Smoking Around Children

WARNING: If you are a smoker, especially if you are a smoker with young children, then DO NOT read this!!! You WILL be offended - so stop right now and go read something else!!!

Okay, so here goes... why doesn't the Children's Aid take away children who live in smoke-filled homes? Ontario recently passed legislation that makes it illegal to smoke in a vehicle carrying anyone under 16. (Some people treat this as a joke, because the 15-year-old smoker can smoke in mom's car, but mom can't). Well, children may spend an hour or two in the car but they spend 18 hours in the home. Why isn't illegal to smoke in a home with children under 16 living there?

I honestly think it should be. There is enough information out there on the dangers of second-hand smoke that no one should be ignorant of what they are doing. If a parent refuses (or is unable) to provide the necessities of life - then society steps in and either supports the parent to properly care for their child, or takes the child away.

This issue may be one of the biggest "elephants in the room" that we don't talk about. But it's the children that suffer for it. Smoking outside is not that big a deal. Smoking inside - day after day, year after year - is killing your children. You wouldn't sprinkle arsenic on their cereal every morning, would you? But you don't mind sprinkling their lungs with it? Every day? While they're sleeping?

I used to smoke. I smoked in the car - with the window down - with my kids in it. I even smoked in my house - not all the time, just occasionally. (Do you see the justifications?) I say this because I understand first-hand that smoking seems to cause a subtle change in the brain that makes it easier to justify these actions. But, having come to the other side - having successfully quit this insidious drug - I have woken up to the truth. Smoking is harmful. Second-hand smoke is worse.

So let's stop pretending that we don't see this elephant. Tell your friends and family that you won't ignore it any more. Bring them booklets. Send them links. Call them up when anti-smoking commercials come on TV and tell them to watch. Harp at them until, maybe, just maybe, they finally get the message. And maybe call your local CAS if nothing else seems to work.

I am definitely sailing too close to the wind with this one - but our children are worth it.

Saying Stuff that is Not Nice

We all want to be polite. Kind. Thoughtful.

No one except the mean kids at school actually want to hurt someone else's feelings.

But we do it. For many reasons, we do it. I'm about to do it. Here goes...

Poor Barb. This amazing, fearless, and adventurous woman got "voluntold" to come to our pottery session at the last minute. And of course, she was the one the teacher singled out. Every comment or question Barb asked, no matter how innocent, was met and countered by R. (the teacher and proprietor of the pottery studio), until it got to the point where Barb clasped her hand over her mouth for fear of speaking aloud. During one "messy" part, when R. was explaining how the slip (watery clay with lumps) acted as a glue to hold two pieces of already-worked clay together - Barb made the comment that she doesn't use glue, she uses a glue tape. To which R. immediately replied, "I'm sure you do." It was all in the tone. Poor Barb.

So, I'm a member of the B.C.C.G.. The Brantford Christian Creative Guild. And our small group has been meeting each week, all summer long, to listen to teaching CD's on creative writing, on how to get published, on market trends, etc. This outing to the pottery studio was our first experience with something other than the written word, and we thought we were fortunate to be able to find a pottery studio so close to home. To be able to explore our creativity in

3-dimensional art. For 40 bucks, we could make a clay something-or-other, have it glazed and fired, and even get some pizza and pop thrown in.

My husband and I were really looking forward to this night and so we got there early. (Here's where the saying stuff that is not nice comes in). The first thing I noticed when I walked in the door was the smell of cat pee. Not too overpowering, just there; mixed in with other smells both familiar and exotic. Clay has an earthy smell. The paints and glazes have a chemical smell. The cats smell like, well, cats; and the birds smell like birds; and mixed in through all of this was the smell of pizza from the next door pizza place.

I wasn't sure what to make of this studio / store. Usually you get a "vibe" when you first walk into a shop. This place was eclectic. Bits of new-age mixed with old world classics. Sun shrines and frog pipes mixed with simple, practical flower pots and urns. The proprietor, R., seemed to be trying way too hard to "spiritualize" the clay. She knew we were Christians, so she even added how "Adam" means "red earth (red clay)". And she told us we were all there for a reason and that we would learn what that reason was before the night was over. (Apparently, my reason for being there was to have something to write about.)

On the positive side,... wait, I'm not actually done with the negatives yet. I haven't mentioned how, despite a 6 o'clock start time, we didn't actually get started until 8. (R. likes to talk. A lot.) I also didn't mention how we were treated like 8 year-olds. "All eyes on me." "Wait for it. Wait for it." I really don't think we needed quite that level of instruction. I already mentioned the smell of cat pee, but I didn't mention the cute little kitten that was obviously not litter trained or the birds that flew freely all around the room, dropping their poop everywhere. (One of our members noticed a rain drum on a shelf and pulled it down to look at it. She got an eyeful of green and yellow bird crap. Another member had her new purse "christened" by the same substance- although possibly from a different bird!

Okay, let's try the positives again. I actually kind of liked the presence of so many animals. There were 5 or 6 cats, 4 or 5 birds, and 2 dogs. The heart in caring for so many animals created a good atmosphere. (It's just too bad we don't live in a warmer climate, where we would have the option of working outside with the animals present there, if we chose to.) The second positive was R. herself. Despite having some obvious control issues, it was also obvious that she loves what she does. That level of passion and creativity are always welcome in my world.

As for the "thing" I made... I don't know yet whether it goes in the negative or the positive column. I have to wait at least 2 weeks to get it back, and then I'll let you know.

I know that by saying stuff that is not nice, I may be sailing too close to the wind, but I guess I'm willing to take that risk. Talk to you all soon.

Flatulence & Other Social Faux Pas

My darling husband, bless him, is gifted with the ability to restrain his farts. Yes, yes, he can "hold them" in. I'm actually kind of jealous. When I have to "toot", I can rarely hold back. Here's an embarrassing story for you. I went with my friend to the gym, for a free session with her trainer (a lovely young lady who looks like she's never had to diet in her life!), and we were down on the floor, in a very strange position, and suddenly, I farted! Yes, farted. Quite loudly, and quite prolonged. What do you do in these situations? I could only laugh, whilst cringing on the inside.

Burping seems to be much more socially acceptable. Maybe because, if you keep your mouth closed, it is so quiet. And generally, not stinky.

I don't know about the younger generation, but I was taught that polite behaviour was to ignore other people's bodily functions. Pretend you can't hear, see, or smell. Among friends, of course, this rule never applies, and one should always make the most of any opportunity to tease the offending party.

You know, I read somewhere that all of our natural bodily functions were meant to be pleasurable. I wasn't sure if I agreed with that or not, until one morning I really paid attention to just how good it feels to finally void my bladder after keeping it uncomfortably full all night. Be honest, folks! How many of you sigh in relief (and pleasure) when you finally get to "go"? Full stomachs feel better that empty ones. Releasing gas feels better than holding it in. Maybe that's why little kids are so happy about their poops. We say it's just gas when a newborn smiles; but maybe it's a real smile, of real pleasure, because the babe has released the gas? Just a thought.

Anyway, there is no real point to this blog. I just wanted to talk about farting.

(I hope my friends keep inviting me over.)

(I hope I still have friends, after this.)

Oh, well, that's what sailing too close to the wind is all about.

Why Ignore the Elephant?

We've all heard the expression, "There's an elephant in the room". We all know it means that we're ignoring the uncomfortable, unpalatable, obvious problem. But why do we do it?

One answer is politeness. We (as a group) all know that Suzy is an insufferable bore, who drones on and on about nothing of interest, but no one ever mentions it to Suzy. We don't want to hurt her feelings.

How about fear? We don't know what the outcome would be if we talked about the elephant, so we clam up. A good (hypothetical) example of this is the couple we're friends with, and the husband beats his wife, and we never say anything, even though we know they both need help.

I'm sure there are other reasons to keep quiet about the elephant, but as for me, I am neither polite nor fearful, and so these postings will expose the elephants in our midst. As they say down East, "I'll be sailing too close to the wind". I hope you join me for the ride.