Why I’m Okay Being Chopped Liver (For Now)

When I was pregnant, early on before knowing the gender of our baby, I secretly wanted a boy. I know- as a mom, this is sort of one of those unspoken rules you’re never to speak of: never admit your favourite child and never say which gender you would have preferred first. Hear me out, though. My husband is a

Crazy Love

In observance of Valentine’s Day this coming Sunday, I thought I would dedicate today’s post to the spirit of love. Yea, I don’t really know what that means either but go with me for a minute. Full disclosure: we don’t actually celebrate Valentine’s Day in our house. If it weren’t for covid, we might have gone out for dinner (not for any reason other than we all need to eat at some point so why not) and would’ve called it a day without much hoopla or recognition. For the record, celebrating or not celebrating this occasion is, to me, not an indicator for the abundance or absence of love in a relationship.

Anyway, since we’re all here I thought I would share some amazing bonuses to being married while we’re on the topic of love (also, a girl needs content):

• You always have someone else to drive you around. You might get to your destination with one more reason to start anxiety medication, but you’ll get there nonetheless!
• Gaining extra weight is nearly impossible because someone is always there to eat the rest of your meal… even as you’re eating it.
• You become a pro at splitting things in exact equal parts like every scone, piece of cake/pie or delicious treat because any discrepancy in portion size could lead to an argument about which spouse is trying to mentally harm the other.
• You don’t need a hairdresser during lockdown. Albeit there will be some yelling, your hair likely won’t be straight (or far from it), you’ll wonder if your spouse is horizontally challenged, and you’ll probably look like you belong on the set of “Girl Interrupted II” as a movie extra.
• You become exceptionally skillful at finding creative places to hide your favourite snacks.
• You always get some sort of gift every time you enter your ensuite bathroom (think wet counter, the obvious, or beard hair decorating your sink).
• You are never alone… when watching your weekly show. There is always some sort of background commentary to remind you that you don’t live with an adult but a distinct man-child who likes to make fun of what you watch.

All jokes aside, Valentine’s Day can be a hard day for some. Maybe you lost a partner recently and this will be the first Valentine’s Day without them or perhaps you are finding it particularly tough to be on your own at the moment. Whatever the reason, I hope you see the love that exists in your life and find comfort in knowing that you are not alone. I think, in life, it’s important to consistently maintain full perspective and be positive, but also to be as realistic as possible. No relationship is perfect, not everyone is happy all the time. Marriage is lovely and it is hard. Being single is liberating and it can be challenging at times. This weekend (and maybe all the days of the year), let’s try to remember and celebrate all the types of love in our lives.

To my husband: I am the crazy one- thank you for seeing my crazy, pretending it isn’t there most days, and loving me anyway. 

 

 

 

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• I’m An Asshole
• The Mighty
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• So, That Happened
• The Art of Quitting

All the Small Things

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The Meaning of Stuff

When I was a preteen I dreamed of meeting a boy, falling in love, getting married, and then he would know exactly what to gift me for every occasion without me ever having to give him any clues. In fact, the least amount of clues I had to impart meant the greater his love for me; it would signify how much he knew and cared about me if he got it just right. You know, similar to when Richard Gere gave Julia Roberts the necklace in Pretty Woman (minus the

On Motherhood

I’m walking down a corridor in a popular mid-town mall with a couple of my best friends when we pass an adorable baby with endless chub. Then it suddenly occurs to me- I also have one of these. I, too, am a mother. This scenario always happens when I least expect it. It’s an odd feeling, as if it only just occurred to me that I also created human life. “Someone actually let you be a mother?” is a thought that pops into my head every single time; like I needed permission to push a 10 lb. meatloaf out of my own vagina. No, there is no aptitude test for parenthood. One day you’re not a parent and the next day, well, you just are. Here is a quick synopsis of what actually happens in the process (in case you weren’t aware):