As my sons saw their dad cry for the first time, our love for each other grew
By attending to our messy feelings, we found room for empathy
This essay originally appeared in The Globe and Mail.
I had never let my children see me cry before. I had this tough-guy notion it would make me look weak. But one morning, messy emotion got the best of me.
My eldest son was not feeling well. Although ill, he was looking forward to spending a day with me at home. My . . .
Fuzzy Bunny and the Baby in the Belly
Little brother wants to be a big brother
"Fuzzy," S asked, "do you have any gē-gē's or dì-dì's?"
"I don't know," Fuzzy Bunny answered. "What's a gē-gē and a dì-dì?"
"A gē-gē," S said, "is how you say big brother in Mandarin. A dì-dì is how you say little brother."
"Oh!" Fuzzy said. "Well I have one gē-gē and one . . .
Posted in: fuzzy bunnykid stories
A bedtime chat puts everything into perspective
My son and I contemplate life as we stare at the ceiling
Bedtime with our children used to be heavy on stories. As they get older, our rituals inevitably change. They still like it when we read to them, but it’s not a big deal if we skip it. Eldest often prefers a chat instead. He sometimes shares more about his day, when turning in for the night.
We have a good chat one evening, . . .
Posted in: bedtimeplaying favouritesrituals
One Hundred Miles / Imagine Your Life
Two poems
How my son dealt with smelly comments about his lunch
Classmates made fun of his seaweed sandwich
"Dad," youngest said quietly at the dinner table, "some people made fun of my food today."
All the memories came flooding back. I told him when I was a kid, sometimes A-Ma packed cold chicken legs in my lunchbox. Although I loved chicken, I felt different from those with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (back then it was okay to . . .
Failing as a teacher was one of my greatest life lessons
In dealing with depression, I have become a better, stronger person
Photo: Freeimages.com – Elliot Jordan
Teaching grade school and parenting are very similar. Both involve educating children, and both require great patience. My first foray into teaching wasn’t successful, but it helped me become a stronger person and prepared me for eventual parenthood.
In May, 2000, I . . .
Posted in: depressionfailuremental illnessschooltoronto
I stumbled answering my kids' questions about sex
A Sexapalooza billboard prompted some curious inquiries
“Oh! That sign says ‘Sexapalooza!’ ” my boys giggled, as we drove past a billboard advertising the consumer sex show. After calming themselves, my eldest son curiously asked: “What’s Sexapalooza?”
I glanced at my wife, both of us temporarily unsure what to say.
“It’s a show . . .
Posted in: sexsex educationsexapalooza