There is no right way to handle your child’s unexpected diagnosis
But in parenting a kid with a diagnosis you hadn’t exactly longed for, coming unraveled can be a bumpy part of the road you’re on. Sometimes, just like our kids, we go through a developmental phase of chaos and disintegration before we consolidate new skills. I didn’t enjoy it, but I don’t think I could have skipped that step. It was an important part of my developmental trajectory.
My partner won’t be at our son’s birth: dealing with birthing almost alone
Due to circumstances beyond both of our control — a move, a job change for me, and my partner’s desire to really try the job it took him over a year to find — it looks like I’m going to be having this baby alone. There’ll be doctors and nurses and maybe a doula, sure, but I always thought my partner would be there with me. And while it’s possible that he may make it for the birth, it’s entirely possible that he will miss it.
I don’t care if my kids get tattoos, but I do have a few ground rules
My two-year old just learned to say “tattoo”. I have two tattoos, and he’s very interested in them. I’m not sure he understands what tattoos are — maybe he thinks Mommy’s skin just grew these intricate designs, like he grew the mole on his leg that he’s also very interested in. Maybe one day he’ll want a tattoo of his own, and if he does, there are six rules.
I became a parent by straightening a bathroom towel
Does my stepdaughter ever even notice that the towel gets magically straightened? I have no idea, but the chances of her thanking me for it are slim, and my mother was right. It’s not the point. Is it important that the towel be straightened? Well, it certainly increases the chances that she actually gets a dry towel next time, but who knows if she even notices whether or not her towel is dry? It makes me feel better about the state of the bathroom and in the grand scheme of parenting, that is not something to be taken lightly.
A diaphragm powered by an ocean wave: how singing through labor made me epic
I’ve always hoped that I would one day discover that I am an epic warrior with hidden powers. If it was ever up to me to save the world, I know I’d be righteous, clever, brave and able to endure suffering and immense challenges so that Good can triumph. Thing is, my life has been sadly lacking wise old wizards with world-saving quests, so I’ve rarely had a chance to put my epic-ness to the test. Even before I got pregnant, I thought to myself: “I bet I can make it through without an epidural. Yeah, I’m definitely going to try that.”
SPOILERS: there’s an awesome Doctor Who-themed family session headed your way
I realize that if you’re not a fan of Doctor Who then this post doesn’t mean much to you, which is why I made the subject line as blatantly obvious as I could — feel free to skip on over it. But FYI Whovians in the house: we have a treat for you today!
My husband and I are divorcing and sharing custody of the kids, fruiting plants, and the chickens
So on our division of assets list when we thought we were nearly done last night, he asked me if we should list the plants. I said, “Just list fruiting plants and chickens — joint custody.” He looked at me for a moment. We just argued over folding chairs and now I say this? He burst out laughing, and so did his family when we told them.
Book you might wanna read: Four Homeless Millionaires
In 2009 my wife and I sold our house in Winnipeg, Manitoba so we could spend a year traveling around the world with our kids. When we returned to Canada, we relocated to Vancouver Island and moved into a community house with another family and a few university students. (12 in total) We’re currently in our third year.