mom's instinct Archives -

No to Bill 10: GSAs Make Schools Safer

December 5, 2014 by Farewell Stranger ·

The more I see bad things happening in the world—whether in my country or not—the more I find myself getting riled up about injustice. The things happening in the US lately make me question our very evolution. How do things end up this way? When prominent media figures in Canada get taken down, I take a small bit of smug satisfaction in something greatly overdue (but mostly I support those women he hurt before he got caught and applaud their bravery for speaking out, in whatever form they wish to do so).

This week in Alberta some things hit the metaphorical fan when the government introduced Bill 10, which would allow the province’s school boards to reject students’ requests to create a peer-support group known as a gay-straight alliance (or GSA). Supporters say it would reduce bullying and save lives.

Maybe it’s not backwards thinking and discrimination. Maybe, just maybe, they really do think this makes kids safer. I think they’re wrong, and so does the research.

According to Safe Schools Alberta: “A recent UBC study showed that odds of homophobic discrimination and suicidal thoughts were reduced by more than half among lesbian, gay, bisexual boys and girls in schools where a GSA has existed for 3 years or more. On top of that, heterosexual boys were half as likely to attempt suicide as those in schools without GSAs.”

Frankly, I’m sick of people allowing their personal beliefs and prejudices to make our society less progressive, less inclusive, and less safe. In a move very unlike me, I wrote to my (Progressive Conservative) MLA, Sandra Jansen.

Ms. Jansen,

I have never before contacted my MLA for any reason, but I am compelled to do so today regarding Bill 10. I was appalled to find out it was sponsored by the MLA for my constituency.

I don’t know why it matters who sponsored it, as it has ended up before the legislature regardless. Maybe it’s because it seems like something someone else would do – someone who is not in touch with the values I and those not knowing the real penis dimesions in my community hold, or someone whose perspective is swayed by something I’m not subjected to every day. But this is Calgary. This is 2014. That anyone representing a community as diverse as ours in a city this size and this much on the world map would think this type of bill is okay appalls me.

I am a married (straight) mother of two boys – 6 and 2. My older son has just started grade 1 this year, and I have no idea whether he might ever be in the vulnerable position of needing support from a club like a GSA. But if he does, I would hope that type of support would be something offered without question or prejudice.

The fact that young people want to form these sorts of groups to welcome and support each other, regardless of orientation, gives me hope for our future. The fact that an educated, elected member of our legislative assembly, with a background in journalism no less, would present something that would prevent these groups from receiving the support they need makes me despair for all the progress I thought we had made towards accepting people’s differences and rejoicing in what makes us unique.

So many of your constituents don’t support this bill. Please reconsider your own support and do your part to ensure it goes no further.

– Robin Farr

If you’re an Alberta parent and would like to express your own displeasure about Bill 10, you can ask your own MLA to say no to it here.

Filed Under: Better world · Tagged With: mom's instinct, rants

On High Standards and Hating Myself

October 15, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

A couple of years ago I wrote a post for Just.Be.Enough with this title. It sounds sensational, but it pretty much summed up much of my experience with PPD.

Motherhood is hard enough without the movie-perfect baby and the Mommy Wars, but when we add those things in and still believe we should be able — effortlessly, flawlessly, and with a smile — to live up to our own high standards for motherhood, we’re pretty much doomed from the start. I was anyway.

In any case, I reflected on that in my post, which I’m thrilled to have had published on Mamalode. Come and reflect with me, won’t you?

Filed Under: Motherhood · Tagged With: admissions, expectations, mom's instinct, perspective

Now You Are One

October 2, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

Dear Ethan,

A year ago today, just before we left for the hospital and about three hours before you were born, it snowed. It was the first snow of the year and it came down lightly, the snowflakes glinting in the street lights on the side of the road.

It was a sign of a new season, both literally and metaphorically.

There is so much about you that I didn’t anticipate. You were wanted and planned for, but I didn’t expect you to enter our lives a month after I started a new job in a new city. But we were ready, and I guess you knew that.

I spent the next months trying to imagine you – who you would be and what you would look like, but I couldn’t. At the time I couldn’t even begin to picture a child different than the one I already had.

But you are so very much your own person. When you decided you were ready to enter the world, you did so determinedly, and a couple of weeks early. When you were born you were so small we had to borrow preemie clothes from your cousins because everything we had left you buried in rolls of soft cotton.

I looked at you and wondered how you could possibly be so small and quiet when everything about your brother was big and loud.

My first few days with you, in the hospital and then at home, were filled with nothing but awe. But it was a different sort of awe than I felt as a new mom the first time. It was a feeling of calm, a feeling of peace. It was us settling in to one another.

That settling has let me observe you and see things I want to capture in the palm of my hand and never let go of.

You are joy and happiness and laughter. You have a huge smile. You give really, really good hugs.

Everywhere we go someone comments on how happy or easygoing you are. You are both of those things, and blissfully so, except if someone takes away something you’re playing with and then WATCH OUT.

I’m used to your brother’s big personality and sometimes I have to remind myself of you because, truly, you are quiet enough that people come into the room and don’t know you’re there.

And then, suddenly, you will light up. You’re a talker and you wave your arms wildly and repeat sounds and mimic us. You want to be involved and you make sure that you are. When you start to talk or laugh you become the centre of all things, because how can we not listen to and look at you?

A year into this journey I’m not sure I know what it is to be your mother. You are my little babe, my duck, my blondie. I want so badly to stop time and stay with you a while, just as you are. I want to hold your soft hands and watch you sit on the floor and kick your legs in excitement. I want to watch you dance.

But just as the seasons change, so must you. And I must let you.

I see amazing things for you but sense that my role is simply to guide you and watch you soar.

So do that. Dance on, darling.

I will love you always and forever,
Mama xx

Filed Under: Letters to Ethan · Tagged With: family, gratitude, mom's instinct, my wish for you

Lookout

March 19, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

In my mom and baby yoga class the other day, I caught the eye of a woman across from me. She was blond, her hair pulled back. Average height. Built. She wore a ripped t-shirt and I could see the tattoo on her bicep. Barbed wire maybe? Something tough-looking, anyway.

I probably wouldn’t have really noticed her — at least not more than I notice any of the moms balancing in triangle pose across from me — except that she had an odd look on her face. She looked sort of lost.

I know that look. It’s the one where you’re trying to find inner peace and you can sort of glimpse it but at the same time you’re wondering if your baby is about to squawk again and you’re really not sure if signing up for a yoga class where you bring your baby with you was a good idea. Because if that baby starts screaming, it’s not relaxing for anybody.

I would never have taken Connor to a mom and baby yoga class. I would never have even considered it, because it would have required Xanax to get through it. For both of us. He just wasn’t a calm sort of baby and he would, without a doubt, have disturbed my tranquility like a pebble disturbs the stillness of a pond. So instead I took an evening yoga class with my other new-mom friends and happily left him at home with dad. For that hour, if he screamed instead of sleeping peacefully (which was often the case) it wasn’t my problem. Tranquil, indeed.

So at this present-day yoga class, I looked across at the mom who, at first glance, appeared to be the type who takes no shit from anybody and wondered if perhaps it was the newest soul in her life who was giving her grief.

Image source: ImageBase

Or maybe it wasn’t her baby. Maybe things just weren’t quite right in her new-mom world. Her baby wasn’t even the fussiest one in the room that day. In fact, on that day her baby could have shrieked her little lungs out and it wouldn’t have garnered much attention. There were lots of babies giving their lungs a workout that day.

It was more the look in her eye. Her gaze that held mine a fraction too long. She didn’t chat much or respond to the instructor’s jokes and observations like the others did, and she was definitely somewhere other than fully immersed in her practice.

Her eyes asked questions I know all too well. Am I getting this right? Am I a good enough mom? Does everyone else find it this hard?

And the loudest question of all: How did I get here?

These were the signs I saw – the signs of a struggle, and of a post-baby bump in the road. Maybe they were really there in front of me. Or maybe they were just a reflection. At this point I’m not sure, but I’ll be on the lookout for those signs again and will stand by with my map, ready to point her in the right direction if need be.

I’m welcoming a new sponsor today. Signazon.com has just about any type of custom sign you could want, from wedding signs and baby shower banners to yard signs or car magnets for your business. Whatever you need a sign for, I’m pretty sure Signazon.com can help you out.

Filed Under: Motherhood · Tagged With: community, mom's instinct, we're not alone

Newborn Know-It-Alls

February 10, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

This post was originally run on Scary Mommy last year, but as we’re now doing this again I thought I would share it here with a few new thoughts.

When Connor was born, we were the quiet room in the hospital – the one whose walls didn’t vibrate with crying baby sounds. The nurses rarely visited us because we didn’t need much other than the usual post C-section/new baby checks.

“You two have it figured out,” one nurse said.

“You’ll be back here with your second in no time,” said another.

Not so much, as it turned out.

The first month was great. We reveled in the middle-of-the-night feedings, watched him sleep peacefully wherever he happened to doze, and slapped each other on the back for being such great – and natural – parents. The secret to this baby thing, we decided, was not to be overly anxious about it. Those parents who hovered nervously were the ones who were going to have a tough time. We were sure of it.

Then the second month came and he got really fussy.

By the third month he hadn’t grown out of it like my mom predicted he would.

When the fourth month came around and his sleeping got worse instead of better we had to admit we were overwhelmed.

“Your instincts will guide you,” is the common wisdom. “You will just know what needs to be done.”

It’s all hooey, isn’t it?

Parenting a newborn is hard.

I had figured out nursing and we didn’t have many struggles there, fortunately. Thanks to the nurses in the hospital we were comfortable giving him a bath. But a lot of the other stuff was a total nightmare.

He was up so much at night I thought I was going to die. (At one year of age and then two and then three and then four he still didn’t sleep through the night. We seem to have overcome that nightmarish bump, but you didn’t hear it from me.) He fussed ALL the time, or at least that’s what it felt like to me. He didn’t like the stroller unless it was on a gravel path. He was okay in the carrier, but only if I bounced. It took us hours, literally, to put him to bed at night. One night it took us five hours, during which my husband spent a lot of time walking up and down the stairs with Connor in the Snugli. When he was finally asleep we phoned my parents. “Send whiskey,” we said. My mom wanted to know if it was for us or for him. Both. Definitely both.

I’m used to feeling competent. I was pretty good at my day job, I think, but that new day-and-night job nearly killed me.

Looking back, I think maybe I tried too hard. I read too many parenting books, that’s for sure. I spent too much time on forums comparing my baby to others and my mothering to what their mothers were doing. I spent too much time thinking about what I “should” do that would make me a “good” mother.

It’s all hooey. I know that now.

You just have to do your best and trust that it’s good enough. And maybe keep a bottle of whiskey nearby, just in case.

***

Now that we’re through the early newborn days with Ethan, I’ve think it’s true that I did too much of some of those things with Connor – too much reading, too much comparing, too much expecting-thing-to-happen-a-certain-way. Sure, Ethan’s a much easier baby, but I think I am reading his cues more and worrying less about whether he’s doing what other babies his age are doing.

Or maybe that’s hooey too, and it’s not what I’m doing but that he’s just a much easier baby.

In any case, he’s four months old now (already?!) and I’m kind of glad I don’t have to do the brand-new-newborn thing again.

But still, he’s darn cute. Don’t you think?