Those of you fortunate enough to live in Canada, (smile) may be familiar with a CBC radio program called Q. I'm in love with the host, Jian Gomeshi, and I can safely say that since my husband almost never reads my blog. There's something alternately sexy and soothing about his voice. I'm not the only one who thinks so. I've heard movie stars and rock bands gush endlessly about it. I could go on and on, (I love you, Jian. Passionately!) but that's not really what this blog is about.
Last week, he interviewed a guest that was promoting his own book on advertising. I can't remember the name, or the title of the book, but it was about the art of wooing, and perhaps deceiving the customer. From a warm vanilla fragrance in a men's store to Justin Beiber's song choices, it was all about the sizzle of the sell. It got me thinking.
I've been in business since 1989. I've placed a lot of ads from then until now, though my favorite is still the first one, where I posed the question, 'Do you have a rendezvous with destiny, or are you just trying to make it through the day?' I had no focus group, except my five sisters and one brother, so I just went with it. I wanted to reach the parents that were like me, living on the edge, trying to survive a fussy baby and retain a form of sanity at the same time. Some may question my first brochure that boldly proclaimed 'The best baby carrier in the world.' It was my husband's idea, and I freely blame him now that I've seen the show Elf. Will Farrell goes into a coffee shop and says to the immigrant owners, "You've done it! Wow, congratulations! You have the best coffee in the world!" This, after seeing it on the front of the shop.' It never occurred to me that we were setting ourselves up to be mocked by Will Farrell. (though it would be very good advertising.) We figured, why not just tell the truth, as we see it? So we did.
In the early nineties, we sold a combination purse/backpack for busy mothers. The slogan we used was 'ashamed to be seen with the old bag?' Later, this was pointed out to me as being extremely sexist towards women, so we didn't use it anymore. To equal things up, I could have changed it to 'old bugger,' but then it wouldn't have made sense.
My favorite ad ever was made into a poster for the stores that sold our product. Vin Diesel had just worn the babyTrekker in the movie 'The Pacifier.' We got a poster from the movie, added the words "The babyTrekker available here, Vin Diesel not included, and sent them out. The stores and customers loved them. Later, we realized that Disney had actually not given their permission, so we took them down. My apologies to both Vin Diesel and the rich people who own Disney studios. And thanks for using our carrier.
My next favorite ads were made in 2007, which we called 'The Year of the Bond.' One of them is on the homepage at www.babytrekker.com right now. The caption was 'The only girl invited to boy's night out.' It featured a local pharmacist, Cory, and his second baby daughter. There was a number of friends there, and I think it was the Grey Cup football game that they were watching. It was such a fun shoot, and the baby loved the attention. She also loved the game, as you can see from our poster. We did two other ones of another friend, Chad Plamondon, at the laundry mat with his baby Isobel. The caption was 'Does laundry, Loves to Dance.' His wife Cara kept saying, 'and he does!' Our other one was the same guys from the first poster with my friend Jenna's baby held by yet another pharmacist, Dennis Fancy. The guys are playing poker, and the slogan was 'You gotta know when to hold 'em.' Not all the stores put the last one up, figuring it promoted gambling. Not.
Presently, we have no advertising budget. Our carriers are made in Canada, so that explains that, ( since you probably know about the high cost of absolutely everything.) However, I am encouraged by another form of advertising called 'word of mouth.' Because, no matter how much fun we have with our ads, nothing has ever been as successful for us as the enthusiasm, cajoling and outright preaching of our babyTrekker customers. I even had an order from a woman who was about to buy a carrier in Walmart when she was hauled out to the car of a complete stranger so that she could try on the woman's babyTrekker. Now that's what I call commitment. Thank you, dear babyTrekker customers. Many of you have returned so many times and purchased so many carriers for others, that you feel like a friend. So, Judith Vogel of New York, New York, I wasn't kidding, the last time we spoke. I really am going to come for tea some day soon.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Sometimes the hardest thing to do when you're writing a blog or raising a child is to come up with new ideas. As a writer, I find that the well occasionally runs dry. But it has never panicked me as much as it did when raising my babies. Sometimes the littlest things would become so big in my mind.
My first daughter Hilary was disinterested in solid foods. (This was not the first thing I stressed over.) She was nine months old, still nursing, and couldn't care less about trying anything else. I didn't bother her with that cardboard tasting food that they used to call pablum, or with rice cereal. Instead, I made small tasty meals that were baby sized and safe from all possible choking hazards. I tried feeding her in the high chair, in my lap, in my husbands lap and everywhere that a baby almost into toddler hood would consider interesting. But there was nothing I could do. And then one day, at around nine and a half months, she just started to eat. She wanted regular food like my husband and I were eating, but very mashed up. And it was really no big deal, after all. For a couple of days I felt like sending out proclamations to the newspapers, my own personal tidings of great joy. After a few more days, it came to seem like no big deal.
That's the way it is almost all the time, I realized. You sweat about so many things and then they just happen anyway. The lesson for me was to trust nature and my own child's instincts. Our next child, Michelle, didn't get teeth until she was around a year old. She started eating solids around seven months and had no more problems with it than any other baby. She loved to eat and enjoyed a lot of texture, so things couldn't be too mushy for her.
My third daughter Mari is the one that I really need to hang my head in shame over, regarding her introduction to solid foods. It happened shortly before she was six months old. Based on my other children's experiences, I wasn't worrying about introducing solids at all. I was out for dinner with my sisters, and Mari was parked in a high chair at my side. She had really good muscle control and had been sitting up for a while. We'd passed her around the table and everybody had held her, but it was time for us to eat. The toys I gave her weren't making her happy, so I took a piece of garlic bread from the basket and gave it to her to suck on. (My head hangs in shame as I write) It was crazy, because she could have choked, and really, all that butter couldn't have been good for her. But she was really happy, her face all shiny, wearing big gummy smile. We ate in peace. She started eating solids legitimately, just a few weeks later. Would I make that choice again? Absolutely not. And yet, it all seems to have worked out.
Things have a way of doing that, so there's no point making a big deal out of small problems. Because there's lots of parenting stress ahead and its no use making stuff up, unnecessarily. Try to enjoy the ride, and don't look over your shoulder too much at the mistakes you've made. There's more ahead of you, I promise. Happy parenting.
My first daughter Hilary was disinterested in solid foods. (This was not the first thing I stressed over.) She was nine months old, still nursing, and couldn't care less about trying anything else. I didn't bother her with that cardboard tasting food that they used to call pablum, or with rice cereal. Instead, I made small tasty meals that were baby sized and safe from all possible choking hazards. I tried feeding her in the high chair, in my lap, in my husbands lap and everywhere that a baby almost into toddler hood would consider interesting. But there was nothing I could do. And then one day, at around nine and a half months, she just started to eat. She wanted regular food like my husband and I were eating, but very mashed up. And it was really no big deal, after all. For a couple of days I felt like sending out proclamations to the newspapers, my own personal tidings of great joy. After a few more days, it came to seem like no big deal.
That's the way it is almost all the time, I realized. You sweat about so many things and then they just happen anyway. The lesson for me was to trust nature and my own child's instincts. Our next child, Michelle, didn't get teeth until she was around a year old. She started eating solids around seven months and had no more problems with it than any other baby. She loved to eat and enjoyed a lot of texture, so things couldn't be too mushy for her.
My third daughter Mari is the one that I really need to hang my head in shame over, regarding her introduction to solid foods. It happened shortly before she was six months old. Based on my other children's experiences, I wasn't worrying about introducing solids at all. I was out for dinner with my sisters, and Mari was parked in a high chair at my side. She had really good muscle control and had been sitting up for a while. We'd passed her around the table and everybody had held her, but it was time for us to eat. The toys I gave her weren't making her happy, so I took a piece of garlic bread from the basket and gave it to her to suck on. (My head hangs in shame as I write) It was crazy, because she could have choked, and really, all that butter couldn't have been good for her. But she was really happy, her face all shiny, wearing big gummy smile. We ate in peace. She started eating solids legitimately, just a few weeks later. Would I make that choice again? Absolutely not. And yet, it all seems to have worked out.
Things have a way of doing that, so there's no point making a big deal out of small problems. Because there's lots of parenting stress ahead and its no use making stuff up, unnecessarily. Try to enjoy the ride, and don't look over your shoulder too much at the mistakes you've made. There's more ahead of you, I promise. Happy parenting.
Monday, September 19, 2011
That's a Good Thing
One of the trickier parts of being a parent is learning when to hold on, and when to let go. After using the babyTrekker every single day for over a year, the time came when my youngest, one year old Mari,wanted to walk everywhere. She'd point at the ground, or she'd look in my eyes, taking my face in her hands as if to say, listen to me. And at that moment, I really didn't want to.
If you are a parent like me who does everything in a hurry, this stage is a hard one. During the slow strolls down to the park, walking at a snails pace behind her, I felt like this tiny blonde child had become my own personal dictator. Mari absolutely loved being in the babyTrekker. She spent hours a day there while I worked on my business, cleaned the house and went on outings with the family. I'd designed the babyTrekker just for the purpose. And here she was, slowing me down, almost halting me in my tracks. She had a way of looking back at me, a little grin that seemed to tell me I'd be okay. I'd get through this stage just fine. And I did, of course. I learned to live in the moment, (which Oprah later told me is a good thing.) After a few weeks, Mari was happy to go in the babyTrekker again, though she preferred to play independently inside the house, most of the time. And here (again with Oprah!) was my big aha moment.
By listening to my baby, I learned some things along the way. Like the fact that slowing down was actually good for me. And that respecting Mari as an individual who knew what she needed would prepare me for all the changes that would come as our children grew up. It translates well to moments when your pre-teen gives you 'the look.' Parents of teenagers, please smile knowingly.
The first times it happens is a shock because, let's face it. For at least the first eight years of their childhood, mom and dad are the most important people in the world. 'The look' is their way of saying, 'Put me down. I can walk by myself.'
This is especially true for 'mother knows best' types like me. We need to raise children who are independent, for both our sakes. Oprah also used to say, that we should believe what people tell us about themselves. This is especially true of our children. Don't get me wrong. That doesn't mean that you quietly whisper 'alright' when your two year old wants to tour the neighborhood alone and naked (Mari) or that your fifteen year old has your approval on all her decisions. Hearing them is a completely different thing.
Sometimes they may not be proclaiming their independence. Sometimes what they really want is for someone to hold them tight, to let them know that our love is unconditional. When we send them that message, what we're really saying is 'you're good to go.' And if we've listened carefully over the years and they know that they've been heard, then that's what they do.
If you are a parent like me who does everything in a hurry, this stage is a hard one. During the slow strolls down to the park, walking at a snails pace behind her, I felt like this tiny blonde child had become my own personal dictator. Mari absolutely loved being in the babyTrekker. She spent hours a day there while I worked on my business, cleaned the house and went on outings with the family. I'd designed the babyTrekker just for the purpose. And here she was, slowing me down, almost halting me in my tracks. She had a way of looking back at me, a little grin that seemed to tell me I'd be okay. I'd get through this stage just fine. And I did, of course. I learned to live in the moment, (which Oprah later told me is a good thing.) After a few weeks, Mari was happy to go in the babyTrekker again, though she preferred to play independently inside the house, most of the time. And here (again with Oprah!) was my big aha moment.
By listening to my baby, I learned some things along the way. Like the fact that slowing down was actually good for me. And that respecting Mari as an individual who knew what she needed would prepare me for all the changes that would come as our children grew up. It translates well to moments when your pre-teen gives you 'the look.' Parents of teenagers, please smile knowingly.
The first times it happens is a shock because, let's face it. For at least the first eight years of their childhood, mom and dad are the most important people in the world. 'The look' is their way of saying, 'Put me down. I can walk by myself.'
This is especially true for 'mother knows best' types like me. We need to raise children who are independent, for both our sakes. Oprah also used to say, that we should believe what people tell us about themselves. This is especially true of our children. Don't get me wrong. That doesn't mean that you quietly whisper 'alright' when your two year old wants to tour the neighborhood alone and naked (Mari) or that your fifteen year old has your approval on all her decisions. Hearing them is a completely different thing.
Sometimes they may not be proclaiming their independence. Sometimes what they really want is for someone to hold them tight, to let them know that our love is unconditional. When we send them that message, what we're really saying is 'you're good to go.' And if we've listened carefully over the years and they know that they've been heard, then that's what they do.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Holding On For Dear Life
On Sunday, my dad turned eighty-six years old. We held a small family party for him at our house, which is a little trickier than it used to be, because he can't walk. We had dinner in the garden, rolling his chair down the brick path and right up to the table. It was a treat for all of us, because we usually have to visit him at the nursing home where he lives.
It's hard for me to imagine that a time will come when dad won't be here anymore. We're just so comfortable together. We hug and kiss each other goodbye every single day. Even the switch in our roles has been an easy, if poignant, transition. Many of the things that my father used to do for me as a child, I now do for him. I'll brush his hair, or wash his face with a warm cloth. I'll fetch him a sweater, or put his shoes on him. He's okay with it, too. We're in such a smooth routine, it almost allows me to deny the fact that someday, I'll have to let him go. It makes me want to hold onto him for dear life.
But life is all about letting go. From the time our children start to walk, they begin to proclaim their independence. After a few months of tottering around on shaky legs, all they want to do is to explore their world. They alternate between pushing you away and then clinging to you as if the house was on fire. It can make your head spin, this back and forthness of their growing up.
We are all, both young and old, in a constant state of change. It's not a comfortable thought for someone like me who doesn't enjoy transitions. But there is one way to make life stand still for a moment. And that is to just stop right in the middle of whatever you're doing, and look around you. Pay attention to what's happening, and realize that this is your life moving along, small moment by small moment.
Whether you're just growing up or busy raising children, it can feel like it's taking forever. But one day, you look back, and it seems that it only took about five minutes. And if we're lucky, we realize that all the little moments in our lives, like sitting around the supper table on a warm summer night, or helping a tired child get ready for bed, were the ones that were the most important in the end. And then it doesn't matter what you grew up to be, or if your child is a good athlete, or is terrible in math. What counts is that you have a precious chain of many moments, where you were fully aware that they were, and are, the blessings that make up a life.
It's hard for me to imagine that a time will come when dad won't be here anymore. We're just so comfortable together. We hug and kiss each other goodbye every single day. Even the switch in our roles has been an easy, if poignant, transition. Many of the things that my father used to do for me as a child, I now do for him. I'll brush his hair, or wash his face with a warm cloth. I'll fetch him a sweater, or put his shoes on him. He's okay with it, too. We're in such a smooth routine, it almost allows me to deny the fact that someday, I'll have to let him go. It makes me want to hold onto him for dear life.
But life is all about letting go. From the time our children start to walk, they begin to proclaim their independence. After a few months of tottering around on shaky legs, all they want to do is to explore their world. They alternate between pushing you away and then clinging to you as if the house was on fire. It can make your head spin, this back and forthness of their growing up.
We are all, both young and old, in a constant state of change. It's not a comfortable thought for someone like me who doesn't enjoy transitions. But there is one way to make life stand still for a moment. And that is to just stop right in the middle of whatever you're doing, and look around you. Pay attention to what's happening, and realize that this is your life moving along, small moment by small moment.
Whether you're just growing up or busy raising children, it can feel like it's taking forever. But one day, you look back, and it seems that it only took about five minutes. And if we're lucky, we realize that all the little moments in our lives, like sitting around the supper table on a warm summer night, or helping a tired child get ready for bed, were the ones that were the most important in the end. And then it doesn't matter what you grew up to be, or if your child is a good athlete, or is terrible in math. What counts is that you have a precious chain of many moments, where you were fully aware that they were, and are, the blessings that make up a life.
Friday, July 29, 2011
When Nothing is Going the Right Way
It's inevitable. There will come a time when you, the parent, will have a dark aha moment that slaps you right in the face. Secretly, you've known it all along. The truth is that sometimes there is no solution for your parenting problem. 'Dr. Do Right' has given you a multitude of solutions in his book, "How to Be the Perfect Parent Every Time." 'Nanny Knows It All' has demonstrated every stragetic move on her television show, "Loving Parent, Perfect Child."
And yet. Nothing that you've read or seen has helped your: biting toddler, screaming toddler, nursing all night baby/toddler who won't go to bed, train, stay dressed, get dressed... Well. You get the picture. The moment of truth usually dawns when dawn is, in fact, hours away. You lie there in the dark, feeling like a complete failure and wondering why everyone else seems to find parenting so easy.
The real truth is that no one finds it easy. There comes a time in everyone's life when the well of parenting wisdom runs dry. But here's the thing. As you lay curled in a weeping,sodden mess, huddling in the corner of your room and contemplating the disaster of your life, you need to realize something. Sometimes, you just have to wait. Ignore it. Forget about it. Pretend that it will all work out. Because that is the real truth. It will work out. Children grow up. Parents learn to accept the fact that life, like their little ones, is not perfect.
There are so many ways to do things right. Like sleeping together in the family bed. Or having baby in the co sleeper. Or in the (gasp!) crib placed in another room. Toddlers might toilet train at the age of two. Or four. Some kids might have a difficult time right into the school years. But eventually, they grow up.
There is one thing that will ensure long term success in your parenting efforts. Toni Morrison, the writer, nailed it when she asked Oprah's audience, "Does your face light up when your child walks in the room?" Because our faces tell our children the story of who they are every single day. And it should have nothing to do when they started pooping in the potty, or sleeping through the night. It shouldn't have anything to do with their report cards, or how they stack up against the other kids in soccer.
Does your face light up when they walk in the room? Do they see their bright, shiny, starry beloved selves reflected in your eyes? If they do, then here is the good news. You will see your bright and shiny self glowing right back. And you'll know that even when nothing seemed to be moving in the right direction, you were going that way all along.
And yet. Nothing that you've read or seen has helped your: biting toddler, screaming toddler, nursing all night baby/toddler who won't go to bed, train, stay dressed, get dressed... Well. You get the picture. The moment of truth usually dawns when dawn is, in fact, hours away. You lie there in the dark, feeling like a complete failure and wondering why everyone else seems to find parenting so easy.
The real truth is that no one finds it easy. There comes a time in everyone's life when the well of parenting wisdom runs dry. But here's the thing. As you lay curled in a weeping,sodden mess, huddling in the corner of your room and contemplating the disaster of your life, you need to realize something. Sometimes, you just have to wait. Ignore it. Forget about it. Pretend that it will all work out. Because that is the real truth. It will work out. Children grow up. Parents learn to accept the fact that life, like their little ones, is not perfect.
There are so many ways to do things right. Like sleeping together in the family bed. Or having baby in the co sleeper. Or in the (gasp!) crib placed in another room. Toddlers might toilet train at the age of two. Or four. Some kids might have a difficult time right into the school years. But eventually, they grow up.
There is one thing that will ensure long term success in your parenting efforts. Toni Morrison, the writer, nailed it when she asked Oprah's audience, "Does your face light up when your child walks in the room?" Because our faces tell our children the story of who they are every single day. And it should have nothing to do when they started pooping in the potty, or sleeping through the night. It shouldn't have anything to do with their report cards, or how they stack up against the other kids in soccer.
Does your face light up when they walk in the room? Do they see their bright, shiny, starry beloved selves reflected in your eyes? If they do, then here is the good news. You will see your bright and shiny self glowing right back. And you'll know that even when nothing seemed to be moving in the right direction, you were going that way all along.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Avoidance Behavior at its Best
A unique situation that verges on a strange type of illness flares up within me every summer (at least, since I've become an adult.) It started long before I had children, though having babies definitely made the symptoms a little worse. Starting in mid spring I begin to feel overwhelmed by the approach of summer. Most of my friends and neighbors long for this, their favorite season. They can't wait to lie out on the patio, a cool drink in hand, a book or magazine flopped to one side of the chair as they gaze lazily at the sky. This image gives me nightmares, frankly, which tend to start right around the end of May. Why? you may ask with honest astonishment. Because the summer creates in me a fierce need to do absolutely everything. I must have a wonderful garden, an incredible vacation, maximum time with family, freshly painted items and/or fabulous garage sale nick nacks arranged artfully around the yard. If I'm not on high alert, having the best time of my frantic life, then I feel that I'm wasting the precious few months of warm weather.
I have learned some calming techniques, but the best one came along with the babyTrekker. When in doubt about what to do, go for a walk. Don't think about the messy house, the unweeded garden, the new plants languishing in their pots. Strap that baby on and head outside. If its raining, invest in one of those $2.00 plastic ponchos, cut the front low enough for the baby, and head into the rain. Walk briskly and inhale deeply. Wonderful things will start to happen in your brain. Endorphins begin their happy dance and sanity returns, allowing perspective on EVERYTHING. Because there is no agenda, or chaos, or reason to feel anxious on that beautiful/rainy/snowy day. This life is a gift, and nature has tied it up for us in beautiful ribbons of greenery and sunshine, of bees and butterflies. John Lennon said that life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. It also happens when you're busy being stressed out about unimportant things. Easy for a parent to do. So let it go, and don't force yourself to make one more decision. When life feels sour and demanding, head outside and get moving. Mother nature is waiting with open arms and no expectations at all.
I have learned some calming techniques, but the best one came along with the babyTrekker. When in doubt about what to do, go for a walk. Don't think about the messy house, the unweeded garden, the new plants languishing in their pots. Strap that baby on and head outside. If its raining, invest in one of those $2.00 plastic ponchos, cut the front low enough for the baby, and head into the rain. Walk briskly and inhale deeply. Wonderful things will start to happen in your brain. Endorphins begin their happy dance and sanity returns, allowing perspective on EVERYTHING. Because there is no agenda, or chaos, or reason to feel anxious on that beautiful/rainy/snowy day. This life is a gift, and nature has tied it up for us in beautiful ribbons of greenery and sunshine, of bees and butterflies. John Lennon said that life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. It also happens when you're busy being stressed out about unimportant things. Easy for a parent to do. So let it go, and don't force yourself to make one more decision. When life feels sour and demanding, head outside and get moving. Mother nature is waiting with open arms and no expectations at all.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Happy Birthday, Dearest Claire
I can't believe it. On May 14th, it will be a year since you came into my world. Let's forget for a moment about the minor players in this drama, like your mom and dad, and focus on the important characters: Grandpa and me. I should say, Coach and ______ because I have yet to be named. My husband decided to name himself and his children all agree that the moniker fits.
I am content to be Grandma, but no. Apparently, the name will be come to you, just as my mother's nickname, 'Mimi' came to your mom when she was a year old. The name has lasted through sixteen grandchildren and 27 plus years. It was a great fit. Your mama, Hilary, desperately wants "Mee Maw" for me, but then, she has a sly sense of humor. (I apologize to all the Mee Maws out there, but it just doesn't feel right.) I think that I'll wait for my official title. When it comes from you, Claire, I know it will be perfect.
Now that you're turning one, things are going to change a little. Many of your biggest fans will stop saying how wonderful it is that you're still nursing. Some will ask, "when is she going to wean?" Others will just stare disapprovingly. I'm with you, Claire, whatever you decide. Of course, I'm in the race for favorite grandparent, so that is to be expected.
Diaper changes might be a little different, now that you're passing this important milestone. Instead of having your chubby feet kissed and your belly rubbed, you may overhear your parents arguing, "You do it, No you do it." Grandma would fill in happily, just to spend time with you.
You may overhear remarks from rude people about your slightly curly, eighties style mullet. You totally rock that look, Claire. Wear it proudly. Remember that to Grandma and the Coach, you are the most beautiful little girl that ever wobbled on two feet. Don't be discouraged when the minute you accomplish something wonderful, like learning to walk, complete strangers start asking if you're 'trained.' Ignore them. Also ignore the worried looks on your parent's faces when they hear those words. You'll see those expressions every now and again, over things that aren't very important. Parents don't realize it at the time, though. Just grandparents do.
Have a wonderful first birthday, Claire Margaret Faktor. I'm sorry I can't be there with you in Calgary, but I'll see you soon. You'll know me when you see me. I'll be the one with the goofy smile and the outstretched arms.
I am content to be Grandma, but no. Apparently, the name will be come to you, just as my mother's nickname, 'Mimi' came to your mom when she was a year old. The name has lasted through sixteen grandchildren and 27 plus years. It was a great fit. Your mama, Hilary, desperately wants "Mee Maw" for me, but then, she has a sly sense of humor. (I apologize to all the Mee Maws out there, but it just doesn't feel right.) I think that I'll wait for my official title. When it comes from you, Claire, I know it will be perfect.
Now that you're turning one, things are going to change a little. Many of your biggest fans will stop saying how wonderful it is that you're still nursing. Some will ask, "when is she going to wean?" Others will just stare disapprovingly. I'm with you, Claire, whatever you decide. Of course, I'm in the race for favorite grandparent, so that is to be expected.
Diaper changes might be a little different, now that you're passing this important milestone. Instead of having your chubby feet kissed and your belly rubbed, you may overhear your parents arguing, "You do it, No you do it." Grandma would fill in happily, just to spend time with you.
You may overhear remarks from rude people about your slightly curly, eighties style mullet. You totally rock that look, Claire. Wear it proudly. Remember that to Grandma and the Coach, you are the most beautiful little girl that ever wobbled on two feet. Don't be discouraged when the minute you accomplish something wonderful, like learning to walk, complete strangers start asking if you're 'trained.' Ignore them. Also ignore the worried looks on your parent's faces when they hear those words. You'll see those expressions every now and again, over things that aren't very important. Parents don't realize it at the time, though. Just grandparents do.
Have a wonderful first birthday, Claire Margaret Faktor. I'm sorry I can't be there with you in Calgary, but I'll see you soon. You'll know me when you see me. I'll be the one with the goofy smile and the outstretched arms.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Taking Care of the Mother
Nobody works harder than a mother. Nobody. I know that there are fathers out there juggling work and family, trying to put food on the table, while, well, putting food on the table. But in my experience, most of the in depth, intricate dance of managing self, family, partner and work is done by women.
I guess that's why we call our little blue planet Mother Earth. Because nobody works harder than her. And her kids? They're always fighting, making big messes and not cleaning up after themselves. We (her offspring) will not even allow her time to fix herself up. We're too busy buying things and throwing them out to make room for more. Not that there's a lot of room left. The pile of our discards is growing by leaps and bounds...just check the floating island of plastic in the Pacific Ocean. We see ourselves as responsible and well deserving consumers. We forget about the affect of all that accumulation.
Imagine everyone on the planet with their own cell phone. That would be almost seven billion units. Now imagine that they get changed every three years because the plan allows an upgrade. That's the kind of mess that could push a Mother over the edge. And when you add in everything else that we buy...
Maybe its time to take care of the Mother for a change. On Earth day, or any other, make a decision to cut back on frivolous spending. Tidy things up a little by taking a walk and picking up litter. Boycott corporations who treat the Mother badly. Let them know you're doing it.
Our Mother has worked hard enough. Its time for all her kids to grow up. And let's start by showing a little gratitude.
I guess that's why we call our little blue planet Mother Earth. Because nobody works harder than her. And her kids? They're always fighting, making big messes and not cleaning up after themselves. We (her offspring) will not even allow her time to fix herself up. We're too busy buying things and throwing them out to make room for more. Not that there's a lot of room left. The pile of our discards is growing by leaps and bounds...just check the floating island of plastic in the Pacific Ocean. We see ourselves as responsible and well deserving consumers. We forget about the affect of all that accumulation.
Imagine everyone on the planet with their own cell phone. That would be almost seven billion units. Now imagine that they get changed every three years because the plan allows an upgrade. That's the kind of mess that could push a Mother over the edge. And when you add in everything else that we buy...
Maybe its time to take care of the Mother for a change. On Earth day, or any other, make a decision to cut back on frivolous spending. Tidy things up a little by taking a walk and picking up litter. Boycott corporations who treat the Mother badly. Let them know you're doing it.
Our Mother has worked hard enough. Its time for all her kids to grow up. And let's start by showing a little gratitude.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
When Nothing is Going Right
If you're a mom with young children, a bad day often starts with a lousy sleep. Or no sleep at all. Whether the baby is teething or the kids have thrown up all over your bed,the outcome is usually the same. The dominoes start to fall. You can't get anything done. Everyone is cranky. Your throat is sore, the laundry's piling up, and its snowing/raining/storming. You start to question the meaning of your life. How did I end up here? Why did I move here, buy this house, marry this man? (Just kidding, honey.) It's very easy to get down on yourself, on those no good, very bad days.
The solution that I came up with when my children were young still works for me today. (Sadly, women continue to have bad days from time to time, even when their children are grown. I know! It sucks.) The thing is, I have to remind myself that it works. Here it is. Unless the weather is so cold that skin will freeze in under thirty seconds, go outside. Bundle the baby, the kids and yourself up warmly, especially if you're not feeling well. Grab your baby Trekker and/or the sleigh, and go for a brisk walk. Even if its just ten minutes, it will change the direction of your day. It works even better if you can drop in on someone, but that's not always an option.
I don't know why, but there is something about dragging yourself and the kids around in really bad weather that makes your house feel like a haven, instead of a prison. Going out for a car ride is okay, but it doesn't work quite as well. Probably because you just end up shopping and then everyone has even more reason to be tired and cranky. But ten to twenty minutes of cold/wet air blasting your face, well. It just seems to hit the spot.
If today is one of those days, make like Nike, and just do it. Maybe your day will do a 360, and maybe it won't. But I can guarantee that it will be a lot better than it was before. I'd love to hear from you, so let me know how it goes. And no, I'm not talking about the spammers who leave long Chinese messages in the comment section. You deserve a sleepless night. But for the rest of my excellent readers and customers, have a wonderful, not so balmy March outing, and an amazing day.
The solution that I came up with when my children were young still works for me today. (Sadly, women continue to have bad days from time to time, even when their children are grown. I know! It sucks.) The thing is, I have to remind myself that it works. Here it is. Unless the weather is so cold that skin will freeze in under thirty seconds, go outside. Bundle the baby, the kids and yourself up warmly, especially if you're not feeling well. Grab your baby Trekker and/or the sleigh, and go for a brisk walk. Even if its just ten minutes, it will change the direction of your day. It works even better if you can drop in on someone, but that's not always an option.
I don't know why, but there is something about dragging yourself and the kids around in really bad weather that makes your house feel like a haven, instead of a prison. Going out for a car ride is okay, but it doesn't work quite as well. Probably because you just end up shopping and then everyone has even more reason to be tired and cranky. But ten to twenty minutes of cold/wet air blasting your face, well. It just seems to hit the spot.
If today is one of those days, make like Nike, and just do it. Maybe your day will do a 360, and maybe it won't. But I can guarantee that it will be a lot better than it was before. I'd love to hear from you, so let me know how it goes. And no, I'm not talking about the spammers who leave long Chinese messages in the comment section. You deserve a sleepless night. But for the rest of my excellent readers and customers, have a wonderful, not so balmy March outing, and an amazing day.
Friday, February 18, 2011
One More Thing I Know for Sure
One of the things I like best about being in my fifties is that I feel like I finally know who I am. I know my likes and dislikes, my good qualities and my faults. So it came as a surprise to me, just yesterday, when I had to face an uncomfortable truth about myself. For years I've proclaimed to family and friends that I would love to have one more day with my children as the babies they were. I would just sit all day and hold them. I'd rock them, nurse them, and kiss their little necks. I'd play games and make them laugh. It would be wonderful to be back in that time when all they wanted was to be in my arms.
The new revelation came about this way. My daughter has been visiting for a few weeks with her nine month old baby girl. Claire has not been without her mom except for play periods with dad in the early morning. But Claire grew very comfortable with us, and Hilary thought she'd be okay for an hour while she went for a well deserved massage.
She was more than okay, and we had a wonderful time. Her grandpa was still at school, so it was just the two of us. I read her some books, and we played on the floor. As we spent time together, though, I found myself looking at the piles of laundry and the junk that had accumulated in the living room. Through the open bedroom door, I could see my unmade bed and clothing scattered on the floor, making it look like the room belonged to hoarders. (or my teenage self.)
I couldn't stand it a moment longer, so I grabbed a babyTrekker (I have a few around here) and popped Claire on my back. My kids liked facing out, but she likes facing in. It didn't take me long to figure out that she likes a lot of singing and chatting when she's being carried. In about fifteen minutes time I'd tidied the living room, made my bed and put away a bunch of clothes. I was filled with a euphoric sense of well being as I realized that I was recreating my life with my own babies. And then the bubble burst.
I saw that, if I could do it all over again, I wouldn't just sit in the chair and rock. I wouldn't while away the hours just playing with my baby. Because, I realized, I'm just too hyper to sit still that long. Its why I designed the babyTrekker in the first place. I hated that 'stuck' feeling of being in a messy house and feeling tied to the chair. And what I hated even more than a messy house was, and is, a sad baby or toddler. We have a no cry policy in our extended family, which means that we do whatever we can to keep baby happy. It's common knowledge now that infants whose needs are met are less likely to experience depression. I'm glad that science is backing it up, but in truth, I could no more let a baby cry than I could kick a dog.
Time with my granddaughter is precious, especially since she lives so far away. I love to make her laugh. I kiss her neck, and hold her in her favorite standing position while she checks out the goodies on the coffee table. But I'm still the same person, and after awhile, I'll pop her in the carrier and we'll boogie around the house together. That's who I am. See? Now that I'm in my fifties, I have it all figured out.
The new revelation came about this way. My daughter has been visiting for a few weeks with her nine month old baby girl. Claire has not been without her mom except for play periods with dad in the early morning. But Claire grew very comfortable with us, and Hilary thought she'd be okay for an hour while she went for a well deserved massage.
She was more than okay, and we had a wonderful time. Her grandpa was still at school, so it was just the two of us. I read her some books, and we played on the floor. As we spent time together, though, I found myself looking at the piles of laundry and the junk that had accumulated in the living room. Through the open bedroom door, I could see my unmade bed and clothing scattered on the floor, making it look like the room belonged to hoarders. (or my teenage self.)
I couldn't stand it a moment longer, so I grabbed a babyTrekker (I have a few around here) and popped Claire on my back. My kids liked facing out, but she likes facing in. It didn't take me long to figure out that she likes a lot of singing and chatting when she's being carried. In about fifteen minutes time I'd tidied the living room, made my bed and put away a bunch of clothes. I was filled with a euphoric sense of well being as I realized that I was recreating my life with my own babies. And then the bubble burst.
I saw that, if I could do it all over again, I wouldn't just sit in the chair and rock. I wouldn't while away the hours just playing with my baby. Because, I realized, I'm just too hyper to sit still that long. Its why I designed the babyTrekker in the first place. I hated that 'stuck' feeling of being in a messy house and feeling tied to the chair. And what I hated even more than a messy house was, and is, a sad baby or toddler. We have a no cry policy in our extended family, which means that we do whatever we can to keep baby happy. It's common knowledge now that infants whose needs are met are less likely to experience depression. I'm glad that science is backing it up, but in truth, I could no more let a baby cry than I could kick a dog.
Time with my granddaughter is precious, especially since she lives so far away. I love to make her laugh. I kiss her neck, and hold her in her favorite standing position while she checks out the goodies on the coffee table. But I'm still the same person, and after awhile, I'll pop her in the carrier and we'll boogie around the house together. That's who I am. See? Now that I'm in my fifties, I have it all figured out.
Friday, January 14, 2011
What We Do for Love
My mother in law fell and broke her hip a few weeks ago, and she will probably be in the hospital for quite some time. I know that this is not unusual for a senior of eighty-five. But it's very hard to see her lying there, a tiny little scarecrow of a woman, clutching my hand and telling me that she's ready to go. I hold her hand just as tightly, asking her to please try harder. Please stay. I feel like a child who is lost in the woods, when I picture my life without her. When I got married thirty-five years ago, I never realized that she would become so precious to me.
I've heard it said that love takes many forms. Maybe that's why we don't always recognize it for what it is. In the early days of my business, my mother started showing up at my door unexpectedly. She'd pack Trekkers into boxes and then into crates for shipping. She'd clean off the lunch table (the blessings of a home business!) and answer the phone at the same time. She made herself indespensible, and didn't want to be paid for her work. I finally had to bar the door to her until she gave in.
My first trade show with the babyTrekker, aside from local events, was in Dallas, Texas. Two of my sisters came with me, along with my oldest daughter, Hilary. It was a lot of work, and plenty of fun. All of my sisters (five!)and my only brother have helped me in some way with my business, from the sewing in the early days, to figuring out various wearing positions, to manning the booths or modelling the babyTrekker in photos and demo videos. It sounds easy, but it wasn't. It meant time sacrificed and their own plans put on hold, many times over.
One day when I had a particularly large order to deliver, my inlaws, my mom and dad and other family members came over and started packing. It took hours to get that order ready. When I look back, I remember how much fun we had. I also remember the sacrifices that my family made for me. Friends also helped out from time to time. My La Leche League family was a strong source of support, especially the O'Brien family.
Small businesses don't just happen because one person gets an idea. It's like the popular saying, "It takes a village to raise a child." Well, it takes a lovely, supportive community to get a business going as well. The people in my town have been amazing when it came to helping me get started. From the staff at Canada Post, to our local Greenstone agency for small business, to the stores that have promoted our products and the Flin Flonners who strong arm others into trying the carrier. I hear it all the time from customers on the phone. "I met someone from your town and they said that I had to try the babyTrekker. It's the only one that works." I can't tell you how many times I've heard that story.
I've been thinking lately about all the things that we do to help each other out in life. As parents, we do everything that we can to make sure our children get the best start in life. Some of us go a little overboard (yes, Mari, I admit it) but it's only because we care! Action is the outlet for a parent's love, though sometimes staying quiet and allowing your child to figure things out for themselves is the best action of all. The thing is, when we do it right, then the next generation wants to return the favor. Love begets love. Kindness is a garden of good fruit, and the seeds gathered from it move from generation to generation. And finally, the things that we've done for others becomes the love that sees us through to the end.
I've heard it said that love takes many forms. Maybe that's why we don't always recognize it for what it is. In the early days of my business, my mother started showing up at my door unexpectedly. She'd pack Trekkers into boxes and then into crates for shipping. She'd clean off the lunch table (the blessings of a home business!) and answer the phone at the same time. She made herself indespensible, and didn't want to be paid for her work. I finally had to bar the door to her until she gave in.
My first trade show with the babyTrekker, aside from local events, was in Dallas, Texas. Two of my sisters came with me, along with my oldest daughter, Hilary. It was a lot of work, and plenty of fun. All of my sisters (five!)and my only brother have helped me in some way with my business, from the sewing in the early days, to figuring out various wearing positions, to manning the booths or modelling the babyTrekker in photos and demo videos. It sounds easy, but it wasn't. It meant time sacrificed and their own plans put on hold, many times over.
One day when I had a particularly large order to deliver, my inlaws, my mom and dad and other family members came over and started packing. It took hours to get that order ready. When I look back, I remember how much fun we had. I also remember the sacrifices that my family made for me. Friends also helped out from time to time. My La Leche League family was a strong source of support, especially the O'Brien family.
Small businesses don't just happen because one person gets an idea. It's like the popular saying, "It takes a village to raise a child." Well, it takes a lovely, supportive community to get a business going as well. The people in my town have been amazing when it came to helping me get started. From the staff at Canada Post, to our local Greenstone agency for small business, to the stores that have promoted our products and the Flin Flonners who strong arm others into trying the carrier. I hear it all the time from customers on the phone. "I met someone from your town and they said that I had to try the babyTrekker. It's the only one that works." I can't tell you how many times I've heard that story.
I've been thinking lately about all the things that we do to help each other out in life. As parents, we do everything that we can to make sure our children get the best start in life. Some of us go a little overboard (yes, Mari, I admit it) but it's only because we care! Action is the outlet for a parent's love, though sometimes staying quiet and allowing your child to figure things out for themselves is the best action of all. The thing is, when we do it right, then the next generation wants to return the favor. Love begets love. Kindness is a garden of good fruit, and the seeds gathered from it move from generation to generation. And finally, the things that we've done for others becomes the love that sees us through to the end.
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