Aboriginals

My class has had a number of fairly controversial debates over the past four years, including the discussion of abortion, the death penalty, and euthanasia (holy depressing theme...).  The most recent open discussion was one that left me really frustrated and it wasn't because of the content being spoken of, but the way people were quick to respond defensively, as if they had been attacked. Now, I admittedly am not very good at articulating my thoughts verbally or in the heat of the moment. 20 minutes later, I had a hundred things I could have said but refrained from doing so in class as I had already done a pretty good job of making myself sound like an ass.  Lucky for Cassy and her family, they got the privilege of listening to me get all of those thoughts off my chest over lunch.

Sometimes I feel like the only person who does not remember learning about/ was never taught about the Canadian residential schools.  If you're like me, then you will find this very interesting, although if I have gotten something wrong- please correct me.  Residential (boarding) Schools were created for Aboriginal people of Canada, funded by the Federal Government and administered by the Catholic and Anglican Church.  They were seen as a way to assimilate Aboriginal people into a European-Canadian society.  These compulsory schools (for status Indians under 16 years old) forcibly removed children from their families, and if their families failed to send their children then they were threatened with fines or prison.  The children who attended these schools were deprived of their ancestral languages, underwent forced sterilization, and were exposed to physical and sexual abuse, neglect, and torture from the hands of the teachers and other students.  Overcrowding, poor sanitation, inadequate heating, and a lack of medical care led to high rates of influenza and tuberculosis.  It has recently been reported that at least 50 000 children died in these school, mostly from disease.  These schools originally opened in the 1880s and the last one closed as recently as 1996.  In 1996 I was in grade 4 (right?).  I was playing rep soccer for the first time with my dad coaching my team.  I lived in a large house, ate dinner with my family every night, and had a pet dog.  I was not taken away from my family and exposed to various forms of abuse, nor did I ever think for a second that kids my age were living through such horrific experiences.  This part of Canadian history has been referred to as a cultural genocide, which our nation is severely undereducated about.

Impacts from Residential Schools are intergenerational. The parents who were forced to send their children to the schools had to deal with effects of separation, without the opportunity to be informed of their well-being or to speak with their child for months at a time. The children who attended these schools and suffered such atrocities, resulted in feelings of alienation, shame, and anger, which is passed down onto their children and grandchildren.
Attachment to caregivers is significant on a child's development, and an attachment to a nurturing and reliable caregiver is essential for healthy growth.  Children of Residential Schools were not given that experience once they were removed from their homes, and as a result they continue to struggle today with the ability of forming attachments and relationships with others.  Consequences of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse continue to be felt in each subsequent generation.  Traumatic wounds exist in the lives of many Aboriginals, as they had been raised to believe that being Aboriginal was something to be ashamed of.

I can't remember where I initially heard this, but supposedly it takes 7 generations to overcome such a traumatic life event, like living in these Residential Schools.  If that is the case, we are currently only 1 or 2 generations in.  It is pretty scary to think that this type of maltreatment among citizens of Canada has occurred during our lifetimes.

Recently, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was in Edmonton.  For those who do not about the TRC is, it is committed to establishing new relationships between First Nations, Inuit, Metis, former Indian Residential School students, families, communities, religious entities, former school employees, the government, and the people of Canada.  There is an emerging desire to put the events of the Residential Schools in the past and works towards healthier futures.  The TRC was attended by my class, which prompted the conversation surrounding the Aboriginals living on reserves.  I have a ton of empathy for the families affected by the Residential Schools and I wish there was more than I could do for them.  Many of the children I work with are Aboriginal or have Aboriginal ancestry, and I can see the effects of Residential Schools on a daily basis, however, there were a couple of things mentioned in our class that left me thinking about them outside of class...

1.  It was brought to our attention that on one of the reserves North of Edmonton, approximately 75% of the homes are missing front doors.  In my ever-so-delicate manner I asked, "why can't they fix their doors?"  This sparked a bit of a discussion.  All of the houses on reserves are paid for by the federal government.  The residents live there mortgage/rent free.  Many have lived in the homes for decades, but technically the government could evict them at any time.  These houses are not up to a typical standard of living.  Many are made of wood, which warps and burns, slanted porches, leaking roofs, rolling floors, and bad or no plumbing at all.  There are even reports of people resorting to housing in insulated sheds.  One way of looking at it was that if there is a large family living in a rent-free home in Alberta, then it would seemingly be in the family's best interest to block out the harsh cold winter by having a closed door.  Others believed that due to Aboriginal's nomadic history, lack of home ownership, and governmental responsibility that they should not be on the hook for home upgrades.

2. The federal government recognizes each First Nation band as an autonomous entity, and therefore provides separate funding to each one.  Non-Status Indians, Metis, and Inuit people are not part of this government system, which results in the major differences between their legal and social situation than that of the First Nations.  (This is getting confusing)  Each band is provided a certain amount of money from the government each year, which is then dispersed by the Chief or Band Council around education, housing, etc.   Unfortunately, not all of those in charge of these funds remain completely honest with their bands, and at times keep extra money for themselves.  This rattled up a discussion on who is to blame for the decreasing number of Aboriginal high school graduates and post-secondary students.  While the government provides much less funding to schools on reserves than it does to provincially run schools, is it the government's fault that the funds aren't reaching the educational systems?  Also to note, it is up to the band whether or not they will pay for post-secondary education.  This can result in situations where a student has had a couple years of university paid for, when it suddenly gets pulled.  Frustrating as all hell, but at the very least they were fortunate enough to have free education for at least part of their schooling.  Not all post-secondary students can say the same.

I don't know what I hoped to achieve with this post, other than to spread awareness and maybe create discussion or provide some context.  At the very least, I believe this dark side of Canadian history should be known and understood by all of us.

A !0 000 Kind of Year

Usually talking about money makes me so uncomfortable that I just end up crying, even if the conversation isn't remotely stress inducing (just ask my parents). That said, I feel like sharing this anyway.  My BFF and I are planning a totally awesome, fun, amazing backpacking trip due to leave the second our final class ends in 2014. I think we have finally figured out all of the stops we want to make and are onto the 'finalizing dates' stage. There was one day that I broke down all of the costs we would need to consider and I added them up. I then looked at my savings account and thought of a magic number I'd like to keep it at, even after the trip is complete. All in all, it looks like I'll have to save $10 000 in 10 months.  This breaks down to $500 a pay cheque, or in my world $250 a week, because budgeting biweekly gets to be too difficult for me (again, I am pathetic when it comes to finances). This goal is proving to be pretty difficult, especially being a part time employee and full time student with a million different expenses. Although, the hardest part so far is giving up my weekly fill of cactus cut potatoes- ohhh the cravings! So in case you are curious why I am even more MIA than usual, it is because I am in my room, watching greys repeats, not spending money.

On the 10 000 note, I have reached 10 000 views on my blog! I am sure in the world of the web that really is not a lot but in my own little universe it is pretty cool to me. So thanks readers!!!!

I Tried to Steal a Dog

As I've mentioned a couple hundred times, I work with children who have been abused and neglected in the most horrific, awful, sad, and disgusting ways that some people struggle to even imagine- never mind to actually live it. That said, I have never brought one home. I do not feel compelled to "save" the children by welcoming them into my own life at such a personal level, because working with them in the manner of which I do provides enough intrinsic satisfaction for me. Plus, these children have a voice; they also have child advocates, social workers, youth workers, case workers, psychologists, psychiatrists, teachers, doctors (upon doctors), medications, therapies, and coping mechanisms. 

However, when I hear of an animal, dogs in particular, that is suffering from abuse and/or neglect it is another story. Imagine my rage when my bff informs me that she knows of a dog that is being tormented with such bullshit. While she speaks, I can feel my blood start to boil, my hands start to twitch, and I suddenly get really hot (...?). I was basically one step away from my dark passenger completely taking over and going all Dexter on the ass-hole whom she is speaking about.  (Although, I was a couple of super stoked vodka cokes in at this point, so holding any sort of sharp object really wasn't ideal.) 

My trusty, law abiding, politically correct bff informed me that she had reported this abuse to the humane society and 3-1-1 numerous times already. The poor pooch was still in its same living quarters and under the same lousy conditions.  I took this moment to get all Mother Teresa and decided that justice needed to be served. While Cassalicious had been holding it together quite well until this point, my rage had weakened the feelings she had done so well keeping suppressed and soon she had caught up with my fury. Together we filled our dinner talk with resentment and the kind of anger you see in roid monkeys. 

That was that, we had to go save the dog, heal it with our love, and give it the beautiful life it deserves, 

so long as I committed the crime and kept it at my house.

Cassalicious pulled up to a quiet home, in an old neighbourhood full of gorgeous tall trees, that is best known for its abundance of hookers and drug use. That is when it finally happened for me; love at first sight. Sitting in his unfenced backyard, tied to a rope shorter than Finn's 'training leash' (the one used when I try to show off how well Finn can walk next to his owner) (which doesn't work), is the most beautiful dog in the world. At first, from a distance, and through slightly blurred vision, he looked like a regular pit bull pup.  After 100ish "aweeeeeee"s, "sooooo cuteeeee", and "good boyyyyyyy"s, I had approached the lovely animal.  Completely unaware if anyone was home or watching, fortunately I had the ever-helpful Cassalicious video taping behind me/ keeping a watchful eye out. 

This dog was effing muscular and certainly not an 8 week old puppy that I had envisioned. Up close, he almost looked like a pit bull cross bull mastiff (known for being MASSIVE). When he had originally been described to me, I remember hearing the words adorable, cute, and little puppy. While this dog was definitely good looking, he could obviously have been mistaken for a killer and images of him biting my hand off in one little nibble flashed through my mind. Cassalicious is obviously no longer reputable.

Luckily for my limbs, the dog was super playful. He instantly started jumping up and down (which I corrected better than Cesar himself) and covered my hand in gross, sloppy kisses. I WANT HIM. After introducing myself, I knelt down to his large, shark-like jaw level, and unclasped his leash.  Playful Pete charged at Cassalicious in a "I'm actually going to rip you to pieces" kind of way, and my God it was funny watching her run. I really did think he was going to bite her in the ass.  (He didn't.)  Once he got near the vehicle, he started to shake. A better word for it might even be convulse. He was so afraid of the car! Damn owners had apparently been spotted hitting and kicking him a number of times when he tried to jump up into vehicles. The little (huge) guy ran back to his leash and sat back down in the unmowed grass, now scared of us. Our only solution now was to lure it into the vehicle with snausages, like a professional dog-napper would do.

We raced off to IGA for dog treats, sped back to the house, and the crappy owners had returned.

FURY/RESENTMENT/WRATH/ANNOYANCE/RAGE/ANGER/IRRITATION/TEMPER

Mission failed. 

Now, while Cassalicious believes the dog should be named Dexter; because he clearly looks capable of murder, I gave him the name Jack Bauer; because he is so bad ass. The question remains of what to do about poor Dexter/ Jack Bauer! Clearly reporting to people who are supposed to help is not working. Although after speaking with The Voice of Reason (my dad) he reminded me that not only could I face jail time, but I would lose my career if I was caught in the act. What can I/we/anyone do?!!

Ps. If you would like to steal me this dog I am happy to provide the home address for you.   :)

--I'm going to take a time out here to say a little something about the bad reputations Pit Bulls have gotten. I feel like the people who keep getting Pit Bulls that end up being harmful to others- are shit head owners like the ones I am mentioning today. These kinds of people don't get little shih tzus or pomeranians. They seek out a 'bad' dog that looks the part and can easily be trained to attack, or simply not train them at all and when the dog ends up hurting a person they are easy to place blame on. These people are the ones to blame for the pit bull stigma. I am afraid that Dexter/ Jack Bauer is headed towards the same fate, as he clearly does not have owners to train him properly, and once again a pit bull is going to end up aggressive.--

Doing Something Amazing

As you may know, I have blogged a few times over recent months about various charities that touched my heart and interested me enough to seek donations from my family and friends.  I know that money can be tight sometimes, which has taught me to appreciate every single penny that has been donated towards these amazing causes, from you.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

This love of helping others is clearly something I got from my mom.  For the past twenty-five years she has been volunteering her time to countless organizations.  While I was in elementary school, my mom volunteered around the classroom and assisted on field trips.  She would help the teachers during our computer class (which is actually hilarious because she technologically challenged), would take students aside individually or in small groups if they needed some extra help with spelling or math, and she volunteered to run our hot lunch program.  While I was in junior high school, she helped students during exam time who struggled with the pressures of being tested, and would read the questions out loud to them.  She was also responsible for planning, organizing, and implementing our local block parties (UNREAL) for four years.  With four soccer playing children and a coach for a husband, she was basically forced to become involved in the sport.  She volunteered as a board member for house league as a registrar (which was actually super annoying because I was the one who had to alphabetize EVERY youth soccer player's registration and group those who requested to be on another persons team, you're welcome), and as a board member for our local rep soccer club as a team representative.  She also had a major role in the Western Canada Summer Games as a Sport Director.  That was a week where our family starved every night at dinner time because my mom was MIA.  She basically got 5 hours of sleep each night while ensuring that everything ran as smoothly as possible.  She's obviously somewhat crazy... and OCD... either/or. 

Blurriest picture ever but there she is! Lady on the left

Now, she has signed up to do something for those far less fortunate than we are.  My mom will be joining the LoL Church and Beaumont group for a humanitarian trip to Mexico in July 2014.

She will be living in a local community while building homes for families living in 

extreme poverty.

Taking care of her family has always been of the upmost importance to my mom.  She would do and has done anything and everything she can to support us.  If we ask her to, she would stop whatever she is doing to help us out.  This grandma of two (almost three) is putting the needs of others ahead of her own to help them get back on their feet.  

One family that previously had their house built through this organization requested just one expensive item to be placed in their home: an oven.  The mother wanted the ability to bake on a daily basis, and to sell those baked goods enough to provide for her family.  My mom wants to be a part of that process, to give other families a surviving chance.  

During her stay, she will be sleeping in a bunk bed next to a number of other people, her hard efforts will be completed during the hurricane season, and she will be forced to use a hammer that does not have a floral pattern on the handle like the ones on her cool-tool kit at home.  

This is something I never pictured my mom doing.  This is the same lady whose idea of camping is borrowing a luxury motor home.  All of her previous visits to Mexico have been spent at five star resorts.  This. is. amazing.  While my mom has volunteered countless hours of her time already, this is the first time she has ever sought help from others.  In order to participate in this trip, she needs to raise $2000.  She has already received $450.  Her fundraising progress has a long way to go!  A really easy way to help her towards her fundraising goal is to buy a gift card to Superstore or Sobeys.  If you shop there already, this would be win-win for you and my mom. Simply buy a gift card in $50 denominations.  You would receive a gift card for face value that can be used in the store or at the gas station.  FYI a little fact according to my mom's gas tracker app- Superstore is one of the top three cheapest locations to fill up with gas each week in Sherwood Park.  For each gift card purchased, the grocery store will give my mom a percentage of the sales.  Every little bit helps!

The Lol Church and Beaumont group will be hosting a silent auction in November.  Unfortunately, my mom is unable to attend.  She is, however, looking for donated items that can be put up for auction.  If you have something you wish to donate, please contact either myself or my mom by email at kents@telusplanet.net.

If you are at all interested in simply donating money, donations can be made online here.  All donations will receive a tax receipt, and if you prefer they can be made anonymously. Even small donations make a big difference and are greatly appreciated.

While my mom prepares for what people say is a life changing experience, please keep her and her efforts in mind.  This humanitarian trip can only be accomplished with help from others.  

- Audrey Hepburn

It's Been a While...

I can't believe that in the past year I have only posted once.  I used to love blogging and kept up with it pretty regularly. Whether it is a ramble about crazy neighbour or a dorky craft I'd completed- at least I had something to say.  I have had over 7000 people view my blog, not that I know if that is a lot or a little in the world of blogging, but it is sure neat to me.  It's been so long since I have written anything now that I don't feel like I'm as good at it anymore- which really isn't helping motivate me to begin again.  Clearly, the past year has brought a ton of changes...


I moved again!  I am in an older, cute home, which I share with three other people. It's definitely different going from living in a big house and spending a lot of time solo, to living in a smaller house that is constantly full of life (including a dog, cat, and chinchilla).  It has been a pretty big adjustment for me but I am slowly getting the hang of 'being a landlord'.  It helps having a male roommate who can handle all of the blue jobs, and it is also nice having friends and family with some know-how on random tasks that I've never had to do or even had to think about myself before.  I'm learning to love the constant company as well.  At first, I was a hermit who hid in my room watching Grey's Anatomy repeats every evening (which I still basically do, I just leave it for bedtime).  Now I look forward to our kitchen conversations and the screams that come from the living room during a playoff game.

Another change is my taste in decorating.  If anyone remembers the blue room they will probably take a deep sigh of relief, as my decor skills clearly needed some work.  I may just make the record for the world's slowest decorator.  Partly because it literally takes me months and months to make up my mind on how I want a room to look, and partly because I am still a student (AKA poor) so it takes longer to get each and every item. Slowly but surely the house is started to look more and more like a home. 

I finally have enough frames to fill these shelves, now I just need to finish getting the perfect pictures to fill them!

There was a time when I was working 38 hours a week, going to school full time, completing the required16 hours of practicum per week, playing soccer, and trying to maintain some sort of social life.  I had never really experienced anxiety before, but my doctor had to literally stop herself mid-exam and leave the room because my blood pressure was so high.  It was then I realized I had to make some changes.  After six years of experience, I quit my job in the arenas (sorry mom, no more picture taking).     Working in rinks was really the perfect job for a student, other than staying up so late. It was refreshing to take time out of those old buildings and actually see sunshine during the day.  I started working at the same place I had a yearlong practicum at.  Any classmates would agree that it is a very intense group home, never lacking in hilarious, exhausting, or terrifying stories to share.  Funny enough, I find myself seeking employment in the rinks again.  It is nowhere near the Child and Youth Care field, but with one more year of school left it is good extra spending cash for me to consider.

Gone are the days of playing soccer.  While at work last year, I tripped in a gopher hole and ended up tearing two ligaments in my ankle.  Since then, I've taken up hot yoga (love) and started running a lot.  One of my roommates is also really great at dragging me to the gym and teaching me different routines with weights.  It's also easy to stay active (exhausting and annoying) when my job requires me to be on my feet and on the go for the entire 8 hour shift.  Instead, I've been assistant coach, alongside my dad.  We are coaching a girl's U-18 team and really enjoying it.  He has suggested I take some coaching courses and start up a team of my own, coaching them from U-12 all the way to U-18.  It is definitely something to consider, possibly after getting my degree. 

I've also caught the travel bug again.  When I was 18 years old and backpacking around Australia I made a friend who I still remain in contact with.  This year, she came out to Canada for the second time and we spent two very expensive weeks skiing all over Alberta.  It was really quite an amazing trip.  With my graduation finally somewhat approaching, I've started to make plans and have big thoughts on the next trip to take.  Time truly FLIES by and it is amazing how many years have passed since my last backpacking adventure, throughout Brazil.  This next vacation could be the last big one that I am able to take, and hope to make it worthwhile.  

The look of love, standing on Lake Louise, the most beautiful place on Earth.

Pinterest has obviously taken over my down time.  I have a list of projects 100 ideas long, and never actually get around to doing them.  Finally, after being inspired by my mommy-do-it-herself-be-amazing-everyday best friend, I completed one of them.  I stole an old book from my mom's garage sale pile, glued pages to thicker recycled paper, went crazy with a butterfly hole punch, and then popped some glue dots on them.  It took a couple of hours in front of the tv and done!

I know what my avid readers (mom and aunts) are hoping I will talk about ... my relationship status.  I am focusing on myself right now.  I feel as though it is important for me to take care of only my own life and not have to worry about another's.  It is along these lines that I got my second tattoo not too long ago.  It's a Latin phrase, translating to "she flies with her own wings."  This tattoo is my daily reminder that I am enough, and I do not need to be defined by whoever I am in a relationship with.  Whoever it is that I end up with, whenever that may be, will agree.

I had my dad reluctantly write this quote in his own unique scripture.  
It was scanned and made into the transfer for my tattoo. 

The Dating Game

Remember when a man used to court a woman?  

He would start up a conversation, compliment her beauty, treat her with respect, and make her feel special.  He would ask her for her number, her house number, and actually call her the next day.  When he picked her up for a date he would get out of the car and greet her at the door, sometimes he would even arrive with flowers, and once at the restaurant he would pull out her chair.  He would dress up for the occasion, and if they were outside later in the evening he would offer his jacket to keep her warm.  He would hold her hand so she would feel safe.  

If all had gone well, by the end of the night he would ask if she would like to go steady.  
He showed he was interested by making her feel like she was the only girl in the entire world.

I do realize that today the old fashioned etiquette seems a little over the top, however, I simply cannot help but wonder how many elderly couples I hear of that are still together, fifty years later.  Clearly, they did something right.
 

These days, you meet someone during a night out of drinking.  They jab your cell phone number into their smartphone and may or may not send you a cavalier text three or four days later.  If they're ‘really good’ they'll even convince you to sleep with them, which is essentially a one way ticket to a whole other relationship.  If you actually manage to win over a guy to the dating stage it goes something like this...

She gets tired of waiting for him to ask her out, so she does it herself.  He responds with some off-hand answer, trying not to seem too interested at once.  She nervously sets up the location and time.  He agrees to meet her there.  She spends copious amounts of time trying to make herself look as impressive as she can, not that he seems to notice.  Once she arrives, the first thing he does is check his phone for messages.  Once seated, she nearly pulls out her own hair trying to keep the conversation going, which is a battle she is never going to win, as they are sitting in the lounge and a very important game is on.  She is no match against the big screens and text messaging.  She goes through the entire evening wondering if he finds her attractive, if he thinks she’s smart, if he finds her job interesting, and if he enjoyed himself.  It’s not like he tells her so.  At the end of the night, he asks if she’d like to come inside.  Both of them know what he is insinuating.  If she says yes then she's in.  If she says no, she worries he will never call again.    

This is not to say that purely men are to blame in this dating shift.  Ladies are placing less emphasis on self-respect and focusing on 'being young' or taking YOLO a little too seriously (thanks, Drake).  Going out for drinks with friends has turned into going out to meet someone else, ditch your friends, and find somewhere new to sleep.

 

Maybe we are just prudes, or maybe we would like to find someone who is more interested in our character than our naked forms.  Being single again is a strange adjustment, with insecurities resurfacing that haven't been an issue for literally years.  Apparently, nowadays there are all of these extra pressures and we don't like them. 
If you like someone- tell them.  If you really aren't that interested- tell them.  If you're unsure about something- ask.  Are we really expecting too much??
Words matter. Conversation matters. Intelligence and respect matter. Expressing affection with words has a far greater impact on a woman than your sexual ability.

 

**Written by three single girls who apparently suck at dating.

"COME HERE" Does Not Mean "RUN AWAY"

Earlier this afternoon, Finn was rewarded with a walk and playdate with his neighbour, Jonas.  All you have to say to Finn is "let's go play with Jonas" and his ears have perched as far as they go on his head and his eyes will have bulged out of their sockets, as he races towards the front door.  Together, with Jonas's mom and sister, we head towards the open field behind our houses.  Now, Finn's lady legs give him an impressive amount of speed, considering his small, odd shape, and you can see his puggle smile from across the field as he chases Jonas, who busies himself by properly fetching a ball.  It was during this lovely afternoon playdate that Finn drove me to the point of insanity. 

As Jonas dropped the ball and waited for it to be thrown again, Finn sniped it off of the ground and ran away with it.  For five minutes...  Ten minutes... Forty minutes... He damn well ruined our walk, as we chased this small animal in circles, trying to get back the ball.  We called his name one hundred times, we told him to 'come' one thousand times, we bribed him with fake cookies, and we showed him his leash as an attempt to distract his focus from sprinting away.  Nothing worked.  I mean nothing, and he ran away from me all the way to our home, dodging traffic as he pleased. 

Not only is it incredibly annoying having a dog that does not listen, but it's embarrassing.

Therefore, I have spent the greater part of my evening googling how to re-train a dog to come, and my findings were quite interesting. 

 

One thing I never really considered was that I have unintentionally been training him to not come when called.  If he ever gets into the garbage it’s always "COME HERE" and then disciplined.  If he gets muddy paws while outside it’s "COME HERE" and he is thrown into the tub.  At the off leash park it’s "COME HERE" and he is put back on his leash.  All of these outcomes, in his eyes, are punishments.  So why would he continue to listen?  Whoops!  I happen to have found some great suggestions on how to correct this issue. 

 

Rule of Thumb:

Wait until the dog is super hungry and motivated for food as a reward.  If he isn't too responsive to food- then wait an hour before trying again.  If the pooch misses a meal completely it is not the end of the world, as you will most likely not allow Sparky to starve to death.  Just keep trying until they are ready to obey.

 

Level One:

Start off by giving the dog a few pieces of their kibble.  Let them get a taste of what they're working for.  Quickly back up a few feet and say "come."  Praise dog with food every time they obey.  Once the dog gets the hang of it, add "sit" after their arrival and briefly hold their collar before giving the food.  To advance even farther, tell the dog to "stay" once they are sitting. Repeat this sequence with every nugget of every meal. If at anytime the dog loses interest, stop the training immediately and don't allow the dog to eat anything else until the next meal and training session.

Level Two:
Once your dog seems to be responding well to the cues, begin thinning out the food reward.  Save them for the dog’s better responses.  Reward with one third of the dog's meal instead of the entire thing.  They should be responding appropriately nearly 100% of the time.

Level Three:
Start doing different exercises between meals, using treats!  When we originally took Finn to dog training (which we clearly did not follow through on), we were taught to use real meat as treats, rather than milk bones.  Finn's personal favourite is liver.  Apparently, the more delicious the treat- the quicker the dog learns.

Exercise Example:
Have a friend come help you out with this one.  Stand a few feet apart from one another, both holding a collection of treats.  One of you will yell for your dog to come, sit, and stay- reward.  Then other person will do the same thing.  The dog will run back and forth between the two of you, learning to obey more than just their owners. 

Again, have some assistance with this one.  Two of you will begin somehwere in the house, taking turned calling the dog to come, sit, and stay.  As the game progresses, slowly drift farther and farther apart from one another.  Eventually, one of you may be upstairs while the other is in the basement.  This exercise appeals to a dog's natural instincts and associates COME with fun!
Now, what I can do next time we decide to head to the field!

Off leash guide:
Use playdates as a reward!  Show the dog that when he stops playing to respond to your call, he will be rewarded with a treat, and can then resume play time!  Perhaps begin with the dog on a long leash or rope.  Call the dog to come and do not take no for an answer.  If the dog ignores your single call, pull them in.  Reward them, and then tell them to play.  This may have to be done quite a few times before they understand that simply coming to see you does not mean play time is over.  When the dog comes easily and without being forced, try the same routine off lease.  If your poock regresses, go back to being on leash.
Well, I guess it is time to put my money where my mouth is! Wish me luck :)

Careful Boys and Girls, Sexting is Trouble

Sexting is the act of sending sexually explicit messages or photographs, primarily between mobile phones.

Six Pennsylvania high school students, three males and three females, are all facing charges for child pornography.  According to MsnBc "The female students... 14 or 15-years-old, face charges of manufacturing, disseminating or possessing child pornography while the boys, who are 16 and 17, face charges of possession..."

Typically, the boyfriend assures his girlfriend that he will keep the photo private; convincing her his friends will never see it.  Once the break up, the boy then sends it out to his friends, thinking he is funny or simply coping with his bitterness.  As many high schools go, once one person sees it- everyone sees it.  Even more often in places like Sherwood Park, it eventually gets around numerous other schools as well. 

Without a young girl taking her photo in the first place, there would be no crime, which is why she becomes not only the victim, but the perpetrator as well.

Police say that the children who are being charged are most likely law-abiding citizens, whom previously have a clean record.

"We have to bear in mind that people taking pictures of themselves and sending them out, they're self-victimizing, but they're not necessarily naive.  These kids have been educated and they know it's unlawful and they're doing it anyway."

Once convicted, you are forced to register as a sexual offender for at least ten years.

Let us not forget the other ways in which photos can be sent these days.  Content sent over the internet can be shared just as easily and to even more places.  Once something is released into cyber space, you never truly get it back. 

If you don't want anyone else to see it- don't send it.

Child pornography is among the fastest growing criminal segments on the Internet.

Keep your clothes on.

Oh my...

I must share this story and I do hope Ziggs does not kill me!  Now, let it be known that Ziggs always gets his haircuts from his sister.  He puts off previous plans made to specifically get his hair cut in the exact same way, time after time.  Today was no different.  We were a little bit pressed for time, as we were coming from dinner and Ziggs had to rush off to ball hockey.  Quickly calling his sister and demanding she suit up for the task ASAP was no big deal.  The only difference was this time I would be tagging along.  We arrive, we say quick hellos, and we make our way to the basement.  His sister is there awaiting his arrival, ready to begin.  I take a seat on the floor with Finn and prepare to watch.  Only something happens that I was not expecting.  

Ziggs gets naked.

I swear he was as naked as a jaybird.  All he had to cover his... essentials was a towel- which might have been the smallest towel ever, without being considered a face cloth.  Nude.  Nakee.  Bare-bottomed.  Au natural.  As my jaw hit the floor, he explained that he simply does not want hair in his shirt, pants, or apparently underwear, because it makes him itchy. Did he consider using the towel/ face cloth around his neck? Nah.  Did he ask his sister to just use a cape?  Didn't think of it.  Stripping down seemed like the obvious, appropriate choice.  Ziggs gets his hair cut in his birthday suit.  So now you know.             

But he seemed so... 'normal'.

Picture in your mind a predator.  Picture someone who sits at home on their computer, in chat rooms for hours, and tricks little girls.  Picture someone who pretends to be a teenager when they aren’t.  Picture someone who would manipulate a little girl into falling in love with someone she’s never met.  Picture someone who would sexually assault a minor. 

What are you picturing?

because a predator can be anyone. 

My dad kept telling me I had to watch this movie.  Persistently.  Insistently. He even went as far as to download it for me, put it on a memory stick, and send me home with it.  Fine Dad, I'll watch it. 

I cried from start to finish.

Every parent on the planet should watch this.  Every parent and their child should watch this and then talk about it.  No parent believes this will happen to their child, but what preventative measures are they taking?

The Abc's of Life

Finally, I have some time off and can get back to my one true love, blogging.  Unfortunately, my creativity has come to a stand still and I cannot think of interesting topics to blog about!  (Suggestions please).  I figure I will blog about what I know.  As I attend my second year of University as a twenty-four year old, I spend my days with friends who are typically five years younger than me.  I love them to death, but often I find myself feeling old.  Looking back, it seems as though those five years were a time of growth that I never realized were even happening, until now.  When I think back to what I knew about life at the age of nineteen, compared to how I view it now, my opinions of the world have changed considerably.  Here is what I know...

A is for Activism 

We have all heard the sayings 'power to the people' and 'be the change you want to see in the world', but how many of us actually act upon them?  Activism is the effort to bring about social, economic, environmental, or political change.  There are countless ways one can be an activist from something as simple as writing letters to newspapers or politicians, sharing a link on your facebook page, or even blogging, to as intense as political campaigning, boycotts, rallies, and street marches or strikes.  If you believe in something and want to make a difference in this world, the only person stopping you is you.

B is for Body

Did you know that eating disorders such as anorexia and bulimia are mental disorders?  Our world has become so consumed with personal image that people are driven to extreme measures to find content with themselves.  Take pride in your body.  You are beautiful the way you are- and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.  Beauty does not mean a size 2, and it cannot be defined by colour, gender, race, or age.  Beauty is confidence in who you are.

C is for Children

I have probably blogged about this before, and chances are I will a hundred more times (considering my career path), but our actions around children are more important than one could possibly understand.  Every single thing we do or say around them influences them in some way or another.  Use your imagination, be creative, act goofy, let them laugh at you, compliment the smallest successes, correct manners, be joy in their life.  Encourage reading and crafts over video games.  Children are ‘growing up’ at younger and younger and ages these days, when all adults wish they could do is be a kid again. 

D is for Dating  

Lord, I could give my opinions on dating for hours.  I supposed the number one rule of thumb: dating is supposed to be fun.  It is funny to see how often people forget that and find themselves in intense relationships full of debate and struggles, yet stay in them.  Why would you want to be with a person who brings you down?  Don’t settle for anything less than the best that you deserve.

E is for Education
Ha!  It has to be said:  do not worry about knowing ‘what you want to be when you grow up’ the second you think you’re growing up.  Explore.  Discover.  Decide.  Change your mind.  What has education taught me?  Who I do and do not want to be.  Education is fun, interesting, and exciting.  GET ONE. 

F is for Family

Your family loves you at your worst and celebrates at your best.  Don’t take them for granted.  There may be times when you are battling to the death with one another, but in the end you will always need them and they will always need you.  It was interesting to see just how much I relied on my family once I stopped living under the same roof.  Too often we take our family for granted, luckily there is always a balance of give and take.

G is for Goals 
Oh my gosh, I am such a goal geek.  I make goals daily, weekly, monthly, yearly.  At some level I am sure we all do- whether we realize it or no.  Setting goals gives you something to work towards and the reward of achievement.  You cannot help but feel proud of yourself after reaching a goal.  Besides, if you aren’t working towards accomplishing something, then what are you doing? 

H is for Home
Nothing feels better than home sweet home.  Whether you live with your parents or on your own; take pride in your home.  You never know how much works goes into the upkeep of a home until you have your own to keep, and let me tell you- it is a LOT. Appreciate it, make it your own, and enjoy your time there.     

I is for Identity
So often I see girls ‘fall in love’ in a few short days and have already given up their identity to someone else.  STOP IT.  The reason people love you is for who you are.  You cannot be afraid to let your true colours shine.  Don't forget who you are to make someone else happy by being what they want you to be.  Be yourself; everybody else is taken.

J is for Judgment
I look back at who I spent time with in High school and how we acted and I literally shudder.  The number of times we sat around talking about our peers and judging their every decision in life was truly sickening.  It came to a point where I just did not want anything to do with some people anymore, because I did not want to be associated with such callous.  Then last night, I was sitting beside a couple of girls I had never met before, and eavesdropped on them negatively talking about all of the people they knew around us.  I could not believe the things they would say about their ‘friends’.  At one point they began talking about one of my friends, and described her in a way I would NEVER have pictured her. I would not have even had known it was her they were describing without hearing the name.  I was seconds away from interrupting them and correcting their shallow views, until I remembered that it is people like this that are simply insignificant to me.  For that, I embrace others’ decisions and as much as possible, put myself in their shoes.  You are not better than someone else, just different.

K is for Keep looking forward
I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed with stress.  I know what it feels like when you cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I know what it feels like to want to quit.  Remember to keep your chin up, things can always get worse, but eventually they end up getting better.  No one can go back in time and make a new beginning, but anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.

L is for Life
I have so much control over what I make of my life. Growing up I had a fairytale view that I would go to college, get a job, be married, have babies, and everything would just unfold as it should.  It has been a rude awakening going to school for the 6^th… 7^th… (?) course I thought I wanted to spend my life doing, not married, no children, and not at all where I thought I would be at twenty-four.  What I have learned?  Do what YOU want to do, travel if the opportunity arises, try something new- even if you don’t really want to.  ‘Live life to the fullest’ is an overused saying that we hear all the time and disregard without a seconds thought.  But seriously- LIVE this LIVE to the FULLEST.  What have you done lately that was exciting?  Laugh more, gripe less, ignore critics, say yes, order dessert, love life.

M is for Money
Ugh I cannot stand talking about money.  I instantly feel my anxiety levels rising, my body temperature rises, and I can feel my heart beat start to race.  When I was younger, I wish someone would have said to me – stop wasting your money on shit: you will need it one day for something that is actually important.  They would have been correct.  Money comes and money goes.  Try not to waste it!  That’s all I will say before my stress level gets so high I pass out.

N is for Never Lie

Nothing grinds my gears like catching someone in the middle of a fib.  I ask you, what the hell is the point?  The truth will most likely come out at some point or another, so you might as well stick with it from the start.  I have an ex-boyfriend who would like about absolutely anything, even what he had for dinner that night.  Look how well that worked out.  Lying will only hurt the person you lied to and yourself in the long run.  Tell the truth and stay honest.

O is for Opportunity

Grab life by the horns!  If life gives you lemons make lemonade!  If an opportunity presents itself to you- say yes!  Sometimes in life we are given chances to try something we may not have otherwise attempted, and we should do it.  Don't sit back and watch life pass you by, you never know what surprises you may find.    

P is for Promise

Be the person that you would want to turn to with your most secretive stories.  If you make a promise: keep it.  Follow through on your word.  A good friend is one we can rely on.  If someone tells you a secret, keep it to your damn self.  If you make a promise you better do you best to keep it.

Q is for Quiet your mind
Take time to yourself everyday.  Even if it is just thirty minutes watching your favourite tv show, make sure you are scheduling time to give your mind a rest.  If not, you will find yourself burning out much faster!I understand working hard and wanting to accomplish as much as you can, but don't forget to take care of yourself in the process.

R is for Read
Nothing beats losing yourself in a good book.  If a book truly captures my attention, literally hours can pass before I set it down and return to reality.  It is healthy for your mind to move into a land of fantasy for a little while, creating new worlds and characters along the way.  Reading books trumps watching movies every time, because the vision we picture can never be duplicated by anyone else.  It is how we interpret what we read and no one can take that away from us.  

S is for Smart 
Honestly, someone starts to hit on you at the bar and one of the first things you think is either 'think one's a dumbass' or 'dang this one's got class'.  Acting like a ditz isn't cute, not knowing how to spell isn't forming your own version of slang, and dropping out of high school was never the cool thing to do.  I once saw a sign at work that said "OUT OF ODOUR".  Seriously?  Using your brain will result with you gaining more credibility, others asking for your assistance, and instill a sense of confidence in you from others.  Smart is sexy, and its the only kind of sexy that lasts.

T is for Talk 

We all have smart phones.  In fact, most of us will never be found without our cell phone within arms reach.  The question is, how often do we actually make a call to SPEAK with another person?  The art of communication is slowly dying, but the most chats with friends are the ones you can hear their voice during.    

U is for Unleash Strengths

Don't hold back!  If you're good at something then do it!  Who cares what society may think of you or if you're given an unfavourable label because of it.  If you have a passion- indulge.  I'm not the greatest blogger of all time but that isn't going to stop me from making more posts.    

V is for Vent 

Most of the people I know need a moment every now and then to vent.  What I have learned?  Venting about someone else via your facebook status is not clever or a sneaky way to take the high road.  It shows off immaturity, gets more people involved than need to be, and honestly just makes your Facebook friends roll their eyes at you.  The number one rule I learned during my MSN years was to NEVER, ever, ever write something that you do not want repeated, printed, forwarded, or copied and pasted to the 'wrong' person.  Vent to someone you can trust, either on the phone or in person.  The entire world does not need to know or care about your daily issues.  It is extremely important to get your troubles off of your chest, but do it like an adult. 

W is for Watch the sunset 

My dad always reminds us that life is made up of moments.  Our lives today are filled from the second we wake up until the minute we lay down in bed.  Often, we forget to stop and appreciate everything we have.  Sitting on my parents deck, enjoying a hot breakfast, discussing what is going on in our lives, and staring out across the lake is one of my favourite ways to spend my summer Sundays.  Taking a moment to sit back and take everything in makes it all the more special.    

X is for xo

Share as much love as you have to give.  The saying 'love as if you've never lost' is very true.  To give all that you can is important because you never know when you might not be able to anymore.  

Y is for Yell less

Ahh, so many people are uptight and high strung these days!  Loosen up!  Life is too short to spend it angry and bitter.  Hell yeah get mad, and then get over it.  It may take longer sometimes but nothing is worth staying so mad at that you cannot function in your day to day life.  If there are people in your life that are constantly bringing you down- stop talking to them so much!

Z is for Zap Negativity

Bring on the joy!  Negativity is contagious and can consume you!  Take negativity out of your life as much as possible.  I know I have the tendency to be a bit of a 'hothead', but I have been consciously trying to take a step back and view a situation in a positive light.  It is amazing how much changing your thoughts can effect your life.

Do you even know what I'm taking in school?

This year, I am in Grant Macewan's Bachelor of Child and Youth Care program.  I had never heard of it before either.  However, if I get asked "oh, so you want to be nanny?" one more time, I will beat the shit out of that person.  No, you do not need four years of education to be a nanny.  Or a babysitter.  Or work in a daycare. 

Child and youth care workers have to receive training in suicide intervention, practice crisis management, understand the Youth Criminal Justice Act, have the ability to do physical interventions and restraints, know the side effects from substance abuse, provide therapeutic counselling, teach behaviour management skills, and provide treatment plans.  We work with children and youth who have been diagnosed with anything from fetal alcohol spectrum disorder, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, and obsessive compulsive disorder, to mental retardation, post-partum depression, bipolar disorders, and schizophrenia (etc, etc, etc.).

Many young people experience neglect, physical abuse, emotional abuse, and sexual abuse. Through mentorship, role-modeling and positive reinforcement, child and youth care workers can help young people and their families overcome these emotional and behavioural problems. Accepting children and youth as they are and not how we wish them to be, and understanding the difference between being a rescuer and a caring professional are key attributes of the child and youth care worker.  We work in a professional environment with high-risk youth and families. 

We deal with being told to fuck ourselves, cleaning crap after it's been smeared over walls, intervening when one is contemplating suicide, and on occasion are even attacked.  We get paid as much as someone who serves coffee because the government does not recognize it as a real profession.  People always say how important it is to help and teach the children of today, as they will be the leaders of tomorrow, but the number of people who have the proper training and abilities to do so is minimal.  It can be viewed as the most emotionally draining, physically demanding, and stressful job in the world.  It is also the most rewarding.  

Any questions?

Awesome cousins of mine- great day playing outside :)
-Every kid is a great kid-