Social Networking meet the Olympics

I saw a quick news story (aren’t they all quick though) the other day about a woman carrying the torch on an electric scooter. Touted as an environmentalist, she once was being dragged off a Clayquot logging road blockade and today is the executive director of PowerUP Canada and a cofounder of ForestEthics both of which work with huge corporations in trying to protect the environment. While you may expect to see her leading a protest against the Olympic games, here she is carrying the torch. News stories being what they are, the clip ended just as my questions were beginning. I google her to get my answers.

Basically, I find out that her name is Tzeporah Berman and she is indeed controversial. Many of her fellow environmentalists label her a traitor, even before holding the torch. I will leave it to you decide if her environmental work is authentic or a sell-out. But what I would like to note here is the diverse articles I was able to pull up to read about her. Everything from the mainstream city newspaper to her personal blog to what Huffington Post writer Andy Miah calls new media activism. I could read differing viewpoints, insights and angles to this woman and her work and I enjoyed the process. I enjoyed deciding for myself what I thought of her.

Along the same time I am reading these articles, I come across that same Huffington Post writer and his article predicting that this new media activism is what is going to be the most controversial about these Olympics. This will be the first Olympic games in the time of social networking sites and blogs. At a time when the IOC seems to have gone overboard in protecting their sponsors and trademarks, anybody can say whatever they want, however they want to anybody who has the wherewithal to find them.

Gone are the days where we are at the mercy of the sponsoring network and media’s portrayal of the event. Now we have the independent reports, the bloggers, the environmentalists and social activists to weigh in through social networking sites, cell phones and blogs. Now we will hear the good, flawed, memorable and misrepresented. It’s not the truth we will get so much as a more rounded, realistic view of the games. Will the two styles of media battle each other? Contradict one another? Or will it be more complimentary? Time will tell. I for one, look forward to the differing views and coming up with my own opinions and reflections.

The political spectrum of Vancouver is diverse and its people should be, both, permitted to enjoy their Games, as well as draw attention to the perceived social injustices the Games process has highlighted and even augmented.

Let’s show the world the real Vancouver-Whistler. Not the pretty, glossy brochure one but the complex, diverse messiness that makes us fascinating. I’m betting that all these new forms of communication will give layer to our city. The more layers, the more to discover. And let me tell you, us westcoasters know a thing or two about layers.

On Bad Days

The exact same things that have me in awe of my kids one day, drive me absolutely insane the next. Yes, there are countless poetic quotes about how a situation is only positive or negative depending on my own perspective. Choose to see the positive and that is what it will be. Blah, blah. These people do not have two snotty-nosed whiny, temper-tantruming children to deal with obviously.

What yesterday was dogged determination in Brennyn, today is stubborn inflexibility. While yesterday I am endeared by Kaya’s sensitive soul, today I am at my wits end at her whining over-sensitivity.

She cried over the Wii Fit’s tightrope walking game for God’s sake! The Mii cries when starting to get off balance and this, oh yes this, made Kaya cry. Seriously. And forget about sword-fighting with her mommy. When she sent me barreling over the edge of the platform we are ‘fighting’ on, she vehemently starts shaking her head saying ‘No, I don’t like this one mommy” with eyes as moist as a rainforests dewy dawn. She won for crying out loud! But alas, that to her, is not fun. Not at all.

Oh well, best quit anyways as Brennyn is pouncing upon the nunchuk. Not even a head plant into the too dirty floor is going to stop her. Nor the fact that she can not yet crawl. She is just going to shimmy, reach, squirm, claw her way to it. And if that doesn’t work? Scream. Relentlessly.

About to lose my temper, I stop, breathe, and look at my two girls.

Whereby I immediately see myself in them. So different yet so much of me. In both of them. No wonder they’re driving me so crazy. They are mirroring my own issues. With Kaya, I see myself as a girl. Shy, scared to speak up for fear of getting it wrong. With Brennyn, well she knows what she wants when she wants it and when you have two of us as certain about what we want when we want and those wants do not match, well, let’s just say we do not need a Wii console to do our fighting.

Do any enlightened people have children? Oprah doesn’t. Do any of her enlightened guests? The Secret writer? Eckhart Tolle? Cheryl Richardson? Hmmm, I can’t find any info online. I am thinking not. Since having children brings up every issue you’ve ever dealt with from childhood to now and throws it in your face to deal with. Again. Why didn’t that come up in any of the baby books? Shit. I am in big, big trouble come teenage years.

Oh, is that why my mother and I fought so much during those years? Because we are so similar? Oh shit.

Are these revelations what they call enlightenment? Because I was sort of hoping more of a ‘I envision the winning lotto numbers and thus KaZam, the winning lotto numbers shall appear!’

No?

Ah shit.

On Good Days

There are moments when you look at your children and are all damn, you are amazing!

With Brennyn, it is her dogged will to grasp the one thing just out of reach that she knows she can’t have. If I have a rattle out for her, she lunges for the dog bone. If a squeaky, crinkly toy is provided, she grasps for the too small Kaya toy. If I provide a larger Kaya toy, she wants the TV remote. If I give her an old broken TV remote, she wants the Wii remote. Then amazingly, against all odds, she finds a way to reach it. No matter how far away it looks to me. Next thing I know she has a firm grip, a mischievous grin, and a wide, slobbery mouth readying for impact.

I can not help but admire her tenacity. She sets lofty goals, achieves them and moves on to the next. This girl is going to do great things in this world.

Kaya too is going to accomplish amazing things. Only in a quieter way I suspect. She’s going to be the hero, the helper, the guide. For Kaya is a sensitive soul who’s motto is ‘Don’t Be Sad, Be Glad!’ often said to her screaming ‘Brenny Claire-Bear’.

She is the one who worries about the kid at the playground crying over a scraped knee. She wants to know the burned building is going to be fixed. In her reflective time before bed, she is the one who brings up fights at daycare or getting in trouble from mommy or the broken toy. She is constantly looking for solutions to these problems. Yes, Kaya has her own lofty goals. That of saving the world. No biggy.

Most days I am in awe of my girls. Most parents are I suppose. Just as most parents also have moments when you look at your children, shake your head and are all, you try my patience child.

Stay tuned tomorrow for that side of the story…

A Different Kind of Lesson

Hopeful eyes peer up at me.

“Mommy, is this like kids beer?”

Sorry child, you’re about as likely getting a drink of that as you are of getting a sip of wine from me or a gulp of beer from daddy. Not happening.

Torch is in Town

The Olympics are teaching my three-year-old more than just sport. They are teaching her about:

Accomplishment

Sharing

Local History

Pride

Community Spirit

and Fun!

Lessons we could all aspire too.

Vasectomy or Crazy

I have been feeling a little, no, a lot, psychotic on edge of late. Kaya would be the first to tell you this if she could formulate her words to describe how she feels. One minute I am happy and calm and content. Then suddenly I am over-reacting to absolute nonsense. I get frustrated easy, yell swiftly and move onto laughing within a two-minute commercial break.  I did not even realize this was happening until the other day when Kaya spilled some water.

Panicked, she immediately turns her wide brown eyes up at me, eyebrows rainbow arched, and stammers “It’s okay mommy.”

Yah. Of course it’s okay.

Then she runs to the kitchen to get a towel before I have a chance and runs back to clean it.

In this moment I see that she is trying to avoid, at all costs, her mommy’s yell.

Oh shit, I have been yelling haven’t I. Over trivial nonsense. Suddenly the magnitude of how my bad mood can affect my child so entirely shakes me. And this has not been a couple-hour grumpy mamma. This has been a two month, switch on and off at will, miserable mamma. Two months. Interesting since two months ago I started back on the pill.

Damn you birth control and your wacky hormone changes. Amidst cleaning, caring for, feeding and raising two kids, I knew that I hadn’t been myself but I hadn’t allowed myself a moment to consider why. Hormonal angst. That’s why.

Obviously it is time for Bal to go get his scrotum tampered with. And while this terrifies most of the male species, Bal, well I am pretty sure that he is more scared of the Moody Chick on hormones. Can’t say as I blame him.

Blueballs to numbnuts it is then…

Inspired

Two women in my community have changed my life today and neither of them know it. Both are pre-school teachers and both kick ass.

While I sit around moping about rainy westcoast winters, not being able to lose the last 5lbs, and lack of energy, these women are out there, bettering themselves and inspiring people.

I do not know either of them personally. One is the preschool teacher of a friend of mines two boys. The other is Kaya’s preschool teacher.

The first is in a wheelchair after becoming a paraplegic six years ago after an accident. She does not feel sorry for herself. Probably never even crossed her mind to do so. Which is one of those lessons best not taught but seen by example. What a gift to her students. This week has been a big one for her. First she was chosen as the person who will light the cauldron at the Olympic torch ceremony when it comes to town on Thursday, then she was chosen as Citizen of the Year in our town. Not only is she a teacher, a preschool/daycare teacher who, let’s face it, make a meager salary, she also volunteers with Big Sisters, plays wheelchair Rugby, volunteers with Rick Hansen Wheels in motion and is participating in the opening ceremonies for the Paralympic games. January/February rain is not slowing this woman down.

Then there is Kaya’s teacher. Right this very minute, she is running in Costa Rica, on day 4 of a 6 day expedition race. She ran 62.4 km the other day! 11.5 hours running. And that was just day 2. She is running at least 30km a day for 6 days. Seriously.

Yes, it has crossed my mind that perhaps letting a crazy woman teach my daughter is not wise. But this is good-crazy and everybody should have a little good-crazy in their lives. The amazing communication tool that is Facebook has allowed for constant updates and tracking her progress possible. While I sit at my desk, absorbed in neave.com, she is running through rainforests and crossing rivers and swimming under waterfalls. She is doing it. She has trained hard for 7 months, scrimped and saved to be able to pay to run her ass off for 6 days, and now she is there, she is doing it. Running with professional expedition racers. Our daughter’s daycare teacher. Doing it. Awesome.

So yes, these women have changed my life today. No more moping or making excuses about why I can’t get outside or find time to write. Time to go for a run (a sensible 30 minute one) then time to submit some articles. I too, am going to do it.

Calvin is Evil

I got my block super cheap off Craigslist. It’s huge. Taking up my entire desk. Kaya and I are going to draw monsters and ghosts all over it. ‘Happy Ghosts Mom!’ Yours maybe child.

So yes, total writer’s block these days. A ton of things to write about, but no words are flowing. I think it’s because I’m reading a book about how to get your creative juices flowing and the first sentence in such a book should read “DO NOT READ ME. GO AWAY. JUST WRITE!”

I wonder if I could publish such a book?

You know you have writer’s block when:

• You organize your bookmarks folder
• you link to link to link to link forever and a day even if you are mind-numbingly BORED
• you check out tweets (nope, still don’t understand…)
• you refresh your facebook page every 23 seconds
• you have a list of lexulous matches and are equally passionate about each one
• you clean doors, frames, knobs, trim, fans
• you dust
• you read blog after blog of people you do not give a shit about
• you have a nap
• you make your own cards
• you spend evil amounts of time playing on picnik.com
• you read every single recap of Lost, then download the free seasons 1-5 recap, then read more recaps of Lost and get really excited by a timeline of Lost
• you blog about how pathetically blocked you are

The most shocking thing on that list is that I organized my bookmark folder. I should say partially organized. Because I went through each and every bookmark so I could decide which to delete which was great until I hit some really good ones and couldn’t stop reading them. The problem with so many bookmarks is that you never actually remember that you have some really cool stuff to go back and check out.

Here, my top 3 forgotten bookmarks:

3. Scooby Doo Quotes Because seriously, who doesn’t love a good Scooby Doo quote? I keep thinking that something is going to happen in my life whereby I can use a Scooby Doo quote but I am just not mysterious enough (nor high enough I think). My favourite has to be Daffane’s lightbulb moment: “Wait a minute… Ghosts can’t leave fingerprints…” But I also aspire in my life to say this at least once: “I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for you meddling kids!”

2. La Blogotheque I mean, it is just amazing music. I could, and have, spent hours just browsing through, discovering new artists, memorizing jaw-dropping lyrics. Love it!

1. Neave.com Oh Neave. How I love and hate you all at the same time. You are pointless. Trivial. Mind-numbing. You can waste a day like no other. Remember back in the day, before satellite tv and pvr’s? Remember channel surfing? I miss channel surfing. Flick-flick-flick-flick-flick-stop-stay-laugh-flick-flick-action!-commercial-flick-flick. You could be watching tv for 4 hours and not watch one real thing. Oh Neave. How did you know my longing for such nothingness? Seriously, if you’ve never been, set aside an hour and go to the channel surfing section. You will get absolutely nothing accomplished. And you will love it.
Have I mentioned that I am torturing myself again by partaking in NaBloPoMo for February? With writer’s block. Brilliant. I expect a lot of quality time with Neave this month. And Scooby Doo.

Oh Jinkes…

Grammy Observations

Grammy women rock my world. Come on? Pink? Hello. Amazing. I had to make a bathroom break to vomit just watching her. And she sang throughout? Sang beautifully. Incredible.

Beyonce. Stunning. Powerful. Genuine. Gracious. Not really a fan of her music to be honest but she’s an impressive act.

Taylor Swift. Cute and sweet and real and a kick-ass song writer and singer. Talent and true humility. I don’t even want to like this girl but I can’t help it.

Lady Gaga. I mean come on. She fucking rocks. She’s crazy and gorgeous and crazy some more.

These are some strong, powerful women and I am just grateful that I chose this as the first award show I have watched in, oh, at least 5 years.

The only time I did not feel all ‘women empowered!’ was when Taylor Swift won for best country album and she hugged her mom. Maybe it’s just me, but I had a sense that mom was not in a genuine moment of joy for her daughter. I felt more of a ‘oh shit, the camera’s are on me and my ass right now’ moment. I could be totally wrong.

What was up with all the people not wearing 3d glasses to watch the Michael Jackson tribute? Did they think they would look dorky? Loving Beyonce boppin up and down in pure enjoyment with the silly glasses on. I totally predict designer 3d glasses in the upcoming year. Lame.

And why too do the stars, the famous people, not feel inclined to get up and dance or give an ovation? Can they not appreciate other artists even while competing with them? I am not sure about this, but I don’t think any of the front row crowd stood up for Lady Gaga and Elton John. Seriously? That was awesome. Show your love stars. Show some love.

That’s all from me. But Kaya would like the last word.

“I like that music show. I want to do that. Can we go see that? They are beeeautiful. And I can shake my booty!”

It Takes All Kinds

There are those people* in the world who, oh say, perform brain surgery on a 12-year-old girl, saving her life, in the morning and then proceed to interview Bill Clinton in the afternoon. Just another day.

And there are those people* in the world who determines the day a success when she manages to wear the same outfit in the afternoon as she did in the morning, without one puke, spittles, poop or food splatter upon it!

Amazing feat of accomplishments the both of you.

*names withheld for fear of flaunting both amazing feats of excellence.