Reasons to move back to BC sooner rather than later

Today was a very exciting day.  Well, it was supposed to be.  This morning I registered Tristan and Ava for Kindergarten and was hit with some news that will change how our next year plays out.  As I've mentioned before, for a long time I was concerned about all-day everyday Kindergarten.  It's part of the reason we waited an extra year.  Our kids will turn six at the beginning of the 2010-2011 school year and we felt waiting that extra year would mean the kids were more ready for that level of energy output, social responsibility and information.  Our kids are so excited for Kindergarten and we have talked it up in a big way; getting to stay all day; getting to play on the playground everyday; getting to go to gym class everyday; getting to eat lunch at school. We even bought the kids snazzy, and ridiculously on sale, backpacks that have lunchboxes attached to them special for eating lunch at school. Those are the things they are most excited about.  And now, it is not an option.

At a time when BC is implementing all-day everyday Kindergarten for all their schools over the next two years, Alberta is cutting education funds.  I was a resister of full day Kindergarten (FDK) but became a believer when I read some of the benefits.  Kids in FDK have greater literacy and numeracy.  Their reading comprehension and general learning skills are better.  They make significantly greater progress in learning social skills.  There is more time for the teacher to spend with each student, more time to get to know the student and assess his/her progress and adequately meet the students' needs.  They spend more time in creative activities, more time engaged in active, child-initiated small group activities as opposed to a large group learning model.  All good things!

Medicine Hat has run this program successfully for five years but it has not been provincially funded.  The province funds a half-day and our local school board has provided the funds for the other half-day.  Thanks to all the cutbacks in education our school board will need those funds for other things, like maintaining classroom sizes.  Today when I dropped off the kids' registrations the Principal had just returned from a school board meeting and asked if I had five minutes to chat.

What the school board is proposing is A) to keep FDK at a cost to parents of $280 per month per child or B) go back to half-day Kindergarten which could mean five half-days or every other full day. Besides the fact that I believe FDK should be provincially-funded for all of Alberta I would 100% rather have free half-day Kindergarten.  Do the math. If option A is chosen Kindergarten will cost us $560/month.  $560 a month is more than our monthly grocery budget, and more than half of our mortgage payment.  I would have to get a job to put our kids in Kindergarten and then have to pay childcare for my two-year-old.  And did I mention the $280/month/child is not tax deductible because it's for education and not child care?  The whole thing is ridiculous!

If I could, I would choose half-days that look like every other full day to get the best of both worlds.  But here's the kicker.  I don't get to choose.  Oh I get to tick my preference in a box on a sheet of paper but I don't get to choose.  I know people who are currently spending over $1000/month on Montessori.  They both work full-time. $280 for full-days would be a deal compared to paying for child care for half-days.  Part of the reason FDK was implemented here in the first place is because so many families are dual income that parents were having to go to extreme lengths to get their kids from school to daycare and it was not unusual to see cabs lined up along the school yard.  FDK eliminated that.  And now we're back to square one.  Only this time people have had a taste of FDK and I think they'll fight tooth and nail to keep it.

I am frustrated and feel totally helpless. Yes, I have a voice, but I know very well how small that voice is.  I feel like I am at the mercy of people who have chosen to work full-time rather than be at home with their kids and are therefore in a higher income bracket than I am.  I respect their right to make that choice.  I only ask that they respect me for the choice I have made.  Alberta's Budget 2010 website says that this years budget "strikes the right balance between fiscal discipline and protecting health care and other priority programs".  It's sad, unfortunate, and short-sighted that education for our children, the future of this province, is not considered a priority program.  Then again neither is our carbon footprint.  But that doesn't matter.  Climate change doesn't really exist anyway.  Right Cypress?  Right Whistler?  Right BC?

Surprisingly Did Not Require Ice Cream

Okay so remember that paper I applied to?  I called about a week or so after the close date and found out they filled the position.  After referencing the wrong paper in my cover letter I wasn't surprised that I hadn't heard from them but I asked the Editor if I could come in and talk to him about my submissions and give me some constructive criticism.

I met him at his office a week later and he pulled out my submissions and we sat down to chat.  He flipped through them briefly then looked me in the eye and said, "Basically, I just don't like your writing style."  Ouch.  I totally felt like the girl who auditions for Idol because her friends and family all tell her she's such a good singer and then Simon looks at her and says, "Trust me this business is not for you.  You actually can't sing.  At all.  Seriously."

This editor then went on to an abstract discussion of art, and how sometimes people put pins in a barbie and call it the existence of man but that just that morning his dog, and I quote, "laid a tight coil on my front yard and we called it steamy".  I thanked him for his time and walked back to my van and sat there for awhile.

For as long as I can remember I have been paralyzed by a crippling fear of failure.  I always wanted to do highschool theatre but I never did.  I was afraid I wouldn't get any callbacks after auditioning.  After highschool there was a theatre program at a school in Vancouver that I really wanted to apply to.  I got the forms and I partially filled them out and then, I just didn't finish.  I was so afraid of the audition process, so afraid of being told no that I never even applied. And I have lived some version of that story over and over as the fear of failure, of rejection, has kept me from ever attempting to chase down whatever dream is in my heart.

For a long time now I have dreamed of writing and it was only this year I had the courage to put myself out there.  And then I was rejected.  The thing I had always feared most in the world happened.  Technically, I failed.  Not only did I not get the job, I didn't even get an interview.  Not only did I not even get an interview, the Editor said he didn't like my writing style.  At all.  Now put that ice cream back in the freezer because this is where it gets good.  When I failed, when I was rejected, when I was told I wasn't good enough the world didn't come to an end.  It didn't change the axis on which it was rotating.  It didn't get sucked into a black hole.  And, most importantly, it didn't make me want to give up; didn't make me want to crawl into bed and pull the covers up over my head; didn't make me vow never to write another word.  It didn't even make me want ice cream.  Okay, whoa!  Let's not get crazy here. I always want ice cream.

I guess what I'm trying to say is the anticipation of failure and rejection was much worse than actually experiencing it.  And now?  That fear no longer has the power to keep me from chasing my dreams.

Landscape of a Dream

Well Canucks?  Are you feeling patriotic?  I am.

I know there has been a lot of controversy surrounding the Games of Vancouver 2010.  There have been complaints and protests about the taxpayers dollars and the $177 million that went into a training initiative for our athletes. I get that. But on the other hand if you were able to attend any of the torch relay celebrations as the torch crossed our country you stood madly waving little red flags, cheering at the top of your lungs, in a sea of people, whose hearts were all united behind one idea: Canada.  Our home and native land. In the words of Shane Koyczan, "an experiment gone right." I think more than a sea-to-sky highway, more than better transit and sport facilities in Vancouver, more than exposure to the world, what the Olympics is doing is bringing us together and helping us define our nation.

As Canadians we are often criticized for being unpatriotic, especially compared to our American counterparts.  We rarely sing our anthem at the top of our lungs, we criticize our military, Canada Day Celebrations and voting booths are poorly attended.  Although we are united under the red and white maple leaf we are more like a collection of sovereign states that happen to be geographically near each other than a unified whole.

Americans pledge "one people under God, indivisible." The Separatists have taught us that our unification even after 142 years is still fragile, uncertain.  Having spent most of my childhood in the Yukon and then my teenage years in BC I feel absolutely no connection to the East.  Eavesdropping on the adults at parties meant I heard many a conversation that perhaps BC should follow Quebec's lead.  The Celtic traditions of the Maritimes is a foreign concept for a kid who grew up with drumming circles, school potlatches and field trips to totem poles.

I feel as Canadians that we have struggled with our national identity and how to bring our disparate and diverse parts together into a strong and unified whole.  I thought the Opening Ceremonies did a great job of being Canadian in all it's facets.  And I thought it spoke beautifully of our connection with the physical elements of our land and how the elements have shaped us as a nation and as individuals. It was a feast for the eyes. It stirred my spirit.  It made me proud of this nation that I love, proud to be Canadian.  And you can't put a price on that.

You can't put a price on unity.  You can't put a price on national pride.  Because when we are proud of our country we care what happens to it.  We vote.  We volunteer.  We raise children who are convinced they can contribute and make their country a better place.  This is not about Vancouver 2010.  This is about Canada.   The true north strong and free.

And yes, we say zed, not zee.

The process of cutting another apron string.

It's that time. Kindergarten registration looms ever closer. Our kids could have gone to school this year but they have a later birthday and emotionally they are young five-year-olds so we decided to wait. Already I am so glad we waited, already I know it was the right thing to do. But we can put it off no longer. They will start school this coming September and choosing a school has been an exciting and scary ride all at the same time.

Someone recently described to me how they picture the transition from home to Kindergarten. Your child walks out a door of love and trust and safety and gets hit in the face with a bucket full of ice water. Welcome to the real world, SUCKA! When we started thinking about sending our innocent, trusting, sheltered little souls into the dog-eat-dog world of playground politics I have to admit I was severely tempted to homeschool. For about a day. And then after practicing letters for a few minutes with a boy who was trying to write with his arm hovering above the table I decided public school punks with bad attitudes and bad language are way less damaging than a mom yelling, "I said to rest your arm on the table! The table! THE TABLE! Look how shaky your lines are! You have to put your arm down on the table. The. Table. Arm. On table. The table. PUT YOUR ARM ON THE FRIGGIN' TABLE!"

We narrowed our choices down to the two schools closest to us since I don't want to have to drive 40 minutes round trip if someone forgets their snowpants. Up for consideration was a Catholic school and a Public school. Let me break them down for you before I tell you what we decided.

Tour #1. Catholic School which we will call St. A's.
Frankly the fact we were even considering Catholic school was a surprise to me as I had never imagined my kids going anywhere but public school and we are certainly not Catholic. But I had a good friend whose daughter had already spent two great years there and in those two years I heard enough about the ordinary day-to-day experiences to make me love St. A's. So we called and spoke to a very friendly secretary and set up an appointment to tour the school. The school itself is one long hallway of classrooms and reminded me strongly of the little elementary school I went to. Which, big points on the nostalgia factor. The Principal there is one of the most kind and caring individuals I have ever met. He knows every student's name in the school, interrupted every single class to introduce us to the teachers and introduce the kids to the students and halfway through the tour Sebastian, our two-year-old, was asking him for "up, up." The kids in the classes seemed bright and happy, St. A's literacy program is excellent, their playground is well supervised and the school motto is "Be Great In The Small Things". You had me at HELLO!

Compare and contrast if you will when I called the public school, which I will refer to as JH, to book a tour. Firstly I had to go through an automated system - press 1, press 2 etcetera. Then when I pressed zero for the receptionist the phone rang and rang and rang. It rang long enough that I started to prepare a message to leave on the machine. And then it continued to ring and I started to wonder if they even had an answering machine and if I should hang up or let it ring some more. I had just decided to hang up when, I am not even remotely exaggerating, Marge Simpson's sister picked up and barked/coughed, "HELLO." Startled I held the phone out to make sure I had called the right number and then tentatively introduced myself and explained why I was calling. Her response? (You need to read this like you've been smoking for 100 years to really get a feel for the conversation.) "YOU WANNA SEE THE SCHOOL? OKAY. SURE. COME IN. WELL MAYBE YOU NEED AN APPOINTMENT. I DON'T KNOW IF YOU NEED AN APPOINTMENT. YOU MIGHT NEED AN APPOINTMENT. I'D ASK THE PRINCIPAL BUT I CAN'T. SHE'S NOT HERE. NEITHER IS THE VICE PRINCIPAL. THEY'RE NOT HERE."

Understandably I was put off and in that moment had just solidified our decision to go with St. A's when she said, "MAYBE YOU COULD CALL BACK TOMORROW WHEN THE SECRETARY IS BACK IN." Sigh of relief. Marge's sister is not the secretary. When we did get to JH to go on our tour it was the secretary who gave it. This secretary, the Not-Marge's-Sister secretary, was honestly not much better than Marge's sister. When I asked her if she could tell us a bit about their literacy program and about some of their literacy strategies her response was, "We strongly believe in literacy." Well that's good. I was afraid for a moment we might have been considering the only school in the country that didn't believe in literacy. What a relief.

When we met the Principal the secretary didn't use either our names or the Principal's name so I didn't know the Principal's name until we read through the school handbook on the way home. Neither the secretary, the Principal or the Vice Principal asked our kid's their names and we didn't get to meet any of the Kindergarten teachers. However the Principal did grow on me as we talked and I found her much warmer than I originally thought she was going to be. And when we peeked into the music room the Grade 4's were playing African drums and not triangles or maracas which is what elementary school music consisted of for me. The classrooms are bright and each one has five or six computers, the playground is enormous and brand new and Kindergarten kids get Grade 4 reading buddies to help them feel comfortable around the older kids on the playground.

Walking out of JH I was much more torn than I thought I would be. I assumed that when we walked the halls of JH it would just confirm to us that St. A's was absolutely, positively the school for us. I'm not sure what I was expecting the public school to be like but my imagination had conjured up a Lord of the Flies type environment where chaos and mean girls in high heels and blue eyeshadow reined. My entire school education was at public school and besides a few miserable, lonely months when the queen bee of elementary school cast me out of her royal presence and declared me persona non grata, I liked school. So I'm not sure why I had come up with this mental picture except perhaps that everyone is always saying how kids are so much different these days, so much harder to handle, show so little respect. Shockingly, none of the kids who filed past us on their way to library were wearing eyeshadow, blue or otherwise. Amazingly, the windows we peeked through showed classes in perfect order. We didn't even get one black look or middle finger. Who knew public school was so....non-threatening? Walking out of JH I realized the kids would truly be fine in either school.

So what did we decide on in the end? It took us about a week and a couple of conversations with my mom to decide. When I talked to my mom about the differences in Principals and secretaries between the two schools she reminded me how little contact I had with either in my school experiences and that their individual teachers would be more important in forming Tristan and Ava's view of school. One of the Kindergarten teachers at JH also has a music degree and incorporates a lot of music into her lessons which I know my kids would really respond to. Plus class size at JH is more controlled. There is a maximum of 16 kids per class until Grade 3 and each class gets a teacher and an aide. When I bemoaned to my mom the kids not getting to experience the St. A's Principal she said she understood and reminded me of the dynamic and charismatic Principal I had in elementary school. Interestingly when I had been thinking of my elementary school Principal I had been drawing a complete blank. I couldn't even remember if the Principal had been a man or woman. Obviously not a big impact in my life, obviously not something to choose a school over. JH has another thing going for it. It's bigger than St. A's. This year there is three Kindergarten classes to St. A's one. A bigger school means all the good things like more options, more programs, more provincial funding etc. But it also means should some queen bee at some time oust Ava she won't have to sit alone on the playground wishing she had other options for friends.

Underlining all these considerations is the fact that we want our kids to go to the public highschool up in our area (should we still live here when that time comes). It's a really good school with a lot of sports and arts options and opportunities like overseas exchanges and school trips to New York. Bottom line, in this city you don't feed from Catholic elementary school to Public highschool. Personally I would not want to have to start over on the friend department in Grade 7. Kind of a tender age emotionally if you know what I mean. So with all that being said we chose, drum roll please.....JH, public school, and couldn't be happier with our decision. True to form Tristan is excited about gym class and getting to play on the playground everyday and Ava is excited about getting to eat lunch at school and having an after-school snack.

Initially Tristan and Ava didn't want to go to JH. They wanted to go to St. A's because they took to the Principal so strongly but when I told them he wouldn't be their teacher and the gym and playground at JH were way bigger they were sold. Isn't it great how easily convinced kids are? Oh my gosh. They're easily convinced. What if some kid convinces them they shouldn't like their parents? Or listen to their teachers? Or that all the cool kids smoke? What if they hate it? What if someone is mean to them?

Why did I think homeschooling wasn't a good idea again?

Requires Ice Cream #1

So, funny story.

One of our local papers put out an ad looking for a creative story writer to do a weekly column, the description of which sounded a lot like blogging with a local spin. I was terrified but I decided to apply. A friend helped me comb through the archives on my blog and we chose four samples to tweak and submit and I spent an entire day emailing my mom back and forth in the quest of the perfect cover letter. I finished it, printed it all, got dressed up, had Hugh come home from work mid-day so I could drop it off in person rather than email it and....the editor wasn't in. The receptionist put it on his desk and even though I didn't get to speak to the editor I walked out feeling very good about my submissions.

Early the following week I wanted to call and touch base and just make sure the editor had seen my application so I went to the yellow pages and looked under newspapers and had a minor stroke. See one of the things I thought was so great about my cover letter was how I showed that I read the paper in question by commenting briefly on how much I have enjoyed their Ask The Experts section. What gave me the minor stroke was seeing Ask The Experts in the phone book. With it's own number. On a separate line. As in not a section of the paper I was applying to.

So.... Not so much funny ha-ha....
They could still call right? Right? To slightly mangle Shakespeare, "the road to publication never did run smooth."

2010

In elementary school I read a poem about New Years that went something along the lines of: exercise books half-full, pencils half their size, erasers down to nubs, backpack straps are broken but Happy New Year anyway. I remember coming back to school every year from Christmas break and feeling like what's so new about this year? Now, as an adult, I love a new year. Is there anything more exciting and inspiring than a calendar full of blank pages? It feels like anything is possible! A new calendar is always another reminder for me to be intentional about what I do (and don't) want in my life. I am, as always, determined not to simply react to the world around me. At the end of this year I want to be pleased by how my calendar filled up - pleased at the growth, friendships and fun I planned into my life. I know I cannot control everything. I know that this year will bring it's challenges but I will take responsibility for every thought, every action, every emotion and carve a learning and growth out of every situation. The definition of responsibility is simply the ability to respond. I have the ability to respond to everything in my life so the greater question is, how will I respond?

All in all I'm starting 2010 off better than I began 2009. I lost the 15 pounds I gained last year not by running or doing my 10-minute trainer but by having an emergency appendectomy being on a broth diet for three days and then being completely turned off of food for over a month afterward. Easy, non? Now if only I could figure out a way to market it...

I have a few things on my "want to accomplish" list for 2010, one of which is getting something published. Which should be no problem since breaking into the publishing world is notoriously easy. Sigh. Just thinking about all the rejection I'm likely to face in this pursuit makes me crave ice cream.

2010 will also bring a whole new dynamic to our family as Tristan and Ava will start full-day, five days a week Kindergarten and I am determined to make these last months count, these last days special. The years of having young kids at home go as fast as everyone says they do yet I remember clearly days that seemed to have no end, nights when morning came all too quickly and I didn't know if I had it in me to begin another endless round of feedings, bum wipes, and baths. It really has gotten easier as my children have grown and I am thankful that I also have a wealth of memories of adventure and laughter and fun but there are still things I've never done with my kids that I always thought I would. So this is the year I'm going paint outside with the kids, do treasure hunts and tea parties and maybe, just maybe find a fairy.

What about you? What do you want out of 2010?

She does NOT like surprises!

I have two younger sisters. My youngest sister Jane does not like surprises. Every year at Christmas she turned our house upside-down finding all the presents hidden and on Christmas Day as you were about to open a present she would say things like, "you're going to really like this one!" It got to the point where before you opened anything you'd glance at Jane and she would give you a slight nod or a shake depending on whether she thought you'd like it or not.

Another of our Christmas traditions was to do a sister-sleepover on Christmas Eve and Jane would wake up hours before Erin or I and dump all the stockings out and to see what everyone got and to high-grade the candy and gifts that we all got slightly different versions of like watches or socks. In her later teen years Jane decided she was tired of always knowing what everyone got every year and she decided to shake things up and be surprised. She announced this one day at dinner to a stunned silence and so Mom went out of her way to surprise Jane that year, even going so far as to not hide a single gift at home, just in case! And wouldn't you know that was the year Jane happened to walk out of the library, which was kitty-corner to the office where my Mom worked, at the same time Mom happened to be taking Jane's gift inside her office to hide. Even when she wanted to be surprised she couldn't be. This might be genetic as apparently my Mom's brother, Cam, was always like that.

Now I'm the Mom and it's my job to do Christmas. This year, in the midst of all our holiday busyness Hugh and I are refinishing a hutch we bought off Kijiji. Cuz there's nothing like adding a bit of unnecessary stress to an already stressful season, right? Last weekend we went downstairs to prime it. (Our basement is unfinished.) Hugh went down a few minutes before me and I heard him say, "You guys get out of there! You know you're not allowed to play in there!" Which made me run down the stairs immediately because I knew the "there" Hugh was talking about was the furnace room which besides being off limits due to the potential for danger and destruction, is also where I hid the boys' Christmas presents. I could immediately tell from the looks on their faces that Tristan had no idea what was in the bags in the furnace room and Ava knew exactly what was in the bags. I took her upstairs for a little private convo where I used my best mom voice. You know the one right? It's the one guaranteed to get truthful answers because although quiet and controlled, it sounds like the wrath of God is about to fall and holds just a hint of the promise of the end of life as we know it.
"Ava what did you see in the bags?"
"Toys."
"What kind of toys?"
"Little People."
The Little People are just a little add-on gift in the spirit of keeping things even between all the kids. Can I just say right now that I wish kids this age understood evenness in terms of cost and not how many presents they have to open? Anyway, the point is the Little People were sitting on top of the boys' main gifts, Bounce Back Racers, which Tristan has asked for two years in a row.
"What else did you see?" I demanded.
"Ummm, ummm, ummmm," she said with quivering little lips. "I saw, um, I saw hot things and sharp things and dangerous things." And then she fell sobbing into my arms while I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief that I did not have to start my Christmas shopping over. When she calmed down I said, "Ava do you know you're not allowed in the furnace room?"
"Yes."
"Well then why did you go in there?"
"Because I wanted to see those toys again."
Again.
"How many times have you been in that room?"
"Um, maybe about like five times?"

Sometimes you just can't fight fate. Or genetics. I sure hope Ava can keep a secret.