I have often said that being a parent is like letting your heart jump outside of your body and run through traffic. You can teach your heart to look both ways before crossing the street, stay away from strange cars and take the safest route home, but in the end you have to let your heart take the risk.
I was ten years old when my Nana Waterhouse passed away. I wore a yellow skirt with a white blouse to her funeral. Yellow was her favorite colour then and is one of mine still. I remember that day. I remember a lot of things. My Nana did not.
The greatest test of any marriage is the onset of flu season. One good bout of the flu can wreak havoc on every level of your partnership. For the last month and half, that’s what the Carpenter and I have been juggling.
It’s not nice to poke fun at your spouse. You should never tease him/her. Sometimes you have to keep your big mouth shut. Actually, sometimes it’s more fun (and far more effective) to say nothing at all. Silence speaks volumes.
The predictions for 2012 are rather dire now, aren’t they? I confess there was a time when the rumors and bad Hollywood movies had me anticipating the worst: destruction, demise, reality television, old rock band reunion tours, etc.
The tree is up. The lights are on. The little village on the shelf is lit with the Nativity scene. The house smells of pomander balls (to mask the odour of our ancient dog) and it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas, except for one thing: the naked wall.
It goes without saying that I adore my Carpenter. He works hard. He is a good man. He still gives me butterflies in my stomach that cannot be confused with gas. So, this Christmas, I am thinking only of his needs.
At this festive time of year, when the mayhem and merriment seem too much to bear and the to-do list is longer than the gift receipts, I think of the one woman who inspires me to keep calm and carry on: Mrs. Claus.
I knew one day it would happen. We were going to have “the talk” with the kids. The end of innocence is inevitable. Sigh.
Being a parent is kind of like being a Toronto Maple Leaf fan. There are a lot of rough years with ups and downs. There is always some critic who tells you what is wrong with your game plan. Fights happen. And yet, you have faith. You cheer on. You suffer in silence. With great patience you believe that one-day you will achieve your goal: your child will turn out okay.
I think the best thing about being a man is their ability to sleep. No matter what is going on, the stresses in life or the worries at work, crying babies or the neighbour’s lawn mower, men can sleep through anything. Men nap without guilt too. They even have sports like football as an excuse to doze.
