Dear Mommy Body. I Heart YOU.

Approximately one nanosecond after we passed a motion to book WEM waterpark as a BG fundraiser/activity, the maternal physical self-loathing began. The BG Mom’s started trash talking their own bodies ……… and it hasn’t stopped since.
“Oh, the kids will love it, but I’m not going in.”
“Hahaha, I’ll help sell the tickets out front, the kids can go in with their Dad/Uncle/Grandpa.”
“Gahhhhh! Do WE have to go in with... them?”
Moms of Brander, lets promise ourselves something. Let’s promise to be kind to ourselves. Let’s be REALLY wild and crazy and just go swimming with our kids. Let’s break with tradition and leave the body hating at the door.
Now don’t get me wrong, by January 25 I have lost any sign that the sun has ever touched my body; ever. My pigmentation will have retreated back to my natural state of white (and I don’t mean like Caucasian, I mean white …… practically translucent. You can practically see my liver through my skin if the light is right, but I digress). By January 25, shaving will have become largely optional (as time allows), and I will have put on my annual layer of winter insulation (aka “yes, I’ll have another cookie”). By January 25 my pants will all still be tight so when I arrive at the pool and change, you will be able to see the imprint of the seam of my Mom-jeans on my inner thigh (for at least 45 minutes). By January 25 I will have not yet begun my 2015 resolution to ‘start working out’ and will be having a full on panic attack about the ravages of time on my, then, 503 month old body ……….. and saying it in months won’t be helping.
But I’m going in the pools anyways, and so should you. It is said ‘Time is a Thief’, so let’s not give any of our precious time with our kids away because we didn’t like the way we looked in a bathing suit. I am proposing something radical: let’s just accept our selves for the beautiful and amazing mothers we are and go swimming with our kids. Many of us bore these beautiful children into this world, and all of us use these bodies to love and care for them. We use these bodies to nurture and dote on them, nourish and clean up after them, praise and admonish them, raise and mother them. And that makes a Mother’s body, every Mother’s body, beautiful and amazing. Shouldn’t we give these bodies the love and respect they deserve?
So please, on January 25th, let’s go swimming. It will be the gift we give ourselves but also a gift to the kids, especially to the girls around us. Let’s teach them that our bodies are exactly what they need to be to go swimming and have fun, because they don’t need to look a certain way to do that. Let’s go ‘Mom’ the place up!

‘Twas the Night Before the Waterpark ~ with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore

‘Twas the night before the waterpark and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The swimsuits were hung by the front door with care,
In hopes that they weren’t too worn out to wear.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of waterslides swooshed through their heads;
And my spouse is contentedly snoring, asleep in a snap,
While I obsess over cover-ups, still far from a nap.

The image in my mirror is nothing to flatter,
I weepily moaned “could I be ANY fatter?”
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash,
Tore open the cupboard for my chocolate stash.

The moon shines on the foil wrapping below,
Illuminating the fact there was just one bite to go.
When, what to my self-loathing eyes does appear?
But a full length mirror and I’m standing quite near.

There I see a lady, a bit curvy and thick,
Her worst feature? I just couldn’t pick.
More rapid than Eagles the criticisms came,
She glared back at me daring each one to name.

“There jowly, there flabby, too many spots to list’em,
And is that a C-section scar that needs fixin’?
A Hobbit in height, you’re chubby and small!”
Then that face in the mirror, she started to bawl.

But I didn’t relent once I made her cry,
No, I added something about her “jiggly thigh”.
“Rolls! Cellulite! Saddle Bags!” The insults, they flew!
“Vericose Veins! Muffin Top, no matter what ab work you do!”

“Stop!” she screamed. “I need no more proof.”
“You see all those things, but I know the truth.”
And then her face softened but she held her ground,
She just wiped away tears, not making a sound.

And I took her all in, from her head to her foot.
Maybe, it’s ok that a Mom looks like she has kids afoot.
After all, she spends every moment picking up the slack,
She toils day and night to keep her family on track.

Her eyes …. How they glistened with love, warm and merry.
She has strong arms from hugging and each load she must carry.
She has strong, patient legs for walking, sometimes ever so slow,
When a bug or a rock is more urgent than where she must go.

Those rolls cuddled in children when they cut all their teeth.
Those knees bent to check beds for monsters underneath.
All those crow’s feet are because she laughs from her belly,
From every fun time, even when they get dirty and smelly.

Sure, she’s chubby and plump, but she tries to be her best self.
For her children make her feel she has an infinite wealth,
Of wisdom to bestow and kind words to be said,
Of adventures to share, and bedtime stories to be read.

And her kids don’t care about each physical flaw and quirk,
So she decided to go swimming, and to not be a jerk
To that Mom in the mirror because, goodness knows,
Her kids don’t care what she looks like as long as she goes.

She crept back up the stairs, heart light as the down on a thistle,
And promised to end self-defeating thoughts which make her bristle.
She peered in at her children, feelings of love taking flight,
They love her just as she is, and tonight … tonight that feels right.

Dear makers of bras, it's me again.

OK makers of bras ............. I know that I pick on you a lot. But SERIOUSLY?!?!
What's it gonna take to get a decent bra for a small/medium chested but big boobed girl for under $60?
It SHOULD be doable.
Here's the specs required to make this bra suitable since you seem to have ALL this wrong.
*It must come in 30, 32, 34, etc band sizes .......... DDs don't magically form only on girls with a chest of 36 or over.
*It MUST have consistent cup sizing ......... no more of this DD which might end up a C or might end up an EE ............. if there is no consistent unit of boob measurement then we might as well measure them in handfuls. Pffft.
*Some empathy for the gal hauling these chest boulders around would be nice. Do you think we love those thin little sharp edged straps you install on bras? Do you think we LIKE there to be permanent grooves notched into our shoulders from these straps digging in under the pressure? Would you like to know when bra straps started to create nerve damage into my arms???? When I was in my 20s, which is basically around the same time they stopped being able to support them selves!!!! Here's a clue, and I don't even have a physics degree, but heavy weights are best supported when the weight is evenly distributed along it's support........ this isn't rocket science ............ it isn't even "rocket science" (see what I did there? ..... 'cause sometimes boobies are referred to as rockets ......... you know in the 50s ........ but sometimes) ANYWAYS it's just common sense. PLEASE, for crying out loud, MAKE THE STRAPS WIDER!!! And it wouldn't kill you to pad the straps either.
*The cup itself must be capable of supporting soft tissue. I know you all think it should work just fine when you test it out on all those molded plastic boob mannequins in your Brassieratory but those boobs do not possess the density nor behaviour of real boobs. The top edge must, I repeat MUST, be yielding enough so that boob tissue does not squeeze out creating a second boob ....... a boob muffin top if you will. But it must also be supportive enough to keep the boob from popping out randomly when we trip, bounce, bend over, or move in any way. It must hold the girls in. Containment is key.
*As we get older they get softer, and as much as we all enjoy what is the race to see which nipple will arrive at the belly button first, we need some support. Please be aware of boob placement. They need the help. If the bra can not keep them even and at an appropriate latitude then it is not much good to us.
*The nipple needs not be noticeable. Now, let me qualify this: I am a fan of nipples. They fed my children, they give the boob leadership, they are unisex, and they really complete the boob. I think the working nipple should be whipped out wherever the mother it is attached to needs to use it to feed her baby. I scoff at the fact we have societally become so prudish about nipples ........... good grief, they're just nipples. But here's the thing. I dress in the morning while brushing my teeth and yelling (erm, sweetly calling) at my children to get up. If I could find a way to cut their lunchbox fruit at the same time I would. I don't want to have to make sure my nipples are centered .......... and there's nothing better than arriving somewhere and realizing one nipple is facing a little northerly, and the other is travelling due southeast. It just doesn't look professional. Also, no woman ever wants her nipples to act as weather barometers. No one should be able to gauge how cold it is outside when I enter the building. When I'm at work no one says "Hey, has it warmed up out there? Can you go outside so we can attempt to take the temperature with your boobs?" No, we use a thermometer. So for the love of Pete can we make the cups sufficiently lined already.
*Lastly, can we discuss colour? We're not dead yet. We may be overburdened by the girls but we're still sorta attached to them. A nice variety of colours would be nice. And stop it with the skin toned already, you're never going to get it right. Bras aren't makeup, they don't have to match our skin.
*Boobies of larger size are discriminated against at the check out. We are paying WAY too much for this equipment but yet we need it most. Enough! Find a way to make a decent bra for under $60 (I know I said this already but it bears repeating). And if you can do it for under $40 I will kiss you full on the mouth.
Thank you.

The truth about family road trips. The parts no one shares along with their ‘perfect happy family’ pictures on Instagram. What you need to know.

If you can make it out of the front drive without someone already saying “I’m hungry” or “I have to POOOOOOP!” then that’s it. You might as well go back in the house and call it a success ……. Because it’s not going to get any better than that. If you insist on continuing on then set the bar low. Really very low.

You will have, with laser precision and efficiency, set out one outfit per day per person in the days leading up to the trip. But after careful consideration, you added 2 foul weather ensembles and an emergency change, then after some further deliberation you will have added a round of raincoats, sweaters, hoody’s, beach shoes, hiking shoes, nice-out-for-dinner-clothes-which-you-already-know-you-won’t-wear, rain boots, beach towels, sun hats, rain hats, ”I’m with stupid” T-shirts for playful candids, first aid kit, blankets, candles, flares, 20 days’ worth of vitamins (in case we break down for an extra week), bottled water, enough granola bars to cross the dessert, games-you-know-you-will-never-play, books, swimsuits, and whatever else you came upon that looked remotely useful as you haphazardly wandered house in state of pre-travel anxiety. You have now weighed down minivan past Maximum Gross Vehicle Weight limit in all 10 provinces and 3 territories; and risk divorce by adding even a single map from Visitor information centres which you will be forced to visit as you have forgotten maps.

Adults measure distance in time between well (ok, reasonably) researched hotels rooms for which google produced numerous reviews with the word “clean” and no news stories with the phrases “victim discovered”, “police standoff”, “drug bust”, or “ancient burial ground”. Kids measure distance in time it takes to wear parents down into mindless ice cream purchasing zombies.

The second your bowels hear the word “road trip” they will become as dry as the Mojave desert, producing only rabbit like turds as rare and precious as diamonds ……………. Your children’s bowels, however, will liquefy. Happy travels.

When you finally feel you can go number 2, the only bathroom for miles will be a truck stop/site of several biker murders …….. and (although statistically you know that the first stall is least used) you will choose the second stall (because the first stall contains what appears to be a human spleen). At this point 2 loud women will enter the bathroom mid conversation and proceed to choose the 2 stalls on either side of you (one of them is apparently comfortable with spleen in bowl) and continue conversation through your stall. The 3 rabbit poops you may have been able to deposit climb back up. And such is regularity on-the-road.

By day 3 your youngest child will have spilled on 7 outfits and you all will smell of cheese.

Your brain will be tricked into believing hotel shampoo holds the intrinsic value of platinum and you will hoard it like a treasure obsessed troll.

You. Need. To. Bring. A. Bucket.

Lysol wipes. Pack them and use them at the very least on hotel light switches and tv remotes. In hotels those are all covered with Ebola and bodily fluids ……… trust me, I googled it. Don’t google it.

As you gaze out upon rolling hills, vast agricultural quilts, breathtaking mountain-scapes, glacier blue lakes, and sweet little villages where time stands still, your right brain will dutifully declare “this is why we do this”, “this is why we came”. And your left brain will smart assedly play the banjo song from Deliverance.

Highways will inexplicably smell of skunk, or poop, or skunky poop at regular intervals.

Your spouse will start to refer to the GPS lady as his "other wife" ........ and he will think she is a better navigator.

You see more wildlife exploded along the roadside than in the nature along the roadside and it’s really tough to identify the species of innards.

When I was a child, hitch hikers all appeared like eager, albeit dirty, young adventurers ………… now they all look like a Mug Shot. When did they change the uniform?

You can’t stop anywhere on a road trip, or even slow down really, for less than $70.

Leg hair on a road trip grows at 3 times its natural rate. And all you ever pack is shorts.

By your 4^th $100 fuel up you will be despondent and tempted to rob the gas jockey ……….. Suddenly the road has turned you into Thelma and Louise.

By day 6 everyone will have (despite packing 5 tubes of 30 SPF) the worst sunburn of their life ………… until next year’s road trip.

Day one, you have an expectation that everyone will eat at LEAST 5 fruits and vegetables a day ………… by day 5 you just want them to eat one thing that did not come from a wrapper.

The people (family) who break up your string of hotel stays by providing you and your offspring with beds and food IN THEIR HOMES (and are willing to put up with your collective road bum, and travel arguments, and Weird) are Saints. Absolute Saints. Give them something nice ……….. and maybe some of that pilfered platinum hotel shampoo.

You will discover the mind is fascinating in its inaccuracy. Over the course of 11 days on the road you will have (honestly) considered leaving your children on the side of the road at least 10 times, you will become an expert in flailing your arm behind you into back seats, and achieved mastery of ‘clenched teeth screaming at the children so the people driving beside you don’t know you are losing your shit’. And yet after one …… ONE good night’s sleep in your own bed it will be the “best trip you can remember”. It’s amazing. It’s sort of how you decided to become pregnant again after you conveniently forgot what it was like to have a Thanksgiving turkey sized organism ripped from your body through your vagina or C-section hole. It’s a handy sort of amnesia.

It’s really worth limiting technology time on a road trip …. But not while driving. Then, they should watch dvds and be handed snacks constantly. It’s the only way you’ll make it. Many pioneers travelled for 100+ days to reach their homesteads and not a movie player in sight. I can’t even imagine. I bet they just traded kids the whole way ………….. “Who’s taking Jed? I’ll take Sara if you take Jed. OK. Seriously he has to go today ……. Anyone? I don’t even need him back until Minnesota.”

When you travel, you give yourself permission to not care. Not care about cleanliness (except remotes …… seriously clean those), time, routine, or schedules. You can wake when you wake, eat when you’re hungry, read when you’re bored, hike without a map, and there are moments of true bliss. But it’s a bliss that comes from simplicity and focusing on the moment. It’s a part of travel we need to practice more at home. Bring home a little of that with you. You will be better for it.

You will SEE your children as if for the first time on a road trip. There will be those moments when you SEE them. And you will fall so deeply in love it will hurt.

There will be a few shots you have lined up in the camera and just before you snap, you will put the camera down and just hold your breath watching your children (or child) just be. Playing in a tide pool, studying a cricket in the tall grass, jumping up to grab the biggest leaves ………. And you will just watch. And you will know nothing, no picture, no video, could be more perfect than what you are watching in real time. And you will put your camera away.

We all breathe sweeter outside.

Road trips build memories. Memories that aren’t real. They are made of feelings and tastes and sounds and smells. They are the feel of your sleeping child’s heartbeat against your chest as you schlep them into the umpteenth hotel, how hard they laughed that day at the beach, how delicious the greasy fish and chips at the pier were, the sweetness of those 6 wild strawberries you spent an hour searching for, the incredible doodles in your kid’s road journal, the way you kept drawing “10 storey building” car scavenger hunt game card while in the middle of the country, the dappled sunlight bouncing off your kid’s faces as they ran back to tell you about a huge bug, the smell of pancakes, waking up in a warm tangle, and splashing (so much splashing). Those things aren’t REALLY what filled the minutes on your road trip, but they are the parts that counted ………. And that makes them real enough.

 

 

 

 

Robin Williams - Finding the Funny

Ugh. August 12, 2014 ……….. the day after celebrity Robin Williams allegedly committed suicide. I’ve had to turn off the news, the radio, and the social media watershed as they turn their intensely myopic and often voraciously repugnant eye to the post mortem ……………. They will now pick apart this celebrity’s life and career until they ‘lay bare the truth’, ‘expose the issues’, ‘make sense of this tragedy’ …………. But all they will find is sad dry bones because the media machine won’t stop to consider when the REAL man died. No one can see when his light started to flicker and no one can know when it finally went out.

There is no answer for this, no resolution, and the heartless world of fame cannot comprehend a person with a heart. It’s all very simple really. He died, like so many do, in terrible pain, in terrible loneliness, in terrible despair, and ultimately in terrible violence. Some time ago I wrote a blog entry called 40 things I know by 40 and I included this “I love to laugh. It’s my favourite activity. I wish it were an Olympic event. I think great comedians are the highest form of our ‘so called’ evolved species, because the best ones are heart and soul and joy and intelligence and observation and truth at the point of intersection. And that’s amazing.” And I still believe it. Comedians seem to be shining lights of genuineness in a sea of fake. Celebrity and Fame are almost the new religion and we worship dutifully at it’s alter. We place our famous gods on pedestals and many feed upon attention, but among them are those who see there is no ladder to climb down, and they starve. I think many of those lights are comedians and that is why so very many of them end up dead. Whether the instrument of their death is drugs, or alcohol, or food, or sex, or a willful act of violence the end is the same.

Why were they funny in the first place then? Why get yourself famous if you can’t handle it? These and other insensitive questions will be asked. Finding the funny in life is a coping mechanism for those who feel a lot, have very open hearts, and are cursed with keen observational powers; especially where they observe pain, oppression, irony, villainy, cruelty, and I think (above all) how human beings diverge from their real purpose: which surely is simple joyful and kind living. Finding the funny is an act of faith when you feel over whelmed by the experiences of life. It is an affirmation that life has beauty and purpose. When they share the funny it nourishes themselves and others and sometimes they change minds and hearts, and when you change minds and hearts you change the world. Finding the funny is powerful. Robin Williams himself said “Comedy is acting out Optimism” and I don’t think it can be said better than that. I LOVE comedians, and am as guilty as anyone in this desire to see and hear more of what they have to say, but at some point the machine wants too much, and they give too much of it away. Everyone has to hold on to their own light ………….. A candle may be able to light a 1000 more and never burn out faster (as the proverb says), but it might be snuffed out by 1000s of grabbing hands.

So turn it off. Turn away from this fortune making examination of his death and go put on Mrs Doubtfire (or whatever your favourite was) and then …………… then go out and light some candles with that perfect spark of joy.

 

A Rainbow Room Family.

 

Sometimes when you have a mind that wanders constantly, it finds itself standing in the middle of what may be a good idea. Sometimes. There are moments, to be sure, when you doubt an idea’s worth but unless you give it wings, how will you ever know? So here’s mine …… here goes nothing.

I’ve been doing a bit of research into the issue of homelessness in my city and have become interested in how to open the general public’s minds to creative solutions to homing people without ghettoizing or marginalizing them. How do we make the task of homing people respectfully everyone’s responsibility? The more I read the more I touch upon a frustrating statistic. Despite the fact we have come so far in Canada on the issue advancing the rights and joyful acceptance of the LGBTQ citizenry, we still find (as study after study shows) that between 25% and a whopping 40% of homeless youth identify as LGBTQ and furthermore they cite it as a main reason they ran away. Now interestingly, the latest studies are showing about 5% of Canadians identify as LGBTQ. I know the common wisdom is that it’s 10%, and that may be, but either way it’s obviously a distinguishing factor for a disproportionate number of homeless youth. Anecdotally there is a good deal of consensus that we live in a time when it’s easier than ever for people to proudly and freely BE who they are, and love who they may …… but that clearly doesn’t mean it’s easy for everyone.

The kids who are growing up knowing they are gay, or trying to find out about themselves, in families which are not accepting are running away in tragic numbers. Studies show that homeless youth are the most vulnerable of any people living without a home. It’s a slippery slope from that place of running away to adding the many additional challenges and life problems that a person will predictably accumulate living on the streets. And it’s sad; so very sad.

So here’s my idea: Rainbow room families. The deal is to simply place a rainbow sticker on the front door to signal your willingness to help and shelter any young person you know, who feels their sexual orientation or gender identification has left them rejected from their own family. The rules are simple. Any family participating must promise to honour the rights of the child who comes to them, to help, and be a safe place for them share their fears. They must contact the child’s family to let them know their child is safe, and begin the search for professional agencies to assist. In extreme cases they can provide a temporary (or maybe not so temporary) place to stay while the youth attempts reconciliation with their own family or finds a safe new beginning. The child will need to agree to inform their own families of their whereabouts with your assistance, they will need to observe rules of the hosting home (especially if staying for a period of time) like curfews, bedtimes, reasonable chores, finishing at least high school and then working or volunteering, participating in needed therapies or treatments for drugs or emotional issues which may have begun while living with a difficult home life, abstinence from drug abuse, and responsible sexual behaviours. These kids will be YOUR children’s friends, children in your neighbourhood, kids YOU know who would be very well served by a safe place to be when they feel the streets are better than home. It’s the community connection that’s missing, I think ………. The ‘where do you go when you can’t go home’ before the couch surfing with questionable adults, before the shelters, before the streets.

Could a Rainbow room family make the difference? I don’t know. But it seems such a simple place to start to try. I, for one, look at the faces of my son’s friends and my heart breaks thinking about them running away from a safe home just to BE (or try to find) who they are. If our family can be the place they think of before they are lost to despair then I am so happy to be that safe place for as long as they need. They say it takes a village to raise a child, but maybe we need to remind kids the village is there for them. If it’s as simple as a little rainbow sticker to let them know it’s ok, a safe place to say aloud who they are, and a warm bed if needed then that would be wonderful.

An open letter to the Government of Alberta regarding Schools in Developing Communities.

Edmonton is desperately in need of new schools and the 3 you announced just aren’t enough. In fact, if you could open those 3 schools tomorrow they would open full. You are well aware they are not enough. You are well aware that the underutilized school spaces in the inner city and older areas are NOT where the children are. You realize the children are being punished for adult’s failure to plan and you have the power to absolve them. Where is the leadership and will to fix this?

You have always been a government of dollars, of numbers, and not particularly swayed by the emotions of society. So here is the picture in numbers. 

·         Edmonton is a big city and unfortunately few people can walk to work or school. The average adult's commute by private vehicle, transit, or foot is 23 minutes (one way). http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/11-008-x/2011002/t/11531/tbl001-eng.htm The Alberta Government is suggesting that it is perfectly acceptable to ask a child to commute for, at least, twice that time on the school bus just to arrive at their “designated catchment school” each and every day (the first children onto my sons’ elementary school bus route each day ride for a full hour each way). The newest areas of the SW are now being designated “catchment schools” which are so far away that the bus ride times are going to top 1 ½ hours (one way). No child in a city as prosperous and populated as Edmonton should be asked to spend 3 hours on a bus to attend the closest school which can accommodate them.

 

·         You announced an additional new Catholic school in Windermere even though you know that almost 75% of Edmonton’s children fall under Edmonton Public’s “School District Residency” or jurisdiction (presumably this was to again “remind EPSB of their 66% overall utilization rate while Edmonton Catholic boasts 75%” even though you KNOW that those unused “spots” aren’t where the kids are). But Edmonton’s housing vacancy rate is lingering at around 1.4 %, http://www.cmhc-schl.gc.ca/odpub/esub/64379/64379_2013_A01.pdf?fr=1389313556527 and home sales are, for the most part, pacing demand for home purchases http://www.cmhc-schl.gc.ca/odpub/esub/64343/64343_2013_B02.pdf?fr=1389314642071 so it’s fairly clear that the underutilized schools are in areas where the population has merely aged and the kids aren’t there to attend the schools (we can't go around kicking people out of their homes that that families with small children can live there, can we?). Also, it would be hard to encourage the turnover to a younger demographic if these neighbourhood’s schools are all closing, so it’s not as simple as just closing schools to solve the problem in a big city is it? It must also be pointed out that many of these “underutilized” inner city schools are “full” of children who face sizable socio economic, language, and family challenges and that their school closing would present yet another huge barrier to their access to equitable educational and life opportunities; but you know that already, as well, don’t you? http://www.edmonton.ca/city_government/documents/ELEVATE.pdf#xml=http://search1.edmonton.ca/texis/ThunderstoneSearchService/pdfhi.txt?query=elevate&pr=www.edmonton.ca&prox=page&rorder=750&rprox=250&rdfreq=0&rwfreq=0&rlead=750&rdepth=0&sufs=0&order=r&cq=&id=52ceabb77  Even if EPSB closed the schools all that would change is a percentage number on a bean counter’s page, the available school spaces still would NOT be where so many of the children ARE.

·         The Province has no numbers to protect kids. Aside from a few “recommendations” there is no maximum number of children who can be placed in a classroom, no maximum number of students a school can be expected to hold, and no square footage which the Province deems an unsuitable place for learning. Consequently my kid’s school currently has 568 students enrolled (when it is considered full at 404 students. This is based on the Province’s ACU School Capacity calculation http://files.epsb.ca/schoolprofiles/latest/226.pdf ). But at this size we started the year with a shocking 30 children in one of our English Kindergarten classes, a class in the staffroom, above “recommended” class sizes for almost every class in the school, 20 classrooms of kids who can’t get enough time in either gym or music, and can’t even have an all school assembly because we have too many children to safely gather them now. And, for the record, the staffroom was used as a classroom this year because a few years ago we had a class on the stage (trying to learn while gym classes were running on the other side of what is essentially a curtain where I would estimate their minutes of concentrated learning each day to be ZERO) and the school thankfully decided it would not put learners in that position again. http://education.alberta.ca/department/ipr/archive/commission/report/reality/school/implement.aspx

·         The city of Edmonton is growing fast. Edmonton Public School Board was home to almost 7000 more students this year (2013/14) than in the 2009/2010 school year. Most elementary schools are now ‘bottom heavy’ with far more division 1 students (k-3) than division 2 students (4-6). https://sites.google.com/a/epsb.ca/acc-test/ These kids will have to grow through the grades and the rates aren’t dropping off behind them. In fact about 20% of the city’s kindergarten students live in the new and developing areas of the City where there are currently very few schools, and up to ¼ of the city’s over 40000 preschoolers live there too. http://www.edmonton.ca/city_government/documents/Summary_Report_of_All_Questions_Edmonton_2012.pdf  There is a toddler tidal wave (a school age tsunami if you will) coming, and like a wave their numbers will flow through 13 years of schooling (grades k to 12) and space will be needed for them.

We are ALL perfectly aware that the district failed to close underutilized schools, that the city has allowed for unchecked development, that the builders and realtors have spun tall tales of schools just waiting to be built, that hundreds of families bought knowing there was no school close to their family home. We are all aware of the colossal lie we have been told and chose to believe. Right now, we need someone to lead us out of the mess.

 

Those who idiotically (and obtusely) cry “Nanny state” or “Socialist!” every time a government regulates growth or sets standards for community planning need to be challenged. They have been loudest, longest but they do not speak for everyone. When we fail to vote in a government who serves the people, we fail to GET a government who serves the people. Our society needs leadership which puts the greater good first, and employs long term strategies and thinking to get us there.

 

But the government of Alberta has consistently put the highest income individuals ahead of seniors, workers, families, and most of all children. Sadly, the party waiting in the wings, trying to say all the right things and likely to become the next Alberta government follows the same agenda of putting individual privileges over societal rights and responsibilities; ahead of the greater good. They say the wealth will trickle down, and that the private will act in the public interest. I have not seen that happen. Not in the large scale, organized way we need. Our society needs a benevolent government to do that. Where is that leadership?

There IS a way we can achieve a fair and just society without homogenizing it, and without removing individual opportunities from it. A good place to start would be ensuring the next generations coming up have equal access to a great education. Good leadership can teach the people to think long term again.

For now, you promised that you could be a party who could adapt, who could respond to the needs of Alberta’s people, and you have not kept that promise. Announce new schools for where the kids are. Now. And build them before you fail the 100s and 100s of children counting on you. Because they are NOT just numbers.

 

 

Selfish Driver Rant ...... # 1000!

I am entering my 7^th year as a Mommy at my children’s school and one concern has existed for all my years. What’s that you ask? Selfish parents who put their own and other people’s children at risk everyday just by being selfish. It’s pathetic. And I’m tired of it, and so are many other parents. I’m going to cut through the niceties and excuses here. I’m taking off my politically correct hat and cutting loose. You may recognize yourself in some of these. Good. I hope you feel ashamed. Today, I don’t have a problem with that. Today, I’m giving myself permission to tell it like it is.

You being perpetually late isn’t my problem, nor is it the kids. Drive the limit anyways; and slower once you are near the school. If you hit someone the police aren’t going to accept “but I’m 15 minutes late for work” as a valid excuse for injuring a child. The child’s parents will hate you FOREVER. The same goes for whatever jackass-maneuver you feel entitled to because you feel your time is more valuable than someone else’s. It isn’t ever ok to double park to dump your kids in the middle of the road, or pretend you don’t see the pedestrians or crossing guards. It’s selfish, and makes you look like a terrible parent. Also, we talk about you, A LOT.

It is never ok to use the crosswalk zone, fire hydrant zone, bus zone, or handicapped zone as your own personal parking spot. These things are there for the safety of other’s. Acting as if fate favours you and there’s magically a free spot available every morning for you and only you is beyond obtuse. Those areas have no cars in them because it is illegal for cars to park there and because the parents who DO park there look like assholes, most people know that. When people do it, we talk about them, A LOT.

Showing up at a school where there are well over 500 kids and expecting the right to dump your kids in the half block in front of the school is insane. Unless you or your child has a physical reason why they cannot walk a little ways to school then you should be expecting a bit of leg work. I grow so weary of Moms who spend hundreds of dollars on gym memberships, personal trainers, and diets yet won’t walk 2 blocks back to school from their safely and legally parked car. Now I’m not sure if they’re as dumb as they are playing at being, but telling Parent Parking Patrol volunteers that the drop off zone is too small and needs to be enforced is not helpful. Even if they could legally enforce it, it still only has 7 spaces and 200 cars worth of parents all expect to get them. Now I was never great at Math but I’m pretty sure that it won’t add up. How about ditching the ridiculous 4 inch stilettos and Italian greased-sole designer footwear for something sensible and parking a block away, then taking a nice stroll back with your kids? You will all benefit from the fresh air, exercise, family conversation, and you will start to realize all the great people and happenings at your kid’s school. You seem to be putting Fashion over Family and Friendship. And seriously, you too-well-dressed-to-get-out-of-my-car-or-engage-with-the-unwashed-masses-at-my-kid’s-school parents, we all talk about you, A LOT.

Your kids are great! Awesome in fact. And they know the rules. They can, and will, walk to school from a safe drop off point a block or two away responsibly if you let them. So let them. They can do it. I know they know how because they look helplessly at the parking patrol parents when you berate them for trying to get you to cross at the crosswalk when you’re too busy to walk the 14 metres and want to jaywalk instead. They know what to do and when you don’t support them in making the right and safe choice you look unbelievably insensitive. It’s shocking that a parent could take a child by the hand and jaywalk them across a dangerously congested road 14 metres from a marked crosswalk. Lazy is too kind of a word for that. Arriving on the other side and telling the volunteer parent that the ‘whole crosswalk should be moved for their convenience’ is the crème-de-la-facepalm and I would honestly smack you if it weren’t for the already apologetic and devastated look on your child’s face. It’s especially wonderful when you are reminded to use the crosswalk and you berate the volunteer (or even the police) because we’re ‘wasting their time’ and we’re ‘stupid’, all in front of their child. They see the helpers at their school as kind and the Police as good and don’t understand why you don’t. They KNOW you’re doing the wrong thing and you’re bullying them into doing it too. But don’t worry, with your excellent modelling of boneheaded and thoughtless behaviour, they’ll be just like you soon enough. We talk about YOU, A LOT.

I could go on and on about the stuff you do because you feel entitled. Perhaps the Porsche/Beamer/Mercedes/Lexus/Cadillac/Fill-in-the-blank-Luxury-Label salesmen convinced you that the lower castes would tremble before you as you drove through in this status statement, but we’re not afraid of you. And it really ticks us off when you appear to feel your wealth entitles you to special treatment. Study after study shows people in the highest income levels are more likely to engage in anti-social acts which break rules to improve their own position. Here’s just one http://www.pnas.org/content/109/11/4086.short And a LOT of the data came from looking at how they drive. Hmmmmm. Apparently failure to yield to pedestrians, speeding, cutting off other drivers, dangerous swerving, and parking infractions were all documented at significantly higher rates in drivers of Luxury vehicles. Good to know we’re not just making it up. Now, I am aware that some of you see your wealth as luck and live gratefully, and you know the fact that you worked very hard to achieve it doesn’t mean you worked any harder than the vast majority of  lower income, hardworking people around you. But a bunch of you, like a huge bunch, think you deserve more than your fair share, and I gotta say it stinks. It makes us feel you achieved your wealth, not through hard work at all, but through a willingness to do immoral and opportunistic things we simply wouldn’t. So if you wonder why we have an extra load of stink eye as you aggressively accelerate through the cross walk as kids are trying to cross, maybe it’s because you’re making that study true. You seem to know a lot about how to be financially successful but not much about becoming a successful human being. We talk about you, a LOT.

I also get that sometimes, we're just rushed and rationalize that's it's just once and a while, but with 200 cars coming through daily that once and a while adds up too. And you can't expect others to see the difference. To an exhausted, stressed out parking patrol mommy you look just like the people who do it every day. You are the ones we can really reach, you are the ones we know are on side, you are the ones who care. So we're asking you to care every day, each time. Be late. It's ok. If everyone really just saved it for dashing in to pick up a sick kid or dropping off 400 hot lunch sandwiches (or whatever ACTUALLY makes sense) then we wouldn't need to worry. We'd be the community we are meant to and CAN be.

So let’s recap. When you place convenience over courtesy, and self-entitlement over safety it is really dangerous for others. You can brush it off as much as you want but that truth still sticks. You don’t get to think of yourself as a good person when you consistently play Russian roulette with other people’s safety. Especially when some of those other people are your own kids and I don’t know how you look at yourself in the mirror. The kids know how to be safe and good to each other. YOUR kids know. Turns out, we can learn A LOT from the kids.

Get over yourself, drive like a good person, and we’ll stop talking.