She fostered a love of reading and writing through her diary
When I was a kid, Mom encouraged me to keep a journal. "Aw, do I have to write?" I often complained.
She said I'd thank her as an adult.
My mother documented her experiences and viewed things from my kid perspective. The diary, sometimes written in the second person, was like a pre-internet blog.
She gave me the diary when I was a teenager. . . .
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction
Newton's third law:
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
I use this as a reminder in coping with my sons' sibling rivalry. Usually, it starts over something silly (at least it seems that way to me). Whether it's a water bottle, soccer ball, video game, it doesn't matter. The argument is basically the same. One kid . . .
My sons and I enjoy a professional development day together
Hear the swish-swish of their snow pants as we walk home from drugstore. Sun, so bright, reflecting off snow. Younger likes to hold my hand still, sometimes. Older walks ahead, blazing a trail on slushy sidewalk. We laugh, waddle, joke. Feel like a new dad, all over again.
Silver jet streaks above, double contrails painting . . .
A great day ended on a disappointing note
In August, you, my eldest, turned nine. It is amazing how quickly time has passed. You are growing up to be a fine person. You are persistent, stubborn, happy, thoughtful, emotional, intelligent, athletic; more of a leader than I ever was at that age. You are courageous. You are my son.
Morning of your birthday. You wake up . . .
Posted in: emotions
By attending to our messy feelings, we found room for empathy
This essay originally appeared in The Globe and Mail on June 15, 2016.
I had never let my children see me cry before. I had this tough-guy notion it would make me look weak. But one morning, messy emotion got the best of me.
My eldest son was not feeling well. Although ill, he was looking forward to spending a day with me at home. . . .