Let's take the first step...

This may or may not surprise some of you, but I do pray.  Every night.  I never ask for anything selfish, but I do ask God for things I think he's forgotten to give us, and for a few, minor favours.  I ask that he bless my family, and that he make me a better mother.  That he grant me patience and understanding, and the energy to be the best mother I can possibly be. Most importantly though, I never ask him to bless my children without adding that he bless ALL the children of the world, because if anyone needs a good blessing, it's the 40 million children worldwide who suffer some sort of child abuse each year (WHO, 2001).

According to Statistics Canada a child dies every week at the hands of a caregiver.  Every week. It should go without saying that a good mother, father or guardian would never harm their child, but the reality of the situation is horrifying.  People who are not equipped to care for children are abusing, neglecting, and ultimately killing innocent children every day.  In fact, 70% of children who are the victims of homicide die before the age of five (statcan).  What could a child of five possibly do that would invite such a fate?  There is no answer to that question, for if there were, we could remedy this problem.

What's more, 90% of all abuse cases involving children are not reported (The Gallup organization).  Now, I'm not good at math, but I can guess that the statistics I just quoted would increase exponentially if we were to take all those phantom cases into account.  This is by far the most harrowing of information, because it means many, many more children are suffering.  Let us put this into perspective.  According Statistic Canada's Family Violence in Canada: A Statistical Profile a total of 54, 660 children under the age of 18 are either sexually or physically abused in Canada.  And if this number weren't awful enough, this number only represents the number of police reported cases, not the total number of cases actually occurring.  (If you want to see the actual, sickening, detailed data you can click here).

So what?  Well, in the spirit the Occupy movement, I say we Occupy abuse, and run IT out of town.  Love your children the best you can, keep them close, and be involved in their lives.  Know them, their friends, and their friends parents, so as to always place them in the best situation you can.  Participate in movements that promote family planning and education both at home and in foreign countries.  Most of all, let them know YOU, so that they might trust in you if ever they should need it. 

(if anyone knows the author of this photo, let me know so I can give credit to them!)

Sunrise

This morning as I drove to work Hunter squealed with excitement and pointed out the beautiful colors in the sky.  We drove down the highway, Parker quietly listening, observing our conversation, and we talked about fog and why the sun rises in the morning.  We sang the alphabet and talked about what we were going to do that day, and when Hunter would get to join me at school.  It didn't take me long to realize, that that moment was what life was all about. 

After a long, drawn out absence I recently returned to work.  My once free, albeit a tad humdrum life, changed immediately.  In some ways, for the better, and of course, in other ways, for worse. 

First, let me clarify that I LOVE my kids and recognize the importance of a strong, stable parental presence in the home.  Perhaps it is true that my children would benefit more from me being in the home full time, but I cannot deny that the inertia of stay-at-home mom life is crippling at times.  By the end of my maternity leave, I felt that it had become difficult for me to continue to perform the same tasks over, and over, and over again every day.  I was reduced to a slouchy bump on the couch, denying the kids even short trips to the park in passive aggressive protest against my boredom.

When people I knew brought up the subject of me returning to work, it was always in a negative tone, as if I was diagnosed with some awful terminal disease, known as "working mom."

Let me now clarify that I also LOVE my job.  Follow me around for a day, and you'd see what I mean when I say that every day is different!  Every day is new!  Finally, my brain is stimulated with literature and art instead of stifled by the endless drone of cartoons and kiddy books. 

But, alas, this cerebral stimulation comes with a price.  I now start my day at 5 am, get myself and two kids up, brushed and fed and out the door by 6.  My breaks at work are completely taken over by planning as I can't do any at home, and the household duties haven't disappeared.

In the end, this blog entry is really me thinking aloud about my current situation.  I can't say that I wouldn't stay home, or that work is my passion.  What I can say though, is that all the tedious, monotonous moments of life, work related, or home related, can't compare to the car ride I took to work this morning.

An Open Letter to Clinique Belle Rive...

Dear patients/nurses/doctors at Clinique Belle Rive,

I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for the insanity that was my children this morning at Parker's annual check-up.  It is not like my children to be such devils...oh who am I kidding, it is, but let me explain.  First, I am aware that bringing two toddlers to the clinic is madness.  I am also aware that the madness was compounded by the fact that Parker was to receive his one year vaccinations.  But, in my defense, how could I have known that Hunter would try to win the "screaming competition" that Parker started when the first needle broke his skin?  How could I have anticipated Hunter's ascent onto the examination table only to scream that he was "falling!falling!" while the doctor and I had our hands full with Parker?  I don't normally entertain the thought of adoption, but I must say, it did cross my mind when Hunter hit me in the leg while screaming after being given the wrong Disney face mask.  I would also like to apologize to all of the separate doctors in the clinic for having to lock their doors after my kids systematically opened all of them while I tried to get to them.  I am, after all, only one person, and they formed a team and split the debauchery between them and went in different directions. 

sincerely,

Anxiety attack-ed.

Finding the words

My mind has been a mess lately.  I sometimes get these intense urges to write, but find myself playing out the words in my head, scribbling on an imaginary paper.  The thoughts come to me, fervently, almost prophetically, but for some reason, I find it impossible to get them out coherently.  When the words do touch reality, they seem disconnected and vulgar.  The experience can only be likened to that of explaining one's frighteningly realistic dream to someone, only to realize that the dream itself made no sense. 

I think that I am unconsciously self-censoring. 

The world is so....twisted, and I can't understand why doing the "right thing" is so difficult in so many situations.  If not by fate, I came across a definition today in "The Devil's Dictionary" by Ambrose Bierce, and though the book itself was meant to be satirical, I found the frankness of it to be quite, refreshing.

"Responsibility: A detachable burden easily shifted to the shoulders of God, Fate, Fortune, Luck or one's neighbor."

Fortune does not dictate our fate, but rather, we are the architects of our own destiny.  The world is cyclical.  I am who I am because of my parents.  Both their faults and their blessings have been gifts to me, and thus, my faults and my blessings will shape my own children.  I understand that all situations are not equal, and that my perception of "faults" and "blessings" is biased, but ultimately the world has a shape and we must all live within it.  We cannot expect our children to use our failings as parents to better themselves with as adults.  It is our responsibility to give them ALL that we can, if not physically, then spiritually (and by spiritually, I mean nurturing their secular spirit). 

We are the Gaia (sp?) of their center.  We give them strength, and independence and the ability to love.  We give them the power to say no, to stand tall, and to feel self worth.  OUR lives are THEIR lives until they can make their own.  We are their reality and we must make sure that it makes sense.

There, I said it.  No more censoring. 

(I get my boldness from my father, and my timidity from my mother.  Aren't we all just the product of an oxymoron...)

Life is Good

Wow.  First off, let me apologize for my absence from the blog world, I've been a little busy!  Pete saved his paternity leave for now and he's taken a month off from work.  Needless to say, we've been moving and running all over the place and I haven't had the time to sit and think about a blog entry lately. 
I haven't got anything particularly insightful to say tonight, but I've definitely got a few pictures to share with you.  Bear with me on this one, and I swear I'll have something a little deeper for you in a few days after my girls night out! 

First off, my niece Mia turned three on July 7th and we had a little party here for her birthday.  The kids love playing together and I planned ahead and bought some face paints to keep the kids entertained on the day of her party.  Mia decided to be a butterfly, Hunter a pirate and I took it upon myself to give Parker little cat whiskers and ears.  They had a blast and the face paints wore off before we could even take a decent picture of them. 

I'll just have to take out the paints at Parker's birthday next week and try to get a picture of the kids again!

Later that week we took a little family trip to Exporail, the train museum in St Constant.  Hunter couldn't get enough of the larger than life engines and even Parker seemed in awe of their size.  Exporail has got to be one of the best places to take your kids, and we go every year.  Walking through the maze of over sized trains never gets old by the end of the day the kids are exhausted and elated.

Guess trains really are in our blood...

The last wonderful diversion from life we've taken on Pete's extended vacation was a quick trip to Lake George, NY.  Lake George is probably one of the best memories I have as a child.  My parents used to take us all the time as kids, and I remember staying in rickety old cabins tossing all night in anticipation of the next day's activities.  This time, we had the pleasure of being the parents and watching our kids delight in the fun that is Lake George.  There's just something about road tripping it with your kids, sleeping as a family in a huge king size bed and spending the day on the boardwalk eating ice cream and swimming at the beach that makes a summer a GREAT summer.  This has got to be a veritable shangri la of family trips.  The scenery of the Adirondacks is breathtaking and the possibilities for fun are endless (not to mention affordable). 

Well folks, it's late and I'm beat.  The vacation isn't over yet, and I've got a spa day planned for tomorrow.  Here's to some much needed sleep and a good, long massage.  Solo.

I promise to check back in soon, with something deep, meaningful, or perhaps a little funny.  Can't promise which direction it'll go in, but I can promise that it wont be dark, these days, life is good.

Grounded

Every Friday the neighbour and I take our kids to the local pool so they can wade in the warm salt water for an hour or so while we chat.  In anticipation of our weekly pool visit I went to Canadian Tire to buy a swim aid for Hunter based on a recommendation from my friend Mel called a puddle jumper.  Mel's son Alex has been using his puddle jumper since last year and is real pro in the pool, jumping in and swimming independently without any help from his mum. 

Everything went well at first.  Hunter chose his own colour, talked about it until he went to bed, and went to find it as soon as he woke up in the morning.  When we were getting in the car to go to the pool he insisted that the puddle jumper sit in the back seat with him and he carried it into the change room, eager to get it on.  He loved wading in the water and played quietly until I suggested we go into the deep end to try out his new "toy." 

Finally, after a couple of minutes of hesitation, I decided to let him go....I've never heard a kid scream like that for absolutely no reason in my life!  He was terrified.  He screamed and grasped at my arms and shoulders, clinging to my body like he was going to die if he let go.  I tried to get him to ease up, but he wasn't having it.  I managed to get him to take my hands and I pulled him around the deep end, while I let go of one hand at a time.  He smiled a little, but when I let go of both hands, he screamed again and I had to take him back to the shallow end.

Sometimes I find it extremely difficult to think like a toddler.  Even after I'd explained to him a thousand times that he couldn't fall, that he'd float with the puddle jumper on, and after he'd been out of my arms and had experienced the floating himself, he still screamed and almost made himself sick with fear.  I learned later in the hour that he HAS to have his feet on the ground at all times in the pool, unless he's in your arms. 

We'll try the puddle jumper again next Friday.  I'm hopeful that he'll feel confident in it soon!

Number 20

I get these emails from different parenting websites everyday.  For the most part they are about my children's current expected milestones and other tidbits of information.  Sometimes I actually read them and start to click on the various stories and links, falling deep down into the parenting article rabbit hole.  Today I came across another disturbing one that listed the 20 reasons why someone should not have children and the 10 reasons why someone should. 

Immediately I thought it was interesting that this author couldn't find a balance of reasons, if only for appearances sake, and proceeded to read the entire article.  I wont get into them, they were your typical arguments, the ones even the best moms and dads gripe about in their facebook profiles, like not having any free time, or the ability to be spontaneous.  However, it was number 20 that really struck me as being the most naive.

Reason number 20 not to have children was DEATH.  The author argued that the ever present danger that someone may have a child and that that child may die before it's time is reason enough to never have one in the first place.  That never to have loved at all is better to have loved and lost. 

It is naivety like this that makes me question the human heart.  Is it possible that someone could actually think this way?  And so much so that they would market it as good advice? 

Every moment spent with my loved ones, especially my children, makes my life richer, and more fulfilled.  Sure, I have bad days.  Heck, today was one of them.  But the love I feel for Hunter and Parker transcends any love I've ever felt.  I would gladly lay down my life for them, and if God sees fit to take one of them from me before their time, I'll curse and I'll falter and I'll die.  But every tiny moment I've spent with them would have been worth it. 

Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever heard a parent say in a time of tragedy, "I wish I'd never had them, for right now my pain would be less."