Hear No Evil

I sat waiting for a meeting to start when the woman next to me leaned over and said, “Look at that young man.  He’s wearing hearing aids.”  I glanced at the person she indicated.  “Yes,” I nodded.  “That’s my brother.”

She was visibly embarrassed so I continued, “I have a hearing loss too.  It’s hereditary.  We got it from our dad, who got it from his mom, who got it from her dad – and we don’t know how far back it goes.”  This educated woman seemed very surprised to know that someone with a hearing loss could speak normally.

Why do auditory impairments seem to be considered a worse disability than vision problems?  I mean, I’ve never encountered someone leaning over to say, “Psst!  Look at that person wearing glasses!”

Are glasses more “acceptable” than hearing aids because they’re more common?  Or because they’re hundreds of dollars less expensive?  Or because glasses have evolved into stylish accessories whereas hearing aids are rather limited in the fashion arena?

Two of my children just got new hearing aids.  One needs them more than the other, but the eldest has wisely decided she’d prefer to miss as little as possible when starting at a new school.  They’ve discovered something we would all do well to remember:  The disability is NOT the wearing of glasses or hearing aids.  It’s the being unable to see or hear properly.

I have a high-frequency loss which means I read lips, I can’t hear whispering, and high sounds drive me crazy (like a dog?).  When I tried hearing aids a few years ago, I realized just how loud my kids, hardwood floors, sirens, silverware, and water can be!  So until the things I really want to hear outnumber the things I don’t want to hear, I think I’ll continue the way I am.

Mosquito Madness

I’m melting!  I just hope I can get this article written before I’m reduced to a puddle under my desk.

I’m also scratching.  The only place worse than the ankle for a mosquito bite, I think, is the instep of the foot.  Or the palm of the hand.  Or the eyelid.  Come to think of it, I guess there really isn’t any good place from which to have my blood sucked.

My dad isn’t a cursing man, but mosquitoes have brought him to the brink.  I remember him setting up citronella candles and other burning buckets and coils that were placed strategically around the campsite – defying any and all mosquitoes to attempt entry.  I’m surprised he didn’t have us tie dryer sheets to our belts.

Unfortunately, I’ve inherited my dad’s mosquito-enticing blood and my mom’s aversion to heat.  Sweltering days sap my energy and give me headaches, so I prefer to go outside in the cool mornings and evenings.  But the moment I step outside, those menacing mosquitoes are there waiting for me.

Since I can’t stand the smell of spray-on bug repellant (thank you, asthma), I’m pretty much stuck inside on humid summer evenings.  I guess it’s time to plant citronella around my house and buy a mosquito magnet.  Do those things actually work?  Thankfully, I have an enclosed deck that allows me to feel as though I’m outside while reaping the benefits of screened protection.

There are some things I love about summer:  the lazier days, bright flowers, sun-ripened fruit, refreshing dips in the lake, and not having to carry a shovel in my trunk.

But those mosquitoes have got to go.

Watchful Citizens

Last week a friend of mine posted on Facebook that there had been an abduction a few blocks from her home in Fort McMurray.  Roads were closed, police out in full force.

The next day another friend posted that HE was the one the police were looking for.  He had been on the way to the park with his two children when it started to rain.  His autistic son began to scream and run, so he gave chase with his 4-year-old daughter on his shoulders.  Someone heard the screams and saw the man running with a little girl on his shoulders – and came to the wrong conclusion.

Some think this story is hilarious.  I have mixed feelings about it.  Of course I can see the humourous side and I’m thankful it has a happy ending, but I find it rather alarming that an entire city was disrupted and the police’s time wasted because of a misunderstanding that could have been avoided if the witness had spent a few more seconds to understand what was really going on.

On one hand I want to say “thank you” for watching and helping to keep our children safe.  It’s nice to know people are willing to step in and be good Samaritans and pro-active bystanders.

On the other hand, sometimes I wonder if we are too quick to assume the worst of parents and others – labeling them neglectful or abusive without any real understanding of what’s actually going on.  As in my friend’s case, how many innocent situations are being turned into dramatic, traumatizing ones?

But speaking of traumatic events, I’m sure nothing could be as awful as having a child kidnapped, so let’s continue to be watchful citizens, using our brains and our intuition to keep our neighbourhoods safe.

Preparation Paranoia

Several months ago when the power went out unexpectedly, I realized how much I rely on electricity.  Without it, the food in my fridge goes bad, my house gets cold, I walk into walls in the darkness, and I have no entertainment or information by way of computer and television.

Besides losing electricity, other types of “disruptions” could place us in various states of emergency.  Forest fires heading our way, heavy rains and flooding, tornados, ice storms, droughts, and even terrorist attacks.

Each type of disaster requires slightly different preparation.  A speedy evacuation would require grab-and-go, 72-hour-kits that include identification, toiletries, extra money, and a change of clothes.  Flooding could necessitate having clean, bottled drinking water on hand.  Severe winter storms that knock out power would require alternative heat sources such as wood stoves or generators.

Often when a natural disaster strikes, neighbouring communities reach out to help.  But what if they couldn’t get to us quickly or there was a wide-spread disaster like an EMP?  Would we have adequate supplies – food, water, fuel, medical supplies, toiletries, etc. – on hand so we could hunker down and be okay in our homes?

Lately, “hoarders” have been getting a bad rap on TV, but there is a big difference between carefully planning, storing, and rotating emergency supplies and actual hoarding.  It makes sense to store at least 3 days of food and water in our homes, and preferably even more.

Lord Baden-Powell was on to something when he declared “Be Prepared” as the Boy Scouts of America’s motto.  It’s good advice for all.  Any type of preparation (getting an education, having a savings account, carrying a spare tire, practicing fire drills, attending a prenatal class) reduces stress and worry.  It’s not paranoia to be prepared; it’s preparation that keeps the fear away.

Synchronized Sleeping

Kids are awesome.  So awesome, in fact, that I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself when my youngest leaves home in about 18 years.

Well, I do know one thing I plan to do.  Sleep.  The whole night through.  Without interruptions.  Won’t that be blissful?  Unless, of course, I’ve forgotten how to sleep by then.

I do get uninterrupted sleep occasionally – like when the planets are on the same side of the sun or something.  But that doesn’t happen very often.

It’s not my baby’s fault.  He’s a pretty good sleeper when he’s not sick or teething.  It’s my nocturnal preschooler who keeps me up late then climbs into our bed a few hours later, kicking my husband downstairs to sleep in the spare room.

Even when we all manage to synchronize the timing of our shut-eye, the sleeping habits of seven people don’t always mesh.  One of my children sleep-talks.  The other night she sat up in bed and yelled, “Who wants ice-cream?”  At least she’s friendly.  We also have a few snorers, a teeth-grinder, and the bed-roaming preschooler who prefers to sleep perpendicular while offering regular swift kicks to the head and stomach.

If you don’t have young children at home, please be kind to those of us who show up late with bleary eyes and tousled hair.  Just be thankful we’re there – with pants on.

And if you’re a new parent, take heed to the counsel “Sleep when your baby sleeps”.  Unless you luck out like my sister did and get children who sleep for 12 hours straight, it may be the last time in a while that you get to enjoy synchronized sleeping.