I know every word to the theme song for Paw Patrol. I can recite Goodnight Moon forwards, backwards, upside down, and inebriated. I spend the majority of my days creating with play dough, kicking balls, singing nursery rhymes, and playing make believe games with plastic toys. There are a myriad of reasons behind my participation in all of these activities, the most important being that they interest my children. I repeat. They interest my children. When the sun goes down and the babies are tucked in to bed, you will not find me re-reading Goodnight Moon for the kajillionth time. As it turns out, I have a few interests of my own and none of them involve pups who save the day.
I try not to think about it, this aging business. It’s not easy. You think that the shock, after that first time you are called “Ma’am”, or when you realize the cute guy at the gym isn’t hitting on you (he’s trying to help you because you remind him of his mom) will wear off, and you won’t be quite as sensitive. You think that your skin will get thicker and you won’t notice. But you’re wrong.
Who solves a Rubik’s cube in under a minute, yet can’t figure out how to turn his clothes right-side out before they go in the hamper?
Who takes 3 showers a day but can’t remember to grab a towel before he goes in?
Who smells like feet and used car salesmen?
My son. My son does.
Why should you teach your teen to negotiate? Negotiation is a skill that is useful at home because it helps keep the line of communication open between you and your child, and makes them feel heard and like their opinions matter.
The change in my son’s behaviour was so gradual I almost didn’t realize what was happening. At first, I wrote it off as a bad day. I explained his emotional meltdowns as tiredness or hunger—I know how a guy can get when he needs a taco.
One bad day turned to two, and two turned into a week. Before I knew it we were living a new normal. An emotionally unhinged, can-other-kids-possibly-be-like-this normal.
So here I am today, writing from Toddler Hell, where the red cup is never blue enough and shoes are evil feet-demons.
Travelling with kids is a chore, there’s no disputing that. Fortunately even relatively “quick jaunts,” like Toronto to LA, can be made easy if one goes prepared with electronic devices and snacks. But the longer trips? Ones to far off countries? Those are a different story.
We all have our parenting strengths, and families often go through challenges that test us. There are the small but normal developmental hurdles like the first time your child sees what will happen when they hit mommy in the face or try and cut off their own hair. There are the slightly cringe-worthy times they fall off a swing or fail a test in school. But then there are those heart-lurching, life-shifting moments when a threshold is crossed, and everyone involved has to adjust.
Parenting is a tough job. It can be thankless, isolating, and there’s no overtime pay despite it being a 24/7 role. Parenting a special needs baby is that, times about 100. From the outside looking in, I’m certain that parents who see us at parks and activities are thinking “what a shame.” I get it. I really do. I would have thought the same 4 years ago. But now, after parenting my little chicken who happens to have a rare syndrome for 3+ years, I don’t. Not anymore.
Communication is key for us all. It enables growth, self-confidence and drives our ability to live an enriched life. As teens transition from childhood to adulthood it can sometimes be difficult to maintain open lines of communication. But when a teen is living with a chronic disease, such as type 1 diabetes, it becomes critical to keeping them healthy.
Many teens with type 1 diabetes are often in denial. They don’t always manage their condition optimally because they just want to be normal teenagers. I interviewed Deirdre Brough, National Director, Corporate Partnerships at JDRF. Brough is a parent of a young adult who was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes as a teen. In speaking to Brough about what life is like for parents of teens with diabetes, it became abundantly clear that friend-to-friend and parent-to-teen communication and respect can be very helpful for all involved.
My son can legally drive a vehicle. Not just any vehicle, but a manual transmission hatchback that has been my husband’s commuter car for the last five years.
Last time I looked my son was driving his matchbox school bus on carefully crafted track around the house. Now he’s taking a car on roads with stop signs, turn lanes, potholes and … OTHER DRIVERS. Sometime in the last ten years he’s grown taller and stronger than me and old enough to drive. Surely just last week I was teaching him to ride a bike and wasn’t it just yesterday he started middle school?