Perspective through Sacrifice

I recently applied for a job where I was asked to provide a written response to the statement: Describe a major challenge in your life, and how you handled it. Four years ago I would have said that attending full time university while balancing my full-time job, or navigating the mental and emotional rollercoaster associated with a horrific workplace accident my father was involved in. This year, however, my answer is much different. And, quite frankly, my response was littered with more questions than answers.

To date, the greatest challenge I have encountered in life is parenting. I have two delightful daughters, ages one and three. Parenthood is a series of questions, dichotomies and either-ors. The challenge, of course, is that I am supposed to be the leader, developing character whilst instilling value, ethics and fortitude. With each question I engage in, I confront choices related to my own character and attitudes. On days where my tenacious three-year-old chooses to exercise her free will and continuously challenge my requests, will I have enough self control and discipline to remain calm, consistent and kind? After a night of multiple wake-ups due to my child’s illness, rendering me depleted and exhausted, will I choose to see how privileged I am to show love and meet the needs of a sad, sick baby? When I have thirty other tasks on my list of things to do, will I stop to read or paint or snuggle? When teaching the importance of manners and proper behaviour, will I practice patience and model respect? And when I fail, will have the courage to apologize? 

During those moments where I am faced with the opportunity to develop my own character, I do my best to remember that life’s greatest challenges provide perspective. In order to understand true joy, one must understand sorrow. Consistently my children provide me with perspective. Since becoming a parent, I have much deeper appreciation for sleep, silence and microwaved coffee. Since becoming a parent, I have become more self aware, gracious and generous. Since becoming a parent, I have an increased sense of gratitude for my own mother.

As a stay-at-home parent, I have a much richer perspective on both the day-to-day and long-term challenges and decisions my parents–especially my mother–were confronted with. Decisions that impacted her own personal aspirations and goals.

My mom stayed home with my brother and I during our toddler years, choosing to go back to work when we were around ages 5 and 3. When it became clear that the commitment to community committees, coupled with work demands and the overall busyness of life was impacting our family negatively (I was sick all the time, for example), my mom made the hard decision to remove herself from all commitments outside of the home. (Thankfully, my father’s business made enough money that she could choose to quit her job and devote herself entirely to the family.)

As a kid, I know I took her presence in the home for granted. For every meal prepared, bandaid applied or hug needed, she was there. For every birthday party, figure skating competition and drama performance, she was there. I never doubted her attendance or support. I just knew she would be there, because that’s what my mom did. Consistently, she put her family’s interests over her own, choosing to intertwine her identity with ours.

From my perspective as a kid, this transition seemed relatively effortless, but I know now that it was difficult for her. Not difficult in the sense that she didn’t want to be a part of our lives; rather, difficult because the balance of being involved in our lives and having our lives become her life is a very fickle one. Why fickle? Because kids don’t often make decisions based on how others will be impacted. I didn’t understand this until I became a mom.

Early in our teen years, it became evident that my brother and I needed a change of pace from the small town we grew up in. So at the age of 15, my brother left for boarding school. A year later, when my mom saw that the use of drugs and alcohol was my way of dealing with depression, she provided me the same option. She knew that I needed different opportunities and a fresh start. Consequently, 3 days shy of my 14th birthday, I left home.

Yet again, my mom (and dad) made an incredibly difficult decision for the betterment of my brother and I. For 15 years, she intertwined her life with ours, making herself physically present as well as emotionally and mentally available. For 15 years, she kept the home afloat while my dad worked incredibly long, hard hours. For 15 years, we were her priority. And even when she knew that us leaving meant tearing away much of her purpose, she did it anyway. She chose us over her.

When I consider all of the personal sacrifices my mother made on behalf of our family, I am filled with gratitude and thankfulness. Gratitude for her selflessness, and thankfulness for her choice to be present–truly present–in our lives.

And now, over 15 years later, my mom has completed her Bachelors in Social Work and has almost finished her Masters in Counseling. While I know going back to school later in life poses a different set of challenges than parenthood, I am so proud of
her. I am proud of her determination and perseverance. I am proud of her desire to grow and not be stagnant. I am proud of her for
choosing her goals and her aspirations–she didn’t let them die, she simply put them aside.

Finally, Mom, if you are reading this, thank you for modeling courage to me: courage to set aside and modify your aspirations for awhile, and for the courage to pick them up again. You’re an inspiration to many. Happy Mothers’ Day.

 

A note to the peanut gallery

“You really shouldn’t leave your car running in the parking lot,” said the man with his reusable grocery bags tucked underneath his right arm.

“Excuse me?” I replied.

“You shouldn’t leave your car idling. It’s bad for the environment,” he said, his voice escalating.

“Are you kidding me?” I said, doing my best to keep my temper at bay. “My car has been on for 30 seconds while I put my daughter in her car seat.”

“Yeah, whatever–you need to be more environmentally conscious …” he muttered, briskly walking away.

Furious, I yelled: “Thanks for the unsolicited advice. It’s been super helpful!”

Yes, I yelled at a stranger across the grocery store parking lot.

I didn’t yell at him because I don’t care about the environment. I yelled at him because he saw 15 seconds of my life and decided that his personal agenda was to ensure that I knew I was doing my part to strengthen Global Warming.

Photo credit: David Carillet

What Buddy didn’t see is that I loaded my groceries, took my cart back, and then got my 1-year-old settled into her car seat. Following that, I asked my 3-year-old no less than three times to come get into her seat. She was far too immersed with play on the sidewalk and refused to come over. I proceeded to tell her that her sister and I were going home. I hopped in the driver’s seat, turned on the car, and alas! peering in my window was my eldest, ready to get in her car seat. I strapped her in, closed the door, and looked up to see the disapproving eyes of some dude who has no context for anything.

What Buddy didn’t see is that not only did I bring reusable grocery bags to the store, I also brought my coffee in a travel mug, mine and my daughter’s drinks in reusable water bottles, and that I purchased as many organic and fare trade grocery items as our budget allows, knowing that certain types of food production, as well as waste, places an enormous burden on our earth.

What Buddy doesn’t see is that I am exhausted. I am operating on minimal sleep, spending my days with two beautiful creatures that insist on expressing their individuality and challenging me with their free will. All day long I am disciplining, teaching, engaging, inspiring, cheerleading, negotiating, coercing … I am bending over backwards trying to raise kids that think about other people and treat each other kindly. I am trying to model kindness (I definitely failed the test in the parking lot!). And the truth is, none of that stops when I leave the house. It extends.

What Buddy doesn’t see is that his trip to the grocery store looks very different from mine. A visit for him likely involves walking into the store, selecting items, putting them in his cart and paying. For me (and any other parent that bring their kids to the store), it involves strategy. A helluva lot of strategy. I do my best to shop at certain times of day when the kids are rested and in decent spirits. I pack snacks, drinks and play field-trip leader while navigating through the aisles. I make sure everyone has used the bathroom. I write my grocery list in order of where I need to walk in the store, and heaven forbid I realize I missed something in the pharmacy section when I am the produce department! I am constantly talking, asking questions and redirecting attentions. I am disciplining, mediating and doing my best to be the adult. When I get to the parking lot and finally have my kids and groceries loaded, the last thing I want to hear is a comment from the peanut gallery–from someone who observed me for an eighth of a minute!

This got me thinking about how normal it has become for individuals in our society to critique and scrutinize one another on the basis of perception. We feel we are entitled to do so. But, perception is a person’s reality; it’s important for people to understand that perception is often flawed. Here’s a great example: a mother from Winnipeg, Manitoba had to endure a full interrogation from Child Family Services (CFS) after a neighbor reported that her children were left unattended while playing in the family’s fenced-in backyard. The children are ages ten, five and two. The neighbor saw the children, perceiving that they weren’t being supervised. What the neighbor didn’t see was that the mother was in the home, tidying up on the main floor, and that she had full views of her kids through the windows; the neighbor didn’t see or witness conversations about strangers that the parents have had with their children; the neighbor didn’t see a lot.

Much like Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, we are a society that sees shadows of truth and interpret them as reality. Social media, for example, has created a space where individuals can say whatever they want with no regard for facts. There’s no meter filtering statements with a true or false button. It’s all based on matters of opinion–opinions that have largely been created by perception.

Credit: Kerry Halladay

 

 

So, to all of us that have been or are currently a part of the peanut gallery: let’s try to use our eyes and ears before speaking. If you feel the incessant desire to share your opinion all the time–because surely you are right–don’t. Chances are you could do some learning through observation first. And don’t just observe the shadows, come out into the light and wait for your eyes to adjust. That’s what I am going to try to do. It may be awkward, and the adjustment from dark to light may hurt a bit, but it’ll be worth it in the end. Because we simply don’t know the situation the other person is in that has called for a specific action.

 

Why I delayed my child’s vaccinations

Up until last week, I intentionally avoided the trending vaccination discussions on social media because I thought most discussions to be rude, self-righteous, condescending and disrespectful from both pro-vaxxers and anti-vaxxers alike. While this isn’t to suggest that everyone joining the conversation contributes to the hostility, I’ve observed enough forums that I thought it pertinent to join the discussion, hoping to contribute positively. With this in mind, I posted an imperfect article on my Facebook wall that highlights some of the fallacies on both sides of the vaccine debate. At first the comments were thoughtful, considerate, informative, and respectful. Then one person commented, suggesting that anyone who didn’t vaccinate their children according to “medical protocol” is an “unfit citizen and a questionable parent.” While this individual was likely trying to add a little drama to the discussion, he successfully brought it to a close, and inspired me to write a blog post about it. Without further ado…

Why question the suggested vaccination timeline? 

Let me preface this section by saying: I’m not a conspiracy theorist. I don’t think the MMR vaccine leads directly to autism, and I have great respect for the science and medical fields. I AM, however, a label reader, a researcher (not professionally), and a person that likes to understand processes — especially when it involves my children consuming something.

I try to live a life of intention. I seek to be purposeful and mindful. Naturally, if I’m going to read the labels on the cereal box or learn what they’re spraying on my fruit, I’m going to research what’s about to be injected into my kid, including any consequences.

Here are two examples of what I found:

In PEDIACEL® (the DTaP-IPV-Hib a.k.a. 5-in-one vaccine), and QUADRACEL® (DTaP-IPV a.k.a. 4-in-one vaccine) the non-medical ingredients include:

• aluminum phosphate – the adjuvant used to increase the effectiveness of the vaccine
• 2-phenoxyethanol – the preservative
• polysorbate 80 – the agent used to increase the solubility of the ingredients. (Side note: This is found in everything from cosmetics to ice cream. Interestingly enough, in a 1993 study, it was linked to infertility in mice.)
• bovine serum albumin – type of protein
• neomycin – type of antibiotic
• polymyxin B – type of antibiotic
• trace amounts of streptomycin (antibiotic), formaldehyde and glutaraldehyde (sterilizing agent) [i] [ii]

Okay, so there are obviously quite a few “extra” ingredients that are added in the vaccine. I understand that scientists aren’t chucking this stuff in for fun, there IS purpose to having each of these components included. I have also done enough reading to know that we humans already have stuff like formaldehyde in our bodies, and that we are quite capable of metabolizing the rest of the ingredients. Moving on…

According to Sanofi Pasteur Ltd., Canadian manufacturer of PEDIACEL® and QUADRACEL®, there are several potential side effects to receiving these vaccines. In addition to common and less serious reactions such as injection site swelling and tenderness, or fever, fussiness, crying, diarrhea, and vomiting, other potential reactions include:

• Encephalopathy — e.g., coma, decreased level of consciousness, prolonged seizures
• Neurologic disorders, including infantile spasms, uncontrolled epilepsy, and progressive encephalopathy.
• Sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS)
• Anaphylaxis
• Brachial Neuritis
• Guillain-Barré syndrome (GBS) [i] [ii]

This is what got my attention. This came directly from the manufacturer, not from a blogger or pseudo-scientist or Jenny McCarthy. Straight from the manufacturer. Vaccine related injuries are a real thing, yet people act like they don’t exist. And while the statistical probability of one of these extreme reactions is something like 1 in every 250,000 people, they do still happen. It seems that vaccinations are safe … for most people. What happens when a child becomes that 1 out of hundreds of thousands of people? Devastation. The film The Greater Good follows three families that are those statistical anomalies, highlighting that vaccine injuries exist, and today I read another story about a child that received permanent brain damage following the receipt of the MMRV vaccine.

Why do most people process and respond positively to vaccines while others don’t? I don’t know; and it seems that the medical and science communities also don’t know. That isn’t to say that scientists and immunologists aren’t doing their do diligence to find out — more testing and research needs to be done and is being done. It is for this exact reason that I am against mandatory implementation of vaccines. Parents need to be aware of all the risks, making an informed decision.

So, why did I delay them?

Admittedly, after reading the ingredients list and potential side effects, I was overwhelmed. I wanted more time to process the pros and cons of vaccinations, resulting in two simple reasons to postpone them.

1. My daughter was low risk

The largest reason I delayed vaccinations is because my daughter was extremely low risk for contracting and/or spreading any of the illnesses that vaccinations cover in the first year. She was not in a day home/daycare, attending school, or participating in any clubs. Further to that, she spent 90% of her time at home with either her father, her nanny or I, all of whom are fully vaccinated.

2. Only breast milk was served

The composition of breast milk is incredible! Not only does it provide custom nutrients to our children, it delivers significant immunological protection. There is LOTS of evidence to support this, including better immunity inducing properties than what infant formula provides. (For anyone interested, you can find some fascinating articles about human milk and the production of intestinal microflora here, here, here, and here.)

“But Brandi,” you may be thinking, “breast milk hasn’t been empirically proven to provide immunity against the measles or polio or diphtheria or…” You may be correct, but it has been proven to help fight against diseases and infections. While it may not be able to completely prevent an unvaccinated child from contracting the measles, for example, it will sure as heck help get rid of the illness! And, as per the aforementioned point about being low risk, I was wiling to take the calculated risk that my daughter wouldn’t get sick. And she didn’t.

Benefits of delaying…

By delaying my daughter’s vaccines, we reduced the number of needles by four. FOUR less injections because, according to the two nurses that administered the vaccines, she had built up enough immunity against the Pneumococcal (PCV13) and Meningococcal (Men C) illnesses on her own that she didn’t require the full dosage — instead of four injections of the PCV13 vaccine, she received one; instead of two rounds of the Men C vaccine, she received one.

Final thoughts

I support science, acknowledging that research is a process. In the same way that Canada replaced the the live oral polio vaccine (OPV) in 1995 with the inactivated polio vaccine (IPV) “to avoid further cases of vaccine-associated paralytic poliomyelitis (VAPP),” [iii] I suspect they will replace the agent(s) discovered to cause neurological damage, etc. once they know what they are. Or, at the very least, they’ll discover the genetic link (if there is one) responsible for anaphylaxis and/or other severe reactions to vaccines, taking the necessary precautions for any individuals susceptible.

I wrote this lengthy piece because I am tired of reading that non-vaxxers or those that delay vaccines are “misinformed” or are “stupid” or are “crackpots.” I’m tired of the discussion resembling a disagreement between junior high kids. Chances are, most of us — pro and anti vaxxers — are concerned parents trying to make the best decisions for our kids. No one is trying to make someone else’s kid sick. No one is trying to prevent families from going on a holiday to Disneyland.

For me, I took a realistic look at the risks my child posed to herself and everyone else, and then made a decision. In the end, the decision I made to vaccinate was for you, the herd. As much as I don’t want want my daughter to contract a terrible illness, I REALLY don’t want her to be the source/cause of someone else getting it — especially someone in an vulnerable situation (i.e. cancer patient, infant…).

Lastly, my second child’s 2-month vaccination appointment is scheduled for early March. Her exposure and risk is much higher than my eldest daughter’s ever was, and I am now weighing the pros and cons…

Disclaimer: If you wish to comment, please do so in a respectful manner. Anything rude, such as name-calling, will not be approved for posting.

---

References:

[i] Sanofi Pasteur Limited. (2012). PEDIACEL® Product Monograph. Retrieved from https://www.vaccineshoppecanada.com/document.cfm?file=Pediacel_E.pdf

[ii] Sanofi Pasteur Limited. (2011). QUADRACEL® Product Monograph. Retrieved from https://www.vaccineshoppecanada.com/document.cfm?file=Quadracel_E.pdf

[iii] Canadian Public Health Association. (2015). Immunization Timeline. Retrieved from http://www.cpha.ca/en/programs/history/achievements/12-v/timeline.aspx

Whole and Beautiful

Society’s notion on beauty is a complicated one. And as I attempt to live a life of integrity and authenticity within my roles as amother and an egalitarian, I find it too easy to be hypocritical about this issue of beauty. Since SO much of a woman’s importance is placed on how she presents herself, it’s a tricky balance to model a healthy antithesis to society’s encouragement of narcissism and ostentation.

I have had the fortune of being privy to many beauty-related conversations girlfriends of mine have had with their daughters, most of whom are under the age of 7. Usually the conversation is in the context of the mom encouraging her daughter, emphasizing that her daughter is beautiful (inside and out), and that she doesn’t need to change herself. She’s been created perfect just the way she is. Inevitably, the conversation turns when the daughter inquires about why her mom changes her appearance.

Why do you wear make-up?

Why do you dye your hair?

Needless to say, this is the junction where modelling the healthy antithesis to vanity and narcissism would come in handy. (Thankfully my daughter isn’t of age to ask me that today; otherwise, I would have to concede that I am a hypocrite and that I buy into – figuratively and literally – a billion dollar industry that tells me I’m not okay…). I’ve heard many women chime in about what they would say if their child asked, and typically, the response is something like this.

It’s fun, and I like to play with colours [of eye shadow and lipstick].

Really, ladies? Really!? The MAIN reason you wear make-up and colour your greying roots is because it’s fun? I beg to differ. My suspicion is that the MAIN reason you wear make-up or colour your hair is because you feel self-conscious. After all, we’ve been bread to feel self-conscious and uncomfortable in our own skin UNLESS we do something to ‘fix’ it.

Don’t we do a disservice to our daughters (and sons) when we’re not honest about this? Don’t we do a disservice to ourselves? Our children are already being sold images and ideas about the expectations of genders, and for women, one of these expectations is to appear polished, presenting the ‘best’ physical version of yourself. Why can’t we tell them that? Why are we hesitant to be transparent with them about this reality? Perhaps if we talk openly about this, engaging in some hard conversations, (not to mention attempt to model what it’s like to truly be comfortable in our own skins), our daughters and sons will grow up with the ability to critically think about the images and ideas they’re being sold.

And in the midst of those conversations, maybe we can move beyond the media’s depiction of beauty to talking about what it means to be whole and beautiful, not simply a shell and beautiful. We can talk about the beauty in:

• Wisdom, sharing stories about our grandmothers.
• A great sense of humour, and how laughter can brighten the darkest situations.
• A genuine smile. One that reflects contentment and shines through your eyes, not simply your teeth.
• A heart that is kind, choosing to see the best in people, even when they are at their worst.
• Empathy and compassion, emphasizing that the world needs more examples of this.
• The life Christ lived. Whether you believe in Jesus or not, observing His example and how he treated people encompasses all of the above points…

And maybe, just maybe, as we start having these conversations with our daughters and sons, we will think more critically too. We will remember that wisdom, humour, authenticity, kindness, empathy, compassion… are all more important than our shell. So while we still may choose to wear make-up or colour our hair, our value won’t be found in and through that.

Our antithesis will be the whole version of beautiful and how to share that with others.

Thankful for the Struggle

It’s no secret that life can be hard. Really, really hard. For me, the last year and a half has been one that encompassed change. Change and adaptation that is and was necessary for me to move forward. Change that ultimately, if I allow it, will help me to redefine who I am and was as a person. And if I’m being honest with myself, at the core of this change exists a great Struggle. An internal Struggle that makes things hard.

While I think this Struggle is pertinent to many things — especially arenas in life that challenge our own self-awareness — I can easily see this toil manifest itself in relationships of all kinds, and for me, in parenthood. 15 years ago, the Struggle was adapting my lifestyle to include the concerns of my roommates and friends. 10 years ago, the Struggle was redefining myself in the context of being a wife and life partner to someone, and what it meant to intertwine my life with his without losing my identity in him and his in me; it was discovering how to grow as an individual and also as a unit. Over the last 17 months, the Struggle has been finding the tricky balance of  learning who I am as a mother, allowing it to change me, but not drown my sense of self.

Is this Struggle a bad thing? I think not. I believe it to be an important thing. An important, refining process of self. One that if we choose to be aware of can make us better.

What’s your Struggle?

At the risk of sounding a bit cheesy, I figure that life is one long process of beginning as a caterpillar and somewhere along the way, emerging as a butterfly. But, if we don’t embrace life’s challenges and hardships, we emerge prematurely and undeveloped, missing the necessary lessons that impact our refinement. Or, we never really materialize at all; we are hallow and shallow, oblivious to our own nature.

Despite my roommates, my husband, and my daughter, at the core, I am still the same person, but perhaps a better version of myself because I’ve allowed life’s transitions and Struggles to purge that which needed purging.

• I’m a little softer than I was before. Not a cushy soft; rather, a malleable soft. I’m more flexible and understanding…
• I have a new appreciation for time. I used to be so selfish with the hours in my day. And while I have always acknowledged time as a commodity, I took that commodity for granted.
• I am definitely more sleep deprived, but perhaps that makes me a more gracious person, because I now understand the difficulty associated with remaining patient and kind and loving when all you want is another hour (or 20) of sleep.
• I have a new sense of humility and gratitude associated with learning. Few things in life can humble a person more than witnessing the learning of a child. Everything is new and fresh and to be discovered. The lens in which a child sees life is refreshing, and what’s more, ALL of humanity started off in a similar state. Amazing!

So while I could have clung to every aspect of who I was before, I think I would have missed seeing so many important, beautiful things. I would have missed many vital lessons and joys and pains required for me to emerge more whole than I was before. For that, for the Struggle, I am thankful.