Daniela Ginta, Freelance Writer

Gratitude makes the journey better. Kindness, too.

Tag: children Page 3 of 6

On Earth Day And Further

By

On April 22, 2015

In Environment, Learning, Life Stories, Social issues

AliveIt is Earth Day today – officially, that is – and that means many things: that many people actively think about their world today, that they may feel inspired to make changes that will help heal it and keep it alive, that even though Volkswagen Canada pushed some car-related trend to top trend on Twitter (yes, they did), #EarthDay occupies the second spot, not because of money-inflated campaigns but because people make it so. That is powerful.

Over the last two months I have been observing the effects that two words have on people. Say climate change and some will jump right in the middle of the conversation, while others shift their gaze and sail out of it as it happens with taboos, because that is what climate change often reminds me of. A couple of states in the US have banned the very words, while here in Canada, the very words are spoken with gusto only by those who have no ties with the fossil fuel industry or the seemingly irreplaceable benefits such resources bring to our everyday life.

Everybody knows that dependency is a dirty word that becomes even dirtier when the environment becomes collateral damage. And it does, whether we admit it or not.

The damage, some would say, is already big enough, is it not, while others still argue that perhaps there is no such thing as human activity-induced climate change and what we see is merely normal phenomena of our world.

I will not dwell on the latter. The fact that March was the hottest on record prevents me from it. As we stand now, and we will, likely, for a few more decades at least, there are no additional options when it comes to living quarters, a reality that cannot be twisted in any way even by the most fervent deniers. This is it, our home. The Earth.

What helps then, putting things in perspective? Here’s what changes mine and keeps me motivated to never give up:

ThemChildren, mine included. They deserve better than a declining world. Their minds are eager to learn and their compassion levels run high. If we teach them early, by example, that wants and needs are as different as night and day, and happiness never comes from opening a package or owning yet one more thing, they’ll go after the real thing: connection. With themselves, with people and with the world.

ThereThat all resources on Earth are finite. Matter – that means liquid, gas, solid – transforms constantly and nothing in our world disappears but becomes something else. We have the power (and technology, for most part) to choose processes and resources that improve our world rather than destroy it. Think fossil fuels and pollution versus renewable, non-polluting energy, think plastic and pollution versus reducing consumerism and garbage. Think health versus… Wait, nothing to set that against. True conversation starters indeed.

strengthThat nature is resilient. Which means that silly kids that we are, we have been abusing it for long enough, yet, should we change our ways, things will get better. Slowly, but they will, and that is reason enough.

ThatThat if the environment suffers, we suffer too. No revolutionary medication and treatments can make up for clean water, air and soil and no amount of money can buy a livable world. Ours was and still is good enough so it makes sense to keep it alive. Everything we create (plastic, pesticides, chemicals used for various purposes) stays with us, whether in the same form or a different one. Every action comes with reaction and if we have once accepted that as truth, why not apply it and make our actions positive ones. It only gets better from there onward if we do.

I am stubborn enough to believe that our survival instinct will prevail. It has to.

WorldsHappy Earth Day!

PS: Happy 364 Earth days more until the next April 22 comes around…It is when it becomes an everyday thing that it matters the most.

A Child Lost Is Too Much To Lose and Not Learn From

By

On April 1, 2015

In Armchair Mayor Column, Kamloops, Life Stories, Motherhood, Social issues

Initially published as a column in the Armchair Mayor News on Friday, March 27, 2015. 

The day is foggy and grey. Somewhat sad except that I’ve always loved the rain and its plaintive reminders. As I do the usual ruffling through the news I come across the case of a 21-month-old toddler who, two years ago this month, died while in foster care. Too sad for words, but upon reading the entire story, several more shades of darkness pile up.

The mother, who had her baby taken away by social services just two months after birth – she was deemed unsuitable to be a parent due to a learning disability – is now suing the B.C Children’s Ministry for the death of her daughter.

The toddler was found to have several arm fractures, old and new, as well as bruises on face, arms and legs, the coroner’s report stated, yet the cause of death was deemed as unclear.

That a child is dead is unacceptable. Parenting is hard work, everyone knows that, but this is not about parenting and its hard trials. This is about a system failing to step in, and it is also about the failure to present the birth mother with an answer as to why her baby died, having her fight to shed some light which, as of now, has not been the case.

Instead, she had bureaucrats shrugging and filling the space with empty words. There is nothing that can ever fill the space where a child once was.

A life is a life. We simply cannot shrug, call it sad and move on. We are approaching new elections and thus we will have a chance to change things. Will we know what needs to be changed? What can we ask for? The basics to start with. Respect and care for our most vulnerable, children and the elderly, as well as other categories, the ones that cannot always speak for themselves.

We should be asking that our collective children are cared for, that every one of them is properly accounted for and that the system will not fail children or parents, but rather engage into helping them be looked after and/or reunite when the situation allows for it.

In the last few years I have heard of more than one case of parents struggling to keep their children only to end up losing them to foster care, or extended families trying to keep in touch with children yet having their pleas completely ignored.

Truth is, raising children, whether by natural or foster parents, should be a team effort. It provides accountability of some sort. Someone in the network that we strive to create around each child will be able to notice when things aren’t right. Then, of course, comes the objectivity in assessing the facts and taking appropriate measures.

If we allow for learning disabilities to become reasons for losing the right to parent a child, we enter a grey area that would have many children ripped from the people who love them the most. Yes, they may need support and guidance, yet that would be a much better use of resources and a significant gain for our society as a whole.

While some parents are truly unsuitable, as sad as that is, we cannot allow for those who want to be good parents to be deemed unfit and have their children thrown into a system that dangerously lacks proper screening criteria for foster parents.

At the same time, there are many foster families out there going above and beyond in striving to provide a loving home to children other than their own, and they do not deserve to be painted with a tainted brush at any time.

It comes down to being responsible for one’s actions. Good or bad, if actions are accounted for properly, there is high hope that fewer children will fall through the cracks. Proper assessments of those in charge of children, control measures and not filling the space with empty words but action that sees the bad corrected.

When children are cared for and raised in ways that help them learn kindness and compassion from those who care for them, they’ll grow up to pay it forward and the entire society will benefit from it.

A society is as strong as its care for the most vulnerable is. Striving to do our best where best is needed – the purpose of a job is not just to be done but to be done well – will allow us to weave the kind of societal fabric that will not allow for anyone to fall through.

Shutting down a foster home after a child dies like the one where baby Isabella died, if not followed by an inquiry, misses the point of obligatory due diligence that we owe to all those who our yet imperfect system failed. Closure is not a word but should be a set of actions with a common denominator: now we know better.

A child’s life, as so many along the way, has been lost and that cannot be undone. Let’s not allow today’s news to just wash over it with no lessons learned. Hugging our children should be a constant reminder that life is precious and we are all bound by the high purpose of protecting it. All we have to do is live up to that purpose.

Are We Afraid Of Learning For The Love Of It? We Shouldn’t Be

By

On November 20, 2014

In Learning, Life Stories, Motherhood, Self-improvement

It is almost 10.30 pm, way past bedtime and the big boy has finally been peeled off his book and is now sleeping. Unless his mind races for a while, ruminating the stuff he’s been reading about… Ancient Greek history, today’s reading, complementing part of our history class today. Perhaps calling it ‘class’ is a tad forced now that it’s the two of us.

A month into it, we still love it, the learning together. Not a tinge of discomfort. I love the enthusiasm and wide eyes, he loves the multitude of things he learns every day and the challenges I carefully prepare for our daily journey.

There is no resentment over too much work. I do not do it on purpose, you see, I am not piling topics up just for the sake of it. I take cues. What can complement this and why add one more subject to the roster… which one? If there are questions about certain things during our dinner conversations, I make a mental note: to be added somehow to the learning.

Knowledge is a wonderful thing. A treasure and a privilege to acquire as we go. There is a lot to be acquired, a lot of dots to connects, a lot of connections to be made between bits that have been collected over the years… ‘Mom, did you know that so many words came from the Greeks?’ The meaning of this word and the next, once you know where they come from you know what they reveal, you can understand, not just memorize.

You can ask why and you learn to delight in finding the answers. It will not be easy all the time, but that’s where the beauty and the challenge lies. In carrying on for the love of it.

That is the gift I intend for my sons.

Yet once I step out of the home learning bubble, the world turns a few degrees colder at times, with what has now become the most often asked question about our homeschooling adventure.

‘Do you follow the school curriculum?’

When I say I do not, eyes grow big and uneasiness settles in like a dark cloud.

I tell of the wonder of learning based on what interests him, I tell of my wonder of seeing it all. I could tell of the slight apprehension that all worthy adventures have attached to them, whether you’re the guide or the guided (and these roles switch constantly, as I have come to know during my earlier teaching experiences), the humble nature of the guiding process itself when you immerse yourself in it fully, the expanse of all that learning-to-be. There is much to tell but many people stop at the school curriculum.

Guiding ourselves based on a curriculum can only take us so far and our children not so far, I believe. If they start losing interest because, as you and I know, a curriculum is a ‘one size fits all’ when learning is everything but, then what? Can we revive it every time and are we aware of it flopping?

There is nothing wrong with guidelines, and there is nothing wrong with curricula if they work for some children.  We have to be honest though, and apply critical thinking: do they truly work? I believe in seeing the spark in a child’s eye, curiosity satisfied and primed for more at the same time; I’d hold onto that for guidance, rather than hold onto a curriculum that might give me the feeling of a job done, when what I should be after is a job well done. Not just by my standards, mind you, but by of the ones who learn.

I am but a guide, grateful and humble and awed, all at once, by the steps children take to learn, by their joy of prying open the world with their minds… I am not sure if curriculum has any recommendations on that….

Thoughts?

Play, Said Summer. And We Played

By

On June 30, 2014

In Kamloops, Life Stories, Motherhood

20140624_193114We had cherry pie for dinner. One of my mom’s recipes, possibly the only one I follow to the letter. Because I miss the very taste, not my own rendition…

We had been hiking on steep trails at Peterson Creek in late afternoon; bright faces, tired legs, ‘I cannot take one more step’ and all the landscape waiting to cling to our eyes. It did.

Tired boys, happy to have overcome steep and hot and slippery sandy slopes, having a cherry picnic right at the top and painting their hands red with juice. How sticky and red can you get, you wonder? Very.

KissClouds dripping rain in the distance, kissing the earth and traveling like a colorful gypsy circus all over the land, never to stop, always singing wild water songs, drops drumming on thirsty, dusty land… never to stop, never tired of traveling, the water circus…

CrossingWe started on a trail by the creek; I crossed a bridge to the side we’ve never been on, they crossed the creek… shady and cool, weeds growing high as trees and smells growing with them, intoxicatingly sweet with every step.

Is the park going to make us allergic like last spring? No. Remember, mom?

I remember. The trip had to be cut short, jolly boys turned into jelly boys, lying on green lawns, overcome with sneezes and itchiness and drowsy arms and legs not able to carry them home.

Maybe if I don’t think allergy, it won’t happen. Right?

We waited until after five to step out. The afternoon of writing for mom and boys; old poems revived, new stories by boys, with boys, and chuckles to mark this funny thing and this and that…

Lunch was a big crunchy salad from the garden and vintage records… The Beatles and Elvis and all the stories of why they were so good; hungry boys listen to stories, eat and laugh. Now about that guitar in the basement… and the one in the office. A carousel of laughter… Lunch is green today. It grins and plays.

Late morning saw boys building Lego rockets and castles and matching astronauts with fantasy creatures in a game that had everything in it… The game was never better, they said; it must be the wild mixing of characters.

Transcending the Saturday tradition, we had pancakes for breakfast.

Please? Pancake morning again? Yes, again, please? OK.

Raspberries too, please? Yes, plenty. If you bring your manners to the table this time.

You mean with the pinky up? Laughter, silly laughter, the wildest bird of all, with a nest right in the middle of the dining table… snickering boys, table manners falling apart before they reach the table… boys are boys, mom, we are not dainty.

We started the day with morning cuddles. Just a bit, they say. Just so, under the soft white blanket. Dreams? …They don’t remember.Dreams

They came running, like they usually do, as soon their eyes peeled open. Sleepy feet on the floor, plop, plop, seeking cuddles, trading cuddles for all those forgotten, lost dreams.

Morning crawled in… birds songs and a breeze woke me up. I moved slowly, tippy toe… never wake sleepy boys, just take a peek to see them sleep, people-to-be… dreams and sighs and fresh faces lumped into sweetness that is sweet even when it’s naughty…

It is seven past, all is quiet, open windows with drapes fluttering as if the house is asleep and breathing… It is. Good night.

If You Could Stop It, Would You?

By

On May 27, 2014

In Life Stories, Motherhood, Self-improvement

Monday morning came heavy and grey; a merciless headache and sore throat included.

Some chores had to be done, less so taking the boys to school. Pink eye on one, a bit of a cough on the other, the house felt like a camp where the blind learned to lead the blind. Everyone stayed home.

What then?

Two boys and a sea of Lego has but one big consequence. Creativity; with loads to spare. Breakfast anyone? Later, yes. Clink-clank, get started.

Head aching, I returned to bed for a nap. Close the door, soft covers wrapped around… Sleep.

Clink-clank. Pieces of Lego being fished out of the pile, not a good one, let it get buried by unearthing others. Clink clank, busy boys’ hands, eyes intently following the trajectory of fingers into the pile. Clink clank… Let’s be quiet, Mom is sleeping, says one boy to the other. Boys shushing, a cluster of whispers hanging by the door but not daring to come in.

Head stubbornly pounding, I wake up… I hear them whisper, playing… Memories of teeny boys snuggled against my body, smelling sweet and having their round arms all scrunched against their soft tummies, PJs all crumpled up, hiding behind their round knees… Nestled around like little birds, cozy and quiet… Please, there will be no growing up from now on.

PortraitWhy grow up, what’s there to do, what’s there to see?… You see a lot more when you’re stopping at every step to observe the world, you’re doing that now. So stay… Was the world richer then? It was, it is still…

Clink-clank… Asleep, awake, I should not miss a moment with them. When I wake up they’ll be older… Nothing stays the same. Lego people with short-lived bodies, crossing boundaries of time and becoming astronauts a minute or two after roping a plastic cow because they were cowboys…

Clink-clank, just two minutes ago… boys were small and words were as round as their fingers pointing to things they could not call by name because they did not know the words. Laughter…Shh, Mom is sleeping, let’s be quiet. Whispers flying around like soft butterflies, boys voices…

Memories of a new baby growing inside my womb, tiredness, joy. Big brother cuddled to read a book, eyes bright and ready, mornings starting too early, but time was ours, the big secret I found out about later…Big brown eyes, seas of love enveloping all my sleepiness and making it right. Can we read, mama? I read slow, he laughs, I read it again just to hear the chuckle, and then again… Laughter hides in the creases of my heart made especially for that. Little boy laughing and smelling sweet, asking for stories, more and more… Keep asking, make me remember I should never stop telling stories, because then you’ll laugh; when you laugh, you stay, time is ours…

TimeThe rushed river of life take laughter and round fingers pointing to worlds new and fantastic, days of unexpected joy, ‘just because’ hugs and kisses… the rushed river takes them all like small boats floating to islands of unchartered self, islands I did not know of until they appeared when little boys were born. Because they had to have places to live in. Tell me again how I was when I was born… They ask of the world only I have seen, the world of them joining mine.

I doze off, clink-clank… I wake up to a sweet burned smell that snaked its way into the bedroom and lands on my pillow. The boys, they must be hungry… Something’s cooking…

The sea of Lego is still in the living room, I step carefully over boats and forts and cowboys who lost their hats… the smell, what’s the smell? Little boy lifts bright hazelnut eyes from the sea of Lego. “I helped Tony make pancakes, for when you wake up…So you’ll feel better.”
Big brother chirps in … “They may be a bit salted… and a bit burned, we kinda guessed the recipe…” Big boy, wide-eyed and smiling, surprised at his own sudden growth into knowing how, explains some more with a hug. “To make you feel better…”

You don’t cry when that happens. You are not allowed. How could you not… You can, please know that you should. Because you see, the tears, hidden as they are, are but the big boulders that will stop the mad rush of the river, the boats will be pushed into green fields to become forget-me-nots… and you will never forget this, that and all that has been…

You want to keep them there… the clink-clanks of games past and present, the snuggles, the hugs, the surprises, the little hands creating wonders and not knowing the words to name them and inventing a whole new world of wonder just for you… The worries even, you know how to do it all as long as they are there, near… not letting go.

Don’t grow, stay. What then?

FlightThere’s much to see as they grow, much to learn and then there is the time when they’ll want to break free… They won’t go far without looking back. If you let them go, never clipping their wings, if you love them enough to never clip their wings, they’ll have wings strong enough to bring them back…

I will know it when it comes. Time will be the teacher of all. Life as it comes… Fluid, beautiful, clink-clank of boats that will keep on floating down a rushed river which you’ll never stop entirely but sometimes… Go on, dip your toes, live, grow; grateful for seeing it all, for salty pancakes and for the hugs that came with it. Better?

Pancakes were salted that Monday morning, a bit burned and the most amazing I’ve ever tasted. Like in fairy tales, taking a bite, just one, keeps the magic there, keeps you there and keeps them too… Stay, don’t grow yet. And when you will, will you be back every now and then?

Clink-clank… the Lego sea. It’s a sea we’ve learned to sail for now, square waves and all, they’ve never been rounder in my heart… We should be on it for a while. Clink-clank.

Again?

Birds And Bees – Are We Doing It Right?

By

On March 31, 2014

In Armchair Mayor Column, Life Stories, Motherhood

I thought I’d write about our last hike in Peterson Creek; about how every season transforms the park and how you always have the feeling of being in the right place when you hike there.

Yet fuchsia-infused sunsets and promises of spring in city wilderness parks are somewhat clouded by a rude reality: hypersexualizing of children and the high price we all pay, children first of all.

From elementary school girls sporting borderline risqué attires to high school students exchanging inappropriate content over their personal electronic devices, to swift word exchanges during school hours that send kids flying to online search engines where Pandora’s X-rated box is waiting to be opened, the world of children resembles less and less what it used to look like a few years ago.

It is striking to compare today’s faces to the ones that smile from all the old class photos that hang in the hallways of my sons’ school. Clothing spelled ‘children’ and their smiles were innocent. So what, you’ll say, children of today are innocent too.

True, many are, but there’s an early expiration date on that innocence. Exposure to inappropriateness happens early and surreptitiously. If you doubt this, ask your children. And hope they’ll have the courage to tell, because there’s lots to tell and it’s not pretty.

This is by no means a new topic: The age of information forces us to revisit it often as it dumps too much on our children’s heads, too soon. Parents, as per our parenting job description, have to somehow catch it all before the worst happens.

A month ago or so a few Kamloops high school students have been charged with possession of child pornography. The same happened on Vancouver Island, and in New Brunswick and in Quebec. It happens in the US, Australia and in Europe too.

Children know it’s wrong (at least some of them realize it) and they know they shouldn’t, but temptation and peer pressure rocks their budding foundations and they do it anyway hoping they won’t get caught.

But they do, and punishment ensues. Lessons to learn? Hardly so. It looks more like a case of treating the symptoms without addressing the cause.

Children of all ages are being introduced to the world of photographs early on by the adults around them just until they learn to do ‘selfies.’

There is an emphasis on sex wherever you turn your head, because, we all know, sex sells.

That the internet world abounds with sexual content is no longer news. Adults defend their right to access it as they please and to that we say ‘to each their own.’ What about children though?

According to the latest estimates, the number of pornographic websites, paid and free access, is approximately 25 million and growing. What is new though is how children can access these websites and how many of them display increasingly violent content that would never fit into a normal loving relationship.

It’s controversial, but it cannot be brushed aside either.

Children lose their innocence too soon and there’s nothing right about that. Dismissing the obvious by saying ‘It’s the 21st century, about time we emerge from the dark ages of taboos,’ makes adults part of the problem when children are charged with possession or distribution of child pornography.

If the revealing photo of 13-year-old is found in possession of a 13-year-old, logic dictates that we are looking at a case of distribution of child pornography by children.
What’s fair then?

Parental controls will never keep children fully protected. There is no school body or app or program able to keep children safe if the parents are not stepping up to the plate to talk about it.

That’s right. An honest, first-for-everyone kind of talk that brings awareness and lets children know they are not alone in facing a monster that is as tempting as it is scary. I don’t mean healthy sexuality, but its crooked version that sees children punished later on for something that could’ve been avoided.

Kind of like feeding children too much carrot juice and punishing them for turning orange.

We have to face a blatant truth: we are perhaps the first generation that will not talk just about birds and bees but about how bad it can be when they are out of control. Yes, we have to include the ‘porn talk,’ because porn is, you should know, something many children are exposed to at the ages of 10 or 11.

The idea that internet providers could install filters to prevent children’s access to online pornography was met with disgruntlement by most adults. What about people’s freedom to choose? There’s truth there.

But somewhere in between us adults having the freedom to exercise our adult choices as we please, a sexually-imbued free-for-all internet content and rushed existences that allow for little or any breaks to keep track of things, there are gaps wide enough to swallow our children whole and leave us nothing but the regret that we should’ve done more when we had a chance.

Now is the chance. Today.

Bubble-wrapping Our Children Doesn’t Work

By

On March 8, 2014

In Armchair Mayor Column, Life Stories, Motherhood

Originally published as a column in The Armchair Mayor’s News on March 7, 2014. 

It is snowing as I write this. Shoveling (in replay) notwithstanding, new snow always promises fun.

It is almost noon; lunch break for school kids, most of which is spent playing outside.
But, the snow has to stay on the ground, they are told. For safety reasons. I had first become acquainted with this safety measure when my oldest was in grade 1. Things have tumbled since.

Snowman building is allowed as long as you are a primary student and your hands stay close to the ground while rolling the snow. For everyone’s (un-fun) safety.
Kids don’t see it that way. They want to play with snow, and snowballs fights are a fact of life.

The risks associated with the occasional misguided snowball are an accepted, worthy downside. Still, can’t do it.

Sure they can find something else to entertain themselves with. On non-snowy days, tag sounds like a good option. Except that some BC schools have now adopted a no-touch rule, due to a few injuries caused by hands-on playing. The kind of games you and I played when we were little and fear was not a decision factor.

Children are encouraged to say ‘hand off’ to each other whenever they are being touched – friendly shoulder taps included. Or an adult will remind them.

Where to from here?

Children explore the world using all their sense and touch is a big one. They need to play, and years of research showed that playing is not just playing, but learning, developing, and understanding. We can state the general rules and help them understand what’s acceptable and what’s not, but they need to figure out the rest, like all generations of kids have.

How safe can we make the bubble wrapping around our children before they lose contact with reality? We are already witnessing communication misfires among children, young and old.

No-touch rules will never prevent bullying or its new vile form, cyberbullying. Nor will it help keep children safe from getting injured on the school grounds.

Children get hurt. They fall or they play in ways that may just see one of them hurt sometimes. Things are pushed too far occasionally and lessons are learned. Scraped knees are part of growing up, so are squabbles among peers.

Things can get confusing for the youngest ones with too many of these safety rules in place. What’s appropriate and what’s not? They might wonder about bullying and boundaries, and see everyone as a potential aggressor.

Safety redefined.

The first time another mom caught a glimpse of my youngest son, six at the time, carving a stick with his pocket knife while sitting on the porch, she raised a brow. I explained that he has to sit while carving, or else the knife goes, and there is no playing with it as a toy.

She did not buy it. Knives are dangerous. True. So are bows and arrows. But if we teach children how to use them safely and be firm about it, they will. Somehow children know when we mean it. Or learn soon enough.

There is a high chance that a child who has been taught about sharp objects and was allowed to use them only under certain conditions – carving marshmallow roasting sticks perhaps? – will hold onto that knowledge for life and even teach others too.

Instilling a sense of responsibility is part of parenting. And appreciated by children. That’s how it has always been. Bubble wrapping never worked to protect children from getting in trouble after all.

Same goes for playing. Rough housing is important for a child’s development. That it sometimes becomes rougher than it should be is true, but that’s how boundaries are learned and rules are set in place by parents.

Interestingly enough, children left to solve their own issues – basic rules in place – may just learn important life skills. Negotiation, reinforcing of boundaries, fairness, forgiveness and learning to stand up for themselves or for someone else who is being mistreated, these skills are all learned during hands-on playing.

They’ll also be useful later on when children sail into the often dubious waters of online socializing.

If kept too tightly wrapped and helicoptered by adults, children will either assume that the world is a cushiony place where as long as you don’t touch something or somebody you will not get in trouble, or that everyone intends to hurt them, or they’ll learn to be sneaky about hurting others. Or all three. No one wins.

Keeping children safe should involve allowing them to play, make mistakes, have adults teach them about rules, learn about boundaries, honesty, and most of all, reminding them about the old rule that has kept many alive and thriving: ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’

Page 3 of 6

Previous

Next

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén