The Trampoline Museum

James and I had the day together today.

Last Monday we had a trip to CHEO because he woke up having significant respiratory distress.  He had very shallow, rapid breathing when I went in to check on him in the morning before he woke up.  We thought he'd been sick with a cold on Saturday and Sunday (but that is now somewhat in question again) but this wasn't normal by any means.

Anyway, as with our other trips to CHEO, it was handled exceptionally well (I guess that means it's no longer an exception...) and even though we were there for almost five hours, most of that time was waiting to ensure he was responding well to the medication and not relapsing.  His breathing has been fine ever since, so right now the working theory is he has cough-variant asthma and either a cold or an allergic response to something in the air on Saturday escalated from "asthma" to "asthma".  We'll see.

So the first part of the day was our follow-up with our family doctor.  James was, of course, in good spirits, having a very animated discussion with me first in the lobby about all of the letters he saw in their info-board, then on all of the various things sharks might eat (driven by a series of photos of seals on the wall) then on what was growing in the fields at the experimental farm and where the cars were going when we were looking out the window of the exam room.

The second part of the day was a trip back to CHEO, this time to meet with Nancy, his occupational therapist.  That was kind of sad for me because this is the last appointment we'll have with her unless we specifically call to set something up.  Now that he's entering school he's been referred to CCAS and they'll handle any of his needs.  Nancy has been great, James is always excited to see her and I'm going to miss the visits with her.  But that's growing up.

But now the important part of the day.

We brought his lunch bag with a big lunch packed in it for him to eat with Nancy, that way she would be able to make suggestions or help plan things for when he starts school (next month!).  That meant that by the time lunch rolled around, he wasn't hungry, so I grabbed a coffee at Tim Hortons and we got down to the thing I'd been planning for today ... I was going to say since I was talking with Valrica about it last week, but to be honest, the idea has been rolling around in the back of my head since probably February when one of the guys in my Thursday night curling league mentioned it to me over beers after a game.

There are no photos where he stood still long enough for my camera to focus.

We went to Sky Zone.  I bought him an hour of time and that turned out to be precisely the right amount of time.  He started off very slow, very tentative, but before long he was jumping and running and flopping around and shouting "Daddy, look at that!" and "Daddy, did you see that?" and "Wow that was silly!" as loud as he could.  He had just passed the one hour mark (and still had about fifteen minutes before his sticker said he had to get off the trampolines) when he finally gave up, admitting he was too tired to keep going.  A few times before that I caught him lying face-down on the mats between the trampolines, but as soon as I said something he got back up and started running again.

On our way out of the building he had this to say:

James:  Daddy?  Is that the Trampoline Museum? 

(Because nearly all of the other really fun places we go that are inside big buildings are named The Something Museum.  I am constantly amazed at how his brain works at fitting new experiences into an established framework.) 

Me:  Sure, buddy, I guess it is. 

James:  I LOVE the Trampoline Museum! 

Mostly unrelated, I'm coming down with a cold, so when we got home we grabbed a quick bite and then James sat down to play with some cars, so of course I got down on the floor to play cars with him.  Something quiet and un-demanding sounded like a fine idea to both of us, James was exhausted and I was groggy.  At some point along the way I obviously fell asleep.  I know this because the next thing I remember is him poking me in the face, me jerking awake and what I will describe as a rain of Hot Wheels crashing off me while Christine laughed and asked if I'd been asleep.  I guess he had spent the time piling cars on my sleeping form while I was snoozing.