Seriously? Seriously? She used the r-word????!!!

Ann Coulter called Mr. Barrack Obama a retard. Yes, she used the r-word. One of the most offensive, disgusting, hate promoting words in the English language. And I for one HATE her for it. I have never met the woman but someone who lacks the sensitivity to know that that word is NEVER to be used, absolutely NEVER to be used to insult ANYONE is APPALLING!

I wonder who raised her? Where are her parents? Even now as an adult if I was her mother I would personally go to her house and make her apologize not only to the President but to all children and adults with Special Needs and those without who were bullied with that word. AND I would wash her mouth out with soap while making a video of it and posting it on YouTube. PLUS make her walk around with a big sign that says "I am an insensitive bitch".

 I occasionally volunteer for the Special Olympics. I am trying to find the genetic causes of Intellectual Disabilities (ID) in order to provide support for these individuals and their families. I assess children with ID on a daily basis to recommend support to make their lives better in school and the community. I have been working with the Special Needs population for 20 years and every single one of these people deserves my respect, admiration, praise, approval and wonder. This woman needs to spend a few minutes with me to, as John Franklin Stephens puts it in his letter "See if you can walk away with your heart unchanged"  Mind you, I am so ANGRY that I would just yell at her.

I am in the process of raising two boys and I have made it very clear to them that THIS word (as well as some others) are NEVER to be used, NEVER EVER. This word carries hatred and MAY NOT under ANY circumstance be used as verbal weapon. I also stick to my guns when it comes to other people using this word. I'll have you know that I once pulled my car over, stopped driving and gave a very stern lecture to a friend of my 14 year old who dared use the r-word in my presence. Petey (not his real name) then apologized profusely and his mother later called me to THANK me for making sure this never happens again.

I URGE you to read John Franklin Stephens response to Ann Coulter (I have attached the link below). He is a young man with Down syndrome who has decided to educate this Coulter neanderthal with his letter and is ROCKING his extra 21 with eloquence and poise. BRAVO JOHN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/timothy-p-shriver/an-open-letter-to-ann-coulter_b_2012454.html

Maternal duties

A few weeks ago I posted on Facebook that one of my many maternal duties is to eat the ends of bread loaves. Nobody likes the crusty ends but mothers tend to be less selective. When we eat them we rationalize the experience with the well known "we-should-not-waste-any-food" mantra. We also think "I have to set an example for the children" or "If I eat them eventually they will realize these are not so bad and eat them themselves" Of course that NEVER happens. So the end result is a gaggle of chubby mothers who think they are pretty smart because they have conspired against children by eating their leftovers.

Since then I've been thinking, what else? What else is a purely maternal duty? Here is my list:

1) Give birth - but you already knew that.

2) Make sure the resident XYs have wearable underwear and socks

3) Purchase the household shampoo and conditioner

4) Buy stuff and  pack school lunches

5) Keep track of the toilet paper

6) Supervise the lights and darks sorting task of laundry (lest this mishap end in pink underwear)

7) Find STUFF! All stuff, general, every day, easy to find, STUFF! JUST STUFF!

8) Buy the corner thingies that keep sheets in place

9) Bring wine and cheese for all other mothers who frequent the school's lost and found bin. We have become very close.

10) Go around the house carrying loads of environmental guilt and turning off unused lights and electronics in order to preserve some kind of liveable planet for our children's children.

11) Crawl through car trunks - ok maybe that one is just me.

Go ahead, feel free to contribute your own. I am sure I have missed a few.

Thanksgiving mindful running.

Today I ran the yearly Granville Island tradition - the Turkey Trot. A race that I really like not only because it is mostly a flat route but also because the 10 kms follow the False Creek Sea Wall, one of the most gorgeous sights there are to behold. If you have not been to Vancouver, COME! walk it and find out for yourself.

Another good thing about the Turkey Trot is that it has THE best food at the end of the race. Today we were regaled with banana walnut loaf, bagabanoush, red pepper hummus, pistchio stuffed olives, assorted charcuterie and plenty of vegetables. A bachannalian feast. PLUS this year they offered massages, yes! massages! at the finish line!! Not bad eh?

Unfortunately, for me, I did not discover running until I was in my early forties (ugh! that fact that I can say early-forties and it applies to me makes me cringe) and I really wish I had come upon the happiness it brings much sooner. One of the best race time today was that of a 14 year old who ran the race in 37 minutes! I have to say I did not envy him his time (ok, maybe a little or even a lot) but I envied him the fact that he, at 14, is enjoying running already.

I am a slow runner, more snail than gazelle and I am not efficient at it. I have a short stride, extra arm movements and my breasts, see previous blogs to get informed :) and hips get in the way. I figure I am more like an overweight giraffe than cool sleek cheetah. Nonetheless I run. I once told my good friend "I think I should stop running I am so inefficient at it" and she answered "Oh, but do you love it?' Wise wise response. I do love it.

Why do I love it? For me every race has one incredibly pristine mindful moment that makes it all worth while. It usually occurs after the second kilometer when I have got my stride just right, I've establish a solid pace and the music is playing. I forget the aches and pains and it is all just happiness and clear mind. I stop dictating patient reports in my head, thinking of powerpoint slides that need to be made and stop making plans for the week. It is just me, music and running.

Picture today: I am running pretty much "alone" except for a few walkers pushing strollers because I was late for the start (which allowed me to have my own private starting gun!). I am going over the Burrard Street bridge, English Bay to the left, False Creek to the right, the sun shinning on the East and this song comes on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QN_ze7QVYKg (listen to link).

Days they force you
Back under those covers
Lazy mornings they multiply
But glory's waiting
Outside your window
So wake on up from your slumber
And open up your eyes
Tongues are violent
Personal and focused
Tough to beat with
Your steady mind
But hearts are stronger after broken
So wake on up from your slumber
And open up your eyes
All these victims
Stand in line for
The crumbs that fall from the table
Just enough to get by
All the while
Your invitation
Wake on up from your slumber
Come on open up your eyes
Take from vandals
All you want now
But please don't trade it in for life
Replace the feeble
With the fable
Wake on up from your slumber
And open up your eyes
All these victims
Stand in line for
The crumbs that fall from the table
Just enough to get by
All the while
Your invitation
Wake on up from your slumber
Come on open up your eyes
Sing like we used to
Dance when you want to
Taste of the breakthrough
And open wide
All these victims
Stand in line for
The crumbs that fall from the table
Just enough to get by
All the while
Your invitation
Wake on up from your slumber
Come on open up your eyes
Sing like we used to
And dance like you want to
Open up your eyes.

And then IT happens an absolutely clear mindful moment "THIS is my life. THIS. IS. A. MOMENT. I am thankful and happy"

Here is the question: When do you give?

Over the last 46 years I have learned that it takes some tenacity to achieve what you want but I have also learned (as was drilled by my father into all of us) that in order to make the most of this tenacity one MUST weigh the costs against the benefits of a particular situation. What was not clear to me though was how much weight every benefit has to have to outweigh the costs. Am I making sense?

There are times when there is absolute clarity, no problem. The happiness of going on a school field trip to Stanley Park with #2 at age 11 far outweigh the possible need to pay for therapy for a 30 year old who did not spend enought time with his mother (I say this in jest but hey, it might happen despite all of #1 and #2 assurances).

Possibly extending my life for a few years (ok maybe months) if I run a few more ks each week outweighs the overwhelming need to lie on the couch with a bag of chips on my lap (today at least). Is the effort you put into a friendship worth it when you are the one always initiating contact BUT when you speak you laugh the entire time and it is as if you had seen each other yesterday? The answer is YES!! See? Clear costs and benefits.

Sometimes though it is not so clear - Is the red velvet muffin worth the calories? For the uninitiated in the cupcake arena the answer (as above with the friend) is always a resounding YES!! but is is often not worth it when you see the summer pile on you a couple of extra pounds. Is the confusing barrage of e-mails and stress from Pharma while on holidays worth the satisfaction of collaboration? Are 48 hours of FX research training worth a 22 hour flight to Santiago de Chile??? Mmmmhhhh .....???

So, when do you give? When do you eat the muffin or better yet when do you NOT eat the muffin? After only one pound? Two? When do you call your friend? Do you wait for their call? When do you drop the Pharma? After you have spent the last year reading, organizing, discussing, talking and doing? How much does it cost to walk away? Or if it becomes too much - is there beauty in walking away?

Feel free to contribute your thoughts. In the meantime I'll sit here and ponder while listening to Marie Digby who seems to know the way out. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrFi7ydokgI

13 reasons why I post so much on facebook: Utopia.

1) I get positive feedback - once I did not post for a week or so and I got lots of e-mails wondering if I was okay and still alive.

2) I spent the last 12 years of my life being the picture taker and documenter of our life - there are a few pictures of me and the boys but it's mostly them. So so now I take every opportunity to document my own life.

3) ALL of my extended family lives elsewhere, I post, they read - we are somehow CONNECTED!

4) I have made friends all over the world and THIS is the way to keep track of them all. JUST what Mark Zuckerberg intended.

5) I see something I like, a place I want to go, a restaurant I'd like to try, an event, a conference, a good book, etc.. I get the link and post - no need to carry hand written notes or to enter it into the iPhone, go back to facebook and check. Also JUST what Mark Zuckerberg wants me to do.

6) I can showcase my kids and their happiness and my parents get to see it daily from Mexico

7) I get to interact with my young nephews and niece whenever I want to which has really made for a much closer relationship between us

8) I have a lot to say and people should hear it BUT hang on ........ here comes the BEST part, IF someone DOES not want to hear about you they DONT have to!!!! Off the news feed, off the friend list - problem solved!

9) On my wall I can say whatever I want, people may comment and if I don't like the comment I have the God-like power to DELETE IT!!!!!!!!

All of those are valid but in the end it may all come down to these last 4:

10) I am egocentric and I think the world revolves around me

11) I probably have OCD and thus a compulsive need to tell everyone what I do and where I am at all times

11) I also very likely have a mild touch of ADHD and thus mild but pervasive problems with self regulation

12) I have always been an overachiever?

Think about it, where in real life, can you just let loose all of your DSM-IV pathology? Delete what you dislike? Unfriend those who do not agree with you?  Have the ones you love close? It is a truly intoxicating concept!! Who knew, in the end, Facebook, albeit virtual, is the true Utopia.

The blue-eyed summer

In June the children and I made our yearly pilgrimage to the Richmond Chinese Night Market where I bought blue colored prescripiton contact lenses. That very evening I put them on and went around the house with my blue magalocorneas and felt that I had somehow reinvented myself at age 46. I felt more attractive, sexier and maybe, just maybe, a little bit skinnier. Yep, you can get all that in a tiny $15 package!! :)

Before everyone goes "OMG I cannot believe you did that!! you will injure your eyes" I will tell you NO!! they do not injure your eyes. First, cheap colored prescription contact lenses improved my vision without harm (as scientifically confirmed by my very own very annoyed Optometrist who HAD to see me on a Sunday morning to documente the miracle) and let me tell you, ONCE you see WELL (back to hawk-like vision) you can NEVER not see well again. For many years I have asked this same Optometrist to make my vision "crisp", as crisp as a vascular surgeon may have in order to do complicated surgery on small vessels, but he kept saying it could not be done. He was baffled at the change and said "there was no science to explain the improvement" Whatever, it WORKED!!

As an aside this reminds me of my grandfather Raul who had worn glasses all of his life and eventually had cataract surgery at age 70 or so. Well, lo and behold his new eyesight was comparable to that of an eagle and when he woke up from surgery the first thing he saw were his wife's knees who were quite calloused as she was a devout catholic woman who attended mass daily and prayed while kneeling practically all of the days of her life. But anyway I digress, as I said, he wakes up, opens his eyes and the first thing he says to her is: "WHAT IS THAT on your knees??!!" (proof of his very poor prior vision if he could not even see his wife's knees, right?). Her very quick and succint answer "Oh, be quiet. They are callouses from kneeling and praying for YOU!" I loooooove that story.

To contine with the blue eyes, I will inform you that this eye change also led to an unexpected social behaviour experiment. To note, most people DO NOT pay attention to details. I cannot tell you how many times a good friend or colleague would stare at my face with this far away confused look before realizing that I had new fake bue eyes. Those of use trained in dysmorphology - WE PAY ATTENTION! This is our every day bread and butter, diagnosis of a particular disorder can be exclusively based on eye findings, be it color, Waardenburg syndrome or shape, Ohdo syndrome to name a couple. In regards to this social behaviour, one of my work colleagues (not a dysmorphologist) had me wondering for half a day if I had in some way offended her because she kept looking but not really looking at me until I asked: "Have I done something to upset you?" and she answered: "No, but there is something weird about you today" "Oooooh I now have blue eyes" and then her demeanor changed and an big "Ohhhhh" of recognition followed that put an end to all of the speculation of an offense on my part and an end to the weird looks on hers.

So to end this little diatribe, September is here and I am back to brown. I don't know if I will stay brown or maybe try something else, grey, green ...... the possibilities are endless. After all, there is not much, except some very painful and expensive cosmetic surgery that may in the end have me looking like one of those duck-faced Vancouver Housewives on TV that can provoke such a "feel-good" change at 46 eh?

Things I learned while the kids were away at Camp

I dropped my children off at the Horseshoe Bay Ferry Terminal last Sunday for a week of overnight Camp. This year Benjamin decided there was no need for him and Sebastian to go to the same place as he "needs to start developing some independence skills" Needless to say this distressed his mother, because although I think he is prefectly able to manage on his own there is something to be said about the comfort and security of the two of them being in the same place IF anything were to happen.

The drop off with Sebastian went smoothly. We met his counselor, an 18 year old Australian youn man who was very mature and appropriate and Sebastian and he hit it off really well from the start. Benjamin on the other hand was left in the care  of "Banana". Yes, Banana. She did not get up from the floor, did not make eye contact and did not extend her hand to greet us. When we asked for her name she said: "Banana". When we asked for her real name her response was (while giggling uncontrollably and covering her mouth with her hands): "I can't tell you". WTF?? I am leaving my 11 year old with YOU??? Thankfully there was another boy Jeremy in his group who comforted us by saying: "Don't worry I have been to this camp before and I am sure we will all be happy" while oozing 11 year old maturity. Great, at least Benj will have Jeremy.

I was a summer camp counsellor in New Hampshire for a few years and now that I am on the receiving end I wonder, did I come across as a professional and put together young woman or was I a Banana? I think I was pretty good at it. The responsabilites started at the Mexico City airport with the care (even the fist year I went, at age 11, I was put in charge) of a gaggle of unruly Mexican kids that had to be navigated through security, flight, flight changes, immigration, more security and second flight. I remember I was given the responsability of carrying the passports!!! and boarding tickets too !!! Eventually we all made it to Boston and Camp Q safely. So I must not have been a banana, then again maybe I was. If you knew me then you can comment but do it kindly :) it could destroy my self-esteem :).

Any hoo, Sebastian comes back today and Benjamin tomorrow and here are a few of the things I learned while they were away:

The house is way tooo big.

The house is waaaaaayyyyy to quiet.

Most of the phone calls (contrary to popular belief) are not for me.

The big bottle of shampoo CAN last more than one week.

I do not need to buy toilet paper as often as I thought.

I miss the creaking of their bedroom doors at night when they use the bathroom.

THEY eat ALL of the food in my home.

Hot dogs last forever is there are no teenagers in the house.

Laundry loads are infinitesimally small and frankly do not need to be done on a regular basis.

You get a pretty good workout if you have to climb up and down the stairs to get things that you forgot rather than have them go get them.

Going back and forth from the garage to the house to get things that you forgot (rather than place a quick call on the cell and have them meet you by the garage door) is a nuisance.

I cannot fix anything that requires complex electronic knowledge.

Watching sporting events on my own is booooorrrrrriiiinnng.

Time on my own is great but a little overrated. I have no need to be away from them.

If this is how it will feel when they go away to University I DO NOT LIKE IT.