Raelene Talks--#BellLetsTalk 2016

Someone once said, “Your life begins where your comfort zone ends.” I'm not a Bell customer, but I'm going to talk. So “Let's Talk”, because raising public awareness about something so many people are afraid to talk about is SO important and worthwhile. I should know. I've been on anxiety/depression medication for two years. I spent a great portion of that time as an introvert trapped in the body of a lifelong extrovert. Where I once kept lip gloss in my purse, I now keep Ativan. I've spent months adapting to a “new” me and a much bigger (meds caused me to gain 50 lbs) and better version of me. It was extremely awkward at times to be around people who have known me my whole life, because I didn't know how to act around them and I knew at times they felt the same strange awkwardness around me. I hated trying to explain that I just couldn't do things that in the past I took great delight in. I was embarrassed to tell people I was a gym teacher and that I, in fact, do live a healthy and active lifestyle despite my outward appearance. Often it was just easier to be in the company of strangers, or better yet, alone. At home with my extremely supportive husband and kids was my “happy” place. I could not have made it to this point without them. I quite possibly have the only 5, 6, and 8 year olds who can do their own laundry. Jeff taught them in the months following the loss of my Dad—the months where he did absolutely everything while I did what some viewed as nothing. It wasn't nothing and some days I wonder how I got from there to here. The journey hasn't been easy, but it has been worth it. I appreciate quirky things about others that in the past I just 'didn't get.' I no longer feel like I have be able to explain or be able make sense of everything I'm feeling or not feeling. I don't understand why I had to go through what I did or why other people have to go through it too. I'm not an expert on the subject, I'm just a member of the club and I like to think that, in some strange way, I'm a better person because of it. I'm currently, under the care the my doctor, tapering off my medication. I am completely prepared to spend the rest of my life on this medication if necessary, but I feel it is important and necessary to see what I am capable of handling at this point in my journey. Anxiety and depression are frustrating, complicated, and, at times, very misunderstood, but they should never be something so be embarrassed about. So “Let's Talk” because we become our stories and our stories are worth telling!

Raelene Kenney

Mommy Hates Homework

My barely 7 year-old comes home from school with homework every day.  EVERY. DAY.  We have flashcards which we are encouraged to 'incorporate into our daily practice'. We have weekly spelling tests, daily sentence writing practice, and math problems.  We also have designated reading books to read together with our son and to make comments on.  I am not joking, and I am probably forgetting something (that has certainly happened).  What's wrong with that, you ask? Well, a few things...

1.  Mommy hates homework. Let's be honest, when you are sending an engergetic 7 year-old homework, you are sending ME homework.  Note the word 'we' on that list of homework above. WE have spelling tests, WE have flashcards, etc.  Not a whole lot on that list is or even can be accomplished independently by a wily boy who has just spent the better part of six hours sitting in a desk.  So if you're asking if I would like to spend the precious few hours I have with my son everyday cajoling him, engaging in phonics exercises, and fostering a general distaste for school?  The answer is no.  I am 35, well past anything to do with school, a business owner, and mother of three.  I hate homework, and I've got other shit to do, and if I don't, I would like to enjoy that rare opportunity.  But more importantly...

2.  HE has better things to do.  The average kid my son's age spends 6 or more hours in a school environment.  That is a lot of time for a young child, and it is more than enough to be engaged in structured, academic-y activities.  When my son comes home at 4 o'clock and wants to go sledding, I'm going to say a resounding, “Yes!” And then he has soccer practice or a play-date and a nice family supper, and maybe he wants to read a book or veg out or play with his toys.  He should be able to do ALL of those things without the thought of homework interrupting or cutting things short. And what about tennis, music lessons, crafting, joining scouts, playing make-believe ghostbusters with the neighbour kids, skating, dancing, helping out around the house??  All of those things are equally valuable to his life-long education, and that is, by no means, a comprehensive list.  I think we can all agree that childhood is a crucial time to develop talents and foster diverse interests in our children, so let's do that instead of fighting about homework every night.  What's more, let's let our kids just be kids sometimes!

3.  Kids are going to learn, whether you teach them or not.  As it is, our children spend a huge chunk of their weekday time in a structured learning environment, and that serves its purpose, but no one is going to tell me that at 3:30 the education stops. NO WAY! The structure of school/homework may or may not even be the best way for any given child to learn, and it is certainly not the only way.  The hours after school, in my opinion, should be left open for other opportunities to access learning.  For example, a child who may not excel or particularly enjoy drills in PE class may just really like playing at the park after school and may learn the same, if not more, physical skills. Or maybe that boy who struggles with structured reading exercises, whether it be due to lack of interest or an incompatibility with his learning style, may just really like cuddling up and reading bedtime stories with mom and dad. And I will say this first hand—the opportunity to cuddle up and have a nice book with my kids has OFTEN been foregone in order to engage in an end-of-day battle to get homework done.  That blows.

4. Learning happens, whether it is measured or not.  I think as parents we often get caught up in the parts of education that can be easily quantified or tested in a school environment. We feel we have to do homework so our kids don't 'fall behind', especially when all the other kids (ahem! kids' parents) are doing homework.  We over-focus on material that can be graded like reading, writing, or math, for the simple reason that it is the thing being measured. I'm not immune to this.  How many times have I had thoughts like..'So-and-so's kid knows his whole alphabet', or 'Little Johnny can already count to 100', and then my next thought is 'I should really do more such-and-such practice at home with O' (presumably like Little Johnny's parents).  But rare is the time that I think 'Wow, O has a really developed sense of personal responsibility. I'm really proud of him.  Maybe Little Johnny's parents need to lay of the abc's and work on that.' Perhaps if there was a hard-fast measure of personal responsibility or imagination or social consciousness or things of this nature, we would realize that these utterly necessary skills require as much time, space, and practice as any school subject, and that they are most effectively learned outside the school environment. And just as and FYI, I can tell you right now, if there was monkey-bar test, my kid would wipe the floor with your kid!

5.   Homework helps the kids who need help the least and hinders kids who need help the most.  So if ParentA is involved and generally quite on top of what is going on with KidA's education, then, yes, of course, ParentA is going to practice all the spelling words and do the flashcards and all that jazz, and KidA is going to excel. Great. (Never mind that ParentA was already doing all sorts of wholesome, educational activities with their child before the homework came along and took all the fun out of it) Then you have KidB who excels at structured academic, sitting-down-type activities at school, who then goes home to do homework and further excels at structured, academic, sitting-down-type activities. Yea for him. On the other hand, you have KidC, who struggles with sitting still at school at the best of times, and whose single parent has a heavy load of whatever variety, who then goes home and faces, what is for him, the daunting task of motivating himself to do his homework with little or no support.

Which brings me to my final point...

6. Homework that cannot be done independently of a parent directly opposes a child's development of independence and personal responsibility.  I've seen this a thousand times in many years of experience with children. A child is chipping away with decent focus and effort at a task, say setting a puzzle, and when an available adult comes within earshot, that child then 'needs help', 'can't do this,' waits for prompting, and their eyes glaze over while they take a back seat or quit entirely.  And it is no different with my son's homework. For one, the initiation of the homework process is almost always done by me for no other reason than that he is 7 and lacks the impetus to start it himself, and, of course, this is more often than not met with resistance. Secondly, the homework he is sent with is largely designed to require adult input, and then we have the case of him sitting there, getting less and less interested while I try to coax whatever bit of relevant participation I can from him.  And thirdly, the icing on the cake...There is a big-ass space in his homework book for me to sign EVERY. DAY. presumably marking in stone that I have seen and that I approve of the quality of work that he has completed that night.  Well, honestly, I don't give a shit if I approve of the quality of his work, I give a shit if he approves of his own work.  Somewhere along this continuum of parental involvement and accountability, you end up with parents coming to job-interviews, bickering with their child's university professors about deadline extensions, or 'helping' with research and proof-reading their child's masters thesis. (Seriously, these things have all happened) Puke.  Will these parents be attending work with them every day as well? Joining them in their post-doctoral pursuits? Wiping their bums? Come on.  A child's sense of sense of personal responsibility and independence starts early, and I'm all over that. (Reference Point 1)

There is a time and place for everything, homework included, and I am not saying that there is no value in practicing school skills at home.  Of course there is, and I’m sure there are plenty of ‘measures’ to prove that.  What I am suggesting is that there is a trade-off.  Yes, if my son practices reading and writing for 40 minutes each evening, his reading and writing will improve. That’s a no-brainer, but when he is spending 40 minutes doing that, he is spending 40 minutes NOT doing something else.  Call me old-fashioned, but I think there are more important things to do during the after-school hours.  I also think homework is a perfect tool to transfer ownership of learning from teacher to student at a later age when the student is able to do that work independently, but, until that time, please Mrs. Jones, spare me the inconvenience.  

Dear well-intentioned relatives/friends/strangers--You are killing Christmas

A letter from Santa Claus

I'm not going to beat around the bush here...when you're a kid, Christmas is all about the presents. The tree, the food and the long-lost relatives are all background noise to that main event when they wake up on Christmas morning and, with the sleep dust still in their eyes, run out to find the shiny wrapped present I left for them. And I doubt I have to tell you that this Christmas moment is 'magic' at it's absolute finest. So this is why, with the utmost respect, I have to tell you gift-giving, treat-toting, Christmas-fanatic lunatics that YOU ARE KILLING CHRISTMAS.

Yeah, I'm talking to you, Mrs. Jones. On the last day of school before gluttony season, do they really need a brown paper bag overflowing with peanut-free chocolate bells and candy canes?

And don't pretend this doesn't apply to you, Auntie Dorothy-- You and your two months worth of pre-Christmas junk food and multiple tree-decorating parties. Do you know what makes decorating a tree special? Doing it ONCE A YEAR, not four times.

And YOU at the grocery store checkout, I don't even know your name, but NO THANKS to your bucket of crap plastic toys two weeks before the main event.

As for you Imposter-Santa at the office party, that remote control car you just gave little Johnny? Well, he's been asking for that since July, and I've taken a lot of care to find JUST the one he wanted, but I guess I'll go find a toothbrush and put that under the tree. Thanks for that.

And YOU, Eddie the Shit-elf (Shelf elf? Selfie-elfie? whatever), you're thinking, 'If Christmas is so magical, why not make the 24 days before it magical too?' Well, Eddie, what I'm seeing is that the 25% of people who can be bothered with your gimmick burn out that 'magic' 6 days into December, and the 75% of people who can't have kids wondering what they did that was so AWFUL that they don't have their own whimsical elf gallivanting around their house at night.

And yes, kindly neighbor, I did shovel your sidewalk that one time, but don't you think it's a bit OTT to buy the kids $90 lego sets? Just sayin.'

No, Grandma, you are not exempt, when you bring over their fifth advent calendar, a few Christmas treats (yay, more candy canes), just a few craft supplies, new Christmas pajamas, several stuffed reindeer AND 9 wrapped items, Santa is starting to get a little pissed off. You are stepping toes here.

ALL of you need to realize that your kindly gestures and shit-storm of Christmas crap make it such that when December 25 finally arrives, the kids are kinda done with it, and that 'magic' that might have been opening that ONE special gift from me (the one who, let's be honest, puts in the real grunt work ALL YEAR LONG) is lost or, at the very least, pretty blinking diluted. So, please, if you really MUST share your festive spirit with my kids, please do so with your time. Come on over and do a puzzle with them. Have a hot chocolate with us. I'm sure they'd love to come over to watch the Grinch while I drink some eggnog. As the old adage goes, less is more. Keep that in mind for dear old Santa Claus, would you?

Merry Christmas from the Big Guy

Dear Tardy-Pants Friend,

You're my friend, and I love you. I plan to spend many years enjoying your company, and I think you share the same sentiment. So bear that in mind as you prepare yourself for a little rollicking.

Put yourself in my shoes for a minute here...

I get a call at quarter to 12 from my husband saying he'll be home for lunch.

Me: Cool. Great. Will you be home by 12:15 so I can take G back to school? (without packing up other 3 children)

Him: Yes. 12:15. Sure.

My intuition: No, you won't.

Myself: Shut up and carry on.

The phone rings at 12:14 (No Lie!) and surprise, surprise...

Him: I'll be home in 10 minutes, Dear.

Me: So we'll be late for school then.

Him: No, can't you just pack up all the kids and go?

Myself: Dear, if I had an invention that got 4 kids dressed, seat belted, and free of minor last-minute emergencies in a van during a snow storm in the span on 1 minute, I would be retired.

So my daughter and a frazzled me arrive at school LATE. BUT I WAS NOT LATE. HE WAS LATE.

Not being a person of habitual lateness, maybe you can appreciate that situations like this drive me CRAZY. Now, I'm not a total psycho—I don't get all that excited about the occasional blip—we are all late sometimes, shit happens, we move on. What I am talking about is the sort of people who can NEVER be on time for anything, the people who think 4 o'clock means 5:30, the ones who roll into work at ten past on a good day, the people who run so late that they don't even show up, or if they do, they do so just as you're about to turn the lights out, the ones who arrive frazzled with excuses that they had to do this or that at the last minute or, worse, people who arrive hours late with no apology or explanation as to why the rules of punctuality don't apply to them. Sound familiar? If this is you, at this point maybe you're thinking one of two things:

1. I know. I know. I need to get my sh*t together and be on time. To which I have to reply—Yes. Please do that. Or...

2. What is the big deal if I'm a little late? Well, let me tell you...What is the most valuable currency known to the human race? No, not the Swiss franc. It is TIME. Dispute that, tardy-pans! And when we've set a time to do such-and-such and you are late, you are wasting MINE. My most valuable currency! And I have to say that it is not appreciated.

Now, I have to believe that you are not malicious—my own best friend and husband are part of this peculiar club of yours--so I'm going to go on two assumptions that:

a) it is your strapping (albeit misguided) sense of optimism as to how much you think you're going to accomplish before we've agreed to meet at 1:30, or that

b) you've simply lost track of time

But, you know what?? Neither of those things is OK!! because

a) I am amazed, AMAZED, in the WORST possible way, how one can nearly everyday for 10 years incorrectly forecast their ETA by a factor of 50%. When this has happened for 780^th time, do you not rethink your optimism or the time it will take to complete a, b, and c? I have said this, but I will say it again, if you are a laggard lass/lad (and in my experience, people generally know this about themselves), please, PLEASE calculate your ETA and add 50%. Just DO it, because when you say you're going to be home in time to see the kids off the bus, that event happens at 3:30. So from that point on, I will begin arranging daily tasks (THOUSANDS of em!) with that time in mind and, more importantly, budgeting my patience to expire at precisely 3:30. So, when you stroll through the door at 5:15, YOU, not me, have made for a very unpleasant 105 minutes.

b) You lost track of TIME? You LOST track of TIME? YOU LOST TRACK OF TIME? How does that even happen? But, you know what? You do that, you lose track of time. On some level I am jealous of your ability to do that. You sleep in. Do nothing on weekends. Don't make plans. Eat lunch at 2pm. I don't care, but don't you dare lose track of MY time. When we've made a time-arrangement of whatever variety, I have made my most valuable currency available for you. I have showered at such and such a time, I've gotten my groceries earlier, I've arranged childcare, I've inconvenienced my loved ones, and, perhaps more poignantly have arranged NOT to do 1000 other pressing things in order that I might make time for you.

This may not be what you intend, in fact I'm pretty sure it isn't, but when the situation of me waiting on your sorry-ass arises time and time again, it is to me a suggestion that somehow you think your life/time/issues are more pressing or important than mine. We've all got deadlines, we're all busy, we've all got places to be, unexpected things come up, I get it! I get it because my life is no different than yours, so when you're asking for yet another extension on that project deadline, what else am I to assume? Because, miracly in my life I have NEVER required an extended deadline for anything, yet for you with tardy tendencies, you can rarely meet one. Is this because your lives are infinitely more pressed for time or that unexpected calamity befalls you at every deadline? Probably not. Or is it because you just didn't get your sh*t together?

So because, as I said in the beginning, I love you and wish to spend many years enjoying your company, can I give some suggestions that will help us relate more peacefully?

1. If you can't seem to meet a set time, don't set a time! Give me a ballpark. 'We will be there after 5', 'We'll come over when we're finished grocery shopping,' and for my benefit, if you are not here before such-and-such, I'm going to feel free to start without you.

2. If you know you're going to be late, LET ME KNOW. Give me a call, send a text, whatever. Because if I know that I have 20 minutes or 2 hours, I will do something else. Something productive! Something that is NOT waiting for you.

3. Get your sh*t together. This is your deal. Get a clock, an alarm, a reminder, start getting ready earlier, allocate more realistic time frames, whatever you need to do. There's probably an app out there ready to fix this for you. Get up at 6 AM if you need to, but, this part I have to leave for you figure out. I'd mind my own business, but my time IS my business.

Now don't get all like scared of me or forever-after hold me to some ridiculous high standard of on-timeness. There's bound be bumps on the road to punctuality for all of us, but, as I said, I value our relationship and wouldn't want to let this little annoyance fester in my back pocket and eat away that. It is not beyond me to take our time-arrangements with a grain of salt, and I have certainly learned to do that over the years, but, as a return favor, could you punch up the punctuality just a notch? Just sayin...

Love from your Punctual-Pants friend

Left is the New Right--Election behaviour and misbehaviour??

       Disclaimer:  There is a big fat post on the political fence with my name on it where I sit comfortably during election   time waiting to be pushed off in one direction or another.  The following is meant to encourage fair and productive voter behaviour whatever your affiliation.

Self-righteous, shaming, finger-pointing, backward-thinking--some fine qualities historically associated with the political right.  Did I say 'historically associated' as if that was past tense?  Wait a minute...Did I say 'political right'?  Because these are a few of the things I've seen this week...

Creepy?

What does that even mean?

 Well, there's my vote swayed.

No comment on this one.

And on my way to grocery store this morning...on a STOP sign, someone graffitied the word HARPER.  Yawn.

This is only a sampling of what I have seen this week, and, my sense of humour was generally in tact about it all until I came across a comment that summed up what I see as an emerging pattern in voter behaviour (or more accurately misbehaviour) over the past ten years or so, and that is this... "Is anyone out there a non-closeted Harper voter?"  This is not the first time I have heard the expression 'closeted' in relation to conservative votership, and I think I am right in assuming that the inference/suggestion here is that holding right wing political views is something one should be ashamed of or hide akin to the shame/hiding of one's homosexuality in years past.  I take great offense to this for a few reasons: One is that this is very insulting to the 40 odd percent of people that voted for a (ahem) conservative MAJORITY in the last election.  That's a LOT of people, and probably not many fit the archaic profile of a right-wing voter wearing a cowboy cat, carrying a gun, and driving a gas-guzzling SUV, though I will clarify that the last time I checked those are all totally legal and acceptable activities in this country. My guess is that plenty of these so-called 'closeted conservatives' are intelligent, contributing, even compassionate individuals with NOTHING to be ashamed of.  Two is that throwing around expressions like 'closeted conservative' is sadly to me a a sign that political left is simply taking over the self-righteousness and shaming that they have used to stereotype the right for so long, and I don't see that as desirable.  And worse than anything, I think there is some truth to this whole notion of 'closeted conservative'.  I think the outspoken self-righteous left have succeeded in marginalizing right wing voters to the point where they don't feel free express their opinions without fear of being cast as some awful environment-hating, capitalist, don't-care-about-the-poor-people asshole. And do you know how I know this?  Because I pride myself on always considering and representing both sides to a story... So this is the part where I'd like to post some less-than-desirable mud-slinging campaign material from the right, but you know what? I can't do that. Because I haven't seen any.  So either there are NO conservative voters out there (doubtful) or they have been silenced, and that is not cool and wholly undemocratic.

So the advice from my perch on the fence:

To the left: BE AN INTELLIGENT VOTER.  Get to know the candidates and the platforms.  And if you're taking part in this type of misbehaviour...Cool it with the shaming and the Harper-is-the-devil antics and the like.  Your opinion is WELCOME, but so is everyone else's.

To the right: BE AN INTELLIGENT VOTER. Get to know the candidates and the platforms.  And if you're so inclined, 'come out of the closet' with your conservative views. You are a valued citizen and your opinions are relevant and WELCOME.

I have often thought it a shame that political views be described as 'left' or 'right' as if opposites, but this a simply nomenclatural blunder that we get caught up in far too often. The reality is that most Canadians hold the same core values and goals dear--we want to look after our loved ones, we value health and education, we want to care for those less-fortunate at home and abroad, we value freedom and equality--I could go on and on.  The 'left' or the 'right' views we hold are simply a view as to the best way of achieving those goals.  They do not need to be as divisive as some would have you believe during the lead up to an election.  So, please, whatever your affiliation or lack therof, let that common ground guide your election behaviour into that which is intelligent, fair, and democratic.

How to be Beautiful

If you know me well, you will know that two and half years ago I stopped exercising. Stopped. Nada. Cold turkey. And if you know me really well, you will know that this is one of the difficult personal challenges I have ever faced. I still tear up every time a runner goes by. You see, for me, exercise was not a passing craze. I ALWAYS did it in some form or another. More than being a just a hobby, exercise was the thing that made me feel strong, made me feel energized, and more than anything, it was the thing that made me feel beautiful. So you can imagine the slough of challenges that surfaced as I accepted that this wasn't just a passing phase in my life. I can admit that in the absence of this thing that made me feel beautiful, there were many days when I felt just the opposite—weak, lethargic, and ugly. And I can I also admit that I treaded (and still continue somewhat) in these feelings for some time, but, like so many things, I realized that stagnating in these feelings was a choice. I could continue to wallow in a place of weakness and dis-beauty, because on some level that is a reality, or I could move on and seek beauty in other ways. Now, I wish I could say this was a simple choice where I woke up one day and was all like, “Hey, today I decided I am beautiful again,” But it wasn't, and it isn't. As much as beauty is a choice, it is also a process that takes time—a feeling that is rediscovered. But, I'm happy to say that I am at least on the way back to that feeling, and along the way, a few things have surfaced that have helped in that rediscovery process. So...in the event that you ever find yourself in a similar place, I'd like to share this with you...

How to Be Beautiful

Take a long, hard look at the next infant you see – This is not hard. What do you see? No matter what shape, size, and regardless of features, and, assuming that you are not an evil troll, that baby is beautiful. Perfect, even. And what more are you than a grown piece of that perfection and beauty? For me, this strikes home time and time again as I watch my two little girls grow. Many times people have commented, “Oh, Genevieve has your legs,” or “Melea's eyes are just like yours!” And do you know what? They are absolutely right. Genevieve does have my legs, and Melea's sweet eyes are just like mine! And do you know what else? Those little legs and those sweet eyes are complete perfection, and, what's more, they are growing everyday! And they are no less beautiful for it. So what different are my legs or my eyes 30 years on than an extension of that same beauty? On this point, I make an effort to be conscious of the joy I feel when I behold the beauty of my little girls and extend some of that same joy into how I regard my own self, and on the flip side, I try to monitor my own negative self-talk about my body regarding this bump or that lump, and realize that that negativity is easily reflected onto my children's feelings of beauty. I find this to be a powerful deterrent.

Visualize your body as an entity separate from yourself – Consider all the things about that entity. Consider all the things that body has accomplished or endured. For me, I can look at my body which, just in past six years, bore, nursed, and raised three children, endured two and half years of illness, allowed me to experience all manners of pleasure and pain, and facilitated the countless functional acts that enable me to be a participant in this world. That's pretty awesome!! Maybe your body has taken you to faraway places, made great career accomplishments, accomplished great physical feats, nurtured others, or endured trauma or injury-- whatever the case, it has been there, for better or worse, every step of the way...Now consider how you would talk to that separate entity... Because, I see this happening and do it myself all the time...Would you call your body disgusting, ugly, or lazy? Would you call that entity fat or scrutinize its individual parts? Or would choose to be more supportive, and say something like, “Hey, Good job! Keep going!” or “That was tough, but tomorrow's another day. Hang in there.” When I look back objectively, this sort of negative self-talk has been a constant in my psyche for as long as I can remember, and do you know what? It's gotten me nowhere and certainly never to a place where I was satisfied enough with my body to change that self-talk to anything positive. So why not give this a try?

Try something new. Find a new beautiful – Of course beauty is multi-faceted, certainly not limited to physicality, and it can be found in places you've never been. So if you ever find yourself in a place where you are not finding that beautiful feeling where you are, try somewhere new. Make a commitment to try something that you've always wanted to try, or dig deep and nurture those gifts that you know you have but have left half-open. Discover your inner yogi, artist, lover, reader, writer, gardener, chef, whatever...The opportunities here are endless, but with a little concerted effort, hopefully you will find 'beautiful feeling' in a most powerful way--that is by something you do. And finally...

Beauty is not something you get back to, it is something you move forward to – Because I just happen to be at this stage in my life, so often I hear friends talk about getting back their pre-baby body or pre-baby interests, whatever they may be. Maybe this speaks to a time when they feel they were sexier, smaller, free-er, more independent, firmer, or had more interests, probably all of those things and more. And there is probably some truth to that. But I can tell you from personal experience, if you seek beauty in things past, you may as well be chasing unicorns. It strikes me still that when I FINALLY get the chance to go out on the town in the evening like the good old days, how I find that I miss Alistair and being part of our cozy bedtime routine or how when I have actually managed to fit back into those pre-pregnancy jeans, there is some feeling of small victory perhaps but definitely not beauty. Those jeans may physically fit, but in any other way that counts, they do not 'fit' the person I am today. Having said that, I am exceedingly grateful for moments like these in my life. They are the push that helps me to discover beauty in my present self—a mother, a lover, a friend, a writer. So wherever you are in life, if it is that you are no longer getting that 'beautiful buzz' you once did when you were a high school soccer superstar or if you find you're looking at old photos and wistfully remembering how things used to be, whatever you do, DO NOT consider this your cue to hang up your 'beautiful' hat! Just the opposite...enjoy the memories and continue forward in pursuit of new ways of finding that feeling.

The older I get, the more the old adage rings true...'Life is a journey, not a destination,' and this matter is no different. The way I see it, there won't be a time when I magically 'achieve beauty' and then have it forever-after. It will always be elusive, coming and going, and maybe that's the point. The loss of exercise, while still devastating to me, has challenged me to find beauty and strength beyond physicality, taken me places—good places—that I may have never gone otherwise, and ultimately fostered healthy growth. Wondering where I would be or what I would be doing otherwise had this trial not befallen me is a path I go down more often than I care to admit, but, I am where I am, and there is beauty to be found here just as much as anywhere else.

            For Carla and Courtney for your inspiration and for Rebecca because you asked.

The Myth of "Quality Time"

Tell me nothing like this has ever happened to you...You have a couple of hours on a Sunday (Father's Day Sunday), and you're determined to have a nice family time. You pack a picnic and get the kids all kitted out. You get the picnic blanket, pack up the car, and set out. So and so needs to go pee 30 seconds down the road so you come back, take care of business, and set out again. Kid 2 and Kid 3 declare World War III in the back, and Kid 1, who didn't want to miss soccer for this occasion, has decided today is NOT his day and is making sure everyone knows this by declaring his general distaste for picnics, little sisters, sandwiches, his 'stupid booster seat', little chicks, babies and everything else in between in that perfectly grating tone. On the way, you stop at three grocery stores before you find one that has ice, all the while enjoying the growing cacophony in the back of your vehicle. You arrive at the picnic destination and discover the juice, which has spilled in the cooler, has been sopped up by the sandwiches, but you lay out the blanket anyway, determined to press on...And just as you're threatening that if Kid 1 doesn't CUT OUT HIS WHINING or he will have to sit in the van, you notice Kid 3 green-faced and puking on the slide... ABORT PLAN... Stuff Grumpy, Puky, and Screamy in the van along with soggy sandwiches and return home. HAPPY blinking FATHER'S DAY!

The next day, you wake up exhausted and decide you're too lazy to do anything. You put on the tv, clean out the cooler, and go out to do some yard work. The kids migrate out in their jammies, and, by some act of God, decide that today is the day they will get along. And then all the stars align, and the two hours that follow unfold like one of those dream sequences from the Wonder Years. A jolly game of backyard dodgeball erupts minus the over-zealous (but NOT-ON-PURPOSE, MOM!) balls to the face. This evolves into a game of tag which somehow comes to include water, and the end result is a family water fight culminating in the full five of you rolling in hysterics on the grass before chowing down on ice cream sandwiches and telling knock-knock jokes while soaking up the sun in lawn chairs. And the whole thing reminds you why you did this whole family thing in the first place... MAGIC!

In this day and age of busy-ness where everyone, including the dog, is scheduled to the nines, pulled in 100 different directions and consequently too exhausted to do much else, I hear a lot of talk of 'quality time,' and it goes without saying that some choices are better than others in terms of making the best of one's time. For example, one might choose to go for a family bike ride over, say, watching the Simpson's, but there are no guarantees as to how that bike ride will unfold, and I can definitely attest that there has even been some 'quality' Simpson's times in my past, which leads me to this... It has always been my thought that 'quality' is something you simply cannot force. And do you want to know why you can't force 'quality?' It is because, as I've attempted to illustrate in the previous anecdotes--Quality time is magic. There's no two ways about, and magic doesn't always happen when you want it to or when you plan for it to, it just happens. However, like all sensible things, magic does respond simple mathematical rules, and as I will attempt to prove forthwith, the more powerful factor we need to be focusing on is, in fact, QUANTITY TIME. So if you're willing to bear with some seriously loony-toons logic, here goes...

The (mathematical) Laws of Magic

1. The occurrence of magic/quality time is random. It happens in its own time and space, and cannot be squeezed involuntarily into places of your choosing – Just as you can't squeeze 4 halves into a whole, magic or 'quality time' cannot be squeezed into say, a two hour window on Sundays. I was once out for supper with friends, and at the table next to us sat a father and teenage son. To me, the whole situation reeked of an every-second-weekend custody arrangement, and, as a bystander/spying diner, this social event was as cringe-worthy as watching Keanu Reeves in “A Walk in the Clouds”. The Dad was trying in vain to converse with the boy who awkwardly looked sideways, mumbled one word answers, and incessantly checked his phone. I secretly prayed that they would have the impetus to forgo dessert and put themselves out of their misery, but NO, and by this time it was total silence as they scarfed down their brownies. Painful. But I really did feel very badly for both of them. What I saw was a guy making an effort to do something nice with his son specifically involving conversation, and, in this instance, the attempt at quality time appeared to be failing miserably. But, it was what it was, and 'magic' simply did not surface at this juncture. There has actually been a number of studies done on this particular topic in fact showing a strong negative correlation between father-son outings to BP's and the appearance of 'magic'/quality time, but the reason for this remains unclear... BUT, MAKE NO MISTAKE...

2. Magic WILL happen – Just as two non parallel lines, both in the same plane, are destined to intersect, so is it inevitable that magic WILL occur. This is a good thing. 'Magic'/quality time has long been known to increase the frequency of smiling and laughing as well as decrease the occurrence of heart attacks and feelings of discontentment. It would seem that appearance of magic is a universal law, much like Pythagorean Theorem, and to date, there are no documented discrepancies in its existence/frequency regardless of geographical location, social circumstance, cultural affiliation or any other factor.

3. Magic will surface with the most frequency in the things you spend the most time doing—Hello!?! The law of averages??? If magic is random and inevitable, it only serves to reason that it will surface most often in the activities you spend the most time (ahem, QUANTITY TIME) doing. This is good news insomuch as it is the part of this mathematical equation that you can manipulate. This is where one might find it useful to call to mind your own unique values in terms of which areas of your life you would ideally like 'magic'/quality time to surface. If it is desirable for you to have 'quality time' with your kids, then perhaps consider how this will factor into the 'quantity' investment of your time this weekend. If you are looking for that 'magical' golf swing, consider booking a few tee times. If the magic in your career is lack-lustre, put in a few extra hours. It really is quite simple.

There you go! You can't argue with Math. Choose wisely how you spend your QT (quantity time), and all that's left is so sit back, relax, and allow magic to happen.