What Do You Stand For?

I've had the song Some Nights by Fun. stuck in my head all week. My sister's had it stuck in her head for months. Hence why it's probably stuck in my head now. Cause she made me start listening to it.
If you haven't heard: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQkBeOisNM0&feature=branded

Anyway, song lyrics don't usually get under my skin and stay there...I've had a few songs 'wake me up', so to speak, in the past... But there's one line in the song where he shouts "What do I stand for?" and when you're singing along as passionately as he's performing, you start to ask yourself that question:

What DO I stand for?...

It's easy enough to pump your fist in the air and say "Save the Whales!", but is that REALLY what YOU stand for?
In a room of a thousand judging eyes, what would you unabashedly stand up to support?

I stand up for anti-smoking. I think it's the worst thing a human can do to themselves. Slow and painful suicide.
I stand up for breastfeeding education and awareness. People are free to have their opinions, as long as you are well educated on both sides of the platform. Breastfeeding in public is no different than someone pulling out a bottle to give to a crying child, if you have been educated enough to not see something perverse.
I stand up for books. Old books, new books....Red books, blue books. Reading books to your child from a young age gets them to understand language at an earlier age and encourages a love and success of reading, which in turn makes it easier to cope with school, and enjoy it.
I stand up for food. Good food. Market vegetables and local meat. Farmers feed cities, and all to often they don't get the credit they deserve.
I stand up for marriage equality. Just... seriously, why is it even an issue? Nobody asked YOU to marry someone of the same sex...
I stand up for respect. Respect for people's feelings. Respect for public property. Respect for elders. Respect for children.
I stand up for art. Art does more to focus the mind of a child than most people give credit for. Art is therapy. Art is joy. Art is learning. Art is playing. Art is thought provoking. Art is essential.
I stand up for enlarged recycling programs. On a warming planet with depleting supplies, finding new ways to re-use our waste is essential.

What do you stand up for?

Full Time Job

I got the job almost four years ago.
It sounded great on paper, but then I was having second thoughts.
I showed up for my first day anyway, because I said I would.
Most of it was a blur.
Nothing in the job description indicated how much time and effort was actually involved.
The long hours and lack of pay made me wonder what kind of idiot would ever show up for a job like this.
Then I realized, that's exactly why the job description doesn't tell you the hard stuff.
It promises fulfillment and pride, but fails to mention the exhaustion and pain.
It took a long time reading reviews from others in the same line of work to uncover the truth.
Your friends ask you to join them for dinner.
You decline because you have to work.
You curse the phone that rings at 9am after you've finished a night shift.
Then suddenly the three-month probation period is up.
I haven't been fired.
And actually feel like I'm getting a grip on things.
The one year anniversary of employment brings about a twinge of that 'Pride' they spoke about.
The job feels easier until I'm thrown a whole new set of instructions.
Company procedures have changed.
It's like that first day all over again.
But with the new duties, comes the occasional time off.
The night shifts get fewer and further between.
Sleep gets caught up and I begin to have fun in this position.
People often ask what I do for work and I shrug and say I'm unemployed.
Sometimes they smile back and say they know very well that I work full-time.
Doing what?
It seems like a whole host of things...
I am a nurse.
I am a comedian.
I am a taxi driver.
I am an accountant.
I am a custodian.
I am a coach.
I am a teacher.
I am a guidance councilor.
I am a therapist.
I am a mediator.
I am a personal shopper.
I am a personal chef.
I am a nutritionist.
I am a superhero.
I am a mom.

Check your Privilege

I was reading a few posts, on a sharing site I'm on, about 'checking your privilege' and it's made me think a lot about the stereotypes we use, even sub-consciously, and why.

A Privilege is defined as "A right, immunity, or benefit enjoyed by a person or group beyond the advantages of most."

Privileges include: Class privilege, Educational privilege, Gender privilege, Age privilege, Able-bodied privilege, Religious privilege and Sexuality privilege.

Basically this means that generally people of higher education or class tend to look down on or mock under-educated people. Men often get more business advantages than women. Certain advantages and allowances are made available based on your age. Able-bodied people often get more advantages even if a non-able-bodied person is more qualified. Sub-standard religious groups get mocked or shunned by more dominant groups. Straight couples get more benefits than same-sex couples in most countries or cases.

The phrase 'Check your privilege' reminds you to think about where you fit in before judging others.

Some extended examples in the post I read included a reference to some vegans or vegetarians turning up their nose at people who eat meat products. Eating that way doesn't mean you care more about the environment or the planet than other people, it means you can afford more restrictive food and have the time to prepare it.

I find that in a way this also relates to how we view parents and parenting styles 'from across the room'.
I've been guilty, numerous times, of quietly smirking or criticizing when I see someone trying to corral a tantruming toddler. I've wrinkled my nose at the single moms who congregate in front of local businesses.
It's easy to say "Well I would have done it like this" when you're not in that situation.

Maybe it's hard to relate that to 'privilege', but in some ways you can.
Sneer all you want at the mom who feeds their kid non-organic food - but maybe they can't afford it.
Shake your head sadly at the parent who can't keep their kid under control in Wal-mart - but maybe they're all hungry and haven't been sleeping well because of their neighbours.
Whisper behind your hands about the assumed promiscuity of the single mom - but maybe it wasn't her choice, or maybe it WAS, for the safety of her family.

My eyes have certainly been opened the last few years in regards to who I thought I'd be as a parent and who I am. They've been opened with regards to how I look at single parents. They've been opened to how many/few wheelchair accessible buildings and businesses there are (from the stroller pushing years). They've been opened to how difficult it is to listen to you child cry all day and not be able to do anything about it, and how easy it can be to loose your temper in public because all you want to do is go home and sleep.

Being loved is a human right, but living in a house with a loving family is a privilege.
Don't turn away from people because they can't afford what you have, but don't act like a saviour to them either.
Don't pity the single parent, lend a supporting arm and treat them as an equal.
We are all raising children. We all know what poopy diapers and lost sleep and endless crying can do to a person. We are all trying to do what's best, without a clue what we are doing.
And at the end of the day, we are all human.

Tall Tales

This is kind of an update post, which I don't normally do. I just feel like things keep happening and then suddenly the month is gone and I haven't blogged.

Toby's new thing is telling stories. Not in the sense of  "One day a little girl walked through the woods..."
No, these stories are immense exaggerations of daily events, or stories that other people have told him.
He spoke non-stop for 15 minutes one day when we were int he car about the farm he had 'when he was a boy' and that he had horses and cows and (OH YES!) sheep and chickens. And that the chickens were crowing and crowing for their water because it was very hot and they were thirsty. and there were two cats that were black and orange just like ours.
He'll tell me how a long time ago when he was a baby he built his bed.
He'll tell me how he used to carry me when I was a baby.

...Part of me is thinking... past lives?.. you hear of kids telling these stories about things that they can't possibly know at their age.
..And part of me is thinking... you need to stop exaggerating before you end up telling some kid at school that you have a farm with 10 horses.

It's hard to distinguish what I encourage and what I try to correct. At first i was correcting him...He'd tell me about having a farm and I'd say "Yeah that would be a nice thing some day. Maybe you will be a farmer." or telling me about building his bed or this house I'd say "Well, You weren't around then, but somebody did a really good job with that didn't they?"
But then he'd argue with me that HE was the one who did all that, so I started asking him more, like "How many cows were on your farm? What colour was the barn? What did you use to build the bed?"

But even then, I feel like becoming TOO interested encourages him to get attention by telling these long-winded stories.

I'm kind of thinking it's just the stage he's at... he's learning story telling and description... plus myself and my dad keep telling him things that start off with "Well, when I was little...", so he's patterning off that...
It'll be interesting to see where it leads I guess...

Month of June:
- Much needed London 'vacation' for three days, then impromptu overnight in Stratford.
-Arts for Peace
-Coldwater Studio Tour
- Berry Picking
- Caught a Monarch caterpillar and a few days later it turned into a chrysalis so now we're awaiting the grand emergence.
- Ongoing drama with certain people that's leaving me feeling very lost. I'm dying to rant more, but shouldn't.
- Probably other stuff? What even happened in June?
-OH, Snowbirds! We drove past the Simcoe Airport on our way to town for the air show and I pulled over and was being all stealthy taking photos of the planes and then three cars in a row that passed meand turned into the airport, so I followed suit and there was a big line of cars parked, waiting for the planes to take off, and people with picnic blankets and kids all camped out. So I didn't feel so bad taking a zillion photos. We watched the stunt plane take off, and then races to town to wait for the Snowbirds. Had an amazing spot on the lawn of my grandparent's retirement home!
- Toilet training was deceptively going well, and then there two weeks where he refused to use to toilet and desperately wants diapers instead of pull-ups. He's pretty good at telling me he has to poop for the most part, but can't seem to get the hang of holding in pee. I've hyped up the underwear thing lots, and at one time he seemed enthusiastic too, and then he just shut down. Oh well, we keep trying..

Coming up:
-MARIPOSA FOLK FESTIVAL!!!!! Fred Penner, Al Simmons AND the Arrogant Worms... I don't even care who else is there, we're parking ourselves in front of the kid's tent the whole time. (really, there's a bunch of people I'm excited about, but have no hope of seeing because they perform so late at night and I need to take Toby home to bed.)
- Maybe starting swimming lessons with Toby? I want to go to Paulene Barratt's, because apparently it's a salt water pool, and I'm allergic to chlorine, so cant go anywhere else. We've been to the lake a bunch and I run in and out of the water with him and hold him and get him to kick in the deep water, but it's not the same as being in a class.
- Relatives from Winnipeg coming for a few weeks at the end of July!!!
- Job at Jack and Maddy still going well!! More of a nice 'day off' from home, although this past Monday Toby threw a fit when I left and all but climbed in the car with me, so I threw some pants on him and stuck him in his car seat, picturing a miserable day ahead. It didn't turn out too bad, but I also was working a shortened day and I was still constantly trying to look after him. Hopefully it's not a pattern. (P.S. We have Avengers and Harry Potter Lego still, and now Lord of the Rings Lego!!)

That's summer in a nutshell so far!!!

Ode to an Outdoor Kid

Bruises, bruises everywhere.
Muddy face and messy hair.
Blackfly bites and thicket scrapes,
Open wooden garden gates.
Sandy feet under sprinkler hose,
Wipe the droplets off your nose.
Beginning glow of sun-kissed skin.
Slimy mud to throw stones in.
Rubber balls and hula hoops,
Plastic buckets, sandbox scoops.
Bird's eggs, toads and millipedes.
Picking flowers, sowing seeds.
Chase the cat with shrieks and laughs.
Trip and stumble on the path.
Bare feet tear through grassy lawn
Til at last the tell-tale yawn
Of energy that's wearing thin,
A sign it's time to head on in.
Soapy scrubbing, towel dry.
Crawl in bed to close your eyes.

Nature vs.Nurture

I've always found the argument of 'nature versus nurture' to be really interesting. I'm for and against a lot of things on both sides of the argument, so I couldn't say which one I agree with more, though raising Toby in exactly the same environment as my sister and I were raised has turned out to be an interesting experiment.

Most of you know, my parent's live in the country. We have a 30 acre property and about a half acre piece of dirt that we cultivate with vegetables every year (mostly my Granny and Opa's doing, who live next door.) We have two tractors, one big and one small. We've always had animals of some kind; when I was little we had chickens, cats and a dog; currently we have three cats who live outside. We have a bush with a stream and walking trails. We have wildlife regularly walk through our yard.

My sister and I could have cared less about the tractors when we were young. We were told to stay out of the way if Opa was mowing the grass or snow blowing, but that was about it. I tried to learn to drive the tractor when I was maybe 12 and I hit a tree and never wanted to do it again. I had my own vegetable garden, but it got forgotten and dried out half way through the summer. I loved our cats, and my sister and I played with them constantly.

Toby on the other hand, living in the same house with the same people around and the same routine, took an intense fascination to the tractor each time Opa drove around in it. This turned into pointing out every tractor on every farm on our way to and from town. Which turned into me needing to learn the names of a whole host of farm equipment so I wasn't just saying 'tractor' to everything that moved.
Tractors evolved into construction equipment. Construction turned into carpentry tools.
Yes, I encouraged Toby's fascination, but by no means did I force it.
I also encourage him with different kinds of sports and activities outside, but it always comes back to wanting to sit on the tractor or hit something with a stick or a hammer. Including our cats, which despite my best and loving efforts is still a problem. Yes my sister and I chased them around, but we never wanted to terrorize them the way Toby seems to think is fun.

People say 'Oh, it's just cause he's a boy. Boy's are like that.'
Alright, well my boy also regularly asks me to tie pieces of fabric or bath towels around him to make a dress. He asks to have his nails painted when I paint mine. He runs up to my mom while I'm cooking dinner and exclaims "Gramma! Mom is just making a FABULOUS dinner. You should SEE!"
Today he was eating carrot sticks when he declared that "This one looks like a pony! I'm not going to eat it, I'll save in in the fridge."
And 10 minutes later began telling me how he was going to chase a mouse behind a tractor and BAM it with a hammer.
On the way to town now he'll comment on the BEAUTIFUL HORSIES, and then THE HUUUUGE TRUCK WITH A TRAILER THAT HAD AN EXCAVATOR ON IT!!! in the same breath.

I feel like, yes, he is a very stereotypical boy, I blame genetics; but he's also been nurtured to understand beauty and nature. He's naturally very quiet sensitive, but he's also has a natural rage that rears it's ugly head from time to time.
So it's hard tell, where does the effects of nature stop and the effects of nurturing begin? Are we nurturing our kids to be their acceptable 'self', or are we trying to nurture them into what we think they should be like?

I encourage dance and yoga, as much as I encourage soccer and hockey. He likes them all, but is clearly not interested enough to be an Olympic athlete. And maybe I do have a secret hope that he'll end up on So You Think You Can Dance Canada Season 20, but I know it's not likely to happen.
Based on now, what seems likely is that he'll end up doing carpentry, at least as a hobby. He'll be a good cook even if he's not a chef. He could run his own farm one day if he keeps up the interest.

But again comparing to my sister and I, I was always the tomboy and my sister was the princess diva...and in the end I'm the one who went to school for fashion design and she's the one who gets excited over parasitic cat testicles.

You can do any amount of encouraging and your kid will still rebel against you. Nothing is ever expected.
Hopefully Toby finds a way to vent his aggression properly and is at least ingrained with the knowledge that he can be whoever he wants to be.

Old

Outside today, weeding the garden, I very suddenly felt....old.
Not 'old' in the sense that my joints hurt or my knees popped when I stood up...Just...oldER?

Toby was playing beside me and we watched Opa (my Opa, Toby's Great-Opa) drive into the back yard to get a trailer. Toby said he was going to see what he was doing, I said sure.
He was gone for ages, so I checked around the corner to see things were ok, and he was waving Opa back to where the trailer was and then helped hitch it up, and then Opa put him in the car to drive through the field with a load of junk.
In the last few weeks I've let him do 'independent' things that I never would have dreamed of letting him do this time last year. Mostly because I know he's not going to go careening off the bridge, or trip over the front step now.
So, anyway, Here I am standing in the middle of the yard wearing slush pants over my pajama pants, with grubby skater shoes, a sweater, a scarf and a touque. An outfit I wouldn't be caught dead in a few years ago. An outfit I may have rolled my eyes at my mom for wearing.
And I'm watching my son walk away rom me to do another project and I don't feel a sense of panic that he needs to be supervised. I'm just....ok.
And it lead to this sudden feeling of feeling 'old'.
And then I'm thinking, maybe it has nothing to with age really, but more a sense of confidence.

I'm so used to feeling like I'm grasping at straws, both as a person and a mother. I had a kid right at the moment in my life where I was realizing that my adult-self was a different person than my teenage-self, and then I had to suddenly discover my mother-self and my single-self on top of all that.
So maybe I just feel 'old' because I finally feel confident that I have this thing figured out.
Maybe I'm feeling grown up because Toby is growing up and I don't feel tied down because I have to lug him everywhere. Maybe I'm feeling gown up because I feel like a mom, and not just someone who's raising a kid.

The wind blows around my legs, and I can't feel it because I've chosen to wear slush pants over my PJs. I smile to myself that I've made a good choice and kneel back down in the dirt to keep weeding.