Tanis's Tips For Surviving the Great White North. Volume 1

There are few creatures out here in the land of the sticks where I call home that strike fear into my heart like no other.

The scariest of course, is the creature commonly referred to as the 'teenager.' This particular animal is most fearsome first thing in the morning when it stumbles out of it's den with bed head and morning breath so vile it can literally strip paint.

Prone to either excessive personal grooming or a complete absence of any personal hygiene (they never just fall in the middle; you're either assaulted by body odour and greasy hair or choked out by the cloying scent of cheap body spray and an overabundance of blue eyeliner) the teenager will empty your pantry in less time than it takes to blink. Teenagers enjoy marking their territory with flatulence and eye rolling. A trail of empty milk jugs and candy wrappers usually follows in their wake.

One must never leave sweets unattended in the presence of a teenage creature. It encourages delinquency.


If a particularly feral teenager crosses your path one must be sure to never let it assume dominance over you. The best course of action is to puff up your chest, look them dead in the eye and threaten to withhold all electronic privileges until the teen creature becomes passive. If that doesn't work, threatening to cut off all toilet paper supplies generally does the trick.

Occasionally a teenager will attempt to lure you into a false sense of security with handcrafted cutting boards and other assorted gifts made in shop class. Never succumb to the bribery.


While the teenager is a particularly surly creature faced on a daily basis, up here in the sticks of the northern nowhereville, there is one lesser-known creature that can strike fear into the hearts of churlish teens everywhere.

Commonly referred to as the skunk, this cat-like animal currently lives under the bedroom window of a particularly cranky teenager.

The skunk, sensing the malodor of the teen creature feels quite at home, picking through the improperly secured trash bags the teen has lazily dragged outside. When the skunk isn't scattering trash across the front lawn of an innocent homeowner, it likes to hide underneath the front deck, waiting for an opportune time to strike.

The teen, sensing the proximity of the scary skunk creature, will yelp in fear, hide in it's bedroom and threaten to never come out of it's den unless the skunk has been relocated.

The skunk, noticing the teen has scattered pet food at random on the deck instead of carefully pouring the kibble into a proper receptacle will be lured to the front door where it will lift it's tail and release it's pungent odor, spraying everything in it's path, including the teen's new expensive sneakers which were thoughtlessly left out on the deck, as well as the family dog.

If one discovers a skunk on the premises one must beg, cajole, nag and whine until one's husband has it removed. The consequences are too smelly otherwise.


At this point, the teenager will become highly irritable as the fragrant skunk odor seeps into every area of the house and is completely inescapable. When the teen notices their shoes are ruined and the dog is contaminated, doors may be slammed and loud music may be played in an effort to drown out any pleas of help a parent may ask for.

One must hold firm in demanding the teen's assistance in dealing with the skunk debacle and if the music is not turned down one can always let the smelly family pet into the house, open the teen's bedroom door, encourage the dog to roll around in the teen's bedding and then wait for the teen to flee their now invaded and heavily scented space.

There are remarkable similarities between two of Nature's smelliest creatures, the skunk and the teenager. Both animals can make your tears water and your nose drip with its pungent fragrance. Both creatures live in dark little dens, surrounded by its own filth. Both will willingly consume whatever trash you put in front of it, although one more literally than the other. Neither animal can be tamed.

If one crosses paths with either fearsome strange animal the wisest course of action is to avoid direct eye contact and avoid startling the animal. Move slowly and cautiously away until one is out of the danger zone.

In the event of an attacking teenager, tossing iTunes cards at them generally will satisfy their carnal urges and keep you physically safe. In the event of a skunk attack, avoid the tomato juice and head straight to the lemon juice, vinegar, baking soda and dish soap. Also handy is a husband who only moments earlier walked in the door after being absent for almost two straight months as he can hold the family pet down while you scrub it and keep the teenager on a short leash as it loses it's mind from having skunk-sprayed sneakers.

It can be a dangerous place living in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wildlife, but with these handy tips your world can be made a little safer and a little less smelly.

In the next edition of Surviving the Great White North: The hidden dangers of lurking porcupine, moose and beaver. They aren't as innocent as cartoonists would have you believe.

Heartsickness

I had an entire week of silliness planned for my blog (because often what I post is just plain silly) after taking last week off to spend quality time with my husband after not laying eyes on him for 54 days.

Humour is what gets me through the darkest patches of my life, when my throat constricts from the pain of remembering I've lost a child or when life seems too overwhelming from raising a medically fragile disabled child, or from simply wanting to lose my mind from parenting three children by myself.

A dumb joke, even one written by me, helps lift the heaviness of life from my shoulders.

But I can't find the funny today. It evaporated into the sky filled with smoke as my province is ablaze with forest fires.

As of this morning there were 116 forest fires in Alberta, with 34 of them raging out of control. An entire town was destroyed when an out of control blaze split in two, circled the town and burned everything in it's path, destroying most of it's infrastructure.

Grabbed from Twitter, Photo Credit Chantal Tkatch


Not too far away, thousands of oil workers were evacuated from their temporary camps due to another blaze threatening to swallow everything in its path.

My husband said the sky outside his window looks like a tribute to Halloween, all orange and black.

Natural disasters threaten human life almost every day. Japan, America, Canada and every other country on the planet at some time or another sees tornados, flooding, drought, tsunamis, fire, ice storms and everything else Mother Nature can think to throw at us. Those of us who are lucky are insulated from it, safe in our homes as we watch with horror the images flashing across our television screens, thankful it's not us being evacuated or endangered due to disasters.

But this disaster, these fires, they are touching my life. Directly and indirectly. While my home, where my children and I reside is far from the path of the flames and safely out of danger, my friends' homes aren't so lucky. My readers' homes aren't so lucky. Relatives of mine have lost everything.

Photo credit: Michael Leonard / MyNews.CTV.ca


An entire town incinerated within hours, with no warning because the wind carried the flames at 100 kilometers an hour.

It could have been my house.

It could be yours.

So I'm taking this moment to think of the people who are affected by natural disasters everywhere, not just here in Alberta, but elsewhere too and I'm remembering how lucky I am when so many others are not.

Tomorrow I'll be silly. Today I'm too heartsick to find the funny.

*For Information on loved ones in Slave lake call the Red Cross at 1-800-565-4483. For those who want to donate to the relief efforts head here.*

Learning How To Dream Big

You would never know it to see me now but I was once a serious athlete. Bookcases and walls were lined with my prizes, filled with the shiny trophies of a youth spent sweating my way towards a finish line or a gold medal.

I spent as much time as I could running from my demons and shooting towards my dreams, as the hours in a day would allow. Sports weren't just for fun; they were my passion.

And then, a blown knee, a bad back and a baby (or two) and suddenly my dreams of standing on a podium, accepting a medal on behalf of my country scattered like gold fish flakes in a fish bowl.

My days as a contender were over but my dreams never died. I'm still the girl that sits in front of the television, watching athletes chasing their dreams while envisioning my own.

Luckily for me, having children birthed a new dream. Being a soccer mom has its privileges other than just sitting on a wet field on a cold spring day as you watch other people's children pick their noses. I may not be able to win any more medals of my own, but darn if I can't cheer loudly on the sidelines as my children win some of their own.

When Fric and Frac first toddled about, getting their feet under them, I naturally wondered if they would be athletes, scholars, or both. Would they jump as high as their daddy? Run as fast as me?

As it turns out they can out run, out jump and out think both their father and I. Which makes for good times on family sports night but not so fun times when they are hiding my cookies.

Ahem.

Part of the beauty of raising children is knowing your children are a package of endless possibilities and dreams all neatly bundled in a wee body that occasionally flushes legos down your toilet and refuses to eat anything green.

When I gave birth to Shale, I worried those dreams wouldn't appear. It took me a while to learn how to parent a child with special needs and it took me even longer to learn how to dream for him.

I was firmly mired in the muck of the reality of having a child that was differently-abled than my older children. Shale didn't do anything I hoped his siblings would do but he ended up doing everything he wasn't supposed to.

He sat. He walked. He learned to toddle in a graceless waddle that for him was a sprint. He thrived.

The same way his younger brother Jumby is now doing.

With every milestone and accomplishment both my younger boys made and will make, it inspires me to re-learn how to dream big for them again.

He could have been a contender.


These boys of mine, both Shale and Jumby have taught me to think bigger and be better and to know that it is possible to dare to dream big dreams for them.

They have earned those big dreams and they deserve them, the same as their older siblings.

I've learned having special needs children doesn't mean being ruled by limitations. It means learning how to dream bigger and finding ways to make those dreams come true. From dreams as small as learning how to swallow without choking to dreams as big as becoming an Olympic athlete.

One foot after another, he's chasing his dreams.


So when I was asked if I wanted to write about the Special Olympics, as part of a paid sponsorship for Procter & Gamble's Proud Sponsors of Moms program, it was a no brainer. I'm a mom, I love sports and I love any program that helps adults of all abilities make their dreams of winning a shiny medal come true.

As a longtime supporter of the Special Olympics (31 years and counting), Procter & Gamble is stepping up to the proverbial plate and helping the moms of  Special Olympic athletes with a huge chunk of change (quarter! million! dollars!) that will support local programs and services. They're also a sponsor of Team USA at the Special Olympics, taking place in Athens June 25 till July 4.

For every person who fans the Thank You, Mom Facebook page or leaves a comment, P&G will donate $1 to support Special Olympics Team USA's journey to Athens—up to $250,000 above their other contribution. That's a lot of dough that will help a lot of athletes and their moms.

(I won't deny I hope this program is a smashing success so P&G will sponsor Team Canada for future Special Olympics. Because our beaver loving, maple-tastic team of athletes and their moms needs all the love and sponsorship it can get too. So go click over to Facebook. Do it for the athletes. Do it for the moms.)

This summer, as the Special Olympics rage on, you know where I'll be. Sitting beside my children, watching these athletes chase their dreams, just the way I once dreamed of chasing mine.

Only this time, as I'm watching I'll know I played a part in helping make the magic possible for some of these athletes and their families.  I hope you will too.