Ontario's new sex ed curriculum - This parent's rant

The big news story of the week is the re-vamped sex education curriculum that's been unveiled by the Ontario Liberal government. I've pasted a summary of the new curriculum below.

Grade 1

Students in Grade 1 will be taught the proper names for body parts – something child-abuse investigators have long urged.

They will also learn how to recognize non-verbal signals, such as facial expressions and tone of voice, to better communicate with others.

Grade 2

In Grade 2, students will learn about bodily changes and development, verbal and physical violence, and the concept that “no means no.”

Grades 3-4

Grade 3 students will learn about same-sex relationships, while the physical, emotional and social impacts of puberty will move from Grade 5 to Grade 4.

Grades 5-6

In Grade 5, students will continue learning about puberty, including menstruation and spermatogenesis, and how these processes relate to reproduction.

Students in Grade 6 will learn about masturbation and “gender expression.” They will also be educated on how to build healthy relationships and consent.

Grades 7-8

In Grades 7-8, students will learn about the dangers of “sexting.”

They will also discuss contraception, anal and oral sex, and ways to prevent pregnancy and sexually transmitted infections.

Grades 9-10

Teaching materials on mental health, previously relegated to older grades, will be introduced in Grade 9. Grade 9 students will also explore gender identity, sexual orientation and the resources available for support.

In Grade 10, students will continue to learn what factors influence sexual decision-making, including personal values, peer and family expectations, and media messages.

Under the current sex education program, Grades 9 and 10 students focus on promoting healthy sexuality, preventing sexually transmitted infections, and identifying the stages of sexuality.

Grades 11-12

Similarly to the existing program, students in Grades 11 and 12 will focus on how to use decision-making skills to create healthy relationships.

They will also learn about reducing the stigma around mental illness, and taking proactive health measures

Some parents are protesting on religious grounds. Some parents are protesting that it goes too far.
I am protesting too. But for a combination of reasons, none of which have to do with religion.
The ministry of education has screwed up its priorities with respect to our children's education.
The school's current educational regime has done away with rote memorization for multiplication tables. Rather, they are utilizing some creative form of math using T-charts to teach basic math skills. Let me tell you, it's NOT working. I spend ridiculous amounts of time trying to re-teach my kid basic math skills. And don't get me started on math journals. I'm not an idiot in math. I've even got a second year university calculus under my belt. My spouse is in finance, for pete's sake, And we can't figure out our kid's absurd math homework. It's not the math we don't understand (we get that mathematics operation is multiplication) - it's the new fangled teaching concept of "patterning" that leaves us banging our heads against the wall.
I can't believe the government, that is the ministry of education, believes it can teach our children about the complicated issue of consent in grades 5-6. When the judiciary and the courts still have difficulty in interpreting consent, how can a 12 year old begin to understand the intricacies of the dynamics that play into the issue of consent.
If the schools can't even be trusted to teach basic addition, subtraction, multiplication and long division, how can I trust that they'll get the complicated concept of consent right?
Then there's the topic relating to sexting. I'd be happy if they could teach children how to spell properly, and not how it sounds. Proper punctuation and correct grammar might save us from the ridiculous 40 character twitter universe. And yes, I'm that parent that once sent back the school letter to parents with my red pen marking up the spelling errors and grammatical mistakes.
Perhaps what is more infuriating is the belief that my children need to learn about anal sex. To me, that's extraneous information at this age. Not required. However, cursive writing is considered to be unnecessary in the current educational guidelines. Really? Last time I checked, our identification documents, like the passport, required a signature. Mortgage documents, bank loans, agreements of sale and purchase - all of these require a signature in ink. Not an electronic signature. Not a thumbprint. Not a retinal scan. But your name, signed in cursive. Yet they don't teach that in schools. Don't even get me started on the fact they don't teach how to read cursive writing.
And here's the thing about anal sex - it's still listed in the Criminal Code as an offence. It may have been declared unconstitutional, but it's still there. So, now the schools will be teaching the kids about technically illegal activities.
I'm not a prude, but I really don't think education about anal and oral intercourse is necessary in grade school. Rather, the energies of the teachers should be spent on fostering positive self-images, being comfortable in one's skin, celebrating the diversities in our world and teaching mutual respect for others. Oh wait, that's what the anti-bullying campaigns were about. And they still haven't licked that problem.
I love that kids in grade one will be learning about facial expressions and tones of voice. Really? Like they haven't figured out that while they were still in diapers?
Frankly speaking, I think children will be traumatized learning about the bodily changes in grade 2. Seven year olds are still trying to figure out how to tie their shoe laces. Now we're going to teach them about getting body hair and boobs?
Whatever happened to trying to preserve the innocence of our babes?
But if we must prepare them for the real world...then how about teaching children about violence in the homes, and how to recognize violence in intimate relationships? It's unbelievable the numbers of young, teen girls who find themselves in abusive relationships but chalk it up to a sign of "love". I'm all for educating children about the dangers of "sexting" and sending explicit photos of oneself to others. But I think gender identity should probably be covered before anal intercourse, given that same sex relationships will be covered in grade 3.
I understand it's important to educate our children about sex and all that it entails. I just can't believe the brain power that's gone into this, when the three r's are suffering abysmally. I get it that even Rhodes scholars and American presidents struggle with the concept of what "sex" is, or isn't. But at least he could write an essay on the topic.
Listening to me rant, my spouse suggested that perhaps I should start attending the school board meetings and protest these changes. After all, we as parents, have to make our voices heard, considering our tax dollars, blah blah blah.
A worthwhile thought.
But I'm too busy trying to teach my kids how to read, write in cursive and do math. You know, all the subjects I send my kids to school to learn.

Happy Family Day

It's minus 30 or something incredibly, ridiculously cold that is mind blowing, or rather mind freezing...
My house is a hive of activity. Between one whining child, another half-heartedly practising piano, one running around shooting suction cup arrows and another moping about the lack of stuff to do (homework? read a book? clean up your bedroom?)...I. Am. Trying. Really. Hard. To. Enjoy. This. Family. Day.
In the past, we've done the zoo, the science centre, the city sponsored events - all complete with crowds, screaming children, crying babies and grumbling parents.
Family Day is really a birth control method put on by the government. This holiday they've given us to enjoy time off with our families. Really, after a day of fighting the crowds at the "family fun" events is enough to make one swear off at having any more children. Too bad, it's a too little, too late for me. Hah...just kidding....I really am loving having one day of the year that I can sleep in and wake up to a little boy cuddling me and happily chattering away because "Mommy not going to work".
I am sipping a gigantic cup of freshly brewed coffee with a healthy dose of Irish Cream, debating on whether -30 is too cold to venture out for ice skating, or if I can simply throw the kids outside, bundled up in their freshly laundered snowsuits. Just read a frostbite warning on the weather network. Okay, I guess that would be considered cruel and unusual punishment. Need to think of another family friendly activity.
I need more Bailey's.
It's still too cold to venture out. Daddy gets brilliant idea to work on this school assignments and homework. Lots of whining. Lots of hair pulling (us) as we try to explain right angle and polygons, and sounding out words.
I need more Bailey's. And I've run out of coffee.
Happy Family Day.

All boy

Having two kids of each gender, I am more convinced that it's all nature, and not nurture.
Case in point:
The other night, Quinn is walking around with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. His one hand appear to be scratching at an itch, on his backside. And his hand is in his pants.

Me: Are you itchy? (thinking it could be a rash, or maybe another patch of eczema given the cold weather)
Quinn: Nope.
Me: Then get your hand out of your pants.
Quinn: Okay. (Stated with a devilish grin.)

Me: Why is your hand in your pants?
Quinn: It's not! It's in my bum! See! (as he pulls his offending hand out)

Then he runs up to me, asks "Wanna smell?"

Me: Gross! No!
Quinn: smells like poop?! Hahahaha! (laughs uproariously)

Me: Really? This is what makes you laugh?
Quinn: Yup! Haahahaha....Mommy, come here! (chasing me around the house with his hand stuck out)

Yup, my two girls would NEVER have done this.

I'm not READY...

I bet you thought I was going to write I wasn't ready for Christmas, right? Well, that's true I'm not, but that's not what's causing me stress. There's still 5 weeks of shopping time for the big day.
No, I'm NOT ready to answer queries about the birds and the bees, from my 8 year old!
I'd much rather answer questions about, well anything else, but last night, Ceilidh asked me "what's a period?"
I tried to play dumb, even though I had a sinking feeling where this was going.
"A period is the punctuation mark at the end of a sentence," I answered nonchalantly.
"No, I know that. But what else is a period?" she asked again.
Feeling the stress of having to explain puberty and the changes to expect to an 8 year old (my 10 year old has remained completely uninterested in this topic thus far), I tried another answer.
"It's a span of time, like a hockey period, or an era in history."
This did not satisfy Ceilidh.
"Isn't there a kind of period that makes your stomach hurt?" she asked.
"Why are you asking me?" I tried a different tactic, hoping to uncover the reason for the sudden interest, while wondering how old I was when I read the Judy Blume classic, Are you there God? It's me Margaret.
 "The girls at dance class were talking about it, and it's supposed to happen when you're older. I think you should tell Devlin because he's older than me, and he'll need to know what a period is," she stated.
It took me a moment or two to compose myself before I could look at my daughter, and say, quite calmly and emphatically, "Ceilidh, when you are ready, I will explain the third definition of a period, You're not there yet. And you have a few years still, And furthermore, Devlin doesn't need to worry because the third definition of a period? It only affects girls."


I think she was satisfied with that answer, and I've got another 18 months, maybe, before I have to give the lecture on the birds and the bees.

Ceilidh's Christmas Wish List

On the nearly hour long drive up to Brownie camp, I idly questioned Ceilidh about her wish list for Christmas. It was an enlightening conversation, and if I could compose her letter to Santa, it would go like this:

Dear Santa,
I really really really want a Fur Real dog - the ones that bark and has a leash but isn't real. My mom won't let me get a real live puppy because she says I won't clean up the poop. I promised I would, but she doesn't believe me.
Also I want a music player - I think it's called an MP3. My brother Devlin wants one too. But do your elves make electronic things? I know they can make toys, but can they do stuff with headphones?
I also would like a new scooter. I'm 8 years old, and 8 year olds do NOT ride Barbie scooters. Like the one I have. Besides, it's broken. My old one. My dad broke it - he tried to ride it or something.
My sister Aisling would like a scooter too - the kind you sit one even though Mommy says those are for babies.
But I'd really really really want an Ever After High Thronecoming Briar Rose doll. I've told Mommy that Ever After High is way better than Barbie dolls, They have more moving parts. Barbie dolls' arms don't move.
I think there's other stuff too. Like a slushie maker so that we can make slushies for my dad.
My little brother Quinn could use more cars, even though he has a million. He does like Planes Fire and Rescue. And Ninja Turtles.
Devlin wants Lego anything.
And, if I can't get the Fur Real, I would like the Beanie stuffies with the really big eyes. The Christmas penguin stuffie.
I think that's all.
I hope you're not too busy.
Thanks,
Ceilidh

Remembrance Day 2014

Remember learning about stream of conciousness in grade 13/OAC English literature? Virginia Woolf? Well, this is my attempt at this literary technique. Also known as, writing down my jumbled thoughts on what November 11th means to me.
In the wake of the recent losses of two Canadian soldiers on our own soil, there's been a movement to have Remembrance Day declared a national statutory holiday. I believe the motion passed in the House of Commons. Which means it's pretty much a done deal. While means that civil servants and bank employees like myself and my husband will have to find another day to get our snow tires put on our vehicles. I am the first to admit that I've used this day off to a get a jump start on my Christmas shopping, or rake leaves, or go through the piles of junk in my house. Back in the day before kids, we'd take in an afternoon matinee. In other words, I've used my day off wisely. But it also means, I rarely took the time to reflect on the purpose of Remembrance Day. Not since I was in grade school and watched the black and white clips of the war footages and recited "In Flanders Fields" in class. (Although I do recall getting the day off from school when I was in the primary grades.)
Today, I attended the Remembrance Day assembly at my children's school. Ceilidh was singing in the choir. But for my child's participation, I probably would have spent the morning lounging around the house, mopping the floors or hitting the malls to start on the Christmas list. Instead, after a run, there I sat, sweating and panting, in the gymnasium, watching the old black and white footage of the gun battles in the last great war. But then the movie changed to colour, and showed images of our Canadian peacekeepers in Bosnia. There were images of the soldiers we had lost in Afghanistan. Clips of the hearses travelling along the Highway of Heroes. Tears started to flood my eyes as I recalled a few weeks ago, driving along the 407, on a Friday afternoon. Gathering along the overpasses were EMS personnel, fire fighters, police, everyday citizens. The Canadian flag was draped along the concrete as they awaited the arrival of hearse carrying the body of Cpl. Nathan Cirillo. I remember then, how my chest tightened and tears briefly blurred my vision, at the thought of a small child who was now orphaned. Whose father would never return home, even though he had only been a few short hours away. Who was slain not while fighting a war overseas, but while performing the seemingly "safe" task of standing guard at the War Memorial, at the tomb of the unknown soldier. A ceremonial duty at the symbol of what this young father was upholding. Keeping the peace. At the hands of a crazed, mentally ill person.
I realized then, the serious duty that's befallen on me, to educate my children to appreciate exactly what Remembrance Day is about. While it may have started to mark the end of the war of all wars, the signing of the Armistace Treaty, it is much more than a moment in history. It is the continual efforts to maintain a free world, a free country. This responsibility placed upon our shoulders is difficult for me and others like me. I have no family members in the armed forces. I have not been personally touched by the tragedy of losing a loved one in a war, nor welcomed back a soldier from a tour of duty. Nor have I fled a country in the grips of a civil war. I am fortunate to have lived my entire life in this great country, Canada. I have enjoyed the freedoms and rights that my forepersons have fought for, but never appreciated it.
While I often joke about the lack of peace in my household (an elusive and fleeting moment  in a house full of kids), it is no laughing matter that my children can attend school without having to worry about gunfire. That they can sleep at night, having the confidence they will wake up in the same warm bed and not be spirited away at gunpoint, under the cloak of darkness. That they can attend worship services and play alongside children of other faiths without being persecuted.
It is grave burden placed on my generation to keep the conversation alive about Remembrance Day and peace, and not restrict to just one day of the year. The question is, are we up to the task?
As I drove along the 407, I remember thinking if I didn't have to rush home to my kids to feed them dinner, I would have pulled over, and awaited the passing of the motorcade of Cpl. Cirillo. And there in lies the true task. That despite the craziness and busyness of our daily lives - working and raising kids - can we remember to keep alive the true spirit of Remembrance Day?

What'd you call me?!

Quinn was dressed for church in a pair of blue jeans, a rugby type shirt and beige desert boot-like shoes. He looked like a little boy, not so much a toddler.
"He's ready to go! Take a look at him!" I said as I handed him off to his father.
"Let's go, you sharp dresser," Daddy said, holding the door open.

Quinn stopped in his tracks, and glared at his father.

"What?! I'm not a shark! I'm Quinny!" he announced.