I'd appreciate your vote!

Anyone who has a child who is in a wheelchair or who will someday be considered for a wheelchair can probably relate to the wheelchair meltdown. You know, when your child is fitted for his/her first wheelchair, and you later bring it home. It looks so final, so.... well, wheelchair-ish. I've heard many stories about parents who find this to be a particularly hard time. The realization that their child is no longer a baby, no longer in that stroller stage. Many parents cry about the first wheelchair purchase. (aside from the price of it!)

I didn't really have that issue when Cameron got his chair.

Well, let me back up. Cameron got his first wheelchair quite a number of years ago. He was probably 3 or so. And, it was an emotional time for me, but more so because of how we acquired the chair. This perfect little purple wheelchair was given to us by the children's hospital. It had been donated back to the hospital by a family when their young daughter had passed away. There wasn't a mark on the chair- it had hardly been used. That really hit home with me, and still thinking about it now, I get emotional. But, we used the chair for many years and love the chair, and are thankful to the little girl and her family.

Because Cameron has a habit of sleeping during the day, he needed a set of "wheels" that reclines. The donated wheelchair didn't recline, so we happily used it in the house, but couldn't use it when we were out and about living life, or when he went to school, etc. It was recommended that we get a special needs stroller, and although I first liked it (or thought I did), I quickly realized that I loathed the thing. It reclined (which was good), but it didn't fit through doors (the wheels were too wide), and it was heavy and awkward, and it looked "babyish". When Cameron was 8 and we got his wheelchair van, we needed to upgrade to a wheelchair because the stroller didn't fit onto the ramp to get onto the van.

I was SO delighted with the new wheelchair we got several months ago. It is a Zippie (by Quickie), and it is wonderful. It stears beautifully indoors. It even does better outdoors than the stroller did. It fits through doors! It has wonderful recline options for when he's sleeping. It is just generally very easy to use. When we got this wheelchair- the first wheelchair that he would be seen in out in public, at school, etc- I wasn't upset at all. After all, he was a big boy now, too big for that darn stroller, and he should have a big boy chair. Everyone loved it, and he got many compliments on it. And I was happy.

Until today.

My husband took him into the seating place to get his headrest assessed and adapted. Mr. Cameron has a habit of sleeping in the van, and hangs WAAAAY out of his wheelchair when he does so. We wanted to have his chest straps tightened, and maybe some type of side support for his head. Well, he came home (crashed out in a dead sleep) with some contraption to hold up his head while he sleeps (I didn't like the look of it, but it would only be when he's crashed out, and I admit- I wanted one to hold my head when I napped in the passenger seat), and this awful looking head rest with these big sticking-out side supports.

I was traumatized.

I took the kids to the pool where my daughter had swimming lessons, and I felt really self consious. I didn't want to unload the wheelchair from the van and wait with the other parents and kids. But I did, then I went home and called my husband.

"I don't like it," I said. "I really don't like it. He looks disabled."

Now, I'm surprised that my husband didn't give me a big DUH on the phone.  When I told my good friend about my issue with it on the phone, she and I kind of laughed about my reaction and (duh) statement. But, I just don't like it. Somehow, the need for more supports, just makes him look more disabled in my head. Could he look 'more disabled'? He doesn't walk or talk, or use his hands really functionally. We know he understands quite a bit, but he really can't communicate his needs or what he understands to us. Isn't that pretty disabled? Hadn't this sunk into my brain yet?

My son is sweet as a button and I adore him and couldn't imagine life without him. And I know that he is "different", and I'm aware of the challenges he faces and that we face together, but I think I sometimes forget. I forget about reality. I forget about how others perceive him or us. I think that's why when I watched myself on the video I did for the donor's report for the children's hospital, where I talked about Cam and our challenges, I got so emotional. I'm used to telling the story of us, but not used to WATCHING me talk about it. I watched it and was like - wow, she (I) has a child with really significant special needs and medical issues. And I cried. I don't usually feel sad for myself. But, I felt sad for that lady I watched speaking on the video.  It was sort of an out of body experience watching myself talk about it.

It's really a very silly thing, because I know that there are people who need tremendous body support who have very fulfilling and eventful lives, and I don't think any less of them, nor do I feel sorry for them. And, I shouldn't worry about other people's perceptions.

But, at the same time, I don't like that head rest, and it WILL be changed.

Now that I think about it, I think I may have figured out part of my issue. Cameron's progression is SOOOOO slow. Almost non-existantly slow.  It takes years for him to learn a new skill. For instance, he just started to actually grab a toy and bring it towards him to play with. Took him almost 9 years to learn that skill. Needing MORE support added to his equipment is a step back (even though he doesn't need it when he's awake and sitting upright). It's just plain depressing.

Oh, and not to mention the fact that he looks "more disabled".  Yes, I'm a nutbar...

That head rest has got to go!

How ironic- I wrote this post a few days ago. And before I even posted it, my friend was telling me about how she is glad she didn't have a 3rd child like she had first wanted, and how she has all this "freedom" now that her kids are getting older. I told her how I had just written about this, and how hard this is for me. Awkward. Should have kept my mouth shut.

I find it funny how people will talk about this, and not have any realization about what this means for me, and the "freedom" I will never have...


Bummed... Having a Medically Complicated Child Often Means Giving Up Freedom

I don't bummed about life with a disabled child too often, because I don't let myself. I try not to think about it, and I just enjoy him. But, when I think about the lifelong commitment of having Cameron, and what it means for my freedom and my own quality of life, it does sometimes get me down.

I'm jealous of my friends who have all typical children when they talk about their lives. They can leave their child/ren with babysitters. They don't have to worry about seizures and gtubes getting pulled out. They don't have to worry that their child can't communicate his or her needs to someone. They just don't have to consider so many things that I have to consider.
But, what really gets to me is the fact that while my friends have children who are getting older and will be able to be left alone, and they have more freedom, I will never have that luxury. I won't be able to get Cameron (my oldest) to watch his sisters so I can run to the store to do errands. I can't leave him in the car unattended. I can't just let him play in the yard like other 9 year olds can, and keep an eye on him.

My friends' children are getting older and they are appreciated their children's independence, and their time is freed up. Mine is not. I thought I commited to being tied to the hip to my children for X number of years, just like everyone else. It's hard when they are enjoying life, and I have to worry about whether I can go, which often means bringing him with me, and whether or not it is wheelchair accessible.

I don't feel sorry for myself that Cameron is my son. In fact, my life is very blessed with him. But, I do miss my freedom, and yes, I admit that it makes me angry and I do feel sorry for what I am missing, and that unlike others with toddlers, there is no end in sight for me.

I have a difficult decision to make, which I'm really struggling with.

We live in New Brunswick, Canada. Myself, my husband, and our children(our special needs son who just turned 9, his sister who is almost 7,and his 3 yr old sister). Our family and the majority of our friends live here, close to us. They are a tremendous help with the girls when we need it, and a huge support to me. Many people offer to help with our son, but he's a complicated little fellow. His feeding tube, and the possibility of difficult seizures- well, they're a little intimidating to people. He also doesn't walk- so he's getting harder for people to lift, and will only get harder. So, while we get a lot of help when we need it with the girls (for instance if he had to go in the hospital),we have very little help with him. Part of that may also be the fact that I don't *feel* as though I can leave him, because our nearby hospital is not knowledgeable in the workings of feeding tube buttons, and how to replace it if it were to get accidentally pulled out.

Recently, we went to the IWK, a children's hospital that is in Nova Scotia, Canada. About a 4, or 4.5 hour drive away from where we live. We went for a scheduled visit for Cameron to put him on the ketogenic diet for seizures. I love the IWK. I love the care they give, I love their knowledge in all things about my complicated little man. We actually lived closer to the IWK when Cameron was very young, but moved back home to be close to family again. Well, when we went back for the scheduled visit, I fell in love all over again. I love the city, I love the province, I love the people. I LOVE the hospital. In NB, I'm the "resident expert" on gtubes.It's scary, and I'm tired of it. I always feel so tied to Cameron, like I have to be close to him, or always able to be contacted by phone should a problem arise. If he were at school and an issue happened,they can't just call the ambulance or the hospital, because they wouldn't know what to do.

So, imagine my feelings when we were at the children's hospital for that week, and I took Cameron to the playroom. There were maybe 8 children total in the room. Besides us,there were at least (that I could see) THREE other children with feeding tubes (they were hooked up for feeds). THREE. My initial response was wow, this is so comforting. A place where we aren't different, and I don't have to explain my situation or anything to these other parents. They "get it". But within 3-5 seconds of my feeling of comfort, I was completely overwhelmed and had to hold back tears. There were THREE other children in the room with feeding tubes.The depth of what that meant was astounding. If something happened- if something happened there, there were TONS of people in that hospital with 1st hand experience with those buttons who could easily deal with it. It wouldn't turn into an emergency situation. It would be dealt with quickly and probably without issue.

The next day I had a meeting with the dietitian for teaching purposes in our room, and one of the Child Life workers came down and asked if they could take my son to the playroom for me while I had my teaching, and I sent him on his way with her. The dietitian asked me if I was a bit anxious about him going. I broke down and cried. The complete opposite, I explained. I can send him with someone and not be with him, and know that he will be ok. I don't have that sense of comfort at home.

Do you know what I would give to be able to go on a date night with my husband, or to go on a trip for work, or go away with friends? I adore my son, and I want to be his primary care giver, I really do. But, I want to feel like there is a backup, someone else who can handle things and so I don't have to worry. I worry about myself and my safety and my life quite often. And not because I don't want to die- but because of the fact that it TERRIFIES me to think that if something were to happen to me, what would happen with him. (That being said, my husband is very good with him, but I do more of the hands-on things with Cam, as he works outside the home). I think about Cam's future often, and that I won't be here to always care for him. Where we live now, and how things are, no one will understand how to care for him.

Our trip to the children's hospital made me want to move back there (closer this time). There is such an amazing community around that hospital. I feel at home there. I really like the city. For the most part, it is more wheelchair accessible. My husband can easily transfer for work, and there are more opportunities for him to advance in the company there that don't exist here. Seems like an easy choice, right?

Not exactly. We have been blessed here. Where we are now (a small community), they have supported us tremendously.People know us here. They know Cameron. His school (kids and staff) are amazing to him. They have bonds with him that would be hard to build somewhere else. Our family is here. I do know from the past though,that I would still come home for visits and spend good quality time with them. But still, I worry about my parents. They are still relatively young, but what will happen when they get older, or if they needed me?

Part of me keeps thinking that I should keep living where I am and fight to make changes here and get things set up ideally for him. But the reality is, I can't make gtube experts appear out of no where who are going to be here the next 50+ years to care for him.

A few weeks ago, I had made up my mind. We were going. I was 98% certain.And we were doing it now, during the summer months, before school started back up. I had already said my "maybe goodbyes" to the school staff (a very emotional thing for me- I cried for days). I told my hubby to hold off on asking work for the transfer because we needed to find a place to live, and that would be a challenge. I was right.

Things have never been easy for our family. Medical bills, insanely expensive equipment, the fact I can't work outside the home, and my husbands knee surgeries. Let's just say we have lots of love, but an over-abundance of money has never been an issue. We've been married for 10 years this summer, and we still do not own our own home (yet). So, we don't have the financial means to just move to a new place and buy (or build as we were hoping to do to work for Cam's wheelchair) a new home. Especially in a place that is MORE expensive to live than here. If we moved, we would have to rent. Of course, there are issues with that. We'd have to rent a house to have the space needed for all his equipment and the 3children. Not only is renting a house insanely over-priced, but he went to look and there is nothing that you can get a wheelchair into.

And then there is the school issue. It takes SO much work to get Cameron moved into a school and get the staff trained and the kids accustomed to him. I told my husband I'm only doing it once. I don't have the energy to do it, then do it again a year or two later. Plus, he needs to get into HIS school and stay there to have any chance of the other kids making connections with him. The issue is, if we could find a place to rent that would actually work, what are the chances we would find a house that works for us to buy later on down the road. Not good odds. So, we're stuck on the living thing.

We tried buying lottery tickets, but that didn't pan out. And none magically appeared, so it isn't looking good for us. It's quite disappointing,as I had done a lot of soul searching, and had made up my mind, which is really difficult for me, and now it can't happen. When we were visiting, we even happened to drive by a house that we all liked that was for sale, and it isn't advertised as such, but it has a ramp on the house. The girls noticed right away that there was something with a lady bug hanging off the house (their fav)and so we all fell in love with the ladybug house. A ramp and the right number of bedrooms and a ladybug. It was like it was meant to be. If only I could sell a kidney to get the down payment...

I guess we're back to living on love and playing the waiting game. I'm not quite sure what the right decision is. I thought I had made it. I thought I had seen all the signs pointing me down that road. Now I sit and wait and wonder what will happen. It's not a good feeling to feel stuck. I await a miracle or a sign to tell me what to do.

I haven't written for awhile. I keep trying to commit the time to keeping the blog current, but sometimes life gets in the way.

Cameron (my almost 9 yr old with Angelman Syndrome) has now officially been on the ketogenic diet for a few weeks. I mentioned in an earlier post that we are hoping to control some of the seizures that we don't see (with the diet) and to hopefully start to wean him off at least one seizure medication.

Learning about the diet in our case was fairly easy. Because Cameron has a feeding tube, it takes most of the hard work out of it. We don't have to deal with the discipline issues of keeping him away from certain foods. The dietitian carefully calculated out his formula requirements for him, so that takes the hard part out of that. I find it ironic that our original dietitian tried to talk us out of trying it, partially because of how much work was involved. (what work?)

The first week or so after coming home from the children's hospital, Cameron was pretty lethargic. We have no idea if that was diet related (although I'm told it can be) because he does that from time to time anyway. Then he got cranky. That wasn't pleasant. He got downright, inconsolable cranky for several days. Again, I have no idea what that was about. (Which is what I hate most about having a non-verbal child- how he can't explain to me what is wrong).

The past few days, Cameron has been a sweet, lovable, extremely happy little guy. To the extreme. I'm loving it. The funny thing is, he seems to be quite clear minded (not noticing any new skills yet though). He's looking around, taking everything in. However, we're pretty sure he's got quite a bit of little seizure stuff going on. I don't know if I can just see it more because his eyes seem so "clear" otherwise? We think we're seeing the return of drop seizures, and lots of little blinks and flutteries going on- just something "different" with his eyes. But his mood is fantastic. So, I'm trying not to panic. I'm optimistic that this will all work out in the end and that he will adjust to the diet and do well.  I'll keep you posted!

I was asked recently to do a written interview for SpecialNeedsKidsTalkRadio, to discuss my son, my experiences with Angelman Syndrome. Trials, tribulations, celebrations. How he & his disorder inspired me to start my own business.

Thought I'd post the link for my readers to check out:
WRITTEN INTERVIEW

The blog owner is a great gal (met through Twitter). I encourage you to check out her very informative site.

Well, the countdown is on. Today is April 12th. My 8 year old son is being admitted in less than a month to the children's hospital (May 11th) to be put on the ketogenic diet. I'm a little nervous, but also looking forward to seeing if it can help him.

Cameron's visible seizures are under control, except  for a few breakthrough seizures we've seen in the past year. So, why are we trying the ketogenic diet with him? (He's the lowest functioning child I've ever heard of). Because we know he *should* be functioning at a higher level for someone his age with Angelman Syndrome. The neurologist and I have wondered if he has a 2nd genetic condition affecting him, and tossed around the idea of testing him, but personally, I don't know if I want to know.

We know from doing an EEG that Cam is experiencing seizures, even though we can't see them. So, it is hard to know how much those seizures are affecting what he can and can't do. He has also been on very sedating seizure meds for several years. Between the seizures and the meds, we are assuming that some of what he CAN do is being clouded. We're hoping that with the diet (as a seizure "medication"), we can wean him off of some of his sedating meds. And we're also hoping it will help the seizures we aren't seeing. I'm not expecting miracles, and I know that some people have experienced "miracles" with their kids and the ketogenic diet. But, what I am hoping for is some kind of mental clarity for Cam. I'm hoping that he can make more eye contact, and focus more. I'd like to see him being able to use his hands better to functionally pick something up.

What is the ketogenic diet? It is a very high fat, adequate protein and no carbohydrate diet that typically kids go on to help them get seizure control. I am including a few resources below for you to refer to for more indepth information if you're interested. I was a bit hestitant in the beginning about putting my little guy on a diet so high in fat, but typically the kids don't stay on it for more than 2 years, and it is really any healthier to be pumping all those drugs into his little boy long term? I doubt it.

We received some resistance from our local pediatric nutritionist in the beginning on trying this with Cam. In our province (New Brunswick), it hasn't become a popular method of seizure control yet, and to be fair, she hasn't seen a lot of good outcomes yet. But, the children's hospital in Nova Scotia really views this as a very valuable treatment, and they have a whole system of professionals and such in place. This is why we are going there to start it out, and we'll consult with them as needed. For us, it will be much simpler to do this with Cam, as he is almost fully gtube fed, and he honestly doesn't care if he eats by mouth. It will be relatively easy for us to measure out his needs and give them to him by formular, whereas a child eating by mouth has to have every single item carefully weighed, and you'd have to try to keep your child from eating those 3 cheerios (or whatever carbs) that could throw them into seizures, etc. Yes, for us there will be much less complication.

Cameron got a little bit of chocolate for Easter today. He'll get to have a nibble of that, then no chocolate again perhaps for 2 years. For him, he won't mind. For one of my daughters, it would be torture (for them, and for us!)

So, in less than a month we will go and be admitted. Cameron will have tests done (an EEG and blood tests) and they will fast him and monitor him and his blood levels. And we will introduce the new formula and vitamins and we will be taught exactly what we CAN feed him by mouth if we are to give him something.

I'm very fearful of messing with the seizure control we DO have, but I am excited by the possibility of more mental clarity for him, and giving his body a rest from the medications. I'd appreciate if you could keep us in your thoughts and I'll keep you posted on how we make out.


RECOMMENDED RESOURCES:

The Ketogenic Diet: A Treatment for Children and Others with Epilepsy is a book that the children's hospital sent us in preparation for the diet. I haven't read it all yet, but it is a great book (obviously, if it is the book that they recommend as a resource)

Keto Kid: Helping Your Child Succeed on the Ketogenic Diet -I've heard Deborah Snyder speak in an interview about her experiences.

I wanted to share with you a communication device that is very simple, and something I really didn't expect to have the effect that it did.

My son is nearing the end of grade 3. He has been included in the school system with "typical" kids since kindergarten. I didn't hold him back at all, because I wanted him to continue through with the same students, and continue the bonds that he already had. Cam has had a few children really be interested in him, but because of his limitations with fine/gross motor and communication, they really hadn't bonded with him quite as much as I had wished. Of course, my heart longed for him to have "friendships" and to have more interaction, but it didn't really happen.

When Cameron transitioned to grade 3, he went from a primary school (K-2) up to an elementary school (3-5). I was nervous about the transition. The same kids were moving over, but there were also older kids, and I worried about kids teasing or being mean, or just not "getting him" or ignoring him. With the new school, Cameron had a new teacher assistant, this time a male. I LOVE the TA (a whole other blog entry). The TA is so good at including Cameron in where he can.

There was a Step by Step (with levels) communicator (from AbleNet) that came with Cameron from the previous school to the new one. Between the TA and I, we decided that we would use the button device to record messages back and forth between school and home. I knew this wasn't really functional communication in the way that Cameron can't decide or choose what to say (I'm recording on it), but I thought it would still help bridge the gap with the other students. I am SHOCKED to say that this little button has made the HUGEST difference in Cam and how the kids perceive him.

(photo from www.enablemart.com)

I record a message on the button in the morning before he goes to school. Often I do it as if it were him doing the message (I went out with my family last night for dinner and did ____, I had my cousins over on the weekend for a sleepover, etc.) Sometimes I get one of his sisters to leave a message on there. I've also left funny messages.

His TA has scheduled times in the day where Cam gets to share about his evening or weekend with his classmates. They look forward to listening to it. Then at the end of the day, the TA records a message to come back, saying what they did in school, or if they had something special going on they'll tell me. Or sometimes they will record something that Cam was listening to or did on the computer. My favorite is when his friends from school leave messages for him, or when I press play and I hear "GOODBYE CAMERON!!!" from the entire class. (and of course, mommy gets teary eyed).

The TA has said that this little bit of extra communication has made an amazing difference in how they perceive Cameron and interact with him. He said they often fight over who gets to leave a message, or who gets to push him in the wheelchair at lunch. When they have their "kindness week" at school, they often target Cameron to perform their act of kindness for.

I'd highly recommend trying out this simple idea if you have a non-verbal child, especially one who is an inclusion program in school, who is struggling with communication.

Here is a link to AbleNet's Step by Step Communicator.
www.enablemart.com/Catalog/Basic-Communicators/Step-by-Step-Communicator-with-Levels

This one has "levels". You may not necessarily need levels.
I encourage you to visit the link to see their tips on how to use this device. And, it is much more affordable than some of those more complicated devices on the market.

I met the most amazing person today.

I went to a family get-together (a birthday gathering for my grandmother), and I was told that a very nice woman would be showing up (the long term girlfriend of my aunt's brother). I was told she worked with special needs children, and that I would really like her. Knowing how sweet the rest of the family is, I was looking forward to meeting her. I didn't realize what an emotional day I was about to have.

She showed up, and I knew immediately that I liked her. She just had a "nature" about her that was kind and you couldn't help but like. She works as a teacher assistant- used to work with young children, but had recently been relocated to the high school. Well, of course, I like anyone who chooses to work with our special kids She then opened up to me about a little boy she had raised as her own from birth to 3 years of age. He had been born with a rare chromosomal disorder, and like my son didn't walk or talk, didn't sit up by himself yet, had hospitalizations in the same children's hospital my son had spent time in, had seizures and sensory issues and even a feeding tube, just like my little guy. She told me they had even wondered if her little man had Angelman Syndrome like Cam, but no, he had something different.  She told me how she got resistance from people who knew her, because she wasn't a young lady herself and caring for him was hard on her, but her love was so strong it didn't matter. Those people are so special- the ones who choose to take on something so involving, children who aren't even their own. It was all I could manage to hold it together when she showed me his photo.

I didn't ask details about how he died, but he passed away at 3 years old. But I did ask how long ago it had been. Only a year or so. Ugh, so fresh...

Of course, she was very interested in Cameron, whom I had there.

I was sitting, holding Cameron later on the couch, and she approached me. "Can I ask something of you?" she said. I would have done anything for this woman at this point, I was so touched by her story. She had one simple request: "Can I hold Cameron"?

My heart sunk to my stomach. I totally knew why she wanted to hold him. She was missing that quiet little snuggle-ness of her little guy, where you lovingly stroke his sweet head and face, and he snuggles into you, giving a contented little sigh. It's those moments like that that other parents don't understand, unless they have a lower functioning, and non-verbal child like our boys.

She held him for a long time, until it was time for her to leave. Her eyes welled up with tears on several occasions, and so did mine- I kept having to leave the room. I know she didn't want to let him go, and her heart was aching. I am so sad for her. I told her she was welcome to come visit whenever she liked, and I hope she will. I think she will. It's kind of strange to meet someone that you share such a deep respect and mutual understanding with right away. And, in a world where so many people don't know how to interact with my son, I'll never forget how lovingly she treated by boy.

I dedicate this post to her little angel.

I recently had this article about me and my son come out on the front page (!!) of a local newspaper. I really love this article. The reporter was great to interview with, and I found this to be the most accurate article written about us yet. It's always nice to get the word out on Angelman Syndrome whenever I can too.

'Mompreneur' proves hard work pays off

Jennifer Fiander has parlayed a family joke into an eBay award-winning business and while she's not entirely laughing all the way to the bank, she's aiming to be on Oprah one day.

The Hampton mother was recently named eBay Canada's 2008 Mompreneur of the Year, which comes with a $2,000 prize.

After 1,600 transactions on the auction website, Fiander has a 100 per cent positive feedback score and still chats with many customers who search out products at her Lil' Angel Gifts eBay store and on her own website at www.lilangelgifts.com

A graduate of St. Thomas University in Fredericton, Fiander studied here for five years.

She took a double major in English and psychology, before leaving university with her teaching degree in 1998.

While she loved living in the capital city, when Fiander met and married her husband Corey and had her first child Cameron, she needed to be closer to her family in Quispamsis to help her special needs son.

Cameron, now 8, was born with a genetic disorder called Angelman Syndrome. Because of their generally happy and sweet personalities, parents and caregivers often refer to people with AS as Angels.

To Fiander and her husband, Cameron became their Little Angel Man, but he came into the world with a litany of ailments - little or no use of words, seizures, sleep disturbances and problems walking.

As an infant, Cameron slept so poorly, Fiander quickly became a sleep-starved mother.

To give her a break, her mother Cherri Belyea volunteered from time-to-time to take her grandson, but fretted about the proper way to look after him.

"Just as a joke, I did an instruction manual that would accompany Cameron and I put it in his diaper bag," she said.

For fun, she likened her baby to a product that required fuelling and waste disposal handling.

"People always said babies should come with an instruction manual and now they do," Fiander told Belyea.

Fiander wrote the book in 2000 in the wee hours of the morning on a beat-up laptop that barely had enough memory to run her printer.

"I laid it out, printed it off and took it to Staples at the time and had it all bound and ready before I told my husband I was working on it. I just tinkered with it and got it done and stuck some clip art in it.''

When she showed it to her husband, he thought it was cute and assumed she'd bought it at a store. When he realized his creative wife had written it, he was gung-ho for her to sell it.

"I had shown a few to family members and I had given a couple away at baby showers," Fiander said.

Through word-of-mouth, she started to get orders for the Instruction Manual for Babies and produced them from home.

Her second book - Organizing Your Child's Special Needs - is a journal to write down everything you have to remember or are likely to be asked about your child.

"Cameron had a lot of doctor and hospital visits in his first two years of life. Medical students would ask you the same questions over and over and they always want a thorough history of everything. They want to know dates of hospitalization. When did the problems with seizures start? What type of medications were they on? How long were they on them? What were the effects?" Fiander said.

"I needed a little book to keep everything straight and I needed it small so it would fit in a bag. I did it for myself, but I made a copy of it and put it on eBay (in 2002). That was my first eBay experience.

"Parents found it on there and they just started bidding it up and up and up and there were bidding wars for the book. So, it was obvious, they needed this too.''

Eight-months pregnant with her second child, Fiander borrowed $5,000 from a business organization that helps budding entrepreneurs. She purchased a better computer and a binding machine so she could make the books at home.

Armed with another $2,000 training allowance, she took a course in HTML, so she could use the computer language to develop her own website, in addition to selling on eBay.

With the success of her two journals, Fiander branched out. She's written all kinds of diary-style journals for all occasions and for all types of people.

Her favourite product is her wedding party journals where brides can give a mother or father, spouse-to-be or other special people in their lives thoughts about their relationship under such headings as "Advice you have given me that I'll always remember" or "What you've taught me about things, life or myself."

The journals are unabashedly sentimental - as Fiander freely admits is a facet of her personality - and guaranteed to generate tears.

Although there's huge competition in the wedding market, Fiander has excellent word-of-mouth reviews.

Australia and United Kingdom customers are lining up behind her primary market in the United States to buy journals and she's added e-journal products to the mix.

To produce higher-quality books, Fiander now farms out production, which has increased costs and she hasn't hit the big payout yet.

"I'm in the in-between stage. Every year, I'm steadily growing a little bit more and a little bit more."

While her son Cameron now goes to school, along with his sister Kennedy, 6, Fiander still has a two-year-old daughter Peyton at home.

"My plan is to just keep growing my business a little bit more every year until she goes to school.''

Fiander said anyone who has seen her journals, keeps encouraging her.

"Whenever I would take that little record book to the hospital, the nurses would says: 'Wow, you're going to make Oprah some day,' " Fiander said. "It would be nice."

Her husband is 100 per cent behind her, but since the salesman has really good health insurance, Fiander said she won't let him quit his day job.

"He believes in me and he's stuck behind me, but he's waiting for the big payout. It will come," she said. "It's growing, so I'm happy. I have a balance."