CALGARY, CANADA: Tales From a Childcare Provider

CALGARY, CANADA: Tales From a Childcare Provider

childcare

I recently left my job in a poverty law office to start a daycare and pre-school. Before opening my home, I researched every aspect of the business; at least I thought I did. Since I’d been homeschooling since forever, I thought that my new venture would be an extension of what I had been doing. What you can’t find written in pages of wisdom is how to get through the day with young children – that is something you have to experience on your own. (more…)

Salma (Canada)

An Imperfect Stepford Wife is what Salma describes herself as because she simply cannot get it right. She loves decorating, travelling, parenting,learning, writing, reading and cooking, She also delights in all things mischievous, simply because it drives her hubby crazy. Salma has 2 daughters and a baby boy. The death of her first son in 2009 was very difficult, however, after the birth of her Rainbow baby in 2010 (one day after her birthday) she has made a commitment to laugh more and channel the innocence of youth through her children. She has blogged about her loss, her pregnancy with Rainbow, and Islamic life. After relocating to Alberta with her husband in 2011 she has found new challenges and rewards- like buying their first house, and finding a rewarding career. Her roots are tied to Jamaica, while her hubby is from Yemen. Their routes, however, have led them to Egypt and Canada, which is most interesting because their lives are filled with cultural and language barriers. Even though she earned a degree in Criminology, Salma's true passion is Social Work. She truly appreciates the beauty of the human race. She writes critical essays on topics such as feminism and the law, cultural relativity and the role of women in Islam and "the veil". Salma works full-time, however, she believes that unless the imagination of a child is nourished, it will go to waste. She follows the philosophy of un-schooling and always finds time to teach and explore with her children. From this stance, she pushes her children to be passionate about every aspect of life, and to strive to be life-long learners and teachers. You can read about her at Chasing Rainbow.

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Happy Chinese New Year!

Happy Chinese New Year!

hong baoSolar year, 2015—celebrated in most of the Western world— is small potatoes  compared to its lunar counterpart starting today: The Year of the Goat, 4713.

Today, in many countries across Asia, people are celebrating Chinese New Year [CNY]. It marks the first day of the lunar year, which begins with the second new moon after the Winter Solstice.

CNY is the most important holiday for Chinese people world-wide and is celebrated in countries with significant Chinese populations (Hong Kong, Macau, Singapore, Taiwan, Indonesia, Philippines, Thailand, Malaysia and Mauritius).

Even right here in America, in ways both big and small, Chinese families are celebrating the Year of the Goat too.

My husband, a first generation Chinese-American, brought his  Chinese culture into our home and together we have established our own family traditions.

Both our 8 and 5 year old children attend Chinese Language School so our celebrations typically begin there. This year, each of our kids performed in a class skit—one doing a New Year’s song and the other both a song and dance.

Their Chinese school rents out a local auditorium and the celebration goes on for four hours, complete with traditional paper decorations, red lanterns and Chinese snacks of spring rolls, scallion pancakes and fortune cookies (the latter of which I’m pretty sure is a wholly American invention).

And though the four-hour Chinese school celebration feels long and drawn out, it’s nothing compared to the 15-day celebration going on over in Asia.

We live just outside of Boston, a city boasting a large Chinatown. If we’re really motivated, we can fight the crowds and view Lion Dancers, firecrackers in the street and dine on authentic Chinese fare surrounded by thousands of people.

This year, however, our city is buried under record amounts of snow (96.7in/2.5m) so we won’t be making any such pilgrimage.

Sometimes we have friends over and make homemade wontons, a symbolic food representing a pouch of coins, or Hot Pot. Other years we just make sure we eat some kind of Chinese food (either at home or in a restaurant).

We also make sure we always give our kids Hong Bao, little, red envelopes filled with “lucky” money. Since our kids don’t get an allowance, this feels special to them. We never give them very much because it’s the gesture that counts but if they happen to be lucky enough to visit their great-grandmother around Chinese New Year,   they might get upwards of $50.

I know these little traditions are modest compared to mainland China but we hope that in our small way we are instilling in our children a some sense of the deep culture they are part of.

恭禧發財 

Gong Xi Fa Cai!

How do you hold on to your cultural heritage? What are some traditions you’ve incorporated into your own family?

This is an original post to World Moms Blog from our managing editor and mother of two in Boston, Massachusetts, Kyla P’an.

The image used in this post was taken by the author.

Kyla P'an (Portugal)

Kyla was born in suburban Philadelphia but spent most of her time growing up in New England. She took her first big, solo-trip at age 14, when she traveled to visit a friend on a small Greek island. Since then, travels have included: three months on the European rails, three years studying and working in Japan, and nine months taking the slow route back from Japan to the US when she was done. In addition to her work as Managing Editor of World Moms Network, Kyla is a freelance writer, copy editor, recovering triathlete and occasional blogger. Until recently, she and her husband resided outside of Boston, Massachusetts, where they were raising two spunky kids, two frisky cats, a snail, a fish and a snake. They now live outside of Lisbon, Portugal with two spunky teens and three frisky cats. You can read more about Kyla’s outlook on the world and parenting on her personal blogs, Growing Muses And Muses Where We Go

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NIGERIA: My Hijab, My Pride

NIGERIA: My Hijab, My Pride

aisha-hijabThis year, World Hijab Day (February 1) coincided with an invitation to a black tie event in my town honoring young leaders in politics.  It was also the 278th day of my town’s daily Sit Out/protest for the rescue of the #ChibokGirls, who, at that time, had been abducted for 293 days.  I was excited about the young leaders event.  It would be something nice to take away the gloom of carrying the guilt of failing 219#ChibokGirls.

I came to the event directly from the Sit Out, so I brought clothes to change into.  I couldn’t imagine having to go back home because my house was a bit far, and I hate not being punctual.  As I was about to enter the venue, a gentleman approached me.  Because I was wearing the Hijab, I had to go through a metal detector and body search. The colleague I was with was angry.  “Why?” he demanded.  “It’s because of what she is wearing,” the man said, “we can’t let her pass.” After passing through extra security, I was admitted.

As a Muslim woman who wears the Hijab, I am used to being treated differently and looked upon differently because of what I wear.  I face this discrimination both within and outside my country, and even amongst some Muslims, although the Hijab is compulsory for Muslim women.  Everything has to be covered by a loose garment except our hands and face. It is not something that I might want or not want to do; it is something that I have to do.

Some look at the Hijab as a form of enslavement.  It is not. Rather, it’s liberating.  It tells those I meet to deal with my intellect, and not to focus on my body.  More than 1400 years ago, Islam gave women this freedom.  As a Muslim woman, I have a right to education.  It is so infuriating when some Muslims deny their daughters this right because of their cultural beliefs or ignorance, and the world looks upon their practice as Islamic.

It is so infuriating when my Hijab is used as a symbol for their ignorance–and worse.

Sometimes, I do not blame those who treat me differently.  A lot of people have acted savagely and said they did so in the name of Islam.  I recently had an experience that touched my very soul.  It was time for prayers, and I was close to a mosque.  Opposite the mosque, some months ago, there had been a bomb blast that killed scores of people, including worshippers.  I walked over to the mosque to pray.  The man at the gate glanced my way, saw me, and he flinched.  There was stark fear in his eyes. I gently asked him, “Would you want me searched?”  He shook his head–probably with a pounding heart.  As I walked away, I realized this is what a band of evil people that have hijacked Islam have done: made a fellow Muslim fear seeing me walk to the mosque during prayer time.

All the tragedies committed in the name of Islam upset me, but I will not let the acts of cowards and criminals change how I practice my faith.  Before I am Aisha, I am a Muslim woman.  I will not allow any human being to make me uncomfortable in a world God created for us all.

Do any of your friends wear the Hijab?  Have any of you been judged for the actions of others based on your faith?

SOCIAL GOOD: GIVING BLOOD, GIVING LIFE.

SOCIAL GOOD: GIVING BLOOD, GIVING LIFE.

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Being an advocate for children and mothers, especially the needy in the society, means supporting and standing for the rights of these vulnerable individuals in the society. Children should not be left to their own devices without the able help of an adult; preferably a mother. That is why no woman should die giving life to another.

Birth is a beautiful thing and must be a happy moment in the lives of every family, most importantly the mother. But sometimes the process of giving life can be very traumatic and sometimes the unexpected even happens. Postpartum hemorrhage(PPH) is defined medically as the loss of more than 500 ml of blood within the first twenty-four hours following childbirth and is the leading cause of maternal mortality in low-income countries, and the primary cause of nearly a quarter of all maternal deaths globally. In some cases this condition is known to occur up to six weeks after delivery. There are various forms of treatment, of which blood transfusions is the most common; yet In the developing world, health systems are faced with enormous constraints that hinder the prompt delivery of obstetric care, which is vital for saving the lives of women who develop PPH.

A beneficiary of blood transfusion myself, I know its relevance to both the mother and the baby. It is therefore crucial at any point in time during birthing to have stock of blood in the blood bank for such emergencies.

In Ghana, there have been campaigns to donate blood as most of the blood banks are running low on their stock. Many corporate bodies have joined the campaign to ensure that this is achieved so that more lives can be saved when the need arises. Over the years, we have all contributed to replenishing the blood banks by donating pints of blood to the various health centers that need them. Last year, our organization, The African Child and Mother  collected several pints of blood to replenish the blood bank at the Tema General Hospital and the Tema Polyclinic as part of our “February love month”.

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This year however, as part of the Corporate Social Responsibility of some large corporate institutions, there were activities held today in the capital city to organize blood donation with the same aim of replenishing the blood banks. We believe that other corporate institutions and individuals will follow suit and donate blood to save a life because giving blood means giving life.

It is my personal appeal to all and sundry that we volunteer to give life by donating blood especially during this love month.

Wishing everyone a giving valentine!

Have you ever given blood or needed to receive it yourself? 

Picture courtesy Graphic online

This is an original post written by Adowa Gyimah of Ghana for World Moms Blog.

NETHERLANDS: What’s My Name Again?

NETHERLANDS: What’s My Name Again?

2681579791_7ca98063b7_oI like my name. It is short, easy to pronounce, Slavic but international at the same time. I was not always fond of it but now I am. 5 years ago I changed my last name to match my husband’s and not long after that, I acquired yet a new first name: Mama.

I like that as well, but it is not the only name I have. There are others. Sometimes, I’m Mrs. Mecking, my husband’s wife. The woman who fills in forms and goes to the doctor, the one who studied and has a MA degree, who once held a job. Sometimes, I am known as the European Mama, blogger, writer, translator and contributor to many great sites, like World Moms Blog. For friends and family, I am simply Olga or endearments thereof.

I’ve never liked being just one thing, so it is no wonder that when motherhood threatened to take over everything, I fought back and fought hard. I didn’t want to be “just a mother”. I wanted motherhood to complement the many colours of my personality, not to repaint it.

So when I had my first child, I worked hard to finish my MA thesis. When my second child was born, I started a blog. When my son came along, I consciously decided to keep writing as soon as it was possible because already I could feel my brain being fogged over by sleep deprivation and I wanted to keep it sharp and alert. I knew if I was to remain sane, I’d have to fight against the “mommyfication”.

And fight I did. The more I wrote, the more I felt I was returning to my own self. And it felt good. Some told me “You may regret not being with them every minute of their lives, time goes so quickly”. I don’t think so. I know why I did what I did and why it was necessary.

Apparently there is a discussion whether it is OK for children to call the parents by their first names. For a long time, my children called me “mama” but my husband went by his first name. I asked them why this was the case. My eldest answered that she always thought my name was Mama. Don’t get me wrong, she knows that my name is Olga, but to her, I’m Mama.

As she begins to make more sense of the world, she figures out that there is more to her mother than just being Mama. Recently, she asked me: “Are you Olga or are you Mama?”.

I explained that my name is Olga but that I’m her mom, and that she has a name as well and that she is a daughter and a sister, and a friend and a student at school. And that she is also herself.

They say that a woman is usually remembered by her relations to someone else. Obituaries say “good wife, devoted mother, great friend”. That is not how I want to be remembered. I want to be remembered as a smart, clever, intelligent person, in short, I want to be remembered for my own sake.

And I want my children to understand that yes, I am their mother, but I am also many other things at the same time. I wear many hats. Sometimes, I am not entirely sure what I am. Sometimes I am one things and mere seconds later, I am something else.

I am always changing, always adapting, always in motion. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because while standing still to catch your breath is great, I know that in this case, to stand still is to stagnate. It’s not that I dislike being a mother, but the only way I can enjoy it it’s when I can be something else for a change. I want to be Mama, but I also want to be Olga, Mrs. Mecking or The European Mama. I want to be able to change my names like I change my clothes and wear something new every day.

What about you? Do you mind being “Mama” or do you prefer to have many names?

This is an original post to World Moms Blog by The European Mama, Olga Mecking of The Netherlands. Photo credit: Mike Licht. This picture has a creative commons attribution license.

Olga Mecking

Olga is a Polish woman living in the Netherlands with her German husband. She is a multilingual expat mom to three trilingual children (even though, theoretically, only one is trilingual since she's old enough to speak). She loves being an expat, exploring new cultures, learning languages, cooking and raising her children. Occasionally, Olga gives trainings in intercultural communication and works as a translator. Otherwise, you can find her sharing her experiences on her blog, The European Mama. Also take a while to visit her Facebook page .

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