Natrel Baboo is a dairy product that claims to be specifically designed for toddlers aged 12-24 months. It’s supposedly easier for toddlers to digest than cow’s milk. It’s sold in tetra paks and ultra high temperature pasteurized, so while it says that it contains fresh milk and no preservatives, it does not require refrigeration. The idea is that Natrel Baboo will somehow ease the weaning process for a toddler, helping them to transition more easily from breast milk or formula to cow’s milk. Right now it’s 30 cents off at the Thrifty Foods near my house, so … score?

Like I said, the product caught my eye, so I had to check it out more closely. Specifically, I wanted to see what was in this stuff, anyway. But before I got to the ingredients, I got to the marketing message on the back. This sentence extolling Natrel Baboo’s virtues caught my eye:

It is easy to digest because its milk protein closely matches breast milk.

Do you want to know how to irritate a lactivist? Claim that a product which lists “reconstituted ultrafiltered milk permeate” as the first ingredient closely matches breast milk. That really gets our goat. It’s simply not possible to manufacture something that closely matches breast milk. Formula companies do their very best to try, and I commend their efforts to ensure that babies who aren’t exclusively breastfed are receiving the best possible nutrition. But those same formula companies are excluded from making these sorts of claims under the WHO Code of Marketing of Breast-milk Substitutes. Natrel Baboo can get away with it, because it is intended for toddlers, who are not covered under the code.

There’s something else on the label that really raised my lactivist hackles, and it was this:

Important notice: Breastfeeding is the best method of feeding infants in the first six months of life and is recommended for as long as possible during infancy.

(The italics are mine.)

Natrel Baboo is sold here in Canada, but its makers seem to be unaware that the Canadian Pediatric society recommends that breastfeeding continue up to age two and beyond. That statement clearly implies that at some point during infancy breastfeeding is just going to become impossible. Or, failing that, it suggests that breastfeeding should not continue outside of infancy. I believe that it’s up to every mother and child to set their own breastfeeding schedule. This is not some sort of contest to see who can go on the longest. But many nursing pairs happily continue through toddlerhood, and even into the preschool years. That is perfectly fine – in fact, it’s better than fine – although it means fewer customers for Natrel Baboo, so it’s no surprise they’re not lauding the benefits of nursing during the second year of life, let alone the third or fourth.

Still, most toddlers aren’t breastfeeding here in North America. Let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that your toddler is already weaned, or never really got started with breastfeeding in the first place. Does that mean that Natrel Baboo is the superior choice? There’s simply no clear evidence to support that claim. Nutritionists and dieticians who worked with Natrel say it has added benefits over whole cow’s milk, but I read an article quoting at least one independent nutritionist who disagrees. The Canadian Pediatric Society recommends that toddlers who aren’t breastfeeding drink whole cow’s milk or follow-up formula from 12-18 months of age, and whole cow’s milk from 18-24 months of age. All of this seems to suggest that the product is likely unnecessary.

The big difference for Natrel Baboo is the cost – it’s quite a lot more expensive than whole cow’s milk. I’m calling marketing spin. I believe the company is trying to create a need where none exists. Frankly, that ticks my inner lactivist off big time.

Clearly, I’m not a fan of Natrel Baboo, although I do have to admit it comes in a very pretty package. I wonder what you think. Would you buy this for your kids? Why or why not?

In the middle of the crunchy, creaky, cranky day-to-day, I lose sight of myself. I forget. But then those moments come that remind me. Little flashes of truth and memory flit across my consciousness, until I almost can’t remember how very wronged I am. I watch my babies sleeping, or share an inside joke, or see that look in someone’s eye that lets me know they remember and care. These little moments are what see me through, and stop my words in throat before they come spilling out of my mouth into a big puddle of anger and blame.

Those moments make me swallow it all. It doesn’t taste good, but it makes me feel better. It’s kind of like taking medicine, I think. Sometimes you just have to choke it down.

Looking around my family room right now, I see the ghosts of my days moving around in front of me. Water paints, dropped on the floor. Dirt on the carpet beside the back door. Flip flops, flung from little girl feet. A hard hat, worn by a very serious three-year-old “builder man”. It’s easy to feel annoyed, as I survey the remnants left behind. But when I remember the moments, I see exuberance and joy and play and life. Messy, messy, imperfect, beautiful life. There is just so much of it in this place that it explodes across the whole house, leaving debris in its wake. Reminders of the fullness that can wear me down, and build me right back up again.

Sometimes, when we can’t take it anymore, my husband and I get down on the floor and clean together, sorting Potato Head bits and puzzle pieces and dress-up clothes. Sometimes we both become frustrated until we’re shooting each other looks, wordless accusations flung across the room: look what your children did. But then a joke is made, the floor is clean, and we both remember why. Why we chose each other, why we love these kids, why our life is beautiful even in its messiness.

Maybe one day, I will find order in the chaos. Maybe one day, my children will learn to put all of their stuff away and I will become better about enforcing tidy-up times. Maybe one day the mess won’t grate on me like it does now. Until then, I do my best to remember the why behind the crunchy, creaky, cranky day-to-day. It’s always right there, waiting to remind me.

I had some reasonable success with reducing the amount of PVC in my home. I bought a new yoga mat, cleaned out the old (and frankly kind of yucky) bath toys, got new PVC-free lunchboxes for my kids, and started going through my kids’ toys. Did I clear out all the PVC? No. I didn’t throw out every single toy that may contain PVC, and I am not about to take steps to replace my PVC piping with something else. But I did make some tangible changes, and I plan to make more as I work my way through the PVC items in my house. Up next? I need to buy some PVC-free binders.

This month, I’m tackling something with a more clear-cut impact on my personal carbon footprint. Donating my old yoga mat and buying a new one might reduce the number of toxins I’m exposed to, but it does require the use of new materials to manufacture something. When I clear out the PVC, I’m not exactly taking steps to fight climate change. For February I’m changing that by putting my driving habits under the magnifying glass. I want to reduce the number of trips I take in my car this month.

I have my own car, which I purchased new in 2000 after graduating from university. It’s a Honda Civic, and at 11.5 years old it’s clocked less than 95,000 kilometers, or 60,000 miles. In recent years, as a work-at-home mom, I drive it even less. My car currently clocks about 5000 kilometers, or 3100 miles, each year. Most of my trips are short – driving Jacob to or from daycare, running errands, going grocery shopping or heading to the farmers’ market. Sometimes I’m not even entirely sure I need my own car, given how little I drive. But since my husband takes his car to work every day, having a car of my own really is a huge convenience thing for me. I’m not going grocery shopping via public transit with two kids in tow when I have an easy alternative, you know?

Given how little I drive, trying to reduce the number of kilometers I travel in a month feels like a tall order. Instead, I decided to target the number of trips I take. To give myself a baseline, I kept track of every trip I took in my car in January, and the grand total was 36, or 1.16 per day. I’d like to get that number down to less than one trip a day, on average. A 20% reduction would take me to 0.93 trips per day, or 27 trips during the month of February.

Steps to Reduce my Car Trips

I plan to reduce the number of car trips I take in three ways:

1. Combine trips whenever possible. Instead of heading to the bank on one trip, and to the store on another trip, I’d like to plan it so that a single outing takes me to two, three or even four places. This should mean less driving, as I won’t be heading home and back out between each errand.
2. Run less errands. Do I really need to check my mailbox twice a week? Probably not – I bet once would suffice. Can I make do without rice for 48 hours, until my next planned grocery shopping day? I bet I can. If I can cut back on the number of stops I’m making, I’ll spend less time driving.
3. Get out and walk. I already walk Hannah to school and home each day, but I bet there are more outings that I could complete on foot. For instance, that mailbox I don’t need to visit so much? It’s within walking distance. I have three days a week when both kids are in school, and heading out for a walk would probably be good for me, and I’d reduce my carbon footprint in the process.

Really, the best way to reduce my carbon footprint would be to get rid of my car altogether. Maybe using it less will be a step on the path to becoming a one-car family, as I become less dependent on motorized transportation. Or maybe it will just reduce my overall carbon footprint. Either way, it feels like a worthwhile goal.

Do you take any steps to limit the amount of driving you do? I’d love to hear your tips, if you have any!

A few weeks ago I managed to talk Suzanne into sitting down for an interview with me. Her business is really unique, partly because it’s one of very few shops devoted specifically to green party supplies, but also because she creates many of the products she carries herself. She comes up with the idea, and then contracts local vendors to make them for her. Her banners, for instance, are her design, and they’re hand sewn by a mom. Here’s the one we got for Hannah’s birthday last year:

During our interview, Suzanne and I talked about what makes her business special. We also talked about what drives her as a small business owner, what inspires her, how she involves her kids in what she does, and what her favourite products are. She’s really devoted to making sure that the products she carries are sustainable, safe and supportive of her local community. So often, at the end of a celebration you’re packing garbage bags full of plastic cups and disposable decorations. Suzanne is dedicated to changing that, so that parties don’t have to take a big toll on the planet.

I had a great time talking to Suzanne. It was especially great for me, because my own daughter’s birthday is coming up just a couple of weeks from now. I’m spending lots of time thinking decorations and party favours at the moment. If there’s a party in your future, or if you want some greener alternatives for seasonal celebrations like Valentine’s Day, you’ll want to hear what Suzanne has to say. Listen to our conversation here:

I’m working on a podcast for next week – you’ll have to stay tuned to see what happens, and what parenting topic I end up covering. In the meantime, subscribe to the Strocel.com podcast in iTunes, and you won’t miss a minute!

Have you ever had a conversation with a complete stranger that helped you realize your life purpose? This happened to me.

Four months ago, I had the greatest conversation with a practicing counsellor from Los Angeles. For two hours, we talked about the emotional consequences of our jobs.

This lady counsels troubled children. All of them grew up in neglected and abusive environments. She finds it emotionally challenging to counsel them because most of their stories break her heart.

Since ‘the system’ only allows her to help the children until they improve in school, usually a few months, she doesn’t have enough time to help them work through the issues and move on with their lives. She knows most of them will eventually join gangs, use drugs to cope, or use their sexuality to find acceptance.

This counsellor reminded me that we humans are social beings. One of our basic needs is to want to be connected with other people. The connection with the ones who created us (mother and father) is the primary connection we seek. When this basic need isn’t satisfied, we will seek it else where, even if it’s self destructive to our being.

I thought about this afterwards. A lot.

During our conversation, I felt so lucky. Lucky that I was born into a family that cared about me. Lucky that I chose a profession that allows me to witness and feel love in its most elemental form. That conversation made me realize how important my job is. I provide mothers and each of their children the experience of feeling loved and being loved. I create a space for them to connect with their hearts and strengthen their relationship.

During a photography session, I feel the love the mother has for her child. I feel her joy, her pride, and their shared happiness. I see truth in them and they move me. Every mother and child I work with, whether the child is young or grown, inspires me to be a better mother, and a better daughter.

My conversation with the counsellor also made me realize how important my job is as a mother. I want the best for my children and I want them to live meaningful and purposeful lives. My duty is to love, nurture and guide them. My job is to help give them opportunities to find their strengths to realize their full potential. I want my children to live the life I envisioned for them because when they do, they will change the world.

This is my dream for my daughter. This is also my dream for all children and so this is my promise:

I will provide mothers with experiences, tools and resources to inspire us to love, nurture and guide our children to live meaningful and purposeful lives.

Photography is one of the tools to get to this bigger place.

With photography, I document the love between a mother and each of her children. I provide children doors back to the memories and the emotions of the relationship they have with their mother. These children will grow up knowing why they are loved, why their mother is proud of them and what dreams are bestowed upon them. I believe this is food for their souls.

I know what I’m doing is changing my world. It is also changing the world of the people I touch.

Amy Lee is the founder of The Connection We Share. She is in the process of building a blog to inspire mothers to raise children who will change the world. In the mean time, you can visit her Facebook page for her photography work. Amy has an 18 month daughter, Elle. She is proud of her daughter for being a fearless explorer. Her favourite memory with her daughter is hanging out in their backyard picking strawberries and smelling flowers.

So, without further ado, here are some things that I learned in January.

January Monthly Review

1. I found out just what it takes to spur me to join a political party after listening to Natural Resources Minister Joe Oliver on CBC Radio. I was so incensed with his comments and his characterization of environmental groups that I came home and purchased a three year membership in the Green Party. He lost me when he said that it’s okay for foreign oil companies to exert influence in Canada, but it’s not okay for foreign environmental groups to participate in the review process. I disagree. Go ahead, Mr. Oliver, call me a radical.

2. I learned that while I have a lot of tea, I can’t hold a candle to many hardcore collectors.

3. I placed – and received – my very first order from a seed catalogue, and I felt a huge gardening thrill. In addition to the old standbys, this year I’ll be trying to grow quinoa and amaranth.

4. I played hockey for the first time, and learned that stick-handling is not my forte, but I can hold my own on skates.

5. I did my first-ever multi-interviewee podcast, and had a blast. Everyone was fabulous, but I got a special thrill calling up Allison on the phone.

6. I learned that after two-and-a-bit weeks of Christmas break, a bored six-year-old will be begging to go back to school.

7. I found my mission in life … at least for right now. It’s to help other moms live happier, more fulfilled lives.

8. I had my first-ever facial courtesy of a free coupon, and it was heavenly. I highly recommend it.

9. I spent a whole bunch of money on a fully-packed yoga bag at a fundraiser the Lunapads ladies threw to raise money for Shanti Uganda, mostly because the mat was PVC-free and I was on a mission to rid my home of PVC this month. In retrospect, I could have gotten a PVC-free mat much more cheaply, but I wouldn’t have had the satisfaction of supporting a good cause, so there’s that.

10. I watched my three-year-old son Jacob blossom as a performer. I’ve been serenaded during dinner almost every evening for the past few weeks, which is lovely. But word to the wise: don’t interrupt him unless you enjoy extreme sadness.

What did you learn in January? Please share! And read some of these fabulous monthly review posts to see what other people learned in January, or add your own:

In spite of the January chill, Hannah is wearing a short skirt and a T-shirt. As she tries to master the finer points of a dance that’s as old as her great grandmother, she gets a look of intense concentration on her face. Watching her legs and hands and knees, I’m struck by her intense thin-ness. Her little baby rolls are long gone, and in their place is this girl who’s all knees and elbows. Her physique right now is like many other seven-year-olds – thin lines and sharp corners, which never really stop moving, not even when she’s asleep. She’s not big, but she packs a lot of energy in her small frame.

Hannah was skinny when she was born, too. Even skinnier than most newborns, in fact, because as a preemie she didn’t have the time to pack on the body fat that full-term babies do. As a wee babe her smallness conveyed fragility. Now it conveys something else entirely. I can see her muscles working as she dances with her father, and in my eyes she is mighty. She owns her power, and fully inhabits her body, stretching it as far as it can go. Maybe that’s why she’s so skinny – all that stretching did it. As she reaches higher, her body draws in on itself like an elastic band.

Right now, today, Hannah still loves her body. She tells me about her strength and her speed. She talks about how her belly gets bigger after she eats a big meal, and she tells me that she can fit into her brother’s pants because she’s a “skinny mini”. She describes her body’s bigness and smallness without any trace of malice towards her physical self. She sticks out her gut and says, “Look how fat I can make myself!” and laughs. She doesn’t have any self-esteem issues, and she hasn’t yet learned the lesson of female adolescence that says you should only ever make yourself skinnier, never the other way around.

How long can this last? I don’t know, and truthfully, I don’t really want to know. I love the way that Hannah revels in her body, and all that it can do. I love the way that she brags when her weight on the bathroom scale goes up. I love that she can play around with ideas like big and small, fat and thin, tall and short, and never once cast herself in a negative light. I don’t want this to end, but it’s not in my control.

A 1986 study from the University of California found that 80% of fourth grade girls were on a diet. Given our current preoccupation with childhood obesity and the increasing media bombardment not just from TV but from computers and smart phones and tablets, there’s no reason to think this number has changed. We haven’t become much more enlightened and accepting in the past 25 years. I know that it’s only a matter of time before Hannah will come face-to-face with some of the issues around body image and self-esteem that every girl encounters. I will do my best to help her through, but I’m not even really sure how. How do I help my daughter come out with as few scars as possible?

Today, this is all still in the future. Today, I watch my little girl learn to dance from her father. I watch her smile and move her legs in time to music only she can hear. And I send a silent request to God and the Universe and anyone who’s listening that she won’t forget the truth that she knows today: her body is strong, and perfect, and hers. Skinny (or not-so-skinny) legs and all.

How do you talk to your kids about body image? If you have any resources to suggest, I’m all ears!

I have been a soccer mom, but so far I have not been a hockey mom. My daughter Hannah prefers figure skates to hockey skates, and at three years old my son Jacob can more or less hold his own on the ice, but his sport of choice is basketball. Plus, he’s too little for 5:00am practices. Thank heavens.

Recently, however, my friend Suzanne got in touch with me and asked if I wanted to take part in some hockey sessions for moms. Suzanne is a hockey mom, but like me she’d never worn hockey skates before. While hockey is Canada’s national winter sport, when I was growing up girls just didn’t play. It wasn’t so much that we were excluded, as it just never came up. Plus I’ve lived my whole life in rainy Vancouver, so it’s not like there were neighbourhood pick-up games on the local pond. I decided that it would be fun to try, though, so I signed on. Call me a hockey mom … with two kids at home who weren’t invited.

Suzanne arranged two training sessions with Phil, a local hockey coach. When I arrived at the rink on Saturday night, I found myself in a room with 11 other ladies, all of varying abilities. Some of us were total beginners, some had decades of experience, and some had played a little here and there. I had one of Jon’s old jerseys (he played from the time he was five until he graduated from high school) and a whole lot of nerves. The other ladies helped me put my borrowed gear on, and when I was all dressed I have to say that I certainly looked the part.

How was it? A lot of fun, actually. For my first time on hockey skates, I think I did pretty well. I’d always heard they were easier to skate in than figure skates, and having worn both I’d say that’s true. I got the hang of stopping reasonably quickly, and that was good. But once I had to control a puck, I found out that hockey is harder than it looks. I did manage to shoot it into an empty net on my third try, though, and I only fell twice all evening. All in all, I’d call it a success. By the time it was over I felt sweaty, exhilarated, and pretty freaking proud of myself.

All of us hockey moms are having another practice session with Phil, and I’m excited to see how that goes. I’m not sure I’ll be joining a team – hockey gear is expensive – but now that I’ve finally had a chance to play around with hockey, I can definitely see the appeal. It made me think that instead of shuffling my kids from activity to activity, I should get out and play more myself. Who said that children are the only ones who get to have any fun?

PS – Every month I do a monthly review of things I learned. Some are serious, some are funny, and all are hard-won. I will be running my January review on Wednesday, February 1. I’d love it if you played along. Write a post on or before February 1 and come back here to include it in my link-up!

Stephanie

• Stephanie of Adventures in Babywearing – Stephanie has four children. Her youngest, Ivy, is just one month younger than my son Jacob. While she hasn’t completely shut the door on the possibility of having more kids in the future, for the time being she believes that she’s “done”.
• Allison the Bibliomama – Like me, Allison has two kids, one boy and one girl. Like me, Allison still feels babylust. But with her younger child about to turn nine, she’s decided that she won’t be fulfilling that urge. Allison’s situation is closest to mine, and so I really wanted to hear her thoughts.


Allison

• Amanda, a.k.a. pomomama – Amanda has one child, and feels emphatically done. Her husband has had a vasectomy, and any babylust is gone. I remember feeling quite done when my own first child was a toddler with an extremely healthy set of lungs, but things changed for me. They didn’t for Amanda, and she’s enjoying having just one older child.

Before I share the podcast, I’d like to acknowledge something. I know not every family comes about as the result of a heterosexual couple conceiving without assistance. I also know not every pregnancy is planned. Deciding to conceive a child, or deciding not to conceive a child, is no guarantee of any outcome. However, for the purposes of this podcast, I decided to focus on people who were making decisions around family size, knowing that they likely could become pregnant with relative ease if they chose to. Since I’m trying to make a decision based on the assumption that if I wanted to get pregnant I could, it seemed most fair to talk to people in a similar situation.

Amanda

I had a really good time speaking with Stephanie, Allison and Amanda. It was a fun change for me to include multiple interviews in a single podcast, and I loved gathering all the different perspective. While I didn’t have any startling revelations about my own family size as I spoke with these other moms, it was good to hear how they made their own decisions. If you’ve ever wrestled with the question of whether or not to have another baby, or you just want to hear how other people reached their own conclusions, I think you’ll enjoy this one. Listen here:

Next week on the podcast I’ll be talking to Suzanne Bertani of Green Planet Parties. We’ll be talking about choosing sustainable, safe products, making environmentally-friendly choices, and what inspires her as a small business owner. Suzanne has a really great energy, and I enjoyed speaking with her immensely. Subscribe to the Strocel.com podcast in iTunes, and you won’t miss a minute!

Last week, I told you that I’d discovered my mission in life – or at least my mission in life right now. And here it is:

My mission in life is to help other mothers live happier, more fulfilled lives.

This really resonates with me because it takes a lot of things that I am doing already, like my volunteer work, my job with VancouverMom.ca, my writing here at Strocel.com, my book dream and the online tools I create for Crafting my Life, and unifies them with a single statement. In many different ways, big and small, paid and unpaid, I am helping other moms live happier, more fulfilled lives. What could be better? Nothing, that’s what.

I don’t think that everyone needs a mission they can easily define in a single sentence. You can do amazing, meaningful and important things without one. But speaking purely for myself, I’ve found having that sentence helpful. It’s brought me greater clarity, and helped me set better priorities and goals. Since I’m a planner at heart, I really groove on this renewed sense of purpose, and I’m making all kinds of plans. But if I’m going to turn those plans into action, I need to free up some space, which means I need to let go of the stuff that isn’t working for me.

There are two things about letting go that I do not enjoy:

1. Letting go is emotionally difficult.
2. Letting go takes time and effort.

Image credit – Andrew Mitchell on Flickr

There are things in my life that aren’t really working for me, and that don’t help me further my mission, and I can identify them. But I’m invested in them all the same. In some cases, I’ve agreed to do something for someone else, and I don’t want to leave them in the lurch. In other cases, in order to let go of a task I need to put in some work to shut it down or prepare it for hand-off, and it’s hard to find time to do that. On top of that, there are my dragons who start telling me stories about how if I let go of something it will mean I’m a big quitter.

Invigorated by my mission, I’m ignoring my dragons, putting in the work to get things organized and learning how to gracefully step out of commitments that are getting in the way of the work I should be doing. The work I need to be doing. It’s isn’t easy, though, and as I face down a task I need to finish before I can let go, I have to force myself to swallow that frog. Who wants to spend a whole bunch of time working on something that doesn’t further your purpose, when you could be doing something that you enjoy? No one. But sometimes you need to put in a little bit of effort now to save work in the long run, so I’m doing it and having faith that it will pay off.

There is an upside to the hard-ness of letting go, and it’s the feeling of relief. When I hand off something that’s been weighing me down, I feel a bit of a rush. Doing something that isn’t working for you takes up a lot of energy. Letting go of it frees up all that energy for something more fulfilling and purposeful. With every little thing I let go, my hope is renewed. I can see that there is a light on the horizon, and that while it isn’t easy, it is worthwhile.

I have spent a lot of my life proving my worth (mostly to myself) by being useful. The problem is that I didn’t consider what was useful for myself, I mostly considered what was useful for others. Now I see that if I really want to be helpful, I should take on tasks that help me further my own mission. This way everyone wins, because I’m giving my best self and doing my best work, and I feel a sense of purpose. So I persist in this beginning phase, shedding my old skin, and enduring the discomfort it brings. It lets me know that there is a brighter day ahead.

Do you find it easy to let go of things that aren’t working for you, or do you struggle with the hard-ness of it? I’d love to hear your thoughts on how you clear out space to pursue a greater sense of purpose and authenticity.