Without a woman or a girl

James Brown was a wicked smart man!  I know this song has been redone time and time again by every artist who gets up near the top of the charts... but James Brown deserves the credit. He had the right idea!
"It's a man's world, but it wouldn't be nothing, without a woman or a girl."

I was abruptly woken this morning by someone telling me that they had an 'accident' in my bed, right beside me.  I felt bad for Miriam, she was yelling apologies and when I looked at my bed there was only the littlest, tiniest spot of pee. But, Eric was up giving her a shower, and regardless of how big it was, the sheets still needed to be washed.

6:00am... I am never up this early!  I know, there are people who wake at this time for work everyday, and there are people who wake up at this time by choice... not me.  I am so lucky, my kids usually sleep until 7 or 7:30, and I think that is mostly because I wake them when I get up and get ready for the day.

Anyways - I got off topic there - I decided I wouldn't go back to sleep.  How often do I get an hour of quiet in my house, by myself?  *Hint: the answer is 'NEVER'.

So my mind is quickly sorting through the regular morning routine, and thinking of all of the things I have been meaning to do when I had a moment to myself.

I could fold laundry (which I really need to do, since today I used the last pair of underwear that was in my drawer)
I could do dishes (ha - that's a joke)
I could sit down and write the blog post I meant to write last week (yes, that's it!)

To my point - here we go-

I think that growing up I always felt moved to do something radical.  To stand up for what is right, and to help others see the injustice around us.

I did projects on racism, or equality, or environmental issues and animal rights.

I'm not sure what sparked me then, but it is pretty easy to forget about those things.

It occurred to me that I have forgotten about most of those things because they do not stare me in the face.

I guess I thought that most pharmaceutical/cosmetic companies had stopped testing on animals.
I guess I thought most big corporations were at least trying to lower their carbon footprint.
I guess I thought that everyone sees each other as equals, regardless of their sex or race.
I guess I was wrong.

There was a woman in the UK who, with Lush cosmetics and the humane society, is launching a huge campaign to put an end to cosmetic testing on animals.  My first thought is - good for her!

As for woman's rights, its clear to me that I am treated equally in my own home, doesn't that mean it is the same for everyone else? *Hint: the answer is 'NO'

I work with *mostly* women from many many different backgrounds.  I specifically work with 2 women, one who is East Indian and one who is West Indian (that is how they explained it to me.  They are very similar to me, culturally and by looks, but they stress that things are very different for them) and they are both young ladies in arranged marriages.

Lately I have been thinking that these traditions are simply just traditions.  I thought no one really did this anymore!  When I asked the ladies if they were happy they both answered with a strong "No!"

They are happy with their kids, they are not happy with their husbands, and both of them tell me that before they had kids they made their husbands promise that they would not set their children up for an arranged marriage.

This seems foreign to me.  And the more I think about it, the more I realize that if these 2 women are here in Canada, what happy the hundreds of thousands of woman left back in their home countries.
Here we have laws which needed to be abided by, laws that state that a man cannot beat a woman, laws that give each of these ladies the same rights as their husbands, but 'back home' there are no such rules.

This was just my thoughts... it's a hard thing to imagine for me, here, in Canada, with the husband I chose, with children we were happy to have together and where my opinion is just as valid as his.

This battle has been raging for centuries.  How can this constant battle end? *this time I have no answer.. I have no idea what to say...

                                      You see, man made the cars to take us over the road

Man made the trains to carry heavy loads

Man made electric light to take us out of the dark

Man made the boat for the water, like Noah made the ark

This is a man's, a man's, a man's world

But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl

Raising girls: I'm no expert!

"The verb that's been enforced on girls is to please. Girls are trained to please...I want us all to change the verb. I want the verb to be educate, or activate, or engage, or confront, or defy, or create." Eve Ensler

Miriam has been challenging me this week.
She has been testing me day in and day out.

My cousin sent me a link to a video (which is in the link above). I watched it and I laughed a little and cried a little, but mostly it made me think.
Being a girl/woman allows us to feel so many emotions.  I know this - I am an emotional mama! Yet, I am constantly finding myself irritated by the amount of tears produced by my girls (but mostly by Miriam).  I have a habit of getting her to calm down and then pointing out to her that she didn't need to cry about it, that she was being silly, crying about something like her sleeve being inside out. And sometimes I dismiss her entirely.  I say things like "I will talk to you when you are done crying" or "I don't understand anything you say while you are crying" (which is kind of true)

I mean - she cries a lot, and it is true that her tears are not always warranted.  She cries about her 'spot' on the couch. She cries about her hair being in knots. She cries when I brush her hair. She cries that she is tired. She cries that she doesn't want to go to bed.  She cries that there isn't enough food in her bowl. She cries that there is too much food in her bowl.  And that was just this morning!

Miriam crying because she had to put a sweater on.

I don't want her to be a whiney, crying girl. I know it' going to irritate teachers and classmates (as well as me and Eric). But, I don't want to numb her to what makes being a woman special. So where do I draw the line between cranky, irrational tears and tears that actually mean something?

Lucy didn't like the look of the pumpkin's insides.

What really made me realize that there is a distinctive difference was not only the video that I watched but on Saturday night, Eric and I put the girls to bed as usual.  Lucy was more upset than she normally is and was crying in her crib.  Miriam is used to this. Usually she covers her head with a pillow and goes to sleep regardless.  Saturday was different though.  On Saturday there was a chorus of crying.  Feeling like something must really be wrong, Eric and I went back to the bedroom.  I asked Miriam why she was crying, and she replied, "Lucy made me cry because she is sad!"  That pretty much broke my heart.

Emotions are good.  Without them we might as well be walking dead.

I realize I haven't answered the question about where to draw the line.  I have no clue.  All I know is that, I am an example of how they will one day react to their own children.  One day Miriam might have a crying girl like her, or maybe she will only have rough and tough boys or maybe she won't have any kids at all, but she always needs to feel something, whether it is sadness or joy or fear, feeling it reminds you that you are alive.  

Maybe I just need to be more patient with the with the tears, and find out what it is before I dismiss her feelings.  I hope one day she will be a strong woman who feels many emotions.

I AM AN EMOTIONAL CREATURE

by Eve Ensler

I love being a girl.

I can feel what you're feeling

as you're feeling it inside

the feeling

before.

I am an emotional creature.

Things do not come to me

as intellectual theories or hard-shaped ideas.

They pulse through my organs and legs

and burn up my ears.

I know when your girlfriend's really pissed off

even though she appears to give you what

you want.

I know when a storm is coming.

I can feel the invisible stirrings in the air.

I can tell you he won't call back.

It's a vibe I share.

I am an emotional creature.

I love that I do not take things lightly.

Everything is intense to me.

The way I walk in the street.

The way my mother wakes me up.

The way I hear bad news.

The way it's unbearable when I lose.

I am an emotional creature.

I am connected to everything and everyone.

I was born like that.

Don't you dare say all negative that it's a

teenage thing

or it's only only because I'm a girl.

These feelings make me better.

They make me ready.

They make me present.

They make me strong.

I am an emotional creature.

There is a particular way of knowing.

It's like the older women somehow forgot.

I rejoice that it's still in my body.

I know when the coconut's about to fall.

I know that we've pushed the earth too far.

I know my father isn't coming back.

That no one's prepared for the fire.

I know that lipstick means

more than show.

I know that boys feel super-insecure

and so-called terrorists are made, not born.

I know that one kiss can take

away all my decision-making ability

and sometimes, you know, it should.

This is not extreme.

It's a girl thing.

What we would all be

if the big door inside us flew open.

Don't tell me not to cry.

To calm it down

Not to be so extreme

To be reasonable.

I am an emotional creature.

It's how the earth got made.

How the wind continues to pollinate.

You don't tell the Atlantic ocean

to behave.

I am an emotional creature.

Why would you want to shut me down

or turn me off?

I am your remaining memory.

I am connecting you to your source.

Nothing's been diluted.

Nothing's leaked out.

I can take you back.

I love that I can feel the inside

of the feelings in you,

even if it stops my life

even if it hurts too much

or takes me off track

even if it breaks my heart.

It makes me responsible.

I am an emotional

I am an emotional, devotional,

incandotional, creature.

And I love, hear me,

love love love

being a girl.

Inspiration

"I would rather die of passion than of boredom." Vincent Van Gogh

An old teacher of mine passed away after a battle with cancer last week.

Mr. Delaney was an all inspiring man.  He could have caused action from a rock - and not by being loud or giving you shocking facts, but by listening, by being attentive and intentional.  He lived his life caring for others all over the planet (literally).  And although I haven't spoke to him in ages and haven't thought much of him in recent years, his death shook me.  Death always shakes me.

As a parent I genuinely hope that my children will one day encounter a teacher/adult/peer who inspires them the same way that Mr. D inspired me and so so SO many other students who walked through the doors of Waubaushene, Fesserton or Victoria Harbour Elementary. He encouraged me to take action, to make a difference in any small way that I could.  It was there, with him, that I started writing letters to various Ministers in Parliament and expressing concern for education for myself and my peers.  Expressing concern about injustices that were happening all over the world, but focusing mostly in Sierra Leone, where Mr. D has spent a significant amount of time.

As an adult I have lost that inspiration, passion and vigour. Those traits have been replaced with ignorance and complacency. I occasionally believe that one person CANNOT possibly make an impact on the world, but Mr. D proves that theory to be incorrect.  The number of people who he touched, that could make it to his funeral, could barely be contained in the confines of the church walls, but that is still only a small portion of people affected by his life.

I wish I did not feel this ignorance (which I suppose I could change) but at times it is hard to believe that my life as a stay-at-home mom/babysitter could make much of a difference, and that definitely needs to change.

I am clearly in need of some inspiration since last night I was even having incredibly boring dreams.

I am a dreamer - not like the John Lennon song. I mean in my dreams I live a crazy, unbelievable life (which would only be possible in dreams).  My dreams involve flying, not in airplanes or helicopters, but me, flying through the air, and managing for undisclosed periods of time under water.  Sometimes I dream that I am travelling to exotic and magical places and meeting new people and learning new skills.

Last night, I dreamt about going to the grocery store and buying 5 lemons (yes, specifically 5) and going to bed.  I DREAMT ABOUT GOING TO BED!! How incredibly lame is that!?!

Last night I was sitting in Southlake hospital to get a little chest infection looked at, but while I was there it occurred to me that I was sitting in the same hospital where Mr. D took his final breaths last week.  A place where hundred of thousands of people have taken their last breath.

Perhaps some of them were also global citizens/inspirations like Mr. D, perhaps many of them were apathetic, barely acknowledging anything that goes on outside their own community.  Perhaps more of us need to think on a global level.  We need to take over the calling of people who have been called to something new (or taken from this green earth).  We (as in me and you - just to be clear) need to make a difference and leave an impression on the world we will one day leave behind.

I guess you could say I am breaking out of my rut... but I still need to figure out what it is I am going to do about it.

Stuck in a RUT!

So, I'm stuck.

I am stuck in the rut of running children to programs after dinner every evening and coming home and flopping on the couch, (or some nights right into bed) currently coughing and hacking every step in between.

Seth says I sound like a motorcycle.  He thinks it's cool.
Seth says my constant coughing is getting really annoying.  Right, it's annoying for him - it's not bothering ME at all!

I am stuck in the rut of leaving my daughters in their PJ's until noon.

I am stuck in the rut of cooking, cleaning and caring for children (which isn't too bad because at least my house had been staying relatively tidy).

Halloween is disturbing my rut.  Now I have to sew and cut when I get home from running kids to Awana, swimming, skating, or the chiropractor.

I have to admit, I think I kind of like my rut - but it sure isn't giving me a lot to think about. Clearly my rut doesn't involve blogging - which I imagine is because my thought process is relatively the same throughout every day.

"It's time for breakfast.  It's time for a walk.  Hey! Stop hitting! It's time to tidy up. It's time to colour.  It's time to cut and paste.  It's time to eat lunch.  It's time to have a nap (not me - but kids).  Hey!?! it's quiet!  It's time to clean the kitchen.  It's time to get the babies from their nap.   Hey!?!? Where are your clothes? It's time to go to the park.  It's time to play.  It's time to cook dinner.  HEY!?!? how did your face get so dirty?" and so on and so on...

I swear to you - my next post will be about breaking myself out of this rut - but not tonight... tonight is Grey's Anatomy -  so I need to be stuck for just one more day... hahaha.

Cream of Carrot Soup

Today I am going to share with you, a family soup recipe.
My mother in-law gave me this recipe the first year we were married.  Since carrots are one of the cheapest things to buy in the fall, this soup is budget friendly and delicious.

Cream of Carrot Soup

Ingredients:

1/3 cup butter
1/2 cup chopped onion
2 cups carrot
3 cups of chicken soup base
1/2 cup long grain rice
1/2 tsp salt
1tsp thyme/basil (depending on your taste)
Add any herbs and spices that you like, this soup really takes on flavour and it's great if you want to add nutmeg or cloves for fall flavour.
2 cups milk

Sautee onions in butter until golden. Add carrot until coated with butter. Add soup base, herbs and rice, cover and simmer until carrots are tender. Add salt.  And puree (Usually I can do this in 3rds without it overflowing on me.  Put back in the pot, and add milk. Feel free to garnish with whatever fresh herbs you have around.

This soup is pretty filling.  The rice makes it more than just 'soup' (since my husband needs more than just soup for dinner) and I serve it with some garlic bread or fresh buns... YUM!

Enjoy!

Grace at my House

A good friend of mine and I read a book together last year.  We called each other once a week, and talked about what we read and what was going on in our lives. The book was called 'Grace based Parenting' by Dr. Tim Kimmel.  I recommend this book to all parents, but especially Christian parents as it really speaks on the basis that we, as parents, need to be able to show the same grace as our Father shows us, to our children.

I made this as a reminder that God has given us his grace so I can make mistakes, and so can my kids.

This Emotional Mama.

It doesn't take much to make me cry.  I am an emotional woman.  I cry over "Ontario" commercials, and "Our heritage" commercials.  I cry when my kids amaze me, and I cry when my kids upset me.  I cry when I think about my friends who live far away, and I cry when I think of my friends near by.

I cry.  A lot.

Two weeks ago I was feeling a little sick.  I was laying on the couch and talking to Miriam.  I was crying because I love her.  Lucy was sick too, and I cried because she loves me!

Last week, I went to sign Seth up for swimming.  I was concerned that his level would be full, and he wouldn't get to go, but there was one space left.  I almost cried.  *Almost - because there was a line-up of people behind me and I has to hold myself together.

After signing Seth up for swimming, and getting the final spot, Miriam asked to watch the kids who were swimming in their lessons, which you can do upstairs in the same building.  When we got upstairs there was figure skating sign-ups.  I asked Miriam if she would like to do it, and she answered with a resounding "YES!".  So I signed her up.

As we were leaving the pool/ice rink facility I told Miriam we would go buy her skates very soon.  She requested pink skates.  Knowing that I wasn't going to any fancy stores to purchase her first pair of figure skates, I told her that the skates would be white. She then requested 'PINK LACES!?!'
 There I was, sitting in my car, crying again.  I used to figure skate. I used to have white skates with pink laces. She really is MY daughter! (I know this, but she is so much like her father, it's SCARY!)

We bought her skates on Friday evening, but she fell asleep on the way home.  First thing in the morning she asked to put her skates on!

So she wandered around the house for about an hour with her new skates, with pink laces!

And finally, as many of you know, Seth played Rugby this year.  He finally found a sport that he likes!
Yesterday was their final festival of the year, so he got a medal and a trophy, and also scored 4 tries!

Again, I held back the tears because of a crowd, but I was just so proud!

Now, I think I have always been fairly emotional.  I had a little teddy koala bear when I was a pre-teen,  and teenager.  It fit nicely in the palm of my hand, and I remember using it to wipe my tears as I fell asleep at night sometimes.

And DON'T think that I am sad all the time.  I am really not!  But when I get all excited, and I'm ready to explode, I generally explode through my tear ducts.  I cry all the time, and I am ok with it, although I can start to see the panic in Seth's eyes if he sees me crying, which makes me laugh, and cry at the same time, which is really unattractive, as I wimper and snort and turn red.

My point is, if you aren't an emotional person you might never understand why a friend of yours cries all the time (especially men wondering this about wives)  but sometimes, us emotional, criers, just need a good cleansing cry to feel better!  It's ok, don't fear, don't run and hide, but do I understand the shock and panic that could overpower you to run the other direction!!

Are you an emotional person too?