On writing and rejection

Yesterday I received another rejection letter from an editor to whom I had submitted an essay for consideration. It came in the form of an email that I hurriedly read late last night after the craziness of a long day spent at a track meet with Noah and a stage rehearsal for dance with Will. I wanted to cry as I scanned the few carefully crafted lines intended to let me down gently, but I was too tired then even for that, so I crumpled up my feelings of shame and disappointment and just went to bed instead.

This morning I woke up in a miserable mood, my head swirling with thoughts of how I used to be good at intelligent things, and with the realization of just how much I long now to be good at something other than lunch making and laundry and driving people where they need to go. It hurts to deliver a piece of yourself in a much loved and laboured over piece of writing and then be told, even in a nice way, that it just isn't good enough. And yet, as I've tended to all of my bruised feelings today, I've found myself eagerly forming phrases in my mind, imagining how I will write about this particular bit of life, too. It's strong, this innate desire to create something beautiful out of words, too strong, it appears, to be driven out of me by the sting of someone else's criticisms.

I was just outside in the backyard, catching a few moments of sunshine while I ate, and my eye was drawn to our vegetable gardens where all of the seeds I planted last week have begun to sprout. There is something so encouraging in those tiny green shoots that have pushed their way through the grubby soil to the bright light of the sun, the way they reach always upwards and outwards. I thought about how far the tender plants still have to go before they're capable of bearing fruit for us to enjoy, how much growing they still have to look forward to. I wonder if maybe that's the case for me, too.

Maybe it's foolish of me to believe that my words might ever be good enough to reach beyond the pages of this tiny blog and somehow touch the lives of strangers in a meaningful way. The only thing I know for sure right now is that I'm still eager to keep on trying.

Smart Gifts for Teachers

June has arrived (June, already!!) and the next several weeks will be filled with fun activities as another year of school and extra-curriculars winds down.  Amidst the hustle and bustle of practices, meets, performances, and special events, the boys and I have been thinking of how to show our appreciation for the dedicated teachers who have cared about Noah and Will, encouraged them, and helped them to grow in wonderful ways since last September.

Together we've decided on some thoughtful little gifts to give to them, chosen from a collection of ideas we've gathered over the years.  The suggestions you'll find below have become some of our favourite ways to say "thank you", as we've seen the boys' teachers put these kinds of items to very good use.  Perhaps if you're looking for an idea, one of these gifts will be just right for the special teachers in your own family's life. (Click on the coloured text links to be taken to the websites where you can purchase these items.)

Personalized Stationery/Tote Bags:  A teacher's working life is filled with paper of all kinds, and a gift of personalized stationery adds a nice touch to all of the notes and details she or he needs to write down over the course of the school year.  Vistaprint offers sticky notes, notepads, pens, labels, and more in a variety of designs that can be personalized with a teacher's name.  Have your children each choose a design and colour scheme that they think their teacher will love (and you can also give the gift of a matching personalized tote bag for carrying all of those papers around!)

Charitable Gifts:  We've often thought it appropriate to show our gratitude for our children's educational experiences by giving a gift of learning to children elsewhere in the world.  Through organizations such as Free The Children and unicef, we've been able to purchase gifts of school supplies for use in communities where education opportunities and literacy are scarce.  After purchasing a chosen item from one of the charities' websites, simply print out a card describing the gift and your child's teacher will have the pleasure of knowing he or she has touched even more young lives.

LunchBots Containers: Packing a lunch to take to school is part of the daily routine for many teachers, and today's schools are often quite conscientious about environmentally friendly food packaging.  A gift of a durable and stylish LunchBots container is very practical in that it can be used by the teacher for years to come.  Include a homemade treat inside if you like (maybe your child can help prepare it) and tie the container up with a ribbon for giving.

Key Fobs:  Colourful, practical, and unique, these personalized key fobs are the perfect thing for holding all of a teacher's school keys.  The bright designs will help make keys easy to spot and difficult to get mixed up with other teachers' sets in the staff room.  (There are a variety of different patterns and colours to choose from on this Etsy shop's page.)

Book Store Gift Cards:  We love giving Chapters gift cards to teachers because they can use them in whatever way they choose, whether it be books for their classroom, books about education for professional development, or books for their own pleasure reading over the summer break.  I think most teachers would agree that one can never have too many books!

Silver Apple Necklaces:  Here is a sweet spin on "an apple for the teacher".  This dainty sterling silver apple necklace (and other designs available on Etsy) are a pretty gift for a teacher who keeps the children in her care close to her heart.  The two young women teachers to whom we gave necklaces similar to the one pictured below really loved them.

Probably one of the most appreciated teacher gifts of all is a heartfelt note from your child that shares what he or she really enjoyed about school this past year.  (I still have the kind notes written to me by my former students from years ago -- their words of thanks were very meaningful to me.)

I hope all of the teachers, students, and families out there enjoy these last few busy weeks of school as we all look forward to summer holidays.  :)

Moving forward

I stood in front of the full-length hotel mirror, turning this way and that to quickly check my outfit, my hair, my makeup one last time, as if looking just right on the outside would somehow compensate for the mess that existed inside.  I could feel my heart fluttering and thumping in that way that it does before I do anything that scares me; my throat felt a little tight and my stomach was quickly tying itself into rigid little knots.  In my head, I was having a rather heated conversation with the image reflecting back at me from the glass.

"You can do this.  You really should do this."

"What if I can't, though? What if I get down there and there is no one who wants to talk to me?  What if they find me boring?  What if they've read my work and think I'm a terrible writer?  What if I look like an idiot?"

"You know that's ridiculous.  And even if it wasn't, so what?  Really, what is the worst thing that can happen?"

"I know.  But I don't HAVE to do this.  I could stay here safely in my room where there is nothing that makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Is that what you came here for?"

 "No.  You're right.  Okay, yes, I'm going. I'm going!"

I took a deep breath, held my head up to model the confidence I wanted to feel, and walked determinedly out the door.

"Keep moving forward."

***



I spent the weekend at Blissdom Canada, a fantastic and engaging conference that brings together bloggers and social media specialists from across the country to inspire and learn from one another.  My days were filled with incredible opportunities to discover something new, through motivating and moving speakers, informative and practical sessions, and high-energy hands-on workshops.  While the thought of walking into large rooms full of people I didn't know made me feel very anxious, I am so glad that I pushed myself out of my usual comfort zone and participated fully in the weekend.  Taking that risk has changed the way I see myself and my work, and has lit a fire inside that I really want to keep burning in the months ahead.

I was incredibly moved by the courage of Glen Canning, father of Rehtaeh Parsons, who spoke so candidly at the conference about his heartbreaking experiences in seeking justice for his daughter.  I was uplifted by the inspiring anecdotes of "lollipop moments" described by Drew Dudley.  I had a chance to experience a fast-paced, high-output creative brainstorming session led by Marilyn Barefoot, which completely pushed me outside of my usual introverted realm of individual creativity and allowed me to look at things in a different way.  I was given the helpful guidelines and encouragement I needed to pursue my goal of writing for print publications in a discussion with Tracy Chappell and in a presentation by Julie Van Rosendaal and Caroline Fernandez. And listening to the personal stories and sage advice of writers such as Glennon Doyle Melton, Elan Morgan, Haley Overland, Rebecca Stanisic , Ali Martell, and Erica Ehm made me think about my own voice and not being afraid to make it heard in a way that feels right to me.

Without a safety net of familiar faces to turn to at Blissdom for company, I was encouraged to reach out to some unfamiliar ones and get to know something about them.  This resulted in some wonderful conversations and new friendships with a gluten-free mom who shares many of my day-to-day realities when it comes to feeding her family, a green mom with an admirable passion for what she believes in, and a talented writer mom whose real-life presence radiates the same warmth and genuineness as the beautiful words she puts on paper.  Spending time with these and many other wonderful women at Blissdom has reminded me that even when we don't know each other well, as women, as human beings, we are all connected to each other in some meaningful way.

The resounding message that sings in my head and my heart since my weekend at Blissdom is that no matter who we are, no matter what strengths and weaknesses we possess, we all have the ability to make a difference in the world.  There is power in our words and actions; each one of us can use our unique gifts to create positive change.  Comparing ourselves to others and feeling somehow less than what we are because we think we can't do it as well as someone else is counterproductive.  We need to use our voices, our hands, to spread kindness and love in the world (and by example, teach our children to do the same).  Nothing else really matters.

What are any of us afraid of?  Let's challenge ourselves to do things that make us uncomfortable so that we can grow into our best selves.  Let's all keep moving forward.



Thank you to the entire Blissdom Canada team for a truly amazing experience!

Thank you!

I am happy to say this morning that Pocketfuls has once again claimed a spot among the top 25 blogs in the Circle of Moms Canadian Moms blogger contest, which ended last evening.  A very big thank you to all of you who showed your support for me by voting over the past several weeks.  I hope you'll continue to find this space a worthy place of spending some of your time as I share new stories, ideas, and recipes in the months to come.  I really appreciate each and every one of you!  :)

xo Lisa

Please vote :)

Well, we've survived the first week back to school!  After several days of both great excitement and great frustration about new teachers and classes and routines (and lost hours of sleep for me, spent thinking and worrying), we're all definitely ready for a fun and relaxing weekend around here.  This will just be a quick post this afternoon to ask a favour of you.

Pocketfuls has been nominated for the Circle of Moms Top 25 Canadian Moms blogger contest 2013, and I need your votes to help me rise to one of the top spots again this year.  If you enjoy what you read here, please consider clicking on the pink "Vote for me" button you'll find in my sidebar, and then vote for Pocketfuls on the contest page.  You may vote once per day every day between now and September 25th.   The added bonus of clicking on the button is that you may also discover some other great blogs to read and enjoy!  :)  Thanks in advance for your support -- I really appreciate it.

I hope all of the kids have had a great first week back at school.  Happy weekend all!

From afar and up close

When I was little I used to like to sit and watch ants as they scurried along the patio stones in our backyard.  I must have found something fascinating in the way that they so determinedly went about their work; they always seemed like they were trying to accomplish something important.  They would tirelessly carry tiny grains of sand and other bits of nature to build themselves a hill and a life within it, and no matter how many times I swept their efforts away with the bottom of my foot, the ants would continue moving forward with purpose, marching against time and adversity to leave their mark upon the world.

Sometimes as an adult, I have surreal moments where I feel as if I'm watching human life from afar, much like I used to watch the ants years ago.  I've more than once in recent weeks felt an all-encompassing mixture of awe and panic as I've studied the incredible photos Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield has been sharing from space, or suddenly noticed the streaks left behind by jet planes lit up like comets in a pink sky where the sun was just beginning to set, or laid back on the snowy ground to stare up in wonder at millions of crystalline flakes swirling and floating in the air above me.   In those moments, I've become suddenly and keenly aware of the sheer enormity of the universe and the absolute smallness of myself, of the infinite number of possibilities that exist in every second and of the finite number of days I have on this planet. The realization that in the incomprehensibly big picture of time and space and life, I am only a speck even smaller than an ant hits me with a force so strong sometimes that I feel like I can't breathe. 

When I do breathe, and feel myself once again planted firmly where I'm sitting, I remember that while the big picture is powerful and magnificent, it is missing something important.  It's like the difference between looking out at a field blanketed by snow (which is beautiful, indeed, in the way it sparkles in the afternoon sun) and examining in careful detail the perfect and intricate combination of points that make up a single, pretty snowflake.  The latter is also breathtaking in its own right.  While we may be small, each of us (and the tiny grains of sand we carry with us in the form of our hopes and dreams and heartfelt efforts in life) are unique and significant.  Some of us may not accomplish anything that will be visible from afar, but still, every one of us will leave our mark, somehow, through a meaningful life lived with passion and in the hearts we touch along the way.

I have an even greater appreciation for the ants now that I'm older.  Their implied message to move forward undeterred in the building of a good life holds a wisdom I value more with each passing day.

Toughening up

There have been a lot of wild ups and downs with the weather here in recent weeks.  Earlier this month we were outside in fall-weight jackets and shoes for a couple of days, eagerly soaking up the warmth of the bright sun, and this week we are bundling ourselves up in multiple layers to protect ourselves from blustery snow squalls and numbingly cold temperatures.

I've come to realize recently that the experience of writing about the details of your life, and then deciding to share that writing with the public, brings similar highs and lows.  Several days ago I was riding a wave of happiness.  I felt really proud of having completed a personal writing challenge, and when I spoke of that experience here, the comments I received suggested that the message seemed to resonate with others; one friend felt that the reminder to challenge the inner voice of self-doubt was worth sharing .  I was also very glad to hear this week that one of my recipes had helped a lovely young woman who lives thousands of kilometres away from me, but has some of the same food sensitivities that I do.  I've had many positive comments from readers over the past couple of years who have told me that my words or ideas have meant something to them, and it is this knowledge that inspires me to always keep searching within for new subjects to explore, write about, and share, in an effort to make real connections with people so we all know we're not alone.

But "putting yourself out there", so to speak, leaves one vulnerable to criticism, too.  And this week, I had several people from an online community where I sometimes share my posts say that they found my posting of links to my blog "annoying", that I was drawing too much attention to myself.  I would like to say that I just let those comments roll off my back, that I was okay with some people finding my posts bothersome (because really, you can't please everyone all the time), but that would be a lie.  The comments hurt, and made me feel anxious and embarrassed and upset.  They caused me to question why I do what I do, and just how much I should be sharing myself with people I don't even know.  They allowed the little nagging voice of self-doubt to resurface and shout quite loudly and meanly at me over the past few days.

I have been hyper-sensitive to whatever I perceive as criticism for as long as I can remember.  When I was a little girl, I can recall crying to my mom sometimes after a socially trying day at school that "nobody liked me" (not true), and being very easily upset by my dad's gentle and playful teasing.  My parents used to kindly suggest that I not take things so personally all the time.  I'm trying hard this week to remember that long-ago good advice.

Now that the cold sting of those hurtful comments from strangers has dulled a little bit, I have realized that I cannot let a few negative voices ruin what has otherwise been a very rewarding experience for me.  I write because I feel things deeply and have ideas that excite me; I share because I believe that even though we are all very different people, sometimes many of us feel the same things, and the ideas that excite one person often excite others and inspire them to create new and wonderful things, too.  The lovely connections I've had a chance to make with so many people, both old friends and new, along this journey by opening myself up online have proven to me that my beliefs probably have some merit.  I may be more careful about where I share my work in the future, but I still feel compelled to keep doing what I love.  I'm just going to have to learn to bundle myself up a little better to protect myself against the harsher, chillier days.

For our feathered friends (Homemade bird feeders)

Christmas got packed up and put away at our house today.  Matt headed back to work this morning after a fun and relaxing week and a half of holidays, and while the boys were occupied creating setups and taking photos for their latest Lego animation projects, I went around to each room taking down lights and garlands and red berries and carefully tucking them all away in boxes until next December.   I always find the house looks less cheerful after the holiday decorations come down, so today I decided to find another way to add a bit of colour and excitement to our home's winter landscape.

 

I've seen quite a few photos of homemade bird feeders floating around on Pinterest lately, and when I mentioned the idea to Noah and Will, they were keen to create some of our own.  We have many winter birds who frequent the backyard tree just outside our kitchen window (a pair of cardinals come to visit us every day, and we always have dozens of little chickadees flitting about), and the three of us were excited to make it easier for them all to find food in the snowy months.  Will wanted to make some feeders like the ones he had made at school one year, using pinecones he found in our backyard, and Noah and I decided to each take half of a hollowed out orange as the base for ours.  With wild birdseed we bought earlier today at Bulk Barn, some natural peanut butter, some fresh cranberries we still had in our fridge, a bit of yarn, and some toothpicks, we were able to make a nice collection of simple but pretty feeders for our feathered friends (and the three of us all had a lot of fun in the process!)

To make Will's bird feeders, we started by making a tight loop around the top of each pinecone with yarn, and tying a double knot to hold it, leaving the yarn ends long for later tying around a tree branch.  We spread natural peanut butter all over each pinecone with a knife, and then rolled each pinecone in birdseed scattered on a plate until each cone was completely covered.

 

Once we finished coating all of the pinecones in birdseed, we tied them to various branches in our little tree outside and waited for the birds to arrive.

To make Noah's bird feeders, we first cut an orange in half and scooped out the flesh.  (This project results in a little snack for humans, too!)  Using a darning needle, we threaded the yarn through the orange peel from top to bottom on one side and then from bottom to top on the opposite side of the navel on the orange's base.  We repeated this process with another piece of yarn across from the first two holes, so that we had an X on the outside base of the orange, and four long strings poking up for tying to a tree branch.  (And because I'm quite sure that my explanation makes NO sense whatsoever, here are a couple of photos to show what I mean!)

We then stirred about a cup of wild birdseed with about two tablespoons of natural peanut butter in a bowl until we had a sticky mixture, and we pressed this mixture tightly into the hollowed out orange halves until they were full.

 

For the finishing touch, we threaded cranberries onto toothpicks (we used two berries per pick) and stuck them into the orange peel at intervals all around the top of the orange halves, leaving space for the birds to still get at the birdseed.

We tied these feeders onto branches in our tree, too, and then smiled with the results of our little project.

Within 30 minutes of us hanging our pinecones and oranges, we had birds visiting our feeders!  All three of us were so excited that the chickadees liked their homemade treats, and we're looking forward to continuing to feed and watch the little birds throughout the winter months.  We'll be watching especially closely tomorrow around the time when our cardinals usually come by.

I could have done a million "necessary" things this afternoon; there were needles and berries all over the carpets from my undecorating process, the floors needed mopping, and there were dishes and loads of laundry to be done.  I feel really good about the fact that I chose to ignore that for a little while to do something so rewarding and fun with my boys instead, something that will likely bring us smiles for days to come this winter as well.  I plan to create many more simply joyful moments like this in 2013!

Thank you

It's over!

After a very crazy and exhilarating last two days of voting, I'm thrilled to say that Pocketfuls finished in the #6 spot out of 104 blogs in the Top 25 Canadian Moms Contest! Your enthusiasm helped launch this blog to a finish waaaaayyyy beyond what I had hoped for when I first entered the contest. In the words of my 11 year old son Noah, "That was epic." :)

As a top 25 finisher, I will have my blog featured on the Circle of Moms site, which has a readership of six million moms. From a writer's perspective, the opportunity to get my work out to so many new readers is really exciting! I hope that you'll continue to visit here, and to find something in my words that will be helpful to you, or will make you laugh, or will touch your heart somehow.

I know I've said it many times throughout this contest, but honestly, "thank you" doesn't really seem sufficient for the support so many of you have shown. You helped make this such a fun and happy experience for me, and I'm quite moved by the kindness and encouragement you've given. I very heartily and sincerely appreciate it all.

Thank you again, everyone!  Have a wonderful weekend.   xo ~ Lisa

 

 

 

Believing in miracles

As we journey through the beautiful and complex experiences of human life, we all take our turns at encountering difficult challenges, some of which shake us to our very core.  Whether it's a major health issue, a heartbreaking loss, a drastic and unexpected change, or an earth-shattering revelation, when we find ourselves facing such life-altering moments, it can feel like they might just swallow us whole. Sometimes in these situations, our overwhelmed hearts give into despair, and we curl into a ball and retreat from the world for awhile, lost and afraid. Sometimes, though, the human heart musters up remarkable courage and resilience, and finds deep within it an unending hope that wills things to somehow be different. Today I want to share a truly inspiring story of a beautiful woman and her family, who walked straight into one of life's most fearsome realizations with bravery and love, and emerged on the other side of a miracle.

This the story of Erica (Holmes) Harris, as told by Kara Hoffman in an article at SooToday.com:

Erica Harris is one of those gals you just don’t forget ...
Full of life, smart as a whip, gorgeous inside and out.
She’s married to the perfect guy, Harley, and has two of the cutest boys, ages 5 and 2.
She is amazingly passionate about health and wellness and previously served as a bustling chiropractor.
She is a dedicated Mama, living life on the North Shore to its fullest.

That is, until this spring when a routine blood test raised immediate panic.
Within days, she learned she had AML - acute myelogenous leukemia - a very serious, aggressive form of blood cancer.

Within an instant, Erica’s life had changed course, completely.

She was diagnosed on June 7 and was admitted to Vancouver General Hospital hours later.
As she left for the hospital, she explained to her older son that we all have these little fighter guys in our bodies that help keep us healthy by fighting bugs from colds but Mama's fighter guys just weren't working well right now.
As she walked out the door, her little guy shouted "go fighters go!" - and this became the mojo behind Team Harris.

Erica immediately started chemotherapy to kill all the "bad’"cells her bone marrow was producing.
Unfortunately, this first round of "chemo" didn’t do its job.
Erica had to undergo an even more aggressive round of chemotherapy, called “salvage chemo.”
Along the way, she endured many life threatening infections, had kidney failure, awoke unable to breathe as her lungs were swimming in fluid, had unexpected surgery, and required many blood transfusions.

She was told at the start of the salvage chemo that she would require a bone marrow transplant following remission as her leukemia was so aggressive.
At this time, Harley embarked on an amazing campaign to raise awareness for One Match in hopes of finding a stem cell/bone marrow donor match as Erica's only sibling was not a match.
Family and friends were desperately encouraging people to register with One Match as they knew that at some point Erica would need this transplant to survive.

Great news came on July 30 that a perfect bone marrow match (10/10!) had been found for her somewhere in the world.
This great enthusiasm, however, was short-lived.
The very next day, Erica and Harley learned the salvage chemo was not successful as Erica's marrow was still riddled with leukemic cells.
To be a candidate for transplant, she first had to be in remission.
She was offered no further treatment or testing aside from supportive care in the outpatient unit.
Her prognosis was estimated at a couple of months.

The Harris duo returned home to spend the next few weeks together with their boys as a family.
Never giving up hope, Erica and Harley vowed to stay strong and fight.
Erica was blessed with so many friends and family who spent tireless hours researching and contacting others on her behalf.
With this insight, they embarked on their path.
Erica started an intense regimen of supplements, high doses of IV vitamin C, she changed her diet, followed a juicing plan loaded with nutrients and found such comfort in the power of prayer, meditation and love.
Harley stayed by her side every step of the way since the minute she was diagnosed ... fighting for the best care, talking with specialists from all over the world, ensuring her nutrition/meds/supplements were perfectly adhered to, and holding her hand through all the ups and downs and for every pain staking poke.

Little did they know, deep down in that “never quit” bone marrow, there was a true miracle happening.
Erica’s body started to respond to every little bit of love, hope and faith it had received.

On September 7, 2012, Erica, Harley and her brother Matthew sat with mouths agape in the day care unit at VGH as they learned Erica was in full remission.

Full remission.

Erica is absolutely humbled by everyones' efforts on her path and no words can describe how she feels with this amazing gift of life and hope she was blessed with from above.

All this means that Erica went from having a diagnosis of “months, at best, to live” to “be ready for a bone marrow transplant in October of this year”.

Erica is ready for this.
Her husband, family and friends are ready for this.
As Erica prepares for yet another lengthy hospital stay, her whole ‘circle of love’ will be cheering her on, willing her body to its highest level of strength and supporting her entire family.
All is set for her transplant to start on October 19 at VGH.



Reading the incredible update to Erica's story this week sent chills down my spine and flooded my eyes with tears.  It is a testament to the power of the human body to work at healing itself given the right physical nourishment, and a testament to the power of the human spirit to flourish when surrounded by love and hope.  In this season of Thanksgiving, I am so very happy for Erica and her family, who I'm sure must have a profound appreciation for what a precious gift time spent together is.  I'm grateful, too, for the reminder that we should walk through life with strength and peace, and with our hearts wide open, even if that leaves us vulnerable.  Anything is possible.

***

 

Friends of Erica in her childhood hometown of Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario have set up a trust fund to help her and her family as she continues on her journey to wellness.  If you are interested in making a donation to the fund, you can find more details here.  

Asking for your votes...

This is just a quick little Friday afternoon post to ask a favour of you!

I am participating in the Circle of Moms Top 25 Canadian Moms 2012 blogger contest.  If you enjoy what you read here in this space, I would love it if you could go to this link and vote for Pocketfuls.  (You will need to look for me in the "Pending Appoval" section for now, as I just entered the contest today.)  You may vote once every 24 hours from now until October 11, so please return and vote often if you can.

Thanks so very much for your support -- it means a lot to me.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Food allergies in the classroom -- what is the answer?

 

I read an article in our local paper this morning about a highly emotionally charged issue, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.  Parents of some students at a school in our region are outraged after the school has banned all dairy and egg products from kindergarten classrooms to ensure the safety of a young child starting at the school next week who has anaphylactic reactions to both foods.  At a meeting this week, parents were given a list of allowable foods to pack in their children's lunch boxes, and because dairy and egg products are found in many kinds of packaged foods, there are restrictions on what brands of bread, lunchmeats, soups, crackers, cookies, pastas, and spreads are allowed as well.  The parents were also told that if they send unsafe foods to school, those foods would be confiscated.  The concept of banning foods in schools is not a new one; most schools I know of have been nut-free for years, but this particular food ban is more far-reaching and complex, and parents, while they say they understand the severity of the child's allergies, are frustrated and angry about the restrictions being placed on what their children can eat at school.  I feel uneasy thinking about this situation from either side of the fence.

My family's experiences with food sensitivities allow me to be sympathetic both to the allergic child and his or her family, and to the families whose children share a classroom with that child.  While my son Will's reactions to various foods he's sensitive to are thankfully mild compared to anaphylaxis, I think I can appreciate the feelings and concerns of the parents of that allergic child, and their desire to protect their child from harm.  It must be absolutely frightening for them to send their child to school every day, away from their watchful eyes and judgement, and to trust that others will do what they should to make sure that their child comes home safe and healthy at the end of the afternoon.  I imagine that having a dairy and egg ban in place in their child's classroom would give them enough peace of mind to let their child go and have the regular school experiences he or she deserves to have (though I can't imagine the worry ever completely goes away).  My heart breaks for that family when I think about how I would feel if it were my child who caused the school to ban several foods from the classroom.  Knowing how angry other parents were about the situation and worrying that my child would be singled out as the target for other children's frustration about not being able to eat cheese or yogourt at school anymore would make for a very anxious and unhappy feeling about my child's first years in the education system.  It's sad that this family (and I'm sure there are others in schools everywhere who are in a similar situation) is faced with such negativity when the fact that their child has allergies is completely beyond their control.

On the other hand, I can understand how parents of non-allergic children, suddenly faced with a short list of allowable (and sometimes unfamiliar) foods to pack in their children's lunch boxes, are shocked and angry (and in some cases, refusing to agree to the food ban).  I can tell you first hand, as the mom of a child who is intolerant to dairy, eggs, and gluten (as well as several other foods), that suddenly removing whole groups of foods from your child's diet and still ensuring that he is eating in a well-balanced, healthy way is no easy feat -- it requires research, lots of time (and a willingness) for experimenting and making foods from scratch at home, extra money spent on special ingredients, and creativity.  Not every family has these resources available to them, and, let's be honest, even if they did, not every family of a non-allergic child is going to want to put in the extra effort it takes to pack an allergy-friendly lunch and snacks.    When it is your own child with food issues, there is a huge motivation to do what is necessary to feed your child in a way that is both nutritious and safe, and you do it out of love.  It's a lot harder to devote that kind of time and energy to food when it's not your child's issue, and if you feel, as many of this local school's parents do, that by complying with the food bans, you're just "depriving" (their word) your kids of the foods they enjoy and need to grow.  It should also be mentioned that children with strong opinions about foods and which ones they're willing to eat (I know many of these kinds of children!) may not "like" the substitute foods that the school has suggested (such as soy yogourt and WOW butter), and some parents may not see these suggestions as suitable food choices for their family for a variety of reasons.  I can't even imagine the nightmare that will unfold in that kindergarten classroom at lunchtime in the coming weeks, where the teacher or lunch-supervisor will have to somehow patrol lunches and confiscate foods that don't comply (if they can even identify them), and small children might be hungry some days because they're not allowed to eat part of their lunch, or they don't like the unfamiliar foods that their parents who have complied with the ban have packed for them.  My head spins just thinking about it.

Gone are the days where going to school was as simple as walking out the door with your books and a sandwich and an apple for the lunch hour.  Today's schools see many, many children with severe allergies to a variety of different foods, and it's become a real challenge for those in charge to ensure the safety of all students while still respecting the rights of every family to feed their children as they see fit.  I don't envy school officials who have to make these difficult policy decisions, and honestly, I don't know what the "right" answer is in these kinds of situations.  Having spent many hours volunteering in kindergarten classrooms and seeing how hard it would be to ensure no food allergens get spread around the room when little hands touch everything, it seems clear to me that some kind of safety system needs to be put in place.  Should that be in the form of outright food bans?  If so, then how far are we willing to go in this direction?  Do we ban all foods that any child in the class has an anaphylactic reaction to?  What happens if that eliminates several whole food groups in one classroom?  How do we go about ensuring 100% compliance with these food bans, when foods like dairy and eggs are present in some form in a wide, wide variety of foods? (Without such compliance, the classroom is still not safe.) Should teachers and lunch supervisors be expected to be able to identify whether or not their students have brought allowable brands of breads and lunchmeats and other foods to school?  If we don't want to ban foods, is it possible to create separate eating areas in schools, away from educational areas (because in many schools I've been in, children eat at their desks or tables in their own classrooms), and do we try to create "allergen-free" eating zones within the rooms designated for eating?  And how do we do that without singling out allergic children and making them feel ostracized?  Do schools even have the money or space to allow for such a set up?

It's difficult when an issue as emotional and personal as food and eating weaves itself into the complex fabric of the public education system.  Sadly, I can't see any family from that local kindergarten class feeling especially positive about school next week.  What are your thoughts on this very sensitive subject?

Update:  September 22

This morning's paper published an article that shared the thoughts and feelings of the father of the little boy with the dairy and egg allergies.  According to the article, the banning of all foods containing dairy and eggs from the classroom was not the choice of the family.  The parents of the allergic boy do not want other families to have to change their eating habits; what they asked instead was that the kindergarten students eat in a different room than their classroom to reduce the risk of surfaces in the classroom being contaminated with foods that are dangerous to their child.  The mom of the little boy has also volunteered to make the food for special occasions at school, such as pancake days.  The boy's father points out that the school board's choice to implement a food ban puts the onus for a safe school environment on other parents, which he is not comfortable with, and he expresses concern that his son will now start school as the subject of a spectacle.  It's sad that a family has been placed in the centre of such controversy when a food ban was not what they even wanted. 

School boards have an extremely important responsibility to minimize risks and to ensure the safety of every child in their care, but if the policies they put into place are not ones that are accepted by the families they rely on to comply with them, then how safe are our schools for allergic children?  This is an issue that needs some more thought.

Dear reader

I realized today that by the end of July, I will have been at this blogging thing for two years already.  What started out as something I did for me, as a way of recording the meaningful and interesting experiences of my life and making sense of my thoughts and feelings, has blossomed into something bigger and more rewarding than I ever imagined.  I watch visitors arrive on Pocketfuls, both from places where loved ones live and from places where I'm sure I don't know anyone at all, and it amazes and inspires me that people other than my family members and close friends find what I've shared worth reading.  While I don't know who many of you are, I am really glad for your company here, and for whatever little connection we share that drew you to my site.

In my day-to-day life, I am really more of a private person by nature.  I may not show it outwardly, but I am often nervous in large groups of people, and it takes me a while to feel comfortable enough with someone to share my true thoughts and feelings.  The safe walls of the spaces I know well and the familiar faces of the people I am closest to are usually the only ones who see what I'm experiencing inside.  Over the past two years,  my notebooks and my computer have also become a comfortable place to share who I really am, and through having the courage to publish my stories, I have grown both as a writer and as a person.  It's scary sometimes to write from your heart on a page that the whole world can read, but doing so has made me realize that the world is often a much smaller and much friendlier place than it sometimes seems.  Though we may be strangers, so many of us are connected to one another through our common human emotions and experiences.

I can't tell you how much it has meant to me to read or to hear your kind comments about how my blog speaks to you in some way.  Whether you've tried one of my recipes and enjoyed it, or could relate to one of my frustrating or funny adventures as a parent, or were moved or inspired by my reflections on life, love, grief, or beauty, it has made me so happy to be able to reach you, and to know that there are so many others out there who find meaning and significance in the same things I do.  I am grateful for each and every one of you who comes to share this space and these stories.

You may notice today that my web address has changed; yesterday I switched over to my own domain (www.pocketfuls.ca) to make this space I love more personal and to make it easier for others to find me.  (Thanks to fellow blogger Summer over at Running Chatter for the technical how-to tips!)  I have also recently registered for my first blogger conference, to be held in Toronto in the fall, which I'm very excited about!  I'll continue sharing the people, moments, and ideas that are important to me for as long as writing them down continues to bring me joy, and I hope that more of you will share your personal voices in the comments section from now on -- I would love to know more about who you are and what really matters to you. 

I still have lots of pockets left to fill -- I hope you do, too!  Please do come again soon.

Rick vs. Chordoma

Today I want to share a story of a wonderful man and his family who are going through a difficult time.  Rick, the father of one of Noah's best friends, was diagnosed last fall with Chordoma, a rare and difficult to treat form of cancer that occurs in the bones of the skull and spine.  He has already undergone brain surgery to remove part of the tumour, and is currently in the middle of radiation treatments, which involve driving to and from London (over an hour away) every day from Monday to Friday each week.  While I can't know for sure what worries and fears and struggles Rick, his wife Carole, their daughter Jess and their son Christian must face every day in this journey they're taking together, I imagine it must at times seem overwhelming, terrifying, exhausting, and unfair. 

The strength and togetherness of the Gehl family in the face of such stress is inspiring, to say the least.  Rick, who has always been a warm, kind, and hilariously funny man, still often shows up in the school yard to meet his children at the end of the day, and the smile on his face does not reveal even a hint of the war he's waging inside his body.  He is facing his illness with optimism, telling jokes and speaking candidly about what he's going through, and showing the world just how far a positive attitude will take you.  As is evident in their daily lives and in the heartfelt messages they've written for Rick on the website the family has set up to share their story, Carole and Jess and Christian are with Rick every step of the way; they are lifting each other up with their love when the weight of what they're facing falls heavily on any of them.

Rick, Carole, Jess and Christian are surrounded by a wonderfully supportive network of extended family and friends who are helping them in various ways during this time.  A one day hockey camp for kids aged 6 to 12 has been organized as a fundraiser, and a portion of the proceeds will be donated to assist Rick with the financial burdens of his battle against cancer.  If you know children in the K-W area who would be interested in a fun day of hockey skill development on the ice, games in the gym, and lifeguard supervised swimming, please consider signing them up for this event.  (You can find more information about both the camp and Rick's story here.)  If you live outside of K-W or do not know any young hockey fans, then please lend your support for Rick and his family in the form of positive thoughts or prayers.  Both Rick and Carole have said how difficult it is for them to accept others' help, even though they are so very grateful for all of the kindness being shown to them.  Knowing how much they have given to others just by being themselves makes me certain that there is no one more deserving of all the support we can give.

Our hearts and thoughts are with you and your family every day, Rick.  Keep up the good fight with hope and courage, knowing that there are many, many people in your corner.

  

For the love of music

When we were kids, my brother Frank and I used to entertain ourselves by "writing" and performing our own songs.  One composition that sticks out in my mind was a ridiculous country song we called The Breakfast Blues.  Frank would get out his guitar and strum an overly dramatic melancholy tune, and I would belt out the story of some poor sap who lost his dog and his truck, and who had to eat burnt toast for breakfast (which, to a kid, I suppose, is a real cause for woe).  Our songs were hilarious to us (and probably more than mildly annoying to our poor parents), but our performance exercises actually helped lead Frank and I to some serious and useful discoveries:  first, that there would definitely not be a singing career in my future (thankfully, I do have other talents!), but more importantly, that Frank had a wonderful gift and a true love for music, one that he would continue to nurture and develop beautifully as time went on.

In the years since our early duets, Frank has poured his heart and a lot of hard work into his music, and he has grown into an incredibly talented songwriter, performer, and teacher.  It's fascinating to me to hear him talk of the broad range of creative projects he's working on, ones that encompass many different genres of music and allow him opportunities to travel and meet interesting new people.  Listening to his recorded albums and hearing him play and sing live always fills me with huge emotions, both because his music is so honest and inspiring, and because I'm so proud of the amazing person my little brother has become.  I have such a deep admiration for the way he has always been true to himself, for how he has followed his dreams and filled his life with what he loves best, no matter how difficult that may have been for him at times.

I'm very excited about Frank's latest music project:  a new album with a new band and a tour that will bring him to my city to perform.  frank deresti and the lake effect's this time, a folk/jazz/roots-influenced collection of songs, will be released on April 12th, and you can listen to the title track here:



Thank you for sharing your extraordinary talents with the world, Frank.  Your beautiful music moves us all.

You can find more information about frank deresti and the lake effect and a schedule of their upcoming tour here. 

Close to home

Recent happenings, both happy and sad, have got me thinking often about my old home town, and about the family and friends from there with whom I love spending time.  My mom's recent stay in the hospital, the delighted phone calls from my two grandmas who really loved their valentines from the boys, my friend losing her father, the much anticipated upcoming visits from my two brothers and a planned girls' shopping trip with my mom and my aunt have all made me feel especially close to my roots lately, even though life has branched off in different directions for many of us over the years.

I love the life Matt, the boys and I have built here in Waterloo; we have wonderful friends, engaging activities to participate in, and a house, yard and neighbourhood that truly feel like home.  Living far from most of my extended family and old, cherished friends, though, means that I will always feel like there is something missing.

When I was browsing recently on Etsy (if you're not familiar with Etsy, oh, do go and take a look!  But beware -- it's a place filled with beautiful handmade items and you're sure to find something you MUST have!), I came across this lovely vintage map pendant. 

The seller will custom create a pendant showing any location that's dear to you, and I knew this necklace was the perfect way for me to wear my heart on my.... well, neck.  Since my pendant arrived in the mail, I have worn it often, and it makes me feel, in some small physical way, that I'm connected to all of those Saultites, past and present, for whom I have a deep fondness.

If you'd like to wear a special place close to your heart, you can order your own custom map pendant here.  I love the way mine makes my home town feel somehow nearer until I can go back to visit again.

29

In our house, most weekday mornings involve the reading of the local newspaper at the breakfast table.  Noah and Will like poring over the hockey statistics (no surprise there!) and I like finding interesting stories (usually ones about fascinating science discoveries or people doing good deeds) to share and talk about with my boys.  Yesterday, a local teenager made my morning when I read about her wonderful idea to make the most of the extra day we all have this month.

Madi MacIntyre, a 17 year old high school student, was talking with her family about what to do with the leap day on February 29th when it dawned on her that having an extra day is not always a happy occasion for those who are sick, or lonely, or struggling in some way.  She decided to find ways to donate 29 of something every day in the month of February -- 29 dollars to a charity, 29 cans of food to the food bank, 29 minutes of time to someone who needs it, and so on -- and she's asking others to consider giving 29 of something in whatever way they can this month, too.  Her idea is selfless and inspiring, and it's incredible to think of the difference we could make in our communities if we all took 29 leaps.

The boys and I embraced this idea enthusiastically, and since we read Madi's story, we've been brainstorming ways in which we could contribute 29 of something ourselves.  Some of the possible good deeds we've thought of include bringing 29 homemade muffins to the boys' school for kids who haven't had breakfast, spending 29 minutes reading with younger children who are having difficulty at school, taking 29 minutes to make Valentines to mail to the boys' great-grandmas, and making 29 more cat toys to bring to the local animal shelter.  I look forward to hearing what other ideas the boys come up with this month, and to working with them to complete as many of these acts of kindness as we can.

It's teenagers like Madi who make me feel very hopeful about the future of our world.  If you would like to learn more about Madi's movement, or are considering taking 29 leaps of your own, you can visit her website at www.29leaps.com .  Pass it on -- by sharing and participating in this lovely idea, together we can fill many hearts with joy this month.

Bitches in bikinis

Before you take offense to the title of today's post, take a look at what I saw as I flipped through yesterday's Wal-mart flyer:


Okay, people, seriously? I saved this flyer to show the boys and have been having fits of hysterical laughter every time I walk by it. Who would buy such a thing?!?

Now, to be fair, I am not a dog person. We share our home with a cat who would never be caught dead in something so ridiculous, so maybe my perception is skewed. Maybe beloved family pets in homes all over North America are staring with secret longing at the Wal-mart flyer, hoping that maybe, just maybe, their owners will part with $5.93 and come home with this season's "must-have" item so they can be one of the "cool" dogs this summer. Maybe little Fifis are foregoing the extra Milk-Bone doggie treats they so dearly love so that they can have the perfect figure to fit into one of these delightful works of canine couture. Maybe Fidos are begging their owners to throw more balls for them to chase so they can build up a six-pack of abs to show off in a Speedo with holes cut in all the most embarrassing places. Somehow, though, I seriously doubt it.

I have seen many dogs wearing sweaters before; this I understand. Our winters are cold and wet, and a sweater makes sense in those circumstances. What possible purpose can a doggie bikini serve? I can just see a family getting ready to drive up to the cottage for the weekend, and packing a little doggie bag with Fido's Speedo in it. Can you imagine the sheer hysteria involved in trying to wrangle Fifi into her bikini before letting her jump off the end of the dock into the lake? Any possible scenario I can imagine involving one of these swimsuits plus a dog is completely absurd.

If nothing else, the idea of dogs in bathing suits is great entertainment for people -- all four of us roared with laughter over the sight of the photo in the Wal-mart flyer. I feel sorry, though, for the Fifis and Fidos who will end up wearing these ludicrous articles of clothing out in public!

What on earth will they think of next?

Bird brain

I am quite certain that I handle enough chaos and odd behaviour at our house in the mornings when I'm trying to get the boys off to school. Apparently, though, Mother Nature thinks otherwise; she sent me a deranged bird to deal with this morning as well.

At precisely 6:22 am, I was talking myself into getting up when I noticed a distinct tapping sound. I listened more carefully and heard it again... and then again: a "tap, tap, tap" followed by a pause, then another "tap, tap, tap" and so on. I thought maybe Will was up to something interesting in his room (believe me, that was entirely possible), but when Matt heard it too, he thought it sounded more like it was coming from outside. I assumed it was the chimney repair guy who had been working on the house two doors down yesterday; I marvelled at his "up and at'em" work philosophy, and went about getting ready for the day.

When Matt came upstairs after eating his breakfast, he told me that the sound was actually coming from a robin who was repeatedly pecking at our dining room window. I found this a little alarming and sad (why would a robin want to peck at the window?) but by the time I got downstairs, I was relieved to see that he was gone. Fast forward to breakfast with the boys when the three of us were jolted by the sound of a repeated "whomping" coming from the front of the house. We ran to the living room and there was the robin, throwing himself again and again at the front window this time, seemingly without any intention of stopping. There were other robins around, too, and they seemed to be either jeering at him, or cheering him on like frat boys after a night of partying, encouraging a wild friend in his ridiculous behaviour. (Seeing as how I don't speak robin, it was hard to tell what exactly they thought of the whole scene.)

You can imagine how distressing this was to a house full of animal lovers. Noah kept going to the window and moving the curtain to try and scare the robin off for his own good, while Will kept worrying that maybe the bird had some strange bird disease that made him want to crash himself into windows. I kept trying to talk sense into the little creature ("OH, bird, WHY do you keep doing that? Go off and find something more fun to do with your time! You're going to hurt yourself!"), as if that was helpful. Finally, when it was time to leave for school, we went out the front door and that seemed to chase him away. We were very relieved that we were able to distract the poor robin from his self-destructive behaviour.

After dropping the boys off at school, I went out in the backyard to do some spring gardening (in the rain, I might add). When I came back inside, guess who had returned? That relentless robin was at it again, throwing himself at the living room window with reckless abandon, over and over and over. He was taking the concept of "Angry Birds" to a whole new level!

By this point I was overwhelmed with curiosity about the situation, and so I googled "why do birds fly at windows?". I found this fascinating article, which completely explains the robin's behaviour. (Notice that it is only the male birds who exhibit this behaviour. I won't comment any further on that.) While I'm relieved to know now that our little robin friend probably won't hurt himself, I'm more than a little alarmed that this could go on for weeks. Maggie the cat finds it very entertaining, but it will pain the boys and I to see or hear much more of the poor bird's self-abuse.

As I'm writing this, the robin has just returned. He's yelling and flinging himself at the window yet again, trying to chase off his perceived foe. When I think he's gone from the front window, he shows up several minutes later at the back window and charges once more. Noah is currently working on designs for somehow insulating the windows or the bird or both, and for building a working model of a real-looking snake to drive the robin away. Whoever said the sounds of nature were soothing certainly never heard this racket. Oh dear. If this keeps up, it's going to be a very long spring....

So said the cat

At the risk of sounding like I either have too much free time on my hands or am losing my mind (neither of which is true, I assure you), I'm going to admit here that I realized something valuable while watching my cat one morning this past week.

I had just come back home after walking the boys to school, and my thoughts were already racing with the million things I wanted to accomplish in the next several hours. The week had felt heavy up to that point, filled with more bumps in the road and worries than average, and I'd been feeling pretty weary and frazzled from its weight. When I started up the stairs to grab the laundry basket, I was stopped suddenly by the sight of Maggie on the level above me. She sat with her head poking through the railing, looking utterly relaxed, in the one beam of sunlight that had found its way through an upstairs window. The warmth of that sunbeam was obviously making her happy, and it was clear that she had sought out that specific spot, claiming her very own little piece of bliss.

I realized in that moment that what Maggie had found was exactly what I needed. While I obviously couldn't abandon all of my responsibilities to adopt a cat's life of leisure, I was also suddenly quite certain that the world would not fall apart if I stopped for a bit to recharge myself. I made a cup of tea, grabbed my pencil and notebook, and found my own bright, warm spot on the living room couch, where the morning rays were lighting up a space just the right size for sitting in. It felt wonderful having that warmth on my face, a rare experience over the last several long winter months, and the act of sitting and taking some time to think calmly made the constant buzzing I'd been hearing all week grow dim. Sure, I still had a million things to do, but the quiet moments I claimed for my own that morning made the mountain seem more manageable. I was grateful for Maggie's reminder that sometimes, less is more.

I think many of us could probably benefit from following Maggie's quiet, sun-seeking lead a little more often. She's a smart girl, that cat... and when I remember sometimes to imitate her perfected style of relaxation, so am I.