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The post that makes you ALL hate me will have to wait until tomorrow(sorry, Amber; although this cop-out will probably make you hate me anyways :)). I currently have:

  • an overfull belly because I ate too much barley-spinach-sundried tomato casserole and roast beast
  • a baby alternately emptying the laundry basket of her clean diapers and chewing on my toes
  • books all over the floor
  • a now-overtired baby who needs snuggling
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So, kids, let’s talk about democracy. Because I’d rather do that than stuff diapers at the moment.

I’ll start off by saying that we (and by “we” I mean “Canadians”) live in one of the greatest countries of the world. We’ve got a nice blend of capitalism and socialism – decent health care and other social services, freedom from illegal search and seizure, and so on.

And it’s because we live in a democracy. Every four or five years (give or take – I’m not getting into how elections get scheduled here) we vote for a new government. It could be the same as before, it could be different – but each election is a chance for change.

Often, because of the way the electoral system works, there is only a change when people are good and pissed off. This is what is known as the protest vote. People come out in droves to vote because they finally have an opinion, usually about the outgoing government.

Are we good so far? Do you have my main point? That it is the electorate – citizens – that control who is in power.

Since 2001, there has been a marked change in how elections take place. Throughout campaigning, there has been an emphasis on fear. What I have noted over and over is that politicians need to tell me why to vote for them and not why I shouldn’t vote for the other guy. All they tell me is that if I vote for Candidate X, that will guarantee Armageddon.

And here I thought the Mayans said that would occur in December 2012.

Fear is politics’ commodity. It’s been effectively used before against populations: Nazi Germany, the Soviet Union, various pre-democratic and democratic monarchies. It’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing: fear disguised as hope. And it is, unfortunately, being used far too oftenby politicians against citizens, in what are, ostensibly, democratic countries.

Now given that we live in a democracy, or at least a country with democratic tendencies, who should be scared of whom?

Come back later, and I’ll let you know what I think and give you a reason to unfollow me. But I have to get the roast ready for dinner now.

Before becoming a mother, I used to Get A Lot Done. Multiple things over the course of the day, and still have time to relax in the evening.  And yet, it didn’t seem that important or fulfilling.

These days, I’m lucky if I get dinner on the table. I spend a lot of time playing and snuggling the Poptart, or we go out to various programs (Salsababies, aquafit, Mother Goose, storytime, etc) and usually after that she is done and ready for a nap of some sort. So we go home and snuggle.

Currently, she is pulling books off her shelf in the living room.

I don’t spend a lot of time on household stuff. The crockpot gets a lot of use. In fact, I’ve ordered a second crockpot with my airmiles (this one has a meat thermometer – how exciting!).  The bathrooms usually get cleaned about once a week or 10 days or so. The kitchen/entry/dining room floor gets mopped once a week or so. Maybe once every two weeks.

And yet, I am fulfilled. Moreso than I’ve been in a long time.

…you get four entries today. They will be done in order to complete NaBloPoMo.

I really should have scheduled posts in advance. I’m usually pretty good at planning, but not so much with the pre-planning and pre-dating blog posts.

And the last post today? Will be a doozy that will probably result in loss of followers on twitter and people abandoning my blog.

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When the Poptart was about 4 months old, I was having lunch with my parents at Boston Pizza and she grabbed salad off my plate and stuffed it in her mouth. Then she grabbed my water glass and insisted on drinking out of it.

So we decided to start her on solids. We got a bag of rice cereal that she ate about three spoonfuls of, and then I gave her some pears.

She is not shy about eating. Ask Amber if you don’t believe me. She’ll eat pretty much anything and everything you put in front of her. She’ll only object if it’s too hot or dry (as I found out with her chicken tonight).

Among the weirder things she eats are:

  • bacon
  • ham (regular, not honey)
  • olives (black)
  • spicy black beans
  • spicy meatballs (made with Rooster sauce – you know the stuff I’m talking about)
  • prunes (which I am not a fan of)
  • spinach

I suppose we’ll find out if she’s really my daughter at Christmas when we’re at my parents’ place. If she likes brussels sprouts, I’ll have to question if she is actually mine.


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