eggs make it especially rigorous to adhere to the diet. Many favourite foods are off limits, and she doesn't understand why. 

We questioned if maybe soy and eggs have been the problem the entire time, and maybe we didn't need to be on the GFCF diet. So we broke it. For a week. We had a wheat-bread, yogurt-eating lollapalooza. 

The first day was okay. She looked at me quite disbelievingly when I offered her yogurt. She proceeded to devour the entire container. 

The second day was not too bad. Maybe slightly more obsessive than usual, but nothing to write home about. She had trouble settling to sleep that night, and was up a bit earlier than normal. 

By the third day, the sleep problems were become more marked. 

By the end of the week, she was only sleeping 5-6 hours a night (and not all at once, she would start jumping on our bed at 3 a.m.), down from her 11-12 hours a night that she now normally sleeps, unmedicated. 

We have established the need for the GFCF diet. 

First of Three

No, not a post about the Borg. Although that might be cool if I did a post on the Borg sometime. 

I have lots of stuff to catch up on... once I actually post everything that's happened, you'll see why it took me so long to post it! 

Instead of creating one, long post, however, I will break it up into several smaller posts. More easily digested that way. Like chewing your food vs. gulping it down whole. 

The big news? We pulled Abby out of ABA. Finito. Kaput. Le fin. 

After a disastrous teleconference with St. Amant regarding nursery school [at which I felt like the acting in-charge-person was essentially daring me to quit the program], we quit the program. Right then and there. 

Effective when? Immediately.  

Would I like help creating an exit strategy? No thanks, I already have one. 

Would you like to have a debrief? Not really. 

Would you care to elaborate on your issues with the program so we can help other families? If you haven't ascertained what my "issues" are by now, I'm sorry I can't help you. 

So.... what now? 

We moved from having a "comprehensive" (and I use the term laughingly and sarcastically) therapy program to having a hodge-podge of services for Abby.

It's fun, actually. We get to go to playgroup. 

Heck, we get to leave the house, that in itself is a novelty and has helped my depression immensely. But I digress... 



I get to expose her a variety of novel situations and social settings. Most days she does great. Some days not so great. That's okay. 

We do home-schoolish things every day, working on different school-readiness skills. Rachael does them with us too, and is loving it. 

We get to sleep in when we need to, and take a "day off" when we're not feeling so well. 

We go to the park, and sing songs while on the swings, and play games and practice eye contact.  

We go to nursery school two afternoons a week, and she has a ECE helper with her. Yeah! 

We're seeing the occupational therapist every other week, the speech therapist every other week, and the Floortime worker once a week.  

Lots to do, lots to keep track of, and I'm the least stressed about "therapy" than I have been in a year.  

Awesome, eh? 

Welcome to our "new and improved life"! You know, where we actually have a life.  

Apparently, I'm "It"...

Q: When is telephone tag no fun?
A: When you're the only person playing it. 

Yes, they have not called me to tell me what the H*ll is going on. Well, that's not entirely true. One of several people I left messages with called me back at the end of the day (naturally), when I wasn't home (of course!), and said that I should call so-and-so tomorrow. 

A so-and-so who's already not calling me back. 

::lots of nonsensical cursing and swearing, à la Fred Flintstone::

That is all. I've pretty much had a Cr*ptacular day, and now I'm going to bed hoping tomorrow is just slightly less Cr*ptacular. 

Addendum: Okay, so I went looking on YouTube trying to find a video of Freddie-Boy doing his fake-swearing thing, and found this instead. Now that I've picked my dropped jaw off the floor, I wanted to share it with you all. ::smiles::   I watched it twice, and I'm not sure if I'm more shocked by the product placement, or the fact that the boys are hiding behind the house so they don't have to watch the girls work while they goof off. 

The ABA Saga

Ready for the ABA story? No? Too bad. You're going to hear it anyway. I have a serious need to rant. It's my blog and I'll rant if I want to. :P

Remember back in November when when we lost a tutor? And then Abby started having seizures again? And after that, we got two new tutors, only to have Abby come down with her mystery illness? 

When the dust finally settled, and we tried to get back into the routine, Abby was unimpressed. I haven't talked about it on the blog because I didn't think I could without publicly trashing the program. 

I am now going to publicly trash the program. But just a little. 

After such a long interval without regular ABA, we thrust her back into the program full-tilt expecting her to basically pick up where she left off. 

Wrong-O. 

Let me preface this by saying there are serious organizational deficiencies in the ABA program. Several. Many. I could go on for pages about the problems we've had, from staffing changes without prior notification (I sometimes get schedules in the mail with new, random people on it), to serious security/privacy breeches, and.... oh, I'll stop there before I get too riled up.  

Abby was unhappy with her "new" tutors. She screamed. She fought. Eventually, she just shut down. They would show up at the house, and her eyes would just glaze over and she'd leave for Paris or something. She would be unresponsive. Her frustration and unhappiness spilled over into downtime. 

It was disheartening, and I have been on the verge of withdrawing her from the program countless times. (I would go to bed ranting, "That's it! We're done! I'm calling them tomorrow and telling them where to stick it!", only to wake up in the morning and try it one more day.) I would literally cuddle with her at night and cry because I felt so bad about her unhappiness. 

After numerous lengthy discussions with our consultant (who is trying her hardest, bless her soul) and the family coordinator (who has since quit, hope it wasn't anything I said!), we changed strategies. I still feel that the tutors we had were not a good fit for our family, which is ironic because they rejected numerous candidates for positions in the FOUR MONTHS!!! it took them to find the staff. But I was willing to try changing strategies to "enhance the reinforcement value of the tutors to encourage participation". 

Whatever. 

I told them that I would make a decision about staying in the program during summer shut-down (the last two week in July leading up to the long-weekend in August), which has long since past. I am still on the fence. Things are going better, but they're not doing any actual work. They're still "enhancing the reinforcement value of the tutors" by playing with her six hours a day for the past month or so.

Whatever. 

But things were starting to work out. Abby was happier. I thought maybe it was a sign that I should keep Abby in the program. I randomly took out a book about Autism from the library, and it said that ABA was about learning to learn. I would live with that. I wanted Abby to learn to learn.  

So when a phone call came last week telling me that our morning tutor was quitting and Friday 20 August would be her last day, I was taken a little aback. "Geez God," I said to Him, "Don't send me any mixed signals or anything". But I realized that maybe this was an opportunity. 

One of my issues with our current tutors is Nursery School. I had elected to send Abby to Nursery School two mornings a week to help with her socialization (because I'm not entirely convinced spending 6+ hours a day with an adult tutor in my house is going to help her learn to interact with her peers), and a tutor goes with her. 

Normally in the jurisdiction where I live, I can apply to the Daycare office to get funding for the school to hire an extra ECE (Early Childhood Educator) to help Abby in the integrated classroom setting. However, the "service delivery model" for ABA is that an ABA tutor goes with the child and is their helper during school hours. 

In theory, it's a great idea. I mean, she gets a helper either way, right?

Right?

Wrong. 

There's a big, big, BIG difference between an ABA tutor who has education in the ABA way of thinking vs. an experienced, specially-trained ECE. Did I mention there's a BIG difference?  I found that the tutors were lacking the prerequisite skills to successfully help Abby navigate the classroom. The feedback I got from the school director deepened my concerns. The director and I hatched a plan at the end of the school year in June to get an ECE in place for Abby for the fall. 

Okay, I wrote that and realized that it sounded like we had this diabolical scheme or something. It's nothing like that. We just wanted to do everything in our power to get the appropriate staff in place for Abby for September. Just so we're clear on that point, okay? 

Anyway, with one tutor quitting, I saw the opportunity. Maybe God is listening after all. I proposed to the program that we shuffle the schedules around so that I had a part-time tutor in the morning only, and I could send Abby to school two afternoons a week, which coincided with when the ECE was available. I told the ABA program that I wasn't holding my breath that a replacement tutor would be hired in the near future seeing how the last one took four months, and I wanted to fill in the gaps the best I could with what was available to me (those were my exact words, BTW). 

I had already asked the Daycare office about funding, and was told that the ABA program had to basically give their blessings to my plan before they would consider my request for funding (to prevent double-dipping from the provincial pot, I understand and I'm okay with it). 

I spent several days last week trying to wring an answer from ABA. Finally on Friday afternoon the big mucky-muck calls and tells me that they will consider my proposal and get back to me on Tuesday after the Big Meeting (which is today as I write this) to let me know.  

Yesterday (Monday, the day before the Big Meeting) at the end of the day (because important business should only be conducted at the end of the day where no one else is left in the office), they call me to advise me that they are sending a tutor from one of the other homes in our area to my house tomorrow (which is today) for some training. 

Oh?

Her house is going to Kindergarten next month, so they're transitioning over to the School-Aged program. So they're sending her to my house. 

Oh? 

And an important detail regarding said tutor-from-the-other-house popped into my head. She's six months pregnant. Which means she'll be gone on her maternity leave for a year in, say, three months?

Damn.  

Funny the big mucky-muck didn't mention anything about this Friday afternoon when I talked to her. 

Hmm....  

Feeling like there was something more afoot, I told the poor girl in Scheduling that I would not authorize any additional staff in my home until someone called me and explained what was happening. In detail. Thank-you. 

She harrumphed and said she would see what she could do.  

Guess what? Something more was afoot. 

This morning, bright and early, I get a call from a middle-level mucky-muck (I guess that would just make her a mucky. Or would that be a muck?) apologizing for the lack of communication. I probably would have felt more gracious about it if it was the first time, not the fourth time, there's been a "lack of communication" regarding staff changes. 

But don't worry, I was polite. Barely.  

Apparently when they notified me about the morning tutor leaving, they failed to also notify me that the afternoon tutor has also tendered her resignation. Whose last day, incidently, is also this upcoming Friday. 

::head desk::

  
  
I agreed to the pregnant tutor coming on board as a stop-gap solution to the having absolutely no staff as of Monday problem.  

I wish I had an ending to this post. Right now, it's almost 3:15, and I have yet to hear the results of the Big Meeting from this morning. I need to make a decision this week. Go or stay? Stay or go? The idea of life after ABA is a little scary. We've been in the program for almost two years, roughly half of Abby's short life.

In part, my reluctance to leave the program is due to my own inadequacies. I have a track record of leaving things undone. Starting projects and never finishing. Ask my mother. 

In recent months, I have asked myself: "Why do I want to leave the ABA program? Am I going to let Abby cut and run every time things get tough? Am I giving up or moving on?".

In other words, I'm worried that if I give up too easily, I risk transferring my own pattern of unfinished business to my children. But maybe we've stuck around way too long because of my own fears about having yet another unfinished business. 

::long, mournful sigh::

And yet, with yet another staff change, while it will cause stress, it may turn things around for us. It might just be the change we're looking for.  

::another long, mournful sigh::

The Queen City

The best part of your vacation is the coming home part. - My Dad

Canola field near Broadview, Saskatchewan, with storm clouds in the distance

Our trip was, to put it mildly, an astounding success. I kid you not. 

We spent a luxurious five nights in our camper at a campground just outside the city limits of the beautiful city of Regina, Saskatchewan, AKA the Queen City (In case you were wondering, the word regina is latin for queen). Yes, we went to Saskatchewan for our holidays. 

Quit laughing. We like it there. We went to Moose Jaw for our Honeymoon. 

Really, you can stop laughing now. I happen to like Saskatchewan. 

Okay, those of you who don't live in Canada may be confused at this point. Saskatchewan is often the brunt of jokes. It can be very, very flat and treeless at times (although that's really a relatively small part of the province. It's unfortunately the part you see if you're driving through on the Trans-Canada on your way to someplace better). It's epitomized by the lyrics to the popular Canadian sitcom, Corner Gas (which just happens to be about Saskatchewan)... "You can tell me that your dog ran away, then you tell me that it takes three days...".

Saskatchewan... hard to spell, easy to draw...

The kids did very well. Abby exceeded our expectations. She ate and slept well. She used public restrooms (we had lots of issues with that until very recently). She tried new things, and was generally a very happy kid. She was very ready to come home by the time we left. LOL. 

Regina is a beautiful city. It's hard to believe that it is, in a sense, totally artificial, with all the trees and such. 

Confused? 

Where Regina was built is a semi-arid, treeless, flat... expanse. It's almost a desert. There was nothing there 150 years ago except a trickle of a creek that has since been dammed and built up into the beautiful Wascana Lake and adjoining park. Every tree is planted. Every hill is sculpted. Every blade of grass is meticulously watered to keep it from dying. 

It's natural beauty is entirely man-made. Cool, eh?   
 

Here are the highlights of our trip: 

Our chalet

Our camper. We bought it earlier this year from the parents of a good friend of mine. While not huge, we thought it was quite spacious and luxurious compared to tenting. Then we saw some of the RV's and 5th Wheels at the campground. I'm pretty sure some of them had more square footage (and a bigger bathroom) than the little house Michael was living in when we met all those years ago. 

The whole camper thing worked out well.  Not only is it a fraction of what a hotel costs (we basically camped five nights for the cost of one night in a nice hotel), you also get to bring your kitchen with you. Makes the GFCF thing infinitely easier. 

Legislative building

The Legislative grounds. My brain still thinks of it as the Palais legislatif from my days in French Immersion/Francophone University. Besides I think the French sounds for sophisticated. It was quite lovely. We didn't go inside but enjoyed the grounds instead. It's on the shores of Wascana Lake. 

That's a statue of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on her favourite horse. The statue was erected for the horse's birthday or something. I didn't get to read the plaque very well... it has the words favourite, horse, birthday and statue on it. I had to piece the rest together myself.  *shrugs* Nice statue though. 
  

The kids. Just because they're so gosh darn cute. :)

The lake is really very lovely. It was started in the 1800's, and was drained and islands were created using only hand labour in the 1930's as a  make-work project. The lake was drained again recently (2003 I think) for what they dubbed "the Big Dig", where they deepened the lake and created another island or two (they used machines this time). All in all, a piece of paradise in the middle of the city. 

Isn't that an awesome picture?

It was challenging taking pictures this trip. Abby loves having her picture taken. Rachael hated it, and I often had to ambush her. Weird. 

Anyway, we stopped and ate a snack in a picnic area. 

Eating

  

Abby stuffing an entire piece of... something... in her mouth. 

   

Come on Mom, I'm done, let's go.  

Let's gooooo.... we're boooooored....

  

Rachael patrolling the bathroom perimeter while Daddy and Abby used the potty. 

 

 

Totem pole. Obviously. 

There was this awesome totem pole there. Why there was a West-Coast totem pole in the middle of Saskatchewan I'm not sure. The plaque said something about a gift. Maybe it was for the Queen's horse's birthday? (As you see, I wasn't real big about reading the plaques this time out.)

Daddy and his girls

Same shot, except with Mommy. 

 

Relaxing on the wormy-thing, enjoying the ride

On the other side of the lake, they had this great playground that we actually visited several times. They had this giant wormy thing that bounced. It's hard to explain. The kids liked it. 

Michael riding the big wormy thing

They also had spinny things. Abby discovered she likes to spin, or rather, be spun. There was the big, slow one: 

Brave Daddy with the girls on the big spinner

 

 

 

But then there was a smaller, faster spinner. 

Abby going for a ride

Abby LOVED the blue spinner. We encountered several other playgrounds in Regina that had something similar, and she's want to spin on the them until she was literally green. We felt ill just watching her. We were never too sure if the look on her face was joy or terror, but every time we stopped the spinner and asked if she wanted more, she would enthusiastically sign, "more". 

 

Walking back to the van

We spent a lot of time exploring the city and finding playgrounds to entertain the kids. One had a big hill, which even though where we live is relatively hilly, there's few actual hills to play on. 

Rachael on her hill-climbing expedition

Crawling down the hill is fun!

Daddy after the rolling-down-the-hill demonstration

One place we stopped also had a big puddle, and a big map of Canada painted on the black-top!

Who needs rubber boots?

Rachael doing her Godzilla thing on Newfoundland and Laborador

We also visited Government House, the home of the lieutenant governor. It was very pretty, with beautiful landscaping and nice flowers. The interior is a museum (and offices, but that part's not open to the public) and they have an "educational playroom" in the basement. 

The kids were less than impressed. It was our last day there. Their favourite part of Government House was the elevator ride. 

Cue elevator music

But I did take a picture of the plaque, fulling intending to read it later... 

We also attended Mass at the Holy Rosary Cathedral. It was very tall. 

I didn't take any pictures of the interior because, well, frankly it wasn't very interesting. It was obviously renovated sometime in the 1970's or 1980's in the "Spirit of Vatican II", not that there's anything wrong with that. There just was this terrible discordance between the gorgeous neo-classical, gothic-esque exterior and the bland, biege and boring interior. *sigh* Perhaps I've been spoiled since our local parish (of approximately the same vintage and architecture) has had a serious restoration in recent years. 

Well, that's the big highlights that I have pictures for. Of course, we did tons more, and I will discuss them in another post. For now, supper is waiting and a cranky toddler needs her Mommy. 

Thanks for reading this super long post!