What’s your favourite childhood memory?
Is it a routine thing you did with a parent? Is it an annual family tradition? Or a specific moment in time? Is it the noise of the first pretend concert you did for your parents in the living room? Or the quiet of being in your mom’s arms on a sick day? Is it the day you first met your sibling in a hospital room? Or is it weekly dinners at grandma’s house? It is a big moment, a celebration, a vacation? Or is it a small, tiny, inconsequential one?
So I have not been sharing all the articles I’ve been doing for CBC, but I think this one’s a good one for parents to read!
“How We Plan on Raising a Money-Smart Child”
Four years ago, I decided that while I was great and perfectly sufficient as the focal point of my own existence, I needed something more. I needed to have a footprint bigger than the one I had at the time, to make an impact or contribute to an effort that was bigger than my journey, to be awakened by something more than just my daily 7 am alarm.
For this Father’s day, to get the story straight from the horse’s mouth, I asked the spouse how becoming a father had changed his identity, his personality, his view of the world. How has fatherhood changed his purpose in life?
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Meh.”
The man is a prolific poet with his words. Continue reading
As far as the parenting world is concerned, the only struggle greater than that of raising a child is to lose one. It’s a struggle of loss, of grief, of identity, of recovery, of hope.
And it is one that is often kept silent. It’s a topic seldom openly discussed, and consequently one that most people are inept at dealing with. Here, I wish to do my part to normalize this conversation, to show the inside workings of the mind of a parent who loses a child and how they manage to keep on going. Continue reading
Mother’s Day is coming up and hopefully your spouse and kids have been emotionally blackmailed enough by TV commercials (or you) to buy you supermarket flowers. Or a diamond or two.
It’s a happy day for mommies by and large. It is the one day we are recognized for the aches and pains of bringing human life into the world and then hauling it around. Our kids make us burnt toast for breakfast and we gleam like the sad saps we are. Continue reading
Clink, clink, clink.
I watch her through the rising steam of my cup of chai.
She brings the pestle down again and again onto the small, round, red hot peppers being doomed to the destiny of powdery flakiness in the mortar. She sits on the floor, the gold bangles on her dark wrists gleaming in the midday sun streaming in through one of the kitchen windows. Continue reading