So I simply searched the internet for all cottages that met this criterion and then booked the one at the best rate, which happened to be in a small fishing town called Jonesport …

[to read more, please click here to read the full post on Life As A Human]

Well, I was wrong … my dear Ottawa bloggers and their readers are just so darn gorgeous in real life that the faces really made the entire night last night a real treat.

A real treat that was entirely made possible by the amazing Lynn from Diary of a Turtlehead. She really pulled off an awesome event. There were 24 readers in total and the place was packed!

The faces behind the blogs: Cheeky, animated, earnest, radianting intelligence, curious and just plain beautiful. They were all there last night. And here are a few for you to enjoy as well….

Christine reading from Coffees and Commutes:

Katherine reading from Girl About O-town:

Nat reading from From Nat’s Brain:

Dani from Postcards from the Mothership:

Me, enjoying every single reading:

All photo credits belong to my brother Adam Harrison         who shares his thoughts and amazing photography from his recent travels on his blog Adam in Asia (Yes, that was my brother I was with last night… you know…just in case you thought my husband was 27-years old).

11:30 pm:  Shutting down computer after putting some finishing touches on a report.

1:00 am:  Youngest child wakes up. Mom makes sure everything is okay, puts in some cuddle time and offers some milk.

1:30 am: Youngest child now settled, Mom returns to her bed.

2:00 am: Youngest child awakes again. Mom repeats steps from earlier, with no success.

2:30 am: Mom goes back to her bed with the youngest and hopes for the best. Youngest takes some time to settle into bed, does a lot of flopping around on Mom’s head.

4:30 am: Eldest child comes to bedroom and wakes Mom up. Mom can’t even process why child is up … either a nightmare or mosquito, but ushers child back to their bed.

5:30 am: Mom is in bed with two children. No one is asleep.

Our first expedition with this clunking announcement of parenthood was to Algonquin Park. We spent a weekend at Achray, and it was wonderful. It really renewed my faith that perhaps I would once again enjoy camping. We could use the pop-up tent trailer just until the kids got older and strong enough to canoe and portage with us. It would all be okay. (Well, actually, I knew that everyone in the family would like camping regardless … who’s kidding who — it was all about me. Stella’s been a regular camper well before she was out of diapers, but always with her father. You can read her great tips for camping with kids here on the Kids in the Capital site.) 

This is what the view looked like from our camping site at Achray, Algonquin Park:

With such a great start to our new life as “family campers,” we were keen to head out again. On the Thursday night before the May long weekend, we had not found time to plan anything but felt like taking off. We did a very quick google search for a camp ground in the Lake Placid area. I had fallen in love with this area during the winter and I was keen to go back during warmer weather. Our google search led us to a style of camping we had never done: the “ultra-campground.” These campgrounds were huge, had paved roads to the sites, an outdoor pool, a children’s playground, hot showers and flush toilets. Hubby hesitated; I said: “Come on! It’ll be fun! It’s not our style but the kids will love it.” So we booked it.

And this is what the view looked like from our site at the North Pole Campground in the Adirondack Mountains of New York State:

I think you’ll agree that both settings look beautiful. But there was a vast difference in reality. What you can’t see in this photo is that there were people on sites in front and back of us, with only a mere few feet between. Also, while that water looks inviting, you couldn’t actually swim into the river from the campground — just look at it. To go for a hike, fish or swim, you had to leave the campground. So, really, there was not much to do with the children at the actual site itself. They got bored VERY quickly.

And what do children do when they get bored? Whine. (Whining is actually a “nice” way to describe the screechy phase my two-year-old son has stumbled into lately.) 

And who was in those camp sites in front and behind us? Other families, right? That’s what I would have thought … I mean, who in their right mind would choose to camp like this if not weighted down with diapers and other kid paraphernalia?

As it turns out, though, it was retired couples. Not only did this mean that our children had no playmates about, but that I immediately felt uncomfortable … other parents wouldn’t even notice if our children were loud or rambunctious, but the quiet couple sipping drinks next door? Oh my, I couldn’t help but think that I was ruining their weekend.

Since there was really nothing to do at the camp site itself, my kids were constantly wanting to go to the playground. And if I wanted to sit around a playground all weekend, I would have stayed home! If I’m going to go through the hassle of packing up to go camping, I want to be surrounded by nature. I don’t want to have to walk along a highway to get to nature, I don’t want to have to get in the car to get to nature, and I don’t want to worry that my kids’ natural noise-levels are disturbing other people.

Now, that was my experience in an “ultra-campground.” The North Pole campground itself was top-notch: spotlessly clean, with friendly, helpful staff. But it wasn’t for me. At all.

I was miserable. So much so, that we packed up and drove home a day early.

I have since spent every spare moment re-planning our summer vacation. There is simply no way in hell that I am spending my summer vacation — my first vacation in over a year and a half — road-tripping with our tent-trailer, as originally planned. And I’m getting no complaints because NO ONE wants to be with me when I’m miserable!

I love comparing how I imagined a character to look — and move and speak — to the movie’s version. Sometimes it’s very close, but sometimes it is so vastly different that it simply reinforces why reading is just such a wonderful, uniquely personal experience.

In some ways, reading a blog is like that. There are blogs that I’ve read for years and years. I imagine the writer behind the words a certain way … how they would pronouce a certain expression, where they would raise the inflection of their voice. Many of the blogs I read have a photo of the author, so it really comes down to how that face might move when they speak and would their voice be smooth like butter, or intense and shaking with emotion.

A year ago, I had the chance to hear some of my favourite bloggers read from their blogs. It was at an event called BOLO, or Blog Out Loud Ottawa. It was a real joy.

And as a newly minted blogger who had just started dipping her toes into what I would learn are very deep waters of the blogosphere, I was so grateful to be warmly welcomed by Lynn, who is the creative force behind BOLO and the blog Turtlehead, to the event as a reader. I read my post and people listened. But even better, so many Ottawa bloggers took the time to come and introduce themselves to me. I knew then what I know even better now — the blogging community in Ottawa rocks. (I wrote about my first BOLO experience here.)

The next BOLO is just around the corner — July 7th. I’m going to be a reader again (despite the fact that I have yet to find a babysitter … I’ll be the harried-looking woman with the toddler up past his bedtime and the young girl who hasn’t stopped chatting since she arrived), and today I’m the featured blogger on the BOLO site. Start time is 7pm and it’s taking place at Irene’s Pub on Bank Street. There is no cost to attend and it’s a casual affair where you can hang out and have a beer (or wine, or whatever you please) and come and go as you please.

So please consider this your personal invitation to attend and hear the voices behind the words of so many fantastic blogs in this city! You can see the full list of readers here, as they are announced one by one on the BOLO site.

I really hope to see you there!  

                                                                                                                                          Do you dare wear short-shorts?

If you’re my age and can pull off short-shorts, all the power to you.

If you’re a young woman with long tanned legs you want to show off, all the power to you.

But please — let’s not dress our young girls in short-shorts.

{click here to see why I’m such a prude about short-shorts! It’s my new post on the Life As A Human e-zine}

This constant barrage of criticism can’t be good for my mental health, can it? Even though I can intellectually reject it, messages can still creep into my subconscious.

And if it’s not good for my mental health, then I certainly don’t want to expose my daughter (and son!) to it either. But wait … is it actually possible for her to avoid this kind of exposure? I can limit it but I cannot stop these commercials from reaching her at some point.

This is something that my husband and I have, regretably, had to accept. We’ve decided that it is more effective to teach our children how to think critically and challenge what it presented to them, than to  spend all of our efforts ensuring that they are not exposed to this kind of mass-manipulation.

So if the television is on in our house and the woman on the television is telling me how to lose weight before bathing suit season, I will talk back to her: “Oh, shut up! I am fine the way I am and diets are unhealthy. You just want my money!” Or alternatively, “What’s wrong with the wrinkles around my eyes? They’re natural. It’s just something that happens when you age. Stop trying to sell me your stupid creams! And how come you don’t try and sell these creams to men, huh?” 

I just thought you should know in case you drop by one day and find me talking to myself. Or yelling.

And also because I just found a gem of a woman named Sarah Haskins (thanks to Margot Magowan and About Face) and she does a tremendous job and breaking down the marketing techniques that specifically target women. Here is one of my favourites, titled “Target Women: Feeding your Family”:

Other great topics that she covers include: Disney Princesses, Cleaning Products, Yogurt, and Skin Care Science and even Vampires. I think her videos could be a great tool for parents who want to challenge media messages with their tweens and teenagers since she manages to combine a critical eye with wit and some well-chosen snark.

What do you think … did they give you a chuckle? did they make you think twice about how a commercial is manipulating you? And how does a woman manage to maintain any self-esteem these days when we’re faced with critical messaging all around us?

I’ve gotta go now. It’s bathing suit season around the corner and I need to go feed myself a liquid meal.   :P

I’ve been missing you though and even though I’ve already consumed said drink, I’ll attempt to share some fun things that happened this week.

Monday

Some Ottawa bloggers were featured in the Ottawa at Home magazine: Dani, Andrea, Annie, Loukia and me too! If you blink, you might miss my two sentences of fame but I am thrilled to have been included in such great company! (The article does not seem to be online, but it’s on newstands now.)

Tuesday 

Stella was eager to participate in her school’s talent show this year. As the auditions approached, she struggled to figure out a “talent” since she does not sing, dance or play an instrument like many of the other children who were auditioning. I suggested that she had a talent for reading and that oration or public speaking was a talent. She was surprised but happy to recognize that this could be a talent and we set about to find a piece for her to read.

After sharing a number of pieces of poetry with her, she selected one from my friend Andrea’s “stealth poetry” posts. And off she went to the auditions. After waiting on pins and needles for days, she came home with the news that she made it into the talent show, which took place this past Tuesday.

I have no shame in admitting that after she stood up in front of her whole school and read the poem in full — without notes and so clearly and proud – that this mamma was a bit of a blubbery mess.

Wednesday

I went to visit a Montessori school and was amazed by how calm and civilized a group of 15 toddlers could be! I am quite interested in the Montessori method as a potential learning environment for my son Max who is turning two-years old soon, so if you have any experiences or thoughts to share, I’d love to hear them.

Thursday

After dinner, hubby went out to pick up some moleskin bandages. And with that, he is now completely and utterly packed – down to the last detail! – for his upcoming mountain climbing adventure in the Rockies. And? It’s not for ages … he is so cute – just like a kid waiting for Christmas!

Friday

I got to meet A Crafty Mom’s three children as she headed out for their first camping trip as a family of five. The kids were so beautiful and SO excited to be going camping. They are going to have a blast, but I did wonder if perhaps I should have packed her up a Sigg bottle with a nice little Brandy, Lime & Soda.

You know when you sent me that email chain letter that said we would all have bad luck if I didn’t forward it on? Well, I deleted it. And that one where if I didn’t send it on to my seven dearest friends, they would never know how much I cared? Deleted. That internet meme that I you sent with best intentions? Sorry, deleted. Even that chain letter full of stickers for your kids’ friends? Yes, I’m the bad guy who broke the chain.

I just can’t do them. I don’t know what it is … it could be that it’s the sniff of guilt attached to them, or perhaps the thought of dropping another item on to someone else’s to-do list. Or maybe I’m just a party pooper. (That’s a good possibility, actually.)

In any case, I received a chain email letter this morning from my step father-in-law. It was about a woman named Irena Sendler. And it warmed the heart of even this, the grouchiest of chain-letter party poopers, enough that I am going to share it with you.

So, without further ado, here it is:

The prize doesn’t always go to the most deserving!!!

There  recently was a death of a 98 year-old lady named Irena Sendler. During  WWII, Irena, got permission to work in the WarsawGhetto, as a  Plumbing/Sewer specialist. She had an ‘ulterior motive’ … She  KNEW what the Nazi’s plans were for the Jews, (being German.)  Irena smuggled infants out in the bottom of the tool box she  carried and she carried in the back of her truck a burlap sack,  (for larger kids.) She also had a dog in the back that she  trained to bark when the Nazi soldiers let her in and out of the  ghetto. The soldiers of course wanted nothing to do with the dog  and the barking covered the kids/infants noises.. During her time  of doing this, she managed to smuggle out and save 2500  kids/infants. She was caught, and the Nazi’s broke both her legs,  arms and beat her severely. Irena kept a record of the names of  all the kids she smuggled out and kept them in a glass jar, buried  under a tree in her back yard. After the war, she tried to locate  any parents that may have survived it and reunited the family.  Most had been gassed. Those kids she helped got placed into foster  family homes or adopted.

Last year  Irena was up for the Nobel Peace Prize …. She was not  selected. Al Gore won, for a slide show on Global  Warming. 

It is now more than  60 years after the Second World War in Europe ended. This e-mail is being sent as a  memorial chain, in memory of the six million Jews, 20 million  Russians, 10 million Christians and 1,900 Catholic priests who  were murdered, massacred, raped, burned, starved and  humiliated!

You can read more about Irena Sendler on Wikipedia, a site titled Holocaust: Crimes, Heros and Villains, and Life in a Jar: The Irena Sendler Project. Reading more about her, it is impossible not to be touched by her strength and courage. And yet, she was such a humble person. Before her death, she was honoured at a ceremony in 2007. She was too frail to attend, but she sent a letter. This passage, quoted in the United Kingdom’s newspaper the Telegraph, stuck me most:

“Every child saved with my help is the justification of my existence on this Earth, and not a title to glory.” — Irena Sendler

The title of her poster reads: “Oil Spill: Sea Animal Nightmare”

And the captions read:

• The oil blocks the whale’s blowhole
• Air bubbles in sea otter’s fur damaged by oil
• Fish gills clogged with oil
• Oil makes bird cold and sick
• Oil makes plankton toxic
• Crab eats things bathed in oil
• Shellfish suck in toxic water

*sigh*

Stop #2: GCTC (Great Canadian Theatre Company)
Where: 300-1227 Wellington St. W. (Parkdale market area of Ottawa)
What: A play called Airport Security, by Gruppo Rubato, which is a small theatre company that creates and presents work by Ottawa artists. We found ourselves in an intimate studio with a basic, but innovative set. And we had so many good laughs! (If I can find the time, I promise to do a whole post just on this.)
Cost: $25 / $20 student price. (Disclosure: I received 2 complimentary no-strings-attached tickets)
Conclusion: Highly recommended!

Stop #3:  Black Dog Cafe
Where: 5540 Main Street (Manotick suburb of Ottawa)
What: Appletini and Flirtini with a shared dessert of Triple Chocolate Fantasy
Cost: I have no idea (Disclosure: My Mom treated me to this!)
Conclusion: Highly recommended!

Here I am with Joanne Harris, author of one of my favourite books Five Quarters of the Orange but most famously known for her novel Chocolat, which was made into the Oscar-nominated film with Johnny Depp and Juliette Binoche. I recently had the chance to hear her read from her latest offering blueeyedboy when she came to Ottawa as a guest for Writers Fest. She was part of a series of events that Writers Fest puts on called The Writing Life.

As for me, I don’t think I have what it takes to be a novelist, but I like to lurk around these kinds of events and imagine that it’s possible. And I’m sharing my thoughts on this today at Life As A Human.

Please click here to read them and let me know what you think makes a novelist, a novelist.

This photo was generously taken and shared with me by a local photographer at the event. His name is John W MacDonald and you can check out his work here.

When I first started blogging one year ago, I didn’t — and couldn’t — have known what to expect. But BOLO left me feeling very optimistic about it all.

It seems that blogging is one of those things that, like becoming a parent, you just have to do it order to really understand it. And although I have a much better understanding now than I did one year ago, I still have so much learning to do. (Again, just like parenting!)

It seems apt then that I am now reading a novel that is written as a series of blog entries. Other authors have done this in a more fun and light-hearted way, like Kathy Buckworth’s novel The BlackBerry Diaires, but this book, blueeyedboyby Joanne Harris is quite the contrary. Here is how the protagonist, blueeyedboy, describes the WebJournal that he participates in:

On WeJay I can vent as I please, confess without fear of censure; be myself — or indeed, someone else — in a world where no one is quite what they seem, and where every member of every tribe is free to do what they most desire.

Tribe? Yes, everyone here has a tribe; each with its divisions and subdivisions, binary veins and capillaries branching out into a near-infinity of permutations as they distance themselves from the mainstream.

Although dark, this description isn’t exactly in-accurate. We all know there are some seedy sides to the internet. Perhaps naively, I do like to believe that there are more positive than negative sides to engaging on the internet. I have to admit that I’ve stumbled once or twice though. I’ve tried to join in on some ”tribes” and found that my voice is simply not welcomed in that community or on that specific blog. But I think I’ve concluded that those particular tribes exist to preach to the converted, not to engage with others outside of their tribe. It’s been a learning experience.

And that’s okay, because I am learning.

I’m learning that writing for myself (not just for my clients) gives me a really enjoyable feeling of satisfaction. Almost a high. And that the more often that I write, the easier it is to write. I think what I’m finding out about the act of blogging and being part of a blogging community has been best described recently by Christine on Coffees and Commutes in her post “Blogging: Conversations in Happiness and More“:

And that’s what comes from this place, a renewed desire to discuss issues, to think and write about life, and the things that make me happy and unhappy. Perhaps a luxury, but one I craved. I needed an outlet where I could connect with like-minded women who think and worry about the same things. I can see the future, the places this might take me and it excites me. As long as I stay true to what this is, focus on the writing, the connections and less on the hype.

Christine does describes a “tribe” of sorts – like-minded women who think and worry about the same things. But unlike blueeyedboy, there is no artifice. No pseudonym, no desire to actually distance herself from society. That feels right to me. And I like feeling like I belong in her tribe.

I hope that I can offer a similar experience here on my blog. I want this to be a place where you can sit and have a coffee break during work or a child’s nap (or simply to join me in procrastinating from doing the laundry!). A place where you can feel free to join in the conversation and share your point of view.

So far, I think it’s working out that way. (Do you?) And that makes me happy. Happy bloggy-versary!

And happy bloggy-versary to everyone of you who has stopped by to have a coffee and maybe even leave a comment or two. I’m grateful for the company and  I look forward to another year of the same!

One of the first things I learned is that Ottawa has a campground smack in the middle of the suburbs, and this is where the festival was held.  It’s a really nice campground too! Each site is surrounded by trees to provide privacy, and there are public washroom blocks and a playground area for children. So if you have out-of-town friends stopping in to see you while they’re on a road trip this summer, this is definitely an affordable option.

The next thing I learned is that “Odawa” is “Ottawa” in native language and that there is also an Ottawa tribe. According to the Native Languages of America website,  the Ottawa tribe is generally considered to be an offshoot of the Ojibwe tribe and that today, there are 15,000 Ottawas living in Michigan, Ontario, and Oklahoma. The Canadian Encyclopedia site, however, notes “that because the Ottawa tended to settle in mixed communities, it is difficult to state population figures. Many Ottawa descendants are identified as Ojibwa or Potawatomi.”

A young Odawa Festival attendee meets a new friend from one of the craft stalls.

In speaking with some of the people who had booths at the festival, we were surprised to learn that some had travelled from as far Manitoulin Island, Northern Ontario.  But this information, also from the Canadian Encyclopedia site, provided some clarity for me:

Ottawa (or Odawa) were an Algonquian-speaking people living north of the Huron people at the time of French penetration to the Upper Great Lakes. A tradition of the Ottawa, shared by the Ojibwa and Potawatomi, states that these 3 groups were once one people.

The Ottawa were closely tied to their Huron neighbours and, in fact, were a vital part of the so-called “Huron Trading Empire.” When Huronia was destroyed by the Iroquois in the mid-17th century, the Ottawa fled west. After 2 decades they were back on Manitoulin Island, but they continued to occupy settlements elsewhere on the shores of the Great Lakes.

I also figured out why I heard many people speaking French and why so many of the food tents offered poutine (my fave food!) in addition to fare considered more traditional such as buffalo and moose meat:

They located their principal settlements near the French fort at Michilimackinac, though many migrated to the Detroit area when the French built a fort there in 1701. During the final struggle for northeastern North America, the Ottawa supported the French.

The Pow Wow is the big draw forthe Odawa Festival, which is hosted by the Odawa Native Friendship Centre to celebrate Aboriginal culture (including Metis and Inuit). In my experience, the word “pow wow” is often used interchangeably in English as “meeting,” but the more comprehensive definition of a Pow Wow is a  event where both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal North-American people meet to dance, sing, socialize, and honor the Aboriginal culture.

This Wikipedia entry describes what takes place at the opening of a Pow Wow:

A pow-wow session begins with the Grand Entry and, in most cases, a prayer. The Eagle Staff leads the Grand Entry, followed by flags, then the dancers, while one of the host drums sings an opening song. This event is sacred in nature, some pow-wows do not allow filming or photography during this time, though others allow it.

If military veterans or active duty soldiers are present, they often carry the flags and eagle staffs. They are followed by the head dancers, then the remaining dancers usually enter the arena in a specific order: Men’s Traditional, Men’s Grass Dance, Men’s Fancy, Women’s Traditional, Women’s Jingle, and Women’s Fancy. Teens and small children then follow in the same order.

And this is exactly what happened at the Odawa Festival when we were there. The music for Pow Wow is provided by a group of performers who play large, specially designed drums made from moose raw-hide and sing traditional songs. The number of players on one drum may vary, but is usually at least four people. For me, this combination of beautiful, colourful costumes with drum beat is irresistibly captivating.

Yet, somehow, the children in our crew did not feel the same. They were extremely eager to continue exploring all of the craft tents. And really, it was hard to blame them.

The crafts on display included jewelry, dreamcatchers, drums and artwork.

Many thanks to the Odawa Native Friendship Centre and everyone we had a chance to meet and speak with for a WONDERFUL afternoon!  

Photo credits: The two images of dances are courtesy of the Odawa Native Friendship Centre website.

We’ve had some really horrific and tragic bike accidents in our city as of late.

People have always commuted to work by bike in Ottawa, Canada’s capital. In fact, I distinctly remember my father biking to work every day from our family’s westend home in the suburbs to downtown.

But, now more than ever, we need more cyclists. The environment needs it, our bodies need it, and our children need the role-modelling.

Unfortunately, our city has a lot of work to do before it can be considered cyclist-friendly. In fact, it’s down-right dangerous to even attempt to bike in certain areas of the city. And many cycling enthusiasts, quite rightly, note that motorists are a big part of the problem.

As for me, I haven’t ridden a bike since I was a kid. And even then, it was only around the block.

My seven-year-old daughter, though, just learned how to bike this season on her two-wheeler. And wow! Kids sure learn fast. She has really mastered the skill so quickly. So much so that she has been asking to bike to school now. Despite the hyper-parenting that is a bit pervasive these days, our neighbourhood does have quite a few kids who regularly commute to school on bikes.  Which I think is wonderful.

Stella is a bit young to be commuting on her though. So I have been contemplating a bike purchase. Mostly, I’m tempted by the retro bikes with their fun styling and cute baskets on the front. (It’s all about packaging, isn’t it?) They’re not exactly cheap though and I’d hate for the purchase price to end up being used as much as my gym membership (ahem, that is, not much).

Luck shone on us about a week ago with a bike sitting on the edge of the street with a “free” sign. Sure, it doesn’t have a cute banana seat or even any cute paint colours, but it works just fine.

So twice a week now, I’ve been biking in with Stella to school and then I bike back home and do the same at the end of the day. For me, it’s some fresh air. For her, she escapes the dreaded bus ride in the heat.

The kids we see biking along the way all look like proficient bikers. And although they are dutifully wearing their helmets, I fear for their safety.

Why? Well, it seems that they have no clue what the rules of the road are. I have yet to see one of these children use a hand signal and most cross over a road without even turning over their shoulder to check for cars.

If we want to encourage a future generation of happy cycling commuters, it’s going to take more than just a widening of roads and an awareness campaign directed at motorists. We need to make sure that, as cyclists, we’re doing our part to be good citizens of the road.

With this in mind then, I’d like to share some resources for bike safety. If you’re like me, biking was from when you had a pig-tails, so who couldn’t use a little refresher for sharing with their children?

First of all, cyclists need to follow the rules of the road.

I like Ken Kifer’s site because he provides information without fear-mongering about the dangers of cycling. He notes that most of the collisions involving bicycles occurred because the bike rider did not follow the traffic laws for vehicles. On this page, he provides advice for teaching children the rules according to their age. I thought it was quite helpful.  

This Young Cyclist’s Guide on the Ontario Transportationwebsite runs through all the safety rules and even provides quizzes for your child to complete.

And just as we expect a car to signal, bikers must also use signals. Here are the hand signals for RIGHT TURN, LEFT TURN, and STOP.

So, let’s not keep our kids locked up in our back yards. Let’s let them have some fun — but prepare them and keep them them safe! Happy biking to all!

Do you let your children bike to school alone? What about around the neighbourhood? Have you had to brake quickly to avoid a child cutting in front of you on their bike?

If you enjoyed this post, please consider giving me your vote! I’m a finalist in the Scholastic Parent and Child 2010 Blogger Awards!