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Hyper Parents & Coddled Kids


Did you catch this CBC documentary yesterday?

I got a heads-up from Ann Douglas’ blog at parentcentral.ca that it was coming and I was intrigued. In her review, Douglas concludes that this “hyper-parenting” phenomenon is largely a thing of the past:

The documentary is worth watching, if only as a reminder of where we’ve been and how far we’ve come in rejecting the consumerist parenting style that views parents as manufacturers and kids as products to be paraded before the neighbors and the relatives.

I’m not so sure, though. I think hyper-parenting is still highly pervasive in one form or another.

As example, I know a college professor who refuses to take calls from the parents of students — he finds it utterly ludicrous that he would need to speak to the parent of an adult. But apparently a lot of the parents don’t think so, because it keeps happening year after year.

I also know a senior high-school teacher who, although he loves his job, does admit to the frustration of dealing with “enabled” students and their parents. If a student, as example, does not hand-in their assignment and as a result is not allowed to progress to the next task, he can expect a parent call. And when the parent doesn’t get what they want from speaking to the teacher, they’ll move on up to the vice-principal. In a school system that barely allows students to be held accountable for their actions, parents like this only seem to compound the issue.

How these same young people will ever live as independent adults is anyone’s guess. Which is why the documentary was particularly fascinating when it focused on young adults that were not long out of the nest. Some were university students hobbled by anxiety. And then there was one young woman who seemed to epitomize the issue perfectly. She was bright, but seemingly clueless when it came to “real life” smarts. She cited being let go from a number of jobs due to attitude, lateness and disrespect for senior colleagues.

At the point when the documentary catches her, she’d chosen to leave a job that paid 90,000/year to start her own business. The business never took off and we see her prancing into an office to discuss bankruptcy with a designer bag, takeaway coffee and iPhone phone in hand. And what will happen to this helpless creature? Oh, mommy and daddy will surely take her back in. They’ve already been subsidizing her rent, after all.

Perhaps when Douglas suggests that hyper-parenting is no longer a common practice, she’s referring more to the over-indulgence of consumer goods upon children — the latest toys, video games and designer clothes — as grossly demonstrated in the documentary’s coverage of a $4,000 birthday party for a one-year-old. But even in this regard, I’m not so sure it’s a done deal either.

The documentary notes that hyper-parenting is found in the middle- to upper-classes. I live in a middle- to upper-class neighbourhood and I can attest that consumerism is still rampant in this neck of the woods! Kids wearing Lululemon, toting Nintendo DS players, heading out to multiple extra-curricular activities a week and returning home to their McMansions. Sure, it’s not everyone, but there’s enough to safely say that it exists.    

So, if this hyper-parenting does in fact exist in strong numbers, am I one of them? I don’t think so. But sometimes I actually have this irrational urge to be one.

What do I mean by that? Well, the documentary points to two driving factors behind hyper-parenting: fear (as suggested by the author Carl Honore) and peer pressure (as suggested by one of the parents).

Like all parents, I’m vulnerable to any suggestions of harm to my children. This innate desire to protect our children is used to sell newspapers, magazines, products and services everyday.

How? Okay, here’s one example: headlines shouting out that a child has been abducted by a stranger. It’s not that the media shouldn’t report on this — it is news, after all. It’s just that my intense desire to protect my child can overshadow the hard facts that stranger abductions are exceedingly rare. This parental fear is why few children ever walk to school or their bus stop unsupervised.

And despite my best efforts to shed this fear, I am one of those parents whose children are rarely unsupervised. So what’s the harm in this? The documentary draws a few interesting connections. The first is that when one isn’t allowed unsupervised play, then one ends up with structured play — like a team sport. Honore points out that team sports take all the control away from the child because the rules are made for them, the referree decides who is playing by the rules, etc. The documentary also points out that once you’ve been hovering around your child long enough, it starts to seem natural. Both parents and child get used to always having each other around and a co-dependence develops which makes eventual independence less likely.

The other driving factor that I mentioned above was peer pressure. As much as I hate to admit it, I feel the weight of peer pressure … that so-and-so is taking this class, perhaps my child should too? I actually feel embarrassed to admit that my children are enrolled in exactly zero extra-curricular activities at the moment. Rationally, I know that my children are getting exercise and stimulation through the more unstructured things we do as a family. But I still have this irrational response to the peer pressure to conform to what others are doing. I guess when it comes right down to it, this peer pressure brings me back in a circular swing to fear. The fear that maybe so-and-so is doing the best thing for their child and that I am depriving my child of something very important.

So what have I got to conclude from all of this? I guess:
1. That hyper-parenting is harmful to children
2. That hyper-parenting is a form of parental instinct, but magnified to excess
3. That I am vulnerable to fear and peer pressure

Nothing too ground-breaking in that list, is there? But still, the issue is deeply fascinating to me.

It really got me thinking about a lot of things — especially how much I dislike the use of fear-mongering to sell products and services to parents. It’s used to sell everything from books, to “green” products, to electronics and technology. (It also got Andrea Tomkins thinking about a lot of things too, which you can read here.)

And it really got me wondering if I have the potential to be a hyper-parent. I’ve concluded that I probably have the potential, but I’m just too darn tired to bother!

If you missed this documentary, you can read about it and view video clips here.

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An Interesting Human: Dr. Basil Donovan


For my new gig over at Life As A Human, I have my first in a series of “interesting human” profiles posted today!

It features Dr. Basil Donovan, who was a member of a committed coalition of medical professionals, homosexuals, sex workers, nuns, drug addicts and politicians that “broke the law, offended everyone, and saved tens of thousands of lives” when AIDS first hit Sydney, Australia in the early ’80s.

You can check out this short profile by clicking here.

And please let me know if you have any suggestions for other interesting humans to interview for future profiles!

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The Winter Resolution series: The Shilly Shally


Ah, the infamous Shilly Shally. Stella has been raving about the charm of the Shilly Shally for years now. I’m not sure if she goes on about it unconsciously or as a conscious attempt to convince me to go cross-country skiing with her and hubby. Either way, I have always responded with something along the lines of “Have a special time with Daddy, while Mommy does some reading.”

But that changed on Sunday. Why? Oh, because of that damn inspiring winter resolution I made to learn how to not hate enjoy winter.

If you’re like me, you might have  briefly wondered what the Shilly Shally actually is — and then turned the page in your novel. I’ll tell you anyhow, though. It’s a little wooden cabin in the Gatineau Hills where one can take a break while cross-country skiing. It’s kitted out with a wood burning stove and picnic bench, and Stella and hubby have shared many a hot chocolate (with marshmallows of course!) within its comfort.

This weekend, I’d promised my gang to join them cross-country skiing. On Saturday, I said, “Oh, I thought we’d agreed to Sunday?” On Sunday, I started chugging coffee and convincing myself it would be fun. Hubby did his darndest to convince me too — cooking us all a blueberry pancake breakfast and packing all the gear and lunch on his own. How could I back out now?

So, there I was, in the car, driving to the Gatineaus. We parked and began the Promenade du Lac-Fortune Parkway. As always in the Gatineaus, the trails were beautifully groomed and even better — the sun had started to shine on us. Just like going to the gym, once I was actually there and started, I thought “gee, this is great! I should do this more often.”

Seriously, it felt wonderful. I have an old neck injury, so a lot of exercise I do doesn’t end up feeling wonderful, but cross-country skiing is no-impact and it felt as strenuous as a brisk walk. The total route was about 9 kms. If you think that sounds like a long ways, I did too, but take heart — I am completely out of shape and both me and my seven-year-old daughter managed it — so I’m sure you can too! (All of the gear did its magic and proved its worth, btw).

This is the summary then …

Negative thoughts:

  • This is a heck of a lot of preparation, packing and driving just for a couple of hours of skiing.
  • I bet I could burn more calories on the tread mill at the gym — and in less time.
  • I hope I’m not going to be cold.
  • I don’t think Max is enjoying himself.
  • I better be skinny at the end of this.

Positive thoughts:

  • Oh, it is so beautiful out here! The forest, the lakes, the fresh air!
  • Stella is amazing — look at her endurance!
  • There are so many awesome fathers out here taking their children skiing or pulling them in sleds. (Including my own husband.)
  • I’m not so outta shape as I thought I was; I’m doing just fine.
  • This is the perfect way to spend a Sunday. Who cares if it is “slow” — that’s what it’s all about — just spending time together.
  • Max is totally charming the pants off the other skiers here in the Shilly Shally — that’s my boy!
  • Mmmm … hot chocolate!
  • Wow, even the outhouse is nicely maintained here.
  • I could seriously live in this Shilly Shally shack, it’s so darn cute!
  • Oh yes! Great idea — yummy cappuccino from a Chelsea coffee shop for the drive home and home-baked cookies for the kids!

So, as you can see, the positives definitely outnumber the negatives. I know this now … still fresh in my memory. But I’m sure that having written them out will be helpful for me to refer to the next Sunday I am to exchange quiet reading time in exchange for healthy, family time.

It really was the perfect Sunday.

rsz_1shillyshally

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Life As A Human has launched!


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So, today is the big day! Life As A Human, the Canadian-based e-zine I was telling you about in my last post has now launched.

I really had no idea how it was all going to come together or who the other writers were — it was a bit of a leap of faith to sign-on as a contributor. As you can imagine then, I was super keen to check it out first thing this morning.

The result? I’m thrilled!

And honoured. Because the editorial team selected one of my posts to include on launch day. Here’s a little teaser to entice you to click on over and visit:

Charisma is no longer magic, it’s measurable. So will the winner keep winning if the rest of us can now study her secrets to success? The playing field’s been leveled.

If you go on over and visit, please let me know by leaving a comment at Life As A Human. I can’t wait to hear what you think too!

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My head is really big


My head is so big, it’s practically toppling off my neck at the moment. Here’s why:

An unexpected shout-out!

I like to poke around Girl about O-town’s blog because she always seems to know what new funky things are going on around Ottawa. Not the same ol’ stuff — fresh, interesting stuff! I love admiring great design — paper, home, web — and as it happens, not only does she as well but she also creates a lot too. So much so, she just left her job and jumped out into the brave new world of entrepreneurship as a design coach. Anyhow, back to me … so I go and check out her new post and boom! There is my banner right there, front and centre. Wow, was I flattered! My head expanded just a teeny-tiny bit.

A new blogging gig!

A while back I received an email via my blog. This happens, and people try to sell you their secrets to riches or large penises — whatever you might happen to fancy. But this email was different. It was from a man named Christopher Holt. Unlike the other emails I get, he and his partners had clearly read my blog. And — get this — were inviting me to be a part of a brand new e-magazine. How could I not be flattered by that?

But for me, it got even better … the group starting up this e-magazine, called Life As A Human, are Canadian. A genuinely friendly and earnest group that includes, in addition to Christopher as Vice-President, Gil Namur as CEO and Kerry Slavens as Editor in Chief. The official launch for Life As A Human is February 1st — this Monday! (Before it launches, you can still click on the logo in the right-hand column for a chance to win $250!) So it’s all pretty exciting. This LAAH gang is all out West, so hubby and I are hanging our hopes on its outrageous success so that we can finally move out and buy our Gulf Islands cottage with art studio in the back. Can you hear my head creaking under the pressure?

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I’m nominated for a weblog award!

I’ve never been nominated for an award before, so this is super cool! And I didn’t even have to pay anyone off (well, not that much, anyhow). It’s for a 2010 Canadian Weblog Awards! As you can imagine, my head is practically bursting now!

2010 Canadian Weblog Awards Nominee

2010 Canadian Weblog Awards Nominee

2010 Canadian Weblog Awards Nominee

 

But here is how I REALLY know my head is getting out of proportion. Stella made this comment about my head, completely out of no where:

This morning, I am trying to get Max’s attention.

“Huh,” I say. “He just doesn’t seem to want to look me in the eye.”

Stella responds: “Maybe because you’re a medusa. Maybe that’s why.”

Hubby starts backing away out the door, chuckling as quietly as he can manage while still breathing.

media

A pelvic exam without my consent?


As you know, I am now bopping around in Twitter checking it all out and making new friends, er, followers.

Today I started to notice some tweets about women having pelvic exams done to them while they are unconscious in the hospital. Like many bits of way too information that I let into my day, I let it go into my line of sight and then right back out – I easily dismissed it as something pulled from a trashy magazine or something. But the tweets on this kept coming, and then I saw Ann Douglas, a highly respected parenting author and social activist make a tweet on it. What the? Could it really be a real story?

I checked out one of these tweet links, which led me to The Bad Moms Club blog. And it turns out that this story is not only for real, but it’s from Canada. I was utterly stunned. Here is the article from today’s Globe & Mail for you to read for yourself. It begins like this:

Imagine that you are undergoing a fairly routine surgery – say, removal of uterine fibroids or hysterectomy. During or right after the procedure, while you are still under anesthesia, a group of medical students parades into the operating room and they perform gynecological exams (unrelated to the surgery) without your knowledge.

Do you consider this okay, or an outrageous violation of your rights?

Regardless of your feelings, you should be aware that this is standard procedure in many Canadian teaching hospitals.

I want to read the full source article that the Globe’s Andre Picard refers to. To date though, I’ve only found an abstract, which you can read here and which states in part:

Medical students need to undertake supervised pelvic examinations to achieve competence. This experience is freqently obtained by conducting pelvic examinations on anaesthetized patients who are undergoing gynaecological surgery.

I think you’ll agree that the very fact that the study was published in the Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology, published by the Society of Obstetricians and Gynecologist of Canada (SOGC) is really ruining my trashy magazine theory.

So, to get down to the nitty gritty on this … if I go in to the hospital to get my tonsils taken out, I’m not going to have a pelvic exam unknowingly done on me while I’m unconscious. But, if I go into the hospital to have a gynecological surgery of some sort, well, yeah, there’s a good chance that this could happen.

The actual SOGC Clinical Practice Guidelines on “Pelvic Examinations by Medical Trainees” is available in full here. It states:

For most pelvic surgeries, it is important for the members of the surgical team to examine the patient under anaesthesia to confirm the suspected patholody and the initial steps of the surgical approach. As part of the description of the surgical procedure, the surgeon should inform the patient that she may be examined by a trainee at the beginning of the surgery.

Okay, it’s getting a bit more clear for me now … If I go in for a gynecological surgery, chances are that I will require a pelvic exam as part of the surgical process. If the surgery is taking place in a teaching hospital, a medical trainee may be the one to actually do the pelvic exam. If a medical trainee is involved in my surgery, I will be informed in advance and my consent secured. I can refuse consent. Okay, I’m all good with that.

The pelvic examination is a component of the surgical procedure. Consent for a pelvic examination by medical trainees who are a part of the surgical team is therefore implicit [emphasis mine] when consent for participation in the surgical proceudre by medical trainees is obtained.

But here’s where it gets a bit gray: Do all gynecological surgeries require a pelvic exam? It seems not because later in these same clinical guidelines it states:

As pelvic examination under anaesthesia is a component of most [emphasis mine] pelvic surgeries, consent for pelvic examination by medical trainees is contained within content for a surgical procedure.

So from reading the above, it seems that a medical trainee may undertake a pelvic exam on a unconscious patient for “education purposes” — purposes that have nothing to do with the surgery. Yet, as the patient, I am completely unware that this is being done because consent is considered “implicit.”

Huh. Please tell me how consent — by its very definition — can ever be implicit? One cannot consent to something if one doesn’t know it’s happening!

I’d like to see these clinical guidelines changed to ensure that there is explicit consent, wouldn’t you?

An extra note: Not surprisingly, women are up in arms about this practice. Since last night, tons of new posts have gone up on this issue. You can add a comment to this post “Dear Nether-probers, we the undersigned, say STOP IT” in support of ending this practice.

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An Ode to a Teacher


If you live in Ontario, you still have a few days left to submit a nomination to the Premier’s Teaching Awards for Excellence. Just being nominated means the world for a hard-working teacher!

Below is my nomination and a public shout-out to a special teacher in our daughter’s life. Please feel free to use my comments section to share your thoughts or memories of teachers that have made an impact in your life or the lives of your children.

*******

They’re rare. But if you’re lucky, your child’s school has one. That teacher who despite decades of experience still bounds down the hall with a sparkle in her eye. That teacher who young students rush up to and can’t help but throw their arms around her. That teacher who arrives home, prepares dinner and cares for her own children before returning yet again to yours with extra hours of tireless preparation in the evening. That is the teacher that students remember. And that is the teacher that parents are grateful for.

It is this quiet grace that I hope you might acknowledge — the teacher who demands nothing more than her own satisfaction for a job well done, that simply does her job so well and with so much joy that the extra hours, the intelligent learning strategies, and the intense commitment to each and every child can be taken for granted. This teacher is Ms. Stefanie Young, elementary school teacher at [school name].

I am but one parent who is grateful to her and to her contribution to my child’s love of learning and self-esteem. And as such, I will share with you our story.

Our daughter Stella is now seven years old and in grade two. Since a very young age, she has been remarkably articulate and inquisitive. She can, however, be on the tad eccentric side. For example, she was so taken with the character mascots for the Olympics that she refused to wear any other shirt than an Olympic shirt for close to an entire year! As parents, we all have high hopes for our children and want to see them reach their potential, but I found myself deeply disappointed after her first year at school. She was bored, uninspired and had not been welcomed into her peer group. Although I am a working parent, I came into the classroom as a volunteer every two weeks, so I witnessed this first-hand. I considered and consulted with a number of alternative and private schools. It was of utmost importance to me that my daughter, who was so naturally passionate about learning, did not lose this passion – and especially at such an early age.

Then our family life took an interesting turn. My husband was accepted for a one-year work contract to Australia and we were to depart at the end of January. Since our daughter would only be attending a Canadian school for half a year, I chose not to change schools and instead stick with the familiar to make our upcoming exchange as comfortable as possible for our daughter.

The choice to stay at [school name] was definitely the right one. Stella had Ms. Young as her teacher. Her father and I noted the difference in her attitude towards school. She no longer complained about going and instead went excitedly to the bus stop. She also came home overflowing with stories of learning and her day. And, what was most gratifying for us, she spoke of new friends and the activities they did together. We thought perhaps it might have been a developmental thing for Stella, but we soon realized that it was her teacher that had cultivated this positive environment for our child.

How did she do this? I don’t know all of the countless ways she must have done this, but I do know that:

  • The work that came home was clearly integrating and linking her specific interests to the learning lessons.
  • Stella, who has always preferred to play with the toys in the class traditionally coveted by the boys such as dinosaurs and blocks, was encouraged and welcomed into the boys’ circle of play where before she had been shunned.
  • Stella developed a number of close friendships with the boys in her class and ultimately I was able to extend this beyond the classroom through notes facilitated by Ms. Young to book playdates outside of school.
  • Whatever unusual things (such as plastic insect replicas or volcanic stone from family a trip) Stella chose to bring to school to share with the class were celebrated and shared, rather than ignored.

Before embarking on our overseas trip, my husband and I had some questions about how to transition Stella from her current Canadian senior kindergarten class, to a class in Australia, and then back to what would be a Canadian grade one class. We were not sure if we should enroll Stella into kindergarten or grade one in Australia and what curriculum gaps might exist between what was taught in Canada and what was taught in Australia. We met with Ms. Young and raised these concerns.

We were astounded by her helpful response. She went through the entire Canadian curriculum for both years and the entire Australian curriculum (which we had a copy of) and compared the two. She returned a copy with highlighted areas in the curriculum where there might be gaps and that as parents we could work on independently at home, as well as a recommendation that we enroll Stella into grade one in Australia. This would ultimately mean that Stella would complete an entire grade one year in Australia and return back to Canada to a half a year of grade one again. In doing so, she could reconnect with her Canadian peers socially without the academic pressures of trying to catch up on learning. This made excellent sense to us since it was her social skills not her academic skills that we were most concerned about as parents. Ms. Young had a strong understanding of Stella’s social and academic skills and understood that if there were going to be challenges, they were going to be social. I can only imagine how much time Ms. Young must have spent to provide us with such detailed and well-researched advice.

Before leaving on our adventure, I shared my contact information and email with Ms. Young. To my delight, I received emails from Ms. Young checking in on how Stella was doing. (From the time stamps on the emails, I knew she was doing this during her own personal time.) Further, she sent me a package that included a photo of Stella’s Canadian class and suggested that we do a letter exchange between her Canadian class and her Australian class.

I brought Ms. Young’s letter into Stella’s Australian teacher as well as the photos. Both the teacher and students were fascinated because none of the children in Stella’s class had travelled to North America before and also because Australian children all wear uniforms to school so they found the clothes worn by the Canadian kids in the school picture really interesting.

I returned the favour to Ms. Young and sent a letter explaining what we had done on our family school holiday to the Cape Tribulation rain forest and the Great Barrier Reef. I also included some photos and postcards. Ms. Young took this material and laminated the letter and photos into a book that she read to Stella’s Canadian peers and then left in the classroom for the children to look at in more detail during free time. In doing so, Ms. Young created both a fantastic learning opportunity about the flora, fauna and geography of Australia but also kept Stella’s presence in the minds of her peers so that when she returned, they would not have forgotten her and thus make her social transition easier. We continued the package exchange during the year, with Ms. Young sending a package of Canadian pencils and stickers for Stella’s entire Australian class. Stella’s classmates were so thrilled that many parents told me that their children were still cherishing their stickers and pencils even weeks later. Ultimately, this kind of package exchange enabled a learning experience not just for Stella — the individual child — but for two entire classrooms in opposite ends of the world! (And she did all of this on her own time and with her own money for packaging and Canadian souvenirs.)

Upon our return to Canada, the subtle — but very clever — work of Ms. Young was clearly successful. Stella’s peers remembered her and excitedly spoke of the animals she had seen and welcomed her back into the snowy winter of Canada, which they knew she hadn’t seen for more than a year.

We feel fortunate that our child is healthy and does not have to face the very real challenges of a learning, physical or vast cultural difference or obstacle. But she is still an individual child with individual needs and Ms. Young recognizes this for each and every child that crosses her path. And for that, I think she is exceptional. It is a rare teacher that can take the common day-to-day tasks of a job and consistently apply excellence.

We are very grateful to Ms. Young. She had faith in our child and her unique traits and we in turn have faith that Stella feels a sense of strong belonging to [school name] as a result. Ms. Young demonstrates holistic learning in the true sense and is an example of all that is right and wonderful about our Canadian public school systems.

Do you have a teacher like this when you were growing up? I bet you still remember them fondly! How about your child … do they have a favourite teacher that gets them excited about learning?

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I buzzed over to Montreal this weekend


To push myself up into the higher ranks of the Mother-of-the-Year contest, I took Stella to Montreal this weekend. Yes, we went shopping and got Mommy & Me pedi’s & mani’s!

Did I have you convinced — even momentarily — on that one? Okay, okay. We know my Stella would never entertain such notions. But I did go to Montreal.

And I just may be up for Mother-of-the-Year, too! Because, surely, spending the weekend looking at tarantulas, cockroaches and giant beetles has to count for something. (Please, please tell me it counts for something!)

Here is a highlight from our visit to the Insectarium. This is a praying mantis enjoying a lovely little snack — the head of a live cricket.

mantis sma

Watching this praying mantis with a mix of fascination and horror is my girlfriend Pam, who joined us with her son, who is also 7 years old. You will not be surprised by the look on her face to know that she is saying: “This is SO DISGUSTING! But I JUST CAN’T look away!”

pam sm

Now, as much as you are probably dying to hear more about these sweet little creatures, I don’t want to spill too much. Details will be forthcoming though in articles for the Ottawa Citizen and The City Traveler.

In the meantime, I will share some tidbits with you that are bound to come in handy in the week ahead.

  • There are lots of ants in the world: Only 2% of insects live in social groups, but they represent more than 50% of the total biomass of all insects.
  • Insects are very romantic: When night falls, it’s time for walkingsticks to engage in their two main activities: eating and mating. They even eat while mating, over a period of hours.
  • Humans are weird: Young men in the Waiapa tribe of Brazil are initiated into their tribe with a ritual that involves suffering in silence while they are being stung by ants trapped in wooden tubes against their skin.

And one final, completely unnecessary piece of information:

  • My weight is equivalent to 3.5 million ants.
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Julie visits the ER


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It’s not too often that one gets to do something for the first time after 38 years on this earth. But through a combination of good luck and conscientious avoidance, I have never had a visit to the ER. Yesterday, however, I was initiated to life in the ER. I spent from 7 am to 3 pm there — 8 hours of my life I will never get back (or get paid for, for that matter).

I started getting abdominal pains on my right side at dinner time on Tuesday. No biggie I thought. Just a bit of gas. After spending the night awake due to pain, I no longer thought it was gas. So I packed myself up and drove to the hospital first thing on Wednesday am.

It occurred to me that one shouldn’t really be driving themselves to the ER. Arriving with sirens and cute paramedics running alongside my stretcher was the requisite entrance, wasn’t it? I wondered if I was acting like a hypochondriac, and that the people in the ER would nod at me when I described my pain but then turn around and roll their eyes thinking, “oh, another one of THOSE ones.” At this point I was starting down on a familiar self-hating conversational path telling myself to stop being so paranoid … why do you care what people think … yada, yada. But it was a weak debate due to the lack of sleep and the distracting pain, so I ended up at the ER anyhow.

I walked in and looked around. It was remarkably unlike an episode Grey’s Anatomy. There were exactly three people waiting. I discreetly checked them out, but none of them showed any visible signs of injury and left me with nothing to gawk at. There were no knife stabbing victims, men with axes stuck in their head, women giving birth or people burnt beyond recognition. You can imagine my disappointment.

But Grey’s Anatomy hadn’t led me entirely astray. The male in-take nurse could substitute for McDreamy, so that at least was one thing to gawk at. And I eventually did get to see some blood, albeit my own. A nurse that was in training gave me an IV and let me tell you, it was a blood bath (with a lot of “sorry”s thrown in).

That’s where any mild connections to Grey’s Anatomy ended. While Seattle Grace has at least 5 doctors floating about the ER at all times, I didn’t see a single one until 11 am. I don’t know if this is a result of cost-cutting measures or because of doctor shortages or just a fluke of the particular day I arrived. Whatever the reason, it just felt strange. A bunch of us had been divvied out into different cubicles and I could see people wandering out looking confused or exasperated because they had been sitting in there so long. There were lots of nurses though, chit-chatting about cell phone features and trips to Thailand. Intermittently, they would tell those straying out of the cubicles that, “someone will be with you in a minute.” One nurse walked by and noticed me buckled over in pain and closed the door so I could have privacy. No one opened the door again until 11 am, so I could have been cold and stiff by then as far as they knew.

The person who opened the door was a doctor. This was good. She had the results of my blood and urine tests and they showed no signs of kidney stones. From here, my visit became more like an episode of House. It was a mystery to be solved — what was causing this woman’s abdominal pain? Except there was no secluded room with specialists debating my case and I didn’t have a rare, life-threatening illness. Other than those minor little things, exactly like House.

I’ll make a long story short here (because I don’t want to bore you silly and because Grey’s Anatomy is starting in exactly 8 minutes). After blood work, urine work, and two rounds of ultrasounds, there was no conclusive answer to what was causing my pain. Kidney stones got rules out. Gall stones got rules out. Urinary tract infection got ruled out. Flu got ruled out. Food poisoning got ruled out. And finally, appendicitis got ruled out too. However, unlike House, the patient simply packed up her stuff at 3 pm and hobbled her way back out to the parking lot.

Sure, the whole thing was a bit of an exercise in futility. But when faced with the looming onset of frustrated anger or self-pity, I ward it off with an old trick that works every time – I start to count every last one of my blessings that I have to be grateful for.

When I walked out of the ER, the place was packed. And I was grateful to be going home.

(Yes, I’m feeling much better now — thanks for asking!)

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I’m a twit


I’ve been curious about Twitter for a while now. Although I’m completely captivated by social media,  I’ve been holding off on joining because it just seemed like one more way for me to suck time out of my day.

But this week I joined. My brother’s response was “It was inevitable.” My husband’s response was “Just be careful what you ‘put out there’.” My response? I’m still undecided.

On the one hand, it is really fun to exchange quick little snippets back and forth. Especially between other bloggers that I enjoy. But on the other hand, it is like sitting yourself in front of that guy who is always trying to prove how clever he is. It’s a constant flow of snappy little quips and  self-promotion.

It also has a wierd non-stop popularity contest feel about it. As soon as you sign up for Twitter, you choose who you want to “follow” and other people will choose if they want to be your “follower.” I understand the use of the word “follow” — it is more accurate than “friend,” after all — but still …  it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? I am a follower. I have followers.

It’s official — I’m a twit. Are you?

If you’re on Twitter, let me know. I’ll be your follower! Just put your handle in my comments section.

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family

I did my homework on homework


As a follow-up from this post/rant, I did a bit of digging on this homework research I’ve heard people reference. And like most things – or at least most research data – it can be interpreted in a few different ways. Since the topic sparked a bit of interest, I thought I’d share what I’d found. Kind of like a Coles Notes version (come on, you used Coles Notes at least once, didn’t ya?).

Okay, so in one corner of the ring you have the more traditional stance of “Homework is valuable. Homework works.”

The most authoritative research on this is a Duke University study that reviewed more than 60 research studies on homework from from 1987 to 2003 and synthesized the results. The conclusion? Homework does have a positive effect on student achievement:

With only rare exception, the relationship between the amount of homework students do and their achievement outcomes was found to be positive and statistically significant.

There are some “but”s to this, though. The first is age, and the second is how much. This is no surprise to you — we’ve all been commenting on these two factors for a couple of days now.

So, what did they find?

With regards to age, the study found that the positive correlation was much stronger for secondary students -– those in grades 7 through 12 -– than those in elementary school. And with regard to how much, it showed that too much homework can be counter-productive for students at all levels [emphasis is mine].

If you really want to be a good student, the full results from this study are covered in the book The Battle over Homework: Common Ground for Administrators, Teachers, and Parents by Corwin Press, 2001.

Since this the time of this study’s publication, a number of opposing voices have come to the fore. These are the voices from the other side of the ring, the “Homework has no proven benefits. It’s just busy-work.”

For instance, a study completed in 2008 by two Toronto professors found that Ontario students are doing more homework than their counterparts in other provinces. And further, that homework is causing family conflict, even marital stress:

In their study, more than 1,000 parents were surveyed and said while they like the good work habits homework promotes, as well as how it helps parents be involved in their children’s academic lives, the amount students are getting is interfering with family time, causing stress and even marital troubles.

So, should homework be given to young children at all? The debate still rages it seems. And although the school boards have not amended any policies, there is a growing movement to at least modify the type and length of homework provided.

A 2004 article published in Education, offers this recommendation related to age, type and family stress:

Homework is still an important educational tool that should be used at all levels, but in a prudent manner. At the elementary level, it certainly should not be used to introduce new material or just to give kids some work to take home to show their parents something is happening at school. Nor should it be a daily drudgery of worksheets and times tables, but interesting activities that can be done with the help of family. More independent and involved homework should come at the advent of high school. The only way to end the battle is to make sure that homework is relevant, varied, and takes place outside of the classroom.

Gee, that sounds easy doesn’t it?

What do you think? Do we need an overhaul of the culture around homework — coming directly from the administration, down through to teachers, to parents and last, but not least, students? And does this research change your mind at all? Do you have other research sources you’d like to share with me?

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Your homework is interrupting my day


If you hang around with parents of young children long enough, you’re bound to hear complaints about homework. I’ve been hearing this kind of chatter well before I had a child who was in school and I think I’ve finally hit my threshold on it. (And so I shall inflict my rant upon my unsuspecting blog readers. Evil laugh.) 

********

Here’s the scene: I’m at a playdate/get-together at a friend’s house. I don’t know any of the other parents besides the friend who invited me. The kids are playing in the basement. The parents are in the sitting room enjoying some wine. The topic of homework comes up. *Sigh* I try to engage in some daydreaming. But that doesn’t work. I’m forced to listen to the same ol’ moans about homework. However, one woman has taken her beliefs on homework way farther than I’ve heard before. Now I’m listening. This could get interesting.

Interesting woman: “Yes, I’ve had issues with Mrs. [teacher name] on the very same thing.”

Other woman: “It’s just so hard to get homework done. I don’t have much time with my son, so the last thing I want to do is spend time battling with him about homework.”

Me [inside voice]: Yeah, I could see how that wouldn’t be fun.

Interesting woman: “My children don’t do homework.”

Me [inside voice]: Huh. I must be really programmed because I never even thought that was an option. But, wow, that’s kinda rebellious I guess.

Interesting woman: “I’ve actually had screaming matches with Mrs. [teacher name] in the school hallway on this.”

Me [inside voice]: Okay, we’re moving past rebellious into some kinda other territory perhaps?

Interesting woman: “I told her that if she has a problem with our son not doing homework that she can arrange for a meeting with me and my husband and the principal.”

Me [inside voice]: Hmmm … I bet there’s more to this story. Some juicy bits.

Interesting woman: “The research shows that doing homework at a young age does not improve academic results and whatnot.”

Man: “Why do they give homework, anyway? It is because the teachers aren’t getting their job done during the day so they send it home?”

Me [inside voice]: Here we go. I knew it would eventually come to this: teacher-bashing. I’m going to fill up my wine glass now.

Man: “Like, why do they spend time colouring and whatnot. If they spent the time in school teaching, then we wouldn’t need homework.”

Other woman/Interesting woman/Man: [chuckles]

Me [inside voice]: Quick, get up and get another glass of wine before you blow your top!

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Wondering why I stayed quiet? Well, I have enough teachers in my family to know that I simply can’t respond in a nice, calm objective way when we stumble into the ol’ teacher-bashing territory. So I just try and keep my mouth shut (at least with people I don’t know!). 

Surely, though, I am not the only one who sees value in homework, am I? I mean, yes, it can be a pain if your child is whining about not wanting to do homework and you have to cajole them into it. It can also be a pain to teach your child to go to bed at an appropriate time at night, or to eat from all the nutritional groups, or even to say “please” and “thank you” — and call me old fashioned — but I think that all these things are a parent’s job.

So without consulting a single bit of research, here are three plain ol’ common sense reasons why I think parents should encourage their children to do homework.

1. Your attitude rubs off on your children
Sure, you might find that helping a young child do their homework is tedious or annoying or useless, but what are you teaching your child about homework in voicing this to them? You’re helping them develop a bad attitude towards homework. Eventually, in highschool and university, homework is not an option — your child will need to do it to succeed and pass their courses — but a negative attitude developed early in life will likely be hard to kick.

Tips from an amateur: I can get really frustrated helping my daughter to do homework. She can be a real perfectionist and decide to simply not do something instead of risking to get it wrong. To get through this while biting my tongue and trying to preserve my own attitude (and thus, hopefully, hers), I sometimes tag-team with my husband to get through a particularly tough teaching moment. Other alternatives are to (1) skip the difficult part and move onto the rest and get that done. Sometimes the success builds positive momentum and the hard part doesn’t seem as hard anymore; (2) when all else fails, stop working on it that night and decide to do it immediately after breakfast. After a fresh sleep and a full belly, your child might be more inspired to learn.

2. Homework teaches good study habits
Good study habits are essential for success in higher education. Starting to do homework young may not help a youngster’s grades, but surely it can help in the long-term development of good study habits. When I was young, I cannot recall ever having a bedroom that didn’t have a desk, a lamp and some basic supplies. My parents were both the first in their families to attend university, and neither grew up with these things in their rooms. Clearly, they thought that life might have been a littler easier if they had of had them though. My favourite desk was an old sewing desk of my mother’s that my father had painted a cheerful bright blue and added pretty glass knobs to the drawers. It was my space for learning.

Tips from an amateur: Despite the small size of our rooms, we managed to squeeze a desk into my daughter’s room. Right now though, while she still needs a lot of help getting through her homework, the desk in her room isn’t particularly helpful. Instead, I have a small “homework bin.” In it, are her own special school supplies that others in the family can’t pilfer — Pokemon pencils, a funky ruler, a children’s French dictionary. I pull this bin out and place it on the dining room table while dinner is cooking. She works there and calls out when she wants help. She works on homework at the same time each night, using the same familiar supplies (unless we hit a roadblock and then defer until after breakfast the next day, as explained above).

3. Homework forces me to get involved in my child’s learning
When your children are young, you have to sit down and guide them through it. This forces me as a parent to really get a feel for which areas my child is doing well in and which areas might need some extra help. It also allows me to better understand what is being taught during the day and the overall philosophy of the teacher. As a working parent who does not volunteer during the day at school, I see homework as a way to keep myself involved and in-the-loop with my child’s education.

Tips from an amateur: I engage with my daughter’s teacher though the homework. If there is something my daughter particularly enjoyed, my husband or I will let the teacher know by including a note. Same thing if something was particularly challenging or if there is a reason why a piece of homework did not get completed. It’s just a small interaction, but I like to think that it helps create a larger “teamwork” approach to helping our daughter learn.

Now, that’s just three reasons. Can you think of more? Or perhaps you’ve read the research and feel that there are indeed strong reasons not to do homework at a young age? Please share and tell!

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Invasion of the vibro-bots


The favourite after-dinner storybook at our house lately is this:

Basic Electronics, by Alvis J. EvansBasic Electronics by McWhorter & Evans

Remember how you’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover? As if! Judge away! I think this cover says it all, actually. As my mother-in-law would say, “boring as batshit.”

But not to hubby and Stella. The dining room has been covered with all sorts of mechanical pieces and manuals and tools. I’ve been keeping my distance, but Max will sneak his way in and manage to emerge with something interesting, like a pair of plyers or some other equally dangerous implement.

They’ve been busy making vibro-bots – robots that move using vibration. These little robots look a lot like insects, dancing around with quick twitching legs. Here’s a photo of one of their creations:

s-vibro

The manual hasn’t been used to actually make the robot, just to have some good visuals for explaining all the science behind it. Hubby is forever a teacher — going step-by-step through the building process and explaining circuits, conduits, kinetic movement.

Instructions for making these little robots are readily available online. So if you think you might like to try it as your after-dinner activity too, here are links for you:
Video showing what they look like when moving
How to build a (super cute!) beetle-bot
How to build a bristle-bot (from toothbrush)

I had never heard of these robots before, but apparently they are pretty darn popular. And kids love ‘em!

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Lucky number 13


It was a magical day, as they say. Thirteen years ago.
The day that I married the boy I loved.
Now the boy is no longer. And a man stands in his place.

I never imagined then, that my love could be deeper.
Could be stronger. More powerful and intense.
If he weeps, I weep harder.
When he rejoices, my hearts goes into flight.
A new experience is nothing, if not shared with him.

I love this dear man. Who used to be the boy I loved.
Thank you darling for sharing these years with me.
I am so grateful to have many more ahead.  

Wedding Pic

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A Blogger’s 2009 in Review


Like a fun game of tag, I am going to follow after Andrea and do a Blogger’s 2009 in Review.

Here’s what you do. Just take the first line of the first post of every month and repost them in one big post.

I started blogging in June of this year (and already changed the layout 3 times!). So here’s how mine reads …

June: I know the lawn needs mowing.

July: I Am Canadian.

August: Writers are always on the hunt for ways to improve their craft, and I’m no different.

September: In my first “Letter from South Korea,” we covered off the basics of who, what, when and why Meaghan Harrison chose to leave Canada and teach English overseas.

October: Voila! A fresh new design, just for us!

November: If you’re still feeling a little charbroiled, how about a little comedic interlude courtesy of David Sedaris?

December: In follow-up to my “Ho! ho! ho! ribbit! ribbit! ribbit!” post, I am happy to share this toy review* with you — just in time for Christmas.

A big huge hug to all my bloggy friends who’ve helped me along the way and given me valuable tips. And a big huge hug to all of you who have taken the time to support this blog — it’s been a fantastic way to express myself and work on my writing skills. Happy 2010 to us all!

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