We may think we're teaching safety when we tell them to disregard the unfamiliar, when we tell them to turn away from strangers, but what we're teaching is intolerance and indifference.
Dear Daughter, I'm writing this not to let you know how much I love you, and I do. So much. Not to tell you how proud you've made me and how talented you are. You have. You are. I'm writing you to let you know that I understand. That I care.
Our neighborhood was a place for us to learn. We thought we were having fun, but through play, we were taking a life skills class taught by life itself.
The baby had filled up her diaper and there was no place to change her nappie. Well, there were facilities, but there was no place for him to change her diaper; the changing rooms were for women only, because -- duh -- changing diapers is a woman's task.
Scheduling a haircut is never easy, but once you have a child, getting a haircut takes divine intervention, planetary alignment and a whopping dose of good luck.
Kids with autism are also often singular in their attention to the things they love and the things that give them pleasure; this sometimes makes them wholly present and pure receptacles of joy. In my son Casey's case, he dreamt of city buses.
The plan was to drive off the neighbourhood bridge. It had one of those flimsy corrugated steel side rails at the bottom of a steep hill and curve. I always felt those railings were only a token effort to protect against plans such as this. I had spent the morning running errands and my two-year-old was fast asleep in her car seat in the back. I had installed that seat with the help of a police officer and I knew it was secure and designed to protect on impact. I could see her in my rearview mirror and had a moment of doubt thinking of what I would miss out on.
We need a gesture. Something like a tip-of-the-hat, a wink, the A-OK, or the Vulcan Salute. Something that communicates, instantly and silently, "You're doing a great job, parent. Keep up the good work. I'm with you." So I came up with something.
I nursed my son for two years and I hope to do the same with my daughter. I fully believe that "breast is best" (at least most of the time), and I will gladly talk your ear off about the benefits of nursing. But would you believe me if I told you that I hated nursing so much that I almost quit?
am most certainly a different person than I was before I embarked on our infertility journey over 13 years ago.
Staying home with kids can feel like you have a boss following you around all day, even to the restroom. Kids are always watching. "Mommy, are you eating candy? Can I have some candy?" Kids love to critique. "Mommy, the oven is dirty!"
May is masturbation month. Shocking as the word and act are to many, masturbation is a normal aspect of childhood sexuality that many parents find difficult to talk about. Part of this is the difficulty in acknowledging that kids are sexual beings.
One day I came across a photo of me in my twenties, and it struck me how much I never wanted to go back. Those were sometimes rough and lonely years -- even with a fit, flat stomach. I liked myself in my mom form more than I ever had when I conformed to the social "ideal."
What's worse than being older and hungover? Having a toddler AND being hungover. You know who doesn't understand the "Irish flu?" A very demanding tiny person who relies on you to wipe their butt.
Conversations among friends and between strangers fueled my pumping obsession. Every time I thought I was ready to skip a session or wean my son, I felt this peculiar sense of failure. "Not yet..." nagged a little voice. I'd ask other people how their feeding was going and then persist with my own despite my frustration and annoyance. I also made the crucial mistake of reading popular parenting blogs where I'd see talk of only weaning well past the 12-month mark. I feel like I passed the first parenting test and when people converse about infant nourishment, I feel proud stating that I did whatever it took to give him the "best" start.
The new, modernized Physical Education and Health curriculum is supported by the overwhelming majority of Ontario parents. However, there remains a small, yet vocal few, who strongly oppose any changes. Although I currently serve as a School Board Trustee, it's as a parent that I wish to engage in this debate. There is rarely a week at home when my kids don't speak of things I never would have touched at their age. As a father, raising my children in these times, I'm happy to be able to count on the support of professional educators who can complement what my kids learn and discuss at home.
Ten-year-old Hannah used to love going to school but now the Ontario fourth grader is too scared to return and her mother Nicola can't blame her. On Monday, Hannah experienced the second of two incidents of bullying with a disturbingly sexual tone. Hannah's mother spoke to the school principal, and although the boy admitted to the incident, as far as she knows no further action was taken by the school. As of Wednesday, Nicola's calls to the superintendent and her school trustee had not been returned, and the principal did not respond to a request for comment for this post.
"She is going to hate you, you know. All her friends will have piercings and nice earrings and she'll be the only one who won't. She will resent you." I took stock of the situation. Should I tell this woman the real reason? Would she take it as an affront?