Christmas and Labour

About a week before Christmas, I began to think of the Christmas story in a new light. I was thinking about what it must have been like for Mary to be in labour that night. Was she already having contractions as they went from Inn to Inn? Was there an edge of desperation in this search? Was Joseph just hoping she could hang on a little longer, stay on the donkey long enough for them to find some place to stay? Did Mary's impending birth and the mess and noise involved suddenly change Innkeeper's minds, so that they had "no room"?

Who delivered baby Jesus? There is no midwife, or other female mentioned in the story, so one must assume that Joseph the humble carpenter delivered the baby of his bride-to-be in a stable surrounded by horses and cows. I suspect that neither of them, especially Joseph, had previous experience with childbirth. It must have been a somewhat harrowing experience.

And then, after all that, when Mary was exhausted and elated and trying to figure out how to nurse the baby, there were shepherds and sheep everywhere who wanted to see the baby. Did she want them to go away so she could get some sleep? Was she strong enough to greet them? Were the shepherds loud and boisterous or gentle and respectful? Did they help Joseph clean up the stable and get everything sorted out?

All these questions have started bouncing around in my head. But the image that stays with me the most is one of a young girl, in labour, riding a donkey. She is trying to stay calm and focused. She knows they will find a place to stay soon. She trusts that God will not allow his son to be born in a ditch or the middle of a city street. But it is looking more and more hopeless as time goes on. And the pains are coming faster, and she is trying to contain the pain and not be overwhelmed by this full body experience until they get to a safe place.

There is all this unspoken fear and suspense and determination behind the story. All this pain and mess and reality behind the simple words, "While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."

My Two Cents on the Child Care Issue

We here in Canada are in the middle of an election right now and one of the issues on the table is a proposal for a National Child Care Program. The former government, the Liberals, were planning to create a national subsidized Day Care program. Now that they are electioneering they are calling it and "Early Learning and Child Care Program". They are saying that they would like all Canadians to have access to the best quality care for their children.

As a stay at home Mom, I find this slightly offensive. Are they suggesting that a paid government employee can give my child better quality care than I can? That just because he or she has a degree in Early Childhood Education they are more qualified to raise my son than I, his mother? That he will learn more being in a regimented programmed environment with multiple children his age than he will spending time dialoguing and reading one-on-one with me, or helping and observing me bake, clean, cook, socialize and shop?

I am not saying that it is not important for there to be good quality day care for those who are interested in going back to work. I am just wondering why it is fair for billions of dollars to be put into a child care program which excludes those who choose to care for their own children. It seems to me that this is yet another way in which parents who choose to care for their children are subtly demeaned by Canadian society. If we were really "good" people we would want our children to be a part of this "early learning" program and get back to being productive members of society by rejoining the workforce.

Doesn't this suggest an underlying social agenda? One that encourages all Canadians to have families where both parents work and the children go to state run Day Care and then to state run schools. An agenda that teaches children from one year of age onwards the norms and values that the state desires to promote, as opposed to any ethics or beliefs a parent might wish to pass on to their child.

Personally, I am not up for this agenda. I think it is silly of Paul Martin to accuse the Conservative Party of having an "hidden agenda" when they offer to give all parents of children under 6 money to spend on the child care method of their choice. Parents can use the money to subsidize their Day Care expenses, to pay a babysitter, to enrich their single income family standard of living, or, if they really want to, to buy beer and popcorn. It seems to me that giving every family money means giving every family a choice. Yes, such a plan does support stay at home parents. But it also equally supports parents who go back to work and want to pay for another child care alternative. In my mind that is a equitable system. It is a system that supports authentic diversity as opposed to covert hegemony.

Snow Days -- Part Two

DO NOT READ THIS POST UNTIL YOU HAVE READ PART ONE! IT WILL RUIN THE PUNCHLINE. CLOSE YOUR EYES AND SCROLL DOWN TO THE LONG ANECDOTE UNDER THE TITLE "SNOW DAYS - PART ONE". THEN RETURN AND READ THIS SAD AND SORRY CONCLUSION.

So, my husband goes to get the hood of the car unfrozen and get the car started. You know what happened? He got someone to drive him over there. He got into the car. And it STARTED! No need to pry the hood open, no need to get a boost . . . some people have all the luck!

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The Warrior PrincessYou are strong, courageous, and dynamic, a woman of action. You have an iron will and a sharp tongue. Indecisive, weak, or wishy-washy people test your patience. You tend to grow bored quickly and yearn for excitement.Role Models: Brunhilde/The Valkyries, XenaYou are most likely to: Lead your people to victory against an army of orcs.
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Snow Days -- Part 1 -- Wednesday Morning

Remember my post yesterday about the snow? Well, it is still snowing. The roads are a mess. You can only drive in the tracks of other vehicles, and then only if you can manage to get out of your driveway without being stuck, because there is over a foot of snow now. The roads in town haven't been cleared yet because the plows are still busy trying to get the highway cleared.

Today was our playgroup's Christmas party, and the last playgroup until January. I decided that I had to go because I missed last week, and if you miss too many weeks you get out of the loop. So my intrepid son and I drove to playgroup with no problems. We almost got stuck backing out of our driveway, but with just a bit of a kick at the packed snow around us, I got us free. We just didn't stop on the way there, and we kept the car in second gear.

Everything was all good. We had fun at the Christmas party. Andrew wandered around and enjoyed to toys for once -- he is really just getting old enough to have fun. I sat and drank coffee and visited -- I am just really starting to get to know people.
Santa came, and he got a book wrapped up so it seemed "new". He only tried to unplug the christmas tree twice, and didn't try to steal anyone esle's presents, so it was a succcess.

Until we got out to the car. Then I realized I had left my lights on, and the battery was dead. So I found another woman who offered to jump the car. At which point I discovered that the hood was frozen shut. No matter how much I chipped away at the hood, I could not get it to open enough to actually pop the hood and get at the catch that opens the hood.

So the woman offered to give me a ride. Which I thought was cool, except that she was also giving another woman and her child a ride, and there were no back seats in her van. So Andrew and I got the seats, and both of their kids sat in the back without seatbelts. I didn't feel very comfortable with that, so I ended up walking. Yes, WALKING, with my 25 lb toddler who was not wearing his full snow gear and had exposed legs. I tucked his legs into my jacket and waded through the foot and a half of unplowed snow on the four blocks home. It was my workout for the day, I tell you!

Now I and Andrew are at home and warm, and the problem of our car has been left with my husband. We'll see what happens.

Corner Gas

I don't have tv, although I own a television set and a DVD player, it is not hooked up to any means of receiving a television signal. But I have been hearing about this show called Corner Gas, which is about Saskatchewan. When I was in the video store the other day, they had last season's episodes on DVD, so I decided to rent one.

My husband and I wathced all 6 episodes in a day and a half. It is such a funny show, and so many of the details are so true of Saskatchewan. It is sort of like a Canadian version of Seinfeld. There are 8 main characters who all live in Dog River, Saskatchewan. The main place of action is the gas station and attached diner. It is basically just about these quirky characters lives.

Brent Butt, the producer / writer / main character is brilliant. The show is full of funny plot lines, quirky characters and great dialogue. One of my favorite techniques that is used by the show is the "flashback" or "dream sequence". It is used to flash to what the character's are thinking, or to what else is happening in town. There are also some great cameos, like when Brent kicks the Tragically Hip out of his garage when they are pracicing. They say, "But we were just working on lyrics" and he replies "Don't tell me what the poets are doing".

I also like the Saskatchewan humour that is added into it. For example, in one episode Brent's mom makes nanaimo bars. But she insists on calling them "Nanaimo - type Saskatchewan bars". That is Sasktachewan through and through. Or when the police officers pretend not to know that the rest of their baseball team is drinking, and the team pretends not to know that they know that the officers know, just so no one will have an akward moment. It's pure Canadian, especially prairie, politeness.

If you have never seen this show, all I can say is get a hold of a copy and watch it. It is so funny that we have now watched the entire first two seasons in the last week. Out of all 26 ish episodes, there was only one we didn't think was hilarious. This is Canadian humour at its best. Enjoy.

We've got SNOW!

It is SNOWING. The capitals have to be there, because it is not just snowing. It is SNOWING. I shovelled about 20 cm of snow out of the driveway around 1:30 and two hours later you can't even tell that I did anything! I guess our white Christmas has come.

Is this accurate, or what?

You're A Prayer for Owen Meany!

by John Irving

Despite humble and perhaps literally small beginnings, you inspire
faith in almost everyone you know. You are an agent of higher powers, and you manifest
this fact in mysterious and loud ways. A sense of destiny pervades your every waking
moment, and you prepare with great detail for destiny fulfilled. When you speak, IT
SOUNDS LIKE THIS!


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Food for Thought

This great quote was tagged onto someone's signiture on a message board I post on a lot:

"When a man steals to satisfy hunger, we may safely conclude that there is something wrong in society -- so when a woman destroys the life of her unborn child, it is evidence that either by education or circumstances she has been greatly wronged." M. Brinkerhoff.

There are huge issues to explore in this quote, but right now there is one thing that comes to my mind. When I was taking my "Ethics in the Classroom" course at SFU, the whole abortion / keeping the baby issue came up. And I noticed something: young pregnant teens are presented with the above false dichotomy: you can have an abortion or you can keep the baby and take care of it yourself. I rarely hear anyone anywhere in our society mention the third option: you can give the child up for adoption.

I think this is because in many ways this option is the most difficult. First, you have to carry the baby to term and deliver it. Then, after this, you must give that baby you carried for 9 months, your own flesh and blood, to someone who you do not know, and ask them to care for and raise your child. After this, you must go through the greiving process of losing that child, even though they are alive and well in the world.

But on the positive side, you gain much, as a young woman, from taking this route. First, if you are not in a condition to raise that child well, you have ensured that your child will be raised in a more stable environment than you might be able to provide. Second, you do not have to live with the knowledge that you have chosen to end a human life. Although you may not see that child, you know that they are alive and well and that you have given them that life.

I think this third option is healthier both physically and emotionally for said teen mom. But I have never seen or heard of it mentioned in any curriculum or program or video relating to teen pregnancy. Like abstinence, adoption is one of those things we think is too noble a choice to be "realistic" for teenagers. If only we had the courage to entrust our youth with hard but virtuous options.

Happy "Holidays"

I heard on the CBC this week that the governor general is going to put up a "Holiday" Tree rather than a "Christmas" Tree this year, so as not to offend anyone.

I have two questions: 1. Is she also going to light 8 "Holiday Candlesticks", or would that be mildly offensive to certain religious groups?

2. Why is it okay to believe anything you want to in Canada as long as you don't actually believe anything? As long as you don't make any absolute truth claims, you are okay. But say there is something called truth out there and everyone will jump down your throat for being a bigot.

Personally, I am going to have a Christmas tree, open Christmas presents, and sing Christmas carols. If my friends choose to celebrate other feasts and festivals this time of year I will not egg their houses or call them names or expect them to celebrate Christmas. But if they put up a tree, can they call it by its proper name? I've never heard of a Diwali tree or a Hanukkah tree or a Solstice tree. So can we call it what it is? Please?

It is so dry that . . .

the pictures of my friends' children that I keep on my refrigerator are curling

running a bath feels like walking into a rainforest

the moisture from your breath is stolen by the desperate air before it turns to steam

it has been below freezing for a month and there is only an inch of snow

you feel like a raisin when you wake up in the morning

your hands a feet look like raisins

Ah ha! Now I know why everyone in Saskatchewan lives so long! The dry winters preserve them like fruit or fish!

Like this is a surprise?

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Christmas Baking Made Complicated

I attempted to make truffles today. Last week I bought all the ingredients, and today I put together the first of three truffle - like creations I am planning on making for Christmas presents. So I chopped up the chocolate and boiled the cream and added the butter and cream -- no problem. I added the chocolate and melted it down and poured the concoction into a shallow dish to cool.

Five hours later, despite the fact that my 14 month old refused to sleep, I hauled it out of the fridge and proceeded to "Using a spoon, scoop 24 rounded teaspoonfuls of the cold chocolate mixture onto a sheet of wax paper. Coat your palms with cocoa and roll each mound between your palms to form a ball". Sounds simple enough, doesn't it?

Not with a fussing toddler in a backpack on your back, and a warm kitchen. No, what you end up with are very sticky hands, cocoa all over the kitchen and the big roll of wax paper unwinding all over the floor where you toddler has kicked it in anger because you won't let him down.

So, after all this, I finish about half the truffles and I decide to taste one. And you know what? They were DISGUSTING. I guess baker's chocolate was not the best choice for something that's only other ingredients are cream and butter.

Now I have an even worse quandry: do I give gross truffles out as gifts? Do I just give them to people I don't like? Do I throw them out and waste $6 worth of chocolate and 1c. of whipping cream? Do I send them to starving children in Africa?

No, my friends. When the world gives you terrible, bitter truffles . . . make FUDGE! I melted down the truffles and added lots of icing sugar. Now my kitchen is covered in fine white powder as well as find brown powder and numerous sheets of wax paper. I guess I should go and clean it up.

Words, words, words

It is really funny to hear my son learn language. Especially since I try to pronounce things clearly for him, so he can learn words. Sometimes I must be a bit too "clear" because he comes out with extra syllables and sounds in words. Eg -- today he has started saying "owuaps". In other words, oops. On the other side of the coin, I play chase with him and call out "gonna getcha"! He calls back "Gongeddya". Or "Cheese" which he pronounces perfectly, but only in a hissing whisper, because I always emphasize the "ch" sound. Another multi-syllabic silliness is "Eauras" -- ears. Perhaps my son in learning middle english, rather than the modern variety. Ah, well. Once we're through with "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" and "Goodnight Moon" we shall proceed to "Canterbury Tales" and "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight" in the original languages.

Similarities Between Myself and the Queen

I have come to the conclusion that Anglican minster's wives are sort of like the Queen. Your job is essentially to make an appearance. You show up, looking acceptable, chit chat, smile, and then leave. To actually attempt to get too involved would be like the Queen showing up in the kitchen, rolling up her bejeweled sleeves and washing dishes.

This is a new thought for me, since in the Baptist church minister's wives are more like the Prime Minister's cheif assistant. You must run the choir or play the piano, run the sunday school or kids' club, attend or comandeer a ladies' bible study of some sort, bring baking to everything and always have a pot of coffee on and a plate of cookies readily available. You are the right hand woman.

So imagine my surprise when I am asked to do, well, nothing. Except show up.

IF I have to read "The Belly Button Book" One More Time . . .

Sorry, but I can't come to my blog right now. I'm busy reading the Belly Button Book for the 100th time today. Let's all sing along to the happy hippo belly button song. All together now . . .

Baby and Cat

So, my cat is not the most social of creatures. I named her Beckett after the reclusive, oddball playwrite Samuel Beckett, and she has lived up to that name. She does, however, like my toddler.

This morning I was sitting on the floor in the kitchen reading a book to my toddler, when the cat decided to join us. She sat on the string to my toddler's pull-along turtle toy. Since I know she loves playing with string, I started swishing it around while I read to the baby, and the cat started batting at it and chasing it. Well, I got the baby's attention, and he was loving this game with the cat. The cat noticed that the baby was interested, and assumed he was interested in the string. So she grabbed the string in her mouth and pulled the string and entire plasic turtle (about half her size) around the corner. Then my toddler got up and followed her, determined to "give" the toy to the cat. The cat, of course, ran away.

I decided that, since the toddler had taken over the toy, I would tie some shoelaces together for the cat to play with. So I get the string ready, and of course now my toddler is interested in the string. I sit him on my lap to watch, and then get the cat chasing the string. The baby wants to get involved, so I give him the end of the string and try to show him how to walk the string around the house. I think maybe the cat will then follow the toddler, and they will both be amused. Nope. The baby decides to pick up the string in the middle and chase the cat around while waving the string at her.

Perhaps 14 months is a bit young to encourage too much cat - toddler interaction.

Bulk Food: Friend or Foe?

Alright, this goes along with the home grown vegetables. I am afraid of bulk food. I keep telling myself that the reason I don't buy bulk more is because I would have to take an extra trip to Nutters (the bulk food / health food store) to do so. But I know in my heart of hearts that this is not really the case! The fact is, that I am afraid of bulk food. After all, who knows who has put their hands into those bins? Who knows where that flour came from and wether someone licked it as they put it into that big orange flip-top lidded container. Did the marachino cherries come out of one of those big trucks that has a sign that says "NOT DRINKING WATER" on the back? How long do they keep the food before they throw it out? What sort of additives did those smiling ladies in the green aprons put in my brown rice before they put it on display?

There are just too many questions about bulk food. My imagination goes wild when I walk into a bulk food store. I can't help it. It just seems so much safer to buy a bright yellow bag full of flour than it does to scoop it out of a big bin. I like my bright yellow bag of flour. I don't care if it costs an extra .50 cents! It is strangely comforting for me to pour that big bag of flour into my tupperware container that I bought to encourage myself to buy bulk. Sigh. I guess this will change as my family increases and our income doesn't. But for now, I not so proudly support overpackaging and giant multi-national food conglomerates! Yay Robin Hood flour!

Stats at 30

So, I turned 3o ten days ago. I was thinking about this on my way home from the mall today as I walked in the biting cold prairie wind, and I decided to compile a list of my life statistics thus far:

Numbers of years alive: 30
Number of years living with parents: 18
Number of years living with husband: 12
Number of years in school: 20
Number of years gainfully employed: 5
Number of years as SAHM: 1

Elementary schools attended: 5
Highschools attended: 2
Universities attended: 4

Dead end fast food jobs worked over summers during university: 5
Schools taught at during time as highschool teacher: 4
Years as highschool teacher: 3
Subjects taught while a highschool teacher: 7
Students taught (aprox): 450

Number of marriages: 1
Divorces: 0
Children conceived: 1
Children born: 1

Countries lived in: 1
Cities lived in: 6
Houses lived in: 5
Appartments lived in: 5

Regrets: few
Accomplishments: some decent ones
Friends: many, some that I even keep in touch with still, many that I miss
Marriage: stormy beginning, but now good
Career: was amazing and exciting, but on hold for now
Parenthood: difficult and frustrating, but rewarding
Faith: up and down, but my commitment and faith never waver, just my discipline
Overall accessment: Not too bad. I'm pretty happy so far. I thought I would have accomplished more by now, but I have had lots of great friends, and some pretty interesting experiences, so that makes up for it. I'm just trying not to be a "peak too soon" kind of person.

Business and Boredom

I have never been so busy and so bored at the same time. This is the crazy thing about being a stay at home mom to a toddler: there is so much to do and it is all so mindless! I feel like I have two options. I can do all of the things that need doing around the house and allow my brain to die a slow death via starvation or I can not get everything done around the house and do something that is actually interesting. Of course this means ignoring my toddler, or wrestling to keep him off the computer desk while I type, or allowing him to chew on power cords while I get one more sentence of my novel read.

For a while, I had it perfectly balanced. I was keeping the house tidy and relatively clean and I was really quite happy about it. I felt like I had succeeded at the mommy thing. Yay Jill! Then I realized that now that I could do it properly I didn't want to any more. It was all so boring and repetative. Why spend all my time vacuuming and mopping when my husband is going to come home in a rush and forget to take his shoes off, and then my toddler is going to throw cottage cheese half way across the room? Why pick up the toys only to have them flung on the floor again the next morning? What is the point!

The problem is that now I am just being lazy. I sit around and reading and not getting anything done. It is terrible. My house is not as nice as it was. I don't have that satisfied tidy-house feeling, and I"m not doing anything useful or productive. Its not as if I'm writing or creating something. I have abandoned my lists and schedules. I am getting sluggish. But I am still bored, and annoyed at myself on top of that.

So, oh reader, what is the solution? How do I keep my house, my toddler, and my sanity all intact?