Feeling B.L.A.H

Good day. Well, I hope it is for you, anyway.

I feel like crap-ola today. I've been fighting a cold for a few days now and the sucky weather concurrently plighting Toronto makes it so much harder to climb out of my funk. If it were a nice day out I'd probably manage to find the will to get off my ass and out into the sunshine. That would certainly perk me up, and make my kid way less bored too. I.just.can't.find.the.energy. We've already watched Finding Nemo, assembled a wicked-ass train track, read books, coloured, administered 2 time-outs, cooked (ugh, who am I trying to fool... nuked) and ate lunch, and I watched some vlogs from this chick I follow online.

Now the kid is sleeping and I am so bored. I planned to make chicken soup today, but I just don't think it's gonna happen. All I want to do is curl up in bed and read Outlander, watch back episodes of my favourite shows, have a bubble bath and feel better. It's so brutal being sick (ish - I'm not SICK sick) and lazy when you have a kid depending on you to entertain and actively parent him. I want to feel sorry for myself and indulge in completely selfish activities of my own choosing, not hang out at the community centre or neighbourhood park, which only ever consists of chasing him around the field and yelling "This way, sweetie!! No no, not into that massive puddle!! Don't throw rocks!! Can you please come with Mama?!?? No, no, that's not your ball, baby, we need to give that back...". It takes a lot of effort to tackle that kind of afternoon, and I just don't have it in me today.

I should have tried to nap, but I was hesitant to because yesterday when I did my kid woke up 5 minutes after I drifted off. I got startled awake by his squawking, and remained in a disoriented fog for a good 20 minutes after that. I was so scared the same thing would happen again today, but of course, as Mr. Murphy would have told me, today the blessed child has been sleeping for nicely over an hour now. I would have had a kick-ass nap!! UGH!

So, such is my life this week. Just a never-ending string of bad luck, bad timing, bad moods, and a completely bad attitude!
Oh, I just realized I'm out of diapers and milk. I guess I now have plans for the afternoon. Envious? I thought so.

Ta ta!

I hate my landlord

Since moving into our apartment two and a half years ago, we have tried to avoid conflict with our landlord and our completely obnoxious neighbours. They fight, they sue eachother, they've each tried to recruit us to join their mission of destroying the other. It's been madness, and we've refused to get involved. Right from the beginning we agreed to kill our landlord with kindness; we did NOT want to be on his bad side. When our dishwasher broke, we asked him politely if at some point he could please stop by to take a look at it. He came over, tinkered with it for a while, and concluded that I was certainly using dishsoap that was too high-quality for such a modest machine. His solution? I should start using no name powder soap, and ditch my liquid Cascade. My problem was surely that my flamboyant soap created too many suds and overwhelmed the poor dishwasher into leaking water all over the kitchen floor. He refused to call the Maytag maintenance people because it would cost more than the thing was worth in the first place, and left.

I didn't complain. I stood there in stupified silence, but I didn't complain. Eventually, and miraculously, the dishwasher managed to right itself, and I moved on, chalking it up to a one-off bad experience.

A few short months later, my son (who was 4 or 5 months old) started crying in his room after waking from a nap. I went to get him, turned the doorknob, and... nothing. The knob just spun around, not retracting the little piece that latches into the door frame. My husband and I began to worry, and tried brainstorming, calling family for ideas. However, since all the hardware for the knob and hinges for the door are on the inside, and our son was growing more hysterical by the second we had no choice but to break the door down. The latch never actually lined up properly with the door jam (oh lord, am I using the right terminology? I've never pretended to be a carpenter, or hell, a man, so please forgive me and try to follow along), and I guess finally the whole thing just got sick of not fitting. So, when Luke busted the door in it cracked the frame and part of the door in the process.

The next day we called our landlord and explained the situation. We asked that he please come and replace the door so we can latch it again. He grudgingly said he'd be by the next day, but he never showed. Luke called him once more to get him to come by, but he never came, never called, nothing. That was well over a year ago, and we've just left the door ajar since then. In the grand scheme of things, not such a big deal, though, right? Not really worth creating a stink over, we didn't figure. We moved on...

So, little things like this have continued to happen during our time living here. We'll request some maintenance, he says he'll do it, and doesn't. Or, if he does grant us some help he complains about how much of a money-sucker owning this building is and how much our neighbour (Lala is her name and she's as crazy as they come, but there's not enough room in the library for her story) is out to ruin him (which she is). We just tune him out and say nothing. He never trims the hedges, he never cleans the garbage/compost bins, and he left a piece of shit 1990 Mercury Linx to rot in our back parking lot taking up precious visitor space. We just made things work on our own, negotiating with our neighbours to squeeze another car in somewhere. He never waters the lawn or shovels the pathways of snow until he's legally summoned to do so (you see, Lala's crazy does come in handy sometimes - she calls the cops a lot), and even after Luke was SUMMONED TO COURT to testify in one of their crazy legal battles, we still did not see it necessary to be rude to him.

This summer we managed to scrape together enough money to buy a condo, and we gave sixty days notice. The landlord said we were his best tenants, and he'd be sad to see us go. "You just never know who you're going to get renting the space, and you guys never gave me any trouble, unlike SOME people", he lamented, gesturing to Lala's apartment window. He was totally right; we never gave him so much as a raised voice after he ignored and neglected our needs (and rights if you want to get technical) as tenants. We were the perfect doormats. I felt kind of satisfied that we managed to get through our time here without earning a bad reputation with him, considering he's such a spiteful, angry person. It really was quite an accomplishment. I just smiled and took his compliment, not mentioning how we were not only excited to be buying a condo, but we were thrilled to be leaving his sure-to-be-imminently-condemned building. I just didn't see the need to stir the pot.

So, a few days after we give our notice, a fire gets lit under our landlord's ass and he decides to get to work on the building. He junks the tire-less pile of rusting metal out back, he trims all the hedges AND the huge maple tree outside our window. He reroutes the eavestrough to actually drain water AWAY from the building, lays new sod, sets up a sprinkler to water the lawn every other day, maintains the garbage alcove, replaces the cracked windows around the front door, paints the exterior window trim of each unit, paints lines to indicate parking spot perimeters.... oh god the list goes on and on. He didn't do an EFFING thing for two and a half years while we've been here, and now he decides that in order to rent out the apartment again he'd better get on with it. I've been livid. I feel so screwed and taken advantage of. He never gives us any notice that he's going to be working on the building, even when he's drilling into the brick wall that is the exterior of my son's bedroom WHILE HE'S NAPPING, or puts his ladder up to our living room and starts painting the trim, WHILE I'M SITTING THERE IN MY UNDERWEAR!!" After three days of drilling during naptime (and during a difficult personal time for our family, I'll add), I had finally had enough, and worked up the courage to confront him.

I marched downstairs and actually gave him a piece of my mind. I was so proud of myself! I told him how frustrated I was at his complete disregard for our living through his improvements, that it was rude to not give me some notice that his work would be inconveniencing us. I told him that his drilling had awakened my son early from his nap two days in a row, and that brick dust had come in through the windows and was now my responsibility to clean up. I rationally explained that if he were to simply give me some notice, I would be able to shift my son's naptime a bit, or close the windows(!), or leave for the afternoon, or GET DRESSED. I appealed to what little sense of common courtesy I hoped he might have, but he didn't seem terribly moved. He apologized that day, but the intrusions have continued. In response I've stopped being nice to him. No wait, I've not even been that bold. I've simply stopped engaging him in pleasant conversation. I walk by him without smiling. I know what you're thinking... slow down with your bad self, Katelyn! How will he be able to take your passive aggression without crumbling in a puddle of tears and regret?

Well, somehow he manages just fine. He has continued to piss me off and I've continued to do nothing (except of course, to berate him in my head, coming up with the perfect rhetoric to render him truly sorry).

So, yesterday I brought my garbage down to the bins outside, ignoring him while he puttered around the yard. As I headed back inside, I heard, "Hey, I need that window put in!" I thought nothing of it, assuming he was commanding his nephew (and spineless minion) around like always. Then, "EXCUSE ME!! I need that window put back in." Shocked to realize that he was addressing me with that tone and not a 3 year old, I turned around. He continued to blather on about how he needs the interior window - that we unscrewed to allow for proper airflow when we moved in TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO!! - to be replaced RIGHT NOW. I explained that I'd get Luke to do that when he got home after work, as I was busy with my son, but that wasn't good enough. He said he'd just come in and do it himself (oh no he wouldn't!). I told him I didn't know where Luke had put the window (a lie, I knew it was in the hall closet) and shrugged casually. He just kept repeating, "well I need it in. I'm doing trim work and I need it put back." I started to wonder if he may have Asperger's; his behaviour was so bizarre and uncivilized, as though he just got let out of a cave and was asked to interact with socialized people. There was no "please", no "would you mind...?", no "sorry to inconvenience you, but... ". It wasn't reasonable. He wanted the window in right then, not a moment later. For what reason, I've still got no idea - he certainly couldn't/wouldn't explain it to me. Maybe he wasn't dealing with our previous confrontation as well as I thought. SCORE ONE FOR KATELYN'S POWERFUL RHETORIC (except that it resulted in this onslaught, so I'll take that point back). So, after being blustered for as long as I could stand, I said, "Fine! I'll go find your precious window right now!!" I stormed off and let the door slam behind me. I huffed and puffed while I re-installed the window, making sure to loudly mutter near the open screen, "Sorry, son, I can't feed you right now, I have to put in this super-important window.""Sorry, son, I can't change that rancid poopy diaper until I finish putting in this totally-necessary-to-outside-trim-work window!""Oh, you want to read a story? Can't do it!! What the landlord wants, the landlord must get RIGHT NOW!! AFTER ALL, HE'S ALWAYS BEEN SO ACCOMMODATING FOR US!!" When I finished I stomped downstairs to take more garbage outside, brushing past him haughtily, daring him to mess with me again (with my eyes, of course, who do you think I am John McEnroe?).

As you can see, I still haven't gotten over it. I hate being bullied, and I especially hate being bullied when I've bent over backwards trying to be understanding and patient with this guy, with the naive hope that it would earn me better treatment than others get from him. I feel like a sucker, and that's probably what's actually making this whole tirade take shape more than his actual ass-hat behaviour... I just hate it when I give someone the benefit of the doubt and they trample all over me. I'm a grade A sucker. Supreme SUCKER when it comes to knowing when enough is enough. It has to change. So maybe some good has come from this after all. Maybe I'll try harder to stand up for myself when something isn't right, even if it makes me unpopular. It'll be hard for me, as I clearly have a pathological need to be liked, but could it really be harder than biting my tongue all the time? I no longer think so. It remains to be seen, though, if I'll truly use this experience as a propeller for growth, or just leave it here as a long-ass bitch-fest.

So, now we just bide our time until we can get the heck out of here. We've taken possession of our new condo this week, and it's all we can do not to just move in this weekend and deal with the renos we've got planned for later. But no. We must do the sensible thing and put flooring in BEFORE moving all the furniture in, no matter how antsy we are to leave our current place. I have half a mind to warn the new tenants of what they're in for - to try and dissuade them from getting their hopes up and being suckers like we've been, but I'm sure I'd just come off as crazy. Afterall, when Lala first knocked on our door intent on getting us to join her in suing the pants off of the landlord for a mold issue in the basement, I thought she was just being dramatic (turns out I was right, but that's besides the point...). These new tenants will just have to learn for themselves, like we did, that our landlord is a complete prick and there is no reasoning with him. And all I can do now is try and move on... again. Fortunately, I think writing this post has helped me on my way.

Not saying I won't still leave the oven and bathtub a filthy mess for him to have to clean after we're gone.... ;)

Say Anything at Harbourfront Centre

The last time I went to the Harbourfront Centre's free summer movie was 8 or 9 years ago. I saw Vertigo with Luke and 2 of his Ryerson buddies, and we had such a great time - I vowed to go back the next week for Rear Window (every season has a theme, that year was, duh, Alfred Hitchcock films). Obviously, I never did make it back the following week, and then I just kind of forgot about it, I guess. Well, when it started up again this year I looked over the schedule and noticed that this season's theme is 80's movies! I could not let another year go by without seeing at least one of the awesome movies on the list, so I made a plan: I would see Desperately Seeking Susan with my visiting cousin, Alaina. I was so excited to take her and have her be amazed by the city's offerings and the beauty of Harbourfront at night. It would be an experience to go home and brag to her family and friends about, and I would be proud to share it with her. Well, wouldn't you know, it rained that night, hard enough to totally scratch that plan. Blah. So disappointing. I'd built it up so much!! We ended up just heading up to Blockbuster and renting My Big Fat Greek Wedding, which is good of course, but not quite the same as catching a classic movie outdoors, surrounded by sailboats in the harbour, city lights, and views of the CN Towe and Skydome (er Rogers Centre - will I ever get used to calling it that?).

With my first attempt a bust, and my available nights in the summer running out fast, Luke and I made a date to see Say Anything last night. I'd never actually seen it and it's soooo good!! We were really pumped, and the weather couldn't have been more perfect. Sunny and warm all day, the evening cooled off nicely for cuddling together under blankets and stars. The benches had been seriously improved (we'd been dreading the serious backaches we endured through Vertigo), and the auditorium was totally full. The whole vibe down there was so cool; laughter filled the band shell, and everyone was happy, really enjoying the night. During the iconic ghetto blaster scene (with Lloyd Dobbler playing "In Your Eyes" for his love, Diane Court, outside her bedroom window) we all cheered and lots of people took pictures of the screen. I totally missed having my camera available to take a few shots myself (not of the screen, because I'm a good girl and such behavior was not actually allowed, but of the evening in general). Instead I'll find a couple of stills from the movie and stick'em in this post!

Next week Labyrinth is playing, which is one of my all-time favourite movies. Unfortunately, we'll have to miss it because of our camping trip. Now, THAT would be a movie to see with an enthusiastic crowd! I can just picture people singing along to "Dance, Magic, Dance" and laughing at David Bowie's manly package in his tights. I suppose I'll just have to have a little fire dance around my campsite to commemorate the evening instead. :)

Anyway, I'm so glad I finally got back down there after so many years away, and I can't recommend it more highly to visitors of Toronto and residents alike. It's truly one of the best summer dates you could have in this wonderful city. I can't wait for next season!

Being Poor

I came across this blog post from Whatever. It was written in September of 2005, and was clearly inspired by the effects of Hurricane Katrina, which hit New Orleans about a week earlier. The article is moving and it brought me to tears, both from empathy and from the shock of being shown just how heartless and judgmental we all can be of those struggling below the poverty line. The author, John Scalzi, does an excellent job of contrasting struggling middle class with true poverty in the US, and I think it would do us all good to read this and remember just how truly fortunate we are in our lives. And don't stop there. I know that during times of economic struggle we are all affected, but when we tighten our belts the people who feel that the most are charities, shelters and food banks. Please continue to give to those less fortunate than you. Make choices to save money in order to give the extra to others. We can all do more, so I urge you to do just that.

I also encourage you to click here to read the comments posted by hundreds of different people after the original blog went up.

Being poor is knowing exactly how much everything costs.

Being poor is getting angry at your kids for asking for all the crap they see on TV.

Being poor is having to keep buying $800 cars because they’re what you can afford, and then having the cars break down on you, because there’s not an $800 car in America that’s worth a damn.

Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.

Being poor is knowing your kid goes to friends’ houses but never has friends over to yours.

Being poor is going to the restroom before you get in the school lunch line so your friends will be ahead of you and won’t hear you say “I get free lunch” when you get to the cashier.

Being poor is living next to the freeway.

Being poor is coming back to the car with your children in the back seat, clutching that box of Raisin Bran you just bought and trying to think of a way to make the kids understand that the box has to last.

Being poor is wondering if your well-off sibling is lying when he says he doesn’t mind when you ask for help.

Being poor is off-brand toys.

Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.

Being poor is knowing you can’t leave $5 on the coffee table when your friends are around.

Being poor is hoping your kids don’t have a growth spurt.

Being poor is stealing meat from the store, frying it up before your mom gets home and then telling her she doesn’t have make dinner tonight because you’re not hungry anyway.

Being poor is Goodwill underwear.

Being poor is not enough space for everyone who lives with you.

Being poor is feeling the glued soles tear off your supermarket shoes when you run around the playground.

Being poor is your kid’s school being the one with the 15-year-old textbooks and no air conditioning.

Being poor is thinking $8 an hour is a really good deal.

Being poor is relying on people who don’t give a damn about you.

Being poor is an overnight shift under florescent lights.

Being poor is finding the letter your mom wrote to your dad, begging him for the child support.

Being poor is a bathtub you have to empty into the toilet.

Being poor is stopping the car to take a lamp from a stranger’s trash.

Being poor is making lunch for your kid when a cockroach skitters over the bread, and you looking over to see if your kid saw.

Being poor is believing a GED actually makes a goddamned difference.

Being poor is people angry at you just for walking around in the mall.

Being poor is not taking the job because you can’t find someone you trust to watch your kids.

Being poor is the police busting into the apartment right next to yours.

Being poor is not talking to that girl because she’ll probably just laugh at your clothes.

Being poor is hoping you’ll be invited for dinner.

Being poor is a sidewalk with lots of brown glass on it.

Being poor is people thinking they know something about you by the way you talk.

Being poor is needing that 35-cent raise.

Being poor is your kid’s teacher assuming you don’t have any books in your home.

Being poor is six dollars short on the utility bill and no way to close the gap.

Being poor is crying when you drop the mac and cheese on the floor.

Being poor is knowing you work as hard as anyone, anywhere.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you’re not actually stupid.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you’re not actually lazy.

Being poor is a six-hour wait in an emergency room with a sick child asleep on your lap.

Being poor is never buying anything someone else hasn’t bought first.

Being poor is picking the 10 cent ramen instead of the 12 cent ramen because that’s two extra packages for every dollar.

Being poor is having to live with choices you didn’t know you made when you were 14 years old.

Being poor is getting tired of people wanting you to be grateful.

Being poor is knowing you’re being judged.

Being poor is a box of crayons and a $1 coloring book from a community center Santa.

Being poor is checking the coin return slot of every soda machine you go by.

Being poor is deciding that it’s all right to base a relationship on shelter.

Being poor is knowing you really shouldn’t spend that buck on a Lotto ticket.

Being poor is hoping the register lady will spot you the dime.

Being poor is feeling helpless when your child makes the same mistakes you did, and won’t listen to you beg them against doing so.

Being poor is a cough that doesn’t go away.

Being poor is making sure you don’t spill on the couch, just in case you have to give it back before the lease is up.

Being poor is a $200 paycheck advance from a company that takes $250 when the paycheck comes in.

Being poor is four years of night classes for an Associates of Art degree.

Being poor is a lumpy futon bed.

Being poor is knowing where the shelter is.

Being poor is people who have never been poor wondering why you choose to be so.

Being poor is knowing how hard it is to stop being poor.

Being poor is seeing how few options you have.

Being poor is running in place.

Being poor is people wondering why you didn’t leave.

whatever.scalzi.com

Girlfriends - old and new

It's been a tough go trying to find new friends since becoming a mom 17 months ago. The girlfriends I've had for a long time are amazing and so necessary in my life, but since none of them have kids yet they often just can't relate to many of the things that are going on for me now. My interests have expanded, as well as my daily routine being completely different than before. I'm a stay-at-home mom, and my days are spent going to drop-in centres, toddler programs, playgrounds, library reading groups, the grocery store, etc., things that they would have no interest in doing with me (hell I wouldn't want to do them if I didn't have a kid!). I've met a few moms here and there, but no strong connections had really been made until kind of recently.

About 5-6 months ago I met another mom at the community centre Owen and I go to. She has two kids, her son being the same age as mine, and we clicked right away during our Enjoying Your Toddler group. As the only two mothers at the group (the rest were nannies or grandmas), we felt relieved initially to have someone else to chat with, but it quickly turned into a real friendship that's been growing steadily ever since. We've been pretty inseparable, signing up for the same programs, hitting up the science centre with the kids, and we recently started a small walking group with another mom. A few months ago we decided to try going out without the kids - kind of a test to see if we we'd still click without the kids or find out that they were really the only reason we got along at all. We realized right away that night that we had nothing to be concerned about, and now we go to movies, out for drinks, or even just watch tv at her place while the kids are sleeping. We joked recently that people were going to start wondering if we were "special friends"... but it just works, you know? Last week we met at another new friend's house and sat out on her back deck until 1:30am, just chatting, enjoying some wine. I left that night looking so forward to the family BBQ we have planned, girls nights out, and continued playdates at splashpads and playgrounds throughout the summer. It feels like it's been a long time coming, and I'm so happy to feel like I really have my own little mom-group now!

With the addition of these new friends I feel like I've got such a well-rounded social thing happening right now. I still have my "old" girlfriends who are there for me, especially when I want to dig deep, or spend a night out on the town (that sounds cheesy... *shrug*), and I have my new "mom" friends who support me and understand this new part of my life. I can be serious or silly with any and all of them, but I know who to go to for what. It's just so great to have them all. I feel really lucky today, so, kisses to all my special (and "special") girls out there. You all hold unique places in my heart and I thank you all for being so wonderful.

What happens in Vegas... I share with you!

After years of dreaming about doing such a thing, and months of planning and waiting for it to be official, last week I finally went on a vacation with girlfriends - to Las Vegas!! I've mooned over the idea of taking a girls only trip for ages, with many different girlfriends, fantasizing about road trips, all-inclusive resorts, backpacking treks through Europe, etc. I always had the best intentions of following through, as I'm sure my friends did, but for whatever reason these trips just never panned out. But, I got lucky this time, and a group of 6 girls (2 of us with children!) managed to actually coordinate an out-of-country vacation - together! 

Las Vegas is the perfect place to go to with a group of friends. Especially if you're all women. If you're a woman the perks area never-ending, and people will trip over themselves trying to get you into their clubs. The whole point of Vegas is to get women drunk by offering them open-bar promos and VIP access, which of course brings in the men, who spend an obscene amount of money trying to get with these impared women. It's all so obvious, and honestly pretty friggin' exploitive and immoral, but really, when the line-up to get into any given club if you're not on the guest/promo list is hundreds of people long, you'll take the freebies when they're offered to you. Luckily, our group was savvy enough to take advantage of the perks without falling prey to their true purpose, and we just laughed at how unfair it all was. Men, quite frankly, get gouged in Vegas. They even have to pay to use the pools in the hotels they're guests of! They pay $40 cover (on average) for bars, $10-15 per drink that would be $6-7 here, and if you're not "on the list" forget about getting in anywhere. It's not gonna happen unless you book and pay for bottle service, which starts at several hundred dollars and goes up into the 1000s without blinking. We felt pretty bad for the men who were clearly in town with their girlfriends/wives, and they were still getting completely screwed, just because it's been determined that all men want to throw their money away in attempts to lure drunk girls on vacation into sleeping with them, and these men need to be taken advantage of. Kinda sad.

Anyway, like I said, we took advantage of the perks of our gender and hit up some of the best clubs: Tao, Lavo, Moon at The Palms, Studio 54... and we had a blast dancing and gawking at the extravagance of the strip. We ate disgusting amounts of McDonald's and IHOP in the wee morning hours, laid out by the pool for a few hours each day, did some serious shopping at the outlet centre nearby (scored myself a sweet Coach purse for $99), and managed to do some impressive touring around taking pictures of all the iconic casinos and bars that before last week I had only seen on tv. Seriously, Caeser's Palace is unbelievable. It had talking, moving, marble statues! What the hell is that? And where else on earth could you find something so ridiculous? Only in Vegas.

I don't know if I would need to go back to Las Vegas anytime soon (or ever?). The lifestyle of drinking and tanning and not sleeping was pretty hard on my body - I swear I aged 5 years in as many days - but it was the trip of a lifetime, and I'll have incredible memories to look back on fondly forever. The girls I shared this time with were fun and crazy, and we experienced shockingly little drama during our time together. I can't imagine having done this particular trip with anyone else. :)

Protecting EI for new mothers

The specifics of this issue took me a bit to really get, but this is certainly worth the effort it takes to understand it. NDP MP Chris Charlton is working hard to get a bill (that was passed in March 09) enforced that resonates with me as a feminist, as a mother, and as an empathetic member of my community during this down-turn in the economy. You can read about it on Ms. Charlton's website here.

Let me paint a picture: A woman gives birth and takes her due maternity leave. After her year, she returns to work only to get laid off, because her company has been struggling like so many others these days. She applies for employment insurance, like anyone else would do, only to find out that the government says she used up all of her employment insurance while taking maternity leave. She's shit out of luck, and possibly now without any sustainable way of putting food on the table. And of course, she has a new baby to care for. 

What's happening is the government is punishing women in these circumstances for taking maternity leave. This must change.

Taking one's rightful maternity leave should have NO impact on whether or not mothers qualify for "regular" employment insurance upon returning to their jobs. It implies that they were no longer employed, or were on a personal sabbatical during the time they were away from their desks. While on maternity leave women remain fully employed members of their companies, earning the same benefits throughout their leave. They are not on vacation during this time, and they should not be penalized though they are. 

There is a petition on Chris Charlton's website that you can print, sign, and mail back to her (postage free). She will then present it in The House of Commons, and hopefully convince Parliament to enforce this bill as early as Mother's Day! 

Please help participate in this movement to protect new moms during this awful recession. If you need any further incentive, just imagine how utterly devastated and pissed you would be if this happened to you. And how grateful you would feel if people banded together to do what's right for you and your family.

 

Searching for something satisfying...

My husband took our son out for a bagel and some father-son bonding while I have my Friday lie-in. He wants me to workout and shower in this time (not because he's a jerk, but because I told him I have to do that before we start our fun-filled family day in this beautiful spring weather). As he was heading out the door I think I remember telling him that "maybe" I would do those things while they were out. I haven't. 

Instead I've been reading a wicked-ass blog that I stumbled upon randomly through a facebook ad for a mani-pedi bar here in Toronto. The author of the blog owns the mani-pedi bar and for some inexplicable reason, she has connected her business website with her personal (and I do mean PERSONAL) blog page. While I would NEVER want the two things mixing, she seems like a pretty cool girl, and she might even be using her blog as a marketing tool - promoting her salon by publicizing her Carrie Bradshaw lifestyle. You know, 'I'm just like you. I struggle, I love, I have successes and failures. Don't you want to hang out at my Mani-Pedi Bar?' Anyway, whether the connection of work to personal life is as savvy as I'm making it out to be, or just a weird choice that I'm too suspicious to look past, I really enjoyed reading her posts, and it got me thinking...

I miss my pre-baby life. I miss it in a way that I never expected I would and it sucks sometimes. I know I made the right choice to marry my husband - there isn't a better man in the world better for me than him, and I love love love him. And my son? Forget about it, he's everything that words couldn't possibly express. I sing him a song called My Boy, My Joy, and sometimes I find myself just staring at him in loving amazement. BUT... I feel such guilt because I need more in my life than just being a wife and mother. I need my independence. I need time to myself where I'm not being responsible for someone else. Hell, perhaps I even need it more than other moms do... I don't know. I just know that, like it or not, I do have a wanderlust that's been there forever, and it didn't go away when I became a mother. If anything it's made me feel a little trapped. Trapped by responsibility in some ways, trapped by guilt that I need more than other moms do - that I'm selfish. I find myself envying this stranger's Sex and the City-esque life. Wishing that I had her freedom and resenting that I haven't experienced near the successes that she has - even though she probably wouldn't even see her life in such a way.

While lamenting about similar stuff to my brother a while ago, he responded, "well you are Dad...". Like that was in itself an explanation for my struggles. I didn't say anything, but I was offended, and have given it a lot of thought since. You see, my father left our family because he couldn't handle the role of being a "full-time" dad and husband. He resented the expectation he felt to provide for us in the traditional sense. After he left, he moved every year or so, because he got itchy. He's always wandered - from job to job, passion to passion, woman to woman - and we have never been a priority. We have always come second to his passions, to his needs. It terrifies me and breaks my heart that people compare me to him so much. I know he's in there, but I also know that there's a lot of him that is NOT in me, things that I reject and run screaming in the other direction from. I don't accept that I'm destined to fulfill some genetic prophecy my father left for me because I yearn for something more from my life.

Whether my family and/or others get it or not, at the end of my day I want more time to write, to read, to travel, see movies, to go out with girlfriends, to plan fundraisers, to learn, to organize, to exercise. I want to feel fulfilled by a passion. I want to feel useful and powerful beyond my homelife, as a part of the global community. I want to feel successful and smart and desirable. I want to be a wicked mother, and a kick-ass woman separate of that. I'll totally cop to getting the intense, dreaming, passionate side of my father. But I also got the nurturing and committed parts of my mother. I just happen to want it all, and I think I'm becoming okay with that. Now I have to figure out how to get it!

I'm thinking a Mani-Pedi might be in order!! 

Spring is coming

I just had to drag my kid, kicking and screaming out of his first puddle. After 20 minutes of splashing, stomping and throwing rocks in this puddle, he was soaked and filthy (and no doubt cold - although I'm sure that didn't register as a terribly big deal to him). I told him a couple of times that it was time to go, but I realized pretty quickly that the only way I was going to get him away from that puddle was in my arms. So I picked him up and carried him away, with snot and drool and tears dripping from every facial orifice (his not mine). I couldn't help but laugh the whole time while he lost his damned mind. I hope I didn't give him a complex, but it was funny as hell.

I can't wait until I can pick him up a pair of proper rain boots and I can let him go at it until he's had his fill. Watching him discover all the fun of that puddle was probably just as enjoyable for me as it was for him. Well, almost. :)

Friday Fill-In (On Saturday)

FRIDAY FILL-INS

1. Getting up with the kid and letting my husband sleep in was my last random act of kindness. 

2. Another place to network online: Twittermoms

3. Changes can occur in matters of the heart.

4. Coffee, tea or raspberry smoothies.

5. My family and I are often on separate paths.

6. Our random birth luck reminds me that there is a whole world of suffering people who didn't choose to be born into their circumstances and we have the responsibility to help.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to hitting up Devil's Martini with the girls, tomorrow my plans include shopping for a new wall clock and Sunday, I want to work out and spring clean!

"Fidelity" Don't Divorce Us

I am Canadian, and I believe in Gay Rights everywhere, including the right to marry, and right now legally married homosexual couples in California are being threatened. Ken Starr (of Bill Clinton scandal fame) has put forth a legal movement to nullify the marriages of gay couples in California, in response to the passing of Proposition 8 last fall, and this touching video is trying to get the word out that that must not happen. In passing such legislation, government would be undermining loving, committed relationships and the families created from those unions (not to mention taking away the human right they already have to choose who they marry, for goodness sake). It is important to spread their message of love everywhere, not just in the current hotspots. I feel so fortunate to live in Canada at a time like this. All love is recognized as equal here, and we can marry our partners freely, regardless of gender. I figure the more people who see this video, who get a little more exposed to the perspective of these gay families, the more everyone will see just how alike we all are in our ability and right to love. We can, and must, push out the ignorant, divisive mindset that is trying to dictate something we should all unite together for. After all, what are any of us without love?

Let's spread the message - please enjoy this video:


"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

This is What a Feminist Looks Like

I was originally going to write an inspired post about this subject, but my mind is elsewhere tonight and I can't switch out just yet. Anyway, I came across this video in my drafts folder and realized I'd forgotten to post it, so here it is. I love it and I hope you will love it and join me on the Feminist train!!

Village Voice - Worst Lyrics of 2008

I heard that Nickelback received the honour of Worst Lyrics of 2008 for their song "Something In Your Mouth". I had to check out just how bad the lyrics were and who they were competition with, and the results actually shocked this liberal chick!! Maybe I'm not as liberal as I thought, because lyrics like "I'm a venereal disease, like a menstrual bleed" totally had my jaw on the floor. Some of the finalists' submissions (I like to think they all campaigned hard for the top prize) are even more vulgar, so if you'd like to read more click here - I just can't copy that sh*t on here in good conscience.

http://blogs.villagevoice.com/music/pdf/villagevoice-robharvilla-worstlyrics2008.pdf

Take time to talk to your child - The Onion

I came across this funny article on The Onion, and thought I'd share it. It's so true, what the author says, that you have to pay attention to your children, no matter how lame or ridiculous you think their interests are. Showing them that you respect and are interested in the things that matter to them builds their self-confidence and their bond with you. It's unreal how much time I spend in a given day taking really excitedly about trains and farm animals with my one-year-old.

I just loved this guy's particular approach to spreading the word... check it out here.

White House statement on Roe v. Wade anniversary

Just copied and pasted. I don't believe any further commentary is required by me:

THE WHITE HOUSE
Office of the Press Secretary

For Immediate Release January 22, 2009

Statement of President Obama on the 36th Anniversary of Roe v. Wade

On the 36th anniversary of Roe v. Wade, we are reminded that this decision not only protects women's health and reproductive freedom, but stands for a broader principle: that government should not intrude on our most private family matters. I remain committed to protecting a woman's right to choose.

While this is a sensitive and often divisive issue, no matter what our views, we are united in our determination to prevent unintended pregnancies, reduce the need for abortion, and support women and families in the choices they make. To accomplish these goals, we must work to find common ground to expand access to affordable contraception, accurate health information, and preventative services.

On this anniversary, we must also recommit ourselves more broadly to ensuring that our daughters have the same rights and opportunities as our sons: the chance to attain a world-class education; to have fulfilling careers in any industry; to be treated fairly and paid equally for their work; and to have no limits on their dreams. That is what I want for women everywhere.

THE WHITE HOUSE, January 22, 2009.

Word Association of the day

Word bank from www.writeanyway.com

Scream Fest
Dog Poo
Ice Cream
Travel Log
Money Clip
Website URL
Comic Book
Understand Empathy
Psychic Phenomena
Soap Opera

My favourite quotes from Obama's Inauguration Address

"The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness [emphasis mine]...

...The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works - whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified...

...Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint...

...For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth [emphasis mine]; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace...

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends - hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism - these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship."
[emphasis mine]

It's too quiet

I'm struggling more than I expected I would. My husband's parents left about an hour ago with our son for a few days at their place in Wiarton, while Luke and I get some much needed time to rest and reconnect. But I haven't been able to stop crying since they pulled away. When I said goodbye at the car he reached for me and started to cry, and I just had to smile and quickly get it over with - I knew it wouldn't do anyone any good to draw it out and get him hysterical for the car-ride. It broke my heart that he reached for me and I couldn't go to him. I feel so guilty that he can't understand it all yet, and I worry that he's going to be scared without at least one of us with him. This is the first time we've left him with anyone for more than a few hours, and I can't believe how much I miss him already. I already looked at some pictures of him on my Facebook profile, and the tears just poured down my face. I feel like such a drama queen, but honestly, knowing that he can't totally understand what's happening, and worrying that he'll be upset, waiting for us, and wondering why we aren't showing up... it's almost too much. I feel like I want to call my in-laws and tell them to turn around....

I know in my head that once I'm out of his immediate thoughts, he will be fine (he probably settled down quite quickly, actually), and that he won't be up there stressing out every minute or anything. It's the "mommy" moments that I worry about, like when he needs to go to sleep and he's used to the way I cuddle and sing to him, or when he wakes up and either his dad or I go in to get him. Will he be scared to wake up and be greeted by someone else, simply because he'll be out of it and he'll forget to expect that Nana will be getting him, and not us? I worry that they won't know the little things that can soothe him, like chewing on my sweatshirt string when he's nervous, or that Nana won't prepare his food the way I do and he'll give her a hard time.

I trust Luke's parents completely, so this has nothing to do with that. It's just first time nerves, I suppose. I'm just honestly surprised that I'm reacting so extremely to it. My heart feels heavy and everything related to parenting, or Owen specifically, that I see or hear just sends me over the edge, and I start crying and pacing. I think I just need to stop focussing on this and get started enjoying my time off. I have the 2nd book in the Twilight series to read, and tons of magazines and blogs to catch up on. It'll help me to shift my attention from wallowing about Owen, to enjoying this time as I'm meant to. I just have to distract myself and then this sucky-baby feeling sorry for myself will fade. I know one thing for sure: when morning comes and I don't have to get up until I feel like it, with no guilt that Luke is up in my place, I will certainly find the appreciation for my situation rather than whatever this is I'm feeling now.

Wish me luck, and I'll certainly update later in the week. :)

A first birthday party

Well, it feels oddly quiet at our place now that the troops have departed after a busy, and love-filled weekend celebrating my son's first birthday. After the party wrapped up yesterday, we still had my mother, as well as my brother, sister-in-law, and their daughter (my niece, duh), Audrey, stay the night. Mom took off around 10 this morning, but Jeff & Dashka stayed most of the day, because they're are headed to Cuba this evening for a week at a beach resort (unfair, right? Yeah, I think so, too.) Anyway, their flight had been delayed repeatedly, so we just hung out, ate a lot, played video games (Sonic, anyone?!) and reveled in seeing our children bond. I really wish, especially after such a great visit, that we lived close enough to make days like today happen more often. The distance makes it tough to see eachother regularly. My heart felt so full having them here. Anyway, so the hours passed, and they ended up leaving to catch an 8:10 flight. Unfortunately, I just got a call from my brother, saying that it's been pushed back yet again, this time to 10:50 tonight. I feel so bad for them - and they're doing this all with their 16 month old in tow... makes me kind of glad our tentative plans to tag along with them fell through weeks ago...

Well, I've gone and started at the end for some reason. Let's straighten things out a little here... okay, the weekend got off to a bit of the rocky start. I woke up early with Luke and Owen yesterday, with plans to prepare all the food, and finish some last minute cleaning jobs before company started to arrive. Little did I expect that I would get hit with an ocular migraine that would knock me on my butt for the majority of the morning. It started innocently enough with me just seeing a bit of a light halo, like when you look at a bright light and then look away and you can still see the light's "aura"... but it wouldn't go away. That halo slowly became bigger and more colourful, and I also started to see heatwave-looking zig-zags coming off of my husband (because he's just that hot, perhaps?), and feeling a little unsteady on my feet. I lay down and closed my eyes for a while, which seemed to help, but soon I felt the all-too-familiar rush of numbness shoot through my left arm. I've had enough migraines in my life to know that numbness leads nowhere good, and sure enough, it moved to my cheek, my gums and my tongue within minutes. I jumped up and, like a woman on fire, started to do the few things that I certainly wouldn't be able to do once the pain set in, like brush my teeth and shower. I ran to the bathroom with my eyes closed, arms flailing, feeling for walls and doors and turned on the tap. No water. I called to Luke, who reminded me that we only had hot water, because our cold pipe froze overnight (it apparently reached a low of 30 below zero that night), and would take a couple of hours to thaw. I was so stressed out that my company was going to start arriving and I would still be in bed, with greasy hair, wearing ratty pajamas... not to mention that none the the food would be ready, and I was trusting my husband to finish all the other housework that totally required two of us to accomplish. Thank my lucky stars, Owen decided to be a complete angel, and he pretty much played happily in his crib while Luke frittered away at the various tasks. I popped as many ibuprofin as was safe and jumped into my bed to ride the migraine out.

I don't know if someone was looking out for me, or if I just managed to get ahead of it, but when I woke up around 10:30 to the sound of my sister arriving, the pain that had started earlier seemed to have faded almost completely away. The migraine didn't end up materializing like I've experienced before. Whatever the reason or method, I got super-lucky, and over the next hour I improved all the way back to normal.

Unfortunately, we still didn't have cold water in the bathroom, so my sister washed my hair the kitchen sink, and I managed to get myself dressed and throw on some makeup before anyone else arrived. My mom and Luke's parents showed up soon after I was decent and were kind enough to help me get the food all set up, while others continued to arrive and start chatting in the living room. I feel like I made such a narrow escape. I was fully expecting to spend my son's first birthday party in bed, hiding under the covers, coming out only to be sick and then slide back under again. I'm so thankful that I was able to recover so quickly and completely and could enjoy spending such a special day with my son and all my closest family.

So, everything got back on track and we had a great party. We laughed and ate, and took an obscene number of pictures of Owen doing cute birthday things - playing with balloons, unwrapping gifts, devouring the cake my best friend, Katy, so sweetly made for him. People came and went casually, as their schedules and highway driving conditions dictated, so we never had more than 12 people here at one time. It worked out quite well that way, as no one had trouble finding somewhere to sit, and it never got too overwhelming for the birthday boy.

I can't believe it's been a year since Owen entered the world. In some ways it feels like it should be way longer ago that I gave birth to him - I feel like I've known him my whole life. On the other hand, though, when I look at how big he is and how many milestones he has hit, I marvel at how little time as really passed. It's quite shocking how much has happened in just one year. It has been the hardest, most emotional, most thrilling and educational way to spend a year, and I am the luckiest person to not only have survived it (which, believe me, should count for something!!!), but I get to continue on learning and loving with the most precious little boy in the world.

I'm grateful to have such a closely knit family to celebrate such a special day with. I know my son is incredibly loved at times like this.

Happy Birthday Owen. :)

Bush declares "Sanctity of Human Life Day"

Oh.my.god. Oh.my.god. It bears repeating, that was no typo.

I can't even find the words for this, this, this... beyond obnoxious, totally dangerous, thoroughly ignorant and completely inappropriate "holiday". Dubya decided that before he stepped down (and passed the torch to someone actually worthy of being called the President) he needed to declare "Sanctity of Human Life Day" as his 'effing Swan Song.

A snippet, if you will (found on feministing.com):
"All human life is a gift from our creator that is sacred, unique and worthy of protection. On National Sanctity of Human Life Day, our country recognizes that each person, including every person waiting to be born, has a special place and purpose in this world,"
"The most basic duty of government is to protect the life of the innocent. My administration has been committed to building a culture of life by vigorously promoting adoption and parental notification laws, opposing federal funding for abortions overseas, encouraging teen abstinence and funding crisis pregnancy programs."

I hate this man so much. I could get into all the reasons why this day curdles my blood (namely it's manipulative way of convincing people to get behind stripping women and families of their right to make decisions for their own lives, by naming this day something so lovely-sounding that it disguises its true purpose), but I would hope that my stance on abortion rights isn't unclear. I am so against these religious pro-lifers and the way they're trying to do away with a woman's right to her OWN FRICKIN' BODY that I want to scream. I can't get into this, it's too upsetting and I have too much housework to do! Stupid George Bush, why did you have to go and ruin my night?

Friday Fill-In

# 107

1. Enough with the cold!!

2. Residual coughing and hosting a party tomorrow causes me to be conflicted.

3. I've been craving KD - ugh!

4. My husband while on Twitter makes me laugh.

5. I wish I could go to Cuba with Jeff and Dashka next week.

6. Owen's birthday party and too many doctor's appointments to count has been on my mind lately.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to tons-o-cleaning, tomorrow my plans include my big boy's 1st birthday party and Sunday, I want to recuperate!

As always, taken from Friday Fill-Ins

Prepping for a party

Tomorrow will be a big day at our place. Owen's first birthday party is finally here!! We had to reschedule our last attempt because of a nasty flu-bug that had us all disgustingly out-of-commission, and I'm so excited that we're finally able to get this party started! There won't be as many people coming this time, seems a lot of our friends had last minute family things to deal with or vacations to take, but it actually kind of makes it better. The headcount was getting a little ridiculous!! For the last party, I think we had 25 or 30 people confirmed, and for this one only 15 or so - much more manageable in our smallish place. Also, this way we only have family coming (and my best friend, but she's like family, so I'll count her in that group! hee), so nobody will feel out of place, and I won't have to play hostess introduction games for the friends who wouldn't know many people.

We've made pretty good headway on the cleaning front, but we still have much to do. We're taking extra care with our disinfecting and thoroughness because we're all three getting over yucky throat/ear infections that plagued us most of last weekend and the early part of this week. Yes, back-to-back with our flus from the New Year! YAY!!! The doctor said on Sunday that 48 hours would be plenty of time to get us all "uncontagious", so I figure we're good to go. I just hope Luke's residual cough, and Owen's runny nose (caused by teething at this point, I swear!) won't freak anyone out... *fingers crossed*. Anyway, I have a lot of food prep left to do. I figure I'll try to get cookies baked and the mixtures for egg & tuna sandwiches made, and the rest will have to wait until tomorrow for freshness reasons. We still have the back half of the apartment to vacuum and mop, plus we need to throw some linens in the wash for our over-night company... the kitchen must be done tonight too! Yikes, what am I doing online right now?!?!? lol

Well, back to it! I'll post pictures and an update when our wonderful family hits the bricks!! lol

Friday Fill-in

1. The world is capable of healing.

2. "I'm not looking for anything" was the last thing I said.

3. I wonder if my husband resents me for staying in bed sick all day while he cares for our son alone...

4. There is something to be learned at the end of all things.

5. There’s something to be said for a good night's sleep.

6. In my dining room, scrapbooking, is where I want to be.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to reading The Jane Austen Book Club, tomorrow my plans include hopefully feeling well enough to meet a new friend from Australia, then have two old friends over for dinner, and Sunday, I want to give my hubby a bit of a break to race online.

As always, Friday Fill-ins can be found here: fridayfillins.blogspot.com

My new hobby

I've found a new hobby, and since starting a week or so ago, I've become totally addicted to it: scrapbooking! I sort of fell into it out of necessity. I needed a place to keep my son's mall photo with Santa, which is too big to fit in our photo albums, yet worthy of better attention than it would get being stuffed in a box and shoved under a bed somewhere. I thought of scrapbooking, and I soon realized that I have a lot of other mementos that I'd like to keep, like cards and newspaper clippings, that a scrapbook would be perfect for. And so it began! I've completed 3 pages so far, and have already collected quite a supply of scrapbook gear - stickers, archival pages, markers, double-sided tape, etc. I'm really surprised at how much fun I'm having with it.

I find the process of organizing and creating each page really satisfying. And even though I'll be the first to admit that I find scrapbooking to be kind of a dorky pastime, I'm so into it that I really don't care. I'm constantly thinking about the next step and looking forward to whatever free time I can finagle to tinker away at it. Suddenly, all cards and wrapping paper have new potential! I'm so disappointed now when I think of all the lovely notes that came my way that have ended up in recycling, simply because I didn't know what to do with them. I hate the idea of becoming a pack-rat, so I've been pretty cut-throat when it comes to tossing birthday and Christmas cards. Because really, who keeps a boring Christmas card from a distant Uncle you see once a year? But now, such cards will find new life in my scrapbooks, whether by cutting them all up to steal the images for embellishments, or to actually preserve the sentiments written inside, I like the idea that these gifts will go on in some way.

I really wanted to find some this weekend to work on a few pages, but since I'm feeling under the weather I'm not sure if I'll get a chance. It's one thing that you can't really do while in bed, and I'm shocked to find that not scrapbooking is the thing that's got me the most frustrated about being sick! *sigh* I feel like admitting that makes me a die-hard scrapbooker... are you judging me for it? ;)