Parenting Lesson # 1

I've been thinking today how, as parents, we all learn so much from the experience. I figured it might be a good idea to chronicle some of the lessons that I learn along the way, based on my own experiences. You know, for future reference. And who knows -- I might just save a few of my fellow parents the pain and humiliation of learning some of these same lessons the hard way.

Parenting Lesson # 1

NEVER assume that you've got your act together. Because the very moment you do, the universe will find a way to laugh in your face.


This morning I came with the hairbrained lovely idea of taking the girls downtown on the bus, across the harbour on the ferry, to the library. It was a lovely day for a ferry ride after all, and we hadn't been to the library in a while; it had been a year since we'd been to this particular branch. Brilliant plan! I am a genius!

Today was one of those rare days when I was pretty well-organized. I made a mental list and checked things off. Items to return, check. Water, check. Sunscreen, check. Hats, check. Library cards, check. Bus fare, check. Snacks, check. Yep, for once, I had it all. I'd even made sure that everyone had gone to the bathroom beforehand and that we'd left the house for the bus stop in plenty of time. Oh yeah, baby. I had my act together. No doubt about it.

However, one rather crucial item I'd forgotten on that mental list was "panty check". Mo has loved going commando ever since she was potty trained last summer. In fact, she rarely wears underwear at all. She also has a deep and profound love of wearing skirts and dresses, when she wears anything at all. Around the house, it's no big deal. Hell, even on a playdate with friends, I could really care less if my 3 year old's dress flaps up in the wind to reveal her sun-kissed butt cheeks. In fact, Molly has one little friend that routinely joins her in stripping from the waist down so they can jump on the couch together. But bare-assed on public transit? I don't think so.

We were waiting at the bus stop and I was sunscreening the girls when I happened to pat Molly on the butt to discover no panty line. Eeesh.

"Honey, are you wearing undies?"

She giggled, grinning from ear to ear. "Nope." She'd pulled one over on me. She hates wearing underwear.

Ah, crap. I considered my options for a moment. It was too late to run home and grab some. If we missed this bus it would be another half hour until the next one, and the morning was already wearing on. Screw it. Her dress was long enough that it shouldn't be much of a problem. I decided to chance it.

Mostly, it was fine. I did observe that she liked crouching down on the ferry to feel the breeze blow up her dress. Heh. That's something I'd almost like to try for myself. I'm sure it's quite a free and refreshing sensation. We did run into a bit of trouble on the bus on the way home, when Molly sat back in her seat and threw her legs up in the air, squealing and giggling. I quickly yanked her dress down over her knees, but not before the lady across the aisle got a good gander and then shot me a disgusted look.

Jeez, woman, she's three! Haven't you ever known a three year old with nudist tendencies? Hell, I might be good, but even supermoms like me fumble the ball now and again. Heh.

Sigh.

Some days I'm pretty convinced that I've got this parenting thing all under control. I've got the world by the ass, baby! Other days? It's abundantly clear that even after 5 years, and two kids, I still don't know shit from shinola.

But at least I now know to always keep an extra pair of undies in my purse.

Working On It

My husband is jumping for joy. My quest for a more organized and clutter-free life has finally, finally led me to the pit of despair basement.

We've got this great room in our basement that's not big enough for anything more than just storage. A long time ago Chris built these great shelves for it - sturdy enough to stow away lots of dead bodies heavy items if need be. The problem with our storage room is that since moving in well over 3 years ago, that room has been the handy-dandy catch-all for everything from bags of outgrown baby clothes to birthday decorations to art projects to all kinds of crap items that we didn't know what to do with. Tell me, people, what's the point of a storage room if it's so full there's no room to actually store anything in it?

Over the years, we've been casually pecking away at it. I move things around, get rid of a tiny bit of stuff, and then stop. A few months later we're always back to the same old place - barely space to put down my feet as I step over boxes and bags and whatever else gets chucked in there.

Our neighbours moved out recently (yes, those neighbours), and before they left, they gave us some great shelving with adjustable tracks. Chris installed those a few days ago, and I spent Friday afternoon working on the storage room. I'm being particularly ruthless in my culling, as I realize that having all this "stuff" hanging around isn't doing us any good. I also spent a great deal of time organizing the things that we are going to keep, and putting them in labeled boxes. Things like craft supplies for the kids, kid painting supplies, gift wrapping supplies, extra stationary, blah blah blah. The room is finally starting to take shape.

I still have a lot of work to do down there, but it finally feels do-able, not the overwhelming torturous task that it's seemed like all these years. It's also so freeing to get rid of "stuff" - I never realized how much it seems to weigh me down. My spirit feels lighter already. And still have a whole lot more to get rid of.

Next stop after the storage room: The workshop.

Maybe. I'm not sure how masochistic I'm feeling this week.

Life

Sometimes life seems to stay the same, on and on...then other times it moves at the speed of light, and changes so quickly that one day barely resembles the day before.

I look at my girls sometimes and I am shocked by the passage of time. I think back fondly to when Emma was an infant; all those lazy mornings cuddling in bed with her, enjoying her squirms and grins and giggles and desperately hoping that she would fall asleep again. It never occurred to me to really enjoy those moments, because they would be gone in the blink of an eye.

I'm feeling the need lately to slow down and enjoy every single second with these girls that I have; days like today will be over before I know it. I want to look back and see a life full of fond memories, rather than wishing I had the opportunity to do it all over again -- only differently this time.

I've only got one life, don't I? I need to enjoy it. I need to love as hard as I can. I need to appreciate the blessings that I have. I need to let those around me know how much they mean to me, and I need to learn how to be comfortable inside myself.

Some days this seems like a pretty tall order. Fortunately, today, it does not.

David Suzuki on The Carbon Tax

I get a regular newsletter from the David Suzuki Foundation. I'll admit that I don't *always* read it, but this week's topic caught my attention. I liked it so much, I thought I'd post it here.

Oh - and by the way - I agree 100% with what he has to say. I firmly believe that while there are some people out there who will change because "it's the right thing to do", the vast majority of people aren't going to change until it hits them where it really hurts - the wallet. And let's face it, those of us who are environmentally conscious also save ourselves money - hanging clothes on the clothesline, turning down the hot water tank, turning off unnecessary lights, turning down the heat in the wintertime.

Bring on the carbon tax. I'm ready for it.

* * * * *

Let’s clear the air on carbon taxes

I admit: we aren’t 100 per cent sure that human activity is causing global warming. So let’s all go home in our SUVs and join an "axe the tax" campaign. Come to think of it, we aren’t sure that our houses will be robbed, flooded, or burned to the ground, so let’s cancel our home insurance while we’re at it.

After all, the vast majority of the world’s climate scientists will only admit to being 90 per cent certain that our carbon emissions are causing global warming on such a scale that we face global catastrophe if we fail to change our ways. If nine out of 10 doctors said your child needed an immediate operation, would you wait until all 10 agreed? James Hansen, a leading climate expert who raised the alarm about global warming to the U.S. Congress 20 years ago, says he’s 99 per cent sure, but that’s still not 100 per cent, so why should we pay more by way of a carbon tax to address a problem that may not exist?

True, a report prepared by M.K. Jaccard and Associates for the David Suzuki Foundation titled Pricing Carbon: Saving Green argued persuasively that a carbon tax is an effective tool for bringing emissions down, and governments, scientists, and economists around the world agree, but what if they’re wrong? Never mind that countries such as Sweden, which implemented a carbon tax in 1991, have proven such measures are effective and that they actually produce economic benefits; why should we change if we don’t have to? Rising gas prices due to global market forces are already hitting us hard enough; why should we add to the misery?

Consider this: If the industry shills and their followers are right and global warming is not the threat we think it is, and we act anyway, the oil will still be there for future use and we’ll also have cleaner air and greater innovation in green technologies – along with stronger economies. If the majority of the world’s climate scientists are right and we fail to act, we face ecological, social, and economic catastrophe on a scale beyond anything we’ve experienced in modern times.

Consider also that carbon taxes such as B.C.’s and the one the federal Liberals have proposed are actually tax shifts. The money collected from individuals, businesses, and industry will be returned in the form of cuts to personal and business taxes. The 2.4 cents a litre increase in gas prices that is one small part of the B.C. tax is minuscule compared to market increases, and the tax may help us move away from continued reliance on increasingly scarce and costly fossil fuels.

Whether it’s called a tax shift, a revenue-neutral tax, or a new tax, it will get people worked up. No one likes taxes, but we like roads and schools and hospitals and police services, so we pay them. We also pay about $90 a tonne to put garbage into landfills, so why are we so concerned about having to pay to put garbage into the air?

Politicians have two powerful instruments to influence behaviour: regulation and taxation. In the mindless mantra of anti-taxation groups, taxes are bad and we should always cut and never increase them. The ludicrous aspect is that these groups are silent about the enormous taxpayer subsidies to fossil-fuel and related industries that make windfall profits while resisting even a small tax hike.

Together with measures such as a cap-and-trade program, a carbon tax can use money from industries that are not energy-efficient to create economic benefits and incentives for those that that are wiser in their energy use. The income generated by a carbon tax can be used to cut income taxes, build more public transit, upgrade trains, develop renewable-energy sources, and retrofit homes and buildings with energy-efficient technology.

For 20 years, scientists have warned of the need for urgent action to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Leading economists have shown that the cost to bring emissions down will be about one per cent of GDP annually, while the costs incurred if we don’t reduce emissions could be economically catastrophic.

When politicians, business people, and citizens show leadership by proposing or implementing solutions to the very real problems facing the planet (yes, more than 90 per cent certain is as real as it gets in science), they deserve our support, not mockery and politically motivated misinformation. Axe the tax, my ass!

www.davidsuzuki.org

Goodbye, Old Friend

When Chris and I moved into our current house 3 1/2 years ago, we didn't know any of our neighbours. We moved in December, and what with it being winter, and with the holidays, we didn't really get the opportunity to get to know anyone for the first few months. We also didn't really get to know our surroundings all that well, either.

I'll never forget that morning in January when I first took real notice of the vehicle sitting in the parking space right in front of our house....



I'll admit that I'm sometimes not much of an observant person, and what with all the unpacking, settling in, dealing with a 1 1/2 year old, very energetic Emma, and being about 7 months pregnant with Molly, I didn't pay the car much attention. However, on that fateful January morning, the first morning I distinctly remember taking notice of the car, there was no ignoring it.

I was sitting on my couch, I believe watching the morning news, in front of my living room window when I heard the roar of an engine start. Was it an airplane circling too low? A tractor? My windows began rattling and my couch vibrating, ever so slightly. The garbage truck? The world's biggest lawnmower?

I peered anxiously out my window, and feasted my eyes upon the Jeep, being warmed up on that cold January morning. I snickered a bit to myself and went back to the news. It wasn't until I could smell the exhaust through my CLOSED WINDOW that I became concerned...and the vehicle was then forever dubbed by our family as "The Ozone Eater".

Imagine the hilarity that ensued when I finally started getting to know the neighbours that owned the vehicle, and learned that the hubby was a lawyer, who specialized in environmental law. I wondered to myself how David Suzuki might feel about that.

In 3 1/2 years we got to know our neighbours pretty well. They were great people to live next to - the kind of neighbour you could call up and ask to borrow some basil or an egg right at dinnertime, trade child-watching services, share a bottle of wine with at the last minute, and just generally count on in a crunch. We've teased them mercilessly about the Ozone Eater, which has been defended with a "But we don't even drive it anymore! How can it possibly be damaging the ozone layer?"

Yes, not long after that January morning, they acquired another vehicle, a much prettier mini-van, that they used to transport their family. And so the Ozone Eater sat, unattended, in our back parking lot, a lovely eyesore conversation piece for our little co-op, ensuring tight parking jobs for the neighbours, reduced play area for the kids, and more than a few muttered curse words.

But at least we got to make fun of it. It's not like we didn't have tons of characteristics to pick on...

Ah, yes. Note the weather-faded paint, deflated tires, and peeling wood paneling. Rumour has it that my children may have helped that peeling along a bit, but I'll never tell. Heh.

A short time ago, our neighbours packed up their lives to move across the country. We were sad to see them go, because not only were they good neighbours, but they were good friends, too. After all, they took our merciless jokes with good humour. The only thing that I had to comfort myself with was the knowledge that the Ozone Eater would not be here for much longer, either.

They sold it.

Yes, it's absolutely true. There was actually one other person on this planet who thought that the Jeep was as beautiful as my former neighbours, enough to pay them money for it. Real money. I thought maybe he was going to trade them for some worn out wool socks and a bag of M & M's, but nope, it was cash. Apparently, this man collects and re-furbishes jeeps, just like this one. Good news for the dude - he's got lots to keep him busy.

One night, a few weeks ago, the tow truck arrived, to escort the Ozone Eater away (because Lord knows it couldn't make it there on it's own power). Heh.

My neighbour and I stood together in the parking lot as they loaded up the Jeep and drove away, both of us with tears in our eyes. Hers, for all the memories wrapped up in "that majestic vehicle" (her words), and the reality of their move finally sinking in completely. And mine?

Quietly contained joy.



Our neighbours are gone, now, too. It was sad to see them go, and they will very much be missed by all of us.

But at least we will always have something to remember them by.

Ten Years Ago Today....

Ten years ago this very day was one of the most terrifying and yet happiest days of my lives.

Ten years ago I met Chris - in person. We'd known each other online for a couple of months, and on July 2, 1998, he came to the city I was living in so we could finally meet "for real".

Ten years ago, I found out that the man (boy, really) I'd been talking to for the last two months really was the person that he'd made himself out to be.

Ten years ago, although I wasn't entirely sure of it, my life began down a completely different path, a path that we have been on together ever since.

Ten years ago, I looked into a pair of beautiful brown eyes and allowed myself to fall completely in love.

And ten years later, I love him still.

Jack Johnson - "If I Had Eyes"

What day isn't improved with a little Jack Johnson??