The K-Word

I'm ashamed to say it, but I'm totally hooked on the Kardashians. It's horrible. They're vapid, but amusing. I can't take my eyes off the screen. Khloe is my favourite. I love her demonstration with an orange, of Lasik eye surgery. Ha!

The really terrible part is that Dave's just as bad as I am. "I'm going to bed," he says. Twenty minutes later, he mumbles, "Just. Can't. Stop. Watching."

So we're watching it on Sunday night -- Khloe and Kourtney in Miami. Kourtney has the baby at this point and she goes out on a bit of a binge with her girlfriends, drinking and partying. Tricky, because she's breastfeeding; always a sensitive topic for me, depending on how it's approached. Anyway, she has these ridiculous test strips, where you dip the strip into the breastmilk to test it for alcohol. (Really, can't you just not drink while breastfeeding? I don't drink while I'm not breastfeeding. It's not difficult. So a full twenty-four hours or so after the binge, her milk is still testing positive for alcohol. And she says, "If I have to give Mason a bottle of forumula, I'll be devastated."

Well.

I can appreciate that you would be devestated. She seems to have worked hard to make breastfeeding work, it appears to be important to her, so it wasn't necessarily a comment that I would flip out on. I save that for when I'm personally attacked in the movie theatre by a team of lactards, when they see me preparing a bottle of formula.

But Himself lost his marbles.

He was really upset that she said it - that she said it, in the first place (formula is food, not poison, people), and the tone she used... Like, she wouldn't stoop so low. (I think she always sounds like that, though.) He said that she should basically smarten up, realize that not everyone breastfeeds - by choice or by necessity - and be a little more sensitive about it, especially since she's being viewed by many, many people.

It actually was really touching. So many things we put ourselves through as mommies - the men just don't always get it, try though they may (or not, and just write us off as neurotic packages of hormones). He really gets how hard the whole breastfeeding debacle was for me. And his little episode told me that he'll always be on my side.

There. Mushiness over.

Have Yourself a Merry Little...

I think the thing I miss most about Grandpa Neil right now, besides it being The Season and how he was just the embodiment of this time of year in spirit, is how he missed out on how fashionable our gum rubbers have become. Ahead of our time in the barnyard, as it were. I can just hear the ribbing I'd get, if I'd shown up in pink ones to needle calves or something. Probably as bad as when I purposely bought ripped jeans that looked like they'd been soaked in diesel and left unwashed for fifteen months.

I remember so many Christmases... Mass on Christmas Eve after Mom had prepared our special family dinner. She made paste of mashed potatoes one year - too much enthusiasm with a hand-held blender. The Tora Bora Express, when Seamus and I hijacked her Christmas tree with his GI Joes on the Christmas train, and repelling down the tree... Took her hours to notice. After Mass, off to Ma's house for a Reveillon. House full of people - it didn't matter what had happened over the year: if you were family, you were there. And it's a big family. Santa at midnight with dollar store gifts. Almost always, a stranger passing by whose car had broken down, who was welcome into the warmth of the house. A light burning all night for that very reason, to guide them. Ragout, turkey, meat pies. Christmas cake with tiny icing flowers and those little silver balls on each one - it must have taken her hours. The decorations on the kitchen ceiling I had put up while on Grandpa's broad shoulders. My loud family all competing to talk. The singing. Laughing. Looking forward to more of the same in a week's time, for New Year's - but a little different, because the songs would change. Ripping into the gifts at about 3 a.m., and then heading home for a few hours' sleep, only to get into more gifts and candies and cookies and leftovers, and then back to Ma's before 11 a.m. for more food. Food, the food. An afternoon lost napping, drawing on uncles with markers and pens, nailing Grandpa with a rubber dart gun - right in the forehead - while he chatted with someone who had dropped in, his long legs stretched across the kitchen, hands laced behind his head...

And then a Christmas five years ago. The last Christmas with Grandpa. Quieter, not knowing what the next year would bring. Tense. Staying with him to change an ostomy bag. Hearing him apologize for being sick. Telling him he had nothing to apologize for. Lying quietly with him, while his body slowly shut down and gave into the widespread cancer that had been lurking for a long, long time.

We had a new tradition the next year: a community Christmas dinner. A few people we knew had lost family that year, not only ours... And given how full he had made our Christmases before, it was going to be an empty one. I think we just didn't want to be celebrating together, alone in that house. So we brought our Christmas dinner to the community hall in Kazabazua, and told people... Anyone who needed to eat, who needed company, was welcome. The donations were significant. We served dozens of meals, and delivered many, too. And each year since, it's gotten bigger. The donations - a lot of them anonymous - have been overwhelming. And the response has been both heartwearming and bittersweet.

Grandpa and Ma donated the original doors to that community centre. We like to think that he's still welcoming people in.

This year is different still. We have Leah... And she is spectacular.

Merry Christmas, if that's what you do. We take a mishmash of traditions and customs and have made it our own - none the less sacred for us. David, Leah and I will be with the family and large circle of friends and volunteers at the Kazabazua Community Centre tomorrow, serving a traditional Christmas feast donated by many, to those who need it for whatever reason. Drop by; the doors are open for all.

For Murray

Said good-bye, very suddenly, to the most fantastic teacher, friend and mentor I will ever know, today. Murray Orlando, you made a difference. You challenged me to always be better; to respect, but to look beyond, what and where I came from. You were a consummate ahtlete and educator. It has been a privilege.

Do you not know that all the runners in a stadium compete, but only one receives the prize? Run so as to win. Each competitor must exercise self-control in everything. They do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one.

So I do not run uncertainly or box like one who hits only air. Instead I subdue my body and make it my slave, so that after preaching to others I myself will not be disqualified.

I Corinthians 9:24-27

La mort n'est rien. Je suis seulement passé, dans la pièce à côté.

Je suis moi. Vous êtes vous. Ce que j'étais pour vous, je le suis toujours.

Donnez-moi le nom que vous m'avez toujours donné, parlez-moi comme vous l'avez toujours fait. N'employez pas un ton différent, ne prenez pas un air solennel ou triste.
Continuez à rire de ce qui nous faisait rire ensemble.

Priez, souriez, pensez à moi, priez pour moi.
Que mon nom soit prononcé à la maison comme il l'a toujours été, sans emphase d'aucune sorte, sans une trace d'ombre.

La vie signifie tout ce qu'elle a toujours été. Le fil n'est pas coupé. Pourquoi serais-je hors de vos pensées, simplement parce que je suis hors de votre vue ?
Je ne suis pas loin, juste de l'autre côté du chemin.

Lights and Candles and Saturn - Oh, my!

13 December is Lucia Day, the day to honour martyred Saint Lucy or Lucia. It falls twelve days before Christmas. It's widely celebrated in northern Europe, particularly Sweden and Finland, and for the most part survived the Reformations. Lucia's Latin root is lux, or light. Many legends surround the saint - tortured by having her eyes gouged out, she led Christians through the catacombs and lit the way by placing a wreath with candles on her head... Obviously, there are remnants of sun or light worship in it, and certain features of pagan festivals from this time of year, too!

Interestingly, it's possible that Solstice used to fall around 13 December. The Julian calendar was replaced by Pope Gregory XIII in early 1582. The Gregorian calendar dropped between eight and eleven days, depending on when it was adopted (I think!) - so something celebrated on or around 21 December under the current, Gregorian calendar, would have been celebrated around a week earlier under the old Julian calendar (date-wise). This is simply a way of counting dates - I'm not proposing that the Gregorian adjustments also changed the axial tilt of the planet! Solstice would still have been the same "day", we would just call it by another date. Make sense?

I'm not entirely sure on the mechanics, but somehow, the Julian calendar and its basis on the lunar calendar, and ignorance of the leap year concept, "lost" minutes each year, which added up to days lost over the centuries, and was problematic in fixing dates like Easter.

So, anyway, 13 December might have featured in the collective mentality in Sweden and Finland, among other areas, as the shortest day of the year. They would still be marking the date, you see, even though the *event* - the equinox - falls a week or so later. And they honour a Christian saint who seems to have significant ties to the use of light in the pagan sense at this time of year.

Obviously the Romans celebrated light at this time; they focused on Saturnus, and Saturnalia was a time for all to make merry, visit and give gifts. Saturn was the son of Uranus and Gaia (heaven and earth) - a pretty important, fearsome guy who killed his father, took his sister as his wife and was then the father of Ceres, Jupiter, Neptune, Juno and other important fellows... Although Saturn apparently ate most of them, for fear that his own children would supplant him. Long story. Basically, Jupiter escaped; he grew up, poisoned Saturn with the help of Gaia, Saturn vomitted up Jupiter's siblings... A familial war ensued, with Jupiter and his siblings v. Saturn and his siblings. Prometheus helped Jupiter et al., and together they defeated Saturn et al.; all were cast into the underworld and Saturn was either castrated or chopped up into itty, bitty pieces before his banishment (which, by the way, is how he did his own father in). I've heard another ending of the myth, that has Saturn going to Rome to rule - and a fabulous time was had by all. And at some point, he became the god of agriculture - which really does depend on the summer season and the return of the sun. All in all, it seems to be a great myth that fits in with the light v. darkness - you've got to admit, Saturn is a pretty dark figure, what with marrying his sister, eating his babies and the patricide and all - but possibly the correct way to take Saturn and Saturnalia and the light-honouring, is that his Roman rule was said to have been a real Golden Age of peace and harmony. Saturnalia is an honouring or celebration of that, and an ushering in of the growing season (and not so much his incestuous, cannibalistic and patricidal tendancies...).

Oh, and candles! Candles were a key gift given during Saturnalia celebrations. They were quite a treasure. Candlelight and fires were, as with the Yule Log, a way to bring the light. Lucia festivities feature a wreath with small tapers perched in it, worn by the oldest daughter of the house (or is it the youngest...?). The Catholic church has the advent wreath, which is similar - a wreath (eternity, evergreen, etc. - or perhaps the victory of everlasting life over darkness?) with four candles on the outer perimeter lit in the weeks leading to Christmas Day, and if I remember right, one in the middle lit on Christmas. I don't think you can get more pagan than that - no offense intended.

In Victorian times, scented candles were exchanged as gifts; and candles on the tree might have symbolized the guiding star, rather than the return of the sun and the growth that brings in the new year or new cycle. My Catholic family leaves a light burning outside on the night of 24 December - my Grandpa said it was to guide a weary traveller, but others do this to guide the Christ child. Now, we have Christmas lights, too.

Whew. From Saint Lucy, to Saturnus, to Yule Logs and candles and weary travellers... I feel like a weary traveller myself!

Trees, Wreaths and Greenery

So we've covered a few types of greenery - holly and mistletoe - already. Both of these are evergreens and produce fruit in winter. In the Yule traditions, we're looking at regions that for the most part had, at this time of year, about six hours of daylight at best. Evergreens were a powerful symbol of the nature of life - cyclical and everlasting - and that with the return of light and warmth after Solstice, so would come growth.

There are a few traditions we have to look at - the Romans, the Europeans and more modern versions.

The Romans decorated evergreen trees - living ones, not cut trees - with silver and gold to honour Bacchus (hello, fertility!) in their Saturnalia celebrations. Saturnus, by the way, was the god of agriculture - fits right in with Solstice and the return of light and growth. Solstice celebrations in Northern Europe included evergreen boughs. Boughs were decorated with fruit and hung as a simple symbol of the season. Druids decorated living trees with objects to symbolize or bring fertility and prosperity. In some parts of Europe (I'm not sure at what point), trees might have been brought into the home as a warm place for the faery/woodland folk to hang while waiting on the return of light and warmth. For the less magickal, the trees may have served as a simple reminder that growth would come again. Green boughs were usually kept until Imbolc (early February), when they were burned to usher in spring.

Fast-forward to the Christmas tree. This gets a little confusing. One of the first recordings of a 'Christmas' tree, in Latvia, has a group of 'blackheads' (men in black hats) bringing out the tree, dancing and singing, and then burning it - a link to Imbolc?

Some folks hold that Martin Luther 'started' the Christmas tree - not likely. There are recordings of these trees in modern-day Estonia and the area pre-dating ML. Early recordings include dancing and singing around the tree - not likely a Christian tradition, given the solemnity with which the early churches approached Christmas, but it does smack of the heathen and pagan traditions. It was more popular with the Protestant communities - maybe a response to the Catholic nativity scene, or perhaps as a function of being a mainly guild-focused activity (guilds were very strong in German towns like Bremen, where some of the earliest recordings of Christmas trees come from). Eventually the trees became quite mainstream among most Christian traditions - but not for want of trying to stop it.

There have been objections to the Christmas tree, too -- as early as the third century or so, it was rejected by the early Christian church as a pagan trapping (Tertullian, I think). There is likely a biblical reference to it, too (probably referring to a Middle Eastern tradition, based on the region, but maybe a reference to the dying Roman traditions). From the King James bible, Jeremiah 10:2-4:

Thus saith the LORD, Learn not the way of the heathen, and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them. For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it moveth not.

Puritans also condemned the tree as a symbol of Christmas. Oliver Cromwell is known to have preached against carols, decorated trees and joyful expression (it was held as a solemn occassion), and early Puritan governors in today's United States tried to eradicate such "pagan mockery" as 'Christmas' trees. (It's actually a little ironic that people credit Martin Luther with the Christmas tree.)

In spite of all this pagan mockery, Christmas trees became quite mainstream by the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. I do know that the earliest Christmas tree in Canada was around 1780, a tradition brought by a German military official and his wife to Sorel, Quebec. I believe the tradition came to Britain through the same means - German ancestry, probably by way of the Royals. I think there were Hessian troops during the American Revolutionary War - they might have brought the Christmas tree over. As late as 1851, a preacher who included a tree in his church was in danger of losing his post, for the outcry it cause. And I've heard that in 1900, only one in five American families had a Christmas tree.

One thing I'm not sure on, is the tradition of placing a star or angel on top of the tree. When did that start? I imagine it might have been a Christian response to the tree, but I'm not sure when it began... Could this be some kind of link to the rumour that trees were initially hung upside-down, but turned right-side-up by the Christians to point to heaven?

Oh, and a word on wreaths! Wreaths have long been symbolic of honour and victory in the Greek and Roman contexts. Evergreens represent everlasting life, as do circles (a.k.a., a wheel - possibly what the word "yule" means!). Northern European traditions have had evergreen wreaths with four candles to represent the four elements (earth, air, fire, water), and to bring on or welcome the return of light after Solstice. Wiccans and others decorate their homes from outside in, to invite the light and goodness inside the home - perhaps starting with a wreath on the door - which may be from the Druidic traditions. And perhaps the church co-opted this from the Germanic tribes... It reminds me of the Advent wreath and candles in Catholic churches at this time of year!

So, Christmas trees and greenery belong to all of us! Globalism has nothin' on The Season.

The Yule Log

No, not the delicious cakey treat.

Well, not *only* the cakey treat.

You also have the tradition of the Yule Log. Egyptians and Sumerians had a log-burning ritual at Solstice. The Romans brought Mithras (a Persian sun-god) into Saturnalia around 65 BC - that involved burning a large log for over a week. The Druids had a (usually) oak log is a phallic symbol (again, with the fertility!). Some decorated it with holly, mistletoe and evergreen before burning. Remnants are kept to bring luck, and to light the Yule log of the following year. Parts of England used the ashen faggot - ash branches tied up into a log-like form. (The ash tree is also said to be magickal, like the oak.)

I've also heard that the Yule Log and Christmas Tree might cross paths - a large tree might have been chosen, decorated and then burned.

Burning the log is a way to usher in the light, or to celebrate the return of the light with the passing of the Solstice. Depending on the wood used, it also has some features of worship to it. Some of the logs or faggots were massive and took days to burn. As houses became smaller and giant fireplaces disappeared in France, it's possible that they took to baking their Yule log (the buche de Noel) and eating it instead. Slavic Yule Log traditions are very precise - songs to be sung, phrases, who cuts the log and so on. The Yule Log tradition varies, but its history is widespread throughout Europe.

Mistletoe

Kiss, kiss!

Mistletoe is another sacred plant. Its healing powers were so potent it was called "Allheal". It's actually a rather parasitic thing, because it grows on other trees and depends on its host tree for nourishment... Which could be what led to the thought that it has magical powers. Imagine the dead of winter, all tress except the evergreens are bare, and here's the mistletoe flourishing on something that looks dead! How could something without roots in the earth do so well in winter?!?

Mistletoe on an oak is an especially auspicious find in the Druidic tradition. There are passages from Pliny about how Druids would do nothing ceremonial without oak, and that mistletoe found on oak was the penultimate sacred object. The priests would cut the mistletoe from the oak with a golden sickle in the week following the first new moon after Solstice; they'd then cut the plant into tiny sprigs and divide it among the people. The people would hang the sprigs from their doorways as protection from bad things. Mistletoe came to be a symbol for protection and luck.

I believe those of the Wiccan tradition decorate their house from outside in, and use mistletoe to protect and invite the light into their homes.

I'm not quite so familiar with the Norse tradition of mistletoe, but I think the mother of Balder so loved her son that she travelled the earth, getting promises from everything that sprung from the four elements (earth, air, water and fire) to never harm her son. She forgot (?) about mistletoe. A "baddie" found this loophole and made an arrow of mistletoe, gave it to Balder's blind brother and guided his hand/the arrow to Balder's heart. Balder, of course, fell dead. His mother's tears became the mistletoe's white berries. If the tale has a happy ending (I'm not sure if it ends with Balder's death, or if this next part was an addition to make the fable more palatable), it's that Balder's mother reverses the curse of the plant, making it a symbol of love and a promise of a kiss for whomever passes under it.

The Norse tale might be linked to the powerful reputation of the mistletoe. In the wrong hands, it can be fatally poisonous, especially the berries.

In Scandinavian lore, if two battling factions came upon mistletoe in the forest, they were to call a truce until the next day.

Since it stayed green in winter, even while growing on seemingly dead trees, it was also linked with fertility. Which is interesting, because some ancient traditions hold that the Goddess gives birth to the Oak King at this time of year... Bringing light and growth again. Maybe that's where all the smooching stems from, hmm?

So. Think on this - Solstice in northern Europe, or ancient Britain, at least a thousand years ago - when you hang your plastic mistletoe, or snuggle up under it, this year!

Holly

So many common symbols of the season have their roots deep in our collective history. Rather than launch a diatribe on how the Christians stole Solstice, or urgings to put the "Sol" back in Solstice and the fire back in the Yule Log, or exhortations to put "Christ" back in "Christmas" I am writing here to highlight the traditions we share in the common spirit of the season - we are all celebrating some very sacred, spiritual aspects of life, regardless of our affiliation; and also as an hommage to the ancient ancestors who, in their connection to Mother Earth and the cycle of life and the seasons, gave us these symbols and traditions. This little series is by no means academic; I'm reaching deep into the recesses of my lately-rather-shabby memory in a spirit of, well - fun. This is not intended to disrespect any belief system. I enjoy history and looking at the origins of traditions - that's all. (Also, I'm a self-professed nerd, trapped in the house with some sort of plague-like illness [just a cold? Pssht!] with two other sick people, one of them a Little, and my husband who, to hear him tell it, is likely terminally ill. I need some amusement and mind-sharpening.)

First up: holly. It's a sacred plant in many traditions.

Holly has been symbolic of fertility and everlasting life. There are a few basic traditions that I can think of: that of the Romans and Saturnalia, and the pagan traditions (and by that I'm thinking of the basic Norse and Celtic myths), and the more recent Christian ones.


The Romans paid respect to the god Saturn at this time of year. They feasted and made very merry for about a week, ending around 23 December (which is interesting to note, because the Solstice can fall, I think, anywhere between 20 and 23 December, depending on the year). Holly was the sacred plant associated with Saturn, and was a common gift to the god and to one another.


Then you have the Holly King and Oak King. The Kings may be specific to the Norse traditions, though I can't be sure. The Oak King symbolizes the new year and rules from mid-winter (winter Solstice) to midsummer (summer Solstice). The Holly King rules from midsummer to mid-winter and is symbolic of winter. At Yule-time and midsummer, the Kings struggle for the favour of the Goddess. At Yule, the Oak King kills the Holly King (I believe by cutting of his head) or sends him away, at the least, and with this victory brings or is symbolic of light and growth.


There are so many symbols for and links back to each of the Kings. The Kings struggling twice a year might seem a little airy-fairy, I'm sure, but there's also an Irish fable of the robin redbreast (Oak King) finding the wren (Holly King) in either a holly bush or an ivy bush, and killing the wren -- or the new year succeeding the old.


The Holly King was symbolic of winter. What happens at midsummer, after all? Days shorten, darkness begins to rule in a literal sense, the weather turns colder day by day, crops are harvested after that point and vegetation and many animals go to rest.


The Kings are either twins who struggle, or perhaps the same person, reborn cyclically in a new form to rule the seasons. I believe the sabbats of the year are associated with the king's lifecycle. Some traditions hold that his marriage at midsummer to the Goddess is consummated so fully that it results in his death (imagine that wedding night! Yikes). At Samhain (Halloween), he awaits rebirth via the Goddess - and part of the Yule tradition is the birth of the Child of Promise (who, I believe, then becomes the Oak King - or is *like* the Oak King in that he brings new year and light).

It may seem odd, but the Holly King is believed to be an antecedent to Santa Claus. That's a topic for another post, though!

In most Christian traditions, holly was believed to be very powerful, with magickal powers. It was hung on entryways to homes, to ward off evil spirits and witches... Who usually roam in the darkness, or are considered "dark", hmm? It's also taken as symbolic of Christ's crown of thorns, and the berries, of the blood shed in redemption. The carol "The Holly and the Ivy" is heavy with Christian symbolism - the white flower for the Virgin Mary, the red berry for the blood Christ shed, the thorn and so on.

So it's all very confusing. It would be difficult for one tradition to claim it as their own. There are many traditions that hold holly as sacred and/or powerfully symbolic, from the Romans, the Norse, Druids and Christians, and likely many others. It's a beautiful, sacred plant. It's a little sad that as a natural species, it's now becoming rare in many areas. Maybe symbolic of our losing touch with our origins, too?

Seasonal Musings: I

The Grinch

Tony Blair

Tony Blair

The Grinch

A Different Sort of Remembrance Day

Two years. A year seems like a long time, until you count your grief in years.

We were just married and so, so hopeful for you; so excited. You were so wanted. It was over far too quickly and cruelly. I think of you often, especially now: we've come full circle. Vacillating from absolute, complete darkness to hope, dealing with the worst of human nature and finding the best.

You were loved, very, very much, and still are. You helped your father and I learn what and who really matters, and you gave the two of us so much more understanding and love for one another. We would never have come to that if it hadn't been for you. I'm so sorry your little life was so brief, but it did make an impact on us, all for the better, even though losing you has been the worst thing that ever happened to me. I just can't imagine that your presence was without a point or value; I believe it was very valuable, but it took me a long time to understand and accept how. And be grateful for the worst, and one of the best, things that ever happened to us.

We still miss who you might have been, maybe even more so now that we've had a wonderful eight months with Leah. Your sister is beautiful and makes us glow. I wouldn't have traded you for anything, but I'm grateful to you for starting us on our path to Leah. Losing you is still the worst thing that's ever happened to us. I still remember, so clearly, waking up that morning and feeling peaceful and glowing at the thought of what your Daddy and I had made, a calm joy at what the coming months and years would bring. And then later that day, the horror of what was happening. I still feel that horror. It was meant to be this way, but I'm still so sorry I couldn't do right by you. I only hope that the way we live our lives now is a testament to how you touched us.

We love you.

Super cool giveaway!

Check out this giveaway for a package of Canadian-made pocket diapers! It sounds like a fabulous company. Their colours are pretty, with a fair price point. No bogus lines about the Canadian government "unfairly taxing" diapers that are made outside of North America, either...

I hope we get to try these sometime soon, once The Horrible Rash is cleared up!

Cheering Myself Up

Leah is eight months old, strong and healthy and funny.

She has a beautiful smile, my eyes and a wonky spot on her ear that she got from me, too.

Leah knows her name now.

She's learning to clap her hands and is doing so to some songs on "Sesame Street" as I write this. She loves the Will.I.Am song... "Oh, I'mma keep my head up high, Keep on reachin' high, Never gonna quit, Just keep gettin' stronger..."

Leah loves her Exersaucer, and jumps so energetically that sometimes I think she'll bring down the house. She babbles and has a magnificent laugh.

She is getting ready to crawl, but in the meantime, she gets where she needs to go by bouncing on her bum and digging in her heels to propel herself forward. She did that to reach the ragdoll I made for her that was on the edge of the couch.

My husband is happy at work. We have a beautiful home, lots of good food to eat and we are warm. Our car had the sensibility to breakdown while we were still at our hotel on Sunday, and not while we were in the middle of nowhere on the 401.

And now, I'm going to go out and see how many people in weird outfits I can find.

There. I feel pretty good now.

This is Leah's rag doll. I'll be making more for an upcoming craft sale. I love sewing. :)

15 October

From the 109th Congress in the U.S., H. Con. Res. 222, passed 25 July, 2007:

Whereas each year, approximately one million pregnancies in the United States end in miscarriage, stillbirth, or the death of a newborn baby;

Whereas it is a great tragedy to lose the life of a child;

Whereas babies sometimes live within or outside their mothers' wombs for only a short period of time;

Whereas even the shortest lives are still valuable, and the grief of those who mourn the loss of these lives should not be trivialized;

Whereas during the past two years, Governors of all 50 States have signed proclamations designating October 15 as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day;

Whereas the legislatures of the States of Arkansas, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Missouri, New York, Rhode Island, and South Dakota have passed concurrent resolutions recognizing October 15 of each year, as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day;

Whereas the observance of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day may provide validation to those who have lost a baby through miscarriage, stillbirth, or other complications;

Whereas recognizing Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day will provide the people of the United States with an opportunity to increase their understanding of the great tragedy involved in the deaths of unborn and newborn babies;

Whereas Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day would enable the people of the United States to consider how, as individuals and communities, they can meet the needs of bereaved mothers, fathers, and family members, and work to prevent the causes of these deaths; and

Whereas October 15, 2005 would be an appropriate day to observe National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day: Now, therefore, be it

Resolved by the House of Representatives (the Senate concurring), That the Congress--

(1) supports the goals and ideals of National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day;

and

(2) requests that the President issue a proclamation calling upon the people of the United States to observe such day with appropriate programs and activities.

Canadians in Ontario, please visit Perinatal Bereavement Services of Ontario for information about their campaign to have 15 October recognized as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day in Ontario.

Please take a moment at 7 p.m. in your time zone on the evening of 15 October and light a candle for one hour. The goal is to have a wave of light passing through, to mark for just a short time the lives of such tiny beings who touched so many people very deeply.

Stored up rants

Apparently this has caused quite a furore among the more rabid lactivists. Apparently a onesie that could be a reference to racecar technology is being taken as a subversive plot to - gasp! - promote something other than breastfeeding. Which of course, if you'll remember, everyone can do, and if you can't - well, you just didn't try hard enough. The onesie is a conspiracy, a promotion tool for formula companies that will outright stop people from breastfeeding... Because they want their baby to look cool in an Old Navy onesie.

Some are even calling for a boycott of Old Navy.

Pause, for a moment, and ponder that no one is calling for a boycott on the basis that this onesie was likely made in a sweatshop on the labour of kiddies (who may or may not have been breastfed).

Funny that I don't see anyone complaining about the sexualization of young children with "Boob Man" slogans on onesies. No, that's funny and acceptable, and readily available.

I wonder if they get this steamed about bottle-shaped "Baby on Board" signs for cars?

No. For the most part, the minivan folks with those signs in the window use it as an excuse to drive like even bigger jerks. I guess they have boycotts to get to.

Tell me, does logic seep out when one breastfeeds? No?

Anyway, we all know that breastfeeding is better in the short- and longer-term, but I am so finished with the aggressive, judgemental mommies whose comments regarding formula-feeding sometimes border on abusive and are at minimum often passive-aggressive. I can only hope they are teaching their children better than to judge and abuse others without understanding the many shades that contribute to a choice.

Make a new bandwagon. Instead of slagging people for formula feeding, and complaining about Old Navy's logos, why don't you use this energy to start lobbying for coverage of lactation consultants and breastfeeding education and support under private and public insurance plans? Breastfeeding can help prevent many common health concerns - most of which are huge burdens on our public healthcare. So, help a momma out - help get all of us the tools that many women cannot afford, in order to make more women successful at breastfeeding.

We like cloth diapers at our house. It's been six months since we bought disposables. I have part of a packet left that are hilariously tiny... Hilarious, but they do make me sad, with their tininess.

And to be clear, we like cloth diapers for a few reasons:

1. We never run out of diapers. We're conscious of how many clean ones we have left, in a way that we were not conscious of the diaper stock when we were blindly grabbing a 'sposie from a package during Leah's first four weeks or so.
2. They are cheaper than 'sposies. Our initial stash cost about $250. We've since spent a little more on nighttime diapers. A week's supply of diapers for us was running at least $20. You do the math. You're all set, if you can limit yourself to your initial stash and not keep getting pulled in by the cuteness.
3. Leah has never had a diaper rash (knock wood).
4. Leah does not smell like pee in her cloth diapers.
5. We're not buying something just to throw it away and add to the massive piles of garbage upon which we'll all tread and build our homes before too long.

These are, however, not for everyone.

Anyway, Cotton Babies, makers of BumGenius, Flip (our favourites) and Econobum have come out with new prints on their 4.0 and all-in-one versions. There was a lot of hype about the "reveal" and I was initially disappointed that I wouldn't be able to get Flip covers in the allegedly fun new prints.

Then I saw the prints. And their video reveal.

A few thoughts...

First, the prints are ugly. There's no way around it. I don't even know what the heck the print is even of. (If you can see it, please do share.) There appear to be semi-identifiable eyes throughout the prints (which I find slightly more disturbing than birds). And they all look the same to me. The colours are just... Anyway.

They have named each "design": Concrete Jungle, Jet Setter, Free Spirit, Retail Therapy and Eiffel Tower. The "collection" is called Tiny Socialite.

At this point the stream of consciousness is nearly exploding in my head.

Clearly, they are marketing this to the yummy-mummy yuppie types who are, I suppose, increasingly purchasing BumGenius products in tony baby boutiques in hip neighbourhoods. That's all I can fathom, based on the names of these things. And the fact that Cotton Babies refers to this as a "collection". I know Cotton Babies wants to make money, but this has kind of taken the whole point of cloth diapers - as a way to be more self-reliant rather than consumer-driven - to a different level.

The artist is likely not a mother. Really, you want to make diapering more exciting? I can't get exicted about poo, no matter what it's wrapped up in. Fail.

You imagined or used as your muses jet-setting, disco babies with little "fros"? Tiny socialites, you say? All I can picture is some sort of baby-esque Real Housewives scenario. Famous for having money and doing nothing. Or not having money, as it were. That, or an airport scene from a Jackie Collins book, with rich babies and their LV luggage...

This is almost as bad as the Huggies jean-print diaper commercials.

Now, this is a bull, so here's a really cute baby. And some horses. And the milkhouse at Mom and Dad's.

Monday, you can fall apart...

Tuesday, Wednesday, break my heart

Oh, Thursday doesn't even start

It's Friday

I'm in love

Saturday, wait

And Sunday always comes too late...

OK, it's not Friday. It's Sunday night. But on Fridays... I really am in love. Because I get these two to myself all weekend long.

And we do all kinds of fun things with wonderful people.

We had a fabulous playdate on Friday with our cousins, Erik and little Scarlet.

We spent Saturday with Granny Darlene and Grandpa Chris, and had a visit with Jenn and Rick. Grandpa and Rick worked on a new porch/step at the Salon...

... and Granny and Jenn played with us in the grass.

We caught a car show on Saturday night...

... and a party at a neighbour's house as we walked home.

We passed Sunday afternoon with the Carlington Community Association at a nearby park, and met other babies about Leah's age. Sadly, no pictures, as I was enjoying some social time.

Should have some excellent shots of the Little Funny Bunny (who now has TWO teeth, thankyouverymuch) and the family, as we'll be doing an overnighter at Great-Grandma Ma's this week. Weather's supposed to be beautiful, so... vive le restant de l'ete. Sorry, I don't know how to do accents with this stupid laptop keyboard. :P

On Teeth

Leah's first tooth broke through on Sunday, 22 August, 2010, after several days of what I will now refer to as The Great Sleep Strike.

We feel so proud that she's growing so well and is so strong and bright and clever and energetic. But at the same time, this tooth is bringing us closer to toddlerhood.

I just want to absorb every minute of her babyness. There are always things to do here - laundry, tidying, cooking, and so on (and by the way, I love taking care of our home) - but I often just stop it all and make raspberries with her, watch her sleep or just cuddle her, or stay in bed with her later in the morning, just to watch her sleeping and feel a soft, squishy cheek against mine and smell her hair - a wonderful essence of Dove baby soap and Leah.

I don't know how I'll leave her, and go back to work. I feel anxious about the prospect most of the time now, and it's getting in the way of me enjoying the babyness.

The Uselessness Continues

Some people will give you that cliche, "Oh, you don't know x until you have a baby!"

And it's patronizing, but I have a twist on it for you.

You will never realize how much useless crap is for sale until you have a baby.

Witness first the Boon Dispensing Spoon. You screw the spoon onto the pouch to feed baby. It also comes in a friendly one-piece version, called The Squirt, which allows you to add your own food to the handle of the spoon. Really, how ever did we manage to feed our babies while out and about without these genius devices?

My question is, why do you need the spoon part, if you can just squeeze the food into your kid?

Admittedly, Boon does make some neat things. Mostly, they're in weird shapes to appeal to the design-conscious parent, I suppose.

Next up is the Kickbee. It "tweets" when your baby kicks.

So, it's like the fetal monitoring belts they make you wear in Labour & Delivery in the hospital.... except with Twitter! Truly, I need to call the hospitals about offering the Twitter service with their monitoring belts. Imagine, everyone could follow your excruciating contraction Tweets! And, hospitals could make money off of this service, I'm sure - which would certainly help ease the healthcare crisis.

Then there's this classic, the Babykeeper.

Yes, you just heard my head exploding. It's a Crotch Dangler. That hangs over the door of a bathroom stall. Or changing room stall. Or any door, I suppose.

Can't you just imagine all the idiots out there who would toss the kiddo into this when he/she is having a screaming fit at home, just to get them outta the way?

And this just freaks me out: the Zaky pillow.

This thing is $45 or more, and it looks like Thing from The Addams Family. Yes, yes, designed by a mom, mimics hands of an adult, possibly good for preemies... But seriously? Hand pillows?

They're just creepy.

On top of all this useless shit, are the unsafe products that every baby registry out there tells you that you need. Or rather, that your baby needs. Because if they don't have one, then you're a bad parent. And cheap.

Like bumper pads for cribs, which have been linked with an increased likelihood or risk of SIDS. So-called non-slip mats for car seats, and mats that prevent the carseat from marking the upholstery (talk to me in three years, when the upholstery is covered in apple sauce, mortar-like cookie-saliva paste and other unknowns), which can interfere with the proper positioning and securing of the car seat. Bunting bags that fit into the car seat, which can cause the car seat harness to not work properly in the event of an accident or impact.

Really, this is all about consumerism, except they're now preying on our Guilt for the marketing. How easy was that - to harness the guilt we make for ourselves, to get us to buy this crap? "Green Guilt" over having been born at all, which drives people to buy organic Pacific Ocean shrimp (I guess because they are an organism?). And if you feel that guilty about the environment, you'd think twice before buying yet another piece of plastic that will probably end up in the garbage or a garage sale. Exo tax for Ontario, you say? I say, stop these companies from making this plastic junk, and we'll be faring a lot better with the enviro.

Our babies will be deprived if they don't have a $350 high chair. A desire for convenience, perhaps? Or the "having it all" syndrome - to have the kids but make sure they are seen and not heard (or hanging on the back of the door and unseen, I guess). Or maybe it's about wanting and having it all, but not wanting - or having - the bloody energy to take care of it all. Guilt, greed and laziness, then.

I get that there are things that we need and it varies from parent to parent, family to family, and that in some cases, quality is important and prices can get high, but might be worth it. We "needed" a good stroller, because we do a lot of walking on all kinds of terrain. We "needed" a good infant carrier, because I love having Leah close to me; I believe it helps in bonding and attachment, and I wanted it to be comfortable for both of us. I "needed" a fancy diaper bag, because I'm a Bag Lady. And I'm sure some people find these items useful and even necessary. But do you really, really, really need a squirty baby food spoon, and a hanger for your baby, and hand-shaped pillows?

It's just all become so complicated. And expensive. And I don't think it's any better. I think it's all a little sad, really.

With all of the things that you "need" - you can have that baby, and never really have to hold them again, because there's a seat (and Babykeeper) for every mood and moment. And with handy gadgets like a video monitoring system (gone are the days when you could be satisfied with simply listening for your baby) - you can put them down and watch them from the kitchen, without even having to be near the little loveys!

And I felt guilty for using naptime to read, play with photos and have a coffee. I could have been doing that all day, while Leah entertains herself in a rotation of chairs and seats and activity mats and bouncers, and I check in on the video monitor like a security guard.

And I could just squirt her food into her from ten paces! Genius.

The first weeks of August in pictures

OK, going to dump these photos all over the place. Not enough hands to do the needful!

With Great-Grandma Lorraine (Ma), in the front yard at "home".

Wider shot of the front-yard at Ma's farm. Home, sweet home.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa Chris! Now, let me pull your beard.

You're very entertaining, Granny Darlene.

Catching the best light of the day: a golden hour or so in our front yard, at about 4:30 p.m.