I'm trying to live without products from China. This has led to some tears and many deviations.
Everly's preferred soothers are made in Germany (Nuk), second soothers are made in England (Avent).
My preferred layette is made in Canada (Kushies Baby). Umbrella stroller is made in Italy (Peg Perego), jogging stroller Australia (Phil & Ted), car seats in America (Britax).
But most toys are from China and my beloved Gymboree clothes seem to all be made in China.
What is my beef with China? Well it really isn't a specific beef - except that over the last 30 years of my consumer life I have made the observation that most items made in China are poorly made and break easily. Cheap plastics or poorly cut fashion items. There are some exceptions to the rule (I am humbled by Gymboree - please find another country to manufacture your little girly frocks!). The one time I found a plastic container with a lid made in Canada it broke with little resistance.
But I am committed to avoiding products made in China. This is not about their human rights violations, relations with Tibet or propensity to eat dogs. It has everything to do with quality. I would rather spend a bit more money and buy something that I am not going to need to replace very 3 months.
Wish me luck. I predict that I will be making many exemptions but I am going to try.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
CBSA Meet The Hague Convention
A few days ago on my way back into Canada I was questioned repeatedly by a Canada Border Service Agent whether or not I had a letter of permission to take my children out of Canada from their father.
I questioned her about her authority to ask me this question as I was bringing my canadian born children (with recent passports) back into the country. Not only that but she kept repeated the incorrect number of children that I had in the vehicle - 3 not 2 - which tells me her eagle eye for things askew was a bit askew itself.....
She continued to dogmatically repeat her question - did I have a notarized letter from the father? I advised her that I have never been questioned by the American border guards about whether or not I had permission (and they are the ones who would be denying my travel). She responded that was because the Americans don't care about Canadians and their custody and guardianship status.
At this statement I balked as I know that the Americans care very much who is coming into their country. They have signed onto The Hague Convention on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction (1988). Albeit they signed 5 years after Canada did - but the intention was the same - to assist parents in stopping or having their children repatriated to their native countries if they are unlawfully removed (Elian Gonzales ring any bells?).
So why was this Canadian border guard giving me the raspberry on an issue that she had no remedy for? Could she detain me in some sort of fashion like the Tom Hanks movie The Terminal? Living at The Peace Arch with my three kids.... limbo. No she could not deny me entry back into my country with my Canadian born child (with valid Canadian Passports - which their father had to sign for). Given that the kids have valid passports there is in implicit consent by HWSNBN is somewhat ADVISED that the kids are traveling into foreign lands.
But more to the point isn't it the job of the CBSA to make sure that they are protecting Canada by vetting international travelers that wish to mingle among us? Isn't their job to collect 'lost taxes' from shop happy Canadians returning home? Aren't they there to ensure that people aren't bringing back any biological pesticides / foreign invaders to keep our agricultural areas safe?
Did she ask if I am going to be visiting a farm? No
Did she ask if I had anything to declare? No
Buts he did ask if I had purchased any firearms or knives / weapons during my trip.
PULEEEZE. How many overweight mid 30's moms with three pre school aged kids have time to go shopping in the states during a day trip let alone have time to pick up a firearm?
What ever happened to common sense?
I questioned her about her authority to ask me this question as I was bringing my canadian born children (with recent passports) back into the country. Not only that but she kept repeated the incorrect number of children that I had in the vehicle - 3 not 2 - which tells me her eagle eye for things askew was a bit askew itself.....
She continued to dogmatically repeat her question - did I have a notarized letter from the father? I advised her that I have never been questioned by the American border guards about whether or not I had permission (and they are the ones who would be denying my travel). She responded that was because the Americans don't care about Canadians and their custody and guardianship status.
At this statement I balked as I know that the Americans care very much who is coming into their country. They have signed onto The Hague Convention on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction (1988). Albeit they signed 5 years after Canada did - but the intention was the same - to assist parents in stopping or having their children repatriated to their native countries if they are unlawfully removed (Elian Gonzales ring any bells?).
So why was this Canadian border guard giving me the raspberry on an issue that she had no remedy for? Could she detain me in some sort of fashion like the Tom Hanks movie The Terminal? Living at The Peace Arch with my three kids.... limbo. No she could not deny me entry back into my country with my Canadian born child (with valid Canadian Passports - which their father had to sign for). Given that the kids have valid passports there is in implicit consent by HWSNBN is somewhat ADVISED that the kids are traveling into foreign lands.
But more to the point isn't it the job of the CBSA to make sure that they are protecting Canada by vetting international travelers that wish to mingle among us? Isn't their job to collect 'lost taxes' from shop happy Canadians returning home? Aren't they there to ensure that people aren't bringing back any biological pesticides / foreign invaders to keep our agricultural areas safe?
Did she ask if I am going to be visiting a farm? No
Did she ask if I had anything to declare? No
Buts he did ask if I had purchased any firearms or knives / weapons during my trip.
PULEEEZE. How many overweight mid 30's moms with three pre school aged kids have time to go shopping in the states during a day trip let alone have time to pick up a firearm?
What ever happened to common sense?
Saturday, July 5, 2008
We Shall Not Return
HWSNBN took the boys out today to cash in their sticker credits for toys. During their trip HWSNBN decided to go into a store (which looked like a toy store) with the boys to inquire about a special motor. The store was in Old Langley. The store owner was in a crabby mood. Now bear in mind that this was a small store, in an economically struggling part of Langley. In any event the store owner made it clear to HWSNBN that the kids were not welcome in the store. Which is a bit weird when you consider that it was a toy store and this guy clearly wouldn't hurt for making a sale. HWSNBN assured the owner that if anything was broken he would pay for it. This was NOT an antique store or a store which had any business putting limits on which kinds of people could come inside. Had either child broken anything HWSNBN would have bought up the store out of guilt - let alone pay for the item that was broken.
In the end they left quickly as the store owner was making them feel very unwelcome.
I started to think about what would have happened if instead of discriminating against kids, the store owner had said no black people in his store. Or no women. Or no gays. Or no First Nations. Or no wheelchairs. That would have been a scream from the community. But somehow we accept that people discriminate against kids.
One would think that the last group of people you should be rude to would be those who can afford to buy your pap from your store. Especially parents of young boys who are itching to increase their train collection & Hot Wheels breeding program. But more importantly I started to think about all the times that kids have been made to feel unwelcome. Who do these shop owners think that they are? I am probably the last person who you want to piss off because of your behaviour as a retailer. I will tell everyone about my experience. I will blog about it. I will boycott your store.
The store was C & Rs Hobbies Collectibles and the man who runs it clearly does not want your business. Grant him his wish.
In the end they left quickly as the store owner was making them feel very unwelcome.
I started to think about what would have happened if instead of discriminating against kids, the store owner had said no black people in his store. Or no women. Or no gays. Or no First Nations. Or no wheelchairs. That would have been a scream from the community. But somehow we accept that people discriminate against kids.
One would think that the last group of people you should be rude to would be those who can afford to buy your pap from your store. Especially parents of young boys who are itching to increase their train collection & Hot Wheels breeding program. But more importantly I started to think about all the times that kids have been made to feel unwelcome. Who do these shop owners think that they are? I am probably the last person who you want to piss off because of your behaviour as a retailer. I will tell everyone about my experience. I will blog about it. I will boycott your store.
The store was C & Rs Hobbies Collectibles and the man who runs it clearly does not want your business. Grant him his wish.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
I Can Still Hear The Snare in The Square
Summer always evokes memories of summer cam p for me. And it wasn't a sleepaway camp where we made crafts, made out by the campfire and ate smores. I went to cadet camp for 5 years. It was more like 6am wake up calls, french fries for every lunch at the mess and grueling wedge head (because I was an air cadet and even when I was at an army camp in Whitehorse, I had to wear my wedge - fabulous for the forehead).
Believe it or not but these were some of the best summers of my life. I felt like I lived, loved and laughed the whole 7 to 8 weeks that I was at camp. I went to Band Camp in Vernon in 1990 - a hideous hair year completed with Sun In streaks in my hair and an impossible crush on a guy named Ferris. I then wen to on to win a panel to go to Tech camp in Borden 1991. I made a radio and won top Tech cadet in BC. I was able to learn about Inuit culture (Whitehorse 1992) when I was a staff cadet. I will never forget the humiliation when I marched up to the dias when they called out Warrent Officer positions - they said Curly and I thought that they said Curry. I ended up being an admin clerk. Which may be the place where I fell in love with flying staplers. Then it was onto Penhold for true Air Cadet Camp (the first 3 were mainly army cadet camps with a few positions for air cadets to beat drums or staple documents).
I surprised myself (and I think my home squadron officers) when I landed a WO2 position at Penhold. I suspect that this had much to do with the fact that I had no history with the people on staff (and hence no rekindled friendships) and a massive ear infection which rendered me deaf. So I had no one but myself to commiserate with and this meant that I didn't talk myself into blowing off lesson plans, didn't talk myself into sneaking out after hours and didn't really make any friends until after the staff cadets had been assigned. I was determined to work hard and redeem my previous placement the summer before.
And of course then there was Penhold 1994 - when the mighty had fallen and the old regime had been replaced. Which ultimately led to me having a demotion (although same pay rate) to flight sergeant and one of the most moody summers of my life.
I will blog more about this - but for now given the time of year - I am always transported back to that initial excitement of leaving home for summer camp.
Believe it or not but these were some of the best summers of my life. I felt like I lived, loved and laughed the whole 7 to 8 weeks that I was at camp. I went to Band Camp in Vernon in 1990 - a hideous hair year completed with Sun In streaks in my hair and an impossible crush on a guy named Ferris. I then wen to on to win a panel to go to Tech camp in Borden 1991. I made a radio and won top Tech cadet in BC. I was able to learn about Inuit culture (Whitehorse 1992) when I was a staff cadet. I will never forget the humiliation when I marched up to the dias when they called out Warrent Officer positions - they said Curly and I thought that they said Curry. I ended up being an admin clerk. Which may be the place where I fell in love with flying staplers. Then it was onto Penhold for true Air Cadet Camp (the first 3 were mainly army cadet camps with a few positions for air cadets to beat drums or staple documents).
I surprised myself (and I think my home squadron officers) when I landed a WO2 position at Penhold. I suspect that this had much to do with the fact that I had no history with the people on staff (and hence no rekindled friendships) and a massive ear infection which rendered me deaf. So I had no one but myself to commiserate with and this meant that I didn't talk myself into blowing off lesson plans, didn't talk myself into sneaking out after hours and didn't really make any friends until after the staff cadets had been assigned. I was determined to work hard and redeem my previous placement the summer before.
And of course then there was Penhold 1994 - when the mighty had fallen and the old regime had been replaced. Which ultimately led to me having a demotion (although same pay rate) to flight sergeant and one of the most moody summers of my life.
I will blog more about this - but for now given the time of year - I am always transported back to that initial excitement of leaving home for summer camp.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Little F*&$er
There is a little man who chooses to drag race his vehicle around my neighbourhood. This has been recent - however it always happens this time of year. Something about it being spring time and little men with little penises road raging around the hood.
I hate this man. He may be a teenager or he may be a middle aged guy on his lunch break- I am not sure. But if I catch him I guarantee that I will change his religion.
Today he scared Rowan so badly while he was in the backyard I vowed to catch him this summer if it is the only public service that I do.
For those of you who can remember the verbal smack down I gave to '9pm Rev My Motorcycle' guy you should looking forward to how I handle no Muffler Man.
Stay tuned.....
I hate this man. He may be a teenager or he may be a middle aged guy on his lunch break- I am not sure. But if I catch him I guarantee that I will change his religion.
Today he scared Rowan so badly while he was in the backyard I vowed to catch him this summer if it is the only public service that I do.
For those of you who can remember the verbal smack down I gave to '9pm Rev My Motorcycle' guy you should looking forward to how I handle no Muffler Man.
Stay tuned.....
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
The Instant Gratification of Ebay
I love ebay. I just love it. There is a drama placed out with every transaction. Will I win it? Will I be outbid? Can I hit the bid button fast enough??
of course there is a dark side to all this 'shopping'. There is the crushing defeat when someone outbids you by 50 cents on an item that you thought that you had in the bag. Or the scary reality that you might have bought 3 Incrediblocks (no small mistake at $25 shipping per item). Or the relief that you in fact only bought 2 and had already found a home for the extra. There is cheeky smugness if you outbid someone. There is the excitement of the doorbell ringing - especially when you didn't pay extra for direct shipping to Canada.
Some recent finds - $3.74 for a Matt & Nat wallet (that matched my purse), 7 Gymboree summer outfits for Everly for 2 dollars a piece, Bjorn spit cover for half price. I LOVE ebay.
Next goal is to buy kitchen fixtures & bathroom faucets... about 75% cheaper on ebay.
Truly satisfying on a rainy weekday....
of course there is a dark side to all this 'shopping'. There is the crushing defeat when someone outbids you by 50 cents on an item that you thought that you had in the bag. Or the scary reality that you might have bought 3 Incrediblocks (no small mistake at $25 shipping per item). Or the relief that you in fact only bought 2 and had already found a home for the extra. There is cheeky smugness if you outbid someone. There is the excitement of the doorbell ringing - especially when you didn't pay extra for direct shipping to Canada.
Some recent finds - $3.74 for a Matt & Nat wallet (that matched my purse), 7 Gymboree summer outfits for Everly for 2 dollars a piece, Bjorn spit cover for half price. I LOVE ebay.
Next goal is to buy kitchen fixtures & bathroom faucets... about 75% cheaper on ebay.
Truly satisfying on a rainy weekday....
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
You Oughtta Know....
I would estimate that 50% of my parenting energy goes towards 'crime prevention'.
By this I mean that I try to avert disaster before it strikes. LIke putting all sharp knives up high. Removing all things breakable from the play room. Hiding chocolate and other treats up high before the little truffle sniffers can find them and demand TREATS before breakfast. Putting my favourite and my best bath bubbles under the sink so that they do not get used for general bubble making. Poopi - scooping the backyard before allowing the kids to play in the backyard. And up until two weeks ago this list also included putting all paints and paint brushes on top of the bookcase in the den so that the kids could not make eye contact with said contra ban and I was totally in charge of when and if there was going to be 'fun with paint time'.
I should also note that part of my crime prevention program includes vetting out inappropriate gifts such as paints with warning labels which include instructions which explicitly state that you must wash paint immediately off anything you don't want stained forever. Unless said paint gift is from a relative that we see quite frequently. In which case I divert to plan B which is keep the paint but keep it out of sight. Honestly when this gift was given I spent a long time searching the instructions on the bottles for the words WASHABLE or Water Soluble. Nada. Might as well be oil based melamine as far as I was concerned. Who the hell buys permanent paint for a 4 year old???
In a moment of blind stupidity, or perhaps due to extreme sleep deprivation, or an undeniable need to putting everything back in its place during my nesting phase prior to going into labour on May 19th, I grabbed the paint and assorted brushes and put them back with their art supply brethearn.
Sure enough yesterday while I was trying to mesh swimming schedules there was an unearthly quiet in the dinning room. After the quiet registered I got up to see two little people looking really guilty with a streak of gold in their hair. And fists full of wet wipes which also look like they have been used to mop up a large amount of gold PAINT. In the dining room. On the dining room CARPET in three separate pools of paint (with some hot pink for flair).
On my knees and scrubbing for what seems like hours (but honestly must have been for about 5 minutes) and there is only a wisp of a colour change to the pools. They resemble huge skid marks. In that special mopped up post gold way - sort of green and brown after tones. So I DRENCH the carpet in fantastic Oxy clean. And then I spray it again with cleaner. Then I let it sit and start to scrub again after HWSNBN gets home ("Why weren't you supervising them?"). Nothing. Just three huge skid marks.
Now before anyone starts a bottle drive for me to get my carpets cleaned ASAP I should say that we have already bought the hardwood and planned on the weekend that HWSNBN will be putting the hardwood down. In fact the reason why the art easel is even in the dining room is because of the plans to change the flooring. The only glitch is that this particular project is not scheduled to begin until September.
So it shall be a summer of skid marks in the dining room. Please look away when you come over....
For the record I have dispensed with the unwashable paint. And I dare the wrath of the relative to rain on me. Of course I will give them the Van Gogh tour when they come over next......
By this I mean that I try to avert disaster before it strikes. LIke putting all sharp knives up high. Removing all things breakable from the play room. Hiding chocolate and other treats up high before the little truffle sniffers can find them and demand TREATS before breakfast. Putting my favourite and my best bath bubbles under the sink so that they do not get used for general bubble making. Poopi - scooping the backyard before allowing the kids to play in the backyard. And up until two weeks ago this list also included putting all paints and paint brushes on top of the bookcase in the den so that the kids could not make eye contact with said contra ban and I was totally in charge of when and if there was going to be 'fun with paint time'.
I should also note that part of my crime prevention program includes vetting out inappropriate gifts such as paints with warning labels which include instructions which explicitly state that you must wash paint immediately off anything you don't want stained forever. Unless said paint gift is from a relative that we see quite frequently. In which case I divert to plan B which is keep the paint but keep it out of sight. Honestly when this gift was given I spent a long time searching the instructions on the bottles for the words WASHABLE or Water Soluble. Nada. Might as well be oil based melamine as far as I was concerned. Who the hell buys permanent paint for a 4 year old???
In a moment of blind stupidity, or perhaps due to extreme sleep deprivation, or an undeniable need to putting everything back in its place during my nesting phase prior to going into labour on May 19th, I grabbed the paint and assorted brushes and put them back with their art supply brethearn.
Sure enough yesterday while I was trying to mesh swimming schedules there was an unearthly quiet in the dinning room. After the quiet registered I got up to see two little people looking really guilty with a streak of gold in their hair. And fists full of wet wipes which also look like they have been used to mop up a large amount of gold PAINT. In the dining room. On the dining room CARPET in three separate pools of paint (with some hot pink for flair).
On my knees and scrubbing for what seems like hours (but honestly must have been for about 5 minutes) and there is only a wisp of a colour change to the pools. They resemble huge skid marks. In that special mopped up post gold way - sort of green and brown after tones. So I DRENCH the carpet in fantastic Oxy clean. And then I spray it again with cleaner. Then I let it sit and start to scrub again after HWSNBN gets home ("Why weren't you supervising them?"). Nothing. Just three huge skid marks.
Now before anyone starts a bottle drive for me to get my carpets cleaned ASAP I should say that we have already bought the hardwood and planned on the weekend that HWSNBN will be putting the hardwood down. In fact the reason why the art easel is even in the dining room is because of the plans to change the flooring. The only glitch is that this particular project is not scheduled to begin until September.
So it shall be a summer of skid marks in the dining room. Please look away when you come over....
For the record I have dispensed with the unwashable paint. And I dare the wrath of the relative to rain on me. Of course I will give them the Van Gogh tour when they come over next......
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)