To Paisley: 38 Months Old

I am nearly 35 weeks pregnant now and so I am very aware, with every twinge, that our family of three will soon become a family of four. I am excited to meet this baby and start the next chapter of my life but I am finding the concept to be bittersweet. I have loved this time I've had with you - just you and me. We spend every waking (and many half-waking, should-be-sleeping) hour together and you really are my best little friend. I feel so lucky to have had so much time with you - to get to know you, to laugh with you, to watch you grow and cheer you on. I love hanging out with you and even now, I look forward to seeing your face every morning. It is still the best part of my day.


You are three years old and 2 months now. You are getting so big and in the last 6 months in particular, have become very capable. You are obsessed with being a "big girl" and doing everything by yourself. You dress yourself, are fully potty-trained, clean your room (when asked of course!), feed yourself, read to yourself, sign-out books at the library, play by yourself and put your coat and shoes on by yourself. You remind me ten times a day how tall/big/grown up you are and each time I am both proud and sad. I enjoy seeing you conquer the world around you and I love watching you develop your independence but it's all happening too fast for me.


You are so funny Paisley! You are a truly joyful little girl who starts every day with a smile and finishes it with a quip. You understand the subtleties of humour and have excellent timing. You are a very good conversationalist and can hold your own with any adult in the room. You are quick, and clever and delightful. I love hearing your observations and your stream of consciousness prattle ("The baby is jumping in your tummy? I can jump like this Boing! Boing! Rabbits jump too. And so do kangaroos. Rabbits eat carrots. What do kangaroos eat?") and even though it sometimes goes on for minutes without you apparently needing oxygen, I never tire of it. It makes me laugh. You make me laugh. The good thing is that you seem to think I'm pretty funny too and that means we have a lot of good times together.

We have a very busy life and you seem to like it that way. We are up and out to the Y most mornings where you either go to the babysitting to play with all your friends, go to swimming lessons or to your sports class. You love going to your classes and were so chuffed when you turned three and all your classes became unparented. "No Mommies! Just me, my friends and my teacher, right Mom?" you would repeatedly confirm with glee. The first day of sports class, I dropped you off and watched you run into the gym, wearing your new pink high-tops, and I thought I had brought you to the wrong class. These kids were so BIG. Then I realized you fit right in and much to my surprise, I started to cry. I never thought I would be that Mom and all of a sudden, I was. Motherhood is simultaneously the most wonderful and gut-wrenching thing I have ever done.


Most afternoons are spent on play dates with friends, or going for a walk or doing crafts together. As a sidebar, I hate doing crafts. I try, I really do but I am not the inspired Mom who has a huge box of supplies and a million ideas of how to turn toilet-paper-rolls into Princess castles. When prompted I usually give you a crayon, a glue stick and some paper and tell you to rip it up and stick it all together. Feel free to blame me if you never get accepted to art school. You really enjoy it though so I recently signed you up for a craft class at the Y. Know your weaknesses and then employ someone to compensate for them - that's what I say.

You look forward to Friday nights all week and ask almost every day "Is tonight Family Night?" On Family Night we play games and your absolute favourite is charades. You pretend to be an animal or a feeling or a thing and your Dad and I take turns guessing. Sometimes we pull the coffee table off the area rug and it becomes a stage for you to dance on. We play Candyland or Red Dog, Blue Dog. You just love it and we love it too. You know that dad doesn't work on the weekends and will exclaim on Saturday morning (once you have confirmed with me that it is indeed Saturday) that "Dad! You don't have to work today!"


You also spend quite a lot of time with your Grandma and Grandpa. About once a week we head out to Okotoks and you sometimes even stay the night. You play with Grandpa in the hot tub or go for a walk with Grandma. You are so comfortable there and I love watching the three of you together. When I grew up I didn't have my grandparents nearby. Although I loved them very much and was really close to my Grandma, I never had the familiarity with them that you do. I feel so lucky to have them in my life and I know you do too. They love you so much Paisley.


You are very excited to meet this baby. As of late (and who can really blame you) you have started to get inpatient. "This baby is taking a long time to come Mom!" You're right - it's a long wait. With every passing day, my belly gets bigger and I get more tired and more fed up with the whole thing. But every time I think "Ugh, I just wish this baby would come!" I stop myself and remind myself to hold on to what I have. To this amazing little girl who has given me more joy and love and hope than I ever thought possible and to the fleeting days I have left being a mother to just her. I am so very lucky.


Love,
Mama

Fat & Fitness

It seems like every day I hear something about obesity. The newspapers are full of interviews with alarmed statisticians and staggering numbers. I've heard interviews (in the past week alone) with fat people, former fat people, doctors, nurses, urban planners and health advocates, all pontificating on how we got here and how we are going to fix it. Naturally it is something I think about a lot and something that really concerns me.

When I was pregnant with Paisley I gained a lot of weight. This was the first time in my life where I had ever really struggled with my weight. After she was born I was left with an entirely different body - an unfamiliar visitor that left me feeling awful. I felt like the inside no longer matched the outside and that people looked at me differently. There were all kinds of reasons why I put on the weight and although the diabetes didn't help, it was ultimately because I had consumed more calories than I expended. I realize the relationship isn't always so linear, and that the more we learn about our fat metabolism and obesity, the more complicated it gets, but still, you can't escape the fact that if you take in less calories than you burn, you won't continue to gain weight.

I started getting fit. I watched the pounds drop off and made friends at the local YMCA. I gained muscle tone and energy and enthusiasm for life. I looked better, I felt better and I was discovering a whole new me. At some point I passed over to evangelism. This happens to people. You discover running, or fitness, and you can't believe how it changes your life. You start to feel like if everyone could discover what you have discovered, they would feel this way too. It becomes a solution to everything you see around you - depression, obesity, heart disease, fad diets and low self-esteem. You start to see it as a cure-all and the people around you start to feel annoyed. :)

Here's the thing though. Exercise is a cure-all. That's not saying everyone likes it. I've come to realize that maybe some people will never feel the rush I feel after a good run (although part of me still insists with consistent effort over a long period of time it will happen) but nobody can argue that the run won't do them any good. The human body is designed to move. Our metabolisms are based on certain energy outputs and evolved under conditions with way less food and far more movement than we have today.

This pregnancy has been so incredibly different from my first, and it is all because of fitness. Losing the baby weight, getting healthy and then maintaining my routine throughout the pregnancy has left me feeling strong, energized and free. The baby of course is better off as well. I haven't gained nearly the weight I gained last time and I have no doubt the recovery will be easier, faster and more enjoyable as well. The only thing worse than being overweight was being pregnant and overweight.

Recognize that I am not talking about being skinny. I have a good friend who is super-fit and does Ironmans - she is incredibly strong and healthy. And she will never be skinny. It's not who she is or how she is built, but she (and her body) derives the benefits of fitness the same as anyone. I firmly believe that if I could snap my fingers and have everyone in the world experience feeling truly fit for one week, nobody would ever go back. It's the getting there that is so tough.

Across the world (or at least across the Western hemisphere) people are looking for an answer to obesity. If I could find that one motivator that would work for people, to push them over the edge into changing their lifestyle I would be a billionaire. Several times over. I often wonder what makes some people get off the couch and 350 lbs and start running, while others (the majority to be fair) just stay there. Is it personality, environment, chemicals? Have they just not found their motivation yet or is it so much more complicated?

I understand that genetics, social groups, past hitory, urban planning, social economic status, culture, race and education all play into this. I get that it's not simple - but what makes some people hit that wall and make a change while others watch from the sidelines?

2011

Wow. Nearly 6 months since I last posted here. That's pretty lame. I have to admit that although blogging more regularly is one of my New Year's resolutions, I don't feel particularly inspired. I will give it a try for the next few weeks and see how it goes. As far as updates go, there are plenty!

1. We moved! In September we moved into Arbour Lake - a neighbourhood just 10 minutes down the road from where we were before. It's a real house with a garage and a backyard and so far, we love it. It fuelled a major existential crisis when we bought it (see #2) but so far we're enjoying it. I can walk with Paisley to the library, the YMCA and all the shops I could ever need. People are friendly and decorate their house for Halloween/Christmas etc. and there is a private lake 5 minutes away that has ice-fishing, skating, swimming, kayaking and scuba diving. Brian can walk to the train which means he has cut a bus out of his commute and although it isn't shorter, it is easier. We are really looking forward to the summer so we can enjoy the yard, have people over for BBQs and meet all the little kids around.

2. The decision to move was an ugly one. We knew we needed more space and wanted out of the condo. We had this idea of who we are as a family, and unfortunately it had a hard time holding up to reality. What we wanted was an inner city house within a short commute (or hey, walking distance!) from Brian's work. We wanted to not need a car and to have a local corner market and coffee shop. We wanted a stoop where we could sit and say hello to neighbours and a school nearby for when Paisley is older. The big problem was that we also didn't have $2 million in the bank. Sigh. So, that left us with the same urban dilemma that faces thousands of young families. Rent at an exorbitant rate (if we could even find what we wanted that is) close to the core, or move out to the burbs. After much analyzing, discussing and tears, we headed further out of the city. We felt like we were abandoning some principles along the way and that never feels very good but we also knew that we would benefit a lot from the things that the suburbs could offer us, like say, affordable housing.

3. When we bought the house, we knew it would need a new kitchen. The house isn't old and in fact the kitchen looked quite nice but there was no room for a kitchen table. Weird. A four-bedroom family home and you couldn't put a good-sized table anywhere. The house had been on the market for awhile and was already significantly less than the other house on the market so we went for it, on the condition that we would remodel the main level. Fast forward 3 months and you have a haggard couple on the verge of divorce in a half-finished kitchen, washing dishes in the upstairs bathroom, drowning in mounting debt and losing faith that life will ever get better. Fast forward to now and all is well. The kitchen is mostly done and while the bills are not yet paid, they are no longer growing. We managed to finish just before Christmas and are really happy with the results. The emotional scars will heal in time. Right?

4. I'm pregnant! We found out the same week we bought the house (elation!) and I had all kinds of complications the week we moved (stress!) but now everything seems perfect (trend?). The official due date is May 1st but due date has ceased to mean much. I have a bicornuate uterus, which essentially means that rather than having one big pear-shaped uterus, I have a heart-shaped uterus with two individual horns. I always knew this was the case but nobody had ever really made a big deal out of it. My doc thinks that having a baby may have made the condition more pronounced and now says it is the reason I had a hard time conceiving before Paisley was born, it's why she was born early and it's why this one will likely be early too. So - between that and the diabetes I will be having a baby sometime in late March to mid April. Let's hope no earlier. (Or god forbid, later.)

5. Paisley is nearly three and deserves her own post (more like 50 posts but let's get real), so I'll get on that. Short story is that she is awesome. Really funny, talking like crazy and the joy of my life.

6. I quit work. Again. From the time Paisley was about 6 months old until this summer I had been working part-time from home. I was writing for magazines and websites and newsletters and all sorts of things. I actually really enjoyed the work but not the schedule. I was getting up at 5:00am before Paisley awoke, writing for a few hours and then writing again during her naps or after she went to bed. To make matters worse, I would calculate my hours at the end of a long, exhausting, stressful week and find that I had put in 8 hours. All that stress for only 8 hours!? It just wasn't worth it. So, when the chance came to take a break over the summer I did. And I never looked back. I thought I would miss it but I don't. Not even a little bit.

7. Paisley is in a day home on Wednesdays and I am really enjoying having one day to myself. I love being a Mom but as she gets older it becomes harder on her to drag her around for errands and appointments. I have had a ton of appointments with this pregnancy and it didn't seem fair to take her with me all the time. So this way, I schedule everything for Wednesday's and she gets to play with her new little friends at the day home.

Ok, that's it for now. To anyone still optimistic enough to have me on their RSS feed, thank you. And wow, you're a really positive person.

A New Pair of Sex

Often in the mornings, Brian will bring Paisley into our bed if I am still asleep. Most days she proceeds to poke me, prod me, yell "Wake up Mama!" into my face and generally bug me until I get out of bed. On lucky days, she will lie beside me and cuddle with me for awhile. I wake slowly but happy to have her next to me. We chat, she kisses me and we sing or play little word games. Yesterday, Brian put her on his side of the bed and when I rolled over to look at her sweet angelic face, she said "I need some sex Mama."

Thinking I might still be half asleep and clearly mishearing her, I said: "What!?"

"I need some sex right now Mama!"

I didn't even know what to say. I was thinking to myself "How does she know what that is? Where did she hear that? What am I supposed to say to that!?"
Then she clarified. "Mama, my feet are like ice. I need some sex!"

Oh. Socks. No problem.

Low School

Facebook has reconnected me with a lot of old friends from high school. It's been nice to see how everyone is doing, but strange to see so many people who I still remember as teenagers, having babies of their own. I was happy to leave high school and Fort McMurray and anxious to start a new life somewhere else. In hind sight, I was probably too anxious. Sometimes I wish I had stayed more connected, kept friends a little longer and not been so quick to start fresh. I was looking through pictures tonight and so many people I went to school with are still friends and still hang out together. It made me feel a little sad - like maybe I was missing out on the only thing I have left of my teenage years.

It has also made me think a lot about the people we lost along the way. Friends who died or were killed or who made decisions that they never really recovered from. It made me think especially about the handful of people I knew who committed suicide. When we were in high school, everything mattered so much. Who you dated (or didn't), who you hung out with, what you wore, whether you were in band or drama or played sports. It was a lot of pressure and I don't think any of us really dealt all that well with it. I guess some of us were better at hiding it than others.

When I think of the young people who chose to end their life it makes me feel so sad. I felt sad at the time of course, but now, standing on the other side of things, the real sadness of those loses is greater, even if it is numbed by time. If only they could have hung on a little longer, the things that seemed so bad would have become bearable, and eventually, laughable. Now, nearly 15 years later, the cool crowd doesn't exist anymore - we are all just people with partners, and jobs and kids. Nobody cares what you wore, or what bands you listened to or whether you were cool. The cliques merged long ago and the embarrassing moments have been forgotten. The heartbreaking words, "slut", "loser", "fag" have lost some of their power and we are all a little kinder and wiser. They were so close to making it out, out into the real worlds, into their lives full of opportunity and the potential to become what they wanted. The girlfriends they thought were worth dying for would have become nothing more than a school crush and the agony of not belonging might have fueled a life full of compassion and promise.

I wish so badly that I could go back and tell them to keep going. I wish I could go back and tell myself that it wasn't so bad. I think of so many of the people I went to school with and most of them (even the ones often underestimated) have done well for themselves and are off living their lives. I have not forgotten those who are not.

Here Today, Blog Tomorrow...

I miss my blog. I miss the feeling I get when writing a post - like all my thoughts are pouring out onto the computer, leaving me cleansed and at peace. I miss the rush that would come when I hit the publish button. The sense of connection that came with each comment. I have written for many reasons over the years; to share adventures with loved ones far away, to work through muddled thoughts that weren't made clear until they were organized into words, and to entertain. I have written to record time and leave memories for myself and for Paisley and to gain insight from other web dwellers on a particular topic. For years now this blog has been an extension of myself.

Lately, I have not been writing. I have excused myself, rationalized and apologized. I have felt guilty and pressured. Tonight I am sitting here thinking, "Why?" Does my lack of blogging mean something more than I want it to? Does it reflect my quieter, far less dramatic life? Am I unable to appreciate the little humours and gifts that parenthood brings or unable to weave them into stories worth hearing?

I think the truth is that I am happier than I have ever been. Much of my writing over the years has been fueled by guilt or angst - or more often, both. I have felt compelled to write to fill some void, to address a hollowness that never left. When I think of myself not writing I feel ashamed. I know it is who I am and what I am "meant" to do and so when I am silent, I am failing. While this is still true, I feel okay about that now. Not okay about failing but okay about just being. I write every single day for work and I love it. I take pictures and sing songs and spend every waking hour with Paisley, making memories. I am proud of who I am, excited about my growing business, optimistic about life and my future, healthy, inspired and peaceful.

I no longer fear an empty page.

Weak but Detectible...

If this blog showed up in the emergency room doorway, it would most likely be pronounced dead on arrival. No pulse, no life, no activity. I am sad to say that I myself may have even agreed until recently. But now, now I am determined to keep this thing alive. Why? I don’t really know. Maybe as a self-serving outlet for my own ramblings, maybe in an attempt to stay connected with the handful of readers still hanging on. Either way, I’m here.

We’ve got a pulse.

Vegas!

I had two main objectives when I booked our trip to Vegas. Most important was spending time with Brian. Uninterrupted, having fun, adult time. The second was to go shopping. I am happy to report that both objectives were met with fervour.



I had never been to Vegas and so I am really happy I got the chance to see it. We know a lot of people around here who make Vegas a yearly event and while I enjoyed my time there, I wouldn't rush back. I probably should have realized, when the top five attractions I wanted to see looked like this:

1. Human Bodies Exhibit
2. Atomic Energy Museum
3. Bauman's Rare and Antique Books
4. The Titanic Exhibit
5. IMAX

that Vegas might not be my place. I'm a nerd and I need to just embrace it.

Having said that, we had a wonderful time. We ate at a buffet, walked the strip, lost all our money at the roulette tables, shopped till we dropped, lazed at the pool, drank Starbucks like there was no tomorrow and most importantly, rekindled a friendship that needed some attention.



Our lives of late have turned into a bit of a treadmill. Brian's schedule means he doesn't get home until late and then we have dinner and put Paisley to bed. By the time she is down and the kitchen is tidied, we are almost ready for bed ourselves. We live very different lives throughout the day and although we try to stay connected and relaxed, it isn't always easy. Going on this trip was a great break from our every day lives and I loved holding hands with Brian and having conversations unconfined by nap time and tantrums. We laughed and drank tall margaritas and it was romantic and wonderful.



As we flew home I was sad to leave but it was nice to know that I was coming home to the most beautiful little girl in the world. Despite my significant lack of casino dollars, I'm a very lucky lady.

To Paisley: Twenty Months Old

As I write this, you are upstairs sleeping and I am using this quiet time to organize myself for an upcoming trip. Your Dad and I are going to Vegas in a few days and will be leaving you for the first time ever. At night, when it is dark and I am trying to fall asleep, bad thoughts enter my head. I don't want to leave you. I am terrified that something will happen to us and that I will never see you again. In the morning, I feel better and am excited to spend some time alone with your Dad in a place I have never been. Your Dad and I have always traveled - a passion for going to new places is what drew us together, kept us together, and we hope, will always be a part of our lives. It is easy to fall into the trap of never leaving your baby and I know (at least intellectually) that making sure our marriage is healthy is also a gift for you. But it all feels wrong. You are my family now and the idea of splitting that family up, even for a few days, has left me feeling nauseous. I am going to do this and I know that you will be okay with your Grandma and Grandpa, and that in a very short time we will be back together but man am I going to miss you.



This past month we had the first ever McGrath family reunion. My Mum's siblings all got together in honour of her upcoming 60th birthday and we had a blast. Seeing my Mum with all of her brothers and sisters made me realize, once again, how lucky we are. You are loved by so many, in so many countries! When I was growing up, I didn't have any Uncles, Aunts or Grandparents nearby. As immigrants, my parents had left their people behind in order to start a new life and give their kids the best they could. It was a sacrifice for them and one that I think I am only really beginning to understand. Seeing you with my parents and brothers, and recently, the extended family, made me realize how much my own Mum missed out on and I'm glad that this time, you get the best of both worlds.



This fall has been one of the most beautiful I have ever experienced and we have done our best to enjoy it every day. A few weeks ago you, your Dad and I all went for a long Sunday walk down by the Bow river. The sun was shining, the leaves were turning yellow and the smell of fall was in the air. Your Dad and I have done a lot of talking about what we want your childhood to look like, and on that day we discussed Sundays and what they would bring. For both your Dad and I, Sundays always meant church. For you that won't be the case but we want to make sure that there is still time for reflection and wonder and quiet conversation. As atheists (and scientists), the natural world holds a lot of wonder for your Dad and me. That awe is something we want to pass on to you as you grow and so far, you've been more than receptive.



As we walked along under the warm sun, you started to lag behind. Eventually, your Dad crouched down and called you. You stopped, turned, beamed and came running towards him. Your face was dirty but happy, your hair crazy and golden. As you ran into your father's arms and hugged him I watched tears rolling down his face. Being with you makes us so happy Paisley.



You are a happy kid and always have been but I have to admit that lately, you're whiny. It's partly due to your molars coming through and also probably your age. It can be grating at the best of times and by 6:00 in the evening, it can be unbearable. I try so hard to be patient and you do your best to be your best, even when you don't feel well. If I get down on the floor and out out my arms you will hug me, and kiss me and finish off with an Eskimo kiss. A politically incorrect but adorable new discovery. You laugh and play and love to be tickled. You have a new little baby that you push around in a stroller and sometimes, you even share your snack with her. You are kind and funny and love, love, love books. You are talking even more these days and learning new tricks at lightening speed. You are in swimming lessons and Kindermusik and you love to jump and dance. You are the joy in my life and even when I feel like I'm going to go crazy from having to clean the floor for the fifth time in a day or from the high-pitched yelling you've mastered, I am able to stop, look you in the face and fall in love all over again.





Love,
Mama

Weighty Issues

I read this article lately and my immediate reaction was to call bullshit. I do not believe for one second that the rising rates of obesity can be blamed on genetics, and furthermore I am getting frustrated with the slow but steady normalization of fat that is happening in North America. I don't mean to be disrespectful to those who are overweight and feel sympathy for them - it is not easy to lose weight. I recognize that there are many emotional, psychological and yes, even genetic, reasons for obesity but at the end of the day, you get fat from taking in more calories than you burn.

Different people burn calories at different rates and with different levels of efficiency. People have different metabolic rates and a wide variety of intestinal flora and bacteria that can all affect how your body deals with additional calories. That being said, it is a basic law of physics that energy must be conserved. It can change forms, which is what happens when people store energy as fat, but it cannot be created. More energy in than out means you put on weight. In order to prevent this, you need to do the opposite, end of story.

I don't believe that people who are overweight or obese should be judged or treated poorly. They are people, just like anyone else and deserve the same respect. At the same time, being overweight or obese is unhealthy and I fear that this fact is being lost in all the attempts being made by society to "accept" overweight people. I am constantly seeing young girls proudly baring their overhanging midriffs and are shocked that they would be proud (and if not proud, accepting enough to show it off) of their excess weight. When did it become cool to be fat!?

I see fat kids all the time who are facing a life of inactivity, low self esteem, high blood pressure, diabetes, heart disease and stroke, and premature death. This generation is the first generation of young people who may die at an earlier age than their parents because of the epidemic of obesity. Kids have never eaten so badly and done so little physical activity and it is making them sick. It makes me feel sick too.

We need to help young people feel good about themselves, regardless of their weight, but we must not teach them to accept being overweight. It's not okay. It is not okay for them or their lives or their own kids for them to be obese. It isn't okay for any of us to be obese.

There are many reasons why we have gotten here and there are racial issues at play and big food companies and issues of poverty and education and socioeconomic class. I understand the problems with urban design and parental fear and the trouble with an overabundance of low cost, high calorie food. I know that corn is heavily subsidized and that certain people have a propensity towards being heavier. But, at the end of the day, people need to be accountable for the choices they make (and kids need to be protected from the choices their parents make) and accept responsibility for the calories they take in and the the calories they should, but do not, expend.

The Newsweek article is concerning as it perpetuates a growing myth of fiction over fat.

Another Brick in the Wall?

I'm glad Paisley is only 19 months old because at this rate it's going to take me years to figure out what we are going to do about school. We have discussed the idea of home schooling Paisley and are pretty torn about it. Home schooling is such a touchy subject and one that seems to really divide people. I can't tell you how many times I've heard people make comments like "They're weird that family. I mean, they home school even!" as though homeschooling is the ultimate evidence of weirdness. At the same time, I know where that comes from and although it is changing, there is definitely a history of weird people keeping their kids home to make sure they stay weird.

Home schooling is on the rise in North America and interestingly, the two main groups who seem to be opting out of public education are religious people and those who are highly educated. There are more and more programs and resources available for parents who choose to home school and the term itself is becoming a misnomer as education is happening less at home and more in the community, museums, parks and public facilities than ever before.

I feel torn for many reasons. When I think of kids being kept away from ideas that challenge their beliefs or values I feel angry. I feel that keeping your kids home to indoctrinate them with ideas about creationism or homophobia is not only irresponsible, it is wrong. All people should have their ideas challenged from time to time and if you are allowed to withdraw from the world, that cannot happen. At the same time, I recognize that schools do their own kind of indoctrination as far as behaviour modification and curriculum go. You become part of a system when you start school and that is what we are reluctant to accept. We want Paisley to learn things at her own pace and in a way that feeds her curiosity and love of life. I don't want her being told to sit still at a desk when she is only 6 or 7, I don't want her to have to do worksheets when she could be outside exploring and creating. I want her to sleep in if she is particularly tired and to take a break if she is frustrated. Many of those things are not available in the school system as it exists today.

Having said that, I recognize that teachers are trained and educated in their field and I am not. Teachers do more than just study their chosen subject - they learn about educational methods and approaches and often have a solid background in the psychology of learning. As kids get older they have debates in the classroom where ideas are shared and challenged and discussed. For this reason we would never keep Paisley home from school for longer than a few years. What we are considering is keeping her home until grade three. I strongly feel that 5 or 6 is far too young to be going to school and am confident that I could do a better job of establishing a love of learning here at home. I do think though that there should be some necessary training for parents who want to teach at home. Even if it only a 6 month course - something to ensure that people are qualified and prepared for the challenge. Having said that, I am grateful that the option of home schooling even exists for us.

There is a fine line however between educational flexibility and chaos. While I am not a believer in standardized testing I also recognize that some measurement is necessary. If you want to go to University you need to show that you have mastered certain skills. In my opinion, you should not be allowed to claim that you have passed Bio 30 if you don't believe in evolution. In the same way that you should not be able to pass physics and deny the existence of gravity.

Living in Alberta means we also have the option of charter schools. These publicly funded schools offer a variety of different approaches like Montessori and Waldorf schools. I have no doubt that as Paisley gets older and we prepare to transition her into the system that we will find a school (either private or public) that meets her needs. In the meantime I listen and research and follow the issues facing education in the province and struggle with what is best for Paisley and how I feel about the subject more generally.

I'm sure this won't be my last post on the subject so stay tuned! :)

The Girls of Summer

To Paisley: 19 Months

Rather than write another post this month I decided to let you speak for yourself, in your own words:

Harper Needs to be Extradited Back to Hell

I can't believe this and this, and hey, how about this?! The Harper government is without a doubt, the sneakiest most mean-tempered government I've ever not voted for. I couldn't believe they were even appealing the Omar Khadr judgement the first time, now they are taking it to the supreme court? And in case that isn't bad enough they are sneaking around trying to change the humanitarian and foreign affairs culture/climate to better suit their twisted view of citizenship? Why are people not up in arms? Why are the media outlets not running this as the top political story? Who cares about Jack Layton's moustache - Harper is damaging Canada's reputation and endangering our commitment to humanitarian law. I seriously can't believe this jerk is our prime minister.

Yowzaa!

This is my eyelash curler with half of my eyelashes still in it. I slipped while curling and let me tell you, it hurts. And now my eyelid is half bald.


There is nothing so agonizing to the fine skin of vanity as the application of a rough truth. ~Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton

Naked

I have never really been shy when it comes to being nude. As a child I loved being naked and even as a teenager would often wander around in my undies (much to my brothers' horror). It didn't take me long however to realize that many people, particularly in North America, did not share my level of comfort with exposed flesh. By high school I understood that one could only really be naked in the privacy of their own home. One of the girls who I went to school with used to shower naked after gym and everyone made fun of her. Secretly I envied her apparent obliviousness to the social rules.

Now I'm that lady at the gym who showers naked, as the young teenage girls go to ridiculous lengths to hide themselves. It took a bath house in Korea to re-awaken my comfort with public nudity and I've never looked back. (Never look back when naked in public - it makes people nervous.) I've also noticed that the same comfort with nakedness that existed in Korea is extended here among the Asian population. Usually the only naked people in the showers at the Y are me, and all the Asian immigrants. White people have waaay too many hang ups.

In a mildly related note, I was showering last week when a dozen 6-year-old day campers were ordered to stand in line right in front of me. There I was, vulnerable and exposed with 24 little eyes staring at me. And the weird part was, because none of those eyes belonged to MY kid, I felt blissfully, peacefully alone. How things change.

To Paisley: 18 Months Old

One and a half!? How did we get here? Some days I can't believe how quickly this has all gone but for you it must feel like a lifetime. Ha! Ha!

Okay, seriously. You are getting so big and as much as I hate to admit it, you are no longer a baby. You can run now and turn on the lights and are starting to talk. You point to kids younger than you and say "bay-beee" with delight. Every time you do it I am filled with a mix of delight and sadness. I am in awe that I get to watch you learn to label things and make sounds that actually mean something. I am sad because even you recognize that somehow, you are different from those tiny, dependent creatures.



The past few months have been full of walks, swimming, and sliding. Oh the sliding. There is a big yellow twirly slide just behind our house and it holds an allure for you that even the strongest distractions cannot break. The minute you get out the door, you head for the slide. You climb the ladder without fear and go down on your tummy, feet first. And then you want to do it again. "Again" unfortunately, is not yet a word. It is a squeal with intonation. Something like "Aaa-yiiii" which has become the soundtrack to my life. You love life, and being thrown and swinging around and being tickled and being sung too and being hugged and I will accommodate you and do those things again, and again.



You went to the Stampede for the first time this year and loved it. You loved the animals and the Superdogs and of course, the rides. You are such a brave little kid - even though you are so little, you loved the big slides and the merry-go-round and I loved only having to pay two tickets. You got on stage with all the other little kids and danced to Splash 'n Boots and your Dad and I watched and laughed and kept the camera rolling. (The term "rolling" comes from the olden days when video cameras actually had tapes in them.) Living in Calgary, the Stampede is likely something you will do every year. I am so excited to watch you grow and discover new things and have so much fun at such a ridiculously over the top place.



Your words are coming rapidly now and we are always so amazed at your ability to mimic. Until recently it took ages for you to earn a word and now you can repeat things you've only heard once. Like "antidisestablishmentarianism" or "kiwi". You like to make us laugh and you do it very well. You know that blinking your eyes like a cracked-out owl will do the trick. So does howling like a wolf or making fish faces. You enjoy nothing more than sitting in your highchair and performing a one-woman dinner show for your Mom and Dad and you always get an encore. We don't really follow the "laughing will only encourage her" philosophy, because feeling funny is good and kiddo, you are a riot.



You are so social and love being around people a lot. You seem to be at your best when there are a lot of people around. You prefer that they all be giving you their undivided attention, and they usually are. You say "Hi!" to everyone we pass in the store or on the street and I love it because I do the same thing. Your Dad always gets a bit embarrassed by the way I go out of my way to greet complete strangers. Now we can tag team the world and brighten everyone's day - one "Hi!" at a time.



I remember when you were first born, how much my shoulders hurt from carrying you around all the time. Although you didn't weight much, the constant added weight was a painful adjustment but one I eventually made. Since then I have carried you around a lot. We don't use the stroller very often and I let you walk as much as possible but I also hold you and carry you every day. Now that you are getting older, and heavier I can't believe that I ever had sore muscles from that little baby. I also know that soon, those "carrying" muscles will start to atrophy and that my body will make another adjustment - one of being a mother to a child, and not a baby. This idea makes me feel sad and nostalgic - how is it that having you has made me feel so strong and at the same time, so very weak?

Love,
Mama

Juggling. Badly.

I've never set out to be an overachiever or a supermom but I do have high expectations of myself and like to stay busy. I'm good at multi tasking and time management and so I manage to always have a clean house and a home cooked meal and a (fairly) clean kid. Sometimes I am almost embarrassed to tell people what I've been up to because I see the look on their face. "Oh. You're one of those." Well, I'm not. Not on the inside anyway.

Lately I feel like I have a hundred things on the go and I can't satisfy myself with my performance in any area. I can't do everything. I have been making an effort to do mostly whole foods cooking. We got rid of all processed foods quite a while ago but I sometimes still used store bought pasta or flavoured yogourt. Now I'm flavouring the yogourt, making everything from scratch and as of next week, making our bread. I'm even planning on canning homemade ketchup and salsa. I love it and it has produced some amazing meals (and one curdled lemon tart) but it is very time-consuming and gets eaten just as quickly as the stuff that took me half the time.

I am working out like a fiend and have lost ten pounds in the last month. I am in a bootcamp on Mondays, a BOSU class on Thursdays and working out 4 days a week plus running. I love this also and can honestly say that I don't think I have been this fit since high school.

I am working a lot. I have a magazine article on the go right now (affiliate marketing...snooze), a dozen press releases and a whole website to write. I am running two blogs and trying to get some fiction work and other freelance work squeezed in there and I'm struggling. I am also now on the marketing committee for the Africa Book Project and have a ton of work through them. I (in my stupidity?) also signed up as the volunteer resume critic for the local Women's Immigration Society. This stuff alone could be a full time job.

I'm even behind in my reading of Infinite Jest - something that is supposed to a relaxing pursuit and I'm feeling stressed about it.

Getting together with girlfriends during the week and making sure that Paisley gets one fun activity (at least) a day are also high on my list of priorities but I feel like I'm starting to stumble around aimlessly, blinded and sagged by a heavy load. Each day something gives - I either don't get as much work done as I should, or the house doesn't get cleaned, or I don't get out or the dinner is lacklustre. I need to get to a place where I can just accept that and not feel like a failure every time. I have a to do list as long as my arm and not enough items lined out. Never enough lined out.

I have always thrived under stress and schedule and so I tend to place those on myself with rigour. Maybe I'll schedule in a deep breathing exercise once a day from 11:03 to 11:07 am. Perfect.

To Paisley: Sixteen/Seventeen Months Old

This is your first combined newsletter and I'm not planning on making it a regular event. The last couple of months have been so busy and hectic and by the time I sat down to write your 16 month post you were nearly 17 months old!


Now that it is summer you spend as much as time outdoors as you can. As soon as you see the door you start to point and scream and vibrate with excitement. Sort of like what I would do if I saw the New Kids walking down the street only without the shirt flinging. There are a ton of little kids in the neighbourhood and they love to play with "the baby". Your two best friends are Megan and Melissa. They are about 8 and will come to the door and ask if you can come out to play. I almost always say yes and then follow you as you run screaming past me and out the door. You are still too young to be left entirely on your own so I sort of linger around the outskirts. I don't want to dampen the kids' fun but I still need to watch you. This means I have become fast friends with all the kids too and we have long conversations about spy school and how dumb boys can be, all while you sit and throw rocks in the air. You have become a playground fixture and you love being with the big kids so much. I love watching you, and all of them, interacting. It brings back so many memories of my own fantasy-driven childhood and it makes me happy to see you so happy.

You are so much stronger physically now and much more sure of yourself. You will climb up, over, or under anything and can go down the slide by yourself too. You still love to dance as much as ever but have added some sweet arm waving and squat moves that, I hate to say this, remind me of the kids using the toilets in Korea. Your facial expressions are priceless and you make me laugh a hundred times a day with your funny faces. You are throwing tantrums now as well which despite their intent, also make me laugh. There is something about seeing a tiny person throw themselves on the ground and kick and scream that makes you chuckle. I try not to let you see me laugh but sometimes, when you do, you start to laugh too and then the two of us are sitting on the ground, your face streaked with tears, and we are laughing like two crazy people. Which I guess, we are.

You went on your first family hike in Banff and we all had a great time. We bought a special hiking back pack for you but true to form, you wanted to do it all yourself. My brothers both came from Edmonton for the hike and of course, Grandma and Grandpa. Once again it confirmed how lucky you are to have such a supportive, caring and fun family. We all have so many adventures coming our way.



You have progressed from taking everything out of where it should be to putting things away. This has been extremely helpful. Especially when Dad couldn't comb his hair before work because you had hidden every comb and brush in the house in the garbage can. Which is also where I found my iPod and asthma puffer and a few pairs of socks. Sometimes you are kind enough to put things away in our drawers. Fortunately your Dad and I have a trusting relationship, otherwise finding a handful of lipsticks in his bedside table might have been an issue.

You are talking all the time now and although I still don't really know what you are saying, I can tell it is very important. You have added hand gestures and intonation and sometimes get very frustrated when I don't understand you. You must think I'm so dumb. I can't wait until you start talking because I can tell you are going to have so much to say. What you don't know yet is that being at home for 17 months without another adult around has left me with even more to say. You are going to wish you never opened that door.


We've had a lot of adventures over the past eight weeks, and as always, I enjoy your company so much. You and I went to Edmonton for a few days and had a great time watching the ducks and playing on the slides and then Dad joined us and we took you to Hawrelak park. We both had so many fond memories of our own childhood's there - funny that neither of us remembered the inches of thick slime covering the picturesque pond. You went into the hot tub at Grandma and Grandpa's for the first time and went to the JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes where you were a big hit. You tried ice cream for the first time and then refused to eat anything for the whole next day - you just screamed and pointed at the freezer. How did someone raised on organic vegetables and whole foods develop such a taste for junk food? Come to think of it, maybe I just answered my own question.


In the past two weeks in particular I have noticed a big change in you. You are turning into such a kid...teeth, words, walking, pigtails. All these non-baby things and as much as I feel awed to watch it happen in front of my eyes, I feel a bit sad. I remember when I first had you I carried you everywhere and had such sore shoulders and arms as I worked muscles I had never used before. The pain soon stopped and I used those new baby muscles everyday. Now you are over 23 pounds and I don't carry you as much anymore. You want to open things yourself, close them yourself, brush your own teeth, eat by yourself, walk by yourself, climb the stairs on your own. All these things are good - it means you are becoming your own little person. At the same time I know that those muscles are atrophying and the days of me doing everything with you on my hip are over. I have already started to watch from the sidelines and I couldn't be more proud.


Love,
Mama

Eating Bon Bons...

The choice to stay at home with Paisley was an easy one for me. I always knew that if I could afford to do it, I would. Having said that, I totally recognize that not everyone can do it and that not everyone wants to. We are making some major financial sacrifices to do this and I personally am taking on a lot of risk. A recent remark by one of Alberta's politicians brought this issue of working mom versus stay at home mom back into the limelight, at least for a few days. There were all kinds of articles and editorials and commentaries on the subject. I found some of them asinine but most of them sat comfortably on a spectrum that almost any woman can identify with. I can see why some women go back to work. I can see why they might not feel fulfilled at home. I don't think those people are bad parents but it's not what I choose to do.

This subject is a contentious one and unlike so many other "parenting issues" it seems to remain bubbling beneath the surface. Women avoid the subject because it can create feelings of inadequacy, hurt and anger and because, for the most part, we are afraid of being judged or misunderstood. Each side of the debate is knee deep in misconceptions: working mothers are selfish and career focused, stay at home mothers are lazy or boring or we do a disservice to the feminist cause. Kids from daycare are better socialized, stay at home kids are more loved. None of this is true and the situation varies so much that it's difficult to draw any real conclusions. I have met some seriously sub-standard parents whose kids would probably benefit from day care. Parents who do nothing with their children except watch TV and push them out of the way or leave them in their crib for hours. I also happen to know of a few day cares where kids are left to their own devices and aren't monitored or challenged. A high quality environment is what kids deserve, whether it be at home or elsewhere.

Having said that, there is one thing I hear a lot that does bug me. "Oh, I wish I could do that but we can't afford it." "It must be nice to have a choice" etc. Now, if you are a single mother or someone who really needs two incomes to cover your basic necessities, fair enough. But the vast majority of women who say that to me are living in a huge house, with two cars and going on yearly tropical vacations. That is not struggling to survive. That is a choice. It is a choice to place the maintenance of a certain lifestyle over the opportunity to stay at home. I don't care that they choose that - it doesn't affect me. What annoys me is that they are unwilling to make the sacrifice but won't admit it. Not to me and probably not to themselves. Brian and I don't like having to choose between Drumheller and Kamloops for a summer vacation instead of Italy or France. We don't love living in a small townhouse with one vehicle and not a lot of spending money but we chose this. We felt it was more important for Paisley to have a parent at home than it was for us to have a big house and lots of money. Our choice isn't a popular one these days but it works for us.

Being a parent is hard and being a mother in 2009 in even harder. We have a lot of expectations placed on us (admittedly, a lot of them are self imposed) and some tough choices to make. It sometimes frustrates me that it is still the woman who has to make these choices and sacrifices. Nobody, not one person, asked Brian if he was taking parental leave when we were expecting Paisley. It's not something most people even consider. I am fortunate that I can work from home because it has made the choice and transition that much easier. I would still love to live in a world though where as many men stay at home as women. If nothing else I think stay at home parents would get the respect and credit they deserve.