Me and My Girls

Whoever decided that burning the bra was a good idea, obviously never had to lug around double D's. Perhaps you're thinking that there can absolutely be no reason to not be happy with "puffy pillows" (ever read Stephen King's novel "Carrie" where the coo-coo mother refers to her daughter's breasts as "dirty pillows"...YEESH!), but with age, sometimes I feel like these girls are ticking time bombs. And they get in the way when I'm trying to run, or dance, or pull weeds in my garden, or lay on my tummy. Nowadays they even get in the way when I lay on my back. haha

But I have to admit, being well endowed in that department certainly came in handy last week. I had to go for a mammogram and ultrasound because my doctor felt a little bit concerned, which of course in turn, made me feel a little bit concerned. Ok, I'll readily admit that I was whole heartedly freaked right out. But we're supposed to walk around like "everything will be ok", that it's just routine and that it's probably nothing at all....we're just being safe instead of sorry. So I spent a month convincing myself that it was nothing, and then when they cancelled my appointment because their machine was on the fritz, I had another whole month to think about what nothing it was. But when my hoo-haws are flopping around incessantly, it's really hard to pretend they're not there and that they might be holding more than they should be.

And you've all heard the mammogram horror stories, of how your boobs gets squished so much in the machine that afterwards you have to roll them up like those leather fruit roll-ups that kids eat, and tuck them back into your bra. And I don't know about you, but I had this image of an old battle axe, telling me to toughen up, while she slapped my breasts around like Silly Putty being bounced off the walls. What am I... a squash ball? And I figured her hands would be really cold and dry and scratchy, and she'd grunt a lot, which would lead me to trying to interpret her Neanderthal language as "lump or no lump"? But it wasn't like that at all.

Obviously, these professionals know that women are walking in to this joint highly sensitized. I think I shed my first tear when I was putting on my gown in the change room, and they just kind of continued to roll spontaneously, quietly, throughout the course of each test. And as time passed, I felt more and more assured that not only had it been a good idea that I had these tests done, but that I would probably not be coming back for hopefully a good long time, if ever. Whew.

And I actually laughed. I laughed when I glanced down at my poor squished ta-ta and exclaimed that it looked like a boobie pancake. The technician said she sees about 20 boobie pancakes a day. That's ten women per day that go through the same process I went through, and we all know that ten women don't get the same results that I did, but I really wished that it was that way.

Because really, our breasts are such an incredibly important (and sometimes even powerful) part of our body. I found myself having boobie flashbacks...checking them out as a child in the bathtub and wondering what the heck they're for, or the first snap of the bra strap by the loser that sat behind me in grade seven...And what about those God awful training bras that we had to wear, which was basically a cropped off undershirt with an elastic band around it?! Talk about humiliating, especially when others noticed it underneath your clothing and teased you for actually growing. How weird is that to be teased about growth? I thought about those awkward moments as a teenager with my boyfriend. I thought about the power that breasts could hold over another person. I thought about the importance of nurturing and nourishing my beautiful new baby boy. I thought about the horrifically painful mastitis,and I thought about that stupid breast pump and those ridiculous breast pads. I thought about how my boobs exploded when I was getting my hair done and it took longer than usual and I needed to get home to feed my son....KA-POW! Man, breasts are loaded milk guns during lactation time. I thought about bathing suits; some better than others. I thought about the hilarious fitting experience with my best friend at a Victoria Secrets store in New York...it's amazing how many memories can actually be attached to mammaries.

So don't be afraid to have the tests done. Have the tests done, no matter how scared you are. It really didn't hurt at all, and I'm not just saying that to convince you to get it done. It felt the same way that it feels when you get your blood pressure tested on your arm. The technician says that most people think that it hurts simply because their prior knowledge from other women tells them so. She says that the women are just so freaked out by foreign machinery and by the prospects of what they might have, that they just can't stand anything touching them, and that causes a lot of stress. I think my "girth" (ahem) came in handy as well, because squished fat just doesn't feel the same as squished muscle. You should also keep in mind that pain goes away, as does the memory of it. Think of all the women out there that have had many, many children. And delivery hurt like a bitch, hands down...but we keep on doing it because it's important.

And you're important. Take care of yourself. If you're feeling unsure of what you're body is doing, go and get your girls checked out 'cause you still have jobs to do, Sista! (And they probably do to!)

Life is Like a Box of Chocolates….

As a teacher, I have learned some very important things about children. The biggest lesson I have learned is that children do not come with a manual, and they are practically impossible to figure out at the best of times. You never know what you’re going to get. Just when you thought you’ve developed a rapport with a student, they’ll turn around and egg your house. Just when you thought a student couldn’t possibly hate you more than they already do, they give you a box of chocolates at Christmas time and thank you for “putting up with them”. So, I’m certainly not an expert, and have yet to figure out “the teenage beast” as I’ve heard them being referred to in the past. I’m sure I never will. But I know one thing….I know that there are some kids out there that are raising themselves. And there are kids out there that feel they have absolutely nobody to talk to about their life. There are kids out there that would have been someone completely different than they are if they had been given a different path in life and didn’t have to meet so many daily struggles. From my personal perspective, from the experiences I have had with children, this is what I feel children need in their life:

1.       Parents that don’t assume that their children know they are loved. Children need to be told they are loved…daily. “I love you” never gets old to a child.

2.       Parents that do not choose their child’s religion for them. Just because a person has a specific faith doesn’t mean that their children should. Religion shouldn’t be a tradition; it should be an intrinsic, personal belief. If they feel their child should have a religious upbringing, perhaps they should share the religions of the world with them, and let them make their own choices with that breadth of knowledge when they’re good and ready. This will not only tap into their understanding of the world historically and geographically, but may even help to create a sense of empathy and tolerance for other perspectives and beliefs. Isn’t it incredible how much hatred is created in the name of religion?

3.       Parents that read books with their children, starting when they’re in the womb. I just heard a great documentary on CBC radio about how fetuses hear sounds/voices while in the womb and this actually influences the tonation of their cries. Babies cry differently in different areas of the world. So, they can hear you. Start reading to your belly button and your little bambino may come out reciting Chaucer. There is absolutely no reason why a child should go through life struggling with text. Reading opens the world to endless possibility and that opportunity is available to all children.

4.       Parents that let the dog kiss their face even though they lick their bum (er…the pet, that is!). This shows children that pets are an integral part of the family and deserve the same amount of love as everyone else.

5.       Parents that realize that just because they want it, doesn’t mean that their child should get it. Yearning and working for something isn’t such a bad thing. Sometimes that creates motivation.

6.       Parents that realize their child deserve breakfast every single day. Better yet, that their child deserves three healthy square meals a day that do not ooze out of plastic packaging. Better yet, these children deserve to eat this meal with at least one family member that wants to know how their day was and what they learned in school and if everything is alright in their world.

7.       Parents that don’t call their children derogatory names, even if they think they’re teasing. Children don’t have the same capabilities as adults to understand the nuances of ribbing someone. Those jokes are usually taken very seriously and lead to low self esteem. I don’t know anybody that thought being called “stupid” was funny and didn’t impact their life in some way.

8.       Parents that aren’t afraid to act goofy and stick cooked spaghetti up their nose and pretend they’re a swamp monster, or get their butt kicked in a wicked game of “Go Fish”.

9.       Parents that don't tell their child to choose a career path because “they’ll make good money”. They should let them choose a career path that is linked to their interests and passions. Happiness will follow, as will money, or something else of equal value.

10.   Parents that make their children lose some times. That’s life, and the sooner children figure that out, the easier it will be to accept that life is full of pockets of loss here and there. How we deal with loss can be life changing.

11.   Parents that nurture their children’s changing interests. One day they may want to be a hockey player, one day they may want to be a rock star. It doesn’t have to cost money to see if they are truly interested, especially when there are libraries around. Or imagination. It’s amazing what can happen when children are just given the liberty to use their imagination without feeling embarrassed or ashamed or humiliated.

12.   Parents that don’t judge their child’s appearance or anyone elses appearance for that matter.

13.   Parents that take their children on trips with them, even when it means packing extra food, extra supplies, extra everything. These parents also don’t mention the effort that they have gone to for this trip to happen so that their children don’t feel like a burden or forced to enjoy every modicum of this journey. Sometimes those trips end up just sucking, and it has nothing to do with the child.

14.   Parents that expose their children to variety; different settings, different music, different books, different people, different perspectives, without judgment. Can you imagine how unsettling it would feel to have an opinion about something, but you don’t feel comfortable saying your perspective because you’ve been bombarded with what you have been told to believe?

15.   Parents that laugh at their mistakes and make their children realize that they are human beings, and human beings make mistakes. What a wonderful lesson for children to realize that mistakes create growth and development if you look at it from a positive perspective.

So, those are just some of the things I think of when I think about my own experiences with children of varying age levels. Believe me; I am far from perfect…far, far, far. I have made mistakes with my own child and have regrets about some of my actions as a parent, a teacher and a human being in general. Being a parent/teacher/human being is an ever changing event, but it is through the seemingly innocent actions and words of my students that I have learned the importance of truth and compassion. Those kids are awesome, even with their manic moodiness and extravagant idiosyncrasies and if it can help me to be a better parent and teacher, I’ll take it. I’m thankful for every one of them.

www.kidshelpphone.ca

RAH! RAH! SIS-BOOM-BAH!

Have you ever had one of those days where suddenly you are transported back in time, like you're having an incredibly durable, time warping deja vu? That happened to me today at good ol' Red Lake District High School, as I was, along with about 300 other students, swept away on a wave of school spirit that hasn't been felt at that school for an incredibly long amount of time. *Flashback to grade 10, catching up to the opponent who is dribbling the ball down the court. I've almost got her as I go in for the pick, and I step on the back of her foot, twisting my ankle, and fall down swearing abominations in front of the whole school. I broke my leg. Nice.* But it was a different story today fortunately, as our school headed down to the gym to watch the senior girl RLDHS Rams basketball team take on the Nipigon Red Rock Lakers. As if a synapse exploded in a part of my brain, instantly I was painting warrior stripes on my face, adorning myself with any red and gold clothing I could find (I changed twice this morning....you should have seen what I originally had on...yikes!), hammering a wooden spoon on the side of a soup can, and blurting out HUSTLE, HUSTLE, USE YOUR MUSCLE, GO RAMS GO! Where the hell did all of this come from? I'm the art teacher for crying out loud! I'm stereotypically supposed to HATE sports, aren't I?

I'll admit, there is a part of me that definitely begrudges all of the extra attention that the sports community gets, especially as I'm in the process, along with a group of dedicated ladies, of getting an artists council up and running in our district. We had to cancel a workshop that we're offering this weekend because we only had 6 people in the whole community sign up. Six. All we were asking for was 10. When my art students did a drumming workshop last year and we hollered down the hallway for everyone in their classroom to come to the cafeteria to see our routine, only two classes out of the whole school came to see what was going on. And it was a really cool drumming routine. I was super proud of those kids. Artistically, our community is definitely lacking support where we need it the most; from our regular, every day community members.

Ironically, from the "talk on the streets", it's also what our community members say they crave the most. They want more music, more art workshops, more displays, more creative opportunities. Supposedly, some of our community members (and I use that term loosely) crave artistic culture so badly, that they have been given package deals from their employer to fly out to Winnipeg for only $99 (return fare) so that they can take in some of the creativity that Winnipeg has to offer. Well, how does that help our community? How does that bring us all together? Why isn't that money being used to bring artists and musicians into the community instead, and these lucky fellows that work for this establishment perhaps can get a discount ticket price from their employer? It's all being flown away instead.

So when I'm sitting in the middle of a wacky, frenetic basketball game with a herd of 300 cheering teenagers, I am amazed; not so much by the game and the players themselves (eventhough they were phenomenal and came back from a 3 or 4 basket loss to win the game by 2 points!) but by the incredible support and sense of community that is there in that room. What a sense of camaraderie! What a feeling that we can conquer anything if we all work together for a common cause! And perhaps you shudder, thinking, Right! Like a bunch of rah-rah-sis-boom-bah teenagers are going to make a difference in our community. Like anyone is going to make a difference in our community. But if you had been there, you would have seen the potential that was there. You would have seen the positive energy that radiated in that gym, and you would have seen the opportunity that our district has if we can capture the excitement of these youth and apply those sentiments to the actions of our community. It's there, rumbling, just below the surface.....

Thunder, thunder, thunderation
We're the Red Lake delegation
When we fight with determination
We create a sensation!

Couldn't that easily become a community mantra? This district isn't just a place to work; it's a place to live, and share, and support. Those kids get it; and I hope to hell that they stick around and bring that energy back into the district, where it belongs.

GO RAMS!

Pickled Religion

Imagine that you and I are are strangers. Perhaps I've opened the door for you at the post office once. Perhaps I saw you dancing at a social with a mutual friend. Perhaps we both reached for the same kind of apples at the grocery store, but that's about all we know about each other; we both like juicy, crunchy apples. Now, with that thought in mind, imagine that I unexpectedly knock on your door while you're still in your pajamas. I push past you and run to your bedroom, and snuggle under your sheets. Or I walk into your kitchen, open the fridge and take a pickle out of the pickle jar with my fingers. Or I go to the bathroom with the door open and ask if you can come and turn on the fan. Pretty intrusive, intimate and unexplainable, wouldn't you say?

Well, that's how I see it when people from specific religious sects come knocking on my door reading scriptures from the bible to me. A couple just came to my door. She first asked if she woke me up, but didn't really mind if she had. Her God obviously had a mission. Then she said, "Well, you know why I'm here and I'd like to read from the bible for you." My look of disdain must have triggered the next question; do you have a bible? When I said that I didn't, (It's on my to-do list...one day I'd like to read it) I was asked the next personal, intimate question through her shocked gasps, "DON'T YOU BELIEVE IN GOD? ARE YOU ATHIEST?!" *sigh* Would it have been a sin if I had said, "None of your "beep'n" business?" Or perhaps I could have said, "Would you like to hop into my bed and we can talk about this there since we're getting up close and personal? How about having a pickle first..."

I don't have issue with the fact that this woman has found a religion that keeps her comfortable, and gives her solice and reason. I think that is fantastic. My issue lies in the fact that I am judged and deemed unworthy because my philosophy in that regard does not coincide with hers, and therefore, I am of lower status, a heathen, a sinner, and doomed for all eternity. And I didn't bother to share my perspective with her or give her an argument. I simply said, "I prefer not to share my beliefs with others. It's my own perspective." She walked away with her partner shaking her head, most likely thinking, there's another one going nowhere but down into the firey pit of debauchery.

Little does this woman know how intimately I have been connected to organized religion. Little does this woman know how I was raised. Little does this woman know that I have taken a phenomenal amount of art history courses as well, which always delves into the world of religion. Little does this woman know where my studies took me when I was questioning my faith as a young adult. Little does this woman know what my opinion is today. Little does this woman know me.....

And that's the thing, I don't spend my time throwing my opinion in that regard at others. Who am I to tell others what they should or shouldn't believe in? A person's relationship with their concept of God is so individualized that absolutely nobody can possibly be "right". I once had a priest tell me that if I lived in Poland, and crossed myself with my left hand, (I'm left handed) they would have cut it off. I once had a woman tell me that I am a sinner because I have tattoos. My body is not pure. I didn't tell her that I think she's a sinner because she eats highly processed food or that she uses Saran Wrap. And yes, I can see the hypocrisy in the fact that I am writing a biased, opinionated blog that pushes my opinion on you, the reader. BUT I am not telling you that you are wrong, or bad, or unjust, et al if you do not agree with my opinion here. You simply pick apples from a different barrel, and that's your prerogative. I won't walk away from you shaking my head in disgust of your choices. That would be judgemental.

Isn't it ironic that the universal concept behind religion is to create a sense of peace and unity and acceptance in the world?

You Don't Know What You've Got ('Til) It's Gone

You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

We've all heard the adage before, and we've all said a resounding "Yup" to our own experiences with loss, but it still goes without say that for some mysterious reason, that simple yet extremely complex concept gets completely vanquished and decimated from our grey matter at times of importance (or when there is a full moon...or both...). And it's usually in those exhilirating yet tumultuous moments that there seems to be lack of consequences, or remorse. Think of your virginity. That should put this concept into perspective. I don't think I've met too many people (wait, let me rephrase that) I don't think I've met anybody that had mind blowing, highly orgasmic, sensual sex on "the big V" day. It's something that is reflected upon in adulthood and we say "Yeesh! What was I thinking?" You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

So let's get our mind out of the gutter now, and apply this concept to other areas of our life. I go through random acts of feng shui (which I am highly aware is an oxymoron) where I decide to cleanse my home of clutter and try to create a sense of balance and openness so that energy can positively flow through. That's a nice way of saying I get rid of shit that's cluttering up my house so I don't go bonkers. I am very conscious of what I get rid of and definitely consider where this "stuff" is going to go. I have stuff that needs to be returned to friends and family, stuff that needs to be sent away, stuff that needs to go to the second hand store, etc. If you know me by now, you know that I don't like throwing anything away that can still be of good use to somebody. But it never fails, ever, that as soon as I throw that little something or another away, I end up looking for it the next week. It is usually something that has been in an art supply pile in my studio since I was twelve. It's usually something completely ridiculous like purple feathers, or a deck of cards from Mount Rushmore, but suddenly my son is coming home saying, "Hey Mom! Do you happen to have a cool souvenir from the seventies that is somehow connected to famous, man-made, mountain sized, sculptures? 'Cause I need something like that for my Social Studies class. Oh yeah, and I thought I'd make you a craft out of purple feathers because I love you soooo much, Mom." Murphy's Law. As soon as you lose ten pounds, you wish you didn't give your friends all of the clothes that didn't fit you. As soon as you get rid of something, you wish you had it back.

You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

As humans, we easily dispose of other people as well, (emotionally that is!). Some by choice, and sometimes we are not given a choice. We go through cycles with friends and family members, and at times feel that we are making the right choice to "rid" ourselves of that person for our own good. But that too can come back to bite you in the ass. I didn't realize that I had so many questions to ask my grandmother until she was already gone and it was too late to learn about our family history from her perspective. I didn't realize how long I had gone without talking to one of my closest friends until she ended up in the hospital with debilitating health issues.  I didn't realize how much I would miss seeing my son every day until I had to look at his empty little snuggly bed in his star clustered little bedroom. I have been playing a big game of trial and error for the last 37 years, and it has definitely been difficult to deal with loss at times.

And then sometimes, when you realize what you've got, now that it's gone, all you can do is get down and funky and celebrate that loss. Those "Whew, that was close!" situations are also considerably important to reflect upon; those situations where you don't realize how dangerous or abusive or embarrassing a situation may have been until you removed yourself from it....a mundane job, a needy, one sided friendship, an unfulfilling relationship, a room full of crap, a horrible politician....haha Sometimes loss is good.

I guess it all comes down to appreciation and looking at different perspectives and taking the time to reflect before taking action in life situations. My goal is to get to the point where I don't have regrets; that I am solid in the choice(s) that I make and can reflect on them in years ahead and feel confident that my decisions were rational and thoroughly considered. I know that is highly unlikely because of factors such as the full moon, and my artistic temperment, and the wind, and the weather, but at least I can try.

I think I'm going to go and give my dog a good pet behind the ears and sneak a kiss to my son while he sleeps.