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Guest Post: How to Be an Earth-Friendly Summer Camper

Photo by goobiebilly via Flickr (CC)

We’re going camping in a few weeks. When I tell my friends, most of them gasp and recoil in horror. “You are going camping? You? Oh, ha ha, I get it, you’re going ‘camping’. As in … no, I don’t get it. What are you really doing?”

But seriously. I really am, with my husband and three-year-old (we’re leaving our tiara-toting two-year-old with Nana and Papa this year), as well as one of my best friends and her family.

My job for this camping trip, other than not packing too much and staying out of the way and not shrieking over bugs and other wildlife, is to take care of making this outing as eco-friendly as possible. (Part of me suspects they’re just giving me busywork, but won’t they be surprised when I start laying down the law, huh?) Here’s our eco-friendly camping plan:

Waste: Everything’s going in reusable containers, so we don’t have endless, meat-juice laced packaging to throw out each night. We’ll clean and store the containers to reuse again in a sealed container. We’re not going to burn our trash, since this pollutes the air. We have biodegradable bags that we’re going to raise up into the trees at night, which is apparently a good tip for keeping bears at bay. Bears. Heaven help me. (Cue shriek.)

Fires: We’re going to bring our own wood rather than using wood and sticks that we find on the ground—apparently this can mess with the ecosystem. And we’re never going to cut branches from live trees. (Also, obviously, we’re never going to leave our fire unattended or neglect to put it out properly at night.)

Washing Up: I’m bringing my arsenal of biodegradable, natural, sulfate- and preservative-free personal care products, and will share them with everyone. The most important one: Burt’s Bees All-in-One Wash, which we’ll use for almost everything. Also, and this might be the toughest sell, but I’m going to try: we’re not going to spit our toothpaste into the ground. Each person gets a jar, and they have to spit into that. At the end of the camping trip, what they do with their jar is their business. I’m also bringing the most gentle dish soap I can find, and we’ll wash with water only when possible. We’re getting back to basics, after all.

Eco-system Respect: We’ll ascribe to this rule: leave only (very small and gentle) footprints, take only memories. We’re not going to feed the wildlife, but will simply observe them (while trying not to shriek too much). We won’t leave any trash behind, and we won’t cause any damage to the landscape we’re lucky enough to inhabit for a few days. We’ll be communing with mother earth, not damaging her.

Is it wrong that I still wish I could be communing with the Hilton instead? Wish me luck!

Marissa Stapley of Saving the World in Sensible Shoes

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Guest Post: Yes, Sensible World-Saving Shoes Can Be Cute, Too

The coveted TOMS Yellow Calypso Canvas Wedge!

It’s no secret that I don’t own any sensible shoes. I actually thought I did at one point, but at a playdate last week, my friend giggled at my little red wedge-heeled sandals and said, “Those aren’t sensible. These are sensible.” Then she stuck out her foot and showed me her hiking boots, which were tucked over her super cool army pants. A few minutes later, her son lost his boomerang on the roof of a nearby pavilion, and she basically scaled the thing to get it down. (It looked pretty awesome with the army pants and all, like we were suddenly in a spy movie.)

Had it been my child’s boomerang, it would still be on that roof. Does that mean I’m going to wear hiking boots to the park next time? Probably not. Unless they start making them in a stiletto. (Do they?) But the truth is, there’s more to a sensible shoe than just style. Truly great shoes are shoes that look good and feel good, in more ways than one. Here are my favourites:

El Natura Lista

The pair of El Natura Listas I own are the aforementioned red wedge heels. (I got them at Trove in Toronto.) They’re (reasonably) comfortable and (exceptionally) cute, and they’re constructed by a company that ascribes to some pretty strict codes of both eco and social responsibility.

TOMS

The TOMS slogan is “One for One”, and what that means is that for every pair of sustainably constructed shoes you buy from them, they will purchase one pair of shoes for a child in need. Talk about win-win! I’m coveting a pair of the Calypso Canvas Wedges in yellow. And although I abhor flats, I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist a pair of the Vegan Wrap Boots (in red, natch) for much longer. Tiny TOMS shoes for kids are also available.

Simple Shoes

They make shoes for the whole family, starting at infants. (And they also make bags. Just saying. I’m a sucker for a cute bag, and the Nordic Knit is calling out to me. What it’s saying is, “You need a weekend purse!” I wholeheartedly agree.) Simple Shoes is committed to making products that are completely sustainable, and they rate their shoe’s eco-friendliness on a “Green Toe” rating system of “good, better, and best”. It’s completely transparent, and you always know what you’re getting. I’m in the market for a new pair of running shoes, and the Carousel Grommets (they come in suede or leopard print) have a bow instead of laces. Sign me up!

Marissa Stapley of Saving the World in Sensible Shoes

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Guest Post: Helping My Kids Heed the Ways of the Great Suzuke

David Suzuki by environmentnorth via Flickr (CC)

Remember those David Suzuki “You Have the Power” campaign ads featuring a group of kids sitting around in a circle complaining to the Great Suzuke himself (that’s what I call him; he’s kind of my idol) about their folks’ non eco-friendly ways? (Something along the lines of, Child: “David, my parents don’t even use fluorescent lights.” Suzuke: Gasp.)

Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’m raising kids who are going to be exactly like the kids in that commercial. (Ooh, maybe one day I’ll open the tree house door and the Great Suzuke will be sitting there, chatting!)  Either way, it’s fine with me. They can lecture me all they want if I ever fall off the eco-friendly wagon, and even if I don’t.  (As long as they don’t tell me I’m not allowed to buy any more shoes.) Frankly, I’m just happy my three-year-old son is actually listening to me. He conscientiously turns off lights and tells anyone who will listen he doesn’t want to “waste energy”. Also, we have a time limit on sprinkler use and other water-related activities because (picture this said in the most sanctimonious three-year-old way possible) “Water is precious.” Once a week, we even don our special Garbage Gloves and pick up plastic debris we find on our street, and recycle it. It’s turned into the Best Game Ever as far as my little ones are concerned. Who needs toys and games when your mom lets you touch gross garbage while wearing special gear? One day, I’ll tell them about the floating piles of plastic debris in both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, but I’ll probably wait ‘til they’re older so as not to give them nightmares.

Today, environmental education has become a part of almost every curriculum, and I find this thrilling. My hope is that to the next generation, environmental stewardship will be second nature, and conservation a constant quest. But I don’t feel ready to pass the torch to my kids just yet (partly because they’re two and three respectively, and likely not quite prepared to save the world on their own.). I think as parents it’s important for us to set a good example— es, children do learn a great deal at school, but they learn the most important life lessons from the people they look up to most: their parents. (Yes, they do look up to you. Even when they’re talking back.) So it actually does matter if you make the switch to incandescent lights and explain why, or start shopping in bulk when possible to reduce unnecessary packaging and talk about it, or have discussions about endangered species and why preserving their existence is important. We’re handing a world down to our babies, and frankly, we’ve left it in pretty sorry shape. I think we should show our children how committed we are to turning things around for their future by teaching environmental education at home, too.

Long live the Great Suzuke!

—Marissa Stapley of Saving the World (In Sensible Shoes)

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Guest Post: Making the Most of the Magical Organic Deliveries Box

Image by firepile, via Flickr (CC)

As a mother, I spend a lot of time thinking about food. Have the kids eaten enough, can they survive on grilled cheese alone, how can I get them to eat more vegetables without resorting to threats, bribery and running into the other room so I can bang my head against the wall without anyone seeing? When I think about food, I also consider the role it plays not only in keeping my family healthy, but also in keeping our planet healthy. In my world, an apple is no longer just an apple. And while I’m not completely convinced organic is the answer to everything (last year, Margaret Wente wrote an interesting article for The Globe & Mail about the adverse effects the organic movement can have on the planet) my focus on keeping my children well means it doesn’t matter to me at the moment whether there are actually more vitamins in an organic apple. It does matter to me, when my son eats about ten of them a day because he’s channeling Anthony from The Wiggles, that said apple hasn’t been irradiated and laced with pesticides that have breached the skin and can’t be washed away.

Recently, I signed up for a weekly delivery of organic fruit and vegetables. Perhaps I could make it into a fun game designed to encourage the kids to appreciate produce, I thought. “What’s in the Magic Box this week? Ooooh, local organic purple kale! Radishes! Leeks!” At first, I tried my best to ignore the online “customize” option provided by Mama Earth Organics.  It only cost an extra two dollars, and meant I could choose my own produce rather than subsisting on mostly local options, which I knew would normally be fine, but would become somewhat arduous in the root vegetable heavy dead of winter. The point of this, though, I told myself—other than saving me a trip to the market with my adorable but slightly destructive brood— is to reduce my carbon footprint by eating as close to home as possible. So we are doing this. Customization is for the weak!

This lasted about a month. The problem of actually getting my kids to eat things like purple kale (“Why are we eating the leaves from the trees?” my son wailed) and radishes (my daughter actually threw up) broke me. However, even when I’m subbing items online, I try to go for the local option when I can. And I include at least one item that’s a little different, just to show my kids that there’s a world of fruit and vegetables out there, and even if you won’t eat them, daddy will, because that’s what makes him so big and strong.  (“Mmm, collard greens,” my husband says gamely, sliding them under his napkin when the kids aren’t looking. “Why not just broccoli?” He’ll ask me later. “This box is breaking my spirit.”)

All fear of the unknown aside, when the box comes, we talk about how all the food in there doesn’t just magically appear. There are farmers involved, and sunshine, and rain, and all the things the earth provides that we need to be grateful for, daily. “I’m grateful for these tree leaves,” my son said, holding up some red kale a few weeks ago. “But I’m more grateful for cookies.”

If he were any other way, he wouldn’t be a normal kid—and that’s important, too.

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Our Next Guest Blogger: Marissa Stapley is Saving the World (in Sensible Shoes)

Author Marissa Stapley

We’re excited to have Marissa Stapley join us as a guest blogger this week!

Marissa is a freelance writer, editor and author (although her three-year-old thinks she’s a cleaning lady). She writes about fashion, beauty, wellness and green living. Her first novel, Saving the World (in Sensible Shoes), is contemporary women’s fiction with a sustainable twist, and will be published next spring. She lives in Toronto with her husband, two children, and nary a sensible shoe. For updates, visit http://www.marissastapley.com/.

This week, she’ll be sharing her adventures in green living, including organic eating and tips on how to raise eco-conscious kids!

Check back this afternoon for Marissa’s first post!

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Guest Post: Five Blog Topics My Husband Wanted To Write

My husband’s birthday was yesterday. In honour of him turning 47, I invited my mom to visit. He picked her up yesterday at the airport while I was at work. Thankfully, they get along splendidly, sharing jokes, most of which are not at my expense.

If I Could Bake, I’d Make Him This Cake. Photo Courtesy Of DeepBluC Via Flickr (CC)

I don’t talk about my husband much on my blog. When I started posting, I asked him how big of a role he wanted to play. “Not big” was his response. Still, he’s evident in many a post. And he’s certainly evident in my life.

The man cooked every meal for four weeks while I recovered from pneumonia. He is the king of having good food on the table in under thirty minutes. Perhaps he’s too good at it. Last week, on a Mother’s Day note, Vivian wrote, “My mom is the only one who can cook.” He laughed at the irony. Our kids call him Joker Man.

He is legendary—even amongst those he barely know—for his sense of humour.

In fact, when I was ill, he offered to write some posts for me. Here are the five topics my husband proposed to author:

1. Smiling and Nodding:  The Successful Husband’s Fastball and Slider

2. Farting as a Sign of Relationship Contentment

3. Da Man is Da Head but Da Woman is Da Neck

4. “Honey! The Kids are Touching Bums in the Bathtub”: Delegate Your Way to Serenity

5. Failed Compliments: How Telling Your Wife She Is the 3rd Funniest Woman You’ve Ever Met Is a Bad Idea

So, there’s a little piece of him.

Happy Birthday, dear husband. Thanks for making me laugh. And for picking up my mom.

And, no, I’m not going to let you guest post.

Ironic Mom (aka Leanne)

For a chance to win a subscription to Canadian Family magazine, leave a comment on Leanne’s blog, Ironic Mom. One subscription will be given away each day this week.

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Guest Post: How Many Shoes Does A Child Possibly Need?

Photo Courtesy Of Zak Greant Via Flickr (CC)

Growing up on a grain farm in the 1970s, I had three footwear options: boots for winter and spring, shoes for church and runners. If these didn’t cut it, going shoeless worked. At my prime, I could run barefoot across our gravel yard the size of a football field. I was a prairie-kid version of a fire walker. And if bare feet were good enough for Fred Flintstone to power a car, then they’ve got to be good enough for a backyard.

Fast forward thirty years to the suburbs and you’ll find my kids, each with their own Imelda Marcos collection. Each twin has: runners for school, runners for outside, cleats for soccer, dress sandals, Crocs, flip flops, winter boots, rubber boots, dress shoes and slippers. They could go a week without wearing the same pair twice.

The choice baffles even them. William delights in wearing his rubber boots after it’s snowed a foot. Vivian prefers to put on flip flops when she’s wearing tights.

How did this excess happen? Likely with the same philosophy that gave my kids twenty pairs of pants each, 5,000 pieces of Lego and a zoo-sized menagerie of stuffed animals.

No wonder we need shoe racks and closet organizers, two items I never had growing up.

Humans need a shoe rule: one pair per year of age, maxing out once you’re a teenager. Babies get one pair, 12-year-olds can have a dozen. It’s a shoe moratorium, saving ourselves from consumer excess.

Of course, that would necessitate reducing my own footprint.

Ironic Mom (aka Leanne)

For a chance to win a subscription to Canadian Family magazine, leave a comment on Leanne’s blog, Ironic Mom. One subscription will be given away each day this week.

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Guest Post: Soccer À La Five-Year-Olds

Little Cleats, Big Action

Coach D scanned the sidelines, weighing his options. He could see Number 5 taking off her cleats, Number 11 sobbing in his mom’s lap and Number 7 picking some forgotten dandelions. He had little choice but to approach my daughter, who was panting like a Siberian Husky on a hot July day.

“Viv, can you go on again?” he asked.

Still guzzling water, Vivian managed a nod and tossed the bottle to the ground. In a seemingly-practiced Mia Hamm move, she yanked up her socks and jogged onto the field.

“Ball in,” said the ref. And then they were at it: six Blue Whales battling six Red Dragons. Like the team names imply, the contest was legendary in its mythology, at least in the eyes of five-year-olds. They swarmed the soccer ball, following it like it was the Holy Grail.

Coaches ran alongside the pack, Blackfoot tribesmen herding bison toward a buffalo jump. It was a mash of hot-dog sized cleats. In this league, shin guards were a requirement for a reason. The kids kicked with wild abandon. Feet were everywhere.

Every now and again, one of the Lilliputians kicked the ball free of the masses and managed to head in the right direction.

This time, it was Vivian.

She didn’t seek a coach’s instruction. She didn’t look for a wave from her father. She didn’t as much glance to the sidelines to see her twin brother sobbing in his mother’s lap. She had eyes for the ball and the goal. She dodged opponents and her own teammates, controlling the ball with enviable precision.

The Blue Whales’ goalie stepped up, surprisingly aware that an enemy had invaded his territory. Vivian began the final part of her assault, full throttle toward the goal, the white number nine on her jersey a blur. When she was metres from the net, she let loose a perfectly timed kick. The ball sailed off her instep, past the goalie and over the line. It was Vivian’s first goal.

From the sidelines, her twin brother, William, witnessed the entire highlight reel. Moments after the ball sailed into the net, he swallowed his sobs, sprinted onto the field and embraced his sister. The team followed. So did the coaches.

The only time these five-year-olds ran faster was when the referee said, “Snack time.”

Ironic Mom (aka Leanne)

For a chance to win a subscription to Canadian Family magazine, leave a comment on Leanne’s blog, Ironic Mom. One subscription will be given away each day this week.

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Guest Post: Best Salon For Kids’ Haircuts In Toronto

Haircuts For Kids, Not Melon Heads

For the last two-and-a-half years, I’ve put off taking my daughter, Isla, for her first haircut.  Born with a full-on Clooney Caesar, I’ve instead allowed it to flourish into a wavy mane far too abundant for a child her age. I suspected I would eventually drag her to one of those places like Melonhead, where she would perch in a car or airplane, distracted by a Dora DVD. But before I could resign myself to that, a better option presented itself: Buzzcuts and Ponytails ($30 a cut), the kids-only Sundays at Toronto’s swishy Hair on the Avenue. Also on offer? Blowouts for mommies  ($29).

To make the salon tot-friendly, the flat screen at reception plays cartoons, tiny robes (!) and cups of hot chocolate are provided, and there’s a mini DVD player and jar of candy at each cutting station.

While the plan for a trim didn’t exactly shake down as hoped—she flat-out refused the robe, requested a programming change on the portable TV, and proceeded to shriek and flail when a towel was placed around her neck—it was the acquisition of a lollipop (spied in the hands of the much more amenable five-year-old Cleo) and the patience of stylist Tara Lorenzoni that finally accomplished the goal.

Ah, bribery. There’s nothing it can’t achieve.

Haircuts, $30, Buzzcuts and Ponytails at Hair on the Avenue, 416-922-0112.

—Lesa Hannah, beauty editor of FASHION magazine

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Guest Post: Why I Despise Kids’ Birthday Parties

When I accepted the job of mother, I didn’t read Event Planner in the job description. Like most roles, it was thrust upon me. I managed to avoid it for the first few years, but once my twins were school-age, the pressure mounted.

Spring Cupcakes: Not How I Want To Spend My Spare Time (Photo courtesy of CleverCupcakes via Flickr)

I despise kids’ birthday parties for many reasons:

1 Themes Okay, why do we need to have themes? What is wrong with the theme of fun? Why do we need to buy balloons, cakes, streamers and hats that all have Barbie or Transformers on them? And why do themes always seem to support gender stereotypes?
2 Loot Bags I’m pretty sure loot bags resulted from the machinations of some overly zealous marketing team at a dollar store. My kids don’t need any more cheap plastic crap that’s been assembled by some exploited worker in the developing world. Plus, possibly more importantly, whatever happened to the notion that it’s sometimes good to give without getting anything in return?
3 Presents Even if it’s not the cheap plastic crap mentioned above, my kids have enough stuff. The problem with parties that invite the whole class is that the birthday kid gets twenty gifts. No one needs twenty gifts.
4 Cost Very few parties my twins have attended are held at the birthday kid’s home. And, of those that are, many hire a company to organize the fun. If you have a spare few hundred dollars, why not donate it? My kids’ therapy fund is open to financial contributions.

What’s wrong with inviting a cousin or friend over and letting the kids make their own fun without adult interference? What’s wrong with baking great-grandma’s cake recipe, the one in the shape of a…cake?

Or, to paraphrase my children, what’s wrong with me that I don’t want to throw them a birthday party?

Ironic Mom (aka Leanne)

For a chance to win a subscription to Canadian Family magazine, leave a comment on Leanne’s blog, Ironic Mom. One subscription will be given away each day this week.

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