You Can’t Spoil a Child

I just found this little nugget tucked away in some of my writing.

The world around us does not regularly offer support to meeting our children’s needs on a regular and immediate basis. Honestly, it might stretch in the opposite direction,  to some how convince us that interacting with our child over and over again in a way that meets there needs is some how spoiling them. But for something to spoil, to turn truly rotten, it needs to be neglected. Just think of that piece of fruit rolled under the backseat of the car, unattended to for days on end and you’ll understand what I am getting at. Things that are showered with love and affection do not become spoiled they grow, in both strength and understanding of love and compassion. Which is why your relationship with your child matters most.  It matters more than math, unpaid bills, dinner and that text that just came in.

So today, I hope you can find a way, to build up that love bank by taking an extra breath to meet your child eye to eye, heart to heart to take on whatever the world has placed in front of you.

Showing up in love notes !!

A few years ago I got the beautiful opportunity to meet this fabulous woman Sherry, who is making all sorts of magic in the world. One of the spectacular things she brought into my life was the creation of love lists. You can check her and her work out at (and really you should go there).

I am here today to encourage you today to bring some love list making and gifting into your everyday being with the sweet humans you are living alongside. Who doesn’t want to wake up to breakfast with a short list of the top five things you are loving about them in that moment? Or tucking into bed for the night to find a slip of paper under the pillow that lists three reasons for loving them.

Here is one thing my family gets up to. When we are finished visiting friends or family we take sticky notes and hide them throughout the house exclaiming the things we will love and miss most about the folks we have been visiting. This idea can be turned around to do at home as well. Your child goes to their computer screen and their is a tiny love note from you to them. A sticky note on the toilet seat with a good morning wake up love message.

And I will tell you this stuff spreads. Because I woke up one morning to find my entire computer covered in heart shaped sticky notes. Wanting to persevere the awesome I opened up my laptop to see my little love bomber had thought of my next move and also decorated that space. The awesome of spreading love is contagious.

In our busy life of doing it’s easy to forget love can be an action item and not just a feeling. Of course you know you are carrying that crazy big LOVE inside of you a love list lets some of that out into the world so those you love most can get in on the action of feeling all that fabulousness.

It’s okay to be wrong

Not a single one of us is perfect. Not a single one of us knows everything. And not a single one of us is getting through this lifetime without making a whole lot of mistakes. Admitting you are wrong to your children when you make a mistake or get a fact wrong, goes a long way to sharing the power with as opposed to holding power over.

I don’t know about you but I really like to be right. I was raised in a house where you were laughed at and made fun of when you got things wrong. So I hold tight to my sense of rightness. However, this journey of parenting has really humbled me. The world of the internet means my children often come across facts, tidbits and information that counters what I know to be true. And sometimes I am dead wrong about the things I thought to be true. Engaging from the place of  “Wow, I had no idea. How did you figure that out?“ opens the doors to conversations that can expand on knowledge, redirect understanding and open minds. Shutting it down with, “That’s wrong” only does that SHUTS IT DOWN, for both of you. ‘

As well, our children are going to go out into a world of opinions and ideas without us. And I want my child to be able to hold down a healthy debate, stand up for what they believe to be true and consider new information. This here is my chance to model that for them. In doing so I am also saying to them nonverbally you matter and I love you.

Pulling this off for me means paying attention, listen a little bit more than a speak and having the sort of open heart that’s okay with being wrong and owning that. What might you be wrong about today and how will it open up a conversation with your child?



The EXTRA-ordinary is required


Want to add a little extra love to your day why not add whipped cream it! It’s my favorite way to add a little extra magic to the day. Who doesn’t love an extra dollop of whipped cream on their hot chocolate, strawberries or ice cream. Use your imagination here, whipped cream tops many things.

Another fun addition is to turn the whipped cream your child’s favorite color. Or the color of a special celebration, pink for Valentine’s, green for St. Patrick’s. One super secret fun way is to invite you child to make the whipped cream with you and hide that food coloring. Dip it in the bowl before the cream, or a few drops on the beaters and watch with delight as your child is amazed by the magic color changing whip cream.

I use whipped cream here as an example. The goals really is to simple turn the ordinary into EXTRA ordinary to up the love that is spilling out between you and your child.

Tie their laces

I could write a short novel on the troubles we have had with shoes in this house. They took a long time to feel good and when they did we wore them until they fell apart,  dreading the moment when they felt too small and a transition was required. For my oldest son his usual was crocs for the summer months and rubber boots (a specific brand) for the winter. Both styles were worn into the opposite season for longer than other folks because shoe transitions were hard.

So as you can imagine there was not a lot of time, practice or opportunity for the learning to tie laces. When they got older we did try some shoes that had the dreaded laces. And I always tied them without complaint (okay, I tried to always tie them without complaint I am human after all). When you are in a rush to get to playing with your friends the last thing on your mind is learning how to tie your laces. It’s not what one could or would call a teachable moment. This is a moment to show up with a dose of love and tie those laces. With the years and years of experience you have doing it you are going to be way faster and it’s truly hard to focus on learning something new when you have a burning need on the other side, to get going somewhere else. The loving thing to do to facilitate your child’s need in the moment is to willingly bend down and tie their laces.

This idea can be extended to include a lot of the little things we can do for our children throughout their growing up. It can be easy to buy into the idea that children are being lazy by asking for our help. Or that at some magic age decided by someone outside of your child they should be able to do these things on their own, without hesitation. I am here to assure you that your twenty-five year old son or daughter will not be driving across town to ask you to tie their shoelaces.

When our children turn to us and ask for help it is because they need help. That’s it. They are not trying to manipulate us. They are not spoiled. Truly, when our children turn to us and ask us to help them with something they can do for themselves, they are not being lazy, they are asking for a little extra love for reasons we probably can not see on the outside. I would much rather be that mom bending over and saying through my actions “I love you” than the one pushing her children away from her side with shaming comments about their age and ability.

I, even now with a teenaged son just shy of six feet tall,  willingly and happily bend down and ties his laces. Cause no matter how many times he ties them I am going to always have a few more years of experience on him.

Together, we do hard things

My TimeHop app reminds me again today that I left my homeland seven years ago. I think about letting the day pass without notice or celebration. I mean come on it’s been seven years at what point do you stop noticing. But then I remember why.

The first reason is obvious. I mean come on who doesn’t need a little extra cupcake in the busy-ness of being all grown up in a work focussed world. I know i am all for any excuse to shift my focus from obligation to celebration.

Next up the amount of courage it took for all of us to leap into a brand new far from home country is no less impressive seven years later. I know that is it true that in the moment of yes, none of us were super clear on what we were getting ourselves into. More so for the then five and seven year old who were coming along with us. I have held both of them in the years between then and now as they wept over statements like “Can we please move back now?” “I didn’t agree to this long,” and “I F***ing hate this place.”  Truth be told I myself have wondered the same thing more than once and found myself at loss for words when questioned. I have wept over my own grief as the dates have passed marking the time when each child has lived in the US longer than they have in Canada. And wondered if this will potentially stack up against me as their mom when they reflect back on their childhood. That’s a tough one to swallow, it wasn’t in my original game plan. So it’s not just the courage it took to say yes that we celebrate, it’s the courage we use each day to find the joy in a place that still feels unfamiliar a lot of the time. The courage it will always take to live too far away from family in a place that measures temperature in fahrenheit when all you’ll ever know is celsius.

At the same time we celebrate the depth of opportunity for learning, adventure, joy, connection and epic stories that our California living has gifted us. It has become our normal now. Too hot weather, not enough rain and constant pokes at our invisible accents, don’t disrupt us as much as they used to. We boast with great pride to each new person, with in the first few minutes of meeting, that we are indeed Canadian. Some may say we are far prouder Canadians living away from home. We celebrate how hard we have worked to keep roots, not only in the land but in the hearts of the family and friends we left behind. We celebrate the strength it still takes to reach out to build new friendships when we feel like the dear ones we already have might just be enough.

But the biggest thing we celebrate is our ability to do hard things together. The bond that brings us over and over again, from the edges of self despair back into the folds of our combined strength. The love that holds us up when anything threatens to tear us down. The promise to never leave a member behind but instead to rally together to lift each person to their highest potential. How we choose always to stand side by side holding hands, as we did seven year ago, to walk into the unknown buoyed by our combined power to do hard things.

Dance Break


When the mood gets dicey, the melt down is rest around the corner this has got to be one of the best ways to turn it all around. Whether it is you or a child, I recommend installing this in the everyday day of living this life. TAKE A DANCE BREAK.

You don’t need to have any special training or moves for this one. You just need to move to the music. We dance a great deal around here. Sometimes I do it to catch a laugh in the strangest of situations. Nothing stops a meltdown midway faster than mom dancing down the cereal aisle (worth noting that timing does matter on this one because not every melt down is conducive to the insertion of humor). Days on end of rain or cold or sickness can be transformed (if only for a few moments) by a stereo turned a couple notches too high and getting your groove on. At the end of a movie, there is most likely a song why not sweeten the transition by popping off the couch and shaking your booty. In the airport too long, listen somewhere there is music and always there is room for a little dance break.

One day my youngest son and I were at the hockey rink. He really does not like the hockey rink, so we danced there a lot. He looked at me and said “Mom it’s like we are the only ones who can hear the music.” It was true we were the only ones dancing. In front of strangers, to music they may have tuned out. In that moment I was so very connected to my child and what could make his heart smile without concern for those around me. It can be tough for me to let go and dance in front of strangers. But when I think about what I am showing my child, it makes it that much easier. I am helping him to see that marching to the beat of his own drummer feels good. And that  whenever  he finds himself in a place  he would rather not be there are ways to lighten the mood, with a dance break.

Even if you are at a stage in your life when you are not in the presence of children, I recommend throwing down the dance break when you need a little lift. I promise it will only feel uncomfortable for a moment or two before those happy hormones start hopping and you have slight interlude of happiness.

A Deepening Understanding of my Privilege

It feels like a long time since I have turned to these pages to share my passion for parenting. Since the election in November my understanding of the world around me has been turned on it’s head. There has been a lot of guilt to wade through, hours of education to be done and a whole lot of privilege to spread out for serious examination.

To think that the issues each person is fighting for today, under this new administration, are new is so deeply naive. Me showing up to the fight, that part is new. But the issues are not. People have been fighting a long time and I have been sitting in that place of blissful ignorance. I am owning that and it has been a tough hard bitter pill to swallow.  But it’s about damn time I got to swallowing it, moving on and rolling up my sleeves to dive in.

A huge part of this for me has been looking at my own privilege in a way I never have before. I would come to these pages to write with passion about the ways I think children should be treated, how we should parent from a place of partnership and throw down a whole lot of stories about how to go about doing that. Which is all so very nice in my white stay at home mom bubble of a fair world where we all have the same opportunity to do this. But that is just not true. We as mothers don’t all have the same opportunity to show up for our children in the ways we would like to. Don’t get me wrong, I still believe each and every child deserves all the love and respect I have written about over the years. I still stand behind my words. I see now clearly how covered in privilege they are which has be considering things in a whole new light.

I have know for years that being able to be home with the boys outside of the school system is a privilege. I likely would have argued that we gave up certain things to live as a single income family, which is true but does not take away the privileged piece of this. I was already ahead of the game by having a stable enough income to make this choice. I also did not have to worry what people would think about me out in the world with my children during school hours because of the color of my skin. I did not have to worry that folks would think my choice was harming my children because of the color of my skin.

But this goes deeper. My children can launch out into the world of work, college and choice from their homeschooled background with more doors open to them than can some of their peers simply because of the color of their skin. My sons will  be given a wider field of opportunities because of the color of their skin. It could be true that the unconventional schooling path will make for a door or two that closes on them but since ALL the doors were wide open because they happened to be born with white skin and a penis will make this almost unnoticeable to them. Begin able to consider an unconventional path to education was a privilege in and of itself. I didn’t have to consider how this would close more doors to them. I didn’t have to look at the world around them and choose school because it was a path most folks would respect and stood to open some doors that were closed to them because of the skin color they were born.

Understanding this privilege on this deeper level truly has left me a bit at a loss for words and unsure of how to move forward with my own work in the world. It has been for all these years about loving up these children with the best of our ability, undoing our own stories to show up for them over and over and over again without any foundation of understanding of all the steps up in the world I had giving me this pretty little pedestal from which to preach. Now that I can see where I am standing I need to re-evaluate what I am saying.

I think the answer comes, still in valuing the treasure that is each and every child in this world. The missing piece is how we come together and help each and every parent in the world become that parent for themselves. How do we join together to combine our resources so they can be distributed a little more evenly? So as you see here, I’ve only come up with questions which I suspect will be the basis for a slight direction change in my own journey as passionate parenting writer. I do hope you come along for the adventure.

The children are watching : on becoming an activist.

This space has been silent for a while. Something happened when the place in which I live elected a misogynistic, racist to be president. If you are reading this please don’t tell me that had nothing to do with why you voted for him. Because to vote for him you had to decide to look away and that those issues were not important to you. I am not saying you hold those values I am saying they weren’t deal breakers for you and that is terribly disappointing.

I was also wildly ignorant. Believing the media the played before my eyes assuring me this man would not become president. I looked away and listened to their well rehearsed denial that quoted sources that were flawed. I hid underneath the line “well I can’t vote anyways so this mess isn’t mine to deal with.” My privilege created a bubble that wrapped me up safely to believe that the world around had left racism, sexism, ableism and heteronormativity behind. I turned a blind eye to the pain, the struggle the fight that my peers of color deal with each and every day just trying to be in this world. I was ignorant. So very ignorant.

I woke up that night when the unthinkable played out on my television screen. I woke up to realize how uneducated I was. And that is where I have been ever since, educating myself. I am far from a full understanding or education. I only just figured out who my senators and representatives are. I’ve only scraped the surface of knowing what institutionalized racism is and all the ways it benefits me. My white privileged backpack is still full of things that need to be unpacked. But I am not waiting to be perfect at this before getting my boots on the ground and showing up for those much more vulnerable than myself. I am not sitting on my couch yelling at the TV about what is wrong any longer. I am instead going to local counsel meetings, I am talking to my neighbors I am LISTENING more than speaking to those who do not wear my same  privilege. I have left behind mainstream media to seek out alternative news sources. I am rallying with those in my community to further educate myself in how best to use the resources that I have unjustly earned. I committed to becoming as comfortable as I possible with DISCOMFORT. I have had 44 years to be comfortable, I will not let another pass with my head buried so deeply in this skin that was born upon my body.

We have children to protect. They are already far better than those gathering up to lead the United States right now. They were born free of any of these isms. I see it. In front of me everyday. The ease with which my children use new pronouns and ask as easily “what pronouns do you use,” as they do “what is your name?” I see it when they watch a television program or movie that I enjoyed as a child and say “whoa that’s pretty racist.” I see it in their willingness to learn, to questions to grow in their understanding. And I see it in how fiercely they stand behind their own knowing of how each child, each person has a right to the same privilege as every other person. And I remind myself that they are watching right now. They are watching our every move. It is not enough any longer for them to know that what is happening is wrong. They are eyes peeled on me looking to see what happens when a bully moves into the white house. When policies are tossed around that threaten to strip rights from their friends. They are with their eyes, ears and hearts watching to not only witness but to know what to do in the face of great injustice.

It is with that knowledge that I stand up. I add my voice louder than every to the call for justice for all. I educated myself in how to be the best white ally to my community of color that I can be. I become their truth seeking, activist, will not rest until ALL HUMAN beings receive the full respect and dignity that is our birth right, mama.

I wish I could throw down right here my golden plan but if you read a little above you will see I am still scrambling up hill to get all the information. I can sprinkle to the ground here a few resources that have gotten my feet moving toward a better future for all the children. I can beg of you to join me in this fight, in the ways that you can, to fix this mess so that we may be proud of the world we hand over to our children.

Resources (please send me one that you are standing behind so that this list can grow!)

Planned Parenthood – they need our help with the new administration planning to defund them and promising to limit women’s access to abortion and birth control, consider a monthly donation. You can also become a Defender which gets you direct action information on how to protect this resource.

Stand Up For Racial Justice – there are many local chapters that you can connect with for both direct action and education.

15 Books for Fighting for Justice in the Trump Era

We are his problem now – be a part of the direct action that will get in the way of the Trump agenda.

ACLU – they need our support. Stay informed. Consider a monthly donation

The Trevor Project – Founded in 1998 by the creators of the Academy Award®-winning short film TREVOR, The Trevor Project is the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning (LGBTQ) young people ages 13-24.

Learn how to have dialogue with those of differing opinions here. This is where we start to move the conversation forward.

37 days of activism – this is a course I recommend for all. It’s affordable and filled with true actions and education. It’s where I started.

This is only a beginning list. I am committed to coming back to it over and over again as my own education strengthens. Please send me your resources so we can build a more just tomorrow for all the humans.