I'm not a tighty righty, I'm a lefty lucy, I swear!

Sorry, I haven't been posting many book related things lately. I'm kinda sucking at making time to read lately. My last bit of time at the lake was taking in AS MUCH LAKE TIME AS POSSIBLE, and not sitting in the cabin reading. I've made my last trip to the lake this summer worth it. We got to do everything we wanted and had a blast.

Once I got home the “work” really began. I had to wash the sheets of our bed 3 days in a row, which is annoying, and it's weird how sometimes when you have a baby it's tough to find time to transfer things from the washer to the dryer... and in this case also find time to put the sheets back on the bed. Just for the record. No. No one peed the bed, but Roland got a nasty scrape on his side from wiping out on his bike at the lake. Hasn't been an issue for a few days, but the day after I decide to wash the sheets because it's overdue, then he bleeds all over them. So I wash them again. The next night he wore a shirt to bed, and somehow he STILL managed to stain the sheets. What the hell, eh? I'd also managed to procrastinate on vacuuming, washing the handwash dishes, and washing the doggie laundry. Plus all of the lake related stuff, like the lake laundry, unpacking, replenishing the fridge... Plus, ya know, the whole baby thing...

So... not much time for reading...

I do have time to read the newspaper while I'm eating breakfast and lunch (most of the time). And on Friday, John Gormley's column caught my eye. Now, for those who aren't familiar with John Gormley, he is a right wing columnist who also has his own call-in radio show. Although I rarely ever agree with the guy, I can't say that I dislike him. After Jack Layton died last year, he wrote a really nice article about his experiences with Mr. Layton. He mentioned how they'd banter on air, but during commercials they would break out pictures of their grandkids. Most of his columns, I read the first few paragraphs and then roll my eyes at the blatant right-wingedness of it all and then move on. But Friday's column made me think “GOOD! I'm not the only one that feels this way!”...

Gormley's article was about one Shane Pattison, who was arrested and found to have over 4500 images and videos depicting child porn, some involving babies. (I followed this one because Pattison was a familiar face from the correctional centre. I find I do a lot now that I work at jail. I read the newspaper articles about the names or faces from jail that I recognize). When Pattison was sentenced, the paper kept referring to it as a “watershed moment” in Saskatchewan Law... now, I had no idea what that meant. Considering that the lawyers seemed pleased with it, I figured that meant that he was sentenced harshly... but only 5 years? That didn't seem to make sense. So I had to ask people, and sure enough, it's thought to be a strict sentence and it will probably be considered when sentencing future offenders. Gormley had a great line that fit my reaction perfectly... “Excuse me if I remain seated, unmoved by the self-congratulatory tone surrounding this sordid case”. A previous article I had read had stated that Pattison had knocked up his girlfriend and was talking to others online about how he planned to use the baby as a sex-toy. This guy is the WORST type of sexual predator! 5 years in the Penn will give him just enough time to make a few contacts with other offenders with similar crimes so they can meet up when they're released and share gross stuff. Who knows if he will get treatment while at the Penn and even if he does, will 5 years be long enough to ensure that he is sufficiently able to deal with his compulsions? I don't think so. Not to mention that the verdict is still out on whether people can be “cured” of this kind of disgusting pastime. And the worst part is that someone else's child will have to be a victim in order for him to go back to jail again. Not cool.

Gormley also points out that Canadian's will not be disappointed or oppositional to harsh Child Porn sentencing. When was the last time you heard someone say “Don't you think 20 years is a little harsh for someone that had sex with babies... and then took pictures or videotaped it.... and gave it to a bunch of people online who enjoyed watching it?” No. I guarantee that that has never been said by anyone. Gormely gives examples of 3 cases in the United States that are similar where the offender got, 18, 20, or 35 years in prison. Sign him up for that!!

Granted, I realize that the States probably has a phenomenally bigger budget for jails, but when the last Federal Election happened, the Conservatives were all about building more prisons... so... get on that! And throw Pattison in there for about 4 or 5 times longer than he was sentenced for.  

Feet are gross...

I hate feet.

People that are even remotely close to me know this about me because I don't keep secrets about it. I don't like people to see my feet, I don't like to see other people's feet, I don't want to touch other people's feet. The very concept of playing footsie under a table makes we want to puke. VERY few people have used it against me or tried to tease me with it. On those few cases I cried and would never trust those people with anything. Ever.

I hate feet.

I have no idea where or when this started. I remember being at the lake when I was younger and wearing flip flops, but never at home. But I also remember getting blisters between my toes every summer when I tried to wear them. HATED that. Did my feet hatred come from that?? Maybe.

I also remember my dad tickling my feet when I was really little until I almost puked I was laughing so hard. Is that the root of my foot hatred? Not likely, because I was REALLY little then, and didn't mind feet after that.

I think the most likely time that my foot-phobia began was the summer I found out one of my cousins had a foot fungal thing (Athlete's foot, maybe? I have no idea what it was). It looked awful. I was pretty grossed out by it. Another time that summer someone else told me that we sweat, like, 100 litres of sweat through our feet every day (ok, slight exaggeration, but I don't remember the exact statistic but it was gross, non the less).

The way I am, this probably prompted me to WAY overthink things about feet. For example, if people sweat more through their feet than any other part of their body, imagine wearing barefeet on the floor of a Karate Dojo or Dance studio. Disgusting. Or when you go over to someones house, and they wear barefeet in their house all the time, but you don't know how often they vacuum or wash their floors. I'd rather just keep my socks on, thank you. AND on top of that do you know this friends' house, Karate Dojo, or Dance Studio has NOT had someone with a gross looking foot fungus walking around with barefeet on it? Are those kinds of things contagious? Even if their not, I don't particularly want to walk around on someone elses' foot fungus. *shudder*

Here are a couple fun facts about my foot hatred phobia thing...

Fun Fact #1: I have only had one pedicure ever. I did not cry, but the technician kept telling me to relax. I went with two friends who thought it would rid me of the phobia thing. It did not. But I appreciated that they tried to help and went with me understanding we might very well be escorted from the premises if I kicked the technician in the face.

Fun Fact #2: I don't mind animal feet, or baby feet. This includes monkeys. I still don't want to touch them. But I don't mind seeing them. But I HATE seeing people feet. In fact, many of the pictures from my wedding that were veto'd from the posting or printing were AXED because you could see my feet (I wore flip flops because it wouldn't make sense to wear shoes on the beach in Hawaii). The exception is baby feet because I can't imagine them sweating that much or getting funguses that early. Babies are clean, so they are very inoffensive. Still, I have no intention of touching your baby's feet, and I will probably do everything I can to avoid their feet touching me.

However, consequently, I touch Rosalie's feet ALL the time. I play with them while she's on the change table, and while she's eating. I play This Little Piggy with her. And on occasion, I kiss her feet. I love her little feet. Don't ask me why. Don't ask me when it will stop. It just is how it is. Don't worry, this confuses me too.

So for any of you who may have ever wondered... there ya go.

One Year Ago Today...

... I found out I was pregnant with my little monkey.

I came to this realization unintentionally this morning, which I thought was kind of strange, because it really was such an important day. From that day on I knew my life was going to be SO much different. It's a date that I will probably remember for a long time, but won't ever mark on a calendar.

It also feels like it was yesterday. I remember how excited I felt when I saw those two little pink lines on the pee stick, but how I also kinda already knew. The confirmation was nice though. And how I just left it on the bathroom sink and when Roland came home, I just asked him to go take a look at the bathroom sink. He asked why, but I just said that he needed to take a look at it... then he was mildly annoyed that I didn't do it when he was home.

AHHH, such a great day...

Book First, Movie Second

This next read is another book that is being made into a movie. BUT, it's not a movie yet, so it's cosher. And just for the record, this is kinda how I roll. I always try to read the book first, and now there are a whole bunch of movies coming out soon that I want to see that are based on books. So, beware in the coming months, many of the future posts will be about movie-books.

This one I chose to read because I am a frequenter of the Internet Movie DataBase. When I watch a movie, I end up looking up the movie on IMDB.com and go through the cast and, if I don't recognize them from anyting else, see if I have seen them in anything before (sometimes it's a long time ago, or they look REALLY different), or if I recognize them I see what they have done lately that I might be interesting in watching. Anywhoo, this one seemed to keep coming up in searches everytime I looked something up. I think it started with Percy Jackson and the Olympians (or the Lightning Theif, I can't remember what they called the movie). I read the book, decided the movie wasn't worth going to in the theatre, but I found it in a $5 bin and thought that Brayden might like it, so I bought it. Watched it, it was pretty ok, looked up the cast on IMDB. The guy that plays Percy Jackson is going to be in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Look up the movie. “Hey! Emma Watson (Hermione from Harry Potter) is in it. Cool.” Then I went to see We Need To Talk About Kevin with some friends. I followed the procedure and, lo-and-behold, the guy that plays Kevin is in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Then I saw the preview for This is 40. “Hey, I wonder what else Paul Rudd has been in lately” And guess what! The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Also, when I was watching movies every night when Rosalie was just home from the hospital, I watched Heavenly Creatures and I knew Melanie Lynsky from Ever After, Sweet Home Alabama, Up In The Air, and a bunch of other slightly older movies, wondered if she was doing anything more recent, anyway... I'm sure you can see the emerging pattern.

When I went to order the book from McNally, the trailer for Perks hadn't been released yet, but I still wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get the movie cover. I was really lucky I went when I did because a bunch of people I used to work with were working and the Wonderful and Fabulous Aimee helped me order it, and she said it has been one of her favourites since, like, highschool or something. So I was VERY hopeful about this book because I really do trust her opinion. (and after 50 Shades of Grey, I needed something that was ACTUALLY good)

~*~

Standing on the fringes of life offers a unique perspective. But there comes a time to see what it looks like from the dance floor.This haunting novel about the dilemma of passivity vs. passion marks the stunning debut of a provocative voice in contemporary fiction: The Perks of Being a Wallflower. This is the story of what it’s like to grow up in high school. More intimate than a diary, Charlie's letters are singular and unique, hilarious and devastating. We may not know where he lives. We may not know to whom he is writing. All we know is the world he shares. Caught between trying to live his life and trying to run from it puts him on a strange course through uncharted territory. The world of first dates and mixed tapes, family dramas and new friends. The world of sex, drugs, andThe Rocky Horror Picture Show, when all one requires is that perfect song on that perfect drive to feel infinite. Through Charlie, Stephen Chbosky has created a deeply affecting coming-of-age story, a powerful novel that will spirit you back to those wild and poignant roller coaster days known as growing up.

One of the things I really appreciated about this novel was the format. More or less because I still don't have a lot of time to read when I'm at home. This book is written as a series of letters to an anonymous recipient from a boy named Charlie that is going into Grade 9 at the start of the book. The letters are generally pretty short (a page or two long), so even if I can only read one letter at a time, I'm still not leaving off in the middle of a section. Although I appreciate the format for my situation, I think it could have been used a bit better. You do see some progression in the writing style, but not anything particularly noticeable. I thought this was used better in the book Flowers for Algernon, where you see significant change in writing style and ability from the beginning to the middle, and from the middle until the end. I didn't really find that the format added anything to the story. It would have been just as good as a first person narrative.

This book crammed a lot of really hefty issues into one kid's life, but it really didn't seem like it was over the top. Charlie talks about rape, parental and romantic abuse, teen pregnancy, infidelity, homosexuality, teen drinking, drug abuse, suicide, and a bunch more things, but he's on the periphery of all of these issues. The story is set up nicely so that the reader doesn't necessarily see these things coming, but when they do it doesn't seem forced or rushed or just thrown in for kicks. You can really see how these characters get into these situations and why they are the type of people to do so. I really think this book is one of the best I have read that talks about all of these issues in a teen's life without making it seem cheap.

I really liked this book, if you think you may want to see the movie, read the book first, because from the trailer it looks like it might be a bit different and have to pull out some of the more interesting plot lines for time.

NEWSFLASH! Parenting is Hard

I think to most people, this is an obvious fact. I'm sure that there are a few people out there that think that parenting is just picking up your child when they scream, but most people realize that it is a bit difficult.

I'm also pretty sure that every future parent is informed of this prior to welcoming their little bundle, but never truly believe it until they are learning at a run...

I am one of those very parents. I think subconciously I always thought my baby would be the exception. The perfect child that never cried for no reason. That would sit happily in her bouncy chair while I made supper for the rest of us. That would make the sounds of her cries blatantly differently so that I can tell what she wants (something that sounds like "WWWWWWHHHHHHHHAAAAAIIIIIWAANTFOOOD!") I understood that MOST babies are fussy and difficult, but mine wouldn't be. No sir-ee!

But of course, this is not what happened. I have a daughter that cries for no reason sometimes. I have just fed her and put a new diaper on her, right after she has just woken up from a nap and she's crying like a crazy baby. So I pick her up, she cries. I put her down, she cries harder. I wrap her in a blanket, I dim the lights, I put music on, I read her a book, I take her to a look out the window for a change of scenery, I go bang my head against the wall, and nothing works. What ends up happening is that I give her to Roland, tell him I need a break, and start over again when she needs to eat.

I think one of the things that makes it so difficult is the inconsistancy. Things that worked yesterday, may not work today. Routines that you think are established go out the window on a baby's whim.

What prompted this post was this morning's routine.

I have been VERY blessed with how good Rosalie is generally. Bedtime is no longer a problem. A strict regement of no sleeping in the crib other than at bedtime, lights off in her room during and after her last feed, and nighttime story told in a soft voice directly preceeds being put in the crib, has made it so that within minutes of putting her in her crib at night, she's out. Now, how long and how many times she wakes up is completely dependant on how her day prior went, but she's still not that bad. Most of the time she's only up once, sometimes not at all, othertimes it could be 2 or 3 times.

But GENERALLY, she sleeps until about 9:00, even with these wake ups and stuff. Not this morning. No no no. She was up at 6:30 ready to go. I KNEW she didn't get enough sleep, because she was up in a big way at 3:30 and didn't go back to sleep right away. But she was kicking and smiling and cooing, so I knew it was going to be a tough sell at getting her back to sleep. But I was still REALLY tired. I was so tired my left eye was looking directly into my right eye. So I tried just lying her back down and "Shhhhh..."ing her, which generally helps, taking her to my bed to cosleep for a bit, rocking her in the glider, rocking her in my arms... nothing. So about 2 hours later I gave up, decided it was a lost cause and came downstairs to make myself some breakfast. At first when I put her down in her bouncy chair, she cried, which is pretty typical for her. SHE wants to decide when she gets put down and she was in a "hold me" mood. But she was fine so I started making toast and kept talking to her until she quieted down and I went to put jam on my toast and I look at her and she is FAST ASLEEP! By this time I am WIDE AWAKE! What the hell!?!?! It was seriously just a plan to foil me. I swear. But, what can ya do? And really, I can't complain about her. She is a fabulous baby. I know that so many have it tougher than I do. Ya just have to learn to cope. There is no other option. I just ended up napping this afternoon while she took one of her naps... not as good of a sleep with a 10 year old and a dog running around the house but I'll take what I can get...

Another challenging part of being a parent is the "step-parent" factor. When Roland and I started dating, Brayden was 5 and I was a novelty. He liked when I came around because I was different than the routine. When he was 6 and Roland and I moved in together, it was determined that Roland would do all of the parenting when he was with us because I didn't want to be expected to drop everything to babysit just because we were living together. As long as I had some notice, and Roland asked me nicely, I gladly would look after him. But I didn't want to just be the convenient babysitter by default. When he was 7 and we got primary custody of him over a crazy whirlwind week. I was obviously pleased (I feel his previous living situation was basically toxic), but things had to change. It was now a negotiation of our schedules in order to get him to and from school and to be sure that one of us was home at all times when he was there; Roland could not be expected to do it all on his own like he could with every other weekend and Wednesday nights. But still Roland maintained being the primary parent. Even then I was still somewhat novelty to Brayden so he behaved perfectly when he was in my care, but I heard about the bad stuff from Roland and his grandparents.

Then we got married. And everything changed. It was a tough change for Brayden. Although he missed his brothers and sisters at his mom's house, I think he liked being an only child at ours, so when we said we were getting married he was choked because he thought that meant that things would change for him. We didn't think they would, but he certainly did. This is when the pre-teen angst started. He was only 8 when we got engaged, 9 when we got married, but he had the teenage attitude already. Things got better for a while after the wedding. Really, nothing did change for him then, and I think he had gotten comfortable with that. But then I got pregnant with Rosalie and he was crushed. Being the oldest of several at his mom's house had made him somewhat resentful towards babies and he definitely thought he was going to be punted aside by the new baby that would be mine and Roland's. But when she arrived he was completely smitten with her. It has made things easier, but with the preteen angst in full throttle, and with me officially being a parental figure (as I have now popped out a baby of my own), a lot more anger is directed toward me than ever was before. I have yet to get the "You're not my real mom!" statement yet, but it's coming. I can tell. I get the scoffs, the brush-offs, the silent treatment, the rolled eyes, the stomping up the stairs to his room... etc. etc. etc. The problem with his age group is that they think they can take on the world, when, obviously, they just can't. And trying to convince them of that is like trying to teach a dog to juggle.

I'm not sure precisely which is a more difficult job; parenting the infant, or parenting the preteen? Being that the infant can't tell you exactly what they need, that makes it tough. But the preteen doesn't listen and questions every direction or request given, and "because I said so!" doesn't really cut it anymore.

It's a really interesting thing to consider: When they are in utero, you worry about them because you can't see them. When they are born, you worry about them because there are way more external factors to consider hazardous. When they are young children, you worry because they are not entirely dependant on you and can make choices on their own (and they may not be good ones). And once they are older children, you can't keep them in your sight all the time.

Parenting is hard. Don't let your subconscious convince you otherwise. But they say that anything worth doing is hard, right? And THAT I can totally agree with. Parenting is a perfect example of that :)