the man who thinks he can

I received a gift from my best friend in grade six when I moved away. It was a wall hanging with this poem on it. Although the plaque indicates an anonymous author, some sources attribute it to a man named Walter D. Wintle. […keep reading]


hidden image, hidden worth

“It’s a boat! I can see it!”

My daughter cheered as she broke through the visual barrier of a “Magic Eye” pattern to see its hidden three-dimensional image. I could almost see the ship reflecting from her delighted little eyes myself. Andrea is six, and she found it splendidly gratifying to finally decipher the picture through the patterned design. […keep reading]

more thoughts on being a parent

Last month’s column in the St. Albert Gazette, I shared some of the challenges that parents of children with disabilities face as advocates for their children. As one of those parents, I am thankful for the healthcare system that has supported him since his birth. I am thankful for the exceptional medical attention he has received for the last ten years. I am thankful for an educational system that tries to meet his needs, and for non-profit organizations that fill in some of the gaps. […keep reading]


sweet words on the wall

My seventeen year old daughter posted this on my facebook wall today. In a quirky, delightful way, she made me happier than she could imagine: […keep reading]


pass the priorities

I wrote the following poem 14 years ago, after attending a very fun Cowboy Poetry event. It was a reflection of my own thoughts back then as I struggled to be a perfect mom, and still holds true in many ways. Enjoy! […keep reading]


parents know their children best

A year and a half ago, my husband and I sat with a group of educational “professionals,” discussing the downward spiral of our eight year old son. A child with disabilities, he began an early intervention program when he was two years old. Now, at grade two, he was halfway through his sixth year of school, and for the first time, he was absolutely hating it. His reading and spelling had regressed, his mathematics skills were failing, and his focus and attention was non-existent. […keep reading]


don’t confuse moms over nipple confusion

When my 17 year old daughter was born, I was cared for by usual post natal routines of the local hospital of my home town. To help me sleep through the night after my birthing ordeal, hospital nursing staff suggested that they keep my baby at the nursing station. Since I was not yet producing breast milk, only colostrum, they alternated breastfeeding sessions with bottle fed formula. Bottles of sterile water and formula were provided to me in my room to use if I felt the need, and the Welcome Wagon package included a soother. […keep reading]


estee lauder, old spice, common courtesy and common scents

So I heard through the grapevine today that someone doesn’t like my perfume.

I frowned when the messanger told me, less from offense and more from curiousity. […keep reading]


good better best: excellence or perfection?

When my daughters were little, they received a beautiful handmade quilt for a Christmas gift one year. It displayed a brightly coloured schoolroom motif, scattered with wax crayons and a merry alphabet border. In the centre of the quilt on a blackboard were bold white chalk letters which spelled,

“Good, better, best; Never let it rest, until your good is better and your better is best.” […keep reading]