Originally intended to simply focus on book reviews, over time, KaliDesautelsReads has morphed into its own entity.
I write about issues that are near to my heart, be they political, feminist, motherhood, mental health, or, as the title holds, books.
A thirty-something Canadian woman in my mid-thirties, I have been “super married” to my high school sweetheart since 2006, and together we have two crazy, clever, kind, hilarious, wonderful kids.
My first book – How Not To Blog: Finding Myself, One Post at a Time is available on Amazon (in eBook formats for you clever tech readers, and paperback for those of us who love that new book smell!)
I have tried a podcast – it’s still on Apple and Google Podcasts – but writing is where my heart is.
My life changed dramatically when my husband was diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer in 2018, and I am now a writer for a leading Canadian Cancer Non-Profit.
I am lucky enough to have a family that loves me and pushes me to be my best, even if it is outside of my cushiony comfort zone. I have a village of friends that nourish me, mentally, and spiritually.
Welcome to my thoughts. Sit down. Stay a while. Enjoy a cup of coffee!
When summer fruits are on hand, my family and I find it so easy to meet our daily fruit/veg consumption! A bowl of cherries or strawberries, cleaned in a bowl on the centre of the table make an ideal after school/work snack! #QuestionOfTheDay via @RiplApp #summer #fruit #cherries #berries #vintage #antique #dish #red #kids #mom #momlife #momhacks #lifehacks #nomnom #follow #follow4follow #f4f #s4s #sfs #kalidesautelsreads
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Zero waste may be out of my reach today, but here goes nothing… isn’t the environment and my kids’ future worth the try?? #simplify #simplicity #zerowastehome @zerowastehome #refuse #reject #reduce #reuse #recycle #rot #compost #green #home #kids #better #books #bookstagram #book #read #giveitatry #giveitago #reading #try #follow #follow4follow #followforfollow #blog #kalidesautelsreads
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As a political leftist, John McCain’s new memoir may seem to be an unusual choice, but I have great respect for McCain as a person who places his country and values above all else. I may not agree with many of his views, but I respect him, and the love and pride he demonstrates for the US. This book is filled with facts and opinions, broken down by situation, be it Benghazi, or his run for President with Sarah Palin. He takes ownership for his missteps and benchmarks himself and his country to the ideals of the Constitution of the United States. He is an example of how remaining open minded and allowing oneself to work with and learn from those with opposing views can allow for greater change.
Because it is not easy to go to sleep without a book.
I am so excited to dive into Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo” by Zora Neale Hurston. Have you read this since it hit shelves last month? What are your thoughts?
❤️❤️❤️ In 1970, the 2nd Wave of the Feminist Movement was beginning to gain traction. The women at Newsweek had the ironic job of helping to publish a news magazine describing the activists’ positions, while being subject to sexism at the office. Talented women were kept in “female ghettos” of research and “copy girls”, secretarial and typing pools, told that they would “never make it as a writer at Newsweek”. Lynn Povich was one such woman, who describes the civil suit brought by women working at the magazine against the magazine. Following the stories and lives of several of the women who agitated at their workplace, Povich describes the situation at Newsweek in the 1960s that led to the 1970 lawsuit. She compares the prevailing sentiments at the time and compares them to the challenges women face in the workforce today. As a working woman, I was inspired by the work these women did and feel grateful for the road that they paved for me, and women like me. Upon reading Povich’s books, I feel duty-bound to continue their work, leaving the workforce a more hospitable environment for the women who come after me. This book is definitely worth reading, especially for those with an interest in the women’s movement, in labour law, or in Human Resources. The book is approachable and vibrantly detailed. (304 pgs)
I picked up A Simple Favor mainly because @blakelively has done an awesome job promoting her new movie based on the book. I was curious about #whathappenedtoemily. Well, I am sorry to say that this is an instance where I hope the movie is better than the book. Written in 3 first person point of view narratives, plus blog posts, this is meant to be a psychological thriller wherein one of the main characters goes missing, and her husband, best friend and son are left behind to sort out what has happened. Instead of building tension, the first character, Stephanie, is an annoying character, that seems to have been created to make fun of today’s mommying culture; Sean, the husband, is a weird, not very developed character… Bell threw in literally every, typical mystery trope and waited to see the result. It was a knock off version of Gone Girl, but without Gillian Flynne’s ability to build intrigue. I would only recommend this to someone who was desperately in need of something to read… (304 pgs)
Seven Fallen Feathers is a non-fiction account of the 7 indigenous teens that died in Thunder Bay, Ontario, between 2000 and 2011 when they left their northern Ontario reservations to attend high school in the city. Talaga originates the story with the death of a residential school student named Chanie Wenjack, who ran away from his residential school, only to turn up dead and there being little, to no investigation into the case. In Canada, residential schools were a terrible reality for decades that seized First Nations children, and gathered them to a school far from their families in an effort to “kill the Indian in the child” (a disgusting real quote from the inception of the residential schools). In 1989, Canada finally closed the residential schools, due to the many abuses children suffered in the schools. But we did not improve the education system for First Nations children. In Seven Fallen Feathers, Talaga discusses the fact that there is no choice for secondary education near their reservations, and therefore are still required to relinquish their children to the government if they wish for them to receive a higher education. These children are sent to live in a city core, unsupervised and without parental guardianship, simply a curfew and school staff, along with a home stay parent, who is not required to provide any supervision. 5 out of 7 of these children were found beaten and dead in a Thunder Bay river, one died at home suddenly and one died in custody, and in every instance, within hours of the bodies being discovered, before a post-mortem had been completed, Thunder Bay Police ruled the deaths accidental, and closed their investigations. It took more than a decade before a Coroner’s Inquest was called. This book is an important book to read. I truly believe that it is important for all North Americans to read Talaga’s work, and to educate themselves as to the state of Aboriginal affairs. (376 pgs) #firstnations #canada #aboriginal #residentialschool #death #teen #truthandreconciliation #read #bookstagram #book #books #reading #blog #follow
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It’s Mother’s Day in Canada today. I spent the day with and celebrating some incredible women, both moms and maternal surrogates (non-moms who project the maternal instinct of love to their friends and families). While I celebrated, I was also thinking about how crazy motherhood is. I read a lot… I know, it’s a shock, but try to keep your mind from being blown… and in some of my books, I find a lot of emphasis placed on finding the root of our behaviours; often, the roots are seeded in childhood, for good or for bad. This leads to a whole discussion on whether one’s mother was distant or overbearing, a tiger mom or a flake, if she was open about sex or insisted that sex before marriage was terrible, if your mother played favourites, or made mistakes, or, or, or… What is not often discussed, other than in parenting books aimed at making us feel better as moms that we are not completely screwing our kids up, is the fact that becoming a mother does not suddenly bestow us with an ancient maternal wisdom that will allow us to know how to handle every situation that comes our way. We are still the same women we were before we gave birth, just now with a new responsibility.
When my grandmother gave birth to her first child, she was 19 years old and had been married for 11 months. (I did the math for you…) When my mother gave birth for the first time, (me) she was 22 years old. I don’t know about you, but I would not say that my problem solving and wisdom skills kicked until much later than 19 or 22. When I was 19, I was suffering through my first depressive episode, while I struggled to learn Portuguese at University (Não, I still do not speak Portuguese). When I was 22, I was panicking about graduating from university and desperately hoping my boyfriend of 6 years would propose to me. These are not mindsets of a woman set to instil sage thoughts into the mind of another human. Today, there is discussion that adulthood does not truly begin until at least the mid-twenties, but possibly as late as our 30s (Daily Mail – 30 is the new 21).
My mom did a wonderful job raising my brother, sister and I. She raised creative individuals with a drive to succeed in whatever our chosen calling should be. My sister is a PhD student, and single mother, adeptly handling both; my brother is the Creative Director of a Media Publishing house (Shameless Proud Sister Plug). As the saying goes – the kids are alright. That said, whenever I am expected to confront my anxieties, fears, neuroses, depression, etc., I am directed to consider what might have occurred in my childhood to make me behave the way that I do. So, on this Mother’s Day, as a mother, allow me to call Bull sh*t on this being the only or rather pervading reasons why I am a neurotic loon.
I am not saying that I do not believe that events in our past cause us to be the way that we are – they do; and I am not saying that moms do not mess up their kids – we do;what I am saying is on this Mother’s Day, consider cutting your mom some slack. She literally did the best she could (*please be aware that I am not referring to abusive, neglectful, or malicious women. I am referring to the moms who tried, and yet couldn’t always get it right).
When we were little, we genuinely believed that our Mommies knew everything. They were the most beautiful, the most amazing, the most perfect beings in the universe, and it was imperative that every question that popped into our heads be spewed directly at her, where she would immediately answer with a witty, cunning, intelligent response, lighting our way to also knowing everything, just like mommy.
When we got a bit older, we realized that sometimes, maybe, Mommy didn’t seem to know exactly everything, because after a few years at school, we came to realize that “because I said so” was not actually suitable response to questions; and neither was “to make little girls ask questions”.
When we became teenagers, many of us suddenly felt that these beacons of light, fun and beauty where actually old fussy ladies out to keep us from having fun. (I’ll admit that that wasn’t my belief, as I was born an old fussy lady, intent on stopping myself from having fun. I am pretty sure my mom would have encouraged a bit more fun on my part, had she had the chance.)
When we are older still, we begin to believe that our moms are not nearly as clever as we are, and how is it possible that my mother could not recite Clause 7 of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, 1982? I mean she was literally alive when that was signed!! (For the record, Section 7 states that “Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of the person and the right not to be deprived thereof except in accordance with the principles of fundamental justice”.)
Then we become adults and realize that between seeing her brilliance, and her flaws, our mom has become a fully actualized human, with her own pains, fears and anxieties. She may not have actually been made of sun beams and rainbows, but by god she knew how to get a stain out of a white shirt even if it had a black trim!!! She knew how to make a dinner for 5 plus any neighbourhood kids that stayed with essentially nothing in the fridge. She knew when we needed our heads stroked until 2AM, regardless of the fact that she had to get up for work tomorrow, as we cried our eyes out about a C on a math test.
But how did she know how to do that??? When I was placed in my mom’s arms at 22, she had no basis of comparison; she had no way of knowing if what she was about to do next, either by plan or by instinct, was the right thing for me. She had no idea whether she was setting me up for success or for failure, all she knew was that she loved me and she was willing to try her best. When my grandmother was 19, and had a baby girl, and was preparing to move from the Prairies to the West Coast, she had no idea how she would manage. She had no idea how to keep a baby alive, but she knew she had to and that she loved my mom. (And in her case, she didn’t even have the benefit of automobile safety!)
With my kids, I have no idea if I am screwing them up for life. I have no idea if I am involved enough, or too distant. I have no idea if I am projecting the image of a confident woman for them to to model. I have no idea how to tell my daughter to make friends at school, or to not worry so much, because I don’t know how to make friends or not worry!! All that I know is that I love her, and I want the best for her. And that everyday, I will keep trying.
… and that, god-willing, when she inevitably reads something that tells her that all of her adult problems are rooted in my inability to parent correctly, she will see me as a whole person, who had a great responsibility, no training, and was just doing my best.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of the moms of the world, who are secretly just regular human beings and have no idea whether what we are doing is right. I am right there with you. ❤️
This woman is amazing. I lucked out when I moved in next door to her. Not only is she my neighbour, but she is my bff. The first time she saved my life was when we first moved in and I set fire to my gazebo with my BBQ. 10 years later, she continues to save my life over and over – be it dropping what she is doing to rescue my kids when traffic or work gets in the way of getting to a sick little or a closing daycare centre, or long walks and talks through the neighbourhood about anything. This is the woman who continues to sit with me when I fall asleep during a movie night, who pours her heart out, and to whom I can in return, the woman who stands in as a mommy to my kids when I can’t be there for a mid school day concert. Happy Mother’s Day to the woman I am so grateful to call my beloved, beautiful, amazing best friend. ❤️❤️❤️
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The 2nd book from #GensLitList – following @estherperelofficial’s fascinating #matingincaptivity. Sex Positivity is not something I have ever been great at. Most of my life was an unending march to be a “Good Girl”… and I have to say, even admitting that I am reading this book, recommended by @nowandgen is making me blush. But hey, as the quote goes – the best stuff is just outside of your comfort zone.
Kali J Desautels 