On Exercise and Other Fads

Did you know that the number one way to prevent depression is exercise?  I have never been accused of being a couch-potato; I can’t even find the couch, it is camouflaged with books, pillows, DVD’s, discarded clothing, soccer cleats, popcorn, empty juice boxes, stuffed animals, ball gloves and laundry waiting to be folded.  And the mere fact that I have children, who I have been lifting, hugging, tickling, chasing, coaching, playing and wrestling with for 14 years – beat that exercise program!

But, lately I have been tuning into my health and wellbeing more than ever before – you would too, if you woke up one morning and found that the number of kids calling you Mom had doubled almost overnight. Wellbeing is a somewhat new-age word, describing what our parents probably simply referred to as happiness. Have you ever wondered what the opposite of wellbeing is?

Interestingly, the opposite of both ‘healthy’ and ‘well’ is unwell: ill, poorly, sick, ailing, while the opposite of happiness is unhappiness: sorrow, misery and gloom.  Unwell and its synonyms have such a feeling of permanency, while unhappiness and its synonyms feel like temporary, changeable emotional states.  The valley between well and unwell looms large, while the shift between happiness and unhappiness feels like the swing of a pendulum. 

Many moments in my daily living illustrate the unseen teeter-totter between well and unwell.  For example, this morning Faven couldn’t find one of her library books that she needed to return to school.  I gave her some guidance on where to find it, like the thoughtfully wall-mounted file labeled “library books”, or the (again) labeled cloth bag, or her bedroom, or the living room, or…… the dog’s bed!  I told her it was her responsibility to take care of her books, and that if she didn’t have it on library day, it was a problem that she was going to have to face. 

She bellowed at me, with untethered fury, “It’s not my problem!”

 “Oh”, I curiously asked, “whose problem is it?”

“It’s your fault!” she scathingly accused, with tears of anger running down her cheeks.

At that moment, I should have stopped to breathe (and empathize)…. but, I didn’t.  I ranted, I raved, I (gulp) raised my voice, and then I experienced a searing pain down my right shoulder blade and straight into my hip.  I dropped to the floor, and felt nauseous and dazed.

Now THAT, is what it feels like to experience a moment of ailing-being. Hours later, I still have the pain in my back, and can’t fully bend over; but it is the fleeting thought that I have failed as a mother that has the power to sustain the feeling that I am ailing – to press the teeter-totter to the ground, indefinitely. To put the teeter-totter back in balance requires intention to overcome a heavy weight, while allowing the pendulum to swing back towards happiness asks that you only let go.

I concluded long ago, that exercising your muscles can only take you so far.  The muscles may hold you up, but it is the brain that has to signal you to move forward. I have been increasing the amount I am exercising weekly, yet it was my kids who made me ‘hit the wall’, it was my own inner thoughts and feelings that ‘brought me to my knees’.  Maybe health and wellbeing can only take you so far.  I think that this afternoon, while the kids are at school, I am going to drink a bottle of wine, eat all the kids Easter chocolate and watch an X-rated movie.  I’ll let you know how that goes.

Happy Earth Day!

Yesterday was Earth Day, and as Yohannes succinctly wrote on his Earth Day message at school, “We celebrate Earth Day to remind us to take care”.

Yesterday at noon, in our backyard, it was 21 degrees Celsius; the girls and I had a picnic lunch, and marveled at the birds frolicking in our pond.  By 5:00 pm, kids soccer had been cancelled as there was pelting rain, winds that would move lawn furniture, and the temperature had dropped below 8 degrees.  This is Calgary in the springtime - summer, fall and winter!  Through the night the winds howled, and the rain, by moments, turned to snow.  The morning did bring sunshine, and the illusion (to the innocent) of a warm day.  The thermometer was registering 2 degrees, and the wind had died down to 30 km/hr gusting to 40.  The Weather Network reported that it would feel like minus 3 degrees.  The kids wanted to ride bikes to school, I didn’t.

But alas, my kids had just experienced Earth Day at school.  School is SO much more powerful than the mere opinion of a mother.  They told me about the environment, I told them about frost-bite; they told me about fossil fuels; I told them about growing up on the prairies; they told me about conservation; I told them our body uses SO MUCH more energy when it is cold outside; they told me that we were riding; I told them about mitts, ear covers, and warm coats; they told me not to worry.  I briefly imagined letting them ride to school in their sweaters, without the accoutrements of winter, but I couldn’t.

I donned my gear: ear cover, neck warmer (pulled up over my nose), ski mitts, my winter coat, and helmet. Laurèn came into the garage and took one look at me and started to laugh. 
“What is so funny?” I asked.
“You look like one of the Ethiopian street people,” she said.
(I knew she meant the women who clean the streets, and to limit the ill effects of pollution, they wear bandanas over their mouth and nose, and scarves covering their heads.)
“Faven, Yohannes, come and look at Mom” she said.
Now, I had an audience for my unplanned comedic moment.  “You’ll see,” I said knowingly, nodding to myself.

I went to help them with their gear.  It was an uphill battle all the way, and by this time, we were running late so my stress level tripled.  Yohannes still had his shorts on.  I implored him to go outside and check the weather and then think about wearing pants.  His response, “Don’t worry Mom, I’m hot-blooded”.  (To avoid my own hot-blooded moment, I told myself to just breathe.  What is the worst thing that could happen IF Yohannes wears shorts, I asked myself.  He will simply get cold.)

After another eternity lecturing on the benefits of winter gloves over those one-size-fits-all stretch gloves, I finally gave up – and actually found myself hoping that they would get cold on the ride to school and realize how their Mom might look funny, but is actually quite smart.  Hmmmmm……. what was this really about anyway?

With nine minutes until the bell would ring, we were ready to leave for our twelve minute ride, and our neighbor, who has kids at the same school asked me if I wanted her to take the kids to school, as she had to drive back and drop off coats for her kids because she didn’t realize how cold it was out. Wow, that would be great, I thought.  But, of course, I knew better than to answer for the kids, they were determined.  I asked them………No, they wanted to ride bikes.  My neighbor, who originates from Lebanon, shivered in the cold wind, and looked at me with something that I recognized as sympathy.  Off she went in her warm van, leaving me with my eager environmentalists calling, “Come on Mom”.

We rode directly into the wind, and I felt it like a naked baby emerging from the warm tub for the first time; I was worried about the kids.  Usually I thoughtfully compensated for their questionable choices, and carried the extra clothes and things that they might need; but this time I didn’t take even one extra mitten.  I wanted them to fully experience the natural outcome of their decision – and with the exception of Yohannes, they did!  Faven’s mood soured the closer we got to school, so much so that by the time we arrived (15 minutes late), she was not even speaking to me.  With Laurèn it was so much more painful, she not only got very cold, she became emotionally unglued with each passing pedal stroke.  Faven forged ahead, that upset Laurèn; Yohannes cut her off, that brought on tears of frustration; and my insistence that we keep on moving left her paralyzed with less than 100 metres to go.  I sent the other kids on, and Laurèn collapsed into my open arms, sobbing and feeling things that I could not see and she could not articulate.  I managed to get her over to the bike racks, where the other two were waiting for us.  Everyone got to school, cold and late, and I don’t yet know if they learned anything.  But for me, it reiterates that learning can be hard and even painful; our job is not to protect our kids from the experience, but to find a way to support them through it with patience and compassion.

Happy Earth Day, and remember to… take care. 

Whether or not

For those of you who are worried about global warming, I must sincerely apologize.  You see, the frequency of ‘melt-downs’ in our family is so high, that we alone have raised the temperature of the Earth’s near surface air by 1.83 degrees Celsius, JUST in the past six months!  Something of a marvel given that projections over the entire 21^st Century are for an increase of 1-6 degrees Celsius.  We are, as you know, over-achievers; however, this accomplishment leaves us feeling somewhat aghast. 

Now gas production, I must pass on some information about that hot topic. According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, greenhouse gas emissions are on the rise, which is in turn causing the increase to the Earth’s temperature.  Further, it is human activity that is creating the offending gas.  I’ll admit that the ‘human activity’ in our house produces enough gas to generate heat for the whole Bole Kebele in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia! If only we could figure out a way to harness that natural energy! You may have wondered about the state of our living as we adapt to recent changes, now you know - it’s a gas!

But there is some good news too. In an attempt to offset the negative impacts our family is having on the environment, we have started a moisture re-use program.  On a daily basis we are producing copious amounts of natural tears, which we are using responsibly to water our plants. Moreover, the resultant increase in humidity helps to maintain our hardwood floors, allowing us to use less water in our humidifier.  We know that water efficiency saves energy and reduces the effects of global warming.

What we didn’t know was that one of the undesirable effects of global warming is extreme weather change. We are experiencing that phenomenon locally – on a daily basis.  Why just the other day Faven woke up cloaked in a dense fog and within minutes had erupted into a blustering storm, when her little brother blew wind in her face.  Then with the swift and calming forces of Mother Nature, there was a settling that would have amazed the most skilled magician.  However, not a breath later when breakfast was served, garnished with greens from God’s gardens, the rains erupted without warning from tear ducts bursting to capacity.  The kitchen was flooded with the emotions of a girl who hungered for a small taste of home.  As the relative humidity rapidly rose, Mother Nature dwelled upon this dilemma and decided to breeze in with a bountiful beatitude.  The shift, as unpredictable as a Calgary weather forecast, vacillated between gusts of verbal vindications and groans of exasperated easement.  Mother Nature silently slipped some familiar fare in front of Faven, while enfolding her in a blanket of fleecy, fluffy cloud- momentarily protecting her from the unpredictable elements of this new system.

Then, with a heavy and heartfelt sigh, the cloud cleared and the room was aglow with sumptuous sunshine.  The air was clear and warm, the tornado warnings now a distant memory.

Family photos

Check out our latest photos on the Pages section.  Just click on Favorite family photos on picasaweb, then click on the link - and click slideshow.

Enjoy!

Band-Aid Mom

In my early years of mothering, I was against band-aids, in the same way that some people are against bug spray, or vaccinations.  I was ever vigilant on my quest to ‘bust’ band-aid abusers – if only with my self-righteous, judgmental thoughts and smug condescending looks. Throughout the 20^th Century band-aids have fallen into the same category as duct tape and their uses have showcased some of the most creative human minds. Most impressive was a small child who tried to piece together a bug that had been inadvertently harmed (beyond function, but still living), in the fray of a busy playground.  Myself, (not one to be self-righteous in an emergency) I once used band-aids to hold my diffuser onto a hotel blow dryer.

The band-aid was fashioned in 1920 by Earle Dickson, who was a cotton buyer for Johnson & Johnson. He developed the band-aid for his wife, Josephine, who was clumsy and frequently cut herself while working in the kitchen.  Earle, as a new and doting husband, simply wanted to comfort his wife. In my new role as Mom, I turned in another direction.  I was determined to avoid the use of band-aids until absolutely necessary. (Equally utopian were my vows not to allow my child to watch TV, chew gum, or sleep in my bed!) The problem with creating rules in advance is that you really have no idea what is coming.  Despite that, my daughter did not see a band-aid until she was at least three years old.  Truth was, I just didn’t want a child who needed a band-aid for every little boo-boo.  It seemed unnecessary, even wasteful (if not in product, certainly in time).  

That was then. Now (a few kids later) I have band-aids, gauze, antiseptic wipes, Kleenex, suckers and gum in every nook and cranny that we live in and out of.  I would not be caught red-handed without a band-aid!  I have learned a thing or two.

Children have pain beyond what our eyes can see, and

Band-aids are more than just physical objects.

Enter Faven – she is ten and joined our bustling family five months ago, through international adoption.  On an almost daily basis Faven has come to me with some minor hurt that needs attending to. There have been:  tears in the skin at the bottom of her nails, cracked dry skin, canker sores, sore teeth, rashes, bruises, swollen knees, dry and itchy skin, a torn finger nail, a scratch from her sister, a callous, a sore neck, bad hair, AND a blister on her baby toe that warranted her waking me up from a sound sleep at 11:30 at night! There have also been numerous miscellaneous oowey’s that I have been unable to diagnose, with “Mawm ouch!” as the only information that she could give.

Initially, I was perplexed by her numerous demands for attention over such small things, certain that she couldn’t have been this needy in Ethiopia.  But, of course, despite exemplary care by loving, attentive and able caregivers, Faven has been without a mother for some time.  These physical complaints have been quite possible for me to deal with (time, patience and energy notwithstanding).  I not only applied band-aids, lotion, ointment, salt-water gargles, ice & heat, and hair products, in so doing I lavished her in human touch and became her living band-aid.  It has allowed her to be a child, to be attended to and to re-establish a role for herself as someone’s daughter, my daughter. Moreover, according to Vancouver psychologist Dr. Gordon Neufeld, Senses are the first stage of attachment. Regardless of age, our kids need to connect with us through activities that stimulate their senses.  Faven’s demands for momentary attention and healing have been a safe and satisfying way for us to begin the lengthy and step-wise journey of attachment.  Our natural instincts are truly amazing!

Band-aids too, are somewhat amazing; all kids who have access to them want them. What did Earle Dickson put in there anyway? I think he bonded the bits and pieces together with love and the healing power of human touch. It is no coincidence that band-aids are difficult for children to apply by themselves.

Band-aids are often used to hide something we don’t want to look at, cover something that doesn’t feel good or conceal and protect a deeper hurt.  Babies don’t need band-aids; they were created with a certain helplessness that naturally elicits actions of love and protection.  However, as children grow they move outside of their parents protective grasp; a band-aid, lovingly applied will immediately re-connect mother to child.  And when a family, such as ours, is blessed with an older child through adoption, the band-aid not only provides an initial adhesive to bond child to mother, but also creates a route for the new mom to apply herself to her child’s wounds both seen and unseen. Band-aids are a sensory metaphor - they 'aid' us in remembering that to fully experience our humanity, we need a 'band' - a connection to others that affirms in us that we are important.

From the Mouths of Babes

We were driving to school this morning – both girls were crying and yelling at each other, and pleading their cases to me: who was mean, who started it, and how in Ethiopia it’s “not like that!”.  I was doing my darndest to provide empathy and guidance, while driving to school as fast as I possibly could – desperate to avoid further conflict.

There was a brief moment of silence, and Yohannes who is not known to be silent for very long piped up and asked (in all seriousness),

            “Mom, if there was a nose-picking contest, do you think I would win?”

Cheeky, the Crossover Language

Scene: Home from school for lunch

Faven: Mom, please can I have this? (box of Smarties)

Mom: No, you may not have that.

Faven: Mawm!  I’m hungry!

Mom: Faven, if you are still hungry, you may have fruit or vegetables.

Faven: (challenging) Okay… what? 

Mom: There are carrots, oranges, grapes….

Faven: (comes right over to me, face close to mine)  Please, wake up mom, I don’t like grapes.

Mom: (yawning and stretching) Okay, I am awake.

Faven: Mawm – me serious!

Mom: Faven, go to the fridge and show me a grape.

Faven goes to the fridge and takes out a carton of blueberries.

Mom:  Those are blueberries.

Faven looks at them, shrugs her shoulders and puts them back.  Next she pulls out a bag of grapes and holds that up.

Mom: Yes, those are grapes.

Faven: Ohhhhh…. I like grapes.