Spanking your bad child.

Spanking your bad child.

Okay seriously, it’s time to get real. If someone walked up to you and spanked you because you were having a bad day, what would your reaction be? Kidding, I don’t need you to tell me.

You’d be pissed right off. Not happy, it wouldn’t change your mood, or make you want to hang out with that person, it would make you plain ol’ mad. 

Now tell me, when you’re having a bad day, or you’re angry or you would much rather be in bed, watching your favorite show and not dragged around running 10 errands you could care less about, what would you like someone to do for you? I’ll tell ya what I’d like.

If I’m mad, let me be. Give me a quiet space, or maybe even ask what’s wrong or how you can help. Doesn’t that sound way more reasonable? Doesn’t it make so much more sense than walking up to me and giving me a good ol’ spank to change my mood?

Or how about those days where all you want to do is watch a good show, drink a glass of wine (or milk) and instead you have to run around all day long. And, a temper tantrum hits. Yea, you’re asking a child to do adult stuff and then discipling him by spanking him because he can’t handle it? 

Have you ever tried getting down to their level and reasoning with them before letting your frustration get the best of you and spanking them instead? Boy, it works. And let me tell you, my kids respond way better to a chance to explain themselves vs a smack to the bum for having a bad day. 

A spanking is a result of a frustrated reaction. Not a superior position or needing to show your child who’s boss. They know you’re their parents, after all they call you mom and dad don’t they? You cook their meals and wash their clothes right? They don’t need a reminder. What they need is someone they feel confident with talking to them so they have a chance to talk out their feelings. 

So drink a glass of whatever you choose, take a breath and find new techniques. or better yet, go look in a mirror and practice the death stare, that outta do it.


Part time parenting.

Part time parenting.

If you’re easily offended, don’t like the truth or really think there is such thing as part time parenting…Keep reading please.

I’m going to start by saying, there is no DAMN thing as part time parenting. Whether that child/children live with you or live half way across the world (you better pack your shit and chase them), you aren’t a bloody part time parent! 

When you have kids, you officially devote your entire life to them. Sure go on a vacation, get a job or stay home with them 24/7 (I don’t suggest it) but let me ask you one thing? Do you wake up thinking about your child, and go to bed thinking about your child? Do you cry after days of not seeing your child or call/skype/FaceTime so that you don’t have to miss anything? Good, you really deserve a medal and a high five. This is called parenting. 

Want to know what isn’t parenting? Refusing to pay for a child, if you’re eating a good meal, playing sports and wearing half decent clothes but don’t think you should contribute to your child doing the same…..You are scum. Yes scum. No good, rotten scum. Harsh? No, harsh is letting that child down everytime they can’t have something they need or deserve because the only money available is used to put food on the table and a roof over their head. Sorry kid, no extras for you. Sounds absurd right? It is! 

Or how about that long awaited visit, they’ve been sitting in the window impatiently waiting and asking every five minutes if it’s time yet just for you to not show up, or cut that visit right in half. Hey kid sorry, my other plans take precedence over you so guess what? We have two hours to do everything we were supposed to spend the day doing. Let me tell you something….You’re ruining that child. Their ego, their relationships, future relationships and setting them up for heartbreak. How do you think that’s fair, or even humanly okay? 

Your goal as a parent needs to be to make sure that child has everything they need, food on the table, a bed to sleep in, proper clothing, shoes, access to field trips, sports…..The list goes on. If you aren’t doing it for yourself, do it for them. Open your eyes and realize that this isn’t about you anymore….It’s about them. And if you don’t like it…Too bad.

Identifying your child.

Identifying your child.

I will start by saying I’m guilty of this. So guilty of it that it makes my heart hurt. I totally was that mom who was so concerned with making sure my child was well liked, with lots of friends, in with the “cool kids”. You get the idea. 

Guess what I learned? Identifying my child wasn’t going to help her, in fact I’m sure it hurt her. Who am I to decide who she is going to be? My job is to love and nurture, help my child learn her manners and grow to be a successful adult with strong loving relationships. 

Putting stress on a child to be what you want them to be can really hurt your relationship, your child’s ego and cause great amounts of anxiety by holding them to a certain standard. Let me explain.

If my child comes out of the bathroom, mismatched, hair “done” by herself with shoes that really shouldn’t leave the house and I turn and say “oh my goodness go change! And then please let me fix your hair… don’t want people thinking you’re a scrub”, I just told my child in one breath that what she thought was beautiful, I thought was atrocious. How deflated do you feel when someone makes you feel this way?

Next, your dreams….must remain your dreams. When your child no longer enjoys an extra curricular activity because of the pressure…let me tell you, you’re doing it wrong. Since when did our five-year-old become an NHL player? I must have missed the memo. 

I’m not saying it’s wrong to encourage them to try new things, or step out of their comfort zone. Hell, I have made my kids try all sorts of things! From food, to activities, pushing comfort zones…you name it. But that’s all, I made them try it. The rest…..was up to them. Whether they wanted to proceed with it, or not eat that food again….all their decisions. Because they truly are amazing humans, and they are all so different. If your child can grow up strong, knowing how to maintain healthy loving relationships, uses their manners and is kind to all types of people, than I’d say you’re doing it right! Kudos to you. 

Cheers to my fellow moms.

Cheers to my fellow moms.

My favorite one liner has become “if you aren’t offering to help you’re not allowed to comment”. This has become my way of life. 

I don’t know anyone that likes hearing “their face is dirty again?” “Why are your floors never clean?” “Do they not own any matching socks?” Well I have a simple solution to all these problems. Wipe their face, I’ve been too busy making sure they are fed and not killing each other to notice. Or better yet, here is a toothbrush, you can gladly scrub my floors and please while you’re at it, my toilets could use a scrub too. Don’t like how my kids dressed? I’ll take a kid shopping spree on your visa bill… know what? Don’t mind if I do….

Are you catching my drift? As if we don’t have enough pressure to be that crunchy, well put together, game attending,  face wiping, house cleaning machine (yes because I truly believe only a machine can keep up), we probably don’t need your two cents on how to do things your way as well (you’re wasting your breath, we don’t care). 

Back in the day…..things were different. And guess what? We aren’t back in the day. We are in the now, as in now I’m going to drink my wine with my lunch while my child chases chickens (where the hell did the chickens come from?), and my baby dumps every toy filled bucket because having kids is fucking (sorry 😣) hard…..and I deserve it.

So instead of judging that exhausted looking mom on the fact that she probably let her kids dress themselves, didn’t have time to wipe their face or clean the house before they left for dance or soccer, try offering to help. Or even better……let her know how great she’s doing for keeping those little mess making, huge grinning monsters alive. 

Cheers to my wine drinking, greasy bun wearing, messy house living moms for keeping it real on days like today!  

Where is your line?

Where is your line?

Boundary; a limit that defines unacceptable behaviour. 

There isn’t too many things that I feel super passionate about when it comes to other peoples parenting. I think the term “you do you” defines my feelings quite well. Although, lately I’ve really struggled with watching other people define boundaries….or the lack there of I should say.

Did you know teaching your child boundaries young sets them up to build healthier relationships as an adult? They help protect indivuduals from letting people manipulate them into doing things they aren’t usually comfortable with.

My mom always said when we were younger……your body is yours, your mind is yours. No one can make your decisions for you. 

I can’t recall a single time we were ever coaxed into giving a hug, sitting on someones lap or even something as simple as a high five that we did not want to give. Guess what? I’ve never given a hug I didn’t want to to this day.

Now boundaries don’t just go as far as personal space, but usually they come back to it. When a child hits your child and the other parent isn’t watching, how do you react? Do you scold that child out of impulse? Or do you choose to bring it to the parents attention. I know I’d personally choose to have someone let me know….after all, we probably don’t parent the same. But what happens after that? How do you explain to your child that just because that person crossed the boundary line we still need to follow ours? I’ll let you decide that one. 

In our house we talk about things…whether it is simple or hard, we talk. I always explain to my kids that other peoples behaviour does not define them, and that maybe they need to be taught some boundaries….not by me though. 

Have you ever met a person that regretted their parents teaching them healthy boundaries? Me either. But I do know a few that could have been taught some, it would save them from struggle and heart ache to begin with. And I can guarantee that if everyone made an effort to teach boundaries, we wouldn’t need to be helicopter moms, wives/husbands or friends. Maybe we wouldn’t be watching as many murders, rapes and wars on the news…..

Ponder that while you sip on your sipping drink.

If our walls could tell a story, here’s what they’d say

If our walls could tell a story, here’s what they’d say

If our walls could tell a story, they’d start by saying…. “this family isn’t perfect, nor is it broken”.

I wish the walls could tell you how we’ve built our family from love and affection. From grace and patience and playfulness and peace.

But if our walls could really tell a story it would tell you from the pain we’ve endured, the things we couldn’t take back and the times we’ve lost our patience. What it would also tell you is the love we have, the times we’ve tried to be the best, and how hard we worked to get where we are going. The trust we’ve built together,and how we have gotten through it when it’s been broken.

It would tell you about the birthdays we have celebrated with family, and the ones we celebrated alone. It would tell you the love we have, and the emptiness we’ve embraced. How the most important things in life are the things we have done together.

We’ve brought babies into our duo to make it a family, we have purchased furniture that has made our home more homey and we have painted the walls to hide the juice drips that show how hard it has been lived in.

Sorry walls, we haven’t been easy on you.

We have yelled behind those walls and the tears sometimes seemed endless. We have struggled with loss of family, news of terminal illness and the loss of a baby our hearts longed for. We have fought, we have had times of “imperfect parenting”, but we can’t take it back, we can only make it better.

Our walls would tell you about the time we hid under the blanket forts to hide from a bad day. Or about the endless nights without any sleep that literally drove me “crazy” in a long spout of post partum depression. It would tell you about the times where I questioned my ability to parent, or my relationship with the same person who keeps me sane.

But most importantly they will tell you that we try our hardest, we give until there is nothing left to give and then give some more. It will tell you that right now I still struggle but that the love I am showered with is the greatest gift life can give. It will tell you that I would give anything just to make someone else happy. That we teach love and compassion, that it’s okay to struggle as long as you surround yourself with people that want to see you succeed. But it’s okay to fail.


Trying to find myself.

Trying to find myself.

Today I am writing to you from my job. That’s right…what better thing to do at work than to talk about work.

I’ve had a hard time finding myself lately. What is my passion? How do I identify myself? Is it through my career, my status as a mother or wife or someones friend? I identify myself more and more lately as what I do instead of who I am. Sad. But true.

I had a bit of a heartache at work today. Okay, a lot more than a bit of a heartache. I had to give up something I had waited so long for, something new to identify myself as. Something that was for me. Not anyone else. Just me. I was asked to “apply” for a job that I had been thinking about for the last six months. Finally, I was almost a shoe-in. I thought long and hard about it for a week. That may not seem like a long time to you but it consumed my every thought. I stayed awake at night weighing my pro’s and con’s, thinking about where my kids would go while I was working. What if they were forgotten, or mistreated? What about all the firsts I was about to give up for something I wanted so bad. How selfish of me to even consider this option. I gave up my every want and need when I decided to have children. Right? Tell me I’m right and that I didn’t make a huge mistake. Tell me that it will come again and it wasn’t that once in a life time kind of chance. Tell me anything. But please don’t tell me I made a mistake….because I’m feeling pretty hurt right now.

I never realized that when I was giving my life up for someone, that it really meant I was giving my life up for someone. That the air I breathe is no longer just mine. That if it came down to it, the last bit of oxygen was going to be passed to those little humans who depend on me for everything. That the last $5.00 was theirs. The only thing I haven’t given up lately is the cheesecake in the fridge. That’s mine.

I imagined this to be so different. That I would be a woman of power. That I would take control of these situations and I would make my decision based on how I felt. What I wanted and where I wanted to be. But you know what? That’s exactly what I did today. I want to be the mom that my kids look back on and say “she gave it all up for us”. I still see my friends, I still drink my coffee (cold), and I spoil myself when the timing is right. But for now, the most important thing is that I don’t feel like I have given away their most precious years for a new way to identify myself. That when I look back, I know I made the right decision. That there will be no regrets. I’ll be thankful for the time I have to spend with them, teaching them new things and watching them grow. Today I gave something up for the only thing better. I gave it up for them because they are my heart and sole. They are my right now, and they are my everything. I love you guys endlessly. Today it felt right to identify myself as YOUR mom.