There Are No Ordinary Moments

2008-07-22T18:03:00.001-07:00

GUEST BLOG

2008-06-28T14:50:00.005-07:00

My friend Anneli, posted a brilliant piece on her blog, Off The Coast of Kansas, the other day, and with her permission I'm re-posting it here. I hope it resounds with you as much as it did with me. Enjoy!

Recently I finished a Pulitzer Prize winning novel, Unless, by Canadian author Carol Shields.

The book is written in a first person narrative, a story told by Reta (Ree-tah) Winters. She is a mother to three nearly grown daughters, life-partner of Tom Winters, translator for a French feminist, and writer of a few comic light novels. And while Reta has a good life it starts to fall apart when her oldest daughter Norah drops out of school and turns up on a Toronto street corner, begging, and wearing a cardboard sign around her neck with GOODNESS written across it. Reta is trying to figure out what happened to her daughter, what should she do, and how to cope with life when it begins to fall back into the pre-Norah-disaster-routine.

Shields is an insightful writer. Being a native Brit, she is considered one of the top ten female English writers of all time. Guess who else in on that list? Yup, Jane Austen herself. One reviewer describes how Shields believes writing can be a redemptive force, and she is most concerned with writing in a way that can be redemptive to women.

Reading this book left me much to mull over. I don't want to spoil the story, but I need to give a brief overview in order to frame the thoughts that will follow. A key character in the story is Danielle Westerman, a (fictional) titan among the significant French feminists. Dr. Westerman believes that women at some point in their lives realize that they are truly powerless in a male dominated society and either deal with it or disintegrate. She believes that Norah has realized her powerlessness and has fallen into despair. Reta wonders if this is true, and it is a genuine fear she has for her other two teenage daughters. But why does Norah's sign say GOODNESS?

Reta decides to write a new novel, another beach read, and while her editor loves the goodness found in her lead female character he tells her that it is her lead male character that the book should revolve around. The editor wants the book rewritten. The editor says goodness is not enough, that the strong male on a strong search for identity is much more compelling to the market he wants to target. Tom, Norah's father, is the one who eventually discovers that a catastrophic event is what sent his daughter to a street corner. And I won't give that away, but it has nothing to do with powerlessness in a male dominated society.

But it has everything to do with evil, with tragedy, with - sin.

I have read many books about feminism, social structures, a bit of feminist theology, and will be reading more this summer. And while I freely admit that anger grants us incredible power, it can lead to destructive actions. I am wary of any worldview, any theology, any mission sourced in, above all, anger - therefore I am wary of angry feminism because I have dabbled in it myself.

Part of the phenomenal success of the show "Sex in the City" is that the lead female characters behaved just like a stereotypical cave-man males: having promiscuous sex, no desire to commit, totally self-centered, living like a career is more important than relationships or family - etc. A recent issue of Maclean's has the excellent article that catalyzed some of these thoughts (The Curse of Sex in the City). To even out the playing field women started acting like men. How - misogynistic Lindsey Lohan is quoted in the article saying that watching "Sex in the City" totally shaped how she views sex because the characters had sex with "whoever". And the whole terrible backlash of women-behaving-like-men-behaving-badly has backfired on women. Earlier this year I was reading Wendy Shalit's A Return to Modesty who writes that violence against women has not decreased at all with women declaring the right to essentially be a man, and are still entrenched in cycles of abuse, denigration and - wait for it - misogyny. Somebody needs to help poor Lindsey Lohan. And Brittney Spears. And...

Am I thankful for those early 1920's feminists, and even their 1960's sisters? Yes I am. I am very glad to be a woman in 2008 rather than in 1808, even though we sentimentalize the past because we grew up with the lovely novels of Montgomery, Alcott and Carol Ryrie Brink. However, liberation found in a false source isn't true liberation. I hate that women think the way to be a woman is to be a man. I hate that women think modesty, in spirit and apparel, is weak. I hate that there are women who can only make a living by selling their bodies. I hate that women think that marriage, family, and childbirth are a form of slavery and disgusting.

Women who believe these things are blind to the GOODNESS of being a woman.

Christianity is a strange faith, a strange worldview/religion because it speaks of weakness. Jesus is a strange savior. He allowed himself to be crucified, to suffer, to be humiliated, to die. And yet his suffering and death is exactly what raises him to a position of authority and honor in heaven. In Revelation we read that Jesus, pictured as a lamb, is the only one found worthy to judge and to open the book of life. Somehow his humility makes him powerful. Somehow his diminished glory (Philippines 2) reveals his love and his goodness. Jesus doesn't seize power, he gives it up. Jesus does not become a new Caesar, he embodies a suffering servant who washes feet and heals the wounds of his attackers.

How bizarre. And captivating. And good.

Of course this does not mean we condone injustice or abuse. But it does challenge a culture that says if you have been at a disadvantage you run to The State and demand equality. The State can not restore what has been broken by sin.

As Christians, as citizens, as men and women, as Americans, Canadians, Chinese - how do we model the servant nature of Christ and yet advocate for justice and truth? Perhaps one of the first things we do is speak of Goodness and Hope; to remember that it is Christ and not a government that can restore what has been robbed from us, and to never ever build our beliefs solely out of anger...no matter how much of a right to that anger we have.

THIS IS BLISS

2008-06-17T00:47:00.003-07:00

I sat in my living room today and surveyed the mess. I was holding my son, and he was sleeping with his head burrowed into my arm-pit and his hand was resting on my chest. I could have put him down in his crib so I could do my chores, but I loved holding him so much in that moment, that I couldn't bear to do it.

So I held him for his entire nap, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I am very aware of how short this baby time is. I already feel it flying by. Corwyn is growing and learning so fast. In ten years, I won't remember the messy living room, but I will remember the times spent cuddling my son when he was small enough to sleep in my arms.

I seriously have the greatest job in the world. There are occupational hazards however. We have Thrush. Again. Shit. (Sorry for the language Mom.)

IN THE GARDEN

2008-06-10T10:54:00.006-07:00

On Sunday, we skipped church and spent some time getting our hands dirty in God's good earth. We planted peas, carrots, pumkins, squash, cucumbers and many sunflowers. We'll be planting lettuce, tomatoes and other veggies from seedlings. It was a glorious day.

My husband has a passion for finding free stuff. His obsession has mainly focused on firewood, but recently, as we've been gardening, it's also been directed towards good dirt. He scored on Monday, and I woke up to see this:

That, folks, is what 10 yards of dirt looks like in a dump truck. So, if you need a little dirt for your garden, we can help you out. Alternately, if you'd like a dump truck to deliver a full load of dirt to your own driveway, let me know. We now have the hook up.

LOVELY THINGS

2008-06-04T22:07:00.005-07:00

Very first shoulder rides:

Spending time with Great-Grampie:

Boys in plaid:

Happy faces in the sunshine:

THURSDAY WAS A GOOD DAY

2008-05-30T00:18:00.011-07:00

Thursday started out with a hang out with my wonderful friend MJ. She's about to move to Nova Scotia, so I'm not going to be seeing her for a while. MJ and I worked at Starbucks together, back in the day, and it was great to catch up.

After hanging out with MJ, we went downtown to yell at the Vital Statistics people who have lost Corwyn's birth certificate application form twice. I handed it in for the third time today - this time in person - and I got a receipt, so they can't claim misplacement again.

The next picture requires explanation. We have a wood-burning fireplace and Chris thought it would be an economical way to heat the house in the winter. Then he found out how expensive it is to buy firewood. So he made it his hobby/mission/quest/absolute obsession to find free firewood. He has been incredibly successful (too successful really - when is he going to be able to split all that?) so here he is standing on the fruit of his labour.

The rest of the day was dominated by Corwyn's cuteness. I couldn't decide which pictures were the cutest of the cute, so you get them all. I love his new little hat. Today I discovered that H&M has baby clothes. Yikes! So cute. So cheap. Must. Walk. Away. Now. While. I. Only. Have. Three. Items.

I've been putting Corwyn in his Jolly Jumper every day, but it's only been in the last week that he really figured out the action required to jump. Now he goes at it quite enthusiastically!

CORWYN AND THE CUCUMBER

2008-05-26T16:05:00.004-07:00

In a couple of months, Corwyn will start eating food. (This thought kind of blows my mind if I spend too much time thinking about it - I so love being the sole provider of nutrition for my little guy) Getting kids to eat food can sometimes be a challenge and I do not want it to be a "big deal" and I don't want to have a picky eater to deal with.

My thought has been that if I'm casual in how I introduce food to Corwyn, then it won't be a big stressful deal for him. So I've been letting him lick things every once in a while (grand total of 4 times, but I'll be continuing) so that he gets used to different tastes. I don't actually let him have any of the food to swallow or gum on, I just put it to his lips for him to taste. He loved lemons and pineapple, didn't like the olive, and this was his reaction to a slice of cucumber:

Cucumber is such a mild-tasting vegetable, it's so funny that he had such a strong taste reaction to it. Especially since he loved the lemon slice - he was grabbing for it when I took it away and trying to reach it with his mouth when he saw it in my hand. I should note, it sort of looks like I shoved it down his throat in the video, but I really only touched it to his lips and he licked it.

"Pepe" is Corwyn's little lovey that he sleeps with. I wear Pepe in my bra for a few hours every couple of days so that he smells like me when he's in bed with Corwyn. Yesterday, after being at church for about an hour, I looked down and realized that I had a very lumpy breast - I'd forgotten Pepe! No body said anything, but it was very lumpy, so people must have noticed. The things they don't tell you will happen in those "getting ready for baby" books.

A THINLY VIELED EXCUSE TO CONSUME DELICIOUS ICE CREAM CAKE

2008-05-24T13:45:00.002-07:00

Saturday marked four months of Corwyn's life outside the womb. It was a beautiful, hot and sunny day, and four months of life seemed as good excuse as any to satiate a hankering I have had for a while for a DQ Ice Cream cake. The lady at DQ raised an eyebrow but didn't comment when I asked her to write the greeting:

We crashed Christina & Michael's housewarming party and sang "Happy Birthday" to Corwyn.

I don't think I've mentioned here, but Corwyn has perfected the projectile vomit, and does it with grace and panache many, many times a day. He usually smiles while doing in. We didn't bring a change of clothes for him, and Saturday was especially pukey, so we just stripped him of his soaking wet duds and he skinned it till his clothes dried.

Corwyn cheerfully watched me consume the largest piece. Hey, I'm making breastmilk. . .I can still use the "eating for two" excuse can't I?

We carefully brought the leftover cake home to enjoy later. However, ice cream cake doesn't stand up so good when left overnight in the trunk of the car.

THE DILEMMA OF DREAMS

2008-05-21T14:31:00.008-07:00

What do you do when your dreams pull you in opposite directions?

I've been going to BCIT for nearly three years, working on completing a certificate in marketing and public relations. I've got a head for business and marketing. I'm good at it and I love it.

I'm also passionate about educating and empowering women - especially in their childbearing years. As you probably know, I'm a birth & post-partum doula and I'm working on completing my certification as a childbirth educator.

My dream is to combine my business and marketing skills with my passion for birth and educating women. I've come up with a fantastic and unique business idea that will allow me to practice as a doula and actually make a living - all while empowering other women to do the same. I've even got a feasible plan to put this dream into action.

This dream is more than a dream to me though. It's a calling. Working with women is more than just something I would like to do - it's built into my DNA. It's something I have to do. Spreading the word about the benefits of normal birth (and it's power and beauty!), the benefits (and pleasure!) of breastfeeding - these are things I can't help but talk about. It's the legacy I walk in, with a doula mother and maternity ward nurse grandmother. It's in my bones.

And then on our honeymoon, Chris and randomly started talking about fostering children. And then we were introduced to our friend "Anna" from my last post. And then we got to know her kids. And then we caught the bug. The "we have to foster kids" bug. And now the bug has completely infected us. It's something we have to do.

Chris and I have spent hours talking about "Jeremy" and "Ashlee". We have space in our hearts. We have space in our house. But do we currently have space in our lives?

This is where it got crunchy. To foster children now would mean that I would not be able to launch my business in the next year as we had planned. It would mean delaying that launch for an indeterminate amount of time - perhaps years, perhaps forever.

The important things in life always have a cost. Loving always has a cost. The most valuable things cost the most. Friendship. Marriage. Children. To do these things well always requires sacrifice.

So we've spent the last few days praying and crying and talking. We've been trying to figure out what the right sacrifice is. The conclusion is that the time is not right for us to foster and we have to trust that God will take care of Jeremy and Ashlee. We can't rescue every foster child that comes across our path. There are nine thousand children in foster care in BC.

It's hard - to have my heart in two places. I want to doula- to mother mothers, to educate and support. And I want to mother the motherless. For now, I'm heading down the path of mompreneur, trusting that this is a door that God is opening for me so that I'll be better able to mother the motherless later in life.

In closing - I'm going to get my megaphone out in regards to fostering. There is a huge need for foster parents in BC. You don't need to be some sort of highly-qualified person to foster. You do not need to have experience with children. You do not need to be married, or make a lot of money or have a certain level of education. You just need to have an open heart and open home. (And pass a criminal record check and have a home study done by a social worker) There are different types of fostering - you can choose whether you would like to do long term or short term/emergency. You can choose to do babies, school aged children or teens. The Ministry of Children and Families will give you the training that you need and match you with children that match your skill level.

I challenge you to think about the possibility of fostering. To find out more about fostering in BC, go here.

REACHING, DESPERATELY REACHING

2008-05-18T22:16:00.008-07:00

My friend and hero, who for the sake of this post I will call "Anna" is a single mom of four kids. Technically, she's a foster parent, but her and her children are as much of a family unit as a family with blood ties. God placed those four kids in her home for a reason, and they have blossomed under her care and investment.

This past Friday, VACFSS had more children than they had placements for. They had babies with no bottles, no diapers and no homes. They had school-aged children that they thought they were going to have to take home themselves (not a very good option as social workers typically do not have children themselves and so would not be set up to have kids in their homes) and so they called Anna in desperation, asking her to take two kids for the long weekend. She said that she would but she didn't have beds for them to sleep in. They were so desperate for placements that they bought her a bunk bed. Later that evening two children were dropped off at her doorstep by an after-hours social worker who had never met the children prior to delivering them to Anna. She didn't know their last names, didn't know why they were in care, didn't know anything about them at all. This meant that Anna didn't know anything about them at all either.

These kids, who I will call "Jordan" and "Ashlee" are sweet children. But what I see in their stoic faces is devastating. In Jordan's face, I see calculated mistrust. I see disappointment that you and I can hardly fathom. I see crushing insecurity and an overwhelming desire for stability. Ashlee is desperate for approval. She is desperate for someone to say "you're amazing!" her eyes pleade : "love me."

Anna can't keep these kids. They don't "fit" with her kids. Jordan and Ashlee will be transfered to another foster home in the next few days. At first, I thought: at least these kids get to be in a good, loving, safe home for the weekend. A bit of oasis and respite in their helpless tumble through the foster care system.

But after thinking about it I came to realize it's actually terrible. The reality of their life is that in all likelihood they will be shunted from foster home to foster home, back to dad for bit perhaps, and then back into a foster home and the cycle will repeat until they "age out" and the government no longer has to take responsibility for them when shit hits the fan. When this is all you know, yes it's bad, but it's just what you know. But when you see stability, love - a true family created out of a foster care situation, and you get dropped into it, and then whisked away, it has to be worse. To taste, to see the possibility but never to have. How desperate a life.
I cried all the way home from Anna's house tonight. I'm struggling to see where God is in this situation. I'm so angry that these kids are getting so shafted.

God's Word says that he is "a father to the fatherless, a defender of widows" He says that he places the lonely in families. But there is a physical reality here: There is no family for Jordan and Ashlee. I know that the ministry does not remove children lightly and so their life must have been pretty shitty that they had to be apprehended in the middle of the night. Ashlee told me that this is not the first time she's been in foster care. And from what I gathered from our conversation later, it isn't even the second or third time. These kids have been through the system.

Where is the forever family for Jordan and Ashlee? Where is the stability, the unconditional love and acceptance, the constant parenting that they need to flourish? At this moment, I can barely see the screen for the tears and all I am so angry. All I can say is " You made a promise God. Time to pony up on that." My heart aches to take them in, to give them the stability and permanency that they so need. But I can't.

So I'm left with my tears and frustration. I'm left yelling at God for the wrongness of this.

I wish I could tie this post up with a nice bow of a lesson learned, a platitude or some glorious epiphany. But I have nothing but tears and a fragment of a song running through my head:

I guess I shouldn't think it odd
Until we see the face of God
The yearning deep within tells us
There's more to come
So when we taste of the divine
It leaves us hungry every time
For one more taste of what awaits
When Heaven's gates are reached

We are reaching for the future
We are reaching for the past
No matter what we have we reach for more
We are desperate to discover
What is just beyond our grasp
But maybe that's what heaven is for
(from "Reaching" by Carolyn Arends)

There is a longing inside of me for more. I am convinced that it is a longing that is in each of us. It's built into us like DNA - a longing for there to be right in the world. A longing for wholeness and unconditional love and acceptance. I will never be satisfied. It is not meant to be. It can only be satisfied by God and we live in a fallen world and life will always be full of brokenness. That's what heaven is for - for wholeness. But until then - it sucks a lot. And it sucks the most for Ashlee and Jordan.

At the very bottom of this blog is a quote from Bob Pierce that says "Let my heart be broken with the things that break the heart of God." In my anger and frustration tonight, that is all I have. My heart is broken with the things that break the heart of God. He hates this shit more than I do.

I'm going to go now. To cry and pray. Maybe somewhere in the mess I'll find some faith. Faith that there is an Anna out there for Jordan and Ashlee.

THE FIRST REAL BEACH DAY!

2008-05-18T11:43:00.011-07:00

Oh the sun! The beautiful sun! I almost forgot that it existed, but yesterday she shone in all her glory. The humidex of 32 was not as glorious but it was a beautiful day none the less.

Corwyn is not a big fan of getting the sun in his eyes, yesterday we picked him up a pair of Baby Banz. After the initial trauma of having something stuck to his face wore off, he seems to quite enjoy them. We can't get over how cheesy and cute he looks. He was very stylin yesterday in his camo pants and vintage ET t-shirt that was mine when I was little (uh oh, we've turned into those parents who deck their kids out in ridiculously trendy duds)

Here's the boys in their shades. Chris is sporting his sick trucker hat and shades. All these boys need to complete their white trash-ness is a couple of cold ones and a monster tuck show.

After meandering along West 4th to do some shopping I found a sweet hoodie at Lotus Wear. For those of you who noticed that Lululemon's quality took a nosedive since they started outsourcing offshore, you'll want to check out Lotus Wear - they are a Vancouver company that actually makes their stuff in Vancouver - and it's good stuff! After our errands were complete we went and had a latte at the very best coffee shop in Vancouver (seriously, the best latte you'll ever have. And their cups are all the most beautiful blue - even the paper ones! Making your beverage not only delectable to drink but also delightful to look at) Once our lattes were consumed, we headed down to the beach to catch a cool breeze and have a sushi picnic.

I hope you enjoy this short film which demonstrates the way that we enjoy ourselves at our son's expense.

I'll leave you with a bunch of photos of our very photogenic son.

Have I mentioned before that I love breastfeeding?

MY HUSBAND IS SUCH A WEIRDO

2008-05-12T12:35:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned before, we have satellite radio. It is awesome. There is a channel that only plays music from movies, along with short dialogue clips from the movie. Yesterday, the Karate Kid was playing. My husband loves this movie. He got really excited. Then he got inspired and expressive. This short movie documented what happened.

HERE'S THE POST I STARTED ON MOTHER'S DAY BUT GOT TOO TIRED TO FINISH SO IT'S SHORT

2008-05-11T23:46:00.000-07:00

I have been a mother for one hundred and nine days. There are moments when it feels like forever and moments when it feels like only seconds. Today, I celebrated being a mother.

( It was like my birthday, but better. I got the fantastic gift of 3 hours at Spa Utopia. And I got to eat all my favourite foods)

A SERIES OF FIRSTS

2008-05-10T23:13:00.001-07:00

It's been a week of firsts!

Today, Corwyn rolled all the way over from his tummy to his back for the very first time. I think it was completely by accident as he's yet to repeat the feat, although I keep putting him on his tummy until he gets mad at me. Maybe tomorrow.

We also put him in the Jolly Jumper for the first time. He quite likes it. If you care to, you can view this little video. I always forget that the camera does not flip the footage to the right way like it does with still images, so you'll get to see it sidways. Sorry!

If the above two firsts don't blow your mind, this will definitely prove my son's brilliance: this week he figured out how to grab toys and . . . .drum roll please. . . .put them in his mouth. It was quite cool actually, one day he just looked at stuff. Then I saw the light-bulb go on in his head and he decided to try and reach for the little dangly thing on his baby chair. He tried very hard but was unsuccessful for two days. On the third day, I saw him meet success. He immediately combined this new skill with the one acquired the week before, which was to put his hands in his mouth.

In that moment, there was another first, this one was for me: I experienced my first welling up of motherly pride as I gushed "Oh Corwyn, you're so SMART! Look at you put your toy in your mouth!"

Corwyn met his Auntie Margo for the first time. Margo is my second mother. I've known her my entire life and I love her dearly.

A not fun first this week was Corwyn's first stuffy nose/cold. I passed it on to him, but thanks to my superpower (I make milk!) he's recovered quickly and other than being tired and a bit droopy, he didn't really seem to mind. I kind of liked him being sick - he was so cuddly! He just wanted to sit with his head on my chest, which is not typical for him, he wants to looking out at the world and prefers to be supported in a standing position rather than sitting.

It's been a busy week of newness for my baby boy!

TOTALLY ADDICTED

2008-05-09T00:04:00.008-07:00

Ohhhh I'm excited! Today I ordered a BabyHawk. Those of you who see me often are familiar with my babywearing habits...Corwyn is frequently slinged or Cuddlywrapped on either Chris or I. Although we love our stroller, Chris and I are firm believers in the benefits of "babywearing" and we have a well-loved ring sling and an often-used Cuddly Wrap.

See how handy it is to have your kid in a sling? You can easily eat a delicious donair, which is a decidedly two-handed food.

Corwyn is now nearing the 15 lb mark and I'm finding it increasingly difficult to wear him in the sling for extended periods of time. It's too much weight on one shoulder. Our other carrier is a Cuddly Wrap and as much as I love it, the fact is that it's black and is going to be really hot to wear in the summer, and not practical for whipping him in and out of quickly, so we were in the market for another alternative.

So, after trying many different carriers at the Babywearing Conference a couple of weeks ago, we fell in love with the BabyHawk. It just took me a really long time to decide what fabric I wanted. There are a lot of options!

I love wearing Corwyn. I like to have him close to me, it makes him happy and content, we can breastfeed on the go, I have both hands free, and he takes naps. Whenever we wear him when we go out, do we ever get comments. People act like they've never seen a baby in a sling before. I guess many people haven't. There's strollers everywhere and the whole world seems to enjoy carrying their infants in those damned annoying car seats (so heavy, so awkward!) but it seems like in our neighborhood the Bugaboo Frogs abound, but not so many baby slings. Hey, we're raging hippies at heart, what can I say?

Actually, there's another reason why I am intentional about wearing Corwyn so much in public. Remember I blogged about my megaphone a while back? Well, babywearing is another tool in my toolbox. . .another way for me to get out my megaphone and say "It's the best thing in the world to carry your baby. Gary Ezzo and his Babywise stuff is out to lunch. (oh, did I say that outloud?) Breastfeed on demand. Co-sleep. Trust your instincts." It's another way for me start conversations, to educate women. When my friends start having babies, they'll remember how cool they thought the Cuddly Wrap was, they'll rememer how fun it was when they tried it out. They'll remember how handy the sling looked when I was carrying a whole bunch of stuff and a baby. When I talk to strangers on the bus, or in the grocery store, I can tell them that's it's comfortable, that babies held in slings cry less and sleep better, that they're not new - most of the world has been using them for thousands of years. And in the middle of these conversations, I get to be close to my baby. Win-Win!

Please enjoy this picture of Chris being all like homee g thug saying "what's up yo this is just me and my kid being all chill in the westside hood." (Actually, it's just really hard to take a picture of Chris where he doesn't look drunk or stoned he tries not to, but it often turns out looking something like this. Also, he is not intentionally making the "Westside" gang sign with his fingers, that is really, truly coincidence.)

Please note that although these two pictures are both at the beach, it was on two separate occasions. Also, we don't only wear the sling at the beach. It's just the only place it occurs to me to take pictures, and so the only pictures I had of us wearing Corwyn. I should also confess that these two pictures mark the only two times in the past year that we have gone to the beach. Even though it is only 10 minutes from our house. This fact makes me feel like an idiot.

Anyways, lets move on from the addiction of babywearing to the far less noble addiction to the boob tube. Although I may defend my love of Grey's Anatomy to Chris by standing by its classification as a "drama", deep down inside I know that it is really just a soap opera with better sets, lighting and script writers, but I really, really love it. Thursdays has been a bad day for us, I never seem to be home, or organized enough to set the VCR to tape it. So I've been sadly missing it. Then I discovered that the CTV website has full episodes. Well. That kept me up until 1 am the other night. Oops.

Also on the topic of television, I am finally free of daytime TV. I don't turn on the TV just to watch TV during the day, but when I sit down to feed Corwyn, it is regularly at about 1 pm, and another soap opera disguised as a "drama" is on every day at Much Music...they air an episode of the O.C. I know it's terrible. But I love it. Seth Cohen. . . oh-so-funny. So I've been working my way through all the seasons. And it finished this week. So I'm done. Daytime television officially over. I now listen to our satellite* radio (we have over 100 channels of music for crying out loud) and I'm going to start reading again. Once I pay off my library fines. I would like you to take note of the fact that I made sure Seth's (I don't actually know the actor's real name) picture was small enough that I wouldn't look like some lame teen crush fansite. Because I'm not, he's just really funny and a girl needs to laugh. Especially one who is still on the postpartum hormonal roller coaster.

*I spelled satellite really wrong when I typed it and my spell checker auto-corrected it to "Israelite". This made me laugh.

SAY IT LIKE IT IS MIKE

2008-05-05T15:34:00.004-07:00

All levels of government needed on land claims
(Vancouver Sun, May 2, 2008)

The Greater Vancouver Regional District's choice to pursue legal action on the Musqueam land deal is a colossal waste of taxpayers' money and is a recipe for another 100 years without reconciliation of aboriginal rights.

In the case of the regional park, the province will not be compensating GVRD. These lands were originally granted to the GVRD by the province for $1 in 1989. In response to related litigation by the Mus-queam at the time, the GVRD signed an affidavit explicitly agreeing to accept title to that land without prejudice to Musqueam aboriginal claims. With respect to the area adjacent to the University Golf Course, there is no net loss of park land. The overall reduction to the regional park in question is approximately two per cent.

The courts have repeatedly told the province that government must consult and, if necessary, accommodate the interests of first nations on decisions that affect their aboriginal rights.

As a government, we have taken this advice and sought out solutions at the negotiating table instead of the courtroom. The agreement with the Musqueam is the product of such negotiations.

On the issue of solid waste management, any suggestion that the province blocked the Ashcroft landfill is patently false. The province alerted the GVRD of the obligation of the Crown to consult with local first nations. If the GVRD abandoned the process, it alone is responsible for the decision.

If we are to succeed further in creating a new relationship and closing the social and economic gaps between aboriginal and non-aboriginal citizens, the involvement and cooperation of all levels of government will be needed.

- MICHAEL DE JONG

B.C. minister of aboriginal relations and reconciliation

Dear City of Vancouver:

When the Pacific Spirit Park was established, you clearly understood that there were pending land claims and that those came first and foremost. You even signed a legal document stating your understanding. You got the park for one dollar. The land in question is less than 2% of the park. This means that if you were entitled to finacial compensation (which you aren't) it shouldn't exceed two cents. There's lots of actually useful things that you could do with your taxpayers money...feed and shelter the homeless, give funding to our under-funded hospitals or schools. Instead, you're throwing money down the drain to sue the government for land they gave you conditionally for a dollar. Please stop being an idiot and start contributing to the solution rather than perpetuating disfunctional relationships with First Nations.

- Avital

THE LATEST & GREATEST

2008-04-22T13:20:00.000-07:00

We're a family. Three. Us. It's different. We're still getting used to it. Sometimes, we'll be in the car, or sitting in the living room, and Corwyn will be very quite and then all of the a sudden, he'll make a noise, and we'll realize we forgot about him. Oh yeah, we have a baby. Right. I don't have time to say much right now, so here's some new pictures of my super cutie.

My little rocker baby!

Hanging with his Auntie Tiff

Oh!

With Mama and Daddy

We love our little man!

THE POT CALLING THE KETTLE BLACK

2008-04-21T23:33:00.003-07:00

Lately, there's a great deal of attention being directed to China's treatment of Tibet, and their less than spotless track record in the human rights department. As Canadians, we need to be careful of finger-pointing when we have had an ongoing genocide in our own back yard. The old adage comes to mind "when you point a finger, there's three fingers pointing back at you."

Rapheal Lemkin coined the "genocide" in 1944 and he said "By 'genocide' we mean the destruction of an ethnic group . . . . Generally speaking, genocide does not necessarily mean the immediate destruction of a nation, except when accomplished by mass killings of all members of a nation. It is intended rather to signify a coordinated plan of different actions aiming at the destruction of essential foundations of the life of national groups, with the aim of annihilating the groups themselves. The objectives of such a plan would be disintegration of the political and social institutions, of culture, language, national feelings, religion, and the economic existence of national groups, and the destruction of the personal security, liberty, health, dignity, and even the lives of the individuals belonging to such groups ."

The history of Canada is a history of genocide against aboriginal peoples. In case you think this is an overstatement, here are a few examples:

For approximately 100 years, the Canadian government forced all aboriginal children over the age of seven to attend boarding schools. The RCMP would forceably remove children from their homes and fine or imprison parents who resisted the removal of their children. While attending these "schools" the children were not allowed to speak thier language, see their family members or practice their cultural traditions. The survival rate of children in these schools was only 50%. This number was a matter of public record. A medical examiner in the early 1900s performed an inquest and called this fact a crime. However, nothing changed, and children continued to die. Children were physically, sexually and emotionally abused. Children were murdered, and their deaths were unreported. Over 50,000 are "missing". They died, were buried in unmarked or mass graves, and the locations have not been released by the government or the churches that ran the schools.

Because the children were not allowed to speak their native languages, most first nation languages in Canada are officially dead. Aboriginal culture and history is largely oral, so when a language dies, so does a huge part of their tradition and history. By deliberately stamping out their language, the government effectively crippled cultures and erased oral histories.

In the 1700s, blankets deliberately infected with smallpox were "gifted" to aboriginal communities. Entire villages were wiped out.

The Beothuk people of Newfoundland is extinct mainly due to the introduction of European diseases such as TB and smallpox and

In BC, the Pot Latch, a cultural practice of the Kwakwaka'wakw people was made illegal in 1885. Although it continued underground, when discovered, pot latch hosts were arrested and imprisoned. Outlawing this cultural practice had severe economic implications for the Kwakwaka'wakw.

Let's not forget the nation-wide displacement program: Aboriginal people have been forced out of their traditional territories and into postage-stamp sized, second-rate locations. Reserves are often in less than desirable and remote locations, frequently lack electricity or clean water. The Bands do not even own the titles to these small plots of land - in paternalistic fashion, the government holds all Reserve land "in trust."

I've listed only a few examples, our history is saturated in abuses heaped on Aboriginal people. Canada has been very effective in the "disintegration of the political and social institutions, of culture, language, national feelings, religion, and the economic existence of national groups, and the destruction of the personal security, liberty, health, dignity, and even the lives of the individuals belonging to such groups ."

Last week, I watched Kevin Annett's film "Unrepentant: Genocide in Canada". He states that he does not think that healing from the atrocities committed will ever be possible, but says that what we can do is speak the truth. Before we moved to the Reserve, Chris had never even heard of a Residential school and my understanding was fairly limited. Now, because of what I have learned through attending Musqueam 101 and the stories that we have heard from our friends and neighbours here, we are committed to educating and speaking the truth about the ugliness in our nation's history.

And, we're waiting for the Canadian government and the United and Catholic Churches to admit to the crimes that have been committed. The abusers have not yet been brought to justice. Not a single person has stood trial for the crimes committed.

RANDOM BITS

2008-04-15T09:31:00.002-07:00

I've been working on a post for a while, but I haven't finished it yet...life these days means that blog post writing happens in fits and starts, and this one will require some dedicated time to complete as I've been chewing on thoughts regarding Penny Simkin's mantra of childbirth support - "How will she remember it?" I've been thinking about this in relation to supporting women in life events other than a child's birth, specifically abortion and miscarriage. Hopefully I'll finish it this week.

Today, I'm off to UBC for a public lecture at the school of midwifery. It's entitled "The Art of Birth: Portraits of Biblical Accounts". Hopefully Corwyn will be happy or sleepy so I'll be able to enjoy the whole thing.

We're having friends over to watch this film tonight:

I n other movie news....

Went to see "The Business of Being Born" which was fantastic.

I also watched the first ever exclusively youtube released feature length film: The Cult of Sincerity.

So this is me recommending you watch all three. Happy Tuesday!

BOWEN ISLAND ADVENTURE

2008-04-10T23:59:00.002-07:00

Corwyn went on his very first ferry ride yesterday. We went for a little day trip with my friend Jen to visit my friend Christina who is living on Bowen Island for a month to kick start writing writing a book.

We were met at the ferry terminal by a smiling Christina.

She is staying with friends who have a stunningly beautiful hide-a-way overlooking the ocean. You have to cross an amazingly pretty little bridge over a stream to get to the house. This made me feel like I was going to some extremely remote and restful oasis.

We had a wonderful lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and a lovingly prepared salad.

Corwyn turned on the charm and was doted upon by the loving ladies.

The house was completely saturated in books. They were everywhere. To me, this is as close to heaven as you can get here.

It was a splendid day.

CAN'T ARGUE WITH THE TRUTH

2008-04-10T18:55:00.004-07:00

Fact: My baby is really cute.

SEVEN MINUTES OF FAITH STATEMENTS

2008-04-07T11:08:00.000-07:00

I saw this video clip on Michael's blog.

Graham Cook from YWAM New Zealand says it all.

I've watched it several times now, because as it challenged Michael, it has challenged me and I have to ask myself the questions, is this who I am, is this how I live my life? Do I tell the stories of God's power, or am I a listener? Am I a radical lover and an extravagant giver? Is my faith infections and contagious?

The naked truth is...not enough. I frequently get caught up in the mundane to-do list of day to day tasks and forget to put my head up and remember that my life is bigger than laundry and bill-paying. I forget that my life is bigger than today.

I need reminders like this. I hear this and my heart lifts - it strikes a chord in me that re-ignites the vision I have of lives revolutionized, communities transformed and a world changed by the power of God.

As Cook says...

"We have decided that it is better to fail while reaching for the impossible that God has for us is better than succeeding in settling for less."

I am reaching for the impossible.

NAPTIME POST

2008-04-04T14:03:00.007-07:00

I'm writing this while sitting on my couch, laptop balanced on my knees, baby resting on my lap and forearms having a nap. I've tried to put him down, but he cries and wakes up, so I've given up and you get the pleasure of a blog post that will probably be as long as his nap. (unless I get distracted by some nifty internet goodie) I get the pleasure of a sweaty lap thanks to the human heater resting on it.

I don't have a deep, thought-provoking topic to write on today. Instead, I think I'll just ramble on about some random things and what usually happens in my new life with baby.

I'm actually starting to really enjoy spending time with my son. As I've mentioned here before, I'm not really a "baby person". I'm happy to say that the days of, what I consider, boring newborn-ness are past. Corwyn is all smiles and looking around curiously at the world. I'm also figuring out how to get things done while having a baby that wants to be held what seems like all-the-freaking-time.

Life is settling into a routine. Corwyn is becoming quite predicable, and so that panicky "oh god why is my baby crying" feeling rarely rears its head these days. He's sleeping through the night (5 hours is medically speaking, considered to be "sleeping through the night" for babies his age) He wakes up around 8.30 am with smiles for his mama and we get dressed, have breakfast (I usually feed him and me at the same time) and start our day. He'll have a period of alertness and a desire to interact. I sing him songs, read him little books, play peek-a-boo and then some internal switch flicks and he gets cranky - and that's my cue to swaddle him up as tight as I can, flip him on his side, stick the soother in his mouth and start the gentle bouncing and bum-tapping that puts him out in about 5 minutes. (Thank you "Happiest Baby on The Block"!) He'll sleep for half an hour to an hour. If I want to get anything done, I have to do it with him in my arms, in a sling, or try to trick him into thinking he's being held. This is where stealthy movements and handy rolled blankets, plus a little vibrating baby chair are necessary. When he wakes up, we basically repeat that pattern.

Corwyn and I get out a fair bit...coffee with friends, hang outs with Leanne, errand running. The other day, we'd been out and about for a few hours and Corwyn had been in the stroller for several hours apart from the times when I had hurriedly fed him and changed is diapers. Suddenly, he started crying. I had just fed him, so I knew he wasn't hungry, so I checked his diaper - all good in that department. I gave him his soother, he spat it out several times, so that wasn't it. So I picked him up and the poor little guy nuzzled his head into my shoulder and sighed a bit sigh of relief. I realized that I'd barely held him all day. He'd been trucked around from place to place in the stroller with minimal contact with his mom. All he needed was a hug and some love. I topped him up and we went on with our day, but I've been much more aware now, and make sure I don't get too busy and focused on the task at hand to take the time to stop and love my son in the way he needs to be loved.

WORDS I HAVE TO SAY

2008-03-28T23:57:00.001-07:00

I had coffee with my friend Christina the other day. We had a great visit, talking about all sorts of things, but mostly about the new chapters we have begun in our lives. She got married. I had a baby.

Both of these events are obviously major life changes. They are changes that effect every single aspect our lives. They have literally saturated our lives with change. Christina said “I feel as though I have to re-discover who I am.” I sobbed out exactly the same words to Chris one night as I cried over how different my life was now that I have a baby. I wasn’t unhappy to have a baby, I was just overwhelmed by the different-ness of life.

On my way home from my date with Christina, Corwyn slept most of the way and I had much time for reflection. I thought about my conversation with Christina, and the fact that I felt energized and lightened after my time with her. I love spending time with Christina, and she is an energizing person, but I felt that there was a deeper reason for these feelings. I thought about the “why” for a while and then in a blinding flash of clarity, I realized: I had been real. Really, truly real. I shared my experiences as a new mother with candor and complete honesty. But I was transparent with intent. I realized that this was not the first time I felt this way in the past few weeks. I have been finding many opportunities to be purposefully, intentionally honest.

We live in a culture of fear and convenience. Women fear childbirth and make parenting decisions based on convenience. I hate these attitudes and there is something inside me that must fight it in every way that I can. As I write here, and talk with women – both friends and strangers, over coffee, at parties, in the grocery store line up, on the bus, I have made the choice to be deliberately vulnerable in speaking about my experiences in this new chapter of my life.

My flash of clarity on the bus that day has given me a new sense of purpose. I am on a mission now. I want to educate, empower and BE WITH women.

I have heard more birth horror stories that I can count. Any time you gather together a group of women who have had children, they seem to come spilling out, each one bloodier and more traumatic than the last. It is these stories of fear, spoken as if with a megaphone that resound with my sisters. These are the stories that ring in their ears when they think of having children. These are the stories that hang over their heads during their pregnancies.

So this is me, getting my own megaphone out. I won’t be silent. I loved being in labour. I was energized and empowered and exhausted all at the same time. I have never been so connected to my body. I have never felt so strong and purposeful. I rocked.

I’ve had people say they felt uncomfortable reading some of my recent posts, they felt that I was too vulnerable. I’m here to say that my vulnerability is intentional. I write with purpose, and my honesty is an attempt to dispel the fear that is so prevalent in our culture. This blog is part of my megaphone. It is one of my tools as I walk in the path of being a doula, of being a woman’s helper, of educating, and empowering and loving. If one woman walks away after reading my words and feels a little stronger, a little more able to birth or mother or be a friend, than I have been successful.