Stuff I Found on the Internet.

Just some stuff to share with you all in case you haven't seen it.

The first is a funny video from Story of This Life that features a toddler helping Mom out during the day and really shows why it now takes me twice as long to get the same amount of stuff done as it used to. Of course because I work full time but still like a clean house this is all compacted into the evenings.



OK the kid in this video is way younger than Babe. Should I be concerned that she still does ninety per cent of this crap? Of course she no longer sits in a highchair but the dishwasher, the laundry folding, the drier, the windows...that's all the same three years in. The dryer scene especially really spoke to me. Babe loves to help to put the laundry in the washer and dryer, but she is so over eager to get the job done that she is constantly throwing the colours in the whites as fast as I can pull them back out and closing the dryer door every time I turn around to get more wet clothes. I guess her helping around the house is a work in progress.

She also likes to help fold the laundry. Of course, her idea of helping fold the laundry is to pull all the already clean and folded face cloths out of the closet, unfold them all and throw them on the floor and then re-fold them all. See exhibit A titled "The Face Cloth Train" below.

The second is also a video by Story of This Life which features the cliche clean freak mom and the cliche laid back mom.



I'm definitely the laid back mom according to this video. Babe eats stuff that falls on the floor, climbs all over the playground with minimal supervision and I don't think I've ever cleaned off a public high chair in my life - unless there was a glaring booger on it. Even then my go-to approach would likely be to flick it off with a stir stick.

The video is a funny little clip although I do think it kind of paints the germaphobic mother in a more negative light. Certainly the laid back mom would be more likely to be a second or third time mother in most cases. I'm of course a first time mom but because I nannied for so many little ones I guess the over-protective impulse kind of wore off. I simply can't be bothered to disinfect everything or shadow Babe's every movement and ultimately I don't think it is healthy for Babe. Of course we do end up suffering through our fair share of sicknesses, which always sucks. Currently Hand, Foot and Mouth disease is going around Babe's preschool. My attempts to prevent Babe from getting this pain-in-my-ass disease was to instruct my three-year-old to not put stuff from school in her mouth.

And to avoid the inevitable head lice infestation I have told her not to wear other kid's hats or hair bands. I'm not an idiot, I don't have expectations that my toddler will listen to my warnings and diligently remember to follow my advice...but so far, passing the responsibility onto her seems to be the extent of what I'm prepared to do to avoid these ailments. Short of keeping her out of school or away from other kids in general I'm not sure what else I realistically can do.

But there's no way she will remember my warnings and I fully expect to be hit with festering mouth sores and itchy scalps any day now. And yes, I will complain about it despite my lack of prevention techniques.

Now something a little more serious.

I read this opinion article last month and haven't had a chance to share it until now. I think it is really interesting and touched on a lot of the same things that I feel about raising children without religion.

Read it HERE.

Seriously, GO. Read it. It'll either speak to you or really piss you off, either way it'll kill five minutes. Then you can come back here and agree with me or get pissed off again.

I've thought and thought about what to say about the topic here which is probably why it took me so long to finally post it. I have strong beliefs on this in line with the LA Times article but I realize other people have strong beliefs the other way and some of those people matter to me. So for now I have decided not to say too much and to simply share the article for anyone who is interested.

I will say that my hackles do get up at any suggestion that simply because my daughter isn't being raised with devotion to a specific faith she will somehow lack a moral compass or always feel empty without His love. I am not religious but I am certainly spiritual and curious. I don't feel alone or lost without a designated faith and I don't believe my daughter will either. I do see the value of emotional security, structure and moral guidance in religion, I can see how it can give someone a sense of purpose and belonging. However I don't believe children raised without it can't have the same. We do however discuss the possibility of God and the vastness of the universe and the idea that our loved ones who have passed may be somewhere better or may have started again as babies. And for now she does seem to enjoy saying prayers at night and thinking up things to say thank you for which I see nothing but benefit in doing.

Some of you might remember a post I did back before we moved up North when I took Babe on a tour of various religious facilities in Richmond, it was an awesome day and we will do it again when she is a bit older. I recommend everyone go. I see it as my job as her parent to expose her to as much as I can. Give her as much information as I can. Have her meet as many types of people as I can. So that when she is grown she will be open-minded. Curious. A free-thinker. Thirsty to learn. Able to adapt. And accepting of others not like her. Then hopefully she will be able to make choices about the person she wants to be and what she wants to believe without feeling like she will be a disappointment to her family for following her heart. But even without the guidance of God she is still being taught every day to have strong ethics, to stand up for what she believes is right, to weigh information and the views of others, to do the right thing, to be grateful every day for her blessings, to make a positive impact on her world and that there are consequences for her actions here and now.

OK. I'll drop it for now. But there's no promises that I won't go into more detail at a later date if I feel that I am being respectful. With the stuff going on around the world with the fighting between various religious groups over everything from terrorism to women's rights to medical procedures and parenthood it's a topic I, like many other parents feel strongly about.

Hold onto your boots because I'm also considering how to comment on the great vaccination debate which appears to be really amping up this year.

PS.

Awesome Mother Moment of the Day:

It took me until 4:30 pm at work to remember that Babe put stickers on my back when I was getting dressed this morning. Perfect.

The Heart of a Two Year Old.

Well, the novelty of Mommy's sadness has worn off for Babe but I wanted to tell you all briefly about my sweet little girl who came to my aid when she saw her mommy hurting.

I feel terrible for being so depressed in front of her. It's inappropriate and not the kind of mother I want to be, but I guess we all have moments of weakness.

Babe can be a handful for sure. She has a lot of naughty moments and can throw a terrible fit with the best of the two-year-olds. She truly is the little girl with the little curl in the middle of her forehead.

But I have heard on more than one occasion from various caregivers that for her young age she shows remarkable compassion for her peers. Still I have been surprised and touched by her apparent concern for my well being over the past couple weeks. Especially since toddlers aren't known to be especially invested in anyone's happiness but their own.

In the days following my recent break up I could hardly muster the energy to get dressed or leave my bed. Babe and I were alone for the first couple days until my parents arrived (for a coincidentally pre-planned visit) and despite my best efforts to carry on for her, I spent most of that time half-heartedly playing with toys beside her with tears running down my cheeks.

One afternoon, as we were playing on the floor and I was miserably failing at hiding how miserable I was, Babe and I had one of the strongest bonding moments we've had since she stole my life-long teddy bear out of my arms while we slept.

I was sitting on the floor playing with her and doing my best to use my cheerful voice through heaving sobs - as if a normal tone could somehow trick my daughter into not noticing that something was off with Mommy. When all of a sudden she stopped playing and asked me if I was sad. I told her that I was and it was no big deal and gave her a brief explanation at which point, still crying, I expected her to resume our game as if satisfied with knowing 'yup, she's sad.'

But she was intently focused on me, not the toys. Then she told me she would read me a story to make me not be sad anymore.

She ran into her room and came out with her chubby baby arms filled with a sloppy pile of books - dropping them like a trail of breadcrumbs down the hallway as she came to me.

She sat down beside me, chose a book and then proceeded to pretend to read it to me with the pictures facing me like her pre-school teachers would do for the class.

I faked a smile and thanked her but I couldn't stop the crying.

Not discouraged she announced that she would get me some toys and ran back into her bedroom and retrieved some of her most prized possessions.

Again I thanked her and told her that made me happy - still crying.

But I was clearly not OK and instead of becoming frustrated at her failure to make me happy or distracted by the books and toys on the floor, my darling little girl climbed up into the rocking chair that I have comforted her in since the day she was born, turned to me, patted the space beside her little body and said' "It's OK Mommy. Come sit with me and we'll talk about it."

It was the first moment where my heart began to heal a little bit and it was because of a two-year-old. I was so touched by her innocent desire to not see Mommy be sad and her perseverance when her first attempts just weren't good enough to help.

At the same time I felt so terrible for putting her in a place where she had to worry about taking care of her mommy's emotional state.

A few days later it was a friend who suggested I write it down to keep for her for later.

I try not to be one of those my-baby-is-a-genius, braggy parents, but in that moment my two-year-old's capacity for compassion completely overwhelmed me.

I'm so lucky.

And I'm so glad that I have taken the time to recognize her little tragedies, no matter how ridiculous or trivial they seem to adults. Maybe it's just who she is, or maybe trying to understand her feelings even in her fits of toddler-craziness is helping her become a more empathetic child.

A Fun Saturday: Doors Open Richmond.

I'm sorry that I didn't get a chance to blog about this earlier thereby giving any of you who didn't know about the opportunity a better chance to come out this weekend. But I did want to post tonight about the places we went so that if you are inspired you can still come out tomorrow.

This weekend is Doors Open Richmond. An annual festival where many of Richmond B.C.'s cultural and heritage sites are free and open to the public to check out. Please visit the website HERE if you want to see a list of the over 40 places that are participating in this year's event.

There were lots of places that I wanted to check out with Babe but with a little one in tow you really have to limit the amount of time you spend trucking all over the place. So I decided that this year we would visit some of the many houses of worship along Number 5 Road.

I drive past them weekly and I'm always curious about what they look like on the inside and I know that many are open to everyone all the time or at least have visitor hours but I was uncomfortable just showing up so Doors Open Richmond was the perfect opportunity to visit.

We first went to the Thrangu Monastery. We were allowed to take photos inside so that's why I have more from this place. Babe loved it. When we arrived they were in prayer and Babe seemed soothed by the soft, rhythmic chanting. There are 10 monks in residence at the monastery and according to the pamphlet it is the first of its kind in the Pacific Northwest.

Next we went to the Az-Zahraa Islamic Centre where we were greeted by the most well-mannered and eloquent little boy I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. They had a room set up with informative displays on aspects of Muslim faith from art, food and calligraphy to the true meaning of jihad and reasons for the hijab. They also had an tour of the facility which Babe and I only made it partially through because she was determined to run amuck.

After the islamic centre we walked next door to the Gurdwara Nanak Niwas, the Indian Cultural Centre. We briefly toured the facility which was in the middle of hosting a sikh wedding. Babe and I loved seeing all the women in their beautiful traditional clothing and we even got to sneak a peek at the bride and groom! Afterwards lunch was being served downstairs which looked and smelled amazing. However we had plans to meet my mom for lunch so instead Babe just snacked on some watermelon and grooved to the music. There were so many people and things that I wanted to photograph but I didn't want to intrude on the wedding. I wish we had time tomorrow to go and check out the other Gurdwara tomorrow.

Finally we stopped in at the Ling Yen Mountain (Buddhist) Temple. By this time we were in a bit of a hurry to meet my mom but Babe, now a little tired and hungry still enjoyed it. She was awed by the big gold Buddha and she was in love with the volunteers after they gave her a couple of baby-sized buddhist bracelets. The courtyard is beautiful and walking along the outdoor halls and listening to the wind chimes was really relaxing. Afterwards we went in the back garden and I took off my shoes and walked along the pebble pathways for a little foot massage while Babe played with the rocks.

Minoru Chapel is also open to visitors this weekend but we didn't get a chance to go. We walk by it all the time and the outside is so pretty I'd love to see the inside. But that will have to wait until next time.

So if you still don't have anything planned for Sunday (May 5th) maybe head out to Richmond and check out some of the many Doors Open locations. Otherwise I hope you enjoyed the photos from our tour of some of the many places of worship in Richmond and keep them in mind the next time you are out this way.

A Little Story About Life After Death.

So I'm not religious but I found this passage in one of the pregnancy books I read and I liked it. It uses the story of birth as possible proof that there is life after death. I found it interesting so I thought I would share it here:

Once upon a time, twins were conceived in the womb. Seconds, minutes, hours passed as the two dormant lives developed. The spark of life flowed until it fanned fire with the formation of their embryonic brains. With their simple brains came feeling, and with feeling, perception, a perception of surroundings, of each other, of self.

When they perceived the life of each other and their own life, they knew that life was good, and they laughed and rejoiced; the one saying “Lucky are we to have been conceived, and to have this world,” and the other chiming, “Blessed be the Mother who gave us this life and each other.”

Each budded and grew arms and fingers, legs and toes. They stretched their hands and churned and turned in their new-found world. They explored their worlds and in it found the life cord, which gave them life from the precious Mother’s blood. So they sang, “How great is the love of the Mother that she shares all she has with us!” And they were pleased and satisfied with their lot.

Weeks passed into months, and with the advent of each new month they noticed a change in each other and each began to see change in himself. “We are changing,” said the one. “What can it mean?”

“It means,” replied the other, “that we are drawing near to birth.”

An unsettling chill crept over the two, and they both feared, for they knew that birth meant leaving all their world behind.

Said the one, “Were it up to me, I would live here forever.”

“We must be born,” said the other.

“It has happened to all others that were here.” For indeed there was evidence of life there before as the Mother had borne others.

“But mightn’t there be life after birth?”

“How can there be life after birth?” cried the one. “Do we not shed our life cord and also the blood tissue? And have you ever talked to one that has been born? Has anyone ever re-entered the womb after birth? No!” He fell into despair, and in his despair he moaned, “If the purpose of conception and all our growth is that it be ended in birth, then truly our life is absurd.”

Resigned to despair, the one stabbed the darkness with his unseeing eyes and as he clutched his precious life cord to his chest said, “If this is true, and life is absurd then there really can be no Mother.”

“But there is a Mother,” protested the other, “Who else gave us nourishment and our world?”

“We get our own nourishment, and our world has always been here. And if there is a Mother where is she? Have you ever seen her? Does she ever talk to you? No! We invented the Mother because it satisfied a need in us. It made us feel secure and happy.”

Thus while one raved and despaired, the other resigned to birth and placed trust in the hands of the Mother.

Hours stretched into days, and days fell into weeks. And it came time. Both knew their birth was at hand, and both feared what they did not know. As the one was first to be conceived, so he was the first to be born, the other following.

They cried as they were born into the light. And coughed out the fluid and gasped the dry air. And when they were sure they had been born, they opened their eyes seeing for the first time, and found themselves cradled in the warm love of their Mother! They lay open-mouthed and awestruck before the beauty and truth they could not have hoped to have known.

-Anonymous-