I can't blame the kids. Kids are naturally animalistic, narcissistic megalomaniacs. It's the parents who must mold them and break them down into responsible, polite, contributing members of society.
While not a requirement, first dates often involve activities like eating at restaurants and going out for drinks. When you've got food allergies or intolerances, a digestive disorder, or simply like to eat clean, many restaurants become a minefield of potential dangers and embarrassing moments.
Go to your friend's mother's memorial even though it's a two-hour drive away. Go to retirement parties and milestone birthday parties and parties celebrating the end of a nasty divorce. Drive your friend to her chemo appointment and sit with her afterward. Show up. Show up.
The topic of genetically engineered crops is not new. They were first introduced into Canada 15 years ago, with four crops -- canola, corn, soy and sugar beets -- which now dominate the food industry. Today it's estimated that more than 70 per cent of the products you purchase at your local grocery store contain genetically modified ingredients.
A few weeks ago, my hematologist found a lump in my neck. She suggested cancer, scheduled an ultrasound and referred me to a specialist, to decide if I needed a biopsy. The reality didn't hit me at first. I think I was in shock. This scared the hell out of me.
You loved them immensely and were only just beginning to fall into your groove as "Grandma" when you left us. Like an artist who passed away before completing a painting, your role in my life and my children's lives feels unfinished, yet revered for its ultimate intent. That ultimate intent was always the purest of intents -- love.
You know you're getting old when you cheer upon discovering John Hughes's classic 1985 teen movie The Breakfast Club is on television on a Saturday night. But now that I am a parent, I watched this movie through an entirely different lens, and many scenes just plain irk me now.
If young girls form their ideas of Mr. Right based on romantic comedies like Say Anything and When Harry Met Sally, don't we also dream of friendships like those in Thelma and Louise and Fried Green Tomatoes?
You are not alone in these places. Other people feel how you feel. You are more than just your pain. You are more than wounds, more than drugs, more than death and silence.
One of the most frustrating things about being a woman is that people think a straight line can be drawn from my emotional state to my menstrual cycle.
I don't like pictures of myself, and I did a lot of self-reflection about that during the selfie project. The rules for the Selfie Project were simple: post at least five selfies on Facebook over the course of a week and talk to me about the experience afterwards. I don't consider myself "attractive" in any way the idea is bounced around: cute, pretty, beautiful, sexy. I am not alone.
Like any craft, journalism, requires audience attention, appreciation and consideration -- akin to a handmade ceramic mug that can sit alongside a disposable paper cup, news can be authored by a Pulitzer prize wining journalist or a passerby at an event with a cell phone. Both have value but their objectives differ.
Children are an incredible paradox. They bring so much joy, so many tender moments, so many blissful times when you're just enjoying them, and they're enjoying you, and you're laughing at something funny your toddler said, or something adorable your baby did. And then there's the other 23 hours and 30 minutes of the day you have to get through.
Catcalling isn't about flattery, the men aren't doing it to make you feel beautiful or special. They're doing it because of a sense of entitlement. Because to them, every woman is fair game regardless of what time of day it is or where you are or what the woman is doing.
I'm not about to bring another free loader with bodily fluids into my house. I've occasionally considered a goldfish and deemed them too much hassle less than 24 hours later. We are gloriously pet-free and I refuse to feel bad about that.
Some parents, my husband and I included, are eager to ship their kid off to school. But some children need more time to get in the proper mindset of heading back to the classroom. I think with the right preparation most kids can feel eager to head back to the schoolyard. Here are some tips for parents and kids alike to get excited about the school year.
Strange as it may sound, I never contemplated the existence of my butt until one fateful day in the eighth grade.
On March 11, 2001, a woman named April died by suicide. Her friend Jenn was the one who found her. It was an extremely traumatic event in Jenn's life. It transformed her entire world. Let's encourage others to have careful and candid conversations about suicide. For Jenn's family, suicide exists at the dinner table and at every family gathering, because there's always an empty chair. But most families are not having these conversations.
A boss from hell can get you to do tasks that lower your self-esteem and make you their professional slave for as long as you allow it. For example, I once went on a business trip with a new boss to call on clients where I ended up being tasked with chatting up women for him.