We've taken on a lot, and somehow managed to stay in tact. Living life now as a family of 4!

We have spent the week/weekend being ill, and various snapshots of a very slowed-down life have been flitting through my brain as they happen. I want to take note of the weight of an 8-almost-9 year old head on my shoulder. I want to remember the 6 year old heart beating under my hand. I want to freeze-frame the three of us napping in a tangled L on the couch.   As a family, we are ill pretty rarely, so the sense of familiarity wasn't from a repeat-performance of buckets and ginger-ale per se. It was a throw-back to life under covid lockdowns with an infant and toddler; just the three of us and an extremely modest list of chores and activities to keep us occupied.  On Friday we spent the day on the couch, mostly. I left a few times to get needed supplies or complete a simple task, but it wasn't long till I was called back with a 'mom!' for a snuggle.   I often feel like there are too many things to do in a day; throw in a load of laundry at 5:30am before my 6am ...

*disclaimer: I don't blame anyone in this post for how things have gone with my reproductive health. Our systems are to blame, but I believe they are getting better* I have wanted a hysterectomy since I was a teenager. My periods were so painful - fevers, throwing up, crippling pain for days - that I could not fathom why anyone should have to go through this monthly torture.  The only thing that made me hold on was my mom's assurances that the cramps would become less after I had a baby - that's what happened for her and she was sure that's what would happen for me too. Since I always knew I wanted to be a mom, I thought, well, this is just what it is. Neither mom or I knew about endometriosis, or that periods should not be so painful; some people just got the painful 'luck of the draw' with periods. I figured out coping mechanisms. In high school I stayed home a lot. I sometimes had to get my aunt to pick me up and take me home from school. I took a lot of advi...

 * This is a slightly edited version of the original post, which didn't have complete math in the stats section. In my original research, I changed the term 'visible minority' to 'BIPOC' because I wanted to use the most current language, but without realizing that Stats Canada collects separate stats for people who identify as Indigenous. The stats portion now reflects these new numbers, but the overall message is the same.'            One of the books I ordered after George Floyd was killed is called ‘Anti-Racist Baby’, by Ibram X. Kendi. It is a list of actions parents can take to teach their kids to be anti-racist. The third point in the book is ‘Point at policies as the problem, not people’. So, here we go. Let’s point at a proposed policy.        It’s easy to get lost in all the problematic aspects of Bill 64, especially as a teacher. It becomes a ‘can’t see the forest for the trees’ situation. We need to step back and look a...

 Today was my last day of parental leave, ever. :(  What an amazing incredible time. What a gift it is to have this time. Ever ever grateful to live in a country that makes it possible.  This year (plus) off was very very different than my year with Rudi. Of course it was. I was different. I wasn't so broken to begin with. I had a toddler around most of the time. A second baby is always a different ballgame. There is also a sweetness to what you know will be your last time to care for and bond with a tiny needy ball of human. Lindsay was not an easy baby like Rudi was. She didn't sleep. The first few months of her life are a bit of a blur because I was getting max 4h of sleep in several chunks per night. (I'm up to 6h a night now, but that's my fault, not hers ;)) And then when we emerged from the 4th trimester fog, the world shut down! And irony of ironies: I was mentally healthy enough to want to socialize with other people, which I didn't really want to do when R...

When I wrote this post a week ago, it was already longer than intended and now that I've had more time to think about it, it's going to get even longer. So this is a heads up. It's a long one :)  Another disclaimer: I tried adding photos. A few worked, most didn't. But if I don't just publish this now, I fear I never will ;) ***   Well. This might be my longest break in writing yet. From May to January. Yikers. Anyway, here we are. As one does, I've been reflecting on the year. I meant to write this before the clock struck 12 on Dec 31st, but obviously didn't manage it in favor of naps and playing, and now, only a few days later it seems a bit disingenuous to do a year review. Isn't that strange? I'm doing it anyway. Everyone can agree, 2020 is one for the history books. I really can't imagine how we will talk about this year with our kids - they were so tiny that I can't see it having any lasting impression on them, although Rudi did ask tod...

I still feed Lindsay in the night and that's when I (unfortunately for my sleep patterns) do some of my best thinking. Yesterday in my scrolling I encountered a post someone shared that was written by a police officer frustrated that this cop gave all cops a bad name. He said he would now be called 'racist' just because of his uniform, even though he agrees wholeheartedly that someone who'd kneel on a neck and kill a person should not be in uniform. He sounded aggrieved that he'd be lumped in with the bad apple, so to speak. That struck a chord with me and at 3:30am I was able to articulate it. I'm a white teacher in a prairie city. Over the course of my career I've taught more brown and black kids than white kids. In fact, for the first 6 years of my teaching, I was the ONLY white person in the room most of the time. I've been called racist more times than I can count. Usually when I ask someone to change seats, or stop talking, or some other classroom ...