I know you love this song, and when you listen to it, always remember there’s strength in numbers … think of all of us behind you. We’ve got your back — so you just focus on looking forward. You’ll get through this.

xoxox

And knowing that they are in the past, makes me recognize that some of my most cherished things today will soon be a yesterday. From the daily pleasures of parenthood, these are the things I’d like to bottle-up forever:

• How Max, who is 3, will run downstairs if he notices that I am in the laundry and chant, “I help? I help!”
• How Max says “Aw-wright” instead of “Alright.” I can’t even bear to correct him, it is just that cute.
• How Stella, who is 9, will get Max some breakfast in the morning and even put his potty seat on the toilet for him.
• How when I come home from work, both kids rush out to greet me with hugs and “Hi Mom!”
• How Stella has decided that she will be an artist and go to the same university that I went to, in the hopes of staying in the same dorm building.
• How Max has the most adorable dimples right above his bottom.
• How Stella shares all her feelings so frankly with us.

I know these things will change with time. So I record them here, and hope it helps me remember them forever.

In it, I questioned all the pink ribbons being slapped on everything from cell phones to chocolate bars; and wondered out loud about corporate profit-teering from an illness that is hurting so many of us. I didn’t have any easy answers, and instead decided that rather than promote one of the many pink campaigns landing in my email box from PR firms to share some tips for early prevention.

With the Susan G. Komen Foundation in hot water, the issue of pink-washing is top of mind with many bloggers. For me, with a good friend preparing for chemo, cancer has been on my mind daily. So when I came across Annie’s most excellent post at PhD in Parenting titled “Cancer Sucks, Pink is Profitable, and Cures are Magically Blameless,” I had to share it with you.

She starts her post by admitting “that I haven’t always questioned pink washing as carefully as I should in the past.” This, I’m sure, we can all admit to. It feels good to buy pink … to feel like we’re contributing to a worthy and important cause.

However, she concludes, with the help of a documentary titled Pink Ribbons Inc., that pink is only profitable if it focuses on finding a cure–not prevention. Her words:

The bulk of breast cancer research money in past years has gone into researching a cure. In the movie, they note that only 3 to 5 percent of funds go towards prevention of breast cancer.  In Canada, around 6.5 percent of money raised goes towards research into risk factors and risk reduction. Why is the number so low?

• Is it because the prospect of a cure generates hope and therefore attracts more research dollars?
• Is it because the focus on the cure doesn’t upset any corporate sponsors that may be contributing to the cause?
• Is it because preventing cancer may dry up the enormous cash cow that pink ribbon campaigns have become?

And yet, more than anything, we need to find out why cancer rates are high and what we can do as a society in terms of prevention.

This image is not from a real campaign but illustrates an all-too-familiar corporate dichotomy. Image source.

Let’s demand accountability in exchange for our donation dollars.

To read more on this issue, please check out Annie’s post in full here, as well as by visiting Breast Cancer Action.

Edited to add: No, I’m not being a spoil-sport when I don’t play along with your “what colour” bra are you wearing meme on Facebook. It’s a f*cking terrible idea, people! (And you know I rarely swear on this blog, so I’m pretty serious here.) Please read this post at Toddler Planet to understand why. 

And another thing I’d like to add as well: As one reader as been so good as to share, the Komen story has evolved since I wrote this post. There’s a lot I didn’t know about this organization. You can learn more by reading this post by Jessica Gottlieb. I warn you though, it might make you feel like vomiting.

I never made it to the cleaning products aisle. I got caught in the organics, healthy, and pseudo-healthy products aisle. It’s pretty fantastic in there. You just never know what you’re going to find. As evidence, check out this breakfast cereal:

I just knew I had to have it. I reached up and grabbed it from the shelf, but swallowed heavily when I saw the price. For this small 8oz bag, more than $11.00! Before putting it back on the shelf, since it was clearly too expensive to buy simply as a gag, I reviewed the ingredients. Turns out you only need two tablespoons of this Canadian-made cereal each morning and the ingredients are heavenly healthy.

Well, that sure made justification easy! In my grocery cart it went.

I’ve tried it twice now. The first time sprinkled on yogurt, which was pretty good. And the second time was on its own with milk, which tasted like a gravel mixed with ashes from an old fire pit.

You win some, you lose some. And in this edition of impractical purchasing, I lost.

p.s. In a “Holy Crap!” moment this morning, I received an email informing me that the Coffee with Julie blog has placed 2nd in the Family & Parenting category of the 2011 Canadian Weblog Awards. The 1st place award went to Home to Heather, and the 3rd place went to Under the High Chair — both of which I plan to drop into my Google Reader this morning. These awards have a special place in my heart because they’re juried by bloggers and blog enthusiasts for quality, not popularity. It must be a hella lot of work organizing and judging these awards (all volunteers) so I feel very honoured and grateful.

Liam Neeson in the film The Grey. Photo credit.

It’s old fashioned and sexist to believe that men should all be strong and brave, just as it would be to believe that all women should be nurturing and gentle. But the news has been filled with stories of weak, dishonourable men as of late. And it is making me long for a time (fictional or not) for when “men were men.”

First there is the Penn State football scandal in which assistant football coach Jerry Sandusky repeatedly abused young boys. On several occasions, according to this report posted today, Sandusky was caught in the middle of abusing a child:

• In the fall of 2000, a janitor named James Calhoun witnesses Sandusky pinning a young boy up against a wall and abusing him. He does not pull Sandusky off the child and get the child to safety.
• In this same year, another employee, Ronald Petrosky, is cleaning the showers and comes across Sandusky abusing another young boy. Again, another man witnesses a man abusing a child and does not intervene and get the child to safety.
• In 2002, a graduate assistant to the team, Mike McQueary, comes across Sandusky sodomizing a young boy. Yet again, another a grown man does not intervene and get the child to safety.

I like to think that if I had been in the position of any of the three men above that I would run up screaming and yelling and try to push Sandusky away from the child. I also strongly believe that the men I know best would rather risk a black eye and upsetting an influential sports figure on campus, than live with knowing that they walked away from a child who desperately needed help. It’s one thing to hear of suspected abuse, but to witness it in the act not intervene? I simply can’t understand this.

Next, we have Captain Schettino of the Costa Concordia. His ship goes down, and rather than working to organize a rescue, he jumps overboard and saves himself. From a lifeboat, he watches the passengers frantically trying to escape while a Coast Guard captain urges him to go back on board to assist with the rescue. The entire conversation between Schettino and the Coast Guard is recorded and you can hear the captain’s weak excuses for not going back and the Guard finally demanding that he do — ” Get back aboard, damn it!” – to no avail. There are 11 passengers confirmed dead, and another 23 still unaccounted for.

And last but not least, the major news from yesterday was the guilty verdict in the Shafia case. Three members of the family, including the father, are charged with killing four members of the family – three sisters and the father’s second wife. Again, we have a man, Mohammad Shafia, putting his own needs first.

In the Penn State case, it would seem that the men did nothing so that they could avoid ruffling the feathers of a popular football team’s leadership, while in the Costa Concordia situation, Schettino feared for his own life and ran for shelter rather than to fulfill his duty as captain. Then, with Shafia, he is so focused on his own “honour” and reputation, he murders his own flesh and blood. Rather than re-examine his own values and do the hard work of bridging a compromise with his daughters, he decided to just make the “problem” go away.

I know there are plenty of honourable men – and women — in our society today. They quietly do hard, brave work every day. But the spate of recent media stories has really had me feeling sick to my stomach.

I love the arts and I’m pretty much up for seeing any kind of performance. But this ballet did interest me in particular because, according to reviews, it was not your standard traditional ballet. So much so, that it was cautioned that this ballet is not intended for young children. Since I have an ongoing connection with Canada’s National Arts Centre, I got in touch and asked about tickets and doing a giveaway on the Coffee with Julie blog.

Last night, Hubby and I picked up our gifted tickets and attending the opening night of Svengali in Ottawa. Normally, I would bring a girlfriend to a ballet because Hubby has a tendency to fall asleep in any warm, dark room. But I thought he might enjoy this one, and it was a good excuse for a date night. I won’t go into the plot of the performance since other reviews (links included throughout this post) already do that, and will instead simply focus on our experience.

A Visual Turn-On

As it turns out, I was right. We both enjoyed the show immensely. To borrow the words of CBC art critic Robert Enright, it was a “visual turn-on.”

Svengali exerting his powers, played by Harrison James. Photo credit: Bruce Monk.

The choreography struck me as very unique, and in many instances, so emotionally moving. I lack the words to adequately describe this, without just sounding silly. But as example, in the car on the way home, Hubby pointed out a movement in particular where the dancers were fluttering their hands behind their backs. It sounds simple, right? But the way it was pulled off, combined with the music, was so effective. Here, Alison Mayes, an art critic with the Winnipeg Free Press, describes another series of powerful movements:

“In one poignant moment, Trilby (Amanda Green), the female star, has just become the toast of the town, showered with glitter and flowers. As soon as she’s out of the spotlight, she slumps and the bouquet slips to the floor — a snapshot of emptiness that speaks of manipulated stars like Michael Jackson.“

These kinds of poignant moments were brought to life through clever choreography throughout the night. I was particularly touched by one scene where men are coming up to Trilby, the central female character, and embracing her while a split second later, pushing her away to the floor like garbage.

Another photo of Svengali and Trilby, played by Amanda Green, an absolutely beautiful dancer. 

As much as Hubby and I were both mesmerized by the choreography, Paula Citron, an art critic with the Globe and Mail, panned it harshly. Her chief complaint seems to be how unrecognizable this rendition of Svengali is to its original tale, published in 1894. Since neither of us had ever read that book, this did not affect us in the least. However, she also notes:

“A major weakness in Godden’s production lies in the fact that Svengali’s hypnotic powers and charisma are practically invisible, rendering James about as threatening as a Boy Scout.”

She’s got a point here. I’m not sure if this is the fault of the choreography or the choice of James to play Svengali — who is a talented dancer but he does not bring an intimating physicality to the role — or both. Citron also feels that the archetypes and symbolism fall “flatter than a pancake.” And she may even have a point here as well.

But, again, this did not interfere with our enjoyment. It was a visual delight, from start to finish, and the plot was more of secondary consideration to us when all was said and done.

Even the costumes were captivating. Act III was an absolute highlight, with its glamorous and sexually alluring skin-coloured costumes.  (I tried to find a photograph for you, but I couldn’t.)

Unnecessary Distractions

As I’ve tried to explain above, any failures in the plot were of no real consequence to our overall enjoyment. But there were a minor few elements that I thought distracting, even bizarre.

• The opening music was from the birth scene in in the cult film “2001: A Space Odyssey.” I actually thought it was the Star Wars music at first. All in all, it seemed like a bizarre choice. Either too obvious or not obvious enough to be a tongue-in-cheek reference. Especially since no other pop culture music references were made in the rest of the performance.
• In a powerful scene where Svengali is destroying her metaphorical “hearts,” a large garbage can is pulled onto the stage. On it were bright white letters reading “GLASS.” Everything else was a metaphor … the paper hearts, etc, and here they write GLASS? Again, bizarre. Unnecessary and distracting.

And completely out of the control of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, but:

• A woman stood in the aisle next to my seat and alternated between standing up and sitting down on the carpet. I’m assuming she had a bad back, but it was annoying. I noticed an employee crouching down to speak with her, but that didn’t seem to change anything and she stayed put.
• For the love of gawd, the National Arts Centre needs to do something about the women’s bathrooms. There are simply not enough stalls! There is nothing less elegant than a bunch of elegantly dressed woman waiting in a long line down a hallway to use the facilities. This taxpayer begs you to please funnel any public grant funds to building more women’s washrooms!

Should you rush out and get tickets?

If you have any interest in dance, I would highly recommend it. If you only have a passing interest in dance, but are looking for a nice date — hit Le Cafe and then the show, for a great evening. If you don’t enjoy dance performances at all and have a weak bladder, you might want to just take a pass.

The show is running in Ottawa at the NAC from January 26-28th, so you’ll need to act quick if you’d like to go. I checked ticket availability today and although the orchestra level looks mainly sold-out, there are many other seats still up for grabs. Prices range from $55-85 and you can buy them online by clicking here.

I had gathered a few special things:

In the background is a print that Hubby gave me after Stella was born, titled Mother and Child. The boxed book box collection is Griffin and Sabine trilogy. The wooden box is a “treasure box” that my parents gave me as a child when they returned from a trip to Egypt. And the carved wooden owl was a gift from my mother-in-law.

I tried a variety of combinations and none of them were entirely pleasing to me. There just seemed to be something missing. See what I mean?

Hubby came to my rescue though. He said he knew exactly what my vignette needed.

So he added his wallet and a lighter.

Magical, isn’t it? :p

It was my party, and I just wanted to wear sweatpants and have a few laughs with my girlfriends. But, believe it or not, in the photo above we were actually creating a special masterpiece just for me, the birthday girl! After it was all said and done, I had our creation stretched onto canvas by 4 Cats ($75 fee). I am so happy I did. It is such a fantastic piece, so filled with memories for me now.

So without further adieu, here is the final reveal of our group creation. It’s on the bookshelf in my office — my favourite place in our new home. (Forgive the photo quality. The photos from the party were taken by my friend Andrea, who is a talented photog, whereas the one below was taken by me on my phone.)

We all had such a fabulous time at the splatter paint party. I really recommend it! I’ve since been back to the 4 Cats Arts Studio to drive Stella to a children’s workshop. The place really is awesome, and I particularly like the owner Emaly. If you decide to head on over to Hintonburg to check it out, please say “hi!” for me!

I don’t even really care for downhill skiing though. It’s just an experience that I’d like my children to have. But when you visit a ski resort for a weekend, it is a HOLIDAY! And I love holidays. So I am so excited that we’re going to visit Smuggler’s Notch, or “Smuggs,” as it’s often called.

I’ve heard about Smuggler’s for ages and the thing that really caught my attention was the stellar reputation of their kids’ programs. The resort has invited my family to visit for a three-night stay this winter season. To help us learn more about the resort and plan our stay, we were sent a package, which arrived this weekend.

Wow, this is no ski hill and a few restaurants. This is like a winter Disneyland — there is so much to do!

We watched the DVD that came in the package on Sunday evening. Stella, who’s nine, is particularly excited about the zipline and the arts & crafts programs. Max, who’s three, is interested in the skiing with other children. And Hubby, who is snow-crazy, is excited that not only can he ski and snowboard, but he can also go ice-climbing.

As for me, I’m looking forward to having a proper ski lesson (normally I just point my skiis straight ahead and hold my breath down the green hills!) and taking part in a guided snow-shoe trek. But I’m also hoping that if the kids’ programs are as great as they are reputed to be, that I can grab a bit of “me time” while we’re there as well. Is that so wrong?