Hamilton 911
So the other day, Noelle was having a discussion with Isaac, and he said something about mommy and daddy getting hurt. So she asked him what he would do.
"I would call 911!" he said.

This is both encouraging, and alarming. Encouraging, because he knows that if there is an emergency, and Mommy or Daddy are sick or injured, he needs to call 911, assuming a) He can reach the phone, and b) he knows what the numbers 9 and 1 look like - although I wouldn't put that past him at this point.

It is also alarming, though, because Isaac's grip on reality as you and I understand it, is tenuous at best. My concern is that the following call could occur.

Dispatch: "Hamilton emergency services. Police, fire or ambulance?"
Isaac" "You'd better call an ambulance. My friend Diego is in trouble. You need to rescue him."
D:"What seems to be the problem?"
I: "He is in trouble, He needs to be rescued."
D: "I understand. What kind of trouble, is he injured?"
I: "Yes, he is sick and injured and needs an ambulance."
D: "What kind of injury is it."
I: "He got eaten by the Polar Bear."
D: "I'm sorry?"
I: "He got eaten by the Polar Bear, and then I chased after him on my rescue scooter, and I killed him with my sword!"
D: "I'm sorry, did you say you killed Diego with your sword?"
I: "Yes. I killed the Polar Bear with my sword, so I'd better go get my rescue pack and rescue Diego. He needs my help."
D: "Can I talk to your mommy or daddy?"

This, I think, is a very real fear. We will see how it plays out.

In the meantime, it was the Down Syndrome Association of Hamilton's annual Christmas bash last weekend, and Sam was the hit of the show.

When we first got there, it seemed to be off to a slow start, and then Isaac discovered the games room. We played a few games, but Sam was getting heavy, so we had to go back to the main hall to rest every now and then. I should mention that at the time, Noelle was at her office frantically writing her Canada Council Grant that represents almost 50% of her Company's income, that was due that Monday. So she was nowhere to be found.

So Isaac and I play in the games room for a while, and then on our wandering around the expansive Chedoke Presbyterian Church, I see a sign that says "Nursery." Sensing the possibility of resting my arm, we wander in to find that they have taken the nursery, and turned it into a big crafts room for the kids.

"Isaac, do you want to do a craft?"
"Yes, I do."
"Which one."
"I want to do a craft!"
"Fine, off you go."
He didn't even look back. A cute 16 year old volunteer took him by the hand, and he never looked back.

So I take Sam out to the main hall, and the University Student who watches him two afternoons a week (Sarah, the DSAH president's daughter) proceeds to grab him, and parade him around the hall.

For the next hour, I have person after person coming up to me saying "I just want to:
a) Pinch his cheeks,
b) Kiss his cheeks,
c) See his cheeks again,
d) Eat him up he's so cute!

I'm not sure who was more popular. Him, or his cheeks.
Anyway, I go back after about 20 minutes to check on Isaac.
"Did you want some Pizza?" I call from the entrance to the room.
"No thanks. I'm making a reindeer."

15 minutes later:
"Isaac, there's Pizza for you."
"No thanks dad, I'm playing."

20 minutes later:
"Isaac, do you want some lunch?"
"Isaac. Isaac!"
"He's playing" replies the extremely cute teenage volunteer.

Finally, they announce in the main room that Santa is coming (Sam and his cheeks have fallen asleep, exhausted, at this point).

So I head back in. Isaac is playing with a huge mural of cut out outlines of kids' hands, and he's gluing little glittery bits of fabric to it.

At this point, I realize that Isaac has not only one cute teenage girl hanging off his every word, but two incredibly cute 15/16 year old girls smiling at him in amazement at every precocious word that comes out of his mouth.

The Male speech pathologist who organized the craft room looks at me and says "He's pretty much got it figured out, doesn't he."

It gets worse. I say "Isaac, Santa is coming." He drops his glue stick, and without another word, makes for the exit, leaving the girls waving at him and saying 'Bye Isaac." I have to grab him by the sleeve and get him to turn around and say "Thank you."

He is going to be deadly in about 13 years.

Finally, it should be noted that Sam has some words. He now knows that if he is put on the floor on his mat to play, and that if everyone leaves, he can shout "Ma ma ma ma ma!" and Mama will come and pick him up. He also just says 'Ma ma" periodically.

Also, when Noelle hands him to me, or if she's holding him and I come in the room, he gives a big smile and says "Da da da da." Or occasionally "Da da."

However, the other day, as Noelle was getting ready to take him to the office, he looked up at her, and clear as a bell said "Ba-by."

Now we play a game with him all the time where (for instance) I would put my hand on my chest and say "Da da", and then put it on his chest and say "Ba-by." He seems to be getting it.

All is well in Allenland. More to come.