Life Love Mom

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  • I Am Slowly Going Crazy….

    I Am Slowly Going Crazy….

    I remember as a kid singing this Sharon, Lois, and Bram song over and over. At the time, this song about slowly going crazy and losing your mind was on repeat in my house. Not because I felt crazy but because it was fun to laugh about losing your mind. Oh, to be a child of the 80s again…

    Somewhere along the line, something switched. It wasn’t that I moved from counting forwards to backwards as the song goes, but more so that my mindset changed. As an adult in an environment where talking about mental health is more common, the idea of slowly going crazy has taken on a brand new meaning. I know there are times when we all feel like we’re a little crazy. The word itself is fraught with negative connotations. Being called crazy implies a lack of control, and an inability to regulate. And yet, there is this incredible juxtaposition happening. It has become more socially acceptable to talk about your feelings and inability to cope 100% of the time. More and more, we see campaigns, social media posts, and books all about self-care and the importance of mental health. I am grateful for the increasing openness around this topic. When we think of mental health struggles, we think less about a person chained in a psych ward and more about a regular human.

    I am here to continue the discussion and be as open and honest about my own struggles, in hopes that it opens the door for someone else. I have always been somewhat of an anxious person, striving for perfection academically. I don’t know whether I was able to manage it better when I was younger or the stressors were simply smaller, but it was never really an issue. It was just a way of life. As an adult, and more so as a mother, I felt my anxiety spin further out of control. Again, I felt that I was able to manage it. Maybe I was, or maybe I wasn’t. I will never know if it wasn’t as difficult for me or it was less socially acceptable to discuss. What I do know, is I was definitely not as aware of the importance of my mental health as I am now.

    The irony of all this, of course, is that my own undergraduate degree is in psychology. I loved learning about how the brain works in the university and in particular adored my abnormal psychology classes. At one time thinking I might pursue a career in school psychology, how the brain works fascinated me. How we deal with trauma, conflict, and aversion was my main focus in school. But there is there a reason they say doctors make the worst patients. Not to say that I am a doctor, but the analogy still rings true.

    I have a distinct memory of a few years back when I knew I was out of control. I can feel it like it was yesterday, although I couldn’t tell you the specific dates. I can close my eyes and I am back in that place. I had been experiencing panic attacks, and for the most part, I was able to keep it to myself. I knew that something wasn’t right but I tried to power through it. One day, I was driving and had a panic attack so severe I had to pull over. It scared me because it was the first time I felt truly out of control. I was by myself in the car but could only think about what might happen if I wasn’t. I sat in the parking lot as my hands and feet tingled from my shallow breathing and knew I needed help. I went to see my doctor the next day and a combination of medications and therapy ensued. Neither could work independently, they needed to work in tandem with one another.

    Today things are better but I am most certainly a work in progress. If I can take anything from this journey, it is that it is a marathon not a sprint… but all without a finish line. I have days where I feel incredibly in control. I feel like a superhero who can handle anything thrown at me. Other days, I feel triggered by the smallest thing. I can feel the tightness in my chest and the clenching of my fists.

    Having a support system, as cliche as it sounds, is integral. There is something very normalizing and reassuring about being open about your struggles. Our failsafe is to reject what we don’t understand or make us uncomfortable, or to humourize it. Even now I often refer to my medication as my “anti-crazy pills”. I know that isn’t what they are, but for some reason making light of the situation makes it feel more manageable.

    And this is what I have come to terms with – the new normal. It the normal that things don’t have to be perfect. The normal that mental health needs to take priority. The normal that needing help and asking for it doesn’t make you weak – it actually makes you stronger. And the normal that keeping things inside is as unhealthy as any other physical ailment.

    This is life. Love, mom.

  • Resolutions: The Promises We Love To Hate, And Hate To Keep

    Resolutions: The Promises We Love To Hate, And Hate To Keep

    Happy New Year! I cannot believe that another year has flown by. I know it is cliche to say, but it truly feels like we blinked and the year came to a close. I think it’s because we spent so much time inside, and crossing our fingers that things will improve. Cheers to making it through the past year, and getting ready for the one ahead. I have a lot coming down the pipes. A lot of change is happening this year, and I am looking forward to some amazing opportunities. I can’t wait to share as things unfold.

    A new year is synonymous with our resolve to do be and be better. We often talk about our resolutions to make this year the best one yet. Resolutions are a funny kind of magic. Every year, on January 1, we make a promise to ourselves to change something. Whatever it is, it is usually something we have been thinking about for quite some time. Resolutions aren’t decisions we make on a whim. They are the “thing” that we most want to change about our lives: get healthier, work less, find more balance, do yoga, travel… the bucket list goes on and on. These are the things we want to do but are being stopped from doing in some way, shape or form. Maybe the timing is wrong, maybe the motivation just isn’t there, or there are too many work commitments. There is always a reason why it can’t happen in July, October, or December.

    And then comes magical January 1st. The shiny date of eternal optimism. The promise of a new year and all the potential that it holds. We can do anything on January 1st! We can accomplish all our goals! Anything we set our minds to! We are SUPER PEOPLE! January 1st makes things easy – we can eat all the kale, do all the push-ups, and dream-board all the vacations.

    January 2nd, however… that is a whole other story. This is when our reality sets in, and we realize we are in it for the long haul. Those bright shiny goals and dreams begin to turn into work. We have to hold ourselves accountable to the goals we set just a day before. We cannot give up so soon.

    Now before you stop reading and think that this is the most pessimistic blog post ever, hear me out. Where you think this is going is not necessarily where we will end up. Which, ironically, is exactly what happens with resolutions. By designating a specific day for change, and hoping that we will maintain a new mindset for 365 days, we are setting ourselves up to fail. I’m not saying change isn’t possible, or that goal-setting isn’t important, because neither of those things is true. But don’t forget – the definition of insanity Is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. If, historically, we have trouble keeping our resolutions why do we set them every year? Why do we think that somehow THIS January 1st will be different?

    Instead, I propose a different mindset. Do you. Be you. Do what makes you happy. Endeavour to better yourself physically, mentally, socially, or academically. But don’t tie it to a magical date and expect to follow it for 12 months. Instead set short-term goals with attainable timelines. But don’t wait for the beginning of the year. Start any day! Strive to vision-board your long-term goals and do all the things. But don’t set a year-long timeline. Make them any length! Goals are meant to be ever-changing, evolving, and growing with us. We don’t need to put ourselves in the “new years resolution” box. By doing so, we set ourselves up to be disappointed. There is too much pressure tied into these resolutions, and we simply end up waiting until the following year to start again.

    So for the next 12 months, in a year that is already setting up to be a doozy, let’s take it day-by-day. Let’s set goals that are meaningful and attainable, and work towards them one day at a time. Let’s be kind to ourselves and give ourselves grace. Will I be doing this all the time? Absolutely not. Is this easier to type than follow through on? You’d better believe it. But I’m trying, just like everyone else.

    This is life. Love, Mom.

  • How To Become A Pinterest Mom

    How To Become A Pinterest Mom

    The idea of a Pinterest mom is simple, really. You spend your free time making Halloween costumes, organizing your home with countless woven baskets, baking healthy meals from scratch and making school lunches filled with cucumbers shaped like flowers and sandwiches shaped like zoo animals. No outing is too small for full makeup and polished hair. You have everything together, and show off your impeccable fashion sense in perfectly curated social media posts. You make weekly trips to your local craft store to stock up on DIY projects you will do with your kids. This is the 21st-century reincarnation of an idea that has been around since the beginning of time.

    There are so many women who wish their lives looked more like a page out of a magazine (or social media square). They want their home to be impeccable, all facets of life to be perfect, and be able to do it all (and do it all perfectly). I’m here today to spill the secret of how to evolve into this ethereal being. So want to know how? Step 1: It will not happen 100% of the time. Step 2: Find a new dream.

    If this all sounds ridiculous, we can now be friends. The truth is, we may (or may not) have elements of this in all of us. We might be good at one aspect of our lives and struggling in others. To some extent, this insanity goes both ways. I know women who are amazing at certain things but get embarrassed when it is pointed out. Instead of celebrating our accomplishments, we minimize them to avoid feeling boastful or braggy. This shouldn’t be the case either! I have friends who sew their children’s Halloween costumes from scratch. I have friends to make their own snacks. I, myself try and bake when I can. But I also have friends who run out on October 30 to find a Halloween costume for their kids and those who stock up on snacks when there’s a sale at Walmart. Does one or the other make them bad mothers? Absolutely not! Each judge themselves for what they canning can’t do? Probably to some extent.

    Truly, though, why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we put so many unrealistic expectations on ourselves, and then feel awful when we don’t live up to them? In theory, we should be happy with our lives and not worry about what others think. But everyone knows that is not actually true. It is so much easier said than done to brush things off and say that we don’t care. Now let me be clear, I do know that some people genuinely don’t care and more power to them. But these women are the unicorns of our society.

    So why is the judgement of others so important to us? Why is our happiness affected by how others perceive our accomplishments, and how effectively we have our shit together? As the “judger”, it is a bit easier to explain. The psychology behind this is that we judge one another because we have inadequacies in ourselves. Those who judge others’ decisions are projecting their feelings onto others.

    And I can see how this is true, but what does it say about how we judge ourselves? What does it say about how we worry that we will be judged by others? The thinking is a defence mechanism of sorts. We plan for what others might think so we can know how to react. Or we judge ourselves first before anyone else gets a chance to. But why can’t we just be confident and have THAT be projected onto others? Tell anyone who thinks otherwise where they can go….? There is a saying that we are our own worst critics, and this fits well here.

    I have come to terms with the fact that I am not perfect. There are areas that I want to improve, for sure. But there is no way I can be everything to everyone. It is just mathematically impossible to give 100% in more than one place. My house will never be spotless (unless I’ve just finished a rage-cleaning binge). My kids will eat pre-packaged snacks. My life will not look like a Pinterest board.

    Most days, I am okay with this. I focus on the positives and what I AM able to accomplish on that day. I shrug off my own insecurities and try not to be bothered by others. But other days are darker. I look at others’ social media through green eyes. I am jealous of those who can do more, do better, accomplish things I cannot. I judge myself before others can “get to me”. It creeps into my dreams and wakes me up at night. I have been told by others that I am rather outspoken, sometimes without a filter. That I can share my thoughts with others and I am not afraid of judgement. I can put on a tough shell, and pretend I am invincible. But in reality that is just not the case. What we see is rarely what we get. And I think THAT is the point. I would like to imagine that even “Pinterest moms” have those insecure days. Because it will never be enough and no one will ever truly have it all together, even if it looks that way through our lens. The sooner we realize this, the happier we probably will be.

    Social Comparison Theory proposes that we determine our worth by comparing ourselves to others. In fact according to Psychology Today, as much as 10% of our thoughts are comparison in nature. Did that surprise you? There are days when I feel like it’s more… The point is that no one is immune to this struggle and we are all fighting it in our own way. So what is the answer? Just like the secret to becoming the perfect mom – there isn’t one. It is human nature to judge ourselves and compare ourselves to others. That can be a motivator or a deterrent – do we want to use it to push ourselves out of our comfort zone and try something new, or is it worth it to bother? I think that happiness lies not in trying to ignore these comparisons or brush them aside, but in harnessing them and using them to motivate us to be better. To try something new, cook a new dish, read a new book, or redecorate with a new rug – not perfect (because nothing should be), but better.

    This is not to say that this is working for me, and I can tell you that it will definitely be easier to adopt this mindset on good days over the darker ones. But, I will give it a try.

    This is life. Love, Mom.

  • Lest We Forget

    Lest We Forget

    This past week was Remembrance Day. The day we set aside to thank those who have fought for our freedom… those who have survived, and those who have sacrificed. As Canadians, we are living in a free, democratic society, as a result of what others before us gave up. When I think about Remembrance Day, my mind automatically goes to World War II. As the granddaughter of a holocaust survivor, the atrocities of the past weigh heavily on me. The holocaust was something that robbed us of our heritage. It took away family members I would never meet. It put scars on our hearts as we heard stories as if they were movies. I am part of the last generation who will hear, first hand, what occurred. They say that the most powerful way to learn of experiences is to hear from the mouth of the person who experienced them. My children will never have that. Generations after them will never have that.

    I understand how those who have family members who went through earlier wars must feel. First-hand accounts of those experiences are few and far between. We must rely on books, movies, and second-hand stories. It is important, but never the same. This is even more prevalent for me as I raise my own children. I want them to understand their history – the events that shaped their ancestors. “Lest we forget” means we must remember what has happened. It cannot be forgotten in hopes that history will never be repeated. It isn’t about holding a grudge, but about honouring what our ancestors gave up (willing or not) in order to give us a better life.

    Part of honouring that is allowing their voices to be heard. Years ago, before his death, my sister interviewed my grandfather for a school project about the holocaust. I am forever grateful to her for doing this. At the time, I don’t think we understood the true gift she was giving us. So today I wanted to honour his memory by using this space to share his story, unedited and in his own words.

    How was your family affected and where were they sent?

    I don’t know where they went. The last time I saw them was in 1942 right after Yom Kippur night. My father got up in the middle of the night and he saw guys in black uniforms standing. In the morning everybody had to go out. We went out and I remember this was my cousin Morris’s sister, my brother my sister and myself. My mother divided us and she gave a few bucks to everyone to put away because we were thinking that we were going to a camp. There were standing there Germans from the German S.S. and they were directing one to the left and one to the right. I didn’t know where I was going and I didn’t know where my father and sister were going or where my brothers were going. We went and they sent us to a factory and this was the last time that I saw my parents. This was the day after Yom Kippur. Later on, we went to an ammunition factory. When I was there it was 1942. They took us in some cars or wagons. They put us in and they disinfected us. Later on, they sent us to a garage on top where everyone was sleeping together- all the men. I hardly ever saw a woman at this time. What happened next was I had been there for about a month and a half and I didn’t know anything and I met another guy. We decided we were going to run away. We ran out and it was at night and the doors were open. This was a big factory and we came in. Trains were going out slowly. Later we jumped off one of the trains. We jumped next to a small ghetto. As I went in there were barbed wire fences and Polish police.

    So, later on, I started going to a place where they were making iron. I got a job there and I was working, coming and going every morning. I started to get restless and I was trying to run out of this ghetto. On the way back there were forty people in an ammunition factory called Hemro. When I was coming, the guy started checking and he saw forty-one people. They started asking everybody but nobody wanted to say anything. He said that if the person who shouldn’t be there didn’t come out because there were forty-one, he was going to shoot ten! So, I went out. There was a butcher shop over there. So the guy kicked me and he threw me into the butcher shop, didn’t ask any questions, this German policeman. He kicked me and he let me go.

    On the sixteenth of January 1945 they took us all out and they sent us to Germany. To Buchenvald. And I wound up there and on the way in I was looking and I saw my cousin Leon on the other side. He was going out already and we were going in. I said, “What’s doing over there?” He said it was nothing, they just put powder on your arms and they shaved your head and they let you go out. But without clothes. At this time I lost all my pictures and everything from my father and mother and my sister and brother. So they let me out and I had to throw away everything. They gave me new clothes, clothes that are like pyjamas. They are with stripes. My number was I think 150 505.

    From Buchenvald they sent us to a place called Ranenbook. This was a gas chamber. They didn’t gas anyone over there while I was there. They led us all into a place like a shower. They crammed about 500 people in. We were there for only a couple of days and every morning they would grab a lot of people and they would just take them. There weren’t only Jews. There were Germans, and Polish, I think. It was a place where they were making rackets. Every two feet there was a German soldier, an S.S., with a machine gun. 

    Next, they sent us to Dorey. From there they sent us to Rockleh Barodeh. There were camps wired around, and bunks. In this camp, we stayed for six to eight weeks. We were working in a mountain. We were digging, making factories in the mountains. We were breaking up the stones. It was terrible. We were there in couples. When you were pushing out the stones, there were pieces of wood sticking up. The stones and wood were hitting you! If they didn’t hit your head, they would break your legs. Or your arms. We were there for quite a while.

    One morning they took everybody for a march. The march was going right down the road. I think I had my father’s cousin there and he got sick. They took away all the sick and I think they killed him. We were about 30 000 people, but most people died on the way because there was no food and they were pushing us and taking us to side roads. Those people from the S.S. with machine guns and dogs. German Shepherds. They took us and we were walking for a month and a half, I think. I remember one time we were going to the water that was running on the side road. We went to drink it and they shot half the people. We were less every day. I was losing weight constantly.

    Then there were fighter planes coming down and we got shot. I got shot in the leg. After this, I dropped down to about 80 pounds. I had no food. So, the Red Cross came around with wagons and they were going to give out parcels. I grabbed a parcel because I hadn’t eaten for weeks! I started eating and I got sick. I almost died, because if it had been only bread, it would have been okay but there was meat and all kinds of things inside. I hadn’t eaten for three weeks! They only had given me a little piece of bread. So when the Americans started hitting the Germans, we were sleeping and we heard them. Leon and another guy were carrying me. They ran out and got a couple of Americans. They took me in their jeep, they took me to the hospital and they took out the bullet.

    After one or two days I woke up and I was in a white bed! I went from the mud to a white bed.  We had nurses over there in the hospital. This was, I think, May the first or the second. I was in Shvarim, and I got better and I left the hospital.

    My hope in sharing this is that his words will forever be remembered – engraved in this social space. We will always remember. Lest we forget.

    This is life. Love, Mom.

  • On Wednesdays We Wear Pink

    On Wednesdays We Wear Pink

    Once upon a time, there was a movie about a girl who was homeschooled, trying to fit into the jungle that is high school. If you are familiar with the title of this blog, it’s surely because you have watched (and probably rewatched) the movie “Mean Girls”. There is a reason the movie resonated with so many. Even though it was released in 2004, it feels like it could have been yesterday. The story is not a new one, it is about the trials and tribulations of high school and how to get along when you feel lost socially. It’s about how to stand up for yourself, and if your social status is determined by the “in” crowd. It isn’t the first of its kind, and it is definitely not the last. We all have our social horror stories from our time in school. No one left those years unscathed in some way, shape, or form. The truth is, the movie truly struck a chord with so many girls because we could see ourselves in one of the characters.

    In speaking with friends, it is apparent that these social situations are happening at an earlier and earlier age. This is especially true of those who have girls. It used to be that “mean girls” and the like were reserved for high school. Finding your place in the world, in society, and social circles comes to a head around that time. However, social difficulties between girls, in particular, are happening at a younger and younger age. I have countless stories of difficulties between my grade 4 students over the years. These are situations where girls are purposely and maliciously mean, unkind, and exclusionary – things that you wouldn’t necessarily expect of 9- and 10-year-olds.

    Before I go on, I want to make an important point. I don’t want to perpetuate the stereotype that girls are the only ones who deal with social difficulties. I know that with the rise of social media, emotional and social-based bullying is prevalent across all genders. I, however, it should be said that typically boys deal with disagreements in more of a physical manner whereas girls attack each other emotionally and socially. This is obviously not true for everyone but it is historically the pattern.

    Going through middle school and high school I can recall several situations that would be categorized as “mean girl activity“. I remember the rise of three-way calling in the 90s as the weapon of choice for many girls. Two girls would collude to call a third without her knowing that someone was listening on the line. The first girl would get the other to say something mean about the third without her knowing that she was listening. What pursued was a barrage of attacks, as the “truth came out”. Admittedly, I was both the perpetrator and victim of this behaviour. It got to the point that girls would become paranoid whenever they received a phone call, asking numerous times if anyone else was listening on the line. Sabotaging each other socially is the number one way girls get at each other. And truth be told, there was no rhyme or reason behind it. It was simply to play off each other and test the boundaries of what we could get away with. Girls attack and play on anxieties of being alone or becoming a social pariah.

    “You know that I’m not allowed to wear hoop earrings, right? Yeah, two years ago she told me hoops earrings were her thing, and I wasn’t allowed to wear them anymore. And then for Hanukkah my parents got this pair of really expensive white gold hoops and I had to pretend like I didn’t even like them. It was so sad.”

     Gretchen Wieners (Mean Girls)

    I was well into my teens when I began to truly understand the notion of quantity over quality when it came to friendships. This is a lesson that needs to be learned not to be taught and sometimes it’s a difficult one to stomach. Understanding that true friends are those who will truly be with you through thick and thin comes with the territory of going through those trials. Some of my best friends are those who I have known since elementary school because those bonds have stood the test of time.

    As a mother of a young girl, I struggle with this immensely. I am proud to say that she is well-adjusted socially and typically well-liked by her peers. Up until this point, Hubby and I have done all of the managings of friendships – organizing play dates, birthday parties, zoom calls, etc. Now that she is older, she has significantly more autonomy over who she interacts with. Gone are the days when you should be friends with everyone in your class simply because you share a space with them. Yes, you must respect each other but you don’t necessarily have to form strong bonds. A few weeks ago, she came home to tell me she had planned a play date with her friends. She informed me of the time and day and all I had to do was take her there. This was the first time she had organized something on her own and I was happy to oblige.

    It is not all rainbows and sunshine though. And this is where I truly struggle. There are, of course, girls she is friends with whom I would not choose for her. Let me be frank and say I disagree with how they are brought up and how they interact in social situations. I worry that she may be influenced to try the things these girls do, even if just to see what it is like. I will say that this is a whole other can of worms for me to open up on another day. There are also girls with whom she does not get along. Not for any other reason that these girls lack social graces and verbal filters. It takes everything in me to not get involved when she tells me that girls in her class have said rude things to her. She lets these comments roll off her back, and sometimes has a witty retort for the other girl. I know what it is like to be on the receiving end of these things and I want to protect her with all my heart. I also know that these are paths she has to travel through on her own. With my map ideally, but without me in the driver’s seat.

    So how, as a mom, do you reconcile having your child do things on their own and wanting to protect them at all costs? How do you find the balance between knowing how kids can be and letting them forge their own path? All I want for her is to be a strong, confident girl. And she is, but I don’t want her to lose that at the hands of a peer. Knowing how girls can be, and knowing how mean they are to one another, how do I arm her with the social wherewithal to stand up for herself and not let things take up space in her head? Really, at the end of the day, all we can do is teach our girls to be strong-willed, strong-minded, and thick-skinned. We can build them up before others tear them down. We can give them the language to speak up and talk back. And we can pray that the Regina George’s of the world don’t get into their heads. Otherwise one day mama-bear is going to come out swingin’.

    This is life. Love, Mom.

  • How To Be A Partner In Education Even If You Aren’t A Mindreader

    How To Be A Partner In Education Even If You Aren’t A Mindreader

    Our children spend six and a half hours a day in school. For those who are not mathematically inclined, that’s over thirty hours a week. That is a lot of time to be learning and growing and evolving without parents truly knowing the specifics of what happened in the day. And yet, we are often left wondering how we can do more at home, and support what is being taught. Are they grasping concepts? With the learning lag of online school still very much at the forefront, many parents are worried that they need to provide extra attention to learning, These questions are magnified by not really knowing what our children are doing during the day. What ARE they learning? What concepts are being covered? When the typical response to “what did you learn today” is either “I don’t know” or “stuff”, how can you even be effective?

    As a teacher, one of the most frequently asked questions is how to support children at home. Let it be said that I definitely don’t have all the answers. I do know that parents typically fall into one of two categories; those who are over-involved and those who are under-involved. Why is that the case? Because as we know with everything else in life, striking a balance is next to impossible. So why should supporting our children’s education be anything different?

    Instead, we inherently swing towards one of the extremes and wonder how to ease off the gas a bit more. I wanted to provide some basic tips and tricks for how to support children. These are things that teachers wish parents knew, and are easy to implement. The best part is that you don’t need to know what concepts are being covered to start!

    Everything starts at home, the night before. We have all heard of the importance of a good night’s sleep and I’m sure that many of you have bedtime routines down pat at this point… I’m certain more so for parental sanity than well-rested children wink. What I am referring to is before bedtime. In an effort to engage our children, many of them are over-programmed. Extra-curricular activities are important, don’t get me wrong. However, having a different activity every night of the week is a LOT. Every child is different, and where some can handle only one activity per week, others may be able to handle more. It’s important to remember that having multiple commitments can cause anxiety in children. I have had many conversations with students who have said they are unable to complete things at home or feel that they have too much going on because they have activities almost every day. This is a prime example of the importance of open dialogue between children and parents. This is not to say that the child who does not want to practice piano (cough cough my own child) gets to opt-out, but we do discuss the number of weekly commitments together.

    The use of an agenda is a fabulous tool. When our children are young, they are a great way to communicate with the teacher or vice versa. This helps to cut down on the unknowns of the day. When children are older, it is a great time-management tool. Unfortunately, many schools have paused the use of agendas due to Covid, as they try to minimize the items going back and forth from school. If you already have an agenda system in place, make sure to use it, and model for older children (grades 3+) how it can be helpful. Reviewing the agenda daily, and initialling it so that teacher can see you have read it is an easy start. If there is no agenda system in place, reach out to the homeroom teacher and see what the best form of communication is for weekly reminders, special days and upcoming assignments and assessments. This may look like a virtual newsletter, an email system, or even a virtual classroom. Don’t leave it to your child to tell you where to find the day-to-day information. That being said, no matter what the system, please do not expect the teacher to record verbatim what has happened in the day, as that is just not feasible.

    Reading at home is so important. This can be a bit of a no-brainer in theory but can be difficult to tackle in practice. When our kids are younger, we often read together with them; help them sound out the words or look for picture clues. As children get older and are more independent, parents do not always know the books they are reading (I mean, has anyone really had the time to pick up the most recent DogMan book??). This begs the question – how do you support reading? The good news for parents is that as students enter the end of primary and into junior grades, reading is more about explaining your understanding and less about your oral fluency. Talking about reading at home is the number one tip I give all parents of the students I teach. This means we need to talk about reading with our children, and always encourage them to support their thinking. These mini conversations can take place in the car on the way to school, at the dinner table, or right before bed. They do not have to be formal assessments.

    Simply ask what their favourite part is so far, what they think is going to happen next, or which character is they can relate to the best and then ask WHY. This is an area of need for all children (and especially gifted thinkers). Encouraging children to give more than a one-word answer, and think about supporting their thinking will give them a leg-up not just in literacy but in all subjects. I recognize that this assumes our children actually read at home, which I know many do not. The good news is that these conversations can be about any subject (space, chocolate cake, or Pokemon) – the key is in the WHY.

    The last point I want to cover is to ask children how they are feeling. This year, more so than others, brings with it a lot of anxiety. Whether children are back in the class, still online, or back and forth, there are a multitude of feelings. Taking time to ask children how they are doing, and giving them both the tools and the outlets to truly express it are imperative. I can tell you that 99% of children will not just walk up to a parent and articulate perfectly how they are feeling (nor would 99% of adults for that matter). Asking children to journal, mindmap, or colour a picture of their day are all ways that can help you understand how they are doing without a formal conversation. Check-ins will help gauge how they are doing with all the changes and uncertainty of the year. Just as our mental health is important, so is theirs. As they cannot necessarily advocate for themselves it is our job to ask questions to help them process. If there is interest, I can definitely go into this more in a later post.

    The only thing you definitely cannot do is read minds. Although we may want to, we cannot be flies on the wall in the classroom. Even as a 4th-grade teacher with a child in a grade 4 classroom, I STILL don’t know what she is doing on the daily. We all struggle with this. We will never know exactly what happened in the day but we can try to give children some tools to help them get through, And trust me, your child’s teacher will thank you. I know I would.

    This is life. Love, Mom.

  • Inhale The Future, Exhale The Past

    Inhale The Future, Exhale The Past

    About two months ago, I began a journey to become a certified yoga teacher. Yoga has been a part of my life for more than 10 years. When I was pregnant with J, yoga was one of the only forms of movement I could tolerate. When Covid hit, J and I would do yoga together in the evenings to wind down. Although it eventually lost its appeal for her, I ramped up my own practice. I enjoy the peace and calm it brings me amidst the chaos. So when my best friend told me that she was going to work towards her certification, it appealed to me. We decided to do it together, as best friends do. I knew I loved the poses and active movement involved, so why not learn more about the history and origins?

    What I didn’t realize is just how much the breathwork and meditation components would mean to me. Mindfulness is such an important part of good mental health, as is an awareness of one’s self. I love that you don’t need tools for the breathwork – it is the most portable form of self-care. Many people are intimidated by the quiet and metered breathing. There is a misconception that it is time-consuming and you must sit in silence for an extended period of time.

    So for my first yoga-inspired post, I wanted to share the ways that I incorporate breathing and mindfulness in my day, to show that it can be easier than you think. Breathing is something we need to do. Our bodies manage it without us thinking about it. But when we are stressed, anxious or tired our breathing innately becomes more shallow. Scientifically this is because our body stops relying on the diaphragm to breathe. In yoga, the prana (or life force) is brought into the body with our breath. Being aware of it and harnessing it is a huge source of power and strength. I am here to share with you some of the ways I am mindful and practice “pranayama” (Sanskrit for the regulation of breathing) in a real-life go-go-go setting.

    ONE: Be present. This doesn’t mean you have to be present at every moment of the day. One of the biggest yoga gurus, Richard Rosen, talks about taking in the small moments of the day. We don’t do anything specific, but instead, do nothing and just observe. I find when I am taking the dog for a walk in the morning, or sitting in my car at a red light, I take 30-60 seconds and become very aware of the moment. I really take in all my senses – what do I hear? Smell? See? Just taking that time to come out of my head and into the moment can be very powerful. Think of it as a quick mental reset.

    TWO: Take deep breaths. I find when I’m stressed (and let’s be honest, that is often!) practicing equal-part breath helps me to focus. Equal-part breath is one of the core breathing techniques in yoga and it is easy to access. If you find it helpful and safe, you can close your eyes. I typically do this while I’m driving and the kids are yelling at each other, so my eyes would NOT be closed. Empty your breath, and breathe in slowly for a count of 3-4, depending on what you can do. Then exhale for the same amount of time. If this is difficult you can try just inhaling slowly and exhaling your normal breath. But, ideally, you are focusing on breathing in and out equally (hence equal-part breathing). The focus becomes your breath and not whatever is stressing you out. Again, this doesn’t have to be something you do for 30 minutes. Even a few rounds of breathing can be calming.

    THREE: Take five. When we think of meditation, we think of a quiet mind without any distractions. We think of a group of people sitting in a room, with eyes closed and all humming in unison. In reality, meditation is what you make of it. When you are feeling overwhelmed, try this. Just sit down (on the floor, at your desk, on your bed) and listen. Instead of trying to turn everything off around you, just sit and experience it. Listen to the sounds around you instead of trying to tune them out. Are people talking? Birds chirping? A car horn blaring? Feel your body instead of trying to ignore it. Is your skin hot or cool? Is your stomach grumbling? Then focus on your breath… not trying to control it, but just listening and feeling how it moves. Even five minutes of this can be transformative.

    My hope after reading this is that you can see that mindful breathing is much more accessible than we fear it is. There is indeed an entire practice dedicated to learning to meditate and breathe more successfully – but that is just it – it’s a PRACTICE. In our crazy busy lives, even taking five minutes to be present in our bodies and minds can be helpful. And at the end of the day, five minutes is better than nothing!

    This is life. Love, mom.

  • Where Did I Land My Helicopter?

    Where Did I Land My Helicopter?

    As cliche as it sounds, there is nothing harder, yet more fulfilling than being a parent. There are so many times I pinch myself, wondering who gave me the responsibility of raising children. Not that I’m not capable, but to some extent we were children, and now we are responsible for our own children. So many parents lament “if only there were a handbook…..” or wonder if they can google “how to raise my kids”. It can be hard to find yourself in the ebb and flow of parenting. Not to mention, what is good for one child is rarely the same for the next. There needs to be a balance between being the “helicopter” parent and letting our children just figure things out on their own. Neither at its extreme is helpful or rational, but it isn’t easy to find that middle ground. There is nothing we want more than to keep our kids safe, and to have them become good humans…. but how we get there is a bit of a mystery. We know the final destination, but the roadmap is nowhere to be found.

    No one would argue that being a helicopter parent is a good idea, for both the parent and the child. In case you are not familiar with this term, a helicopter parent does not let their child out of their sight. The constant micromanaging, worrying, hovering over your child, and keeping them close is not ideal. The fear is that they will be hurt, or put in a dangerous situation. So the antidote is to ensure that you are constantly there to protect them. However, in doing so it leaves little room to allow them to make mistakes.

    It also makes transitions to school and programs quite difficult (usually more so for the parent than the child). As much as we want, we cannot go through life holding their hands, or encasing them in bubble wrap.

    And to be clear, the opposite is no better. The idea that children should simply learn by experiencing life, and from their mistakes is fraught with issues, as well. Yes, children should learn life lessons, and get the bumps and scrapes that come with growing up. As a teacher, I can appreciate that learning certain skills on your own is much more valuable than having them explained to you. Coming to understand the world through natural consequences is indeed important. Working through experiences, building resilience, and figuring out right from wrong are all invaluable lessons. But, by being completely hands-off, children lose the attachment to parental figures that is so important. And the question is – are we putting them in unnecessary situations? Are they learning lessons they shouldn’t need to learn? The argument becomes if we CAN protect them, why shouldn’t we?

    With all this back and forth swirling around in our heads, and the whispers of every parenting expert in our ear, what is the answer? What path will yield the best result? All we know is we want our children to be the best they can be; to grow up to be good, self-sufficient, kind human beings. As mothers, there is an inherent fear that we are constantly messing up our kids. I myself am guilty of this, as well. Decisions are met with self-doubt, questioning, and rationalization. Should I have let them do their own thing? Did I not step up enough? Was the best decision made for the situation? These questions are coupled with the nagging notion that each decision holds more weight than it truly does. As if we are one decision away from permanently messing up our children. Of course, in hindsight, this is rarely the case, but it doesn’t feel like that at the time.

    Interestingly, before I had children I often thought I would be more relaxed (I mean, didn’t we all??). I didn’t think I would be so worried all the time – specifically about the kids hurting themselves or becoming ill. And yet, here I am. I want them to be good, do good, and feel good. I want them to stand up for themselves and be respectful. I want them to be safe and secure. But I struggle with how best to execute this. I have had my “helicopter” moments, and let me tell you there are more of them than I’d really care to admit. The idea of them falling (either proverbially or physically) and not being there to catch them is daunting. I know that this feeling was heightened when J became very ill and was hospitalized at 2 years of age. I won’t get into it now, but I will in future posts. There is a delicate balance between keeping them safe and allowing them the opportunity to learn on their own, and admittedly I don’t know the formula.

    So can you imagine what happens when you throw Covid into the mix? The mystery that has plagued communities for the better part of two years has sent us all into hyperdrive trying to protect our children. Teaching them to wear masks, sanitize their hands, sneeze into their elbows, and inform adults when the sniffles are “just allergies” (when they truly are, of course!) has taken over our lives. We are left with the question, how can we protect our children if we haven’t yet figured out how to protect ourselves? Yes, we are making headway, but there is still a ways to go. Now let’s be clear – I am not using this platform to delve into the vaccine or mask debate. There is too much there to unpack, and I don’t think a one-off blog post is a place to do it. But, of course, these are other questions that are constantly top-of-mind. The whole situation would send any sane parent into overdrive, wondering how best to ensure their child’s safety.

    These are thoughts that continue to plague me, especially since September is already here. Maybe that’s part of the balance I struggle to find as a parent. What I DO know is that Covid has hit those who question their parenting, who don’t want to hover but cannot bear to look away… This is not to say that we have all had our own struggles because of this pandemic. But as we enter another school year, I know that the parents I talk to are all worried about the same thing – how can we keep them safe when we can’t see them all day? How do we keep them healthy when we have no control over the environment they are in? There is an element of letting go that is involved in sending our children off to school that is difficult to grasp – even for parents who are more hands-off than the rest.

    If I’m being candid and honest, I’m not entirely sure what I want to impart in this post. I began writing this because I wanted to grapple with my babies returning to school, and the extra layer that Covid has added. Having been home last year altogether, sending them out into the world again is frightening. I want them to have the most normal of experience in what is the most abnormal of circumstances. All the while, I want to keep them safe. So when I find my helicopter, we can all jump in together and hover over our children. At least for the near future until we can see the light at the end of this very dark tunnel.

    But this is life. Love, Mom

  • When Your Worst Fears Are Realized

    When Your Worst Fears Are Realized

    This post comes with a trigger warning. I am about to discuss when a child gets sick – every parent’s worst fear. I wish what I was writing was fiction, but it is our reality.

    The fall after my daughter turned two, she developed a crazy high fever. I remember she was hot and flushed, and we weren’t sure why. We couldn’t figure out what it was, and doctors threw out guesses like a virus, fifth’s disease and strep throat. She had countless tests that week and two walk-in visits. Tylenol and Advil weren’t helping but we kept at it for a few days. We waited and monitored and prayed that the fever would break. A few days in, she developed a rash on her hands and feet. Since her fever was so high, we thought it might have been a fever rash. I have a very distinct memory of sitting by the bath, looking at her feet, and being completely bewildered by it. By Friday, 5 days in, things hadn’t changed so we went back to the walk-in. By that point, her eyes had started getting very red. The doctor took one look at her and told us he was sending us to the emergency room. He said that he suspected Kawasaki disease but it needed to be confirmed by the hospital. At that time we were familiar with the disease because Hubby’s nephew experienced it a few years earlier (and made a full recovery), but we were still awestruck and shaking.

    The next week and a half were a whirlwind that I will never forget. We started at one hospital closer to our house, but quickly made the decision to drive downtown to Sick Kids Hospital. The drive down was a mix of panic and fear. I remember that it was dark outside and my first thought was that she was supposed to be in bed by then. When we go to the ER, she was almost immediately diagnosed with Kawasaki’s Disease – a very rare inflammation of the small blood vessels, characterized by a very high fever, and red palms, feet, tongue and eyes. The danger with the disease is that the vessels around the heart also become inflamed, which could lead to coronary failure, and if not treated immediately would be fatal. It must be treated in the first week to reduce these symptoms. Let me tell you – Dr. Google is NOT your friend in these times. While we were waiting to be admitted, we did our own research and read all about the countless children who were left untreated and died from coronary failure. This only fueled the anxiety and panic.

    Early in the morning on day 6, she began the treatment. The typical treatment is an infusion of IVIG (intravenous immunoglobulin) to help her body fight the infection. The typical course of treatment is half a day of infusion, followed by 24 hours fever-free. Unfortunately, she developed an allergic reaction to the infusion with her fever spiking, so they had to stop it less than an hour in. The secondary course was a synthetic IVIG alternative that works the same way but requires more than double the time to administer. We waited, patiently while she received the dose and prayed. Once it was administered, the clock began for our 24 hours fever-free. All seemed to be going well, until the 20th hour when her fever spiked higher than ever, right smack in the middle of the night. I won’t go into specifics but I will tell you that was the worst night of my 38 years of life. The second round of synthetic IVIG was ordered, and her fever began going down. Then, thankfully, she passed the 24-hour mark without fever. Then she passed her cardiac function tests. After a week in hospital, she was released to go home with an Asprin regimen and two very nervous parents.

    After her follow-up a year later, she was released from the hospital’s caseload and we finally felt like we could breathe again. We thank God every day that she does not have any lasting heart defects, as many children do. So many children die or suffer life-long issues as a result of this disease. We are forever grateful that neither of these is the case. Having a hospital like this in our backyard, especially one that has a dedicated Kawasaki’s clinic, was the greatest gift. I tell you all of this, so you can understand why Sick Kids Hospital means so much to me. So when I tell people that they saved her life, I am not being dramatic – it is the truth.

    As a teacher, working with Heart and Stroke on their Jump Rope for Heart campaign is incredibly important to me (hence the picture from a couple of years ago pre-Covid). But more than that, I do whatever I can to help Sick Kids Hospital, and encourage my kids to do the same. Toys, money, or gifts for the nurses in the cardiac ward – any way we can show our appreciation even seven years later. Because, for me, those seven years still feel like yesterday. In a blink of an eye, we are back there, holding her hand, crying together, and praying.

    This month I am participating in the Get Loud campaign for Sick Kids. They are looking to build a bigger hospital, to be able to help even more families. All September long, I am cycling, walking and lifting in honour of this campaign. If this post has struck a chord with you, I urge you to consider helping my campaign. Sick Kids Hospital is the ONLY organization I would ever ask for donations for.

    The donation link is here https://bndfr.com/QvYqY

    And in the meantime, I will continue to be thankful for the gift that we have received – the gift of life for our family and J. I pray that others in our situation have the same outcome. Hug your babies, everyone.

    This is life. Love, Mom.

  • My Peloton And I: A Love Story

    My Peloton And I: A Love Story

    Pandemic life has been hard on everyone. It doesn’t matter if you are single, in a relationship, a parent, working from home, working remotely, or unemployed. We have all had our own journeys to go through. This pandemic will be taught in school for years to come – that our kids will talk about with their kids. For many, this has been one of the hardest seasons to get through, for a variety of reasons. Access to daily necessities have been increasingly difficult (umm hello toilet-paper-gate 2021??) and life as we know it, has changed. We will all be masked for the near future, and stock for Purell will continue to rise. Exercise and access to physical fitness were one of the areas of our lives that took a hit. Depending on your mindset and mental state, this could have been either a positive or negative change.

    This love story began in February 2021 when our bike came. Actually… it started earlier when Hubby suggested a Peloton and I scoffed at how expensive it was. He talked about this bike that he had heard of – that there were on-demand rides and you could spin with other people. I loved the idea but couldn’t understand why it was necessary. At the time, I had been the equivalent of a couch-hermit, not participating in very much activity. Prior to Covid, I was doing kickboxing workouts 4-5 times a week and was in the best shape I had been in years. I felt good both physically and mentally. But then, we went into viral lockdown and everything diminished for me. So, the idea that we could park something in our basement and access workouts on demand was definitely appealing, but daunting.

    A simple Google search will tell you that this all makes sense. You can read article after article that explains the positive correlation between exercise and positive mental health. Experts all agree that movement is paramount to improving mental outlook. It reduces stress, improves cortisol, creates endorphins, and lowers blood pressure. However, it is NOT magic. It is not a switch that you can easily flip and rainbows will form overhead. For those who struggle to get out of dark places, it is hard to get going. I remember having numerous conversations with both Hubby and my mother about feeling stuck in a cycle. I felt so tired, and I knew that if I incorporated exercise I would feel better, but I felt too exhausted to even start. My brain and my body were not in sync. Even though I knew what might help me, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I feel so fortunate for my amazing support network, who listened, and encouraged, and helped me dig myself out.

    I started my first ride a few days after the bike was delivered. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I did a 20-minute Tabata ride without a true understanding of what that actually meant, and quite literally felt like I had died. I couldn’t make it up the stairs and Hubby couldn’t understand why I started that way (in hindsight I have no idea either!). But I decided to go back the next day, and the day after that. I hadn’t realized initially that Peloton was not just spinning. I love that I have access to other classes, too. When I started feeling very sore, I began adding yoga routines in the evening. It’s even gotten so that I can’t fall asleep properly if I haven’t done even a small yoga class.

    What I didn’t understand then, that I do now, is there is no price tag too expensive for your mental health. feel so much stronger both mentally and physically after 6 months. It’s a change in mindset and an embracing of my positive energy. It’s putting myself first for 20-30 mins a day and ensuring the endorphins carry me through. I love that my children can watch me on the bike (with headphones for those explicit classes, ha!) and see the importance of moving your body. When I was set to hit 100 rides, they were so excited, and it was so amazing to see. More so than the signs they made or the fact that they were cheering me on, was the fact that they were able to see that this milestone was a big deal. I want to be able to instill those healthy habits in them.

    So now I am working towards my next 100 rides, my next 100 strength classes, and my next 100 yoga classes. It won’t happen overnight but I am confident that I am going to keep at this. It isn’t just for myself anymore. I want to show my kids that not giving up working towards a goal and putting yourself first all make you stronger. It makes me a better mother, a better wife, and a more sane human. Cheers to the next 100!

    This is life. Love, Mom.

    A small disclaimer: I do want to take a moment to say that I am well aware of the privilege that goes along with this post. I know that machines like this are not accessible for everyone. I feel so very fortunate to be able to not only write about this but access it daily. I want to add that there are many machines and apps that are less of a financial commitment and can be game-changers. This is what worked for me, and I am so happy to share that it has.