More Magic Words

I have received a great response to the Magic Words post I did in July 2011 and the update in Feb 2012 with the lists in .docx format.  I have had a few people ask me if I could do some lists for the next 100 words in the same format as my last ones so here they are.  In this collection you will find a Magic Words 101 – 200 list, 20 pink words, 20 purple words, 20 aqua words, 20 lime words and 20 lemon words. Just in case you print or download out of sequence, this is the suggested order the words are learnt.
All of the files are available to download in .pdf and .docx format.  Don’t forget, if you want to have the .docx files in Victorian Cursive, you can download the Victorian Modern Cursive Script font from the Department of Education and Early Childhood Development.
I hope the files are useful to you and your child and don’t forget, you can print out as many copies as you like.  You may want to have a set to pop up on a wall so your child can see them regularly, cut up the words to use as flash cards or make 2 sets of words so you can play a snap or matching game. 
I would love it if you added a picture of how you are using the words with your child to my Facebook page or share them in the comment section :)

Click on this pic to take you to my Google Drive where you can access these files and the previous 100 word lists.





Click on this pic to take you to Scribd where you can access this collection and others I have published.



***Picture links no longer active - sorry***

Getting your speck, spot or splodge checked could save your life

**Warning: some pictures included in this blog post may make some
readers feel uncomfortable**

There are three ways I usually describe myself; a mother, a wife and a nurse – in that order. When one of my children are sick, I respond like a mother, not a nurse. My eldest son loves telling the story about when he needed stiches in his chin. That his mother, who has no problem watching surgeries and dressing unsightly wounds, passed out and hit the deck like a sack of potatoes while watching him get a local anaesthetic.
My husband treated me like a nagging wife when I mentioned, on Christmas Day 2009, that he had a funny looking spot on the back of his upper left arm. He told me it was ok, and he’d keep an eye on it. I had thought I would mention it since it was on the BACK of his arm where he couldn’t see it. He also discarded my mum’s concern a few months later.
Summer rolled around again and I said to him; “Remember that spot I said looked funny at Christmas? It’s gotten darker. You should get it checked”. Once again, my concern was brushed off with cries of “It’s fine. It’s just a freckle”.  Honestly, what could I do?? it wasn’t like I could chop his arm off and take it in to a Doctor’s office.
Anytime he had a Doctor’s appointment I would say, “get him to have a look at your arm”. Of course, the reply to this was the Doctor was running late, or he forgot. I even circled the darn thing with a red sharpie for one appointment, thinking if he forgot to mention it, the huge target I had drawn on it might have attention drawn to it.
Fast forward to a few weeks ago, my Dad says to me, “Jeff may want to get that thingy on his arm looked at”. Hmmmm, what the one that mum and I have been pointing out for just over 2 years?? So, I relayed this information to my hubby that my Dad thinks he should get it looked at. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I found that he had made a Doctor’s appointment to have it looked at on the Tuesday.
So, off he went for his appointment and I think he was a little surprised when the Doctor said he would need to have a shave biopsy done on it and have it sent of to Pathology. The flip side of that is he came home and showed be where it had been shaved off and said “See. This is all he did”. On Friday, he was called back to the Doctors as they had his results.

That little black speck, that became an spot, then a splodge was a malignant melanoma.  The Doctor went through all the paperwork with hubby and told him that they would need to completely remove the melanoma and a margin around it.  I think he was still fairly nonchalant until the Doctor drew an outline on his arm to show him just how much skin they needed to remove.

On Monday morning, Jeff had the melanoma and surrounding skin removed.

Now, honestly you would think the size of the dressing would have given him some idea about just how much skin he had had removed. He was more concerned about the size of the freaking bruise!
By Friday, the dressing was looking a little gross so I morphed from wife to nurse and redressed his wound for him.  He asked if I could take a picture so he could see it properly.  I wish he had seen it earlier, because it was the moment he actually saw the 21 stitches in his arm, that he realised just how much skin had had to be taken and how much damaged that little splodge caused.

Like many people, Jeff had dismissed spot on his arm as a freckle or a mole. As an adult, he has always been sun-smart, so he wrongly assumed that it couldn’t be anything serious. “Melanomas can start in the skin or parts of the body that have never been exposed to the sun” (Cancer Council Victoria, 2011).
So please, if someone mentions to you that a speck, spot or splodge on your body looks a little strange or they think it might have changed shape, taking 10 minutes and visiting your Doctor to have it checked out could save your life.  I’m sure you’d rather it be checked and be told it’s nothing than having a chunk of your skin removed.
For further information head to Sunsmart where they have examples of what to watch for, a step-by-step skin self-examination and other very useful resources.

ANZAC Day 25th April, 2012

This week at Joey Scout’s, Jacob learnt about ANZAC Day.  They had many wonderful learning activities, but Jacob’s favourite was making the poppy.  When he brought it home, he told me that the red poppy means remembering our soldiers. Not bad for a seven year olds interpretation.

How to make crepe paper poppies.
The poppy is a simple craft project to make. 
You will need:
*red crepe paper
*green pipe cleaners
*Scissors

Draw and cut out 2 or more poppy shapes from crepe paper. Bundle 2 or more together and poke a hole through the centre of each shape. poke the pipe cleaner through the hole/s, then curl it around to secure and form the centre of the flower.

{Image Source}

 

 

World Down Syndrome Awareness Day 21/03/2012

Image from HERE

I was going to share a post for today that was full of information and facts until I read a blog post by Julia from Five Fairies & A Fella.  It is so beautifully written, honest and  personal that I had to ask her if I could share it with my readers. As soon as she said yes, I hit delete on what I had initially written.

Thank you for allowing me to share your words, Julia.

Because of you - in honour of World Down syndrome awareness day, March 21.

To my dear little Georgie girl,

I remember the moment I first loved you.  It should have been the moment you were born, and in a way it was, but it took me a while to really open my heart.  In that first couple of hours, I did all the right things, all the things a mum should do.  I held you, and kissed your dear little head, I patted you when you cried, and when I knew you had Down syndrome, I wrapped you a little tighter, and rocked you, and told you it would be ok..somehow it would.

Somehow though, I felt a little distant.  I gave you to your daddy, in fact, I was eager that he take you.  The midwife said that I could take a shower, and I stood there, feeling almost out of body, and nearly out of mind, for 45 minutes.  When I came out, the light in the room was dim, and you were swaddled tightly, and laying in your hospital crib.  The double bed in the birth suite was made up, so that your daddy could stay the night, and we could try to come to terms with what we had just learned.  We were scared baby - so, so scared.

I got into bed, and you started to fuss.  It wasn't a newborn scream, more of a grizzle, but of course, I got straight up to attend to you.  I held you upright, with your head next to mine, and you rubbed your cheek against mine, and you sighed.  The softest, sweetest sound, almost one of relief, as if you had been seriously wondering where I had gone all that time, after all we had been together for the last 9 months, while you carried your little secret inside my body.

And that was it - I knew we'd be ok.  In the four years that have followed, you have taught us all a lot about life, and about what matters.  The day after you were born, a midwife told your dad and I about the statistical chances of us staying together now you were part of our family, and they weren't pretty.  I looked at your daddy in alarm, as we never said so in as many words, but I think we both felt that we were a couple who had already lost their way.  Too many work hours, too much tiredness, too little time alone, far too little to talk about any more.  Too many petty arguments about things that didn't matter.

Your dad just looked back at me, so calm, so sure, and said "No way.  We need each other more than ever now".  And just like that, you started putting our family back together, the catalyst for so much good change - maybe even the baby we needed to have.  I was starting to see that you had some pretty cool superpowers.

At home, you started spreading your little awesome a little further.  Our home, before you, was certainly full of love, but as I said, quite a bit of angst as well, and I yelled too much, at your dad, and at your sisters.  It didn't take you long to let us know that you didn't like yelling, not one little bit.  You didn't mind people screaming as they had a game of chasey, or kids yelling near your ears, but the minute there was any yelling in anger, and you certainly could tell, your demeanour changed completely.  Your little face would get so sad, and then you would hold your breath for a few seconds, and then just HOWL.  You liked people to be gentle with each other, so, because of you, we all learned to be more gentle.

You didn't like to rush.  As far as you were concerned, you had all the time in the world.  You were so good at putting up with me as I rushed you to kinder and school runs, rushed your feed, put you down to play on the floor as I rushed to put on another load of washing.  You never complained, but I saw a change in you when I put you down, a disappointment, like you just wanted to be in my arms more, to just sit, be calm, be quiet.  All things that I was very bad at, always rushing from one thing to the next.  I said to your dad that we had to hold you more, as you needed us.  So, when your dad got home, he'd sit in his chair, take you in his arms, and most of the time you would both fall asleep.  And then later on, it was my turn.  The girls were always desperate for a cuddle too...so, because of you, we learned to be slower, to savour what mattered.  And it wasn't the dishes.

You didn't like to do things quickly!  Even by the "standards" set by other kids with Down syndrome, you were pretty languid.  But when you "got" something, oh my, how we clapped, and cheered, and how many happy tears dropped from our eyes!   Your sisters were only little, but they learned really quickly how important it was when you worked something out, and how it was the BEST feeling out.  So, because of you, we learned to be patient.  There's no hurry, after all.

In the early days, I had to hand you over to doctors, to operate on your eyes.  That was really hard, and I cried, and your daddy cried, and when I handed you over to a surgeon at 5 weeks old, for your first operation, I damn near had a nervous breakdown.  But you, you barely even shed a tear.  When you came out with stitches in your eyes, when you went under again to have those stitches removed, when you were frustrated with the patches and they made you swat at your eyes, still, you didn't cry.  And we decided, if you didn't cry, then we should try to be stronger, too.  So, because of you, we learned to be brave.  Because they don't come any braver than you.

So, in honour of World Down syndrome Awareness Day, on March 21, I want to thank you, for all the gifts you have given us.  Sometimes I have sat in groups of people, and told them about how many positives that you have bought to our lives, but I sometimes see their eyes cloud over a little, as if I am trying to sell something, and they ain't buying.  But that is just simply not true.  Imagine telling people that you had met someone who taught you the true value of family, taught you what mattered in life, taught you how to slow down, and savour life, and be more gentle, and more brave, and more strong.  They would say, who is this wonderful person!?  Aren't you the lucky one?  Does it matter that those gifts were given to you by someone who just happens to have an extra copy of the 21st chromosome?  It doesn't, not a bit.

We always call you the heart of our family, and you really are.  A giant heart it is, too, as it holds a piece of all of ours.

Love you to the moon and back (and then back again),
Your besotted mummy.

**Please go to Julia’s blog Five Fairies & A Fella to leave her a comment on her words**
**Reposted with the permission of the original author**