Someday

Someday I will have my own farm, and raise Nubian goats, hens and grow a massive vegetable garden

Someday I will join a choir and let loose my singing voice

Someday I will take that French course and become bilingual

Someday I will travel to Scandanavia....and Eastern Europe...and every state in the US...and New Zealand...and....oh, too many!

Someday I will learn how to golf, and will become a serious match for hubby

Someday I will have more money to donate to the causes I care so much about

Someday I will travel overseas as a doula, and support women in developing countries

Someday I will finally learn how to reduce stress

Someday I will have a conservatory, and will spend my mornings in the cool sweetness of a residential greenhouse

Someday I will be able to say "I know myself, and I'm OK"

What will you do someday?

BMI: Better Meaning for It?

Oh....the BMI. Sigh.

Touted as THE measurement of body fat, it is based on a calculation of our weight and height. If you've been living under a rock these past twenty years, do a little Google search and calculate your own BMI. Where do you fall on the curve?

How do I hate the BMI? Let me count the ways:

1) It lumps individuals into categories - uber-skinny, thin, "normal" (whatever that means), overweight and obese

2) It is reductive

3) It shows nothing about a person's overall health

4) It is pervasive - used in every part of our health care system as a measuring stick for "good" and "bad" (i.e. skinny and fat)

In prenatal care, women with high BMIs are immediately slated for special (i.e. high-risk) treatment. If you didn't already know you had to lose a few pounds, watch out, because you'll certainly know now! You may be lucky and score a decent doctor, who is respectful, kind and willing to treat you as a person. But you may be unlucky to get stuck with a doctor who sees you only as BMI 32 (or wherever you land on that retched curve).

I can't understand how a medical community that is so research-focused and relies only on evidence-based information could miss the boat on this one. The BMI is only useful in context; in relation to a woman's overall health. I know plenty of women that fall over the "overweight" or "obese" line, and who are clearly neither. And yet because they walk around with that number tatooed on their face, their prenatal care can be significantly compromised.

There are plenty of studies out there showing that BMI is not successful in determining an individual's overall health. I won't begin referencing them here, but a quick Wikipedia search will put you in the right direction.

Instead, I have come up with several different meanings for the acronym BMI, just for fun. Play along and send me some more!


Bogus Measuring Instrument

Belittling Methodological Idea

Bitchy Medical Interns

Brainwashing Method (made by) Idiots

BITE ME INDEX

Singing a sweet song

I'm joining Capital Mom today by blogging about a moment from my life based on a theme she has provided. This week’s Monday Moment theme is Singing. Check out all the other great bloggers following Monday Moments.

There was a time in my life that I could say "I'm a singer." I wrote songs. I recorded them. And I belted them out as a busker and amateur open mic night-gal.

In high school, my piano teacher used to say to me: "you would be such a great pianist if you could just put some passion into your playing."

But I couldn't find the passion. I instead found fear - lots and lots of fear.

My stage fright grew to epic proportions in high school, when I would be forced to play a "test" in front of the class, all the while shaking so badly that the bow would bounce and skitter across my strings.

My fear of failing meant that I could never pour my heart and soul into music. The "perfect" performance was always there, snickering at me from behind the curtain. And so I turned away from music, and life sent me in a different direction....until I decided it was time to face my fear.

I joined a singing group with coach Art Nefsky, an eccentric (but very amiable!) fellow in Toronto. The classes consisted of a small group of individuals - all with great voices - who were absolutely terrified to perform in front of others. We would get up on his little stage and sing to a karaoke machine, while he would lob instructions our way: "Sing like you're drunk!" "Pretend you're Beyonce Knowles!" "OK, now do that again, only begin every word with an F!" Soon we'd be singing with abandon, not really caring how ridiculous we looked. Because, damn, we sounded good!

Although I moved away from Toronto and Art's basement studio, I took my new found confidence with me. I even recorded several songs I had written, just to be able to say "that's my song."

My CD sits on a shelf now, and I look at it wistfully from time-to-time. I know friends that have made music their life, and I am sometimes jealous of them, touring the country and performing. But although I wish I had more time to play and sing, I feel a sense of pride at having silenced my fear and amplified my voice.

Here's to sweet songs.

Thank goodness for neighbours!

Image Source: froghollow.bc.ca

Hubby and I have lived in many places - St. Catharines, Toronto, Hunstville, Trois-Pistoles (QC), and now 4 different neighbourhoods in Ottawa.

What we noticed about our past experiences was the lack of community - although we met a select few street-mates who we really clicked with, these pockets of homes where we spent our days seemed to be missing something. There was no one to call on for a cup of sugar, few people who greeted us every day, and no real sense of safety.

After we had A, we realized that a good community was really important for us. I felt isolated in my little apartment, and being a New Mom with no family around is daunting.

We moved to Orleans over a year ago, based on the fact that some of Tom's family live nearby. We knew this would make things a bit easier on us, as there is always someone to call in a pinch. I have never wanted to live in the suburbs, and always imagined myself renting a great little apartment somewhere close to the city core. I don't like the idea of suburbs, with their mile-upon-mile of cookie cutter homes and lack of small businesses.

But the day we moved into our home, people from all around came over to introduce themselves and help with the heavy lifting. Our cousins and aunt/uncle are part of this group, but even more than great family here, there are good neighbours.

What makes a good neighbour?

Someone who takes the time to stop and talk to you, even when you're all in a rush to get out in the morning

Someone who puts your garbage out when they notice you've forgotten

Someone who leaves fresh produce and baked goods on your fence!

Someone you feel comfortable asking to look after the place while you're on vacation

Someone who will "call in the troops" when you've lost a pet, been broken into, or experienced some other kind of loss

We lost our dog the other day, and she has been returned to us safetly, thanks to some kindly neighbours who found her and turned her in. We not only feel grateful to them, but to all the people who (some not even knowing who we were!) scoured the neighbourhood for the little pug. I was imagining a hit and run, animal cruelty or even someone taking Darcy and deciding not to return her. Man, have I ever become cynical!

It saddens me that many of these "good" neighbours are older - what is it about our generation, which seems to distrust so much? Why do we go out of our way to avoid our neighbours? I see other Moms walking down the street with their children, and I long to stop and talk. But my reasoning for not doing so is that I am just "bothering" them. That somehow they will be annoyed with the fact that I want to have a little chat.

Our generation needs to reach out again. Our neighbourly instincts are being lost in this era of anxiety and fear, and nothing is getting any easier for families this way.

So here's a little challenge to you all - go out and meet one new neighbour this week. Find out more about them - you'll be surprised at the kindness and generosity you will find in others.

Pug has checked out

You've all probably been reading from my Twitter and Facebook accounts (and of course, my frantic calls to family and friends) that our beloved pug Darcy is missing.

Last night was quiet around here - no snuffling and snorting; no sniffling and sneezing; no lapping of water or crunching of bones.

Today is being spent papering the neighbourhood with posters, and calling the City of Ottawa and Ottawa Humane Society in an attempt to locate her. This family isn't a family without our pug!

Tell me about your relationship with your pets (present or past) - have you ever lost a pet?

Thinking differently



Worldwide Maternal Mortality (source: click here)


FACT:

•Women in poor nations are 300 times more likely to die in childbirth or from pregnancy complications than those in the developed world.

UNICEF Chief of Health Dr. Peter Salama on maternal mortality:

"It’s really an unconscionable number of deaths. It’s a human tragedy on a massive scale."

 

I attended a talk yesterday given by a researcher in Thailand, on the topic of maternal and neonatal health in South East Asia.

The graph above was shown in the first slide, and it sent chills all over my body.

We all know that women and babies around the world are dying - in large numbers. But it's not too often brought home in such a graphic way. The developing countries are bloated - the worst of the bunch in blood red. The image I conjure up in my head is heartbreaking.

I spend so much time thinking about healthy birth - promoting doula care, educating my clients on healthy birth practices, and lamenting our medical system - that I often forget that modern medical care saves lives.

I'm not trying to retract my previously stated beliefs/values/viewpoints. And I'm not going to bow down before our healthcare system in an apology - I still feel that we have gone too far forward. We have forgotten what the basic needs of women in childbirth are. We are preventing women from being powerful, instinctual and in control.

And yet a lack of proper medical care also takes away power - in a final, never-go-back kind of way.

This talk reminded me that there are interventions out there that are medically sound, and these are examples of good evidence-based practice; something the majority of women in this world are missing out on.

When I look at that skinny strip of North America, I suddenly feel chastised - into thinking that a rejection of modern care is somehow a powerful personal statement. A stick-it-to-the-man kind of mentality.

This talk has moved me forward into thinking about birth and infant health in a different way. It's not about "us vs. them." It's not about the home vs. hospital birth, or the OB vs. midwifery model of care. It's about powerful women, healthy women, strong women. It's about bringing babies into the world in a kind, gentle and healthy way. And without medical care, and good quality research, none of this will ever be achieved.

A woman is the full circle.

Within her is the power to create, nurture and transform

~ Diane Mariechild ~

Falling for fall

Although we officially have five more days to go, I'm going to jump the gun and call it: Autumn is Here. The nights are cold, the mornings are chilly (and in many parts of this world, frosty!), and the days are clear and bright. As Stuart McLean said today on the Vinyl Cafe, the sky is a different kind of blue now than it is in July and August.

What better way to kick off our first fall weekend than with a visit to the local apple orchard:





The sunflowers welcomed us as though we were royalty





Her Highness was all too willing to oblige





The bees were busy this weekend - they know the end is near





A curious little elf hid amongst the towering flowers...






 But emerged to bite into every apple she could find - whether they be on the ground or in the trees






"How do you like them apples!?"







 A warm dinner of curried carrot soup - thanks to the sweet roots we had growing in our garden this year






 And freshly baked whole wheat bread, with flour from Castor River Farm





To finish off, a salad with garden tomatoes and local purple kale

We've been inspired here at The Tweet by two books (one I have just finished, and the other I have my nose in as much as I can): Life in the Bush, by Roy MacGregor, and Animal-Vegetable Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. Hence the focus on local food today - but more on these exceptional books another time.

To bed I go, and hoping for dreams as vivid as the fall colours.