I let my son decide his own consequence for a video game infraction. He made a pretty mature decision
When I was a kid, I really liked to play video games. I grew up on an Atari 2600. The games were two-dimensional, blocky, with bleeps and blurts. It was good fun. Asteroids, Missile Command and Defender were my favourites. Yars' Revenge was pretty cool, too.
I liked the Atari so much, as an adult, I bought an Atari Flashback . . .
Imperfect action is a lot better for my mental health
Perfectionism is not altogether a bad thing. It's good to have high standards.
But it's doing me more harm than good.
I think I may have unwittingly passed my perfectionism on to my kids.
I realized this playing catch with my son. He was way too hard on himself because he wasn't catching every ball.
One of my simplest . . .
Manor Park School's production of The Lion King Jr was magic
One part art. One part story. One part love. Mix together: The result is magic.
Kids from Manor Park Public School in Ottawa brought together a community with their production of The Lion King Jr.
I once told my children to think of school as a community. Instead of the physical building and walls that . . .
I wonder why I put myself through the mental wringer
Depression tracks me like a ninja, quietly plotting his course in the dark; muted footfalls, cagey eyes.
Living with it requires constant vigilance, self-care. Ignoring the signs can lead to disaster. I constantly calculate the costs and benefits of disclosure. I'm afraid of appearing weak.
I push through.
Deep down, I . . .
I talked about Jesus, but my kid's focus was on the Easter bunny
I'm not a religious person. But I know there are forces I can't even begin to understand in this universe—forces greater than anything I can ever fathom.
I'm a non-practising Christian, but I always reflect around Easter. Good Friday, especially. I was going through my journals and came upon a passage. A discussion about . . .
A con artist left me feeling grateful and betrayed
I have to give her credit, she told a great story. Before my son and I realized she scammed us, we felt pretty good about ourselves.
We were enjoying a nice father-son walk around the neighbourhood. Came across a woman near the end of our street. She was hard at work, chipping away ice on her driveway.
A bit rough around the . . .
I called him back—find out what happened
The call came at 5:09 on a cold January morning, waking me from a sound sleep. It was a text-to-landline message.
"Goodbye Nicole, I love you," the robotic voice said. An obvious wrong number.
I thought about the message. Maybe it was a husband sending a sweet message to his wife. But I felt a finality to it; five words can mean . . .