In a time when diversity is flourishing all around us, especially in a place like Montreal, it deeply saddens me to hear stories such as the one my hairdresser shared with me this week.
You see, he is gay and ‘somewhat flamboyant’ (his words, not mine), and each time that he shops at his local mall, people give him negative looks and make comments about how he is dressed or the clothes that he is buying. He said that over time he has become resilient and always smiles politely, trying not to let people’s judgments of him get under his skin.  As I profusely apologized to him on behalf of the human race, I began to think about what my students go through on a regular basis because they themselves are different, having difficulties with attention, hyperactivity, daydreaming, learning disabilities, different interests, or inappropriate social skills.

Six months ago, I was completely consumed with my son’s picky eating habits.  His diet consisted of Cheerios and toast and despite everyone’s efforts to reassure me that this was a phase he would eventually grow out of, I was convinced that my son was somehow the exception, that his stubborn refusal to try new things would last FOREVER.

No loving mother would want to see her children in a difficult situation or having a condition that was detrimental to their quality of life.
Olivia is faced with grief every day from her autistic boy's death and wonders what his purpose in life was if he spent it on earth with a disability - only to pass away at an early age.
She wants to know why he existed at all, since he caused so much pain in her heart and tore apart her marriage with her now ex-husband, David.  The answers do not come quick enough (despite trying to consult the town priest), but they do come eventually.

  rainbowThere are moments in motherhood that take our breath away.  There are the lovely moments, like when we hear our children giggle, when we feel the warmth of a hug and a wet sloppy kiss or just the everyday mother-child banter. There are also more difficult moments that can leave a mom feeling breathless, like willing a child’s fever to break or watching them struggle with a painful social situation.

[caption id="attachment_7505" align="alignleft" width="300"]My daddy and me My daddy and me[/caption] Since losing my father at the age of 14, the fear of losing my mother has challenged me in many different ways. I was extremely close with my dad and his sudden death at the end of my grade eight year left me with a tremendous sense of loss and fear. I struggled with separation anxiety as a young child (from 4 until the age of 11) and this tragedy only resurfaced all of those fears.

You know how all kinds of sauces come ready made and in a bottle? Well I can say with sincere conviction that I will never (like, ever!) purchase a bottle of teriyaki sauce ever again. I found this recipe in a recent Food and Wine Magazine (July 2013) feature on their selection of mega talented chefs. Yes, Mr. Nobu Matsuhisa of famed Nobu Restaurant fits the bill. Speaking of bills... with our Canadian dollar dipping, it might be that much more of a stretch to travel and dine at a celebrity-chef restaurant.
With this recipe for Nobu's Chicken Teriyaki, the celebrity chef is you!
The sauce is super simple to make and it will be the best teriyaki chicken you will ever have (unless you go to Nobu Restaurant for dinner instead). Enjoy!

Whether you’re a seasoned dating veteran or just recently back on the scene, first dates can be nerve wracking— especially if a spark has ignited between the two of you already. What makes things more confusing is that everyone in your life has something to say...

Today is my birthday.  I’m 36 years old.
I was woken up with a warm kiss from my husband followe20140320_162804d by wet kisses and big hugs from my son.  He looked at me with his big beautiful eyes full of excitement and screamed “Happy Birthday Mama!!!”. His enthusiasm was genuine and palpable.  And it touched my heart.  The warm wishes were followed by the presentation of a card that he had proudly made accompanied by a song as he strummed his toy guitar.

I HATE winter.  Actually, DESPISE would be a more accurate description. You’d think that after living my entire life in Montreal, I would have developed a certain level of acceptance and simply surrender to the frigid cold, the ridiculous amount of snow and the wind chill.  But unfortunately this is not the case. And now that I have an active two-and-a-half- year-old toddler,  I’ve been forced to confront winter head-on, instead of avoiding it like the plague as I had done in the past, hiding under blankets in my warm socks.

It's funny how your start to reflect on your personal experiences through the stories your children share with you.


They come home and talk about their daily struggles in grade school, and while seemingly trivial, they are all consuming at this age.
How frustrated they felt when the math teacher did not call on them for the answer, although they "really knew it!".  How angry they were for having a recess taken away because they forgot to bring home a note.  How sad they felt when another child called them a name.