I feel strongly compelled to write about an issue that is hitting me square between the jaw, as I am a mother of three young girls as well as a teacher who interacts with girls of many different ages each and every day. Body image. It is something that young girls begin thinking about as …
When my son was little, I lost natural hair color over stressing about his day at school. I don’t know if his initial school experience was typical or not, as he is my only boy, and I merely have his one experience to go on. But, I am starting to think it might be. Although …
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 Point B to Point C …
Little voices, tiny hands. Baby hair still wisps, framing round faces. Wide-eyed. They move, and squirm, roll and tumble. And I try to quiet them, but they are alive with energy. Full of life. We read on the blue rug, I’ll Love You Forever. As I begin to form words on the tongue, I can …
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 slight cushion to ease the …
Another typical evening at the Gard household. Everyone going off in different directions. And so it was immediately upon finishing supper that we all left home together, half of us going in one direction and half in the other. As my regular Thursday evening activity was cancelled, I was given the rare and exquisite privilege …
I wrote the following in response to my son relaying a few comments made to him this past week on the school bus. The comments were very subtle, and seemingly innocent. In fact, my son excused the comments as his friends “just being mean.” But I beg to differ. I think these comments are malicious, …
Not quite sure how to feel about a twelve-year old son who now reads the Globe and Mail on his i-pod. I am thinking that I need to daily start reading the newspaper just to keep up with his brilliant mind. I don’t want it to come to the place where his mother knows less …
The journey to peace comes by way of blessings. Counting blessings. Those little and big reminders given to us so that we can remember this: life is good. That life is more than good- it is stellar. Even in the moments we oft would erase. For those moments build character and endurance. They make us …
As I pen words, it is a dreary, soaking-wet, rain-drenched evening outside my sitting room window. We are all drying ourselves out after a torrential down-pour just moments ago, occurring just as we made a run for it from the van to the front steps. This onslaught also occurring after we all had walked through …
While the birds and bees are busy buzzing around the countryside reminding us all of springtime flings hither and yon, I am drawn to listen carefully to conversations about kissing and puberty and other such exciting topics for mothers to eavesdrop in on. Nature is not the only expression of growing up and falling in …
Rushing, always rushing. I grab a bag of snacks and wait impatiently the three minutes it takes the corn to pop. My oldest daughter opens the side door of our house and hollers that one child is pulling another’s hair inside the van. It will be an all-out brawl if I don’t get out there. …