School stress

When you look at what you've got on your plate (kids, work, committees, house, garden, food, bills, aging parents, carpooling, Scholastic book orders, salvaging marriage, etc., etc.), compared to your child (school, playdates, colouring, gymnastic, Lego, park, snack,  TV, and so on), naturally, you're going pick yourself as the more stressed individual.

Of course, we know and accept that teens experience all kinds of pressures, but through our grown-up lenses, the life of younger kids can seem pretty sweet and simple. It's easy to forget that they have their own real-life worries, or to dismiss the ones they express as inconsequential.

Sadly, my confident and fun-loving five-year-old seems to be at that age when the notion of peer acceptance dawns, and sometimes that manifests in the oddest ways. It would still never occur to him to be embarrassed by his own nudity, but if a new T-shirt is too big he might say,  "That's so embarassing." When he hurt himself for the third time in short-succession yesterday (an unhappy trifecta of slipping down the basement stairs, bonking his nose on an arm rest and stubbing his toe), he said, "Everyone will think I'm so silly for hurting myself three times." I mean, who cares what they think? And who would I tell? (Oops!) But it's as if, in his mind, his whole senior kindergarten class might get wind of this.

With the return of school and the adjustment to new routines and new relationships that it brings, Concerned Children's Advertisers offers these suggestions for helping children manage stress, however big or small.

• Anxiety about anything new is a normal experience. Share a situation from your

childhood in which you experienced anxiety as a way to let your child know you

understand what he or she is going through.

• Be open and available to talk with your child. Let your child know that you will

always find time to talk about what is going on in his or her life.

• Routines are important to your child’s level of comfort. Set a bedtime, homework

time, sharing time, play time and down time. Try to keep to the schedule as much as

possible.

• Communicate with those who influence your child’s life. As soon as you see

signs of stress, make an appointment to speak with your child’s teachers, coaches

and/or family doctor.

• Maintain important friendships. Reinforce how relationships with friends play an

important role in our lives. Take the initiative to set up play dates for your children with

a variety of their friends.

• Exercise appropriate strategies handling your own stress. Children are very

observant and watch how parents handle stressful situations. Be a good role model

as your child is likely to adopt the strategies you use to cope with stress.

• Eat Smart. A balanced diet, in accordance with Canada’s Food Guide to Healthy

Eating, provides the necessary fuel to nurture your child’s brain and body.

• Move More. Encourage your child to find a good balance between active and passive

activities. Sport, fitness and playtime do a lot to help reduce stress.

• Be Media Wise. Be aware of the content and amount of time in which your child

interacts with various media.

Speaking of stress, here's a story about a teen who has had plenty to deal with, and her quest to dispel myths about mental health.

And check out the passionate exchange happening between readers of this story on the school agenda with an unfortunate typo.

Stem cells - a luxury good?

It was one of my yuppier parenting acts, I'll admit.

I froze my kids' cord blood, collected at birth, because, well, it seemed like one of those things you'd kick yourself for NOT doing if your child ever had a dreadful disease for which source of his own stem cells could be a lifesaver. We're lucky that we can (sort of) afford this.

In case you're not familiar, it works something like this (details slightly fuzzy because nature makes women forget some aspects of childbirth):

For around $900, a private cryogenic storage facility supplies you with a kit you take to the hospital. Your doctor collects blood from the baby's umbilical cord shortly after his first cry. Sometime between the phone calls to the grandparents and that first sushi run, the proud partner summons a courier to gallantly transport your child's genetic material to its frosty new home, where (fingers crossed) it will forever stay.

In order to continue chilling these little super-cells, the private company charges you about $100 a year (per kid).

Of course, when we were expecting our second child, there wasn't any sort of debate about whether or not we'd collect his cord blood. Just try to imagine the scenario where your younger child needs them and you only have a chance of a partial match from his brother's stem cells. "Sorry, son. When your big brother was born we were all on top of the cord blood and the photo albums, but we just didn't get organized when we were expecting you."

So during this bill-paying session, I made another comment about how when you're in for a penny, you're in for a pound with cord blood (or more like, when you're in for 90,000 pennies,  you're in for 9,000 pounds, once you have a second, plus about 100 pounds a year).

My husband grumbled, "Well, when they're grown they can pay for it themselves."

Me: "So, when they move out we'll simply explain that, 'We'll cover your tuition and residence, you pay for books and your cord blood?'"

I don't know about you, but given their incredible senses of immortality, I'm not sure 18-year-olds can be relied upon to make the right choice between Kraft dinner and their stem cells.

I kind of feel like this is just one of those things we'll need to keep doing because it's a little legacy project that we began. Sure, it might seem silly to others when, as senior citizens, we'll still be writing cheques to preserve the umbilical cord blood of our sons, ages 40 and 36.

But maybe then we'll treasure that little act of parenting simply because our children are all grown up, and there are no more snow suits to zip or parent-teacher meetings to attend.

         

The Allergy story

I never imagined I'd be a one of those peanut moms.

When my first child, Cameron, was about 2 1/2, I was having some peanut butter toast, and he wanted a bite. I was an editor at a parenting magazine at the time, and was well-versed in the prevalence of severe allergies, but I thought, "I've waited long enough; it's probably fine."

Within five minutes, Cameron had thrown up. We hoped it was just one of those random kid vomits, but it was hard not to feel a bit of panic. We mentioned it at our next doctor's visit. "It's probably nothing," she said, "but it might be a good idea to talk about testing him." Before we'd made it to the allergists', he'd accidentally been given a peanut butter candy by a Sunday school teacher who thought she'd procured Halloween-coloured Smarties from the bulk bin. Again he threw up, and this time he turned pale and clammy.

I guess it was no surprise when a scratch test turned up positive, and it's something we've learned to live with, but I went through a strange mourning period, if you'll excuse the hyperbole. I couldn't believe we would have to become those hyper-vigilant people who had to throw wet blankets on birthday parties and trips to the ice cream shop.

If you haven't read Kristin Rushowy's interesting piece about the allergy debate that's popped up surrounding St. Stephen Catholic School, please do. Readers are engaged in a particularly passionate debate.

Long before I became one of those peanut moms, I found it the tenor of people's opposition to food restrictions in shared spaces surprising. After all, what do one individual's snacking preferences amount to stacked up next to someone else's life-threatening allergy? Will it really not be a baseball game if you can only get a ticket in the peanut-free zone?

We see that same anger, and suggestion that the "healthy" child's individual rights are in jeopardy, in the debate happening among this story's commenters. Check it out and add your voice to the debate, or let me know what you think by commenting on this blog.

As for my Cameron, who's active, strong and rarely has a cold or fever, I think he's a perfectly healthy. I guess, like any other parent — with our bottles of hand sanitizer, reminders to look both ways, and "eat-your-vegetables" reprimands — I'm just trying to keep him that way.

Halloween Hullabaloo

Have your kids decided what to be for Halloween? Last night I discovered (to my dismay) that all the Luke Skywalker costumes on buycostumes.com are sold out. I hope this means I'm not out of luck, but my five-year-old just changed his mind from side kick Hans Solo to the man himself, and I've been - perhaps naively - hoping that, should this happen, I'd be able to borrow the Luke costume, since there had to be at least a dozen Lukes on the playground last year.  The infant-sized Chewbacca costume for my younger son is another story. That's a definite online buy.

Still, for a sewing-challenged parent like me, it's a relief that Cameron is veering toward a mass-produced movie character this Halloween. Yes, part of me feels like it would be so much more creative and interesting to construct some sort of clever D-I-Y costume out of egg cartons and old vacuum tubes. It briefly looked as though I was in trouble when he wanted to be the Pink Panther. Pretty sure they don't have Pink Panther at Toys 'R Us.

Though the toughest Halloween fulfillment order, surely, is what you're faced with when your little one can't decide WHAT to be, and instead concocts some sort of hybrid two-for-one costume in his or her little mind. Like being, say, "half Indiana Jones, half werewolf." I have absolutely no good advice for those situations.

What deadline do you impose for a final decision about Halloween costumes? I'm thinking that it's got to be soon... October 1st?

How do you plan to celebrate? Halloween has, apparently, become the second-biggest festive occasion in terms of consumer spending, and it's clear that some of that goes into decor and party decorations. Some people are clearly forgoing trick-or-treating for at-home Halloween parties, or doing both.

We live in a very kid-friendly, walkable neighbourhood, and Halloween is the time I feel most grateful for that. There's a great vibe on the street, parents socializing as kids bound up and down porch steps, fuelled by sugar and the high of being outside after dark. When the kids are done trick-or-treating, our enclosed porch is a great place to enjoy a drink with friends while the kids count their candy.

Watch here for details of our Halloween contest, and for tips on having a fun, safe and EASY Halloween.

Life sentences for 14-year-olds?

Prime Minister Stephen Harper says, if re-elected, he'll bring in tough new legislation that, among other things, would allow judges to sentence young offenders to life in prison for first- or second-degree murder. Also, the changes would mean that the names of all young offenders who commit violent crimes could be made public. Youth advocates say there's no evidence that naming them will actually reduce violent crime. In fact, they say the opposite is true - that some misguided kids want the notoriety of being a gangster, and that naming them in the media simply feeds into this desire.

What do you think? To comment on Harper's proposed legislation, join the discussion on the article here.

Amusements parks and other business

I got nauseous on the "Berry-Go-Round" at the Ukrainian Festival in Bloor West Village a week ago.

Alongside its plates of boiled perogies and cobs of butter-drenched corn, our little local festival features a tot-sized carnival with rides geared to the bouncy-castle set. Climbing inside one of a half-dozen strawberry-shaped huts along with my five year old and three other riders, I felt well within my comfort zone. But within seconds, the mother sitting across from me and I were both willing ourselves not to be ill. In the final moments, I resorted to being a complete wet blanket and forbidding my son and the other boy on the ride from turning the wheel that spun the strawberry on its unholy little axis.

Needless to say I wasn't ready for the Behemoth when we hit Canada's Wonderland on the weekend.

Does anyone out there know why so many of us are less tolerant of dizzy-making rides as we age? Is there some deterioration of the inner ear that occurs to make us queasy on the Gravitron, and even to cause that little flip in the tummy when we try to relive our high-flying days on the swings at the park? Or is it plain-old fear of injury, the kind you simply cannot experience when you have barely a notion of your own mortality, or even that your bones are breakable? I'd love to know.

But maybe some of you had no time to contemplate amusements rides over the weekend because you were inside constructing a solar system out of papier mache or helping your child work through pages of rote math exercises. I encourage you to check out the interesting discussion that is happening in the comments on Kristin Rushowy's story about homework.

Please visit this blog often. I'll point you to some of the interesting stuff we have on the site (if you haven't yet checked out our great finder tools, including listings of all registered daycares, be sure you do), and share a little of my own parenting adventures (and misadventures) as well, too. I welcome your comments and feedback. This blog can also be a place where we discuss and debate some of the issues that come up in the news. If you're wondering where to find the latest on the Chinese tainted milk story, by the way, you can read it here.

And speaking of milk, Dr. Jack Newman's breastfeeding clinic could close because the private funding source is drying up. Let's hope this clinic — which has helped thousands of mothers overcome some of the difficulties that derail breastfeeding — finds another way to keep its doors open. Read Andrea Gordon's article here.