Butterfly Effect and Consumerism - Post in Enough Stuff

Go here now. Click this link OR look over to the side and see it there in my "cool places" list.

But go. Now. Read.

http://enough-stuff.blogspot.com/

This stuff is important people! And Julie has a way of putting things.

It's really time to take the negative economic climate and turn it in to something thought-provoking and good on so many levels. We were getting crazy with the spending and the "stuff" and the toll on the environment, our pocket-books, AND the creation of the "must have" society. It's not too late for any of us, but especially the next generation.

So go and read it.

Oh. And don't forget Earth Hour on Saturday at 8:30 pm! (see post below!)

The Electric Company!

No, not the one that powers the lights.

The show. The show that ran from 1971 - 1977 and has been resurrected for today's kids.



Heyyyyy Youuuuuu Guyyyyyyys......


I remember the first go-round so well that when Sarah ran upstairs one Saturday morning to say "hey mom, there is a new show on TVO kids that is fun AND educational and you should come see it", I took one look at it and something whispered into the recesses of my mind "Electric Company". It had the feel. Notsomuch the look (it is after all 35 years later, I admit chokingly!)

Sure enough, within seconds, it identified itself.

Oh how I loved that show! So much that Hey You Guys was said (yelled in that gravelly voice) by me several dozen times a day. So much so that I never forgot that it was how Morgan Freeman, easily one of Hollywood's 25 Best Actors of All Time, got his start as Cool Cat. So much so that seeing the old show-opener online again after so many years brought back instant memories. I loved that show. I loved Sesame Street but would be equally excited when it ended and Electric Company came on.

Now, I know that the reason it's back is because once again the statistics show that early reading levels are at an all time low. And that's too bad. But on the other hand, the show helped once so I bet it will help again.

And it's just so darned funny and entertaining too! The main guy raps, another guy does beat box sounds and sounds of other kinds as well, they sing, and there is always a main story woven in to the "variety" show aspect. And well, we watched one episode together and Sarah knew from that moment on when a word had a "soft C" or a "hard C".

Now we have a standing date for 9:30 a.m on Saturday mornings. And I wouldn't miss it.

But to think that at first I actually told Sarah I was busy doing some "stuff around the house" until I looked at her little cherub face and saw that she was sad that I wouldn't take a look. I didn't want to be that mom. So I took her hand, expecting to go down into the family room and go "oh, yes, that's really good! I'm glad you found a new show to watch" and then go back to my chores. Instead, I got taken back, had a good chuckle, sat down on the futon and patted the seat beside me in invitation.

I highly recommend it. Sarah needs all the help she can get, and it appears to be working. But even for other kids, it's just fun. And funny. And it's problem-solving on so many levels.

So tune in! And enjoy! Sit down with the kids and be taken back. And well, you'll be sitting down with the kids instead of laundry or something else that prevents you from sitting down with the kids.

And then come back here and let me know what you (all) thought!

Have fun, "....youuuuuuuu guyyyyyyyyyys"

Here's the Facts, and nothin' but the Facts:

It's inevitable. We ARE going to be leaving this world. We are going to leave it, and whatever we mess we made WILL be left to the children. No ifs ands or buts about it. So here's the deal. If we CARE about our children, nieces and nephews, cousins, or friend's kids, then WE have a responsibility to do something about it while we can.

Last week I had a letter to the editor printed in the Metro newspaper, in response to an article written by a columnist about the proposed Wind Turbine project off the shore of Ashbridge's Bay in The Beach. Said columnist is against such an action by Ontario Hydro. She called the turbines "an eyesore" as well as an "ugly collection of industrial clutter." She said they should be put in some nice remote area. She said they were going to "mar" the lovely shoreline we've worked so hard to beautify in recent years. I got mad. Livid, in fact. I could not believe what I was reading. I couldn't fathom that this was a person who gave a single thought to what she had written, who was putting asthetics ahead of necessity. So here is what I said in response:

re: "Wind Farm Would be an Ugly Mistake" by April Lindgren, Jan. 30, 2009.

I can't believe what I am hearing.
First on 680 News and now reading in your paper.
Windmills as EYESORES??!?!?!?

I am SHOCKED and dismayed. Absolutely. It astounds me to read and hear such nonsense from people, who apparently and by all evidence have absolutely NO sense.

"Collection of ugly industrial clutter"? That will "haunt generations to come"? Apparently you have never traveled to Europe and seen windmill after windmill after windmill, dotting the landscape and sending the message that something is being attempted to save mother earth. Off the shoreline in Copenhagen they are ever-present. And NOT an eyesore. What are you thinking when you say these things? Do you honestly think they are so much more heinous to look at than the smoke stacks dotting the skyline and spewing their black toxins in to our city and water? It is time for us to realize that we are at the point in our evolution that we MUST seek alternatives to gas and oil. Harnessing what already exists in nature is not monstrous, it's beautiful. Let's please be responsible about this, and teach the children that these ideas are not something we "hide" in rural areas (since we're the power guzzlers right here), but something that we fit in to our lives right here, get used to, and see the benefit of. I say yes to wind turbines in my water. I'd much rather hear them than the hum of other types of electric generators. I'd rather see them than smoke-stacks. I hope so fervently that detractors come around. Our world depends on it.

I felt better after. A little.

But that's not the first time I have heard something of an environmental nature that has made my skin crawl. Friend Aaron over in Alma's Soulfood (see my sidebar for a link!) speaks of the many cities and towns that have outlawed clotheslines. Add to that the people I've heard say: "yeah, I don't want to see anyone's granny panties wavin' in the breeze while I'm sipping my morning coffee."

Or how about the people who think it's taking it too far if one adopts the "if it's brown, send it down, if it's yellow, leave it fellow" theory of toilet flushing? I mean REALLY. I keep my toilet bowls clean. But I don't need to send 10 litres of water down there every time James has one of his teensy wee boy pees. Do I?

I am not entirely there. I have some issues with cleaners (as in, use powerful, stinky ones. Have an impossible-to-keep-clean kitchen floor that I am after CONSTANTLY, and I have to let go of the idea that powerful smell equals powerful clean). But I am letting go, slowly. I don't use fabric softener anymore. I use cool or cold water to wash, and I air-dry lots. I fill up the machine. We use the dishwasher only a couple of times a week. I try to buy less packaging and I recycle everything allowable. I've taken to pulling tissues out of the garbage. I use old tea towels to clean my windows and dust, not swiffers or paper towel. I buy the large rolls of toilet tissue and teach the kids to use less of it. I talk about turning the lights off in rooms not in use, as well as not letting the water run for any length of time.

I know I am not doing enough and that I could be doing more. But I DO think of myself as a "green" person, so if I can admit that I am NOT doing enough, then what are the people who aren't nearly as green as me doing? Not their share, that's for sure. Not enough for their kids or grandkids. Not enough considering that each of us in this part of the world has created something like 5 tonnes of garbage PER PERSON.

I dunno. Maybe it's just me. But seems to me if you're going to make some of the mess, you gotta clean some of it up. I mean, isn't that what we teach the kids? You make a mess, you clean it. You make a mistake, you own it. You do something wrong, you work to make it right. So why all the hypocrites? You think this world owes you something? Because my dear, sad, friend, it owes you NOTHING. It's given you water and sunshine and nice things to eat and see and smell. It's sustained you and yours for generations. It's held up your home and car and given you a job (in my case, literally. My own juxtaposition is caring about an environment when the industry I work in rapes the moraine on a daily basis!) It owes YOU nothing, friend. You owe IT your life.

So my challenge is for each of us to do a tiny bit extra this week. Something we wouldn't normally do. Then in a month or so, add something else. And so forth until you're living greener. Use vinegar to clean the windows. Use baking soda to clean the sink. Use less paper towels and napkins.

Aha! Eureka, I just thought of my contribution. My kids are rabid napkin users. I am going to go home and drag out 8 linen napkins, and we're going to use those at supper time. I have them in my drawer! I might as well make use of them!

What's your contribution, dear reader?

I woke up in the rain....

......the rumble of thunder reverberated through the ground under me. Another flash. Lightening seemed to burn in to my eyes. As consciousness seeped in to my being, I realized I was wet - my back, my legs. Oh damn, the tent has a hole in it!!

The deep feeling of loneliness grew more palpable with the knowledge that my safe haven was against me. So much for the idea of running away to the wilderness to collect my thoughts, have some peace, do some reading and writing, and give myself a good stern talking to. Now it seemed obvious that The Plan would have to be abandoned and I would have to go home. My heart sunk.

No one was there. Wouldn't be for another 5 days. My time away was to have been double that. It was part of the deal. There wasn't money enough for me to get a room for all that time. And that was contrary to the whole idea of me getting away to collect myself. To find myself. To take many deep breaths in order to steel myself to continue to live my life.

No one was around. Not a soul within hearing distance. And who would hear me if I did have a much-desired tantrum? Who would hear against the raging patter of sheets of cold rain? Against the wind that threatened to tear the tent from over me? More lightening. I jumped. The tears began to flow freely down my cheeks and I didn't bother to wipe them away or blow my nose. I wallowed self-pityingly. Why not? It WAS unfair! I had worked for MONTHS on this plan. Had practically threatened that if it didn't come to fruition something more drastic was bound to happen. I finally got my way. And yet......now it was crashing down around me, my plan to reclaim my grip on my life.

I yelled. And yelled. And screamed. And cursed. And threw anything dry back into my back pack. Got dressed hastily. Grabbed my cash and the most valuable of my belongings. My car keys. Put on my rain jacket, a baseball cap, and steeled myself for the onslaught of water that would hit as I ran to the car. My more logical self tried to calm me, to make me wait at least until the rain wasn't coming down so hard; but I wouldn't listen. I was inconsolable and stubborn. And completely bereft of a plan......

In Answer to a Puzzle.

Not that it matters to me. It really doesn't. I don't care one wit who the new US President, Barack Obama, calls his God, or even if he has one.

But.

Detractors of his have said that he is "Muslim born and raised." Thinking that to be untrue, I looked into it. And I read that while his father was born into a Muslim household in Kenya, he himself (Barack Sr.) had rejected all religion before going to the US in the '60s for University. So, unless Barack Obama's (Jr.) mother was Muslim, seems that he wasn't raised Muslim.

So I found this on Wikipedia, confirmed by other reliable on-line sources, like Time:

"Obama is a Protestant Christian whose religious views have evolved in his adult life. In The Audacity of Hope, Obama writes that he "was not raised in a religious household." He describes his mother, raised by non-religious parents (whom Obama has specified elsewhere as "non-practicing Methodists and Baptists") to be detached from religion, yet "in many ways the most spiritually awakened person that I have ever known." He describes his father as "raised a Muslim," but a "confirmed atheist" by the time his parents met, and his stepfather as "a man who saw religion as not particularly useful." In the book, Obama explains how, through working with black churches as a community organizer while in his twenties, he came to understand "the power of the African-American religious tradition to spur social change."^[196][197] He was baptized at the Trinity United Church of Christ in 1988 and was an active member there for two decades."

That seems to explain it all. So while Obama discovered religion as a young adult, he did so on his own, and I guess it so happens that it was Protestantism. Not that it matters.

Because, so what if he HAD been Muslim?

I don't know that it matters. Except that if he were Muslim, that would spell even more trouble for him in areas where he remains somewhat unpopular. So in that case, I guess you could say it's a "good thing". Not that I want to say that.....but I hope readers know what I mean when I do.

But really, I long for the days when it isn't going to matter; when people aren't going to panic at the word "Muslim". Imagine - there WAS a time (and for that matter, still is on occasion) when even Catholics and Protestants (both Christian, too) lived in hate and fear of each other. Seems impossible to think of now, but it was once the norm everywhere. And yeah, even in my own lifetime I have heard such generalizations as "you know, those Irish-Catholics" and the like. But those get to be fewer and farther between, at least in my part of the world.

Hopefully, one day we'll get to a comfortable place with such "scary" words as "Islam" and "Muslim" and even "Middle East". One day it won't matter. I just hope, for the sake of the kids, that it's in this generation.

I like to remember (and sometimes, yes, even need to remind myself) that there are "bad guys" of all races, colours, religions, sexes, and sizes. There are people ALL over this great world of ours that are twisted. Some use religion as a crutch or excuse to resort to violence. Some use their hate of women, or children, or the poor (or even, in some cases, the rich).

The thing is, Barack Obama is one of those Heinz 57s, like a great many of us who live in North America. Yes, it's important that one half of that is African, just like it's important that he was raised in a white family and had to deal with the difference and confusion therein of his skin tone, that he had to find his identity in his own way, come to terms with who he is, and become comfortable in his own skin. It's all part of what made the man the incredible human being that he is. Part of what made him so strong and sure. And what the world needs is a leader of a country like the U.S. that is strong and sure. Of himself and of his convictions. And I believe Mr. Obama to be that person.

It's an amazing time we live in, and I hope for the sake of the children (mine, Barack and Michelle's, indeed everyone's) that it goes well and successfully. So many people have hinged a great deal of hopes onto his strong shoulders, so it just HAS to go alright.

So I have a wish. I tend to wish big via simplicity. A simple wish goes something like this: I wish that in 30 years time I am driving somewhere and hear on the radio some cute fluff news item about Obama being spotted on vacation or making some public appearance somewhere. It's a simple wish, but it actually takes care of a lot of niggling details. And I wish it more than anything right now. You know, for the kids. Mine, his, yours, and all those inner-city youth everywhere who walk around saying - and believing - Yes We Can.

And can we overcome whether or not a person's chosen or birthright religion is important? I believe that yes, we can.

My Wishes for the Year Ahead. I wish:

I wish that there didn't have to be such peaks and valleys in this life.
It ought to be that a good run can last a good long time; so good in fact, that you actually get bored and find yourself wishing for something else. Something challenging, some kind of puzzle to work out, something to overcome. Instead, it seems like most of life is a challenge, exhausting you to the bitter core, a mental and physical bashing that takes so long to recover from that you MISS the peaks....so:

I wish that the peaks would last longer.
It should be that you can, with pure joy, grasp each moment of a child's development. Instead, you catch pieces here and there and as they get bigger, taller, smarter. The time flies so much so that when you're cuddling in the early hours of the day, you notice that his hand seems to have grown so big and so strong and so capable overnight. You hold that little hand, knowing it won't be little for long. You have a moment, willing and wishing to always recollect how he feels in the crook of your arm, his little big head heavy on you but seeming to fit perfectly. You know that you can't remember all the moments, but you long to hold on to this one.....so:

I wish our memory banks were bigger.
There were all kinds of memories of when Sarah was small and learning that I wish I could get back. But life got so busy with each new development, then another new being to nurture and remember, and constant sleep-deprivation, that the stores you have deep inside your mind start to spill over and disappear. One at a time those memories are replaced by something else. A new memory of Sarah saying or doing something precious replaces one from when she was smaller. You want to keep them all but can't. You wish you could have BOTH memories instead of just one and all those pin numbers and passwords you need to recall at a moment's notice.....so:

I wish my brain wasn't so full of passwords and pin-numbers.
I can remember my bank card number. And my passwords for all my online activities. And my password for work. I have at least 20 phone numbers in my head at the ready on a moment's notice. I have most of my home administrative responsibilities tucked under my hat somewhere. I have the details of my job tucked in there too. The learning curve of parenting is sometimes more steep than that of an evolving career path. You wish that more of your mental energy could go to being ever-present in your home life, but that's not possible in this day and age. There is simply too much infinite and infatessimal information stored, and not enough first words or comprehensions of the people you most want to remember. So there ought to be two storage areas; one for the numbers and codes and administrative mumbo-jumbo, and one for the "moments" you wish to treasure always, and recollect easily when the valley is at it's deepest. Like when you're worried about one of those little people.....so:

I wish that there were no such thing as learning disabilities.
That's a toughie. But honestly. Everyone should be "smart" and teachable. You should begin life with an infinite ability to learn and then how much and how fast and how well you learn becomes a "nurture" versus "nature" thing. None of this sheer inability to learn because your brain won't or can't do it. Sarah can NOT draw a diagonal line without a guide. Cannot. Can you imagine not being able to print an N or a K or a V? She cannot. N's are much better for her because it starts with a straight line and ends with a straight line. But the K? Leave those two diagonal lines floating there? Her brain cannot comprehend it. Cannot do it. V? And W can only be accomplished with rounded bottoms and straight lines. It looks like a W. But a V looks like a U. Sarah can read the word "and" 50 times in a row and know it. Then she can go away for a five minute break, come back, and not know the word "and". She doesn't understand that me just telling her not to put her mittens on the wet ground means that really she ought to stop putting her mittens on the wet ground, or that I just explained that singing into her brother's ear isn't a good thing because it can damage them means she should stop doing that. She needs to be told. Each step. And many times. Add to that the fact that she's at the age where they can start to formulate their own opinions and will therefore fight for what they believe to be all that is good and just and fair in the world, and what you can often get is a non-comprehending, argumentative, and often confused girl. So banish the learning disabilities. None. Everyone gets a good strong brain and if it's fed properly, then everyone gets to understand how to read and do numbers and print and concentrate on their work. What makes learning disabilities so hard is that the child appears in every way normal. So there is less patience for their behaviours because if they do something socially unacceptable, they aren't in some way disabled, they are "weird". So.....

I wish that people would stop telling me there is nothing wrong with my sweet girl and just accept that there IS something wrong with her and cut her some slack.
That is a big wish. But it is part of what's making me feel down today. Valley-ish. The peak was Saturday and it was a beautiful family day in so many ways. But it ended on a low note (I mean, the very last half hour of it, so not enough to ruin it). Then Sunday dawned on a low note and was pretty much a struggle. Then there was homework and it dawned on me - as it often dawns on me as if I were JUST comprehending the scope of her disabilities for the first time - that this child has many complex and serious issues that will dog her for her entire life. I don't like that I can't clear her mind and make her think like the mainstream of society. I don't like that something, some actual EVENT, happened during her development to "injure" her white matter so that she cannot traverse the seamless world of abstract thought to concrete, that she cannot go from right brain to left brain thoughts and ideas, that she can't see that some of her more "quirky" behaviours are going to set her apart. I can't chase it away and that's what I really want more than anything....so:

I wish that my Christmas gifts could all be traded for the ability to make Sarah "better" and for me to be able to remember their growing and their words and the laughter with incredible clarity.
I wish it. I don't need tops or pants or "stuff". But I DO need to remember holding James' hand this morning, cuddling Sarah to warm her up, sleeping with her on my chest, her crossing her arms to proclaim "no flair!", James wanting to say grace and thanking God for "food, milk, and hot sauce", Sarah hiding in the leaves and waiting for daddy to get home to surprise him, James playing his musical instruments in time with the music on the radio, Sarah proclaiming "this is Roxanne" from the first bar of the song by The Police. Her compassion, his passion. Her ability to nurture, his comprehension. Her easy-going nature, his fierce independence. God, I wish I could retain it all. And banish the wall in Sarah's brain that prevents so much daily ability.

But.
Some of my wishes have come true already.

I have two beautiful children who are powerful in each their own ways.
I have a home I love, even if there are ways I'd like to improve it.
I have the ability to get around, and the good fortune to be able to take care of the children's needs.
I have a good job and wonderful colleagues to spend one-third of my life with. I am blessed to be challenged in my job and to be doing what I really like to do.
I have a good extended family, even if I wish some of them could understand the challenges a little better.
I have my health. I am strong enough to lug those kids around when they need me physically.
I have my stamina. I can outrun them. Even if it exhausts me, which it mostly does.
I have the future, and the everlasting optimism that the next peak will be better than the last and that the valleys will not be deep and will be easy to traverse.
I have friends. I feel love from unexpected places and that helps to buoy me through the deeper valleys.
I love. Some people can't. But I can. And that is the greatest gift.

There are wishes. There are always wishes. But there are also wishes granted. I will try to be mindful....so:

I wish I could remember that there were wishes I wished that have come true. I remembered in writing this. I hope YOU remember in reading it.

Thanks for stopping by. Merry Christmas....
I WISH it for you.

What is a Mommy to do?

Last night I bawled.

A full out cry-fest.

Was I feeling sorry for myself, or what?

I'd been grumpy with the kids. Was very tired, and it is a lot of work doing the whole swim lesson thing with them. But I managed, got home, scrambled up some eggs, and then set to cleaning up the kitchen a bit.

But I was tired. Sarah wanted me to read; I needed to clean. I grumped at her. Then I was sorry for it. I apologized, left some of my tasks, and then went in to read to her in the living room. I apologized for my behaviour and explained that I was especially tired. Crisis averted.

We read and I calmed down. Then James asked me for help with the magna doodle. He had been making shapes and calling them out. I had chuckled with the "guare, shirckle, and shriakle" attempts as he was "colouring". But now he wanted to use the magna-pen. So I got down on the floor and traced his hand for him. Then together we printed J A M E S above it. I asked what that said and he said "Jayyymesh".

What was that???

"Jaymesh".

Oh no! No! No, James no! You did not just say "James"!


He did. And then he did 5 more times, giggling everytime it tickled off his tongue. I was devestated. Pure, tragic, horrible, world-altering forever devestation!!!

My baby is gone. My baby who has always called himself "Beash", is gone. No longer "Beash", this "Jaymesh" is ready to take on the world. He is confidant and brash. He is strong and smart. He gets the step-stool from the bathroom, turns on the light, and then returns the stool to it's spot. He wore one pull-up all day yesterday. He wants to do up his "beat belt" himself. He knows his numbers and letters and colours and shapes. He wants to go on Sarah's school bus. He no longer calls his little friend "Bellbee" - it's now "Shelby" clear as a bell.

And he rides a trike like a real pro, and always wants to go "fasser, mom! Beash go fasser."

This morning, James seemed to be back to "Beash". But when I dropped him off this morning and told Kit the story, she nodded knowingly. She sang a song and at the end the child calls out his or her name: James said "Jaymesh."

I said, "well, I am going to my car now to have another cry."

I didn't, but I think I could have. It's not that he's growing. That is wonderful and magical. It's that it's happening SO FAST. Out of my control. They grow and we can't stop time, not for a minute. I try to capture the little moments, but days are so full. So much to do to care for two children and try to hold down a job at the same time. You wish some of the moments away because you're so tired. I almost did that last night by sending Sarah away with her book.

I am glad I slowed down. But my reward: My baby says his name.

Slow the world down, someone, won't you? I want to get off, and take my kids with me! Just for a couple of years!

Hug your kids, nieces, nephews, husbands, wives, friends, coworkers. Look at them. Tomorrow they will be somehow different. In most cases better. But different. Love them for who they are today.

And cherish the moments.

I love you all, good readers.

k