Blah

This is what we're getting for the foreseeable future. Break out the rubber boots and the slickers!

The back bone's connected to the... foot bone?

Solanne was sitting in the bathroom, her clothes off, shivering and hunched over as she waited to get into the bath when she made a startling discovery. Her back was itchy, so she reached around to her spine and felt something knobly.

"Wook Momma! I have ankles on my back!"

Green clean

When I moved out on my own, I had a few cleaning products that were stand-bys: Fantastic, Windex, Ajax, and Swiffer dusters.

It was Maïa's arrival into my life that made me conscious of the intense odours that came from these products (yes, even Swiffer smells!). We began to purge our home of these cleaning products, slowly. We kept the Fantastic and the others until we finished them up; we used them for the big spring cleaning jobs. For the rest, we found alternatives.

We tried, for a while, to use those supposedly "green" alternative cleansers. One claimed that it was used to clean the feathers of birds who had been victims of oil spills. The smell was just as intense as any other cleaner. We tried different products available in our local health food store, but they all left us a little disappointed.

My basic rule is this: if I have to call poison control because my child has ingested something, I will do my best not to use it in my home (some things I can't avoid, but I try to minimise their use).

So what do we use? There are two mainstays in our house: white vinegar and baking soda. I can get most of the jobs done with them. And every once in a while, I'll offer cleaning tips on how to use them.

This week's tip: cleaning a wet mattress or carpet or upholstery.

Most parents have been faced with this task numerous times: cleaning spit-up, pee, and other spills from various porous surfaces, like mattresses, couches, and carpets. I used to use a paper towel to mop up the mess, a stain-remover to catch the colour, and a deodoriser to make everything smell just a little less pungent.

Green approach: after picking up whatever chunks that may be present, liberally sprinkle baking soda on the spot. Let dry (it will become crusty). Vacuum it up. And voilà! You have a clean, stain-free and odour-free surface again.

Bonus: it's much cheaper, and it takes less effort and less time.

For the record

This is the article that I wrote for Briarpatch, for those of you who didn't find it in stores.

Naturally suspicious
Recent change in regulations shines a light on the toxins in our toiletries

Does the rise of the “naturals” industry represent a small step in the right direction, or merely a distraction from a much larger problem?

On January 3 of this year, Environmental Defence released a surprising and troubling report entitled Toxic Nation on Parliament Hill. The report detailed how four prominent MPs were carrying around a significant toxic burden—the build-up of chemicals that accumulate in our blood and tissues over a lifetime. About six months earlier, Environmental Defence had invited MPs Jack Layton, Tony Clement, Rona Ambrose, and John Godfrey to have their blood tested to find out what environmental pollutants were coursing through their bodies.

The toxic load carried by each of the MPs was startling. Tests found they all had higher-than-normal levels of pollutants in their bodies. All had higher-than-average levels of mercury in their blood. Ms. Ambrose, the then-Environment Minister, was found to have the highest arsenic levels of the group; Mr Godfrey, the Liberal environment critic, had the highest levels of organophosphate pesticides in his body.

These findings surprised both the test subjects and the general public. Dr. Rick Smith, Executive Director of Environmental Defence, notes that people who live healthy lifestyles, eating right and exercising, are nevertheless exposed, daily, to dangerous and harmful chemicals. A growing number of Canadians are taking the toxic threat seriously, but most lack the information to make informed decisions about what products they put in and on their bodies.

People are turning more and more to products that make them feel safe, particularly items that are free of the industrial chemicals found in conventional products. As a consequence, grocery and drug store shelves are increasingly stocked with products advertised as “natural”—though “natural,” in the hands of the cosmetic and agrifood industries, turns out to be an extremely malleable term. Unlike the term “organic,” which may only be stamped on items that have been certified by an accredited board, the term “natural” may be used on any product on the market: there are no governing bodies to regulate what is “natural” and what is not.

Because the demand for natural and organic products has grown so rapidly, “naturals” have become an industry in their own right. Once upon a time, only small mom-and-pop operations that conjured up images of bead curtains and the scent of patchouli sold “natural” products. But the former niche market has hit the mainstream. Now, soccer moms are buying homeopathic remedies for their kids. According to Nutrition Business Journal, the natural personal care industry in the U.S. grew by 8.7 percent in 2003 and 11.3 percent in 2004. (This growth is particularly noteworthy when compared to the feeble 0.1 percent growth rate experienced by the top ten U.S. supermarket chains during 2003-2004.) Big-name stores are now jumping on the bandwagon, scrambling to meet the demand. Loblaws has launched the PC Organics brand, which now boasts a large and successful line of products. The Sobeys brand has gone one better and acquired the Québec-based Rachelle Bery health store chain, which markets “natural” products to high-end customers.

But does this shift in the corporate winds presage a significant reduction in the toxins to which we're exposed? Not necessarily. Without government regulation, the cleansing of the personal care industry will remain merely cosmetic.

First of all, it's important to remember that industrial and agricultural pollution account for a significant portion of our toxic exposure—something individual purchasing decisions can’t defend us from. Dr. Joseph Mercola, author of Total Health Program, has created a top ten list of the most prevalent toxins in our air, water, and food supply. Seven of the ten are chemical compounds emitted by industrial polluters. Unless individual consumer choices are accompanied by concerted pressure to strengthen the regulations governing polluters, the toxins we carry in our bodies will continue to accumulate in greater and greater concentrations.

That said, the first place many people will exercise their newfound concern with toxic exposure is in their consumer choices—which remain an important lever in bringing about deeper transformations in our use of harmful chemicals. Consumers of “natural” products—be they personal care products or food items—are making choices based on the environment as well as their personal health. “Natural,” it is assumed, will deliver “healthy.”

But there is no guarantee that a product that is labelled “natural” will, in fact, be composed exclusively of non-toxic ingredients. Because there are no regulatory bodies to ensure reliable standards, the only remedy is to read the labels carefully—and learn to recognize the multisyllabic monikers by which toxic substances are known.

Currently, little testing has been done on the long-term dangers and toxicity of many of the substances found in our personal care products. What testing has been done can at least point us to a few substances that conscientious consumers may want to avoid.

Phthalates are a group of chemical compounds that increase elasticity, specifically in hair care products. They’re also used to extend the scent release of perfumes and to disperse fragrances. When a product lists “parfum” or “fragrance” as an ingredient, it may contain phthalates. Studies have linked fetal exposure to phthalates to developmental damage, both in human and animal testing, and damage to the reproductive organs of adult animals. The European Union classifies phthalates as reproductive toxins, and prohibits them from use in cosmetics.

Another group of chemicals ubiquitous in personal care products is the parabens group. Parabens are generally used as preservatives in personal care products. The most common parabens are methylparaben, ethylparaben, and propylparaben. Parabens are relatively cheap and widely used, especially in moisturizers, creams, and lotions. According to the Environmental Working Group, a U.S. non-profit organization of scientists, engineers, policy experts, and lawyers, parabens have been shown to disrupt endocrine (hormone) function, among other potential concerns. EWG indicates that there are significant data gaps in assessing the safety of parabens, with a dearth of basic toxicity studies.

Dr. Philippa Darbre, whose research has pointed to a link between parabens and breast cancer, acknowledges that there is not enough research to definitively condemn many of the substances found in personal care products. The link between parabens and cancer is still tenuous, given that Darbre’s findings are recent and have not been followed up. That’s why she has called for further research into the paraben-cancer link, in the hopes of finding out more. However, she has found it extremely difficult to secure funding for such research despite her 20 years of experience in the oncology field. It was only thanks to friends and colleagues who rallied and gained her access to machinery and breast tissue that Dr. Darbre’s research was able to proceed. It would seem that as far as the personal care industry is concerned, chemicals are innocent until proven guilty—and proving them guilty is increasingly difficult when the studies can’t find funding.

The reports of toxicity of such substances have been dismissed by the personal care industry as inconclusive. The Cosmetic, Toiletry, and Fragrance Association (CTFA) in the U.S. addressed the Darbre findings by stating that parabens “have been used in a wide variety of foods, drugs, and cosmetics and keep products safe. Parabens have a long history of use in these products,” and are thus assumed to be safe.

Health Canada’s response so far has been tentative at best. The Food and Drug Act contains a mere paragraph on personal care or cosmetic products, most of which deals with standards of sanitation in the preparation of the products. There are no laws governing testing for long-term safety. Instead, Health Canada’s website recommends patch testing. Basically, what they want is for the consumer to buy the product and try it. If anything bad happens, like a rash, vomiting, or dizziness, the consumer is advised to stop using it.

This approach does nothing, however, to determine the potential effects of long-term, low-level exposure to a toxin.

Some small progress has recently been made, however. As of November 18, 2006, Health Canada has decreed that all cosmetics must carry labels listing the ingredients, much like the ingredients lists found on food products. Just as many individuals check labels for monosodium glutamate in their foods because they know they have an intolerance, now they may check the labels of their favourite personal care products to avoid potentially toxic substances.

Now that the cosmetics industry must label each ingredient, it is much easier to find out what we’re putting on, and ultimately into, our bodies. What’s striking is that many potentially harmful ingredients can be found in a host of so-called natural care products—the very products health-conscious individuals buy to protect themselves.

For example, the “naturals” cosmetic company Kiss My Face advertises itself as “obsessively natural” and sells its products in natural food stores. It offers a line of organics, some of which are clearly advertised as paraben-free. This very same company, however, has a children’s line of personal care products, Kiss Kids, that contains parabens; the labels indicate as much. Another company, Alba, whose tag line is “beautifully, healthfully, individually you,” can be found in natural health food stores and contains some organic ingredients. Yet Alba products contain both parabens and “botanical fragrance,” whose composition is not clearly spelled out. The Healing Garden’s products, marketed as organic, contain both parabens and “fragrance (parfum)”.

Of course, if used sparingly and individually, these chemicals may very well be harmless in the short term. The real risk arises when these products are used in combination and over long periods of time. It is estimated that more than 25 percent of women in North America use at least 15 personal care products daily, and each of these products is designed to remain on the skin for long periods of time. Furthermore, we use personal care products over the course of our lifetime, from the time we are infants. The cumulative effect of long-term exposure to these chemical compounds and the interaction between them is still unknown.

In the face of all this, the “naturals” industry remains divided. Some companies have made a commitment to make only paraben-free products. Others create some lines that are free of possible carcinogens and other toxins but continue to produce lines that contain potentially harmful substances. And yet other companies dismiss the fears and continue to advertise themselves as “natural” alternatives, all the while putting out products containing parabens and possibly phthalates under the guise of “fragrance.”

And where do the health food stores fit into all this? They have, after all, staked their claim on the so-called healthy and natural products available on the market. Many consumers, concerned about their health and their toxic burden, turn to them in their search for healthy options. However, the problem remains that health food stores, like any others, stock their shelves with whatever their customers want to buy. If the “natural” tag or the flowery label sells the product, many stores will carry it.

The manager of one small chain in Ottawa admits that her stock is first and foremost customer-driven; if enough customers ask for a product, she’ll stock it. She indicates, however, that she looks into the ingredients to make sure that the product is “clean” and appropriate for her store. Other owners and managers of health food stores act similarly, but nuance their approach. Michael Kalmanovitch, founder and owner of Earth's General Store in Edmonton, offers healthier alternatives to conventional products found in pharmacies. He also believes his role is to educate the consumer. He quickly points out, however, that in the world of personal care products, as in anything else, the rule is “buyer beware.”

What this means is that for now and as always, consumers of these personal care products must be wary and wise, as they are left ultimately responsible for their own health. Health Canada will protect only from immediate harm since the long-term effects, until proven conclusively, will remain under its radar. And proving that something is harmful becomes increasingly difficult with university laboratories relying heavily on corporate funding for research. As for the “naturals” industry, the companies by and large obey the bottom line: if a product seems safe and customers continue to buy, the companies will continue to produce. No certification boards exist to affix a stamp of approval on “natural” products.

So what is a health-conscious individual to do? Thanks to Health Canada’s new labelling rules, consumers can read the labels carefully to make sure their products are free of parabens and “fragrance,” and can conduct their own research using Environmental Working Group’s “Skin Deep” online database of cosmetic safety, www.cosmeticsdatabase.com. Armed with knowledge and keen eyesight, consumers now at least have the opportunity to read the labels and vote with their wallets.

Without the intervention of some regulatory body, that’s about as good as it gets.


Cristina is a mother and freelance editor/proofreader who works from her home in Montreal. She is an avid shampoo bottle reader.

Something happened while I was blinking

Over the course of the summer, I have slowly come to terms with the fact that, indeed, this is it: we will not have any more little babies in our house. And I've become okay with the idea. I'm happy with our family, even though I will never again hold my own newborn child in my arms and smell her little head as I nuzzle her fuzzy head with my chin. But that's okay. Because I have my little girl, Maïa, and my baby, Solanne, to keep me more than content. Happy. Delighted, in fact.

And today, as I walked home with Solanne, who was running ahead of me, I saw the little girl she has become. She doesn't toddle when she runs: she runs. And she's suddenly longer and leaner, and she's lost her toddler belly. Her little arm rolls have been replaced by lithe, muscular lines. And she has all these ideas, and she can express them surprisingly well. So she's not my baby anymore. She's my little girl. And I ask myself, when did that happen?

"out-of-shape and out-of-touch"

According to the latest entertainment story coming out of the Associated Press, that's what I am.

In a story reporting on Britney Spears' appearance at the MTV Video Music Awards, dated today, the woebegone starlet was criticised for her performance—and her appearance— on the awards show. She was described as both "out-of-shape" and "out-of-touch."

Now I'm no fan of Britney's, but I take issue with the description: I wish I were so "out-of-shape." Seriously. Take a look at those abs and those thighs. And she's had two kids. I guess I'm out-of-touch, too, to think that a star should be allowed to have a "normal" body.

The very media machine that used to worship her body has turned against her. Big surprise. And that's why, by the way, I won't be too keen on having my daughters get starry-eyed over those supposed representations of "girl power." It's lethal too all, no matter which side of the lens we find ourselves.

My new favourite word

Friggles.

That's my new favourite word, coined by Maïa. It refers to those lovely lacey bits at the hem of dresses and other fancy clothes. Friggles. And no matter how many times I correct her, "Mai, it's frills," she keeps coming up with her friggles. I chuckle every time I think about it.

Carrot pants

This is great way to get your kids to eat veggies: just grow them in various interesting shapes, like this carrot that came from Great Gramma's garden. If only we could get her to grow her yellow beans to look like shirts...

Milestone: First day of school

The first day of school began without much trepidation, at least on Maïa's part. I, on the other hand, was still in shock at the fact that my little Maïa is off to school... Anyhow, that's my issue, not hers. She's been looking forward to going to school all summer.

Now, I must qualify "first day of school," because really it was only an hour or so. Tomorrow is a fuller day (90 minutes in the morning, 90 minutes in the afternoon, with a 3-hour break in between... what am I supposed to do with her for three hours??). Then Thursday is the normal schedule. We'll put her on the bus next week.

Here she is waving good-bye to Daddy and Solanne, who are up in the balcony.



During our walk to school, Maïa and I sang silly songs, such as "Je fais pipi sur le gazon/ Pour embêter les coccinelles,/ Je fais pipi sur le gazon/ Pour embêter les papillons./ Pipi, gazon, papillons et coccinelles./ Pipi, gazon, coccinelles et papillons."

When we got to her school, we went to the gym to mix with other nervous parents and oblivious children and to meet the new teachers. Maïa's new teacher, Pascale, gave Maïa a name tag and announced that she is part of La classe des papillons (the Butterfly class).



This shot was taken in front of the school, after we left. As you can see, Maïa is very enthusiastic about going to school.

How I spent my summer vacation: A photo essay

Our second annual pilgrimage to Eastern Ontario took place during the middle three weeks in August. Last year and this, Nana & Grampa have taken their holidays in August and taken to their sailboat. While they are gone, they need someone to look after the pool and to feed the cats. We have happily sacrificed ourselves, packing up the kids and a trunkful of stuff, and headed out to the countryside to spend our own summer holidays. It's a nice break from the city, and access to 12 acres of land as well as a pool (not to mention air conditioning, a screened-in porch, and cats to babysit the kids). Once again, we had a great time this year.

Summer vacation should, in my opinion, be spent wearing a bathing suit. My girls were all over that idea.



Waiting to get into the pool area.



Daddy diving.



But we did a lot more than just play in the water. For instance, Maïa worked on her math skills, as well as her digital clock numbers.



Solanne figured out how to make an S: this is her first recognisable "Sol."



Maïa likely caught whatever bug that got Solanne (see camping story below). This is her, feverish, sleeping.



Maïa recovered rather quickly–just in time for Nana & Grampa's brief return. One of the special things that Nana does is make open faced sandwiches... with faces. Here's Maïa decorating...


And here are her creations: Derek (on the left, with a beard) and me (right, with pickle cheeks).



Maïa



And Solanne (made by Solanne).



During our stay, we were graced with a visit from Derek's uncle & aunt and two cousins. Mike and Rosemary live in Nova Scotia and visit family in Ontario every summer. They stayed with us for two days on their way back home. Paul and Chris, the cousins, had a lot of fun playing with our girls. Here's Chris enjoying ice cream with his little cousins.



While the parents were away, we planned a party, complete with bbq and swimming! We had some friends from Ottawa over for the day. These are Maïa oldest buddies in the world, along with their sibblings; this pic was taken at the end of the day, just before everyone left, right after the Pyjama Parade.



The cats and kittens that live on Nana & Grampa's property are a great source of entertainment for the kids. There have been a number of litters this year; the first two or three being in April. The latest batch, however, were born during our stay (one day Crimson was huge & pregnant, the next she was as skinny as ever and unbelievably friendly). Here is Maïa holding one of four of the youngest litter. This little black cat was about a week old in this photo.






This kitten is one of the early litters; his name is Flower (he was named before we realised he was a boy). Flower is a semi-wild kitten; he likes being around people, but doesn't particularly like being touched by them. He did, however, like running after Solanne. I think he understood that she's a "kitten" too.



This little guy is Ezra; he's the only remaining kitten of a mid-summer litter. He is easily the cutest kitten born there in the past few years. He's very friendly and unbelievably fluffy. I would almost take him home. I think he's Maïa's cat; he followed her almost everywhere when his mother brought him out of hiding.



This is Maïa demonstrating how a mommy cat takes care of her kittens. The kids played a lot at pretending to be cats (when they weren't actually playing with the cats).


And all too soon, it was time to leave. On our way home, Solanne was not terribly impressed with having to be in the car for an hour and a half, especially when squished. But she was a good enough sport.


And Maïa fell asleep.

Milestone: Solo swinging

Maïa has discovered the joys of swinging on her own. Within a few days of staying at Nana & Grampa's, where there is a swing set complete with a slide and monkey bars, she figured out how to pump her legs. Soon, she knew how to start swinging from being completely still. Now, she can go almost as high as she does when we give her a big push. It's great.

Now, if only Solanne could just get on the swing without any help...

Camping: A photo essay

We took the kids canoe camping to Lac La Peche in Gatineau Park. We left on Monday morning; the plan was to stay two nights.

This is us, with our gear in the canoe.



Me, showing off my paddling prowess.



Lac La Peche



Maïa decided to take it easy on the way in. She's awake here and snacking on a bagel.



When we found our campsite (about an hour and a quarter canoe ride from the beach where we parked our car), we were excited to see the water lilies, and lily pads, too!



Derek set up the tent while I entertained the troups (and took pictures).



Derek showing off his handy work.



The kids liked being in the tent.



...a lot.


We then went for a swim (not pictured). The water was warm and clean. The kids really like floating around in their life jackets.

Soon, it was time for supper. Derek wanted to cook the veggie dogs on our little stove; I said we should build a fire. It took a while.



It made a lot of smoke.



Derek was impatient and didn't think this would work. I threatened him with my fire stick.



While we prepared our real supper, the kids prepared a meal of wood chips and dirt.



Yum!



When we were all done our supper (we very briefly toasted the dogs), the fire finally took. We sat around it and told stories.

I recited Jillian Jiggs; Derek recited Where the Wild Things Are. Maïa told many stories involving princesses. Solanne told a story about fireworks named Solanne (they were pink) who turned into a little girl who went to daycare.


DAY TWO

The kids woke up at a record-breaking 8 am (latest ever on the books). After breakfast, we did a little exploring.






Then we went on a canoe trip with a picnic lunch.



Solanne fell asleep in the canoe.



This is where we parked our canoe and had lunch.






Solanne fell asleep, again, on the way back. We left her in the canoe to let her sleep. She seemed really tired.



I knew something was up. And sure enough, when she woke up, she was burning up. We packed up camp in a hurry; Solanne fell asleep once more, this time sitting up at the picnic table. We put everything in our canoe and paddled back to the car and then drove home.

Solanne is doing alright; we're keeping her temperature in check with meds. Despite the emergency return "home" (we're staying at Nana & Grampa's), we had a really nice trip.

Before I became a mom, I would never have imagined that I would utter such phrases as...

"Don't eat things you find in your armpit."

That roughly shaped circle we call life

Our entire lives, we are surrounded by beginnings and endings. Firsts and lasts. We organise our lives around a calendar that counts out 365 days, starting in January and ambling through the months until the end of December; we begin our work weeks, groggy-eyed and tired on Monday and count down the days—and sometimes hours and minutes—until the end of the week; we sentimentally mark down our children's first words, the day they took their first steps, the first time they rode a bike; we ache as we recall, vaguely, the last time they nursed or fell asleep in our arms.

But the big beginning and ending of our own lives, we never get to experience first hand, or at least recall and know. The beginning, our births, are recalled and told to us by our mothers, if we are lucky enough. Our end, however, is a reality that we, here in this space and time, like to forget about. We don't discuss it. We don't discuss death in general. And the less we talk about it, the more it seems to scare us.

My children have grown up with death around them. Not in the scary, haunted house and ghost story kind of way, but in the truth and reality of it. They know their Grampa Roberto only through photos and anecdotes, and they know he's dead. They also know their Uncle Jeff, who lived far away and whom they will never meet, not because of distance in space, but because of distance in death. These are very real people to Maïa and Solanne because they have another grampa and other uncles, and these people are beloved and close; Grampa Roberto and Uncle Jeff aren't far off concepts like ancestors whom no one living today has ever met. These are people who are connected through love and memories, albeit borrowed from me.

And so this spring, when we went out looking for the little semi-wild kittens at Nana & Grampa's and found one dying, we told our kids that this little one was going to die. But that its two sibblings were okay. They were suitably sad, we talked about it, and they moved on. Solanne still recalls that little kitten. She talks about how it was too sick to live and how it just died. I'm glad that we didn't lie to them or try to hide it. And I don't think that I've taken away their innocence.

I also don't think that they dismiss life because they know about death. In fact, I think they have a healthier respect and love for living things precisely because they know about death. They try their very best not to step on insects on purpose because death is not something they want to inflict on them; other kids don't quite get it, so squishing a bug is fine, funny even.

I recently saw an interview with Rachel Weisz; she was talking about her newest movie, in which she plays a dying woman. Her interviewer, George Stroumboulopoulos, asked her about death and commented on how we don't really talk about it. The conversation veered to talking to kids about death; would Rachel consider talking frankly to her children about it? No, she said, because children in our culture generally don't know about death, and they might be considered odd if the talked about it a lot.

I find this an interesting point of view, respectable, I guess, but I think that Ms Weisz is missing the point, missing the point that most people miss: kids can handle a whole lot more of the real world than we think. And by "real world" I mean the stuff that touches us profoundly, that makes us human. Stuff like birth and death, heart break and celebration, anger at injustice. Why do we shield our children from these truths?

I don't mean that children can handle violence, especially gratuitous violence; in fact, violence on television and in video games make light of death. It's not real, so children (and so many adults) don't know how to handle death in their lives. I don't mean that children should be made to witness the horrors of war or famine; one day they will be ready for that, and I dare hope that they will be equipped to feel it keenly and to work for justice. For now, they're still processing what it means that a kitten is too small and weak to make it in this tough world. I will not intentionally expose my children to sorrow, but I will not hide it from them when it is linked in a tangible way to their own existence. I truly hope and deeply believe that this does not, and will not, make them odd. It makes them more fully human.

My front yard

Our first summer here was spent largely touring the city when we weren't doing home renos. Last summer, we attempted to play in the backyard with the kids but found it lacking in toys, other children, and all around fun, so we opted to go to the park—a lot. This summer, we have discovered our front yard and the sidewalk just beyond it.

While we normally wouldn't have access to the back or front yards because we live on the second floor of a triplex (normally, their use is reserved for first-floor folks), our downstairs neighbours are very generous and have always welcomed our presence, especially our children's presence, in the yards. So we bring out whatever outdoor activities Mai and Sol have decided they want: balls, bubbles, sidewalk chalk, bikes, scooters... This involves much less energy than going to the park every evening. And we have experienced a pleasant surprise: other children come by to play.

Tsione is exuberant and chatty and Nadine is bright and beautiful; both are eight years old. They were the first to drop by and get acquainted with our girls. Nadine's older sister, Justine (who is 11) sometimes comes by when she hasn't anything else to do. Little Daniella, a wiry seven-year-old, shows up most days, too. Jane, a friend of Maïa's from daycare who lives across the street drags her kind parents to our place to join in the fun. Even Paullene, who is also from Maïa's daycare and lived across the street until about a month ago, has been known to drop by, with her poor dad, John, who is exasperated and is at a loss for what to do with such an energetic 5-year-old until his wife comes home at 10 pm from her long shift at the restaurant; John drives the few kilometers from their new home for informal playdates.

And the kids use our chalk and toys, and they play with our girls. Tsione likes to play Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Down Your Hair. Nadine often brings by her long-suffering hamster and has him "dance" for Solanne, mostly because Sol finds it hysterically funny. They all take turns on the scooters, as well as on the various bikes, skateboards, rollerblades, and other such toys the other kids bring along.

Our place is the natural gathering since our kids have to stay close to us, and also because ours is the only patch of grass on the block that isn't fenced in and doesn't mind a little beating up. And our reward for sharing our toys and space with these kids? We have the coolest front walk on the whole street.

Ta-da

I'm published.

Family reunion

Every year, give or take a few summers, my mom's siblings and their kids (and their kids) get together for a little reunion. This may not sound like much, but since my mom is one of seven kids, and each of them has two or three kids of their own, and most of us "kids" are parents now... well, it gets pretty busy. And we've never had a complete set. Whoever is in Ottawa or nearby tries to make it. But there are others who are in BC or Alberta or the states or Toronto (that far off place!), so they save their pennies for weddings (which is where we all get to meet in one spot, generally).

Anyhow, my mom used to host these events in her back yard (which, at the time, was my back yard, too). Since my mom sold the house, my cousin Scott and his gracious wife, Darlene, have taken up the duties (they are saints: they have six children, including 20-month old twins).

So this weekend, we headed out to Farhaven... I mean Barrhaven, to the big house with the big yard and the big pool. While the weather wasn't fantastic (about 20C and cloudy and rainy), we were lucky enough that there were only a few short-lived showers. Few of us got wet—except for those brave few who went into the pool. The brave few included a bunch of kids and me, the only "adult."

Here are two pics that my cousin Debralee snapped with her snazy new camera. I would post more, but I didn't bring my camera (which uses film, so I wouldn't have the pics ready for another month or so anyway).

Derek, me, my mom, Solanne, and Maïa



My gorgeous kids

Philosopher child

A scene of father getting daughter ready for bed:

Derek: Maïa, hurry up.

Maïa: (dawdling)

Derek: Come on Maïa. Run like the wind!

Maïa: But what if the wind is slow...

Soon, all too soon, we won't be able to argue with her.

Tales of a former only-child struggling to raise siblings

For the past couple of weeks, I have had to face, in an immediate and real way, an issue that has been under the surface ever since Derek and I decided to have a second child: no two people, even if they are siblings, are the same.

This statement seems self-evident, but most of us (each of us?) make this assumption on a daily basis, especially when it comes to children. We think that because one child, usually the older one, behaves a certain way or is interested in certain things, the other child(ren) must also behave in such a manner.

When Maïa was about 9 months old and as happy as a little baby can be, Derek and I decided it was time to start "trying." When I asked Derek if he wanted a boy the second time around, he answered that he wanted another girl. He so enjoyed Maïa that he wanted another one like her. Of course, we knew that this child would be different, but we assumed she'd be more like her big sister if she were a she.

When I became pregnant, I noticed immediately that things with this child were different. In fact, my pregnancy was so different, I thought at first that I was going to have a boy. This baby moved more, responded to my voice more; she was just different.

And when she came out, we noticed that, indeed, her behaviour was different. She was a bit bigger than her sister had been, but not by much; she was jaundiced like Maïa had been; she was bald. And yet. And yet, she acted so very differently. She was awake and alert most of the time. She ate like a horse. She got big, fast. She was... just different.

And there are any number of ways I can describe how different they are, but if you know them at all, you will have noticed them.

So it is with great surprise that I receive comments from one of Solanne's daycare educators: "She's not like Maïa. Maïa never used to do that. Maïa was so well behaved." As if Solanne has to be Maïa. Or as if because she's different from Maïa she's somehow lesser. I prefer to focus on her strengths, which, luckily, her other educator does in spades; I think she's quite taken with Sol.

Is this a fore-taste of what is to come? Will everyone compare Solanne to Maïa, if only because Maïa came first? Will her teachers remark that Solanne is not achieving in the same areas as her sister? Will they expect her to be the same? Will they chastise her for being her own person? (Meanwhile, Maïa will escape this fate since she doesn't have to worry about being her own person: she'll have no one to be compared to.)

While I don't want to type-cast either of them (this one is the smart one; that one's the pretty one...), I don't want them to think that they have to be the same people because they happen to share the same parents. And I don't want them to feel that they are deficient in any way because their strengths lie elsewhere.

So, I sigh, take a deep breath and realise that it really is challenging to raise siblings when you were an only child (more or less).