What Your Doctor Didn't Tell You About Breastfeeding

What Your Doctor Didn't Tell You About Breastfeeding is an article I wrote for Triond.  In the first two hours it got more views than anything else I have written.  I was mildly surprised at the good response that it got, and is continuing to get.

There isn't a woman in the world who can't relate to some area in this article.  It's not just about breastfeeding versus bottle feeding, but how both sides of the debate interact and treat each other.

I guess at the end of the day, I don't think anyone has a right to bully or critique the decisions a mother makes when it comes to feeding her baby.  Too often we go to the extreme in our intense desire to BE RIGHT that I think sometimes we lose perspective.

Granted, facts are facts, but you must have ALL the facts to have a gainful understanding of your decisions.

Our First Trip to the Emergency Room

My oldest son, Cody, will be five years old next month.  He's never suffered from a major illness or virus with the exception of eczema.  However, last night, around 5:30, my husband showed up at my work with Cody in his arms.  "He's hurt, I think he needs stitches."

There was my little man, eyes red from crying, bandage slapped on his forehead above his right eye, jacket on inside out and streaks of blood on his face and hands.  And there was my husband, with the "I don't know what to do" look.

So I called my boss and told her I was leaving early (no problem), and off we went to the hospital.

We live in a small town, and all the clinics were closed, so the hospital is about 1/2 hour away.  On the trip,  Cody seemed to have recovered from the shock, and was happily singing and chatting away in the back seat.  Each time I looked, I noticed a little more blood had trickled from the wound and his eyelid was starting to turn red.  Nevertheless, he wasn't noticing it, so I chose not to draw attention to it.

By the time we actually got to the hospital, Cody was pretty much enjoying the great adventure.  Cooperative and polite at triage and registrations, he didn't even squirm when they wrapped a strip of gauze all the way around his head to hold the new bandage on.  He ended up looking like a MASH war victim, rather than a kid.

Fortunately, we were not the only ones in this boat, since the nurse told us that Cody made kid #75 to come in for stitches just that day.  True enough, two other battle wounded tots were in the waiting room also.

All in all we were in and out in about three hours.  The stitch doctor actually stayed late to fix up our Cody, since apparently, he had been on a roll for the day.  He was sympathetic to my husband, asking him how far into the doghouse he was.  I politely rolled my eyes, but kept quiet.

What most surprises me about the whole ordeal is not how quickly my son regained his happy disposition, but how "not freaking out" I was.  Even my hubby kept asking when I was going to get stressed or panicked or whatever.  Oddly enough, it didn't strike me as something to fret over.  Bumps, hurts, scrapes and yes, even the odd stitch (or four) are what I had expected from parenthood.  Partly because I knew right away it was not life-threatening.

Granted, he is now "scarred for life" but all in all, there are much worse things that could happen.  The other reason I escaped a freak-out attack, I wasn't there to see the blood or hear the screaming when it actually happened.  I know myself well enough to knowing the details saves me from a lot of overreacting, and also explains why my husband, usually calm and cool, didn't quite know what to do

They Grow So Fast

I hear it all the time, and yet lately, the speed at which my children are growing up has struck me amazingly hard.

My baby will be two in May.  He walks, climbs and runs.  He doesn't just talk, he has phrases and songs.  Last night he ran around the corner in the hall, and then stuck his head out to announce "I found you".  Yes, he was playing hide and seek.  As impressed as I was with the cuteness, I was also taken back a little. Later that evening, we read Thomas the tank engine, and he named every engine in the book.  After the book, I sang the song to him, and when I paused for a moment, he picked it up and kept singing, clearing naming the engines in the song, and humming over the words he cannot speak.  Yet enough of it was there to understand he was singing the song.

His older brother will be five next month.  This coming Friday he will getting an award at school.  Although I'm not sure yet what it is for, I would suspect it would be for helping others.  Notes that come home from the teacher always extoll his assistance in the class.  He helped a child sound out words they were trying to spell.  He helped another log into the computer.  He offered a hug and comfort to another child who fell.  Yes, that's my boy.

Both of my children are my babies, and as pleased as I am with their progress, it also saddens me a little at how fast they are growing.  I am never quick enough with the camera or video to a capture the moments.  I miss a lot because I am at work.  I feel bad if I get annoyed at their clinginess some days.  Sometimes I make a mental plan, "today the boys and I are going to make cookies" and then I don't ever get around to it.  They don't seem to care, but I worry I will miss out on all the opportunities, and before you know it, hanging out with Mom will be no big deal anymore.

I know, I know, it's normal and natural.  But, geez, they just grow up so fast.

I Just Discovered How Canadian I Am

It's funny how many things we Canadians are accustomed to that people from outside the country have never heard of.  I never realized how non-Americanized I was until I started writing for the world wide web.

I recently wrote a top ten list of sorts about some of my favourite songs, and low and behold, the majority of the list was made up of Canadian artists.  The Band, Alannah Myles, Haywire and Helix were rounding out the list.   It occurred to me, that I should probably not overdo the Canadian content, since I honestly have no idea how much exposure these songs may have gotten outside our border.

So there I was, trying to remember some of my favourite songs that were not from Canadians, and what comes to mind are names like, Bryan Adams, Kim Mitchell, The Guess Who, Steppenwolf, Sass Jordan, Luba and so on.  It was like trying not to think of pink elephants.  A great song would flutter into my brain only to be followed by, "no wait, their Canadian".  It took me four days to complete the article because for the life of me, all thoughts led back home.   I ended up having to google "80's songs" to kickstart my brain again.

However, it did leave me thinking that I have an awful lot of Canadian classic favs that deserve a list of their own.  So here it is, some of the greatest Canadian musical talent (in no particular order).

1. Bryan Adams 
2. Kim Mitchell 
3. Loverboy 
4. Steppenwolf 
5. Trooper 
6. The Guess Who 
7. Rush 
8. Blue Rodeo 
9. Jeff Healey Band 
10. Paul Anka 
11. Gordon Lightfoot 
12. BTO 
13. Triumph
14. Neil Young
15. Max Webster
16. Corey Hart
17. Lee Aaron
18. Tom Cochrane
19. Bruce Cockburn
20. Honeymoon Suite
21. Colin James
22. The Tragically Hip
23. Sarah McLachlin
24. Sass Jordon
25. David Wilcox
26. Bare Naked Ladies
27. Celine Dion
28. Alanis Morissette
29. Nickelback
30. Leonard Cohen

Since Canada is a country made up of small towns and independent radio stations, it's a marvel that we have some much exposure for local talent on our own airwaves, or is it.  Turns out, in true Canadian fashion, the government passed a law to promote our own talent within our borders.  The CRTC passed regulations in 1971 requiring our radio stations to have at least 25% Canadian content on the air.  In the eighties this went to 30% and in the nineties became 35%.   

Since I was born in 1972, I guess I can honestly say I was raised on Canadian music.  

It's Snowing...

At seven this morning as I got up, I happened to look out the window and see big white flakes fluttering about the backyard. Is that snow? No, it can't be.

For a brief moment, my denial insisted that perhaps if was ash, maybe someone had a burn barrel going...alas, within a few moments it was snowing heavily and there was no mistaking it for anything other than snow.

It didn't last long, not more than fifteen minutes and it melted on contact, but still, snow is snow and this is April! I know, I shouldn't complain over a few flurries, especially when the east coast has been hit all week with storms and squalls.

That's life in Canada I suppose. Sigh.

Care to Not Comment?

Would anyone care to not comment about anything at all. I browse through the web and I am completely overwhelmed at the amount of opinions, objections, speculations and grievances there are out there.

Don't get me wrong, everyone's entitled to an opinion, but I suspect the anonymous nature of the internet has stirred up some intense comments that would have otherwise been considered impolite for public discussion. In everyday society we always find a few people who can't keep quiet to save their life, but on the internet, even the most conservative and polite gain an online persona and spew about anything and everything.

Honestly, if you wouldn't say it in a face to face, real live, might get punched in the head for saying it scenario, then who are you kidding by being so bold in type? Yourself?

I recently read an article that basically called all Muslims terrorists, who are bound by their religion to kill any person who does not follow the same beliefs . No, I am not a Muslim. In fact, I don't know much about the religion. I do however work with a few people who are. Despite outlandish claims to the otherwise, my co-workers have assured me that I am perfectly safe among them, and they are not waiting to secretly ambush me and put me to death for my Christian beliefs. They did however indicate that they are required to pray several times a day, so add that to the regular family and job obligations, they really don't have any spare time to go around killing anyone anyway.

Every religion, race, nation and culture has its shameful extremists. Think about slavery, the slaughter of North America's native peoples, the Church's attempt to wipe out devil worship in earlier centuries through means that can only be labelled torture. How about the Salem witch trials, or better yet, the holocaust. The history of mankind is rich with examples of our willingness to jump on the bandwagon and purge the world of those we feel are unfit, unworthy or beneath our standards.

Since the dawn of time, it's always been one tribe against another, fighting for dominance. We may have advanced in many areas since the stone age, but our moral compass clearly has not. Why can't we just let each other be, to live, grow, love and worship as they choose? Honestly, what is wrong with us?