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thoughts on life, parenting, news, and crazy shit

Category: family

Dear Manitoba, start enforcing restrictions or STFU

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Fuck restrictions.

Honestly. Closing retail spaces and restaurants and gyms again isn’t going to do anything further unless a few other things happen.

  1. Close the borders for real. Redefine what essential is and make sure that you monitor it. Yes, the variants are already here but adding new sources of infection is just plain dumb.
  2. Go to remote learning, at least for high school. Stop allowing team sports to practice. This is one of the fastest growing age groups spreading infection, and the data showing limited spread in schools no longer applies as variants are changing the game.
  3. Vaccinate everyone who works in a manufacturing or factory setting. These people are essential to supply chains and work in small, poorly ventilated environments and have a high proportion of new Canadians or folks living in multi-generational homes. This immediately makes close contact numbers high, exposes those more vulnerable, and continues to put at risk those that have no other alternatives for income, no sick benefits and do not have the option of working from home.
  4. Mandate anyone who is able to work from home to WORK.FROM.HOME.
  5. Vaccinate teachers.
  6. Vaccinate bus drivers and taxi drivers.

And here’s the big one:

It really does not matter one bit what restrictions you impose if people refuse to follow the rules. Increasing the restriction levels does nothing but further punish those who are already doing their best: wearing masks, limiting contacts, only seeing people outside their household outdoors, limiting non-essential activities. The people who aren’t doing this and are organizing anti-mask rallies, or spreading mis-information online, having personal gatherings, and basically anything else to effectively thumb their fucking noses at public health officers will continue to do so no matter what rule you make.

They are LAUGHING at you.

To be honest, we all are. You sound like a bunch of idiots. Nobody trusts that you know what you are doing or are prepared to actually back up these rules.

Until this government gets out there and actually enforces the rules they are making, not one of these anti mask “BUTMYRIGHTS” wads from a rancid dickhole is going to give a shit.

As we speak, there is an anti mask rally happening at the Forks. No cops, no bylaw officers in sight. Not one ticket being handed out, not one arrest being made. THEY.ARE.LAUGHING.AT.YOU.

If the Manitoba government wants people to take their Covid actions seriously, they need to get serious about them. Ticket every fucker who breaks the rules. They don’t pay the ticket? They can sit in jail until the 14 day quarantine period is over.

And I don’t want to hear anymore about how they are worried about people lying to contract tracers for fear of being fined. They are lying ANYWAY. If you had your shit together, you could easily investigate this.

Get your shit together, Manitoba. Or we are about to be Ontario, Part Deux.

On the subject of appropriateness and other bullshit

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I read something this morning that hit the nail on its fucking head.

https://bcmj.org/presidents-comment/nature-being-professional

Basically, this doctor in British Columbia talks about how we have these standards of “professionalism” and “appropriateness” and I swear to fucking god this man nailed it so hard.

I’m not a doctor, obviously, I am a teacher. A parent.

Both of these titles comes with this list of expected and accepted behaviours that people like to hold over your head not because they mean anything, but because it makes them feel better about themselves if they can have some criteria to judge you by.

“Teachers don’t get frustrated. They don’t get angry. They are always calm and patient and never swear. They engage in professional, arms length relationships with their students and their families. They don’t share personal experiences or stories. They don’t reveal personal details about faith or family or belief systems.”

“Parents have endless supplies of energy and selflessness and love. We shouldn’t yell, or consider ourselves. We are capable of knowing when library day is and whose laundry basket is full. We keep track of what time is swimming lessons and soccer practice and what day are we meeting friends at the park and who needs a new jacket and did you brush your teeth today and we’re almost out of ketchup. Our energy is endless and we take the time not to discipline our children but just have meaningful conversations with them and it’s ALL FINE ALL THE TIME HERE IS A NICELY EDITED PHOTO FPR SOCIAL MEDIA.”

It’s all fucking bullshit. They are impossible standards that are built on a mountain of lies we tell ourselves that do nothing but hide the truth about our personhood and all the beautifully real and messy thing that go along with being human.

Here’s the thing. The second you stop pretending that you need to live up to any of these standards is beyond liberating.

I literally break every rule, every fucking day.

Like Dr. Chow in the above article, I refuse to live behind a set of barriers between myself and my students and my children. I wear leggings and messy buns. I share my struggles and successes as a musician and a parent. I ask about their day and their feelings and I actually listen to them. I give them a safe place to fall without judgement.I say fuck in front of my kids and in the company of adults. I fuck up and get mad and take ownership of myself and say I’m sorry. I tell the truth about who I am every single day and in return, people feel like they can tell me the truth about who they are.

And while I may not be everyone’s favourite flavour at the ice cream shop, at least you know I’m not full of shit. Professionalism? No thanks. Realism? Yes please!

In return I feel an enormous sense of community around me. When my mom died two years ago, my students’ families took care of me, because I at some point had taken care of them. They fed me and cried with me and took care of my kids. When my dog died and my students came for their lessons, they hugged me and forgave me for being the worst teacher ever that week. When my students became teenagers and they needed an adult to be on their side when they made bad decisions and to give them advice, I was there. When they were hurt and needed help, they asked me. When my families were struggling as units, they shared their hardships with me and I loved them anyway.

When I was a terrible parent and was exhausted and shitty to my kids, the other moms reassured me. When I couldn’t find a solution they offered advice. They didn’t judge me. When they saw me failing or bitching or asking for help, they shared their own problems and complained in solidarity. We supported each other.

And honestly, I think being real and transparent and sincere is one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves and each other.

Personally, I don’t give a fuck about the details, as long as you own yourself. Being real and authentic can’t live in the same house as “appropriateness”.

And yes, I get it- there are obviously situations where we respect the boundaries and limitations of others. That’s a given. I’m just saying you can’t exist authentically in a bubble blown up on the expectations of others without being in fear of it popping all the time.

BE MESSY. BE HONEST.

Throwing shade at parents who can’t afford to “make sacrifices” to do a School Trustee’s job for free is Pallister’s latest gross thing

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“A great many Manitoba parents who are heroic in their behaviour make the decision to back their kids in their pursuit of a better life through education…….made sacrifices to make sure they were involved in their children’s education, read to their children, made the sacrifice of learning themselves…..”

These are the words our Premier chose to use when asked about how parents facing various social barriers to becoming members of school councils are going to have equitable voices with the proposed changes of Bill 64. As Dougald Lamont so eloquently pointed out, many parents don’t speak English, or work long hours or multiple jobs to make ends meet, and the reality is that communities lower on the socio-economic scale will be disproportionately challenged to find enough parent resources to take on the new responsibilities proposed in Bill 64.

The statement above is insulting at best and shows a complete lack of understanding of the struggles of many people in this province. Coming from a place of extreme privilege and refusing to see this Province through anything other than is his narrow field of vision, the Premier seems to be only capable of speaking from his own life of comfort without expressing any empathy or understanding for those who do not.

The average price of a house in Winnipeg is almost $300,000 and the average cost for a 2 bedroom apartment in Winnipeg is almost $1,300/ month. Minimum wage is $11.90. From my calculations, if you work 40 hours a week, your gross income is about $1,900/ month. Even if there are two parents in the home, working full time you are grossing $3,800. BEFORE tax.

Let’s assume that the parents have 2 children. According to http://www.numbeo.com, the average cost of living per person in Winnipeg NOT INCLUDING RENT is $1,137.22. Multiply that by 4, and add in rent, and you get $5,848.

Tell me, Mr. Premier, which part of their well being should the parents “sacrifice” so that they can do the job of trained professionals for free, because you think that we are all just lazy fools who don’t love our children? Should one parent quit their job to “back their children” and either forgo food, shelter, heat, clothing or transportation?

Tell me again, Mr. Premier how two parents working multiple jobs in order to just be able to scrape by are supposed to sacrifice anything else than they already have to prove your ideals?

On a personal level, I have struggled with being a working parent. My particular field of work involves almost exclusively annual contracts that are not protected by labour laws and have no guarantee on renewal depending on individual clients, the economic climate and funding. I acknowledge that this comes with the advantage of being able to decide how much work to take on and being able to schedule ( to a small extent) around my husbands rotating shift work. But it also means I have no sick time and any work I do not complete has to be made up or refunded. We were extremely fortunate to have incredibly supportive family (parents and chosen) that minimized our childcare costs, but most people are not that fortunate.

And you know what? We still struggled financially at times, even with both of us earning decent livings. We still made sacrifices. I worked a part time job on the weekends as a bartender just to help things along. Doesn’t leave much time for developing public school curriculum and disciplining teachers for poor performance, despite my efforts to be a “heroic” parent and do it all.

And even though I said a million times that I would have loved the opportunity to stay home with our kids, there was absolutely no way that was financially viable without tossing us into a situation where we couldn’t pay what is considered a very modest mortgage and living expenses.

We are now middle class, hard working parents, live full and busy lives, give our children every opportunity we can afford, and the AUDACITY of this Premier to insinuate that we aren’t prepared to make enough sacrifices to enable our children’s ability to thrive by doing the work of paid experts for free is absolutely ABSURD.

Some of us can’t afford to turn down a shift, or not accept a new client, or take an unpaid day off to do the job of a public education trustee or superintendent because our premier wants to throw ignorant insults at us. For the kids who are not thriving in the system, it isn’t because their parents aren’t willing to make sacrifices for them, it’s because we live in a province where our Premier is actively stacking more barriers in front of them. All while he insults their commitment as parents and gives the same old “family values, pull up your bootstraps” speech every right winger likes to throw at anyone who has ever struggled with something other than deciding which Caribbean Island to buy a vacation home on .

This has got to stop, Mr. Premier. You are way out of line, and should be ashamed of yourself and your absolute arrogance on topics you seem to know little about.

Apparently, Diva Cups and tampons ain’t got nothing on USB sticks in Manitoba

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Is anyone else confused about the statements made by the Hon. Cathy Cox when Uzoma Asagwara asked her whether or not the Conservative government would commit to making menstrual products accessible for all students in Manitoba Schools? The question was direct, but the answer seemed to be speaking about a completely different topic. Minister Cox rambled on about providing funding for USB data blockers to ensure safety while charging their computers or phones. As far as I know, no young woman has attempted to use a USB stick or a laptop as a substitute for a feminine hygiene product, and I am absolutely dumbfounded by the answer that was given.

Was this simply an avoidance tactic regarding a topic she had no satisfactory answer to, or does Minister Cox not know the difference between a vagina and a charging port? C’mon, honey….one is between your legs and the other is generally on top of a workspace. Unless…nevermind.

I mean, yes, they both have a few common characteristics. Both are holes that from time to time, need filling. One is typically smaller and more appropriate for the workplace. One is usually safe to play with in water, while the other may pose an unnecessary risk when wet.

Does anyone else feel a tad concerned that the Minister of “……and the Status of Women” was asked about the accessibility of menstrual products for students in our province, and she talked about keeping women safe from online dangers? Is it because of lockdown? Are the rules so strict that even Aunt Flo had to do virtual visits and Minister Cox is worried about women being conned by hackers?

Or am I missing the latest? I mean, is there some information available out there regarding the absorbency of USB sticks? Do they come in different sizes? Is there an applicator? Are they biodegradable? Can I safely use a data blocker on heavy flow days without worrying about leaks or embarrassing accidents? Will my IPhone help prevent toxic shock syndrome when safely charged?

Alternatively, perhaps Minister Cox felt uncomfortable with the topic. Perhaps she felt ashamed of menstrual cycles or didn’t want to offend any men in the room with period talk. Maybe the word vagina has been stricken from allowed language in the Legislature.

Or, maybe a tad more likely, there was an unwillingness by our government to address real concerns that are limiting to women, particularly those in challenging economic situations. Perhaps they forget that education is the best tool we have in preventing poverty cycles and that if young girls and women are having to miss school because they have their periods one week out of four, then in the spirit of equity we should support the solution- which is to make them available at school.

It really wasn’t a hard question, and the either ignorant or intentional avoidance of a conversation that should have been so obviously easy was fucking ridiculous.

DO BETTER.

Still In Love……

I’ve been seeing this Valentine’s Day challenge all over Facebook this week. Everyone keeps telling us the “details” of their relationship- how they met, where they first kissed, who said I love you first. You know, all the important memories.

It’s fun to go down memory lane like that.

Husband and I met at the Olive Garden. The Fucking Olive Garden. We both worked there…it’s not like he fucking picked me up over some all you can eat pasta fagioli and salad or anything. I was fresh out of a really yucky relationship that ended two years too late, and he was absolutely not interested in dating whatsoever.

But “I” was irresistible, OBVIOUSLY, and he showed up one night when I was working late and he was off with a case of beer and an invitation to go to a party. The party consisted of a bunch of the guys who worked in the kitchen and a whole lot of pot and some of the funnest times I have ever had.

Our relationship was instantaneous, but oddly evolved slowly at the same time. We were the best of friends, reluctant to say boyfriend, but eager to say I love you. It was easy and we were opposite in every single fucking way but somehow always ended up in exactly the same place.

I remember our first kiss on the doorstep of my parent’s house, and our first apartment, his marriage proposal after me explaining that it was time to get married, and all of the important milestones that couples everywhere document in their stack of photos and memories.

Perhaps more importantly though, I remember being this crazy girl that refused to be controlled and how he never ever tried to control me. He let me pound bottles of gin and dance on tables and slam on the brakes in the middle of the highway to look at a bird or get out and pat some horses in a field.

He always picked me up and fed me bites of his dinner across the table and made me laugh and walked right into my house without ever knocking.

And along the way we had our troubles. We both struggled with mental health and career changes and heavy, repetitive loss. We fought. We cried. We yelled. We swore we were not meant to be.

We had our babies and things got harder. We were tired. We neglected each other in order to survive individually. We almost gave up so many times.

But we didn’t.

A true love story isn’t about who is stubborn or drives better or falls asleep first and hogs the covers. It includes all of those things, but our story is about the things that brought us together and almost tore us apart,and the life that we have built.

In my forties, I realize that true love is not about butterflies and first kisses. It is about patience, commitment, tolerance and gratitude. It is about sacrifice and compromise. It is about acceptance and loving all of the parts of someone even when you don’t like them.

It’s about taking turns lending strength and letting shit go. Love means taking good enough care of yourself so that you can give the best of you to your partner.

And so we’ll carry on. I’m sure that I’ll be an absolute ridiculous bitch about something and he’ll tell me to go fuck myself and we will not speak for an hour sometime again in the really near future. Because we’re human. And it’s really, really ok.

We’ll still be in love after.

That is what a love story is.

Still being in love after…..

The Stages Of Gratitude

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I’m not entirely sure about this, but I feel like getting older makes you more thankful.

When you’re a child, you have this completely reasonable expectation that all of your shit is just taken care of for you.   You assume that the world just revolves around your happiness, and for a while it seems like it certainly does.  Gratitude isn’t on your radar, because you just require your needs being met since you aren’t able to meet them on your own.   It’s your responsibility to grow and learn and become.  

And then you’re a young adult, and you are thankful for some things, but you also feel this insane sense of invincibility that makes it hard to pause and be grateful for the people in your life, and your health, and the ability to stay out drinking all night, nap for an hour, brush it off and go to work at a reasonable functionality the next day.

And then you become middle age, and you maybe have children of your own, and you start to learn what it is to appreciate something just for existing.  Or maybe you see your grandparents and parents starting to age, and you realize that time is no longer infinite like it was in your youth.  And that you need to soak in the moments around you and be thankful for the time you have to love and be loved on this earth.  Or maybe you start to see your friends struggle with their health, or their relationships, or addictions, or traumas, and you start to feel this quiet gratitude for the simplicity of your own life.  For the lack of adversity. For the lack of conflict or illness or things to be afraid of.

You read the news and start to realize how important your civil and human rights are, and how they can be at risk in an instant.  You are thankful that you have the privilege of living in the community you do, with basic comforts like running water and electricity and too much food on your plate.

Maybe it’s a maturity, or maybe it’s perspective that leads to this gradual understanding of what true gratitude is.   When I ask my tiny humans what they are thankful for they think it relates mostly to *things*, but in my world it relates more to *them* and feelings and purpose.

To all of my people, I am thankful for you.   For having you in my life and for the things I’ve learned from loving you all.   To the ones I’ve lost, I am thankful that I have grief to remind me of love.  To the ones who are struggling, I am thankful for the reminder to appreciate and invest in the important things in my life.   To the clock of life that seems to be moving faster, I am thankful for the reminder to love each moment and for all the memories that creates.

Happy Thanksgiving, Bitches. x

To All The Sancti-Mommies Out There: Just Don’t.

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Pinterest

So last week I got caught up in an online discussion about ill behaved children in the grocery store.

A super observant, knowledgeable, and childless woman made all sorts of comments about how inappropriate it was for the parents to have tried to control their child’s tantruming by offering a bribe.   Or whatever.  She watched.  She judged.  And then she proclaimed her disapproval on social media like a total cow.

Anyway, the exchange pissed me off.  I am so tired of trying so hard to do right by my kids.  And having what feels like an army of Sancti-Mommies always screaming about how wrong I am for doing/thinking/feeling/trying/asking/wondering the things I am.  Or posting the “how you’ve fucked up your kids for good” article of the day.

And then there’s this new breed of Sancti-Non-Mommies who also want to weigh in on the discussion?   Because they took a few behaviour management courses that one time in University?

No thanks.

Also, fuck you.

So in order to deal with some of my feelings (don’t tell anybody I have feelings or I will cut you) , I have been trolling some of the mommy blogging sites in order to tell some of these bitches to suck it.

Does that make me a terrible person?

Maybe.

Probably.

But here’s the thing:  With the exception of the vaccination debate, where your choice does actually affect those around you I don’t actually give a fuck how you parent your child.

Like, not even a little bit.

What I’m interested in is hearing you share what works for you so that we parents can use each other as a resource when we are out of answers and patience.   Isn’t that what those sites were invented for?

Instead, everybody is Judgy-Judgering one a another and pointing fingers and making all sorts of assumptions about other people.   Throwing out accusations of violence and child abuse if you’ve resorted to spanking or chosen to circumcise your son.   The irreversable psychological damage you’ve done to your child by yelling at them.  How you’ve brain damaged them by allowing them to eat sugar.  Or how your kid will be smarter/healthier/better because you were able to breastfeed and I was just too lazy/selfish/stupid to do the same.

God.  We even get up in one anothers business for what kind of birth they had.

And my problem is not with what choices you make for your child.  My problem is with the choices you make about how you treat other people.  You may always speak to your child in a calm, respectful tone that explains your point of view and outlines your expectations.   You never raise your voice to them and certainly not your hand.   You are parent of the year in every way whose kid eats what’s on their plate, always follows the rules, never cries or tantrums, loves to grocery shop, goes to bed on time, puts their shoes on the first time you ask, cleans the house, walks the dog, all due to your awesomeness as a human being and in spite of the rest of us fuck ups down the street or linked to you on social media.  But when it comes to discussions about managing life as a working parent or disciplining your kids, we are all guilty of being class A bitches to one another.

This is such utter bullshit.  We all work our asses off to make our kids have the best lives possible.   And at some point we have decided that because something in our circumstance works or does not, it suddenly applies to every other human being out there.

IT DOESN”T.

So, to all the Sancti-Mommies out there:

Share your shit, but be realistic.   Be raw.  We can smell your entitled talk and insecurities a mile and a mouse click away.   You are not any better than the rest of us, you are just better at parenting YOUR OWN CHILD than the rest of us.  Stop acting like you have all the answers for everyone.   Stop making ridiculously overly dramatic statements about what another parent has chosen or tried or failed at.  Step off that high horse and let him go and graze in the pasture for a while.  Your burden of arrogance and judgement are too heavy for him to bear.

We. Are. All Doing.The Best.We.Can.

 

 

 

 

Still Getting Shit Done

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CBC

The other day I came across this post on Twitter ( or something….I honestly can’t remember the source because PARENTHOOD) of a mom who was tandem nursing her 5 week old twins, while working away on a laptop.   She made some sort of remark about being exhausted, not sleeping, barely functioning, but “still getting shit done”.

Well, honey.   Good for you.

I’m happy that she feels like she can get it all done.  A baby on each boob, not even  healed from the physical aspects of birth let alone the hormonal and emotional ones of becoming a mother, and happily working away.

Being ok with feeling like ass, and barely knowing what day of the week it is, and banging out some projects on your computer.

Jesus Christ.   What the hell is wrong with the world?

And no, I’m not shaming her.   If she wants to be a superstar human and do all of those things and is ok with that, then great.  Go for it.  Be the superhero.

I am lucky to live in Canada, where we have maternity benefits for up to one year after the birth of our child.   The first three months are maternity leave, and then the remaining nine months can be split with our partner pretty much any way we like.

Because even if if we can somehow find a way to work through the exhaustion, stay upright, and make sure that everyone is fed and the laundry is done and still get to work on time, why should we have to?  

In the States, many women get 6 weeks or even less of maternity leave.   Sometimes its completely unpaid.

And I can tell you from experience that going back to work 6 weeks after your baby is born is pretty much the biggest pile of shit ever.   Even when the person you are handing over care to is your husband.

As someone who is self employed, my babies were luckily both born in the summer and I went back to work when the school year began. Otherwise I wold have had no income, and no guarantee that my students would come back to me when I was ready to teach again.   It was so hard.   Because even though my husband was the “primary caregiver”  there is something very difficult to describe about the bond between an infant and her mother.   I was still getting up at night regularly.  I was still dealing with post partum anxiety and hormones.  I was still having a hard time with an unstable pelvis from the birth.  And there was nothing about being separated from my baby that made me feel good.

So, I have been in this woman’s shoes, and luckily for me and for her ( she is an artist) we are able to work primarily from home and decide what our ours of work are.

But what if you have a physically demanding job?   What if your career demands long hours?   High pressure?

We need to start taking better care of our mothers, and us mothers need to be ok with being cared for.

So the problem that I had with the woman’s post about “getting shit done”  is the implication that every woman should be able to and that it is completely normal to literally have a baby under each arm while doing your job.   It’s that this mom feels like she has to inspire other women that they can be a badass mom too.

What if they don’t want to be a badass?  What if you just want to be there for your children without feeling like you aren’t strong enough to balance a career alongside it?   What if you just don’t want the superhero to be the expectation of you?

I get it.   I have to work to.   But I will tell you hands down that the first year of a child’s life is mentally and emotionally exhausting and that having to work during it is not in everyone’s best interest.  There were many times that I felt on the edge.   Like on the fucking brink.

The US needs to get its shit together.   The reality is that many families simply cannot survive on one income anymore. I know we can’t.   But no woman should be forced to go back to work before her vagina is even done bleeding after the birth of her baby.   It’s beyond ridiculous.

All of us moms know we can “get shit done”.   Because we do.  But seriously.    You never ever get those weeks and months back.   The work will always be there waiting for you, but you will never ever regret focusing on your kids while they are tiny.   In that first year ( and beyond), I truly believe the only shit we should be getting done is putting ourselves back together while building a relationship with our tiny humans.   Seriously.   Just give us a break.

The bottom line is that women are constantly in this tug of war between career and family.   Much more so than men.   We are constantly having to sacrifice a piece of ourselves.   And usually, as apparent in the Twitter post about getting shit done, it’s the mom herself that is being sacrificed.   Why is it ok to feel exhausted and sleep deprived all the time?   Why is this how we become superheroes?

I guess for me personally, if there are three things on the table:   Myself, my child, or my job; and I need to sacrifice part of something to keep getting shit done, the first two choices should be non negotiable.

That doesn’t make me selfish.   That doesn’t make me a pussy.   And accepting that I should have to sacrifice my own well being is something I am no longer willing to do.   If I don’t take care of me, then the other two things suffer anyway.

So.  Make your own choice.  But ultimately, stop accepting less than you deserve and then cheering about how you can still make it work.   You shouldn’t fucking have to.

International Woman’s Day Is Every Day

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Wearing red for IWD 2017

Once upon a time, someone at a press conference asked Joss Whedon why he always writes such strong female characters and created stories about them.   ( not a direct quote, but you get the idea).

After a while he concluded it was because people are still asking him that question.

Do you ever notice that?   Nobody would ask a writer or producer or director why there are strong male characters, we just sorta expect that to happen.

But a strong woman character?   How odd.

Today, on International Woman’s Day, I want to acknowledge every single woman out there who has ever had to work twice as hard to get half as far.  I want to acknowledge every woman who made the tough decision to give up their career in order to raise their family.  The woman who gave up the idea of ever having children because the demands of her male dominated field would never tolerate it, no matter what the law says.

For every woman who has said no and had yes stolen from her.  For every woman who raised a child she never wanted and couldn’t afford but loved regardless while a man had the luxury of walking away.

Every little girl who was told she couldn’t, wouldn’t, and didn’t deserve to anyway.  For the little girl who grew up and said fuck that, and did it better than any man.

For every wife who stood by her partner and made it possible for him to succeed while receiving no credit for it.

For every time you wiped a snotty nose or changed a diaper or made it through another day without crying yourself to sleep from exhaustion and frustration while receiving no thank you for the life you are supporting.

For every minute of childbirth that you endured in order to bring the greatest love of your life into this world.

For every woman who ever looked in the mirror and hated herself.  For putting everyone’s needs ahead of your own.

And for every woman who decided what she wanted and got it.   For inspiring other girls and women to do better for themselves.

For every single woman out there, regardless of your heritage, your colour, your sexuality, your socio-economic status, your age, your education.   Regardless of everything.

You are worth more to this world than the world knows.  

Be strong, be demanding, and never ever back down.   Be resilient.  Be epic.

International Woman’s Day is every fucking day.   Joss Whedon gets that.   Be more like Joss Whedon.

 

Parents: Get Off Your Phone

 

Have you guys seen this yet?    The daycare that posted a sign telling parents to get off their phone when picking up their children?

Which side of the argument do you fall?   Can you justify the parents behaviour?   Has the daycare overstepped?

I’ll tell you what I think.

Parents, in this particular situation, I think you need to get off your goddamn phone.

Here’s why.   Your child has been waiting for this moment ALL.DAY.LONG.  As much as they love their friends and their school/daycare, they love you the most.   They want so badly to make you proud of them.  They need you to be excited to see them and make them feel like this is the moment YOU have been looking for ALL.DAY.LONG.

When I first pick up my child from daycare/school or a babysitter, those first few minutes are paramount to understanding the behaviour they display throughout the rest of the day.   It is important for you to listen to what they tell you so that you can support them if they need support, congratulate them on something they did that was new, or hug them if they feel sad.  You can’t assess the situation if you aren’t present in the moment.

And what I’ve learned personally, is that if I don’t give my child my full attention when I first see them, they will feel let down.   I will effectively rain on their parade, and set myself up for failure with them afterwards.

Now, hey, I GET IT.

I fuck around on my phone ALL THE TIME at the playground, or while they are entertaining themselves or even when I declare a 30 minute quiet time in the house.

And that’s totally ok.   You don’t need to be up your kid’s ass, entertaining them every step of the way through life.  They need to learn to work out some social  skills on their own too without you interfering.

But not that moment. Not that moment when they first see you after a whole day of being apart.   You need to make them feel like a priority in your life.

Tell your boss you’ll call them back.   Set a boundary that your child comes first.   That from 4:30-5:00 pm every day you are unavailable.

If the call is SO important, take it before going inside with a quick “I’ll call you in 30 minutes” ( unless it is an emergency).  And emergencies aren’t a change in soccer practice venue, by the way.

Let the school leave a message.  Let them call your partner instead.

Ask yourself if you were in a meeting at work, would you answer the phone?

Soccer, your parents, the vet, whomever can just wait a goddamn minute and learn some patience themselves.  We keep saying that we need to teach our children that the world doesn’t revolve them, so we can teach the adults in our lives the same fucking thing.   The world doesn’t have to revolve around your kids, but show them enough love and respect in this situation so that they KNOW they are important to you.

NOW.

TO THE DAYCARE.

Although I support the motivation behind the sign, I can’t tell you how grossly inappropriate the sign on the window is.

It is condescending, lacking respect, and downright fucking rude.   And if any child care worker or teacher dare speak to me about my parenting  in such a manner they would have no further contact with my child in a big hurry.  Because if they are going to speak to ME that way, the hand that is literally feeding them, how are they speaking to my child when I am not around?

Try something like this next time:

Dear Parents,

Please refrain from using your phone while picking up your child (unless in absolute emergency).  They are so excited to see you when you get here, and we feel like you can best support them by giving them your full attention.

The staff would also like the opportunity to speak with you as the need arises regarding any successes or difficulties that may have occurred during the day, illness or other special circumstances.

Thank you for respecting our space, and making yourselves fully available to us.

Have a great day!

Sincerely,

Director

 

Ok Bitches, what do you think?

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