Sunday, April 30, 2006
Friday, April 28, 2006
anniversaries
There are two anniversaries being remembered today in my family. One is for my mom and dad, married 27 years today, and the other is for my Baba, who passed away from cancer three years ago on this date (my Gido preceded her by just over three weeks on April 6).
It's funny how the days clip by and you never know what anniversary one of those particular days might eventually bring for you. I would love to be able go back every annum to see what I was doing on April 5 of that year - April 5 being the day Boh was born. What was I doing that day? Did the thought ever cross my mind that I would have a son born on that exact date x years from then? Probably not; I always thought I would have fall babies for some reason.
While the anniversary of my mom and dad's marriage is a happy one, it was a very sad day three years ago. As every year passes, though, the sadness goes away a little bit more as newer, happier anniversaries are realized (like April 5). I believe that my son was picked especially for me, and that his birthday anniversary was chosen in an especially thoughtful way by those family members whose last anniversaries have already been decided for them.
Happy anniversary mom and dad. And thanks for Boh, Baba and Gido. I miss you.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
yesterday on Oprah
I suppose I shouldn't be so flippant. While today's Oprah may have ventured into Geraldo territory, with its focus on "Female teachers, secret sex at school," Wednesday's episode was dedicated to giving profile to the situation in Darfur, Sudan. Apparently George Clooney and his father recently toured the region and are now back in the USA on a campaign to bring awareness to the plight of Darfuris. Angelina Jolie also laid down the coin for a one-page spread calling attention to the issue in USA Today.
I am not critical of those who use celebrity to gather media for a good cause. (The big caveat being Lindsay Lohan's recent announcement that she is going to Africa to "see what America is doing for AIDS in Africa." If she comes back with anything less than the conclusion that what America is doing for AIDS in Africa is putting it there, and making it stay there, then La Lohan probably should just stay at home trying on Prada.) Such obvious examples aside, the more the various world crises are in the mainstream media, the better. If nothing else, it might cause one reporter to ask our Prime Minister, "What is Canada doing for Darfur? (Or situation X, Y and Z)," and it might actually make the PM think about it.
Where I do think there's a problem, however, is when the message being sent by those like Clooney et al. is reduced to a tag line just small enough to fit on the ticker at the bottom of the CNN screen. ("Tick. Tick. Tick. "Seattle gets three inches of rain today." Tick. Tick. Tick. "Britney Spears' baby falls out of high chair. Authorities investigate." Tick. Tick. Tick. "Darfur a genocide: Clooney." Tick. Tick. Tick.") If there is anything I learned during my eight plus months working on Darfur, it's that the situation is more nuanced than a one-liner, and that eight months of trying to understand the root of the problem will only leave you more uncertain of how the international community can solve the mess that is apparently "the first genocide of the 21st century" than before.
Take the role of the African Union for example. What should be the role of the African Union in solving Darfur? What should be the role of the rest of the world in supporting that organization? There are those that say: "Let the African Union do its job. African solutions to African problems." To which there are those that respond: "What are you, glib? If there's only so much that African nations can do for themselves -and, let's face it, there is only so much that African nations can do for themselves - then it is the responsibility of the Western world to intervene. American paternalism be damned." Surely there must be some kind of balance, you might think. But is there really time to refine that balance when statistics say anwhere between 180,000 and 400,000 people have been killed by the conflict (and we're still counting)?
These are the questions that are thoughtfully considered everyday by the very competent and compassionate people who struggle to find some measure of success for Darfur. There are many reasons why we're failing, but it's not necessarily for lack of concern by citizens of the world and their governments, in my estimation; rather, it's that the solutions are not that simple ("just send in the troops and pour in more money"), and that the questions do not have easy answers (unless one considers overthrowing the Sudanese government. Now there's an idea to consider!).
(Oh, and if you think I'm going to let Oprah get off that easy for one good show, I'm not. Friday's episode? "Does my butt look big?" The show every woman who's recently given birth is dying to see.)
I am not critical of those who use celebrity to gather media for a good cause. (The big caveat being Lindsay Lohan's recent announcement that she is going to Africa to "see what America is doing for AIDS in Africa." If she comes back with anything less than the conclusion that what America is doing for AIDS in Africa is putting it there, and making it stay there, then La Lohan probably should just stay at home trying on Prada.) Such obvious examples aside, the more the various world crises are in the mainstream media, the better. If nothing else, it might cause one reporter to ask our Prime Minister, "What is Canada doing for Darfur? (Or situation X, Y and Z)," and it might actually make the PM think about it.
Where I do think there's a problem, however, is when the message being sent by those like Clooney et al. is reduced to a tag line just small enough to fit on the ticker at the bottom of the CNN screen. ("Tick. Tick. Tick. "Seattle gets three inches of rain today." Tick. Tick. Tick. "Britney Spears' baby falls out of high chair. Authorities investigate." Tick. Tick. Tick. "Darfur a genocide: Clooney." Tick. Tick. Tick.") If there is anything I learned during my eight plus months working on Darfur, it's that the situation is more nuanced than a one-liner, and that eight months of trying to understand the root of the problem will only leave you more uncertain of how the international community can solve the mess that is apparently "the first genocide of the 21st century" than before.
Take the role of the African Union for example. What should be the role of the African Union in solving Darfur? What should be the role of the rest of the world in supporting that organization? There are those that say: "Let the African Union do its job. African solutions to African problems." To which there are those that respond: "What are you, glib? If there's only so much that African nations can do for themselves -and, let's face it, there is only so much that African nations can do for themselves - then it is the responsibility of the Western world to intervene. American paternalism be damned." Surely there must be some kind of balance, you might think. But is there really time to refine that balance when statistics say anwhere between 180,000 and 400,000 people have been killed by the conflict (and we're still counting)?
These are the questions that are thoughtfully considered everyday by the very competent and compassionate people who struggle to find some measure of success for Darfur. There are many reasons why we're failing, but it's not necessarily for lack of concern by citizens of the world and their governments, in my estimation; rather, it's that the solutions are not that simple ("just send in the troops and pour in more money"), and that the questions do not have easy answers (unless one considers overthrowing the Sudanese government. Now there's an idea to consider!).
(Oh, and if you think I'm going to let Oprah get off that easy for one good show, I'm not. Friday's episode? "Does my butt look big?" The show every woman who's recently given birth is dying to see.)
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
day one of blogging, and already I have writer's block
"Okay," I says, turning to Justin. "What should I write about tomorrow?"
Only one day into this thing and already I've run out of topics.
And then: inspiration. If this site is called "today on Oprah", then maybe I could write about what's going to be on Oprah! And then I checked Oprah's website. Topic tomorrow? "Female teachers, secret sex at school."
Uh...okay...I think I'll pass.
Only one day into this thing and already I've run out of topics.
And then: inspiration. If this site is called "today on Oprah", then maybe I could write about what's going to be on Oprah! And then I checked Oprah's website. Topic tomorrow? "Female teachers, secret sex at school."
Uh...okay...I think I'll pass.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
please Oprah, don't hate me
For months Justin has been harassing me to start a blog. I wanted none of it. A couple close friends keep cyberspace surfers and a few other dedicated readers up-to-date on the events of their lives via the medium, which is how I came to learn what a blog actually was. I enjoy reading these on-line diaries, but it didn't (doesn't) seem like something that would be (is) for me, since a) I am not a techie, and the computer skill required to maintain a decent site made (makes) me hesitant, and b) I no write good. Most of all, though, I poo pooed the idea because I thought I had no time, and being a dedicated reader of my friends' blogs, I know a good blog needs a dedicated writer.
Fast forward five months and one baby, and the excuses not to do a blog don't seem as compelling anymore.
Maternity leave has made me addicted to my friends' blogs more so than before. My days are no longer spent surfing the net at work mostly for the latest UN reports on the various crises in Africa. I can now access whatever subject my little heart desires without fear that I will be sternly warned that my workplace does not approve of the particular site I am seeking, and that if I persist in my on-line search, I may be canned.
Keeping people up-to-date on the latest poop and pee of my sweet angel has also made me reconsider the blog. After pressing the send button on the latest email to all twenty-six of my closest friends - even the ones I haven't seen for more than three years - with the most recent pictures of my little darling it festers at the back of my mind: "Does this person really want to be on the receiving end of a new mom's brag that her kid is the cutest baby ever? Am I going to start making people sick? Am I going to become one of those moms?" (The answers to these questions: No, I am not delusional. My kid is the cutest baby ever. And, every day, I get less and less concerned if I make people sick. That's their problem, not mine. And finally, yes, I am going to be one of those moms, whether I like it or not, so I might as well not fight it.) The blog solves all these problems, because if people don't want the late breaking news on the poop and pee status of my sweet angel, they can download an iTune instead. Problem solved.
My single biggest reason for jumping on the blog bandwagon, however, is that it's no longer true that I don't have the available time anymore (although as any new mom will know, that truism is a paradox that shall be the subject of another blog at another time). Babies eat when they want to eat, poop when they want to poop (a lot of poop references, hey?...I just noticed how much an 8 pound 6 ounce baby's bowel movements weigh on my mind), and sleep when they want to sleep. My baby, though, loves to commence his nap at 4:00 pm EST sharp. Since there's not much I can do when this happens (any time I venture too far away from him to do laundry, to have a shower or to put away clean dishes, the bomb explodes, and baby wakes up really pissed), I am invariably forced to check out the day's story line on Oprah. Which means I must also pay my dues to Dr. Phil. Which means that soon it is two to three hours later and I have a really sore butt from sitting on the couch all afternoon with nothing to show for it.
Don't get me wrong - I love Oprah. And Dr. Phil. I would accept a free flight to appear on either of their shows if they ever contacted me to discuss my life (i.e. the latest poop and pee of my sweet angel). But I also need something else to do with my time. And so here we are.
Fast forward five months and one baby, and the excuses not to do a blog don't seem as compelling anymore.
Maternity leave has made me addicted to my friends' blogs more so than before. My days are no longer spent surfing the net at work mostly for the latest UN reports on the various crises in Africa. I can now access whatever subject my little heart desires without fear that I will be sternly warned that my workplace does not approve of the particular site I am seeking, and that if I persist in my on-line search, I may be canned.
Keeping people up-to-date on the latest poop and pee of my sweet angel has also made me reconsider the blog. After pressing the send button on the latest email to all twenty-six of my closest friends - even the ones I haven't seen for more than three years - with the most recent pictures of my little darling it festers at the back of my mind: "Does this person really want to be on the receiving end of a new mom's brag that her kid is the cutest baby ever? Am I going to start making people sick? Am I going to become one of those moms?" (The answers to these questions: No, I am not delusional. My kid is the cutest baby ever. And, every day, I get less and less concerned if I make people sick. That's their problem, not mine. And finally, yes, I am going to be one of those moms, whether I like it or not, so I might as well not fight it.) The blog solves all these problems, because if people don't want the late breaking news on the poop and pee status of my sweet angel, they can download an iTune instead. Problem solved.
My single biggest reason for jumping on the blog bandwagon, however, is that it's no longer true that I don't have the available time anymore (although as any new mom will know, that truism is a paradox that shall be the subject of another blog at another time). Babies eat when they want to eat, poop when they want to poop (a lot of poop references, hey?...I just noticed how much an 8 pound 6 ounce baby's bowel movements weigh on my mind), and sleep when they want to sleep. My baby, though, loves to commence his nap at 4:00 pm EST sharp. Since there's not much I can do when this happens (any time I venture too far away from him to do laundry, to have a shower or to put away clean dishes, the bomb explodes, and baby wakes up really pissed), I am invariably forced to check out the day's story line on Oprah. Which means I must also pay my dues to Dr. Phil. Which means that soon it is two to three hours later and I have a really sore butt from sitting on the couch all afternoon with nothing to show for it.
Don't get me wrong - I love Oprah. And Dr. Phil. I would accept a free flight to appear on either of their shows if they ever contacted me to discuss my life (i.e. the latest poop and pee of my sweet angel). But I also need something else to do with my time. And so here we are.
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