A child's view: Morning nap

Friday, November 13th, Reuben is having fun at school and Mama takes us for a stroll through Westwood Village. We make our usual stop at Wholefoods where I always get to try lovely cheeses and the man behind the cafe counter always gives me little special things to try, like warm chocolate milk and cookies. Mama, I have to confess, is a cheesaholic and whilst she's only supposed to take one little piece to try, she keeps coming back to the same display hoping no one will notice, and picks up more little blocks of cheddar with cranberries. Anyway, all this cheese eating has got the better of me as we walk through the village to Mama's favourite camera store. Mama's talking to a few of the technicians: the first man has incredibly long dreadlocks, the second is completely bald and the third has super shiny black hair. With my little brain trying to decipher how three men could look so completely different, it makes my eyes tired and that along with the little blocks of cheese sitting at the bottom of my stomach, and their dulcet tones, I start to feel sleepy. I have a lovely cosy seat in my orange Bugaboo and it smells of me so that's familiar and comfortable. I rest my hand on its arm with my fingers curled round the parasol and my eyes just, well, flutter and drop til I'm happy in dreamland.

A child's view: Time to eat

See, I've been working with this lovely lady, Juliana, for the last two years. She does some really fun stuff with me, like letting me swing from the rafters whilst wrapped up in a sling made of a kaleidoscope of colours. She lets me muck around in the ball pit. She does these stretches with my neck muscles. And then, unfortunately, at the end of our hour, she lies me down on an incline and gets this vibrating tool out which she puts in my mouth, I understand to improve the sensations I'm feeling. And then she works on getting me to swallow things, like food, heaven forbid, and we play games so that I put things in her mouth instead of mine so I can be the one giving her therapy for a change. Some people we meet get it all messed up in their heads and it's really quite funny. What with our hopes for the trach coming out in the next few months (I'll be writing on my feelings on that front pretty soon just so's you know), everyone thinks that it will mean I'll be eating with my mouth. And that's a scary thought as if they think the purpose of my trach is for feeding, then they really do need a bit of education, because, stick food down my trach and well, it'll just go straight into my lungs. Not a good idea.

So anyway, I have absolutely no objection to putting things in my mouth, especially Callum's leftover bottles or snippets of food. I've also recently discovered that there's a Victorian chest in our living room whose handles taste mighty fine too after Callum and I discovered how to unwind them. (One of those instances when Mama ran very fast. I like those as she's not much of an athlete it has to be said). But here's the thing. I'm really not that keen on this eating business. I mean, I can swallow and all that, but why would I want to put food in my mouth, go through that whole effort of munching away and swallowing to fill up my stomach when I have this perfectly good Gtube in my stomach that gets filled with liquid meals and fills me up beautifully. And anyway, I can't smell and apparently things taste much tastier when you can actually smell them, whatever that sensation is. Still, I just don't get it. Mama hopes I will one day, but we'll see...

The telephone

In Reuben's World, everything makes a great telephone. A big smile swept across my face yesterday when he picked up a toy wrench and used that as a phone, today, the video remote control, the bottom of a toy box. He knows he's being very funny when he does it too, looking round with that Elvis half smile on his face and chuckling away to himself.

A child's view: No undershirt

In the ABC song, the word for U is undershirt, so undershirts have always been a big thing in our house.

At bathtime, Jason gets covered in water as Reuben (and now Callum) splash all over him. Best take your shirt off then. "No undershirt" signs Reuben.

On Malibu beach, Reuben spots a burly weightlifter, all bronzed and with a rippling six pack. ''No undershirt", he signs and the gesture really tickles.

"No undershirt", signs Reuben as he points to the Scottish teddy who's lost his tartan jacket.

"No undershirt", signs Reuben gesturing towards the monkey at the LA Zoo.

So many people and animals without their undershirts on. Outrageous!