This week two birth stories made the news in my corner of the sports world. The reaction to them shows we still have a long way to go in gender equality.
Jérémy Doku, a member of the Belgian soccer team playing in the men’s World Cup, returned to Belgium from the USA on Sunday to be with his wife for the birth of their first child. It meant he missed the game against Iran that day. Many commenters were not kind, to put it mildly. One French commentator even called it “disgusting”.
Doku’s wife gave birth on Monday and both she and the baby are reportedly doing well. Doku is scheduled to be back with the team in time for Friday’s game
Meanwhile, Blayne Turnbull, captain of the PWHL Toronto Sceptres, announced she is expecting a baby in December. Reaction from fans has ranged from “amazing” to “I wonder how maternity leave works in the PWHL?”
Blayre Turnbull and her husband with a stuffed bunny sit in a grassy area with trees in the background. Her husband is wearing a cap that says “Dad” and she is holding a picture of an ultrasound. Image is taken from her Instagram page.
For the record, the PWHL Collective Bargaining agreement says that “the League must continue a Benefits Eligible Player’s base Salary and all other benefits in the event of pregnancy until the earlier of such time as the Player is cleared to return to play by both the Player’s medical doctor and a Team physician or the end of the League Season in which pregnancy-related disability commences.” I’m not thrilled with calling it a disability, but otherwise it’s not a bad deal.
Maybe part of the reaction reflects a slightly older tradition in Canada where women athletes face less discrimination if they choose to have families while competing. Since 2024, athletes funded by Sport Canada no longer have to use their precious injury card for pregnancy. Previously, it would have left them extremely vulnerable should they have an actual injury.
Sure, it’s elite athletes and their reality is different. But it is still very sad to see how toxic masculinity can be cruel to an expectant dad.
Trips to see family are, for me, a time when I speed up rather than slow down. I have a lot of relatives I want to see and do things with and for. These relatives live as far as three hours away from my home base, which is my sister’s house. And at this point in family life and history, a bunch of my relatives are of an age where a) I come to them rather than them coming to me; and b) our visits include/consist of my helping them with tasks.
None of this is a problem. It’s life, and I am privileged to be able to travel and help and enjoy their company. Plus, I have lately gotten a fair amount of family swag, the results of relatives downsizing and cleaning out (no one in my family would consider calling this “death cleaning”, even though I’ve mentioned the lovely book that Samantha read and blogged about here). I am, in the interests of paying attention to my own management of stuff, working on the “one in/one out” method, which is going more or less well.
So, what kinds of cross-training have I been doing? Here’s a short list.
Home organizing/clearing out: my mother’s house is a constant battle zone for clutter. She is that person who keeps salad dressing jars and lids “just in case”. Sigh. Every time we visit, we go through drawers and cabinets to clear out expired and unused stuff. We tend to tag team: one of us will talk with my mom about something hopefully interesting while the other (generally my sister) will grab a black contractor bag and rapidly sweep things into the bag.
Personal shopping: my mom doesn’t drive anymore, so trips to the pharmacy and grocery and hardware stores are a regular part of visits. Some things can be delivered, but my mother likes doing the shopping herself and in person, so we go from place to place, armed with lists.
Packing and moving household items: in addition to the constant attention to managing my mom’s shifting household inventory, my sister and I helped my aunt Cathy, who is downsizing from a four-bedroom house to a two-bedroom house. She has a lot of breakable antique doodads– art and pottery and rugs and misc items– which require careful packing and moving. I’m happy to report that a three-foot-tall painting of a moose was successfully moved and placed over the electrical panel in her new hallway.
Efficient personal inventory management: I never stay in one place for long while I’m visiting, so I have to be nimble, with quick turnaround as I move from place to place. I’ve gotten good at literally compartmentalizing my stuff and making sure I keep things together in their compartments and putting everything back at the end of each day. It takes mental effort, but pays off in terms of the security of always knowing where my toothbrush is.
Nutrition and exercise and mindfulness practice: thank goodness for my meditation app, which I use every morning when I wake up, regardless of where that happens to be. I also carry my large and gaily stickered Hydroflask everywhere with me. Exercise is sometimes catch-as-catch-can, but I do get to swim and walk and dog-walk with family, which is fun.
Driver/navigator/tour guide: on this trip, my sister and I logged more than 1000 miles of car travel, zooming to and from various family locations. She prefers driving, so I come up with interesting (read rural) routes, keep us on track (we go through many places where cell signal is nowhere to be found) and offer commentary to entertain my mom or others in the car. Reducing cartime crabbiness is an important job, and I do my best.
Now that I am back home, I can resume my regular schedule of nutrition and physical activity and mindfulness and life tasks. However, I’m taking today off. After being away for more than a week, I need a mini-vacation!
Thanks, Bradley A from Unsplash for the advice to enter a laptop-free zone. At least for a while…
It’s not easy to find a few days in which four twenty-somethings, a hard-working public health epidemiology nurse, and a college professor/aunt/sister living 1000 miles away can all get together for some beachy relaxation, meals and general watery merriment.
But, we all managed to make the time. My sister, her kids and selected others (friends, sweeties, etc.) have been gathering on the South Carolina coast since her kids were born. In fact, my sister and I enjoyed the same summer ritual with our family from the time we were born.
These vacations for me mean mellow family activity– swimming, walking, cycling (although the weather didn’t cooperate this trip), and occasionally kayaking. Also game playing, movie watching, and good meals, snacks, beverages and treats. Hanging out at the beach with people I love is my favorite thing of all, and I am the most relaxed and well-rested for the year.
So, what did we do this year? TLDR: swim (beach and pool), eat yummy coastal meals, stroll on beachs and by marshes, and sample soft serve ice cream, and play arcade games (yes, they still have skeeball and space invaders). Need proof? No problem.
Some of us on a partly cloudy beach day, not minding at all. My niece, in all her bathing suited awesomeness.
We listened to a Stevie-Nicks-Janis-Joplin homage singer at this marsh-front bar.
Me, nephew and niece at open-air bar, waiting on half-price mozzarella sticks.
We had dinner at a place called The Claw House, then strolled along the boardwalk. This party boat was coming back from a loud and possible queasiness-inducing voyage. You can see some people were very eager to disembark.
People fleeing, uh, disembarking from the Pie-Eyed Parrot party boat. The Pie-Eyed Parrot party boat at rest.
Honestly, I would have much preferred to have a party on this boat, which was also resting by the time we strolled by.
Inflatable flamingo party boat. This is more my speed.
These guys were playing 90s rock to a partly appreciative audience. I was among those appreciating it.
For those about to rock, we salute you.
One evening, we went to a local place for dinner, and enjoyed a beautiful sunset.
Purple and gray-blue and pink watercolor shades over the marsh. Similar colors against the porch of the restaurant.
And what family beach trip would be complete without some time at the arcade?
The Garden City pavilion and arcade. Fine family fun. We didn’t play this game, but did indulge in many silly engrossing tests of skill…
I’m still on vacation, so more fun will be had. But I had to share some of the ongoing fun with all of you.
Dear Readers, how are you spending your leisure time this summer? I’m always up for more frivolity suggestions.
Having stopped spending time being paid to do things has me thinking a lot about my “free” time and how I’m investing it in my fitness goals as well as helping others.
Working out
Gym memberships and classes are times when we pay others so we can protect our unpaid time to invest in our well-being and fitness. It’s something many of the bloggers and readers can identify with, ensuring we dedicate time to our fitness and well-being.
In relationships with partners, parents, children and friends the uneven burden of care still exists with women and femme folks shouldering most of the work.
Logistics of Longevity
From booking of medical and dental appointments to tracking how much extended benefit coverage is left for a massage or physiotherapy for the family, it’s often women doing that work in our unpaid time.
Sometimes my support of our family’s fitness goals looks like running to the bike shop each week getting tire irons, tubes, and yet another pair of gloves. Where are the gloves going?
Other times it is meal planning, groceries, sharing garden bounty with friends and preserving food.
It is also sorting through piles of mismatched socks. Sam introduced me to The Annual Mating of the Socks one year and I continue to do it each fall. It’s the time of year when I reach for socks and can’t find them.
In spring, I can never find my cycling gloves. Just one, lonely white light weight cycling glove sitting among the pile of larger, black, heavy duty ones Michel favours.
Health and Philanthropy
Twenty years ago I remember organizing the Canadian Cancer Society door to door campaign. This fundraising was built on the availability of women in rural communities organizing their neighbourhoods into teams. A team captain, often a woman who also ran the women’s auxiliary at the legion, the church fundraisers as well as Heart and Stroke, Diabetes Canada and our daffodil days fundraisers.
These women organized and collected millions of dollars, often $5 at a time. They would dutifully write out each paper receipt, balance books, and provide reporting. It was a lot. As more women needed to work off the farm or outside of the home they no longer had the unpaid time to organize door to door campaigns. Besides, no one was home to answer the door anymore. So these vital fundraising campaigns gave way to other means of gathering funds.
Where my “free” time goes
In the fourth week of my retirement I’ve helped a friend in her garden, driven another to a medical appointment, and had a doctor’s appointment for myself. I provided support to both of my adult childeren who are going through all the things people in their mid to late 20s go through.
My road bike, Ethyl, tucked in a toilet stall on Sunday.
I did find time for cycling Sunday, Friday and this morning. My daily dog walks with Michel continue to ensure I get lots of movement in my day.
My commuter bike, Myrna, showing off our haul of wild garlic from a trip on Friday.
I hosted my writing friends and we are ensuring we stay focused on getting more writing done. I’m pretty sure blog posts count.
Family Matters
Tomorrow I’m packing my bag to head to New Brunswick for my grandmother’s interment and visit with my parents. My kids are joining me. While down east I am going to ask that someone have a marriage or a baby so I can have a happy excuse to travel rather than another sad one.
I am only able to go see my family because I am retired. Otherwise, I would have already used up most of my vacation. It is the point of having more unpaid time, to be there for my family.
I’m still working on finding the balance between my needs and everyone else’s. My friend Net reassured me that after a few months I will find a more sustainable pace in retirement. I hope she’s right!
Mother’s Day (and Father’s Day) are multilayered holidays. We celebrate, remember, mourn, avoid, look forward to, revel in, ignore– our reactions run the gamut of emotions.
My own mother is almost 83 years old. Our relationship has certainly run the gamut of emotions. She has had life-long mental illness, with all the strife that brings. That is not all she has brought to our relationship, though. My memories of fun with my mom include:
learning to play tennis at age 7 with her
riding bikes out to my aunt and uncle’s house in the country
going to the beach for the day, swimming in the ocean, heading home salty and satisfied
hearing about her adventures at the new gym in town, looking forward to being old enough to go with her
swimming at the local pool in summers, her looking up from her magazine, checking on me
tent camping and cooking on a camp stove, both of which yielded mixed results
I don’t have a lot of physical activity memories of my mom from my adulthood. She became less interested in swimming, tennis, outdoor walks, and instead we would drive to local parks and gardens and walk to see what was in bloom. We still do this, and it’s a nice experience for both of us.
My adulthood looks completely different from my mother’s on multiple fronts. I’ve been more physically active, more professionally active and more socially active. I plan to continue in the same fashion, and will adjust as needed. This is something I have also learned from my mother– when circumstances change abruptly, make adjustments, course corrections. She is still navigating life with a sense of openness to change, and I want that for myself, too.
I wish us all agility and nimbleness in our course corrections, today and moving forward.
And I find I can’t even begin to write about our outdoorsy fitness activities without mentioning the horrors of the fascist government south of us.
I’m also very aware these days that although this blog is based in Canada and almost all of our bloggers are Canadian (Catherine and Mina are in the United States), the majority of our readers are American.
So this post flip flops between what we’re doing and what’s going on, because that’s kind of how my life feels these days.
Some normal life and life activities, working and working out, cooking, and playing cards with friends and family alternating with reading, watching, and listening to political news that’s pretty horrifying. I’m thinking of American friends and colleagues with love and fear.
I’ve been away working in Ottawa last week and will be there this week too. Sarah and I are spending time in the middle at the farm. We were with family and some of Mallory’s friends here on the weekend.
Saturday was freezing cold. Sunday was a snowstorm.
And in the midst of it all ICE shot and killed a young nurse who was helping a woman during the protests in Minneapolis. Alex Pretti, 37, was pushed to the ground and shot 10 times. We’re all horrified.
So it was a fun weekend but it was also a hard weekend as we worry about what’s happening in the United States.
Saturday was so cold that I considered staying in. But I also felt the need to get outside in nature, in the fresh air, in the sun, no matter how cold it was. So we went for a hike in our snow shoes and even though it was pretty chilly, I felt better afterwards. Sun helps. Movement helps. Company helps.
I understand why the people of Minnesota are outside protesting in the cold temperatures. I’d be there too.
We’ve also been cooking lots of familiar comfort food: veggie chili and cornbread, general tsao tofu and rice with broccoli, scrambled eggs, French toast, soup and grilled cheeses.
Also, I read this in The Atlantic about what’s going on politically in the United States: “Yes, It’s Fascism: Until recently, I thought it a term best avoided. But now, the resemblances are too many and too strong to deny.”
And here’s a photo of Sarah, Susan, Mallory, and me frolicking in the snow.
One of the social media threads that made me smile this weekend was people listing online communities that don’t normally talk about politics that are now full of angry anti-ICE speeches. From road cycling reddits, and nail polish sites, to porn user groups, and bird watching forums, people are saying that enough is enough.
If you want to do something to help the people of Minnesota, but you’re not sure what, here’s a list of places to donate.
“Minnesota is under occupation by federal agents from ICE and CBP, and we need your support. Across Minnesota, ICE continues to stop, harass, and detain people regardless of their citizenship status. Normal life in Minnesota has been interrupted, as schools have been forced to close or go virtual, as people live in fear of leaving their homes or going to work. Minnesotans are organized and activated to respond to this violence. But they need our help. “
I rang in the New Year (technically, the day after) in a way I heartily recommend: swimming with a friend and her toddler! My friend Rachel and I took her daughter Teagan to a local hotel pool that offers day passes. It’s pretty cold here in New England, and the hotel indoor pool offers a respite from freezing cold temperatures outside and cramped play spaces inside.
When we got there on Friday, there were about five kids in the pool horsing around, with a group of fully-clothed parents lounging and scrolling on their phones. We went into the locker room to change into bathing suits and headed into the relatively warm water.
Teagan isn’t a swimmer yet, being a few weeks shy of 3 years old, but she loved the water, and she loved playing with us. Favorite activities included:
Jumping from the side of the pool into the waiting arms of Rachel or me;
Bring hurled through the air (well, sort of) between Rachel and me in the pool, making a big splash as she landed;
being swirled in a circular motion, clockwise or counter-clockwise (she didn’t express a preference) while squealing, laughing and splashing;
blowing bubbles in the water;
watching us blow bubbles in the water;
pretend/sort-of-actual swimming, with a bit of assistance;
bobbing up and down, kicking her feet but not making any forward progress (which bothered her not a whit)
being wrapped up in multiple towels, including my rainbow beach towel.
I got a decent upper body workout, lifting, holding, and catching her, as well as working on my high-speed circular swirling technique. And it was very good for my heart. And soul…
Here’s a picture of them enjoying the pool. I was the photographer this time. I expect my participation to be documented in future pool explorations (of which I hope the next is soon).
Teagan (on left) and Rachel (on right). Both very happy.
When my youngest nephew Gray (now 20) was born I looked after his two older siblings (5 and almost 3) for the first few weeks while my sister was getting settled in with a new baby. Our most joyful outings were to the pool– there no one was sad or grumpy or tired or bored. We splashed and played and hung out and ate snacks and enjoyed the water and each other. Honestly, is there anything better?
This winter season, if you’re feeling in need of a pick-me-up, borrow a kid or a friend or take yourself to a pool. Splash around. Do a handstand underwater. See how long you can hold your breath. Dive for random objects thrown to the bottom. Oh, and don’t forget to bring snacks and fluffy towels, too.
May is usually a time of transition for me. The school term finishes and I ease into my summer schedule, which often includes travel to see friends and family, occasional conferences, and summer-at-home activity and projects. This May, however, I’ve been running (and driving and flying) around. Last week I was in Vermont with a friend, hanging out, doing some work, and petting the resident cat Kasper. This week I’m in South Carolina, staying with my sister and seeing my mom and other family.
My sister’s kids are out of the house this week on their own travel adventures, so we are taking advantage of the quieter time to hang out together and also knock out some home improvement tasks. Her wish list includes the following:
replace IKEA wardrobe doors
paint IKEA wardrobe sides to go with new doors
buy new bed and mattress
get rid of old bed and mattress to complete transition
paint bathroom one
paint bathroom two
buy and install IKEA standing shelf unit for bathroom two
paint upper kitchen cabinets
miscellaneous car maintenance for her and kids’ cars
My guess is that we will achieve some from her list and some from my list. We have already made some progress, having gone to IKEA right after she picked me up from the Charlotte, NC airport and scoped out possible purchases. And last night we watched several episodes of Hacks.
I like domestic activity, I like visiting my family, and I’m looking forward to this week. I’ll update y’all when I get back (my flight takes me home on May 31). Then my actual summer will begin…
A patch of Rocky shoals spider lilies; hoping to see some later today!
This winter has been hard. My dad was diagnosed with late stage cancer just before Christmas. Then my mom fell and broke two bones at opposite ends of her body. Until now, they have been each other’s primary caregiver (when one was needed), but now they are both struggling.
Mom and Dad still live on their own, in a house with stairs. Luckily it’s only a half-hour drive from my house. And luckily I channel my anxiety into cooking, so they have been well stocked with easy-to-reheat favourite foods. And care services have been great, with a nurse, personal support workers, physiotherapist, and even someone to clean the house.
Still, I have been very busy taking them things or helping them with computer issues, driving them to appointments (and managing their calendar), or just sitting and keeping them company. Thank goodness I retired last summer.
I’m not exactly part of a sandwich generation, as my own kids are grown, but the feeling of being pulled in multiple directions is very real. I love my parents and I’m glad to support them as much as I can, but it is physically and mentally exhausting sometimes. Despite my cheery post yesterday, I am struggling to fit in time to take care of myself.
The newness, the rawness, and the pain of caring for someone who will never get better has me breaking into tears far too often. My dad has been the best feminist ally a person could ask for. He has always been so supportive of mom, my sister and me, and is so proud of my daughter. He was a wonderful role model for my son, who has grown into a feminist husband and father.
I try to tell myself that this is the normal cycle of life, and that Mom played the same role for Grandma (Dad’s mom, who moved in with them for the last few years of her life and died at home). I’m deeply grateful that my parents ensured my sister and I are financially literate, and that they have all their affairs in order. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be dependent on someone all your life, and then suddenly left to deal with taxes, banks and bills, and maybe the loss of income.
Normally I would end a post with some sort of jokey anecdote or clever final words, but all I can think of right now is something a colleague said to me over 30 years ago. His father had just died and he said the death wasn’t the hardest part. His father had lived a long life. It was realizing you were no longer someone’s child, even if you were already in your 50s. I’m not ready to stop being a child.
How many of you out there used to do cartwheels when you were kids? I certainly did (with varying degrees of success but unvarying degrees of fun). Maybe some of you are still occasionally flying across space, arms and legs akimbo, in which case, yay for you!
As we have discussed at great length on this blog, physical activities often feel more comfortable with the right gear and clothing. For playing around outside, jumping and leaping, cartwheeling and handstanding, reason and experience dictate shorts, sweats, or leggings along with tops, preferably not too baggy (so as not to interfere with movement or vision). Makes sense, right?
Not according to a public charter school in North Carolina whose dress code required female students to wear skirts to school and prohibited them from wearing pants or shorts.
Yes, the school authorities really did say their dress code was designed to promote chivalry and traditional values. Am linking to definition, as most of our readers are not medieval knights.
Oh, I forgot to add that the actual quote by the charter school founder (reported by one of the plaintiff’s mothers) was “Well, to promote chivalry, because every girl is a fragile vessel.”
Hmmm. Just to confirm that I’m not the only person stupefied by this anwer, I googled “fragile vessel” to see what he could’ve been referring to.
A small boat on dry land.Structure in NYC called The Vessel.Pottery vase, cracked and worn.
Google clearly has no more idea than I do. None of the images offered up were of girls, either in pants or skirts.
Seriously, though: the messages that dress codes send can have a profound effect on our identity and our behavior, says ACLU Women’s Rights Project Director Ria Tabacco Mar. In an interview with my favorite comedian/activist/dad of three girls, W. Kamau Bell, she says:
Dress codes, unfortunately, can often be the site where we are teaching students what it means to be appropriate, what it means to be a girl, what it means to be a boy, that those things, those parts of ourselves are relevant to how we learn.
And what do our children learn when they are subjected to extreme sexist and racist dress codes? Here’s Tabacco Mar’s answer:
Our children are listening. This is what kills me. We’re talking about young children. With our skirts case, when we started, our youngest client was going into kindergarten. She was five years old. She’s in high school now. She wears pants. Spoiler, they all wear pants. We won. That’s the good news. But even at five, she knew. She picked up on the message. So nobody was using the word “chivalry” to a five-year-old. Probably she didn’t know what that word meant. But she knew that the message was that boys and girls are different. The boys are better. The boys can move freely in the classroom. The boys can sit crisscross applesauce and girls have to sit with their legs to the side. The boys can do cartwheels at recess and girls have to stand on the sideline chatting.
…People often said, “What’s the big deal about skirts? Did you really have to sue them over it?” Well, if the skirts are not a big deal, then why didn’t they change the dress code when we asked them to? Because it is a big deal. It’s communicating really important messages about what it means to be a student — what it means to be a boy, what it means to be a girl — and it’s teaching us that those things are relevant in ways that they, frankly, should not be.
Bell’s interview with Tabacco Mar includes discussion of other dress code cases, many of which send racist, sexist, anti-trans, homophobic and xenophobic messages. You can read or listen to it here. There’s a lot to digest, and the issues they discuss reveal a bigger picture of injustice.
To focus back on a small part of that picture: the main message I want to send kids is that it can be GREAT to be one. One of the big advantages of being a kid is the license to explore the world using the abilities and senses their bodies have. Not all of us do cartwheels. But denying kids the chance to flip around because they’re stuck wearing a dress is, well, just silly.
Speaking of silly (this time in a good way): if you would like a tutorial on assisted cartwheels, and in fact a double cartwheel, look no further than below.
Readers, I wish you comfortable clothing and some leisure time to explore the world, your bodies, and fun with both. Let us know if you have cartwheel or other fun movement stories to share.
