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The Holocaust basically just happened. Our kids should know that.

talking to kids

Israel is observing Holocaust Remembrance Day today and stories and essays about The Holocaust have been trickling down my various news feeds.

What do my kids know about The Holocaust, I wondered. I don’t know exactly, but not very much. My eight-year-old probably has some sort of foggy idea, but my five-year-old almost certainly doesn’t. Have I ever talked to them about it? Maybe, but then again, maybe not.

If we were Jewish they would know. They would. And that’s ridiculous. You shouldn’t have to be a Jew to remember and talk about how not very long ago at all, the leader of one of the wealthiest and most powerful countries in the world corralled Jewish people like cattle and led them into concentration camps where they suffered and, for the most part, ultimately died.

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5 totally subjective tips for setting up a nursery

Big love to Sears Canada in my final Sears Mom post inspired by the Newborn Nesting event that’s on right now. (Buy what you need anyway and get free money. Score!)

5 tips on setting up your nursery

My first-born baby is turning eight years old this week. Eight! That’s a whole two-term presidency. That’s high school twice over. That’s one drawn out university undergrad *cough*. It’s a big number, is what I’m saying, considering I can picture his newborn sleepers and the little striped baby hats like they’re right here in front of me. (Don’t ask me what he wore yesterday, though.)

At the same time, my third and last-born baby is now two-and-a-half, pretty much toilet trained and beyond ready to bust out of her crib. I’m getting ready to break down the last of the baby gear and nursery supplies and give a weepy kiss good-bye to an era. Of course I’m nostalgic! And I keep looking back on what I did the first, second and third time and stupid thoughts like, “If I ever have another,” or, “Next time I’d …” keep popping into my head.

I do hate to waste hard-earned knowledge. But let me save myself some time, money and heartache and just share what I’ve learned about babies with you instead. So much easier!

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Am I the only one losing it here?

Disaster zone

Do you like what I’ve done with the place? Why yes that is a Santa figurine on the far left. It’s only the end of April, after all.

Holy dark week on the blog, Batman.

Is it crazy that my life is so finely calibrated that any extra thing is enough to derail an entire month? I’ll be paying for this past week, for example, until well into June.

We’ll start with an incredibly fun Jack and Jill shower I helped throw for my sister-in-law last Thursday. I was happy to do it. It was a great night. It wasn’t even that much work in the grand scheme of things. But there was a couple hours of running around and buying supplies, an afternoon of food prep, the actual party itself and then the recovery the next morning. (It went late, I needed aspirin.)

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Hey, Rebecca! Can we talk about bullshit Internet baby advice?

Hey Rebecca,

A fellow mom in my mom’s group was horribly sleep-deprived, sobbing and feeling emotionally bombarded by all the bullshit on the internet that tells her she is to blame for the night-nursing her ten-month-old baby is doing. Can we talk truthfully about what it’s like to breastfeed a nearly-one-year old?

Signed,

Sick of the web

sleeping baby

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How to stop sounding like a douchebag parent in 5 easy steps

Your child is a wonderful creature filled with intellectual curiosity and boundless joy. She is a fucking delight. No, I’m serious. I bet she is. And you deserve some credit. You are a committed and fully engaged parent who takes great pains to make sure you do things the right way. Your entire family is good, decent, moral and you are champions of the environment. You should be proud.

But can you be proud in a less douchebaggy kind of way? Lemme help you with that.

1. Remember that it’s just lunch and nobody cares.

Chicken sandwich

The answer to what did you guys have for lunch today is not, “Slices of locally-sourced, free-range, organic chicken breasts slow-roasted in my backyard fire pit and then served atop homemade spelt loaf with my own special garlic aioli, and organic watercress and heirloom tomatoes from the farmers market.” The answer is, “A chicken sandwich.”

2. We already know that your kid’s better than ours, so lay off the bragging.

piano

For example, don’t say, “Atticus has made us all so proud by placing first in the regional badminton tournament while practicing for his piano recital at the Royal Conservatory and being honoured with an award for most generous student at school. I honestly don’t how he manages to do it all while volunteering at the retirement home. We are so blessed to have such a talented and big-hearted boy in our lives.” Don’t say that and then plaster pictures of your superstar all over Instagram and Facebook so we can’t even mess around online without feeling inadequate. Try a “Way to go, buddy!” instead.

3. There’s something in the Bible about not posting all your good deeds to the Internet. I’m pretty sure there is.

How to stop sounding like a douchebag parent in five easy steps

It truly is wonderful that you’ve donated your kids’ clothing to refugee, single mothers with amputee kids. That you do that on top of making all your own furniture out of driftwood you find while volunteering to clean up the local beach, spearheading the fundraising committee at your kids’ alternative school and running a marathon for ovarian cancer research is actually breathtaking. You should win an award. If we give you an award, will you stop talking about it?

4. You don’t get to dictate what kind of gifts your kid gets, so maybe stop trying.

birdhouse

By all means, dress your kids in head-to-toe organic cotton or nothing but vintage thrift store finds from the 70s, depending on where you fall on the Gwyneth Paltrow-Alicia Silverstone scale. Deck their nursery out in muted earth tones and take a vigilant stand against plastic. But don’t expect the whole world to give a crap. Your kid’s going to come home with half the dollar store in a loot bag one day no matter what you do. Might as well be gracious.

5. Pinterest already takes care of our self-loathing quota on the craft front. So you can give it a rest on Facebook, okay?

mason jar craft

I honestly think it’s great that you spend hours a day making stuff out of mason jars, burlap and birch bark with your kids. They will probably cherish those memories forever. I don’t actually know because my mom was too busy working double shifts to do crap like that with us but one time I made a caterpillar out of half an egg carton and some crayons. That was good.

 

The first four images were taken from goop.com because it was too easy.
Number five (because I’m pretty sure Gwynnie doesn’t craft) is courtesy of this talented photographer on Flickr.

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Peaches Geldof, motherhood and how we still don’t get it

Peaches Geldof

I spent the morning reading about Peaches Geldoff. Strangely, I’m having a hard time processing this one. She’s a pseudo-celebrity made famous by birthright. I really didn’t know much about her apart from the occasional tabloid headline. This doesn’t feel like a deep personal loss for me and yet I can’t shake this sense of profound sadness.

It’s always sad when someone so young and full of potential dies, of course. But her two babies are the real gut wrenchers. It’s the stuff of nightmares, after all, leaving your children motherless. Since becoming a parent nearly eight years ago, I can barely stomach the news some days. It’s physically painful to hear about a baby falling out of a window, a child being run over or a young mother losing her life.  Of course parents don’t have a monopoly on grief and you don’t have to be a parent to feel the weight of those kinds of loss. But for me, personally, these kinds of stories became much more difficult to bear when I became a mother. There’s an intense visceral response that takes my breath away.

So I thought that was probably it. A young mother with two sons under two-years-of age loses her life and it’s just the normal punch in the gut from fate and justice that I was feeling.

Then I read this New York magazine story.

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Win advanced screening tickets to Disneynature’s Bears

Bears is the latest feature-length film put out by Disneynature. Set in Alaska, it’s the story of two mother brown bears and their cubs. I’m pretty sure this is as close to a bear as I’m ever likely to get and know my kids will love it. We’re really looking forward to it.

Bears opens in theatres on Earth Day, April 18.

But you can win a family pass (4 tickets) and join me at the advanced screening this Saturday, April 12 at 10am at SilverCity Yorkdale in Toronto. Contest closes Wed. April 10, at 11:59pm.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Snooki’s pregnant again! … and nobody cares

snooki

For Snooki, the only thing worse than the hail storm of ridicule and condemnation that rained down on her when news of her pregnancy broke in 2012 must be indifference. So guess what? She just confirmed her second pregnancy to Us Weekly and all we have for her is a collective shrug. The worst thing I could find written about it just trotted out some tired old orange Ewok jokes. YAWN.

This is because second babies don’t get any respect. After the world is done gawking at our transformation from young sex symbol to mother and after we’ve been showered with enough hooded towels and butt cream to last a decade, nobody cares. Of course you’re going to have another baby now. That’s what you do. If you want people to care, try deciding to not have another baby. Suddenly everybody and their delivery guy will have an opinion on the state of your womb. But if you actually go ahead and have a second baby half the people you know will  barely even notice. True story.

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We’ve got measles. Now what?

sick baby

We’ve got measles. The collective we, I mean. Nobody in my actual family has contracted the disease, thank goodness. But the latest in a string of localized outbreaks across the country is in the Toronto suburb of Mississauga, and that’s close enough to get my attention.

The measles vaccine became available in 1963 and by 1998 Canada had officially eliminated measles. 400,000 children in Canada alone used to get measles every year and 75 of those would die from it. It’s a highly contagious virus that begins with flu-like symptoms and develops into a rash and dangerously high fever. Complications arising from measles can include an ear infection, bronchitis, laryngitis, croup, pneumonia, encephalitis, pregnancy loss or low platelet count. There is no treatment for an established case of the measles. We can only prevent it through vaccinations.

So you know where there is going.

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You won’t believe the latest parenting fad, ghetto-rearing

Ghetto-rearing, the latest parenting fad

The latest parenting trend doesn’t borrow from the French or from the past. Its inspiration is the poor. That’s right. Rich and a-little-bit-less-rich (ie. “middle class”) parents are starting to take a good look at their own spoiled-rotten little brats and then compare them to the self-sufficient and less demanding kids of poor people.

“It’s not really fair,” one North Toronto mom said. “The amount of time I spend trying to teach my kids that money doesn’t just grow on trees and instill in them some sense of gratefulness, you know? I mean, kids whose parents really can’t afford a Sky Zone birthday party don’t even have this problem.”

The solution is something called Ghetto-rearing. Parents try to mimic the lifestyles of the very poor and marginally poor in a last-ditch effort to teach their kids to stop being so fucking spoiled. This includes things like taking public transportation. Die-hard adherents might even go so far as to leave one car at the cottage all winter long. Desperate parents of kids who have never heard the word “no,” are even setting aside nutritional, environmental and ethical concerns, and stocking up on highly processed foods like boxed and microwavable meals. The food itself might not be good for them, but the fact that they can learn to get their own damn dinner most definitely is.