Canadians aren’t having enough babies, according to Stats Canada. We need to rely on an eager immigration program to keep our numbers up.
Not all Canadians are abstaining from child-raising — statistics indicate lower income families (and the poorest single women) are in fact reproducing at a more than sufficient pace. But when it comes to the people the government and economists say should be encouraged to have kids — educated, financially stable and working Canadians — the figures show a decline.
If this trend continues, we’ll have more poor and fewer wealthy to support them. This, my friends, is not a good forecast. Something needs to change — but that something is a complex issue, and not one I imagine will budge unless serious and drastic steps are taken.
There was a good and thought-provoking editorial in the Ottawa Citizen a few months back that dealt with the issue of Canadian birth rates. The more productive, prosperous Canadians aren’t reproducing nearly enough, the columnist explained, while the poorest Canadians are increasing in numbers like nobody’s business. How they (or social services) will support these children is another issue — one the column didn’t really address. (and that very worthwhile and controversial rant is one for another day.)
This afternoon, I want to focus on the former issue, that of the career-minded, professional Canadian women and her lack of baby making.
This issue is a hot-button issue, and no matter how hard one might try, it’s impossible to discuss it effectively without crossing the politically correct line a time or two. But as a 20-something female of this great country, I am hereby authorizing myself to cross it.
See, I am one of those educated and increasingly financially-stable, working Canadian women who *should* be getting ready to have a baby in a few years. But sorry, Mom, it ain’t gonna happen. For several reasons. And for once, I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in my thinking.
First, there’s money. It costs money to buy diapers, feed extra mouths, and finance all the other stuff parents need to finance. In this materialistic and costly world we live in, it isn’t easy for people in their 20s to comfortably state “yes, I have enough money to finance a life.” Personally, I feel the need to buy a house and make some payments before taking that step. And then there’s the issue of work: will my employer finance maternity leave? I’m on a contract, so no way. And while my partner is full time and working on a federal government project, he doesn’t get any real benefits to speak of. If we were to become pregnant, we’d be in trouble.
Second reason babies are not the best idea that has crossed my mind in recent days is the simple fact that motherhood can sabotage an otherwise promising career. As a fairly recent grad, I am still at the bottom of the corporate totem pole. I have a ways left to climb, and if I were to suddenly find myself up the duff, I’d likely find myself back at square one in 9 months time.
In many industries, child bearing can nullify years spent climbing the corporate ladder. If you’re in a high-power role, you can’t just disappear for a year or two to pop jr. out — your company will notice you’re gone. Temporary replacement? Sure — but that costs the company both time and money. Suddenly the decision to hire a female sales VP doesn’t look like such a great idea. Female employees become more expensive, and less desirable.
A friend of mine has a toddler and admits she will have a second sometime soon — but that soon is going to have to wait. Why? Her employer just spent $7000 to train her, and she feels obligated to complete the term she’s committed to (two years) before announcing her need for time off to become a mummy a second time.
And you know what? I don’t think she made the wrong decision. In the grand scheme of things, it is the responsible choice: if she were to “accidentally” find herself pregnant a year into her two-year contract, how pleased would her employer be? And more importantly, how likely would they be to give the position to a women a second time? Like it or not, the reality would be the memory of “said-she-would-but-ditched-half-way-through” would be fresh in the minds of whoever was hiring for the position during round two.
Women have a responsibility to one another to not exploit our gender. In the same way we don’t call in sick every month citing “cramps,” we have to hold our own. My friend knows this. Add to it that she works in a male-dominated industry, and the pressure to succeed and prove herself (and her fellow female colleagues) as worthy and very-worthwhile employees becomes even more present.
Should she have to choose between work and her family? Of course not. But as she told me herself, “It isn’t fair, but we don’t live in a fair world.” She has accepted the situation for what it is, and has acted accordingly.
Will her fertility hold out? Who knows. Hopefully. But that magic number— 35 — will be in the rear view mirror after the two-year term is complete. Despite the popular proclamation that “35 is the new 25,” fertility doesn’t listen to societal trends. But it’s a risk my friend is willing to take — but the possibility of fertility or other problems must linger somewhere in the back of her mind.
This woman is a shining example of balance, having been able to, along with her husband, successfully negotiate the scale between work and raising a family. But others aren’t so lucky.
Some women have made the decision not to have children. And that’s totally fine — there are fewer more personal decisions one can make (and respect). But why all of a sudden do we not want kids?
The simplified answer is we’re selfish: we want to live a social life, the ability to travel to exotic locales, and to not have to commit to much. Freedom is big right now — financial freedom, personal freedom, whatever. But beyond these lifestyle choices, women are also putting work before family, figuring kids simply are not a desirable option — and if that option is exercised, life (and work) will become significantly more difficult.
I asked the columnist who wrote the Citizen editorial about birthrates what he thought about the issue, and he told me an interesting story. He said when he went to his university reunion, of all his graduating class — which enjoyed a 50/50 male/female split — only 2 or 3 of the women had started a family. The other women just didn’t want children, he said.
That made me think.
Did they not want kids, or did they just know they couldn’t; that it would be self-inflicted professional sabotage, so they subconsciously removed kids from the list of possibilities?
I don’t know for sure, and there’s no real way to know. I’m not a psychologist, sociologist, or any sort of statistical magician. But the fact that a lot of smart women are choosing not to have kids is not a coincidence —and unless we figure out a way to encourage working moms to be just that (without causing massive economic slowdowns or industry backlash) the trend will continue.
Monday
Not coming down for a while, apparently...
So lesson #76 for the year 2007: nearly two months after giving up tea and still living the coffee-free life means that one cannot drink the better part of a 2L cola and expect to go to bed at a reasonable hour.
Work in the morning does not matter, nor do the things you planned on doing before heading to the office.
Instead, you will find yourself rediscovering former co-workers you forgot you once had on facebook at 2 a.m.
Not that I'd know or anything...
Work in the morning does not matter, nor do the things you planned on doing before heading to the office.
Instead, you will find yourself rediscovering former co-workers you forgot you once had on facebook at 2 a.m.
Not that I'd know or anything...
Sunday
Raw food = Slow food
I admit, I love to cook. I am kind of obsessed with food and yes, I’ve been called a restaurant snob. I try to eat well, but I admit, I’m not always that exciting. I tend to eat the same things again and again, day in and day out. The work lunch is very predictable: homemade soup, carrots, an apple, and some crackers or yogurt. 4 days out of 5, it’s the same soup. But there’s a reason: it’s tasty.
Keeping this in mind, I’ve recently been taking steps to change. I’ve gone though my cookbooks and made a collection of recipes I want to try. And yes, I’ve tried a lot of them already. Some have flopped and others were great and will be revisited. New cookbooks are currently en route from India, too (I wanted some good, authentic Indian recipes; none of this North Americanized, watered down curry BS). Another thing I’ve been doing: trying the recipes from the paper’s food section.
One of these sections a few weeks back was on a new movement called Raw Food. Raw foodies are extreme vegans. Now, granted vegans are pretty extreme on their own, but these raw food vegans take the extremism to a whole new level. Vegans don’t eat any meat or fish, and won’t touch anything that comes from an animal in it: no milk or eggs or cheese, and nothing with any animal byproducts in it. The next level, the raw level, is no cooking.
Cooking destroys many of the vitamins and nutrients in food, this is a fact. It’s no secret that microwaving essentially obliterates the goodness of veggies and ther foods, but cooking — on a stove or in an oven — also weakens the nutritional punch of foods.
So raw foodies don’t cook anything. That’s why it’s called raw, genius.
The raw food movement here in Ottawa is being led by a woman whose name escapes me right now, but it doesn’t matter. She runs simplyraw.ca and gives cooking (um, vegetable slicing, pureeing, and chopping?) classes/detox workshops as well.
Those who prescribe to the raw food regime dehydrate some things, including their pancakes, which take 8 hours to make (nothing like getting up at 3 a.m. to start breakfast). But even when dehydrating isn’t necessary, raw food can take a long time.
A lot of the recipes I use (the ones that require traditional cooking) take a while. And I’m patient, since I love cooking and know the time is well-invested. But the raw meal I made tonight was just silly.
I made “living lasagna.” I used my fancy new mandoline slicer to trim zucchini into lasagna noodle-thin noodles (you can’t use regular noodles in raw food: they’ve been processed, and require, um, cooking) and made my tomato sauce from scratch using my hand blender to puree everything.
Since raw foodies are vegan and therefore don’t eat cheese, I followed the instructions to make a ricotta substitute out of cashews and pine nuts. The nuts had to soak for 2-4 hours before being pureed along with salt, some oil, and lemon juice into a ricotta-like paste.
I also chopped mushrooms and peppers, and minced leaves of fresh spinach and basil into a beautiful and fragrant mélange.
The reason I tried this recipe was three fold: I wanted to try something new, I like vegetables and healthy eating, and the regime came highly recommended from both a cousin of mine who took a raw food workshop a few months ago and the paper’s food critic.
I started soaking the nuts at 2 p.m. The sundried tomatoes started their bath at four. And at six, I started getting ready to put it all together. To be fair, let’s say I started at 6:30. Two hours of chopping, mincing, slicing, and pureeing later, I had my lasagna. I couldn’t believe it took that long to put the damn thing together — and I made a half recipe! That’s just crazy. I’d hate to think how long it’d take if I had to cook it, too.
I guess this fast paced life of mine has made me impatient. I like to have my meals quick. 30 minutes? Perfect. And hour? Hmm, ok, if I didn’t have to work late. But two hours for a cold meal? Come on.
I didn’t bother eating it. I put it in the fridge to sit and marinate and hopefully become tasty overnight. I wanted a hot dinner, so I boiled some veggie dogs, which were just fine. Not “bright” tasting (as the previously mentioned food critic sang as he praised the raw food) but they hit the spot.
I’ll let you know if the living lasagna turned out to be a disaster. But I doubt it will. I’ve already tried the “rawsome apple crumble” (which was so-so, but I didn’t use dates, as it suggested, and I think that’s why) and am totally sold on the marinated kale salad (massaged with salt and lemon juice to make it wilt and become easy to eat), which is great with diced yellow peppers, cherry tomatoes, and its dressing of avocado, celery, soy sauce and lemon juice).
I honestly wish I had more time to dedicate to nutrition. There is so much to research and explore… so many recipes waiting to be discoveres, so many tastes just waiting to be experienced. I think I could easily become obese in a very short time if I didn’t have a day job to distract me from this part-time obsession of mine.
Mind you, if all recipes took as long as the living lasagna, I’d be dead before I got through all of them. But then again, maybe not. Healthy eating (and moderate, not over-eating) leads to longevity, they say. Perhaps those crazy raw vegans are onto something.
Keeping this in mind, I’ve recently been taking steps to change. I’ve gone though my cookbooks and made a collection of recipes I want to try. And yes, I’ve tried a lot of them already. Some have flopped and others were great and will be revisited. New cookbooks are currently en route from India, too (I wanted some good, authentic Indian recipes; none of this North Americanized, watered down curry BS). Another thing I’ve been doing: trying the recipes from the paper’s food section.
One of these sections a few weeks back was on a new movement called Raw Food. Raw foodies are extreme vegans. Now, granted vegans are pretty extreme on their own, but these raw food vegans take the extremism to a whole new level. Vegans don’t eat any meat or fish, and won’t touch anything that comes from an animal in it: no milk or eggs or cheese, and nothing with any animal byproducts in it. The next level, the raw level, is no cooking.
Cooking destroys many of the vitamins and nutrients in food, this is a fact. It’s no secret that microwaving essentially obliterates the goodness of veggies and ther foods, but cooking — on a stove or in an oven — also weakens the nutritional punch of foods.
So raw foodies don’t cook anything. That’s why it’s called raw, genius.
The raw food movement here in Ottawa is being led by a woman whose name escapes me right now, but it doesn’t matter. She runs simplyraw.ca and gives cooking (um, vegetable slicing, pureeing, and chopping?) classes/detox workshops as well.
Those who prescribe to the raw food regime dehydrate some things, including their pancakes, which take 8 hours to make (nothing like getting up at 3 a.m. to start breakfast). But even when dehydrating isn’t necessary, raw food can take a long time.
A lot of the recipes I use (the ones that require traditional cooking) take a while. And I’m patient, since I love cooking and know the time is well-invested. But the raw meal I made tonight was just silly.
I made “living lasagna.” I used my fancy new mandoline slicer to trim zucchini into lasagna noodle-thin noodles (you can’t use regular noodles in raw food: they’ve been processed, and require, um, cooking) and made my tomato sauce from scratch using my hand blender to puree everything.
Since raw foodies are vegan and therefore don’t eat cheese, I followed the instructions to make a ricotta substitute out of cashews and pine nuts. The nuts had to soak for 2-4 hours before being pureed along with salt, some oil, and lemon juice into a ricotta-like paste.
I also chopped mushrooms and peppers, and minced leaves of fresh spinach and basil into a beautiful and fragrant mélange.
The reason I tried this recipe was three fold: I wanted to try something new, I like vegetables and healthy eating, and the regime came highly recommended from both a cousin of mine who took a raw food workshop a few months ago and the paper’s food critic.
I started soaking the nuts at 2 p.m. The sundried tomatoes started their bath at four. And at six, I started getting ready to put it all together. To be fair, let’s say I started at 6:30. Two hours of chopping, mincing, slicing, and pureeing later, I had my lasagna. I couldn’t believe it took that long to put the damn thing together — and I made a half recipe! That’s just crazy. I’d hate to think how long it’d take if I had to cook it, too.
I guess this fast paced life of mine has made me impatient. I like to have my meals quick. 30 minutes? Perfect. And hour? Hmm, ok, if I didn’t have to work late. But two hours for a cold meal? Come on.
I didn’t bother eating it. I put it in the fridge to sit and marinate and hopefully become tasty overnight. I wanted a hot dinner, so I boiled some veggie dogs, which were just fine. Not “bright” tasting (as the previously mentioned food critic sang as he praised the raw food) but they hit the spot.
I’ll let you know if the living lasagna turned out to be a disaster. But I doubt it will. I’ve already tried the “rawsome apple crumble” (which was so-so, but I didn’t use dates, as it suggested, and I think that’s why) and am totally sold on the marinated kale salad (massaged with salt and lemon juice to make it wilt and become easy to eat), which is great with diced yellow peppers, cherry tomatoes, and its dressing of avocado, celery, soy sauce and lemon juice).
I honestly wish I had more time to dedicate to nutrition. There is so much to research and explore… so many recipes waiting to be discoveres, so many tastes just waiting to be experienced. I think I could easily become obese in a very short time if I didn’t have a day job to distract me from this part-time obsession of mine.
Mind you, if all recipes took as long as the living lasagna, I’d be dead before I got through all of them. But then again, maybe not. Healthy eating (and moderate, not over-eating) leads to longevity, they say. Perhaps those crazy raw vegans are onto something.
What the country really needs: A Canadian Correspondents’ Dinner
Ah, the annual correspondents’ dinner. How I would love to one day attend. Each year we hear the awkward details and try to imagine what it must have been like. The president cracks jokes at his own expense and rubs shoulders with some of his fiercest critics: the media. But they share a meal and at the end of the evening, everyone is left with a warm fuzzy feeling inside (ok, several cocktails help being on this feeling… but who cares how we get there, as long as we get there).
So why doesn’t Canada have one of these babies? I think we could really use an event like the correspondents’ dinner in Ottawa. I think the city — nation, even — would be a better place for it.
Now I know this will never happen, as long as Stephen Harper is at 24 Sussex. After all, he and his administration has shut more doors to reporters than any other PM’s office that any reporter on the hill can remember.
Still, I think it would do wonders for his public image. Right now the PM is more like an angry dad than a confident leader of a democratic country. He’s grouchy and yells all the time, and when someone asks a tough question (dad, can I have $20 to go to the movies?) he disappears. (go ask your mother? Who’s that? Equally PMS-y John Baird? Or is mum the far more feminine but still confusing and rife with mixed messages Stéphane Dion?).
How would Stephen act in a correspondents’ dinner-like setting? It would be interesting. He’s got a great team of speech writers so I’m sure they could work out an agreeable routine. This year President Bush cracked a good one about the dinner from the year before, when his approval rating was at 30% and his vice president had just shot someone. Those we the good old days, he quipped.
Harper wouldn’t be able to do that, because if he would acknowledge that he’s been in office for over a year, he’d have to stop referring to his team as “Canada’s new government” (scroll down to see my previous rant on the overuse of that phrase) and might realize that after more than a year’s time in office, he really can’t keep blaming the Liberals for everything.
Still, I think a Canadian correspondents’ dinner would be a good move for Harper. And if he doesn’t surprise me and start throwing a good party, maybe the next administration will. Sadly, I’m not going to hold my breath or bet on it. I think our country’s political leaders are so paranoid and stale, it just won’t happen. Unless the country goes to hell and Belinda Stronach somehow winds up PM. Lord knows she loves the spotlight, and sure can throw a party.
So why doesn’t Canada have one of these babies? I think we could really use an event like the correspondents’ dinner in Ottawa. I think the city — nation, even — would be a better place for it.
Now I know this will never happen, as long as Stephen Harper is at 24 Sussex. After all, he and his administration has shut more doors to reporters than any other PM’s office that any reporter on the hill can remember.
Still, I think it would do wonders for his public image. Right now the PM is more like an angry dad than a confident leader of a democratic country. He’s grouchy and yells all the time, and when someone asks a tough question (dad, can I have $20 to go to the movies?) he disappears. (go ask your mother? Who’s that? Equally PMS-y John Baird? Or is mum the far more feminine but still confusing and rife with mixed messages Stéphane Dion?).
How would Stephen act in a correspondents’ dinner-like setting? It would be interesting. He’s got a great team of speech writers so I’m sure they could work out an agreeable routine. This year President Bush cracked a good one about the dinner from the year before, when his approval rating was at 30% and his vice president had just shot someone. Those we the good old days, he quipped.
Harper wouldn’t be able to do that, because if he would acknowledge that he’s been in office for over a year, he’d have to stop referring to his team as “Canada’s new government” (scroll down to see my previous rant on the overuse of that phrase) and might realize that after more than a year’s time in office, he really can’t keep blaming the Liberals for everything.
Still, I think a Canadian correspondents’ dinner would be a good move for Harper. And if he doesn’t surprise me and start throwing a good party, maybe the next administration will. Sadly, I’m not going to hold my breath or bet on it. I think our country’s political leaders are so paranoid and stale, it just won’t happen. Unless the country goes to hell and Belinda Stronach somehow winds up PM. Lord knows she loves the spotlight, and sure can throw a party.
Honk if you`re...
If you’re female, you know the scenario. You’re walking down the sidewalk and a vehicle drives by and honks. What the hell, you wonder. Was it a friend of mine? Was it some desperate guy who liked what he saw? Or was the driver so paranoid that they thought they’d honk, just to make sure I didn’t leap off the sidewalk and onto the roadway as they passed? Do I look suicidal?
I just don’t get it. If you know me, stop and say hi, or call me later.
And if you’re one of those lonely guys, get a life. And by get a life, I don’t mean honk at random women. Trust me, you won’t meet your soul mate during a 65 Kmph drive-by.
I am genuinely confused. What are these men thinking? Girls will excitedly catapult their phone numbers into the flatbed of their pick-up truck as it zooms off? Flash them as they drive off into the distance? Get real.
And don’t worry, grandpa, I’m not a jumper. But if you’re really and truly concerned, slow down a little.
My first experience with this phenomenon was back in my teens. Remember, I grew up in a small town so when people drove by and honked, you knew them, so it wasn’t the same.
Oh, the joys of big city living. Or just visiting. At first I thought it was a genuine compliment from a shy admirer. But no, I was wrong. Then I went to Calgary, home of the lonliest and easiest to please men on the planet, apparently. I swear to gawd, every third truck honks in that town. It got real old real fast.
I have a girlfriend who really enjoys the attention. She yells at the drivers as they speed off, and I kind of want to jump into the bushes and hide when she does. No wonder they never turn back; if anything, I think any driver notices her reaction would be smart to gun it.
Perhaps a honker will read this and be able to shed some light on this subject for me. Apparently, it is just too bizarre a concept for me to understand.
I just don’t get it. If you know me, stop and say hi, or call me later.
And if you’re one of those lonely guys, get a life. And by get a life, I don’t mean honk at random women. Trust me, you won’t meet your soul mate during a 65 Kmph drive-by.
I am genuinely confused. What are these men thinking? Girls will excitedly catapult their phone numbers into the flatbed of their pick-up truck as it zooms off? Flash them as they drive off into the distance? Get real.
And don’t worry, grandpa, I’m not a jumper. But if you’re really and truly concerned, slow down a little.
My first experience with this phenomenon was back in my teens. Remember, I grew up in a small town so when people drove by and honked, you knew them, so it wasn’t the same.
Oh, the joys of big city living. Or just visiting. At first I thought it was a genuine compliment from a shy admirer. But no, I was wrong. Then I went to Calgary, home of the lonliest and easiest to please men on the planet, apparently. I swear to gawd, every third truck honks in that town. It got real old real fast.
I have a girlfriend who really enjoys the attention. She yells at the drivers as they speed off, and I kind of want to jump into the bushes and hide when she does. No wonder they never turn back; if anything, I think any driver notices her reaction would be smart to gun it.
Perhaps a honker will read this and be able to shed some light on this subject for me. Apparently, it is just too bizarre a concept for me to understand.
The Olsen Twins face their monster
Mary Kate and Ashley Olson are finally willing to address a problem that has been plaguing them for years. Instead of letting this issue fester and continue to haunt them, they’re finally agreed to face the music and admit what we’ve all known for a long time. After it’s all said in done, the twins will at last be able to look at themselves in a mirror and not feel guilt or shame.
The girls are getting nose jobs.
Instead of looking within to face the real monsters that face them (eating disorders, chain cigarette smoking, for example, which, if not stopped, will cause their already fragile health to deteriorate) the former child stars are going under the knife.
At age 20, the pint sized pair are hardly past the “child star” status.
I’ve honestly never looked at a picture of either Mary Kate or Ashley and thought their noses were funny looking. I’ve never noticed them, actually. Instead, I usually think “man, she really could use a sandwich” or shake my head and grown, “Great role model for their pre-teen fans...” after noticing the cigarette between a pair of bony fingers.
The whole thing is just so sick and wrong, and really speaks to the pitiful state of our society. I could go on, but I won’t.
The girls are getting nose jobs.
Instead of looking within to face the real monsters that face them (eating disorders, chain cigarette smoking, for example, which, if not stopped, will cause their already fragile health to deteriorate) the former child stars are going under the knife.
At age 20, the pint sized pair are hardly past the “child star” status.
I’ve honestly never looked at a picture of either Mary Kate or Ashley and thought their noses were funny looking. I’ve never noticed them, actually. Instead, I usually think “man, she really could use a sandwich” or shake my head and grown, “Great role model for their pre-teen fans...” after noticing the cigarette between a pair of bony fingers.
The whole thing is just so sick and wrong, and really speaks to the pitiful state of our society. I could go on, but I won’t.
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