Seems I’m a bit behind the times in discovering Being Caribou and its authors. Karsten Heuer and Leanne Allison have been treking, filming and writing for over ten years. I found the book by chance while browsing the bookstore with Thomas. It is beautiful - the writing, the photos, the idea, all beautiful.
Heuer and Allison followed a caribou herd from their wintering grounds in Yukon to their calving grounds in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska. They followed them on foot, for five months. Being Caribou describes their journey while also teaching about caribou and threats (i.e. oil drilling) to the calving grounds and therefore to caribou survival.
The book was in the 9-12 year-old section, but the story, I think, is appealing to all kids. Alex seems quite fascinated. He points to the pictures: “Mommy ca-bou, baby ca-bou, mountains!”
I checked out the authors’ website. Apparently they are on a new trek, this time with their two-year-old son. They are paddling and hiking across Canada to meet author Farley Mowat. Truly inspirational and very cool.
The other day, while picking up boring-but-necessary items at the pharmacy, I came across a DVD called “Yoga for the Kid in All of Us”. A wave of idealism washed over me. I imagined evening family yoga time, winding down and relaxing before heading off for a long, refreshing sleep. I bought it.
The DVD, as it turns out, is fantastic. The poses have kid-friendly names such as butterfly, sandwich and motorcycle, and the pace is quick enough to keep a preschooler’s attention. Thomas loves it. He loves it so much that he pulled out the yoga mat at 6 am this morning. “It’s time to do exercises,” he said. I really wanted to make coffee and lie down on the couch, but how could I refuse? So we did the cobra (with Alex on my back), and the cat/cow (making appropriate animal noises), and the airplane (ouch).
I have done yoga before. Not since I was pregnant with Thomas and even then, not regularly, but I did it, I liked it, and I could keep up with the class. What has happened to me? I have biceps from carrying the kids around, but the rest, it seems, has atrophied.
Halfway through the DVD, Thomas had had enough and we were both on the couch, him with a cheese sandwich and me with a coffee. Sad to say, my legs and back will probably remind me of our little yoga session tomorrow. I just hope my three-year-old yoga master keeps us practicing.
Several events have recently coincided to remind me of my fortune.
As listed on the “What I’m reading” page, Dropped Threads is currently on my nightstand. It’s an anthology of writings by Canadian women, recounting stories that have previously gone untold: surviving cancer or abuse; choosing motherhood or childlessness; losing a friend or a parent.
Flora MacDonald tells a beautiful story of a young woman in the Arunachal Pradesh state of India. This woman has overcome hardships unimaginable for me yet commonplace for her, and has vastly improved living conditions for women and children in her community. Particularly memorable was MacDonald’s description of an average motherhood in this region of the world. Twelve pregnancies, two stillborn, two dead from pneumonia, four dead from diarrhea, one from other causes, three surviving. I cannot fathom losing nine children and continuing to live myself.
Shortly after reading this essay, I picked up the latest edition of Brain, Child and found an article by Valerie Weaver-Zercher called “Holding Baby Birds”. She describes the sudden death of a six-year-old neighbor and goes on to imagine how she would cope with the death of her own children. She makes the point that throughout history, most mothers have lost at least one child and that despite its relative frequency the loss was no less tragic, no less profound, than it would be for her – or for me.
And tomorrow I will write a Christmas card to a child in Zambia that we sponsor through SOS Children’s Village. Christopher is the same age as Thomas but was orphaned at birth and lives in one of the poorest countries in the world.
All this to gain some perspective, appreciate even the frustrating moments with my beautiful boys, and to not lose sleep over… losing sleep.
