Let the Record Show

There’s only one thing I envy about reality TV stars and that is their ability to look back on the footage of the previous hour, day or week. If my family’s everyday activities were recorded, I could tell you the exact time I first mentioned what time the practice was at, when we needed to meet someone, what was due at school that week, and the list of tasks around the house that needed to be done. I wouldn’t have to repeat myself over and over to remind my family what I’d asked them to do already (nor would I have to argue that they were, in fact, informed in advance). My moment of glory would come when one of them says, "You never told me that," and I would simply utter the magic words, "Let's go to the tape." There would be documented proof of whether or not teeth were brushed, who made that mark on the wall, why the back door was left unlocked, and who ate the last bowl of ice cream.

From this 24/7 account of my life, I could make a monthly montage of the highlights to remind my loved ones of how many times I was right and how they would have been better off if they had only listened to me. I would also have a record of all my brilliant ideas, witty insights, and utterly charming moments that were fleeting because I was interrupted by a whiny kid, a question about a lost piece of clothing, a pot overflowing on the stove, or the urgent need for a ride. I would, of course, give myself the power to edit out unflattering angles, bad hair days, and unfortunate clothing choices.

Many years into the future, I would be able to live every mother’s dream when visiting my grown children by giving them a little payback. I would leave my dirty dishes on top of their dishwasher, use up the last of their milk then put it back in the fridge, and unroll reams of toilet paper leaving just one square for the next user. I would not feel an ounce of remorse when I spill things on their carpet, leave crumbs on their counter, blast my favourite music, walk out of the room with the TV left on, and complain about what they’re making for dinner. When they ask why I was being so inconsiderate and ungrateful, I would bring out the recorded evidence of any random day from their childhood— and rest my case.

On the other hand, I suspect that this TV reality life would wear thin quickly resulting in too much information, a violation of privacy rights, and difficulty moving on from the repeats of a bad episode. My whole “I told you so” scenario may also blow up in my face when, on the rare occasion, the infraction may be mine. I would steadfastly deny that I said anything mean, inaccurate, or unladylike, and that’s when my family would say, “Let's go to the tape.”

Just a Peek

The night before Christmas, it had started to snow,

Mom said it was time,

To my bed I should go.

With a kiss and a hug, I was tucked in all snug,

Yet I had a plan,

I admit; I was smug.

They thought I would snooze, that I wasn’t a snitch.

I lay there in bed

And started to twitch.

I heard all the stories; rumours I would snatch,

His was the legend,

No one could match.

I had to know more, all I caught was a snippet,

I asked for the truth,

They told me to zip it!

I weighed all my options, this could be a snafu,

Nevertheless,

What would you do?

With slippers on in a snap, I started to sneak.

I said to myself,

It’s just a peek.

I could hear my dad snore as I watched for a snare;

This could be a trap,

Proceed if you dare.

With a snicker I thought, I would witness a snit;

If they knew I was up,

They would really lose it.

A creak on the stairs, I stopped with a sniff,

Then snaked down the rest,

To the hall, in a jiff.

Detour to the kitchen, a bribe? No, a snack,

Don’t worry big guy,

I’ve got your back.

I crept on all fours, followed by my dog’s big wet snout,

But I was getting close,

I had to find out.

So I held back a giggle, this was simply a snag;

I was on the right track,

I saw the red bag.

He’s snazzy, I snorted through my one snaggletooth;

I thought that he saw me,

To tell you the truth.

Then tapping a finger on the side of his schnoz,

He was gone in a flash,

Good old Santa Claus.

Under the tree my new snorkel, yes it pays off to snoop,

I could rest with the knowledge,

I was now in the loop.

My eyelids grew heavy, I moved like a snail,

Off to dreamland I drifted,

The end of my tale.

©2009 by Julie Ann Poirier

Acts of Kindness

I often wonder how our goat is doing, and more importantly, how the family that heifer.org picked to give it to is doing.

Six years ago, my kids opened a beautiful card provided by the non-profit organization that announced their Christmas gift from me that year was a goat that would be given to a needy family in a developing country. It was somewhat anti-climatic given the array of electronic gadgets, chocolates, and power tools that littered the floor around the illuminated fraser fir that morning but I’d like to think that someday the memory will resonate in their minds when they consider how fortunate our family is.

At the time, it took some research to determine which charity tried to do the most with its donations but since then, MoneySense magazine began publishing an annual report that grades charitable organizations in Canada based on various criteria, and although no charity is perfect, some high-profile organizations didn’t fare well (see charitynavigator.org for American charities). Knowing where your fundraising dollars are going is just as important as knowing where your other purchasing dollars are going and some charities need to be held more accountable for the administrative or advertising costs spent on paying CEOs, airing commercials, and running lotteries rather than spending that money on the cause. I am suspicious of corporations trying to embed themselves in our “helping” culture: breast cancer pink symbols on every product imaginable or spending more money telling us how generous they are than the actual amount of the donation. I would also encourage primary schools to consider supporting a wider variety of charities instead of same ones every year, possibly something related directly to children their own age. Since I cannot control where my donation dollar goes, I would rather volunteer my time, or give our winter coats, or fundraise for events which are local. Again, this falls under my parenting philosophy: be well-informed in order to make better decisions; don’t let someone else shape your opinions, get involved and learn the facts. Okay, so I’m not the fun parent in this family.

I do gripe about how I managed to raise two ungrateful children but in reality, I think some messages have sunk in. Let me take a moment to say that I’m a proud parent of kids who are peer mediators, who attend leadership conferences, who receive school board awards for participating in the Gay-Straight Alliance to prevent bullying, who volunteer for VIP programs for drug awareness and reading programs at the library, and who take part in their school Me to We and Students Making a Change clubs which participate in good works such as Halloween for Hunger, flash mobs to collect canned food, bake sales to fundraise for mosquito nets, and the annual Me to We day to raise awareness for Free the Children while becoming better citizens both locally and globally.

The world has its problems, and the thought of how much help is needed can be overwhelming but I hope the lesson learned for my kids is how small acts of kindness add up to make a big difference, not just at Christmas but throughout the year.