Ode to Ice and the Perseverance of Canadians

Suspended in my glass, your coolness is sweet
But I fall on my a$$ when you're under my feet
My hand reaches out, but the rail is too far
How on earth will I get to my car?

I arrive at my car without breaking a bone
The doors are all frozen and I've dropped my cell phone
Carefully I stoop to pick it up quick
Balance is precarious on this sheet so slick.

With cell phone in pocket, ready to dial
I set out to proceed with the ice-picking trial
I scrape and I brush and remove all the slush
And wonder if winter can just leave in a rush?

So far no need for emergency assistance
I climb in, turn the key and sigh at the distance
From here to there where I need to go
Why couldn't this storm bring falling snow?

I sigh and press on the gas with great care
Hoping this trip will end without flair
And think once again about this great nation
And the miracle that it has a population.

You see, were it me, I'd run for the hills
To some other place where I get fewer chills
Alas, I'm committed and stuck with the ice
Thankfully, my loved ones make it quite nice.

Day 14 - A hero that has let you down.

Photo Credit: Kym Shumsky (Relishing.ca)When I was younger, I was fascinated by made-for-TV movies. There was the one about the brain transplant patient who gets the brain of a tall, svelt, beautiful woman and is confused when she looks in the mirror to see someone fairly average when she expects to see a very different picture.

Then there was the one with the identical twin sisters (played by the same actress, of course). One twin fakes her death and then comes back to impersonate her sister and steal her husband - or something like that. I don’t think I was supposed to be watching that one.

The melodrama in the fictional movies would likely have me splitting my sides laughing these days. (You have to admit the brain transplant one was priceless.) As I got older, and we got cable, I got to see them all on repeat on Lifetime. Made-for-TV movies are great late-night entertainment. (Trust me on this.)

Then there were the movie accounts of real-life people. Fictionalized biographies, I suppose. All of them had plenty of melodrama (or they wouldn’t make the cut on Lifetime). There was one fictionalized biography that affected me pretty deeply. The Karen Carpenter Story aired on CBS in 1989 and I remember my reaction to it as if it was yesterday. And let me just say from the start that I get way too invested in stories like this.

I had some knowledge of The Carpenters’ music before watching this movie. My parents owned several LPs and I listened to them along with The Kingston Trio, Peter, Paul and Mary, and (my personal favorite) Simon and Garfunkel fairly regularly. 

Listening to Karen Carpenter sing was intoxicating. I wanted to be her. She was the first really cool person to share my name and that was pretty exciting.

Until I watched her story.

I got angry when I realized what she did to herself. How could she DO that to herself!? Why didn’t she see how amazing she was and take care of herself? I was only 11 and I didn’t realize how troubled she was. It was years before I was able to listen to her music. I don’t think I had a full awareness of her death before watching the movie.

I’m well aware now (though I wasn’t back then) that the movie doesn’t accurately portray her life and death, but I am still amazed at the disappointment I felt over the fictionalized account of Karen Carpenter’s existence.

Image Source: Facebook | Lost PinupThat kind of childhood disappointment looks very different as you get older and change the lens through which you see the circumstances. I no longer feel the anger and dismay that I remember so well from over 20 years ago. I don’t feel let-down either. But it is terribly sad that Karen Carpenter died so tragically.

I think it’s terribly sad that any person (particularly the female gender) gets to the point that they abuse their body to fulfill an impossible image that is, frankly, not even that attractive.

Formula marketing practices are wrong - no need to take sides

Recently, someone I know said something to me about hating formula.

Really? Why?

Formula is an inanimate object. A food. It keeps many babies alive. Including this one:

Yes, my son was formula-fed and it was pretty much our only option for feeding him. I never planned to use formula. We had to buy bottles and formula on the way home from the hospital, in fact. My mother used to share stories of how special she felt her time breastfeeding was and I wanted that too. However, less than a week before Brandon’s birth I was told by a nurse/lactation consultant in my pre-op appointment that having PCOS could mean I’d have problems with low supply.

This is why the “I hate formula” attitude rubs me the wrong way - it feels so superior. I’m tired of the formula feeders versus breast feeders debate. As someone who had no option other than to give my child formula, it’s deeply disturbing to me to see the comments that some women make about moms who feed their children formula and the risks expose their children to for “convenience”. (Sorry, paying $30 a can wasn’t at all convenient!)

For well over a year of Brandon’s life, I didn’t know that there was a boycott of Nestle products that had been (and still is) going on for decades. I only found out when I saw this post go up in September 2009 and watched the flurry of tweets, comments and commentaries. Back then, I didn’t really understand the issue and it prompted a lot of questions - many that had to do with some of the things that were being said by some of the more militant supporters of the boycott - particularly when people like me raised questions. Fortunately, in addition to Annie, there are many cooler heads who will answer questions and concerns with patience.

Even after reading post after post about this issue on Annie’s blog for nearly two years, I still couldn’t bring myself to fully embrace the boycott. Though I used Nestle formula only once - when the grocery store didn’t have our regular brand - I still had the overwhelming feeling that this was a formula feeders versus breast feeders issue and I didn’t want any part of that. It was just too emotional for me, given that breastfeeding wasn’t even an option for me. I didn’t want to feel like an inferior mother.

When Annie wrote this post last fall - Is shame a barrier to social change? - it changed my view completely (and immediately). I knew I needed to read carefully after the first paragraph:

I’ve had a lot of interesting conversations over the past few days about shame, guilt, and social change. Without going into excruciating detail, I heard a lot of people say that calls for formula marketing to be restricted makes formula feeding moms feel shamed because if formula marketing needs to be restricted, then that means that formula is bad, which means that formula feeding moms are doing something wrong.

I can hardly begin to tell you how well I identify with this line of thinking. It’s how I felt for nearly 2 years.

Annie goes on to say:

We live in an imperfect world. We all make choices, on a daily basis, with imperfect information and in imperfect conditions. Every single day, I make choices that I wish I didn’t have to make. Every single day, I try to make better choices. It is a balancing act between progress and reality. No one is perfect. No one should be expected to be perfect. No one needs to feel guilt or shame for being imperfect.

So, here’s the revelation that I had when I read Annie’s post about shame being a barrier:

PhD in Parenting | Why I Protest Nestlé’s Unethical Business PracticesFORMULA isn’t bad. It isn’t the evil culprit it gets made out to be in so many posts that are advocating for better breastfeeding support or boycotts against Nestle for its marketing practices (usually in the comments - that’s where it can get really ugly).

Is formula the best thing to give your child? No - we can all agree on that and set aside the whole “breast is best” argument.

BUT I did what I had to do to keep my son alive, healthy and growing. Just like every other mother out there, I want what’s best for him. I want what’s healthy for him. In our circumstances, that turned out to be food from a can, whether I liked it or not. I felt a lot of guilt and shame for a long time after Brandon’s birth. He’ll be four years old this year and I still have trouble accepting what occurred.

My hope is that more breastfeeding advocates and formula marketing critics will use greater care in how they get the message out about their cause - much like Annie and Amber (and I’m sure many others as well). Hearing that breast milk is best for a child isn’t objectionable. Having the worst-case scenarios (low IQ, obesity, death, etc.) of feeding a child formula is highly objectionable. It also muddies the issues around formula marketing and leads to the question: Is formula bad or are the formula marketing practices unethical?

It has taken me over two years to get past the inner conflict of being a formula feeder to see that boycotting Nestle doesn’t mean I’m condemning my own actions.

Day 13 - A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough days. (write a letter.)

Photo Credit: Kym Shumsky (Relishing.ca)It’s been over a year since I started this meme and I’m not even halfway through. Partially because I decided I was going to do as I was inspired to and I think that’s okay. The other part is because there are many prompts after the first few that I’m just not that into.

I can’t tell you why this particular prompt isn’t inspiring me. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel like writing a letter. I don’t. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to detail the tough days. Definitely don’t. The problem isn’t that I don’t have a deep connection to music (at times) that helps me get through my own emotions. I definitely do.

Maybe it’s a fear of vulnerability. Tough times in life that you remember through music can be hard to dredge up. Putting those times out there in a blog post for the world to see allows people to come in to a place I’m not sure I want to invite people.

What if they don’t like the band I mention?

What if the songs that touched me are songs they hate?

What if I can’t handle sharing that part of my self?

My likes and dislikes in music are very personal. I can take teasing about liking certain groups, but one that is connected to an emotional event isn’t something I want to take a chance on. Not now.

So, I’ll share a song that got me through the waiting to move to Canada - a song that Matt (ironically) cannot stand. :) Those were tough days for more reasons than just the pending move. But every time I listened to this CD and heard this song, I danced around my house doing housework, nodding my agreement. I knew it was time to go, but I was truly “weighed by the chains that keep me hangin’ around” (mainly the lack of a permanent resident visa):

Do you have a song that got you through a tough time? Does it feel too personal to share?

Day 26 - Music is Powerful (#reverb11)

Music is powerful - Think of one song that you turn to time and again, and describe why it’s important to you.  - Think of one song that you turn to time and again, and describe why it’s important to you.

 *****

I used to think that music was my passion. I believed that it was with such intensity that I embarked on a music education degree that was misguided but taught me a lot about myself. The first and foremost being that I am not a musician in the artistry sense of the word. I am somewhat technically proficient (or once was), but not nearly good enough to teach others music.

There’s never been any one song I’ve turned to in my entire life to fill an emotional need. For a lot of years I couldn’t have even pinpointed a particular band or artist that was a favorite. I can now. From the first time I heard Yellow and with each successive release, so much of Coldplay’s music speaks to me in a very personal way, but there is still no one song that stands out above all the others. They are the only band whose albums I buy every time they release a new one.

I am a music lover. I appreciate the message, the medium, the universality of its reach. Maybe that’s why narrowing down to one song is so hard. It’s taken my 34 years to identify a favorite band. Maybe in another 34 years I can figure out a song to answer this prompt with.