Sunday, 20 July 2014

PRO TIP: Don't try to wipe my kid's face

Dear Random Lady Who Tried To Wipe F's Face Today,

Wow! What a great day out there, today. I'm glad that you decided to spend your afternoon soaking up some of the Haligonian beauty and enjoying the warm weather. We were really happy to get outside, too.

I'm sorry that you seemed to think I wasn't doing an adequate job of keeping F's face clean while we were enjoying our ice cream cones on the sidewalk. What you obviously don't know is that ice cream tastes infinitely better when you have it smeared all over your face. You also clearly missed the pile of chocolate ice cream-stained napkins from the thirty times I'd already wiped his face. It's hot. Ice cream melts. Perhaps you can see how that was an uphill battle.

I am not sorry that I asked you to please not touch my child. I don't know what planet you live on, but I live in a world where you don't lay a finger on another human being without asking their permission. I also live in a world where people have this crazy thing called "personal boundaries", and when you walked up to us at the table and reached across with a napkin to wipe my kid's face, you're lucky I didn't throw my ice cream cone at you. Of course, that would have been a waste of a perfectly good ice cream.

I know that you (probably?) meant well and that you (hopefully?) meant no harm, but get your shit together, lady. Would you like it if I stood up and fixed your hair? Probably not. 

I hope you remembered your sunscreen and that the next mother of the kid whose face you try to wipe is as patient as I was. If not, you kind of deserve to get smacked.



Wednesday, 9 July 2014


I took an enormous leap yesterday when I sat in a beautiful conference room in Dartmouth that looked across Halifax Harbour and filled out about 30 forms to start my petition for divorce. It was a big step for me. Gargantuan, even.


It's a word I never wanted to use to describe my actions. I could never have anticipated that I'd be a divorced, single-mum by the time I was 26 but here we are. Congratulations, Universe: you got me good. It knocked the wind out of my sails for the day yesterday, and I'm like a wobbly-legged foal this morning but I'll get there. But I'll admit that I'm a little nervous about what the future holds.

Life probably won't be much different, really. I'll have closure. I'll really be able to move on. I'll be able to be truly happy, and finally put my fears and doubts and "what ifs" to rest. And I hope that it will mean that my ex will be able to move on and have happiness, too.

During this journey, just as I always have I find myself returning to a quote I heard when I was in my early teens. It's a quote that describes my approach to life. It's the quote next to my photo in my yearbook. The quote I share with students who are worried about what will happen after graduation.

You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. -- E.L. Doctorow

But just for fun, every now and again, I like to turn off my headlights and imagine what's out there in the dark.