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[caption id="attachment_20164" align="alignleft" width="300"]Baby on an iPad Creative Commons license by Tia.[/caption] When my now 15-year-old twin daughters were little, we would pack crayons and paper for them when we went out to restaurants. Remember crayons? I challenge you to spot a kid using crayons next time you visit any family restaurant anywhere. Most of the diaper set will be swiping their ketchup-smeared fingers across touch screens, chewing on their parents' expensive smartphones, playing engaging games or watching videos on electronic devices. iPads are the new crayons and board books.

Over the course of my career I have dealt with many families who were looking to hire a potential caregiver for their parents.  Families are needing respite and are looking to share the responsibilities of care giving with a trained nurse’s aide.  It is important that you select the right professional caregiver for your parent and the following tips will help you.

I recently participated in a 7-day gratitude challenge.  A friend of mine nominated me, and the directions were quite simple.  I had to post 3 things a day, for seven days, for which I was grateful.  I also was required to nominate at least 3 other people to follow suit and participate as well.  I figured this was one of those challenges that would be easy, seeing as in my opinion I am and have always been an extremely grateful person.

Some say music makes the world go round.  For me, music gets me through hours of exercise and training every week.  It can get me across the finish line of a 10 km run, other days it pushes me to lift more, to do one more push-up or the last 5 squats.
For me training and music go hand and hand. I don’t remember a single workout when I didn’t have my music pumping.

kids classesThe best. That’s what we all want for our children. The best? What does that even mean? Talk about putting a ton of pressure on ourselves, right? When my daughter was born, I remember thinking “I want to do everything I can to make sure she has the best…” Now, between work, school, drop off and pick up, story time and bath time, birthday parties and more – I keep thinking “Let me just get through the day!” Of course I still want to do everything I can to help my daughter develop, so I recently put her in sports so she’s active and, of course, I read with her every chance I get. She started Pre-K this year so we’ve got the social part covered. What else? How can I teach her patience, improve her hand-eye coordination, and work on her self-confidence, amongst other things? How many activities should I put this kid in?

Luckily, there’s one that hits all of the markers mentioned… and it’s simple: ART.

Currently, my family is in full-on potty training mode and I have come to terms with the fact that for now, our lives must inevitably revolve around my son’s unpredictable peeing and pooping schedule.  I have been patiently waiting for this time to come, dreaming of a day where I would no longer have to add diapers to my shopping list.  But now that it’s here, I am realizing that helping him achieve this momentous milestone is a TON of work involving patience, creativity, perseverance and many pairs of underwear.

In a quiet town of Britain, Louisa Clark is twenty-six and has just found out that she is out of a job.  She still lives with her parents, as she is the main person who is supposed to support them.  Finding a new job is quite vital but her skills and qualifications are close to nil.  In the household, Lou must sacrifice her bigger room to her younger sister, Treena because she went ahead and got knocked up and now needs the room for both her and her son.

I have always been what others would consider to be an "overprotective mom" to my two boys.  Being a worse case scenario thinker has made me "one of those moms". 

When my son was suddenly diagnosed with an anaphylactic peanut allergy at the age of 6, this pre-disposition instantly transformed me into a one person army defending his peanut-free safety.

My grandmother and I were very fortunate to be so close.
Not close in terms of physical or geographical distance since there was always about 500 km between us.  But rather, the rare type of close where not only could we finish each other's sentences but start them as well.  As years went on, our very special bond transcended onto my husband and children who loved Big Bubs  with as much heart and soul as I did.

i-h-1I just recently opened a letter to myself that I written at the age of 22.  That is now over 20 years.  I did not expect to wait so long to open it but I never felt ready.  At 22, I was caught up in a vicious food cycle that had basically taken over my life. I remember age 22 being a very tough time in my life; a time of feeling very unworthy and incomplete. I was open to change; I desired change.  It’s hard to believe how a simple exercise would truly impact my life.

I have not read a heart-wrenching, dramatic novel such as this one in a long time.
 The power of a parent’s love is clear and it is strongly felt, even if you have never had children.  The time period of the novel matches the plot perfectly, providing a somber backdrop to the story, which is set in Australia (1920s).

Tumbleweed_rolling As the owner of a dating events company, I am constantly immersed in the day to day trials and tribulations of anything and everything related to dating. Recently, a girlfriend of mine attended one of my speed dating events and wound up meeting a guy whom I felt would be a great match for her. You could imagine my delight when they hit it off so well that their first date followed that very same evening. Within a span of a week, they had been out a total of four times with him having made all the efforts to reach out, plan the dates and keep in touch almost daily. He was smitten!
Their last conversation was by phone and ended with a promise to follow up for their next date… and tumbleweeds.

Kids-Being-Bullied I recently came across an article in Psychology Today called The One Emotion That Really Hurts Your Brain, which discusses a study’s findings that humiliation makes the brain feel very uncomfortable. What struck me about this article, however, was not the outcome of the study, but rather the fact that we, as a society, experience humiliation on a regular basis, sometimes without even realizing it.