Ten years ago, after I was married and before I was pregnant with my first child, I sat in an office at the bank I worked at receiving my performance appraisal. These appraisals, as many know, are similar to the report cards of today. They are cookie cutter, fill in the blank appraisals, where the writer is given a list of politically correct words to choose from to describe the employee. So I sat and listened to three things I do really well, and three things I need to improve on. I answered as best I could how I was going to improve, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Oh summer, our time together was far too short again. This summer was especially sweet as my family and I got to know our hometown a little better with the help of Ottawa Tourism. As luck would have it our last tour was at Saunders Farm and we couldn’t have been happier to end our summer exploring there.
A little over two years ago I could have been defined as a body in motion. I never stopped moving. Literally. I was on my feet all the time, and my body responded accordingly by not gaining weight, by allowing me to eat anything I wanted and by feeling good. Fast forward a couple of years and things got a little softer, fluffier....okay, okay, fine, fatter. At first I blamed it on age. I had heard all too often that once that magic forty hit you, you could kiss your metabolism goodbye. So I resigned myself to the pudge. After all, it was only a few pounds. Okay, Okay, ten pounds.
When my family first started out on our summer of being tourists in our hometown, we did not expect the unexpected, and yet that is what we got at every turn. I’m not sure why most of us think our own city is not as exciting as far off destinations, but when you stop and look at your city with the eyes of a visitor, you begin to realize you’ve taken a lot for granted. Our last excursion took us to Calypso Waterpark and I have to tell you, I am living with a world of regret right now. Primarily that my family has not spent way more time there.
If you’re like most people, you are always planning your next getaway to some place far, far away from where you live. The unfortunate thing about this philosophy is we very often miss the amazing attractions in our own backyard. I know this because I have been a resident of Ottawa for 12 years now and while I’m one of the proudest Ottawans you’ll ever meet, I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve taken advantage of very little this city has to offer.
Last night, I collapsed into bed after a day of my head bobbing while in the car (passenger), on my Dad’s boat, sitting on the couch and working at my computer. Any time that I was not standing or moving, was a cue for my body to shut down. This has become an all too frequent occurrence. August, in particular, is a busy month for me and I not only look like the walking dead but I feel like it. I am completely and utterly exhausted with too much on my plate and not enough hours in the day to fit it all in.
Last Friday, continuing on our mission to be tourists in our own town, my family and I did something I am now referring to as the Heartstrings Itinerary. With Ottawa Tourism’s help, we decided to visit the Museum of Civilization, see Born to Be Wild at the IMAX theatre and finish our evening on Parliament Hill watching Mosaika. Why the Heartstring Itinerary? Keep reading.
The other day I was reading an article about the drought in the Horn of Africa. The news was sobering. This is the worst drought in 60 years; 10 million people are in need of food, there are overcrowded refugee camps and dying children. One mother relayed how two of her children died en-route to a camp. She saw at least 20 other children dead or unconscious along the side of the road. My heart crumpled as I empathized with this woman. Then I did something really stupid. I scrolled down to the comments.
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away in Eastern Ontario lived a beautiful, worldly, ever so gracious Queen who was terribly misunderstood. Her subjects thought she was mean and spiteful, as to never allow that most fun food, known as hot dogs, into the royal land. The Queen stood firm though, proclaiming that “Nitrates, and things I cannot pronounce need not touch thy offsprings lips” and banished them from her Queendom for eternity. Her ruling was met with pouts and an occasional underground hot dog when her subjects left the land without her.
A little over a year ago I had the pleasure of meeting Heather Greenwood Davis through Twitter and mutual friends. It felt like finding a long lost friend. Heather is smart, funny, sweet, part of my running gang, did I say smart? She is also leaving…..for a year…to travel the globe. What? But I just found Heather and now she’s leaving? Noooooooooo. It’s simply too much to cope with, so I’ve decided I’m going with her. Surprise Heather! I’ll see you in Winnipeg, our first stop.
Everybody got their skates on? Because we are on a slippery, slippery slope. Since the Vancouver riots last week I’ve had an increasingly uneasy feeling in my stomach as I’ve watched one angry mob be replaced with another.
Well, well, well, it would seem Canadians have egg on their face once again this morning after Vancouver erupted into riots and looting after last night's Stanley Cup loss. I know I'm embarrassed, but not as much as some mother's must be this morning.
Here are just a few lessons that need to be taught early in life. Maybe we can avoid this kind of stupidity the next time we lose a hockey game.
*Teach your children how to lose with dignity.
* Teach your children that other people's property is to be respected.
Some days I am like an ADHD speed junkie with the internet. Look over here, no there. What’s that? And once I get swept away, it’s hard to pull me back in. I’m glad I work for myself or there might some serious disciplinary action coming my way.
A little over two years ago, I met Erica Ehm in a coffee shop in Ottawa and pitched her an idea for a blog about a woman who stayed at home to raise her children for six years and then suddenly went back to work. I’m going to be honest here and tell you that I completely pulled that one out of my ass. I did not wake up that morning thinking I would start writing and I had no fully formed plan when I walked in to meet her that day.
For some time now, actually since about September, the EQAO drums have been beating for my oldest daughter. For those of you who don't know, EQAO stands for Education Quality and Accountability Office and is the Ontario Ministry of Education’s standardized testing to gauge if children are learning what they should be from the curriculum put forth. These tests are administered in Grades 3, 6, 9 and 10. It is truly a test of the system, from those who set the curriculum to those who teach it.
I find school lunches pretty easy. There I said it. Easy. Perhaps I’m missing something here because I hear it’s the bane of many a mother’s existence, but I have no problem with it. Maybe it’s because I have it down to a mathematical equation now; One drink + two fruits (or one fruit and one veggie) + a main meal + a snack = a healthy day at school. My kids know the drill so well that they instruct their grandmother what to give them when I’m away.
There’s been a lot of fussing this week about the couple in Toronto looking to raise their child genderless by not revealing its sex to anyone outside the immediate family. Ummm, ok?
