7 posts from 2006

Sundays - Summertime

This is one of my favorites from the Sundays, it didn't actually start out as a favorite the first time I heard it, but as songs go, some grow on you and some take on a new light with a new memory attached to it. Mine would be being here in Canada, lonely, music hungry, and watching the Food Network.

My husband would always tune in to the Food Network. I guess he likes food that much... and also watching Nigella Lawson and Giada DeLaurentis. As I watch with him, I in turn, began to take a liking to watching Jamie Oliver shows. He's cute, I'd say sometimes, I figure my husband's not the only one with celebrity chef crushes.

Usually when I say this to Rayms, he feigns jealousy and often shoots back with 'Why won't you marry him then?'.  I answer back that I'm already married, and he goes into this spiel of hypothetical questions, starting with 'If you weren't married...'. He does this to me, almost always, when I mention Keanu Reeves or be amused by any guy on TV.  I think he's mildly curious about knowing which guys I get attracted to, and if I'd actually go out with them if I wasn't married. The answer of course is 'Yes', who wouldnt? . Hearing my response, he'd either bash the guy by insinuating that he's gay, or make fun of him by imitating him - which I actually love, because he's really good at it.  With Keanu, all he does is a 'Whoa' and it's the perfect Keanu impression. With Jamie, he does an English accent, pretends he's cooking, and smacks his fingers with his lips after throwing an imaginery ingredient into the frying pan. It's quite a sight to watch and never fails to crack me up with laughter.

Back to the song. I heard it again, the first time in oh so many years, watching one of Jamie's shows. I'm not sure which, but it was played at the end of the program, when his family and friends were all eating the dinner he cooked, on a boat, at sea.  My husband asked me to download a copy of it and I did. Now it's one of my favorites.

I guess, the song came to me at a time that I wasn't listening to any new tunes and I was stuck with what I knew was good, without any good radio station or a music savvy friend to recommend anything to me. Its draw was rediscovering an old song that I didn't really take time to notice before - until my favorite chef played it on his program. 

Daisies began to grow, the grass was greener, and everything seemed fresh. I found myself becoming lost in Harriet Wheeler's airy voice :

it's you I need in the summertime as I turn my white skin red

Perfect! With the wintry weather, all I need is this song to make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Kudos to Jamie Oliver for picking such great songs in his shows. Of course, what would you expect from someone who plays Close to Me by the Cure to his wife everyday?  Didn't he also play drums for a band as well? Now if I wasn't married...well, Rayms said I could have Jamie Oliver any day, granted he could get Jamie's hot wife Jools.

I taught Paolo to browse the internet a week before his 4th birthday. The reason for it was my own lack of motivation to do anything that day and move my lazy butt. He was asking to visit the Toopy and Binoo site - a cartoon series that I truly abhor (Ate, you know this) and I got the bright idea to let him learn how open the site up himself.  It  was simple, I sat on the bed next to the computer while I let Paolo do the work. If he learned it, good for me and I could spend my day lazing around on the bed - if not, well, it was worth the try. He was at the stage where he could understand some directions and I already taught him the basics of pointing and clicking. So I just sat there, comfy on the bed while Paolo stood in front of the computer screen with his hand on the mouse, waiting on my instructions.

'Okay Paolo, click on the orange ball at the bottom' I said, referring to the Firefox icon on my taskbar. It was a good exercise in communication, trying to see how much Paolo understood and see the limits of his abilities. Also, I was that lazy not to stand up, go nearer to the screen and point to the icon. He moved his mouse with two hands and pointed at the icons at the bottom, asking if it was 'this one' or 'this one'. When he pointed to the correct one, I said 'Yes' and Mozilla Firefox began to load. The homepage was set to Google, so I thought I'd just teach him to Google the site and click on the link - which was easier than typing the whole site name on the address bar.

'Type in T-O-O-P-Y'  I then, instructed, pausing after each letter to make sure he was typing it correctly. It was pretty easy, since he did love letters and typing. After typing the word, I asked him to press Enter. I think he remembered it from before, he used to love typing stuff on WordPad when he was two. He correctly pressed the right key. Good Job! Then came the search results. I, being lazy by the minute, just told him to click on Toopy and Binoo. It was the first one on the search results and I wondered if he knew what I meant by my vague instruction. Surprisingly, he clicked on the correct link and Voila!, up loaded the Toopy and Binoo site. I was quite proud of myself to see that Paolo had learned how go to his favorite site on his own with my tutelage. Having learned the ropes, in just one session, he was actually able to do it all by himself the second time around. My husband, who hadn't known I taught him, was a bit freaked out when Paolo started opening a browser, got on Google, searched, and found his favorite site on the net. He looked like a little man, seemingly knowing the ins and outs of websurfing. Freaky, yes, but it was an amazing sight to see.

I was quite satisfied with myself since I've been freed from helping load up that godforsaken Toopy and Binoo site that Paolo loved to bits. While he was doing his thing on the big computer, I busied myself on Rayms' laptop. I knew that he loved letters but lately, I've noticed he'd have this game of letting me spell all the words he could think of. He'd occasionally ask 'Mommy, spell blue' or 'Mommy spell ball', random things like that. He'd also ask me to spell his favorite cartoon characters like 'Poko' or 'Pocoyo'. One day, he was doing his spelling drill as I was typing away on the laptop. He asked me to spell Ruby and Max - one of his favorite shows. So I started spelling it out without looking up. He asked me again, which was a bit unusual, since he would usually ask to spell another word once I finished. When he asked me the third time, I looked up and saw he'd been typing it on Google. He wanted to find the Ruby and Max site. Wow.

So I gladly taught him to type it out, click on the correct link to find the Ruby and Max site. I also taught him how to go back to Google by using the Home icon and to use the Back icon to go back a page. It was quite amusing as he'd go back to Google and type in lots of stuff to find out other sites. He was actually web-surfing! He'd type in his own name, maybe thinking that he'd find himself out there, and would land on a personal website of someone named Paolo. I let him play with the computer for some time and would get amazed at the new things he'd discover when I would check up on him again. One time, he was playing games on the Sesame Street site when his Dad asked him if he could use the computer. Rayms had said it was Daddy's turn and Paolo gladly obliged by saying 'Okay'. Rayms, at that time, spent a lot of hours on eBay watching over some auctions. We didn't know that Paolo noticed that until he said,  'Daddy going eBay' before giving up his seat on the computer to his Dad. He then clicked on the Bookmarks on the browser menu and selected the eBay site on the list. As he went to leave, the eBay site loaded on the screen. That left me openmouthed for a few seconds. I asked Rayms if he'd taught him that, he said 'No'.

Paolo is still quite curious with the computer and would experiment on things. I'd occasionally see a printed out page from the Dora site or see that he'd taken a picture of himself using our webcam (three of which are posted up with this entry). I don't know what he'll do next, but hopefully it wouldn't involve breaking our computer. I actually set up his own friendster account when he was still a baby and his own email account just for fun - though, I wasn't planning to introduce him this early to the computer and the internet.  It was quite funny when I got this message from Paolo's friendster account from a certain Kendra to visit her site with a webcam - yes, you know, THAT kind of email. Yeah, it's just spam, but then again, with Paolo, maybe not.   Hmmm...now I'm thinking, maybe I better take a look at those parental internet control software, just in case.

I am a music junkie. I cannot let a day go by without listening to music of any kind. I wish I won't be able to let a day go by without playing a musical instrument of any kind, which would be more productive, but then we'll never know - my addiction could turn for the worse and I could be sprouting out symphonies until I go deaf and mad.

I get music obsessed. I could have a song playing in my mp3 player over and over again for a whole month and not get tired of it. I also cannot leave the house without lugging my mp3 player along, for fear that I may be stuck in traffic for my commute to work without any of my favorite tunes handy.  I would gladly risk missing my bus and getting late for work if I suddenly remembered leaving my mp3 player at home and had decided to return for it. It would be okay to forget my badge for work, but not my mp3 player.  Fortunately, now that I have a car, I won't be risking this chance, but then I find myself burning CDs minutes before I'm supposed to leave, just to make sure I'm properly satiated when I drive.

It's not unhealthy yet, so I'm still fine.  Paolo doesn't seem to agree though, because he  doesn't like music that much - especially mine. One of those peculiar behaviors that Paolo has, is that he hates it when I play the stereo at home. He'd run to me begging to have the music turned off and would look at me with pleading eyes, streaming with tears. I love Paolo, but then, I do love music too. I try to let him know that music won't hurt him, but it seems every second more of letting him listen is some sort of severe torture. So I stop, but I put my headphones on. He also does this at daycare as well, to a point that music isn't played there anymore because of his terrified reaction to it. One thing that is weird though, is he doesn't mind listening to music in the car - even if it's loud (which I notice because I have to raise my voice when I try to talk to my husband in the car).

So now that I'm able to drive him to daycare,  I'll take this time to begin his music education. He'll thank me later when he's older.

Currently, I'm severely obsessed with three songs from three of my now favorite groups.

I always want to start the engine with 'Be Still My Heart' by the Postal Service, playing in the background. I've always loved electronica and alternative rock, and Postal Service hits it right in the spot. This particular song is more eletronic than rock. It's like your favorite song from an alternative band getting electronica-nized. Ben Gibbard's vocals are perfect, and you can easily sing along while you're speeding through the highway. I'm at the 'I love the feeling of love' stage right now and this song is incredibly romantic if you'll listen closely to the lyrics.  It makes you feel that giddy feeling inside, specially with those cute bopping beats.

The other song that I'm addicted to is Stars' 'One More Night'. This is another group that I am head over heels for.  They're unique in a way that they create such innocent sounding, beautiful, hearfelt songs about not so innocent topics. Whenever they sing this live, Torque, the lead singer always says that it's a song about 'f***ing someone in order to kill them' - which is why this is such an awesome song. Whether killing is figurative or literal here, I don't really know - but you get an overwhelming feeling when you listen to the song. Plus, they've got a small little orchestra in the line up - with strings and horns and of course electic guitars, keyboards and drums. 

They say less is more, but I say, more is more - the more instruments the better. That's why I like Broken Social Scene and their song 'Almost Crimes'. This is one of the songs that I've actually listened to over and over again for one whole day. When the band plays this live, they play it with 6 guitars, 1 bass guitar, 2 drummers and 3 or sometimes 4 singers. They usually have guest female singers to sing with them - Leslie Feist, Amy Millan from Stars and Emily Haines from Metric alternating from one gig to another, and if you're lucky, they sometimes get all three to sing with them. I always love it when Leslie Feist sings - she's the one singing on the album as well - especially when she belts out my favorite line from the song 'We've got love and hate it's the only way' (yeah Leslie, I feel the same way). The song is just pure fun. It's one of those songs where you get the feeling that everyone's having a good time just playing music and singing.

So there, 3 songs I usually play when I drive Paolo to daycare or myself to work . The song messages aren't for kiddie consumption, though they're definitely rich in creativity and great musical styles. I don't know if he'll begin to appreciate them or not - he's still crazy about Blues Clues songs and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (played on the TV), but I definitely enjoy rocking it in my car . I do hope slowly but surely, he'll be able to listen to it, or any kind of music, on the stereo at home too.

******

Since I love to share good music, if you guys want to listen to the songs I mentioned, you can access my driving music playlist by clicking here . You can skip through the songs by clicking the title, but if you feel adventurous, you can always try listening to the whole song or all of the songs in the playlist :).

Paolo just turned 4. Yay!

I'm not sure if he knows his age, nor the concept of what a birthday is, but we took time off to spend it with him - and of course do some other important things as well: a doctor's appointment and opening a bank account just for Paolo's autism funding.

It was both hectic and busy. When it came down to the end of the day, when we've gotten food for his birthday celebration and snatched up a birthday cake from the grocery - he falls asleep. Good thing we didn't plan a party.

We're not big party planners, and come to think of it, nor are we big on planning in general. There's always a general idea, a consensus on what's supposed to happen - though nothing in detail. Usually we just sort of wing it.

I wasn't like this before. Often, I'd like to plan things - I'd like to know what to expect and be able to predict how things are supposed to happen. But then, Paolo happened.

Paolo, to say the least, was not expected. Not that he wasn't at all that welcome, I wouldn't even want to dare imagine a life without him. But Paolo came at the most inconvenient time for Rayms and I. The time that I found out I was pregnant, my father was just going through the first stages of chemotherapy for his lung cancer, Rayms had taken a leave from school to visit his sick grandmother in the Philippines who then had died, and I on the other hand, was still working on my thesis and attending school. Rayms and I were both were full time students, no current jobs, no money and had pending family problems.  The timing just wasn't right. 

We made do. Things were off to a rocky start, but of course nobody ever goes smooth sailing all the time, do they?

It was difficult. If there was an easy way to start off a family, we didn't take it. We took the path of ancient cavemen hunting and slaughtering wolly mammoths for food and waiting for lightning to gather fire and cook. Yes, we knew that there was fastfood and one minute burgers, but we were masochists and we were always up for a challenge. The hard way, was THE way, it was the cool way. Whoever said that the hard path was for fools, didn't understand the meaning of rad.  And so began our rock and roll lifestyle - we were thrown rocks and rolled in with the punches.

We took turns. Rayms quit school and got a nice paying job in record time, while I stayed in the Philippines to finish my degree, give birth and take care of Paolo. A year after, Paolo and I came to Canada, I got a job and Rayms quit his job to finish school. The first few years were a mixture of failed job interviews, adjusting to married life, a baby and a new country, sleepless nights and full blown fights. Now, with hardwork and patience, and help from family, we now both have jobs, our own house, and life seems to have normalized - sort of.

Yes, now I just wing it. Life with Paolo and Rayms taught me that things in life don't always go as planned. And our motto to live by?  Expect the unexpected and be ready for anything.

Paolo woke up the morning after his birthday and his birthday cake was waiting there for him. He was still dressed in yesterday's clothes. The grocery store ran out of birthday candles so we made do with aromatherapy tea lights ('eggnog scented', it was  holiday special). We sang 'Happy Birthday' and Paolo happily blew his candles.  When he finished, he promptly asked 'Where's the knife?' and 'Where's party hat?'. Apparently, he does have a concept of what a birthday is. Too bad I forgot the party hats! But then, all was forgotten as he got engrossed stuffing his mouth with all the chocolate cake he could fit into it. I looked at him and wondered if there would be a time that chocolate cakes wouldn't be able to make him as excited as this. I'm hoping, maybe not ever. Chocolate still makes my day. With all the stuff that's been going on, eventually, you learn to appreciate the simple joys in life.

Don't be alarmed. This picture of Paolo holding an oxygen mask is actually a good thing. A very good thing. Only a few days ago, he would've been terrified of this, if not irritated. Ever since he's been little, he's always been scared of loud noises, especially whirring, vibrating and hissing type noises - like blenders, vacuum cleaners, water pipes and his trusty nebulizer. See, he's got asthma, so being scared of the machine that allows you to breathe better, isn't actually a good thing.

The first time he got an asthma attack, we had to rush him to the emergency room and they had to give him his medication via the oxygen mask. Paolo, naturally, didn't like it at all. It was quite frustrating. He didn't understand how important it was, that we give him his medication. But he cried everytime we placed the mask near his head, pleading to stop, even saying 'Please'.  So we had to force him. One thing about Paolo, is that you can't force him to do things, he'll make it even harder for the both of you. But there was no choice then, either die from lack of oxygen or force the oxygen mask on his face.

The doctors and nurses were friendly, though not to Paolo's liking. The nurse assigned to us was this tall big man that looked a lot like Raymond's brother from Everybody Loves Raymond. I think he even had that big deep voice too, I don't remember much, all I can remember is him asking us to restrain Paolo as he placed the oxygen mask on his head. First I had him on my lap and I hugged him, holding him firmly in my arms. But he kept kicking and kicking that it hurt me to restrain him like that. I couldn't keep his arms from flailing and shoving the oxygen mask away. It gave me a flashback when I was in highschool, second year biology - dissecting frogs. We had live frogs then, back in the day, and the way we dissected them, we had to kill them first before opening them up. It was quite barbaric. Our biology teacher, asked me to assist her to demonstrate to the class how to lay the frog down on the dissecting pan. I was just following directions. She  laid the frog  down, belly up, and  placed a  cottonball full of formaline in its mouth. Then she asked me to pin its arms down with tiny steel dissecting pins. There was a moment there in my head that I thought "What? You want me to crucify this helpless frog on the dissecting pan, while it's still squirming for life?". I didn't say anything, but firmly placed the steel pins into its appendeges. It had to be done.

We ended up with Paolo lying down on the hospital bed, the big nurse with his huge hands holding Paolo's arms, my husband holding his legs, and I holding his head so that he could breathe his medicine. It took three people to restrain him, but it worked. I didn't know where Paolo found the strength to put up a fight, when earlier at home he was quite weak from being unable to breathe. He was freakishly strong too, barely even three years old and it took three adults to pin him down on the bed. I was hoping that all this struggle would leave him too tired to fight, and within minutes he fell fast asleep.

Even if the medication took only 15 minutes to administer, we still had to contend having him wear an oxygen mask to bed as he still needed a constant supply of oxygen. He didn't like the tube that they were placing in his notrils, so I ended up sitting next to his bed all night with my arm propped near his head so that he could breathe the oxygen from the mask that I was holding. It wasn't a problem when he was asleep, when it was time to take his medicine, I just had to place the mask near his nose and he barely even noticed it. It was when we had awoken in the morning that was the problem. The huge nurse wasn't there anymore to help me restrain him and Rayms had gone home to get some rest.

Then, an angel in the guise of Lisa Loeb came by. She wasn't actually Lisa Loeb, but she sure looked like her. She was the nurse on duty that morning. She put her charms on Paolo with her long brown highlighted hair, cat-eyed tortoiseshell glasses and sweet smile.  Paolo agreed to sit on her lap as she gave him his medication using the oxygen mask. Friendly coaxing and props (a small toy construction hat that she called the 'medicine hat'), did the trick. Why the big nurse hadn't done that earlier, I didn't know. It would've saved us a whole lot of trouble, but then again, maybe Paolo wouldn't be too agreeable - Nurse Lisa was too nice.

The doctor had prescribed that we continue medication at home and rent a nebulizer to administer it. I had to fight the urge to ask the nurse for her phone number and plead her to live with us while Paolo was still under doctors orders to take his medication at home. Maybe I could steal that magical medicine hat, would that work? If dress like Lisa Loeb and play 'Stay' for Paolo, would he stay and take his medicine? Terror and subjugation tactics didn't work the last time, that was for sure.

We managed to get Paolo to take his medications at home, it was a struggle. Sometimes and he would cry while taking it. It was still good, at the very least, I didn't need to pin him down on the bed again. He gradually got used to it, but it would be hard for me to make him stay or even get the oxygen mask totally cover his mouth and nose.

Only a few days ago, Paolo had an asthma attack again. I stayed up all night to take care of him, as he himself wasn't able to sleep, having difficulty breathing and all. His puffers weren't helping much, so I decided to use the nebulizer. As expected, Paolo had protested, whined and asked me to turn the machine off. His breathing was labored and I was getting a bit panicked. I didn't force the mask on him, but asked him to please take it since it would help him breathe. He was better at understanding now, and quietly complied, but didn't want the mask to cover his face. I just let the vapors waft towards nostrils letting him breathe some of it in. After a few minutes, he was suddenly breathing better. I think he got the connection - that the machine and the oxygen mask were his friends, he offered to have it held up to his face and took the mask from me. I was quite happy since this meant I didn't need to hold the mask up for him again the next time and wouldn't have to struggle to make him take his medication. As an extra prize, he told me he loved me. "I love you, Mommy!"he said, with a kiss and a hug. He told me this three times too. I guess that's how happy and relieved he was at being able to breathe again.

Now I can breathe too.

My name is Cris. I am 27 years old. I live in Canada, am married and have a 3 year old son named Paolo. I love to read books and listen to music. My favorite author is Nick Hornby. I like the way he writes because his stories are witty, funny and they make me laugh. Though I am not a single, white, self-absorbed male - I feel as though I connect with his characters. My sister always says I think like a man, I guess that's it, or maybe Mr. Hornby and I have a lot of things in common.  No, I am not a die-hard Arsenal fan, I'm barely even familiar with football. I like music too, but I'm not as much of a Teenage Fanclub fan as he is. One thing's for sure, something that we both have in common - he and I both have sons that are autistic.

That doesn't explain much though, about how I can relate to the characters that he's written. But it does give a good segue to the next topic. In any case, to a certain degree, I am self absorbed. To create a blog that talks about me and my own life, requires a bit of being self-involved too.

So there you go. The thing with Paolo, is...what can I say...overwhelmingly mindblowing - since we've only gotten the diagnosis a couple of weeks ago. Not that it was a total shock, no, we were prepared for it. As prepared as we can get. But then again, when it's official - it kind of cements the fact, chucking away all the other possibilities that it might just be a phase or that maybe he's just pretending, and it's all a big joke. We were just waiting for him to say, 'Hey, Mom, Dad, I can talk. Ha-ha. Fooled ya!'. But then again, no, it wasn't the case. Oh well.

I asked the doctor if it was the mild kind of autism, since he was interactive with only a few quirks here and there. The kind of autistic kids that I usually saw were the ones that didn't really respond to anyone, play with anyone and had their own world. Of course, I don't have any other kids of my own to compare him to. Since I don't naturally like kids myself, I didn't hang out with much of them before, I didn't know how different he was from other kids his age. She said 'No'. He's high functioning, that's the term, but he's definitely within the spectrum of the Autistic Disorder.

And so begins our journey. To therapists and new schools, behaviour consultants, doctors, social workers and such. I was worried that my husband would take it bad. Surprisingly, he was totally cool about it after it finally sank in.  There are a few perks, he discovered. Autism, being a disability, Paolo's a tax break. We get disability credit and the government gives us money for his treatments. He'll always be first in line since he's a special child, and he gets his own one-on-one helper at pre-school, and for free! Of course, there is the possiblity of him being a savant too. We're both highly intelligent (ahem!), and he's definitely got our genes in him. He did show a peculiar ability to remember how words are spelled at an early age - knowing how to type more than 15 meaningful words at age 2 ( the longest one is treehouse, which is of course, the name of his favorite kiddie channel).  Yes, we are going to introduce him to playing cards soon, and then at age 21, Vegas here we go!

There was also a worry that had been lifted that we were bad parents. He was a late talker, that was how it all started. At age 2 he wasn't really communicating at all that well. Who was to blame? Nobody else, of course, but the parents!Particularly me. Why didn't I read to him when we was still in my womb? Did I talk to him a lot? Maybe that's why he wasn't learning any language. Kids his age were quite conversant. But Paolo stuck to his 'uhs' and grunts and the frequent temper tantrums to get what he wanted. I felt kind of guilty, that what I did wasn't enough.  Now there he was - a child unable to speak his mind and tell stories about his daily adventures like any little old child could. Maybe it was because he wasn't exposed to classical music when he was young. Was it my fault that he liked to be rocked to 'I Wanna Be Sedated' when he was a small baby? He was peculiar, and I stuck by him. I loved him the way he was - weird quirks and all. He was and still is soo cute!

  Paolo was different growing up. He didn't respond to people when they called him by name. They thought he was deaf. I thought he was just stubborn. My husband thought he was just too deeply concentrated in his play. It took him a while to learn how to kiss and hug and call me 'mommy'. I felt hurt when he wouldn't automatically come to me when he was scared, but would prefer to hide under the bed. He also tested my patience by not recognizing if I was angry or not, even laughing at my face when I was screaming at him.

We took him to a speech therapist, hoping all his odd behaviour was just a matter of not being able to speak. He improved a lot. However, a recommendation by the doctor and the speech therapist to screen him for autism, confirmed that it wasn't just his lack of language that was causing this behaviour, but a genetic condition that has his brain differently wired.

Usual normal behaviour isn't something that comes naturally for kids with autism. They need to learn it. That was the reason why he didn't reply if you ask him what his name was or how old he was. He just doesn't understand that abstract concept. Sometimes, if you get angry, he laughs. He doesn't know how to read it. He's not capable of putting himself in your shoes or even reading how other people feel. To most, this comes naturally, but to Paolo, it's an all different concept.

He's improved since speech therapy and constant reminders on what to do and how to respond to certain situations, but still there's a lot of work to be done.

It's exhausting for parents, for me and Rayms. We still both work and still have to worry about how we're going to plan this all out. We try to discover de-stressers. I try to enjoy myself with good books and music ( I stay away from heavy themed books and depressive music) , he tries to indulge himself with his passion for reading comic books and collecting Overpower cards (anyone out there with a Mr. Fantastic IQ Hero card can contact me, that's the only thing my husband wants for Christmas). There are movie nights too - renting a DVD or two, for movies we missed watching in the theatre.

Paolo has this peculiar habit of not wanting us to watch any other show except the Treehouse channel. He's a little tyrant. Either you watch his show or turn the TV off. It's hard when he complains, with his whining and extremely painful kicking (he's unusually strong for a 3 year old - as we have been told), you're forced to succumb. We did have a breakthrough though. We wanted to watch 'Shaun of the Dead'. We waited till he fell asleep and popped it in the DVD player thinking that the coast was clear. Suddenly, I heard him, he had awoken and was demanding to watch the Treehouse channel instead. We stood our ground. No, we will not be bullied by a 3-year old child! We are just two people who would like to have a nice quiet evening, watching a zombie movie. We felt defiant and unafraid. We are his parents after all ,and it was time for us to stick it to his cute, whiny little face that we will watch our own show and that will be that.

He cried 40 minutes into the movie. I hardly understood half of what the characters were saying. Nonetheless, we did not flinch. We were still winning. Even if we weren't enjoying the film and it was hardly a nice quiet stree free evening - we were still winning. And then it happened. He stopped. Maybe he grew tired. Maybe he understood that his demands were going to be fruitless. Yes, now he knew, he knew we were the bosses of the house, the high ranking managers, the king and queen of the castle. We had him wrapped around our fingers now! But then, something odd happened. He laughed. He laughed like there was someone tickling his belly. It was a hearty laugh, a laugh that he reserved for things that were extremely pleasing or funny to him. It was at the point of the movie where Shaun and his friend were brandishing a cricket bat and a shovel, and started whacking the zombies on their heads.

Whack! Giggle. Whack! Whack! Whack! More giggles. With every whack in the head, Paolo's giggles started to increase with fervor. It was a funny movie, Rayms and I knew that. We didn't laugh but just exchanged worried looks.  I knew what was going on in my husband's head, he was mentally saying 'What the f**k?!'. I knew what he was thinking because it was the same thing that was going on in my mind too. Paolo just continued to laugh his little head off. Weird, really odd, disconcerting even, but at the same time still very, very cute.

Here's a mental note, talk to the behavioural consultant about aberrant reactions - particulary towards violent behaviour. We really do have a long way to go.