Thirty-five children have been abandoned under the Nebraska safe haven law, an intended consequence of a poorly worded piece of legislation.

When lawmakers in Nebraska composed the law, they wanted to provide an anonymous way for parents to leave unwanted infants at hospitals. The parents simply had to say “safe haven” to avoid prosecution for abandonment; the infants would be safely left with health care workers and enter the child protection system for adoption. Many states have this safe haven legislation. It helps prevent poorly equipped parents from leaving babies in stairwells and dumpsters.

As difficult as it is to understand how a parent could leave their baby at a hospital and relinquish their parental responsibilities, it is almost impossible to imagine that parents of school-aged childrens and teens could do the same thing. Several parents have done just that; one father left 9 children, aged 1 to 17, at a hospital in Omaha. Social workers describe children begging their parents to stay. Certainly these kids know what is happening to them when they are left there.

Apparently, the root cause of this epidemic is two-fold. First, Nebraska lawmakers neglected to specify an age limit for the safe haven law. Second, parents are citing behavior and mental health issues as reasons for leaving their children at the hospitals. They are claiming that they love their children but simply cannot cope with them any longer.

In Ontario, a family that needs help coping with difficult children has several avenues, one of which is the local Children’s Aid Society (CAS). According to the parent organization, the Ontario Association of Children’s Aid Societies, the mission of a CAS is to ensure the protection of a child and promote the well-being of a child within its family and community. Contrary to popular belief, CAS does not exist to take children away from parents; it exists to help parents learn to be better at what they do and support their children.

It’s hard to imagine a situation in which a parent has exhausted resources like the local CAS, a family counselling service like KW Family Counseling, parenting classes, mental health services, school resources, and the help of family and friends. Is driving to Nebraska really a parent’s last resort?

For the sake of the children left behind, destined to spend time navigating the protection system, I hope not.

I was asked to read the children’s story in church, and it was suggested to me that I choose a book from the library and read it to the kids. Of course, I decided to write my own little lesson and do it with the children (cause I’m a teacher-in-training). Since it was Nov 9th, I decided to do my lesson about Remembrance Day.

Every single day, I read something about war or its euphemism, conflict. As I thought about what I wanted to say about Remembrance Day, I realized that even as we gather to think about our dead, more dead are piling up somewhere in the world. I wanted the kids to know that we are proud of those who fought for us, and that they left behind so many others who were (and are) affected by war. I wanted the kids to think about all of those people each time they wear a poppy.

I had a clue that my emotions would get the best of me during the singing of O Canada. Something about the communal singing of that anthem touches me, every time I hear it (most embarrassing at hockey or baseball games). I could feel the ball of emotion welling up inside me, and hoped that it wouldn’t spill out during the story.

I started off well enough, but as soon as I came to the part about the people who were left behind, I could hear the tears in my voice. I thought about all of those people who died, people who were young, like me, and had kids, like me, and left wives, like me, behind. Kids, like the ones who were sitting before me, have to carry guns and walk for miles to escape rape and murder. Congregations like the one I was speaking to gather to bury the soldier from his small town, fighting for his country. It was too much, and I cried.

This year is the 90th anniversary of the end of the war to end all wars. If only it was so; lest we forget.

I’ve been away from the blog for awhile, for lots of reasons. The major one has been the difficulty our youngest child has been having adjusting to school, and the attendant problems…not to mention going back to school and teaching myself, homework and hockey and swimming lessons and guitar lessons for our eldest child. Anyway, it has been busy.

The world has been busy too - as you well know, the stock market has been volatile and times have been shaky. The US presidential race has been fascinating due to odd choices in VP candidates, our own election has been heating up recently, and the number one issue has become the scary economic future. Lots going on, all fodder for blogs.

Today, however, I am going to profess a new empathy for one Sarah Palin, the much-maligned and hilariously-spoofed VP candidate assisting (or pulling down) Senator John McCain. There are so many reasons that people have been watching her, and many reasons to talk about her, not the least of which is her expectant teenage daughter. Yesterday I got a taste of how that criticism might feel.

My youngest child, the one having a hard time lately, refused to go swimming at his lesson. As is our custom, I insisted that he stay at poolside until the lesson was over. This lead to a tantrum the likes of which I have not experienced in public. Well, I’ve been reading my guide to the strong-willed child (and trust me, he qualifies), and I knew that I could not give in to this tantrum due to my embarrassment. I had to stick it out and get through it and stay calm. This I managed, to my own surprise.

However, to do so I had to withstand the comments of several other mothers (we were in the girls’ changeroom) to the tune of “It’s so loud, let’s just go” and “Hmmpf.” My other son told me that people were telling our youngest to shut up, and the sidelong looks I was getting were pointed and obvious. So despite the fact that I managed to get him to calm down and realize that his behaviour was inappropriate, I still went home feeling close to tears. As I told a friend, I guessed that at least six couples were likely discussing our behaviour that night.

While I’m not running for office and my face isn’t on Saturday Night Live, I started thinking about the way it must feel to be publicly pilloried. We like to amuse ourselves by making others look bad, and frankly, we feel better about ourselves when someone else screws up. We just don’t tend to like it when the lens is turned back in our own direction. I can’t imagine the pressure Palin is under; I know I would not fare well.

I’m a big believer in empathy. When I see a mom or dad in the middle of a tantrum, I make it a point of smiling or saying “I’ve been there.” Let’s face it; if you have a child, you have been there in some small way. I’m sorry about all of the noise my son was making yesterday at the pool. And if it happens again, I hope you’ll put yourself in my shoes rather than finding fault with me.

You’ve likely heard by now about the controversy surrounding Bisphenol A (BPA), the chemical used to make plastic shatter-proof and to line cans that store things like tuna and beans. It has been shown to leach into liquids, such as formula or breast milk, especially when the plastic container is heated or the liquid is warm.

For once, we are leading the pack in Canada by banning the use of the chemical in baby bottles, and Health Canada is studying the substance to determine whether or not it is harmful. The concern about BPA is that it disrupts hormones in the body. The debate is not about whether it leaches into liquids; according to all parties, it does. One good outcome of the debate is that people are using stainless steel or aluminum bottles for their water. In combination with the waste they create, plastic water bottles are now (as the Globe and Mail puts it) the new faux pas.

Recently, the Food and Drug Administration in the US announced that BPA is safe. Feel free to use your polycarbonate bottles and eat copious quantities of canned food, according to the FDA!

I’m not buying it. I don’t think any level of chemical in my food is okay. Chances are good that it’s too late; According to the Centre for Disease Control (again US), 93% of Americans have traces of the chemicals in their urine. When I think about the way I used to heat milk in my kids’ bottles, I feel a little sick. Even if it’s safe, BPA has no business in their little bodies.

There are lots of reasons to distrust the findings of the FDA, and a simple search of the words Bisphenol A reveals propaganda from both sides of the argument. Time and again, when I start to worry about the chemicals in food and the kinds of fats and carbs I am eating, I come back to Michael Pollan’s mantra: Eat food, not too much, mostly plants. Wise words indeed.

Well, today is my birthday, and I am 36 years old. I am writing about it not to elicit reader wishes or gifts, but because I am having a strange reaction to my birthday this year.

When we are kids, our birthdays mean lots of attention, presents, and the pride that comes with getting older. But for grown-ups, especially women, birthdays can take on a sinister meaning about aging, losing your looks and fertility, sagging in many places, and lots of aches and pains. I’m a little young for that, but the aches and pains are starting and I guess I’m feeling my age a little more than I thought I would this year.

My friend recommended a motorcycle in the case of a mid-life crisis, since it gets you in a lot less trouble than other traditional forms of mid-life self-destructive behavior. Take, for example, John Edwards, who has discovered that he is not immune to public scrutiny for his own mid-life behavior. And his wife has terminal breast cancer. He should be greatly ashamed.

Are my feelings a sign of a mid-life crisis? In the past couple of years I have almost totally reorganized my life - gone back to school to start a new career, decided to spend more time with my kids, lost some weight and improved my fitness. I have had a recent surgery to fix a long-time back problem, and my back is now pain-free (my hips are another story…). All in all, things are going well for me. I have a great husband and lovely children, financial security, and everything I could possible need or want. Hence, I refuse gifts from family (since I don’t need things).

I read recently that thinking about the things you are grateful for once a week significantly increases your happiness. Writing that last paragraph actually made me feel better about my approaching mid-life. Thinking about all of the good things in my life overshadows the feelings of frustration I have about the aging state of my body.

Cards and flowers help too.

I read recently that it is normal for mothers of toddlers to argue with their toddlers an average of 20 times per hour. Parenting Magazine reports that some moms argued with their toddlers as many as 50 times in one hour, a figure the researchers considered in a normal range.

I read this, put down the magazine and said to Pat that I wish I had known this when our youngest was a toddler. Imagine the energy I could have saved worrying about why he’s so difficult and argumentative. Turns out, he’s totally normal!! Turns out, the phase would pass!

I’ve heard it said that the explosion of parenting books and expert advice has caused parents to feel unsure about their skills and instincts. To some extent this rings true to me. I cannot underestimate the damage done to my self-confidence as a parent by the evil book The Baby Whisperer. I’ve learned over time that you have to pick and choose your advice. My mother once quoted Dr. Spock to me: “Trust yourself; you know more than you think”.

Knowing the experiences of other parents can be greatly helpful, however. If I read this figure (average of 20 times per hour - can’t stop shaking my head at that),  I would have had a lot more patience for my little guy knowing that his behavior was developmental and normal, and that other parents were also arguing just as much. Luckily, we made it through some tough years with him relatively unscathed. But I’ve come to think of him as strong-willed and even at times aggressive. This information lets me look at him in a new light. I’m pretty thankful for that.

I have lots of opinions on things that are happening these days, but in honour of summer I am going to give the bleeding-heart liberal diatribe a break. I knew I was getting boring at home when I quizzed Parker about why Spongebob was on a package of water and he said, with a sigh, “Because the company wants kids to buy them…” I had clearly given him this lecture a hundred times!

For fun, I am going to tell you about a couple of blogs I read regularly. Check them out - it’s great reading!

Postsecret - This blog, an online community art project, is a collection of secrets that people create on postcards and mail to the creator, Frank Warren. Every Sunday, he selects several and puts them on the blog. They are crazy, funny, shocking and touching. I check it out every week. Warren has collected some in several books, as well.

Dooce - This is a blog by a stay-at-home mom who used to work as a designer. She writes about everything from kids to clothes and crazy things that happen in her life, and takes amazing photographs. Always entertaining (some possibly offensive language though).

Stuff White People Like -This blog has had a lot of attention but I like it because it is so funny. It’s basically a list of things that white people like, according to the writer, and it is ironic in the extreme. Here’s a sample: “White people all need Starbucks, Second Cup or Coffee Bean. They are also fond of saying “you do NOT want to see me before I get my morning coffee.” White guys will also call it anything but coffee: “rocket fuel,” “java,” “joe,” “black gold,” and so forth.” It’s funny because it’s true! Sometimes it is actually slightly painful to see yourself in your obviousness - like the one about why white people like farmer’s markets (it’s so they can show off their expensive strollers and feel good about their sustainable practices!).

That’s all for now. Just a few tidbits to tempt you into the world of blogging. Who knows, you might decide to try it yourself.

Just a short note on this holiday weekend. I went to a few different stores today trying to find some cute little Canadian flags for our front flower-boxes. No one will likely be surprised by the fact that the ones I found were $.98, and were marked with the inevitable “Made in China”.

I am thinking that, in my next career incarnation, I will open a store stocked with all “Made in North America” goods. Things like Canadian flags…

I am working on a group project for school, and we are designing a mini-unit about ecology for high school students. One of my fellow teacher candidates found this amazing video called The Story of Stuff online.

If you have read this blog a few times, you will likely know that I am a proponent of buying less stuff. I try to teach our kids this too. Why buy something cheap and junky when it will end up in the landfill before you know it? I think they might be starting to get the message. We have periods of time when we refrain from buying any “things”  - not items like clothes or food, but the little items kids like so much. We try to show them that happiness doesn’t come in a plastic bag with a receipt.

After watching this video, I feel like it should be compulsory viewing for all kids and adults. Did you know that 99% of the things that we use our resources to produce end up in the garbage in less than 6 months??

The video shows the progression of consumer goods from extraction to disposal, and I’d be amazed if you weren’t surprised by some of what you hear. We think that we are doing the people of the world a good turn by buying goods made in their countries; wait you see the section on distribution to learn why goods at the local Stuf-Mart are so cheap, and why so many of those people are forced to find work in factories in the first place. Ugh.

Watch the video and you will definitely think twice before you pick up that one-dollar trinket.

I’ve noticed a recent push to make Canadians more aware of mental illness. CBC Radio has been telling Canadian stories of struggles with depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia and anxiety disorders, largely because of Shelagh Roger’s own struggle with depression. The idea is to get people thinking and talking about it so that they can get help and feel less stigma.

The Globe and Mail is in the middle of an excellent series called Breakdown: Canada’s Mental Health Crisis. There are stories of people of all ages suffering from all kinds of mental illness, question and answer sessions with doctors and professionals, and discussions about the way in which the health care system handles mental illness. I was shocked to learn that 1/3 of all hospital stay time is due to mental illness.

As a person who has experienced depression, I can not say enough about the excellent therapists and resources that exist and helped me. I’ve been lucky, and my episodes have been relatively mild. Others are seriously afflicted and have a much harder time finding help. But I applaud the move to talk about mental illness. We likely all know someone who has a problem and hasn’t been able to find the help, and in many cases couldn’t even talk about it. I was astounded when I read that people normally battle anxiety disorders for 15 to 25 years before they get help.

Talking about it is the first step. Let’s stop thinking about people as crazy, and start thinking about them as ill. What a life to lead. Compassion is really the only reasonable and acceptable response to such a struggle.