Confession time. Along with many other like-minded mothers out there, I concur: Greatness should not be the standard when it comes to mothering. On the contrary, I think it is okay -- dare I say desirable -- to instead be a "good enough" mother. Good enough mothers should at the...

When tragedy strikes and disaster hits our fragile world. When calamity occurs and life is lost. When that life lost belongs to a child -- a precious son or daughter. When it is a mother's life, a wife's life, a sister's life that's taken. Or worse: when that loss of...

A few years back, when I was teaching high school instead of five-year-olds, I use to know a thing or two about teenagers. For instance, I knew that you can't try too hard to be liked by them. It helps to be funny. And don't take yourself too seriously, or...

I am scrolling down my Facebook feed. Behind me, my second-to-youngest impatiently sits on the couch waiting for me to look up. I have been here exactly 3.5 minutes. Or thereabouts. Who's counting, right? Don't judge, people.

I am tired, frayed around the edges. And I need to zone...

That moment. When you feel so very, very horrible. And all because you have left your middlest child at the rink, waiting for the better part of an hour because you had no way to get in touch with her. And all because you were driving from Point A to...

Someone asked me yesterday, "Do I enjoy teaching this age?" (I teach Kindergarten). Which really threw me for a loop, as those kinds of questions often do. Whenever I am asked the question "Do I enjoy teaching?" or the more broad "Do I enjoy parenting?" or the more specific "Do...

Sometimes a body just needs to know. To feel a mother's love. To know that she is there. That she's within arm's length, when story lines grow dark. Becoming ominous, sinister. That she is only a whisper away. When the plot thickens to a portentous climax. When the theatrics prove...

I REFUSE to allow my children the usage of the word ain't in everyday conversation. So. Of course Littlest One says it as much as possible. Every time I turn around, actually. There it is. Inserted into every response, comment or answer she gives me or any other family member.

Whoever claimed that "storm days are fun" did not have the exquisite pleasure of living with a bevy of kidlets, as is my distinctive delight.

Two storm days back-to-back, courtesy of the Nor'easter that hit the Maritimes this past weekend, and I am more exhausted and wrung...

I am steering the van towards after-school destination numero deux, in project "My Life as a Chauffer." A tired Kindergartener rides solo in the backseat, a motley assortment of grocery bags, backpacks and other odds and ends ride shotgun in the passenger side. And all the while, "Veggie Tales" blares...

It's little recess.

I have maybe nine minutes to run to the washroom, grab a glass of water in the staff kitchen, and check my mailbox in the office. En route, I duck into an adjacent classroom to mine so as to make a quick phone call. To a...

Solitude. Not loneliness, of which I speak. Not isolation, nor seclusion. Neither separation, segregation, emptiness. Rather. The peaceful equilibrium without. That quiet moment spent. In prayer. In supplication, meditation, reflection. In contemplative thought. Tranquil moments that restore the soul within. Returning the body to its truest nature, a relaxed state...

Dear Robert Munsch,

I don't know if you read the Huff Post, but I am taking a chance that either you or someone you know does. At the very least, I figure this medium is the quickest way to reach you, as time is of essence. So here goes.

Our...

It is a breathtakingly beautiful day. I send the Fearless Foursome outside for fresh air and exercise. What I wish I could write about this experience is this: everyone played in harmonious co-operation whilst enjoying some excellent winter recreational activity, all while tromping around in the sparkling snow.

What...

He sits beside me. Calm, quiet-like. In between me and his father. I have just nestled myself into a seat, in a row of black chairs connected by a small hinge along one side. We call them a pew. That's church speak. They're really just uncomfortable, black chairs with a...

I have been fascinated and greatly inspired by the portraits, pictures and photographs other people have taken and posted online over the holidays. A slew of pictures came across my Facebook feed over the past couple of weeks featuring beautiful shots of homes and décor, along with gorgeous family pictures...

In wake of the recent tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, there have been waves of anger and sorrow washing over us all. Young and old. Rich and poor. Believer and non-believer. Pain spares no one its icy grip; it holds ransom with vice-like shackles. The world over, we are united in...

We sit, huddled tightly together in the cramped space of a corner. The blinds are darkly drawn, the door is shut. Locked. Little bodies press in close together to the wall. I place my body as a barrier along the tips of their tiny feet, all the while smiling into...

What happens when three excited children, one grandmother and two mamas/aunties go shopping together, manoeuvring a crowded mini-van through a torrential down-pour? A whole lot of candy gets bought, that's what. And very few Christmas gifts ever make it from the shelf to the cash register.

Santa could at...

Husband and I have embarked on a dangerous journey, riding at break-neck speed down the slippery slope of parenting an adolescent. I'm talking about the downward spiral, baby. The dangerous slide into the abyss. Of being under the same roof as a child going through puberty, that is. And if...