Tag: parenting

Posted on in ageing, family, mental health, retirement, work

Retirement: a man’s perspective

Man with a big fish

Special guest blog by Dave Swinton

Retirement has been a difficult transition for me. I’m coming up on two years now and I still haven’t adjusted as well as some people do. I was sitting this afternoon, watching the rain pelt against the window obscuring a grey fall transition to winter, when it hit me.

Nobody needs me anymore.

I was always in middle management in my career. Always giving vague direction and punishing people for not reading my mind as the old Dilbert cartoon used to read. My specialty was putting out fires. People came to me looking for answers and I tried my best to write a plan on a cocktail napkin and hope it worked well enough to fool my superiors. 

My days were an endless mix of planning, timesheets, scheduling, maintenance and finding the best ways to get the most out of each and every person who worked for me. I loved being needed at work even if I didn’t always love the work itself. Fast forward two years later and the only decisions I have to make are which trail to walk the dog on and what we are having for supper. Work doesn’t need me anymore.

My kids certainly don’t need me either. Both are out living their lives, one almost finished university (so proud) and looking at where she will end up next, the other knee-deep studying whatever biochemistry is. Except for rare conversations about new musical groups (Red Clay Strays and Tyler Childers) and the odd supper, they are completely and utterly embracing their own lives. No more rides to a remote hockey rink on a snowy winter road, no more conversations asking for advice on relationships. They don’t need me anymore.

Honestly the only person who even tolerates me is my life partner. Truthfully, I think if she had to pick between me and the dog, we all know who would win. Bookending Monday badminton and Tuesday line dancing is Friday writing groups and Saturday stock sport tournaments. She has embraced retirement with gusto and I am glad for this. She doesn’t need me anymore.

All the influencers talking about retirement being the golden age should have their heads examined. For some, retirement is a time to worry, to wander aimlessly trying to find direction and meaning in their lives, all the while wondering if their investments will support them until they leave this earthly abode. 

I know that some of you are saying to yourself, what does he have to whine about? Lives on a lake, semi-good looking, gorgeous wife, yada, yada, yada but for some, myself included, the emptiness from not being needed outweighs all aspects in life.

Tread well into retirement my friends, sometimes it’s not all as advertised.

And if you see a white Dodge Cummins diesel with a 30-foot trailer rolling down the 401 at a buck twenty, festooned with Kingston BMW logos on it, know that someone is still depending on me to deliver a car that is worth more than my last annual salary. I guess someone still needs me……….

More on retirement

Posted on in dogs, family, humour, parenting, work

Lessons in parenting, dog rearing, and leadership

Dog and teenager

Years ago, when my kids were young, I wanted to write a book called “700 Ways Raising Kids and Dogs are the Same”. I didn’t because it’s already been written.

But as my dogs and children grew old and I progressed in my career, my belief that the same principles for being a good parent, dog owner, and leader became even more steadfast. These are the principles:

  • Trust is the foundation of everything
  • Just when you think you have a handle on things, know things will change
  • If you set clear expectations, it will usually get done, but probably not on your timeline
  • Food is a great motivator
  • Treat them equally, but different, and give them your full support
  • Seek and capitalize on their strengths, instead of focusing on what they can do better
  • The best ideas come from the most unusual places (in the case of children, never underestimate their creativity or intelligence)
  • Always be yourself: you can never hide who you truly are—they’ll know
  • Be present—it’s the best gift you can give them
  • There is no substitute for love and encouragement

This week’s #HappyAct is show love and encouragement at work and at home (and when all else fails, bribe them with some treats).

A final note on parenting: I read only one parenting book and listened to one audiotape before we had kids. I remember one story about a father trying to get their teenage son to put the garbage out each week. Every week, he’d remind the kid it was garbage day and to put the garbage out. The teenager kept forgetting. Then one day, the kid put the garbage out. When the father looked surprised, the kid said, “What? It’s my job.” The kid put it out every week after.

Posted on in humour, parenting

Blame it on your kids

Two teenagers standing on a pier at dusk

A few months ago, I was sick as a rabid dog for two weeks with a nasty cold, the second time this year. One of my neighbours asked whether the reason I’ve been sick so much was because my body was finally deregulating after years of accumulated stress from working, and now that I’m retired, I’m more susceptible to colds and flus.

I said no, the reason I get so sick now is I had bronchitis when I was pregnant with Clare, and that compounded with COVID has weakened my immune system for battling chest colds.

I blamed it on Clare.

Blaming your kids for everything from getting sick to having a messy house, to being late for dinner is a rite of passage for parents. It’s one of the reasons we have kids (and dogs for that matter).

If your pristine kitchen looks like a dumpster accident by dinnertime, blame it on the kids.

Missing your favourite Roots hoodie? It must be in that mound of clothing growing like a Chia pet on steroids in your teenager’s closet.

Running late? It’s not your fault. If you didn’t have to remember backpacks, water bottles, extra clothes, toys, and enough snacks to feed an orphanage every time you left the house, you’d be early for that appointment.

Broke? Don’t even worry about making an excuse. Having kids is like attaching a Dyson vacuum directly to your bank account. Everything you own gets sucked into the universe.

You can also blame your kids to your advantage. Say you don’t want to attend a boring family reunion or work party. Make up some excuse about needing to take little Susie or Jimmy to their piano recital or big game, and not only are you forgiven, you are a hero, sacrificing your own fun for your kids. 

The great thing about blaming kids is you can even blame them for something they didn’t do today because they probably did it years ago. (This works for spouses too).

Say you’re late for work, and it has nothing to do with your kids. You can still blame it on them. They’ve probably made you late a gazillion times in your lifetime. Go ahead. Blame them with a clear conscience, without compunction or guilt. The little or big cretons deserve it.

There is one thing you should know about blaming everything on your kids. When they become adults, they turn the tables and start blaming everything on you.

This week’s #HappyAct is to play the blame game and have some fun with it. Just don’t blame the messenger. Have a happy week!

Posted on in community, dogs, mental health, nature, parenting, travel

Stroll in a city park

trees and path in park

If you want to get a feel for a place, spend an afternoon in a city park.

A city park is a refuge, a place to exercise, play, eat, rest, and reflect. It’s a place where neighbours, friends, strangers, and lovers meet. It’s a special place that is often the life and heartbeat of the city and the community.

When I travel, one of the first things I like to do is take a stroll in a city park. Whether it’s Regent Park in London, Central Park in New York, or Stanley Park in Vancouver, I love exploring the meandering paths and watching the people and activity going on.

Gage Park in Hamilton has been my strolling ground lately since we are housesitting for Dave’s sister. Here’s what I’ve observed during my morning walks.

Conversations.

An older couple sit on a bench talking to a homeless man. He shares his experience of living in shelters across the country, from Charlottetown to Saint John to Hamilton. He spends part of every day at the Salvation Army. His voice breaks when he tells a story about being chased by street gangs downtown.

Two young mothers pushing strollers walk briskly, sharing confidences. “I’m always thinking, what can I do tomorrow to keep him entertained so I don’t lose my mind. Where’s me? I feel like I’ve lost me becoming a Mom.” The lament of every young mother. I say to them in my head, “Don’t worry, you’ll find yourself again.”

A man wearing a Toronto Blue Jays hat. He doesn’t think their chances are good this year. We chat about the weather and he asks Siri for the forecast, which is very detailed, chance of showers later in the day with a heat wave blazing toward us by the weekend. He used to work on a chicken farm on Starr’s Island in Port Perry and loves dogs. He takes the bus to the park.

Sights, sounds, and smells.

The fragrant scent of lilacs and peonies and roses and the surprising smell of vinegar in the rose garden.

Birdsong. Robins chirping in the trees. A cardinal singing, brightly welcoming the morning.

Black squirrels with brown tails and grey squirrels with black tails chasing each other around the craggy bark of a Kentucky coffee tree.

Bike bells chiming as a man on a bicycle passes a bunch of kids on scooters.

two squirrels on a tree

All ages from all walks of life.

A man in an electric wheelchair whirring around the park blasting out Steely Dan on loud speakers; it’s a Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress on his second tour.

City workers hunched low, pruning and weeding in the rose garden, talking about their plans for the weekend.

A young couple lying on a blanket, their heads resting on their elbows, almost touching, deep in conversation.

Toddlers in blue and pink onesies with hats with brims so wide you can’t tell if they stumble because of their pudgy little legs, or because they can’t see two feet in from of them.

A dog walker with six dogs, four types of doodles (always the doodles), a husky and some kind of German shepherd cross. How do the leashes never get tangled?

A parade of mostly mothers and strollers marching through the park and gathering in a circle under a big oak tree for a yoga class.

An older gentleman dressed nattily in a blue checked short-sleeved shirt, grey dress shorts and socks, black running shoes and a bowler hat, jogging slowly through the park. How does he manage to look so dapper jogging?

Teenagers splashing each other with water from the fountain, screaming and swearing, oblivious to the disapproving looks of the older woman sitting nearby.

That irritating older woman, always on her phone, looking down instead of up.*

This week’s #HappyAct is to take a stroll in your city park and discover the heart of your city.

*Ed. note: To truly experience the sights, sounds, and smells of your stroll, it’s recommended to stay off your phone. I did use my phone to take photos and notes since I have a poor memory. And for those of you with a historical interest: Many of Canada’s grandest city parks were built in the golden age of park development from 1874-1914. Mont Royal Park in Montreal was built in 1874, Stanley Park in 1888, Assiniboine Park in Winnipeg in 1909, and Gage Park in 1922. As cities developed, there was a recognition that people needed access to nature for their physical and mental health. The City Beautiful Movement rose which promoted beautiful public spaces, including buildings, streetscapes and parks.

dog in park

My trusted companion on my morning strolls.

Moms and strollers in the park
Dog walker with six dogs
Fountain at Gage Park in Hamilton
Posted on in ageing, family, parenting

Make time for messy exploration and play

Woman standing in a daycare

Do you wish sometimes you never grew up? That you were still a child, with no worries, responsibilities, or never-ending to do lists in your head, just the prospects of a new day of exploratory play and learning?

I found I was mourning the loss of my inner child a bit yesterday when I toured an absolutely amazing facility, the Child Care Centre in Sharbot Lake as part of the 50th anniversary celebrations of Rural Frontenac Community Services. The Centre was founded by my dear friend Audrey Tarasick who served as the Centre’s director for a decade in the 1990s. As part of the celebrations, the Centre dedicated a bench in the playground to Audrey who passed away last year.

As I toured the Centre, I could feel Audrey’s presence in every kiddie cubbyhole, reading nook and painting cranny. There were tiny wood tables and chairs, a big circle carpet with trees and clouds, and toys everywhere. Audrey loved children and she had the unique ability to see the world through a child’s eyes and let children guide their learning by letting them play, explore and take the lead.

I saw artwork and toys and banners with messages like “Learning is messy business,” “Creativity is messy and we are very messy”, and “Every child is an artist”.

It made me wonder why, as adults, we hate mess and seek out organization and structure, and what impact this has on our creativity, happiness, and ability to learn and play?

I bumped into Marcie Webster who has worked with RFCS for 34 years and who remembered me from the days when I brought my two girls to her play groups. She shared a story about one of her first few days at work. A child had mixed some red paint with yellow paint and Marcie had said to the child, “Try not to mix the colours”. Audrey asked her why she told the child that, and Marcie said so the paints would be intact for the next child. Audrey replied, “But the child was exploring and learning like a scientist. Let them learn.”

Early in my career, I worked as a copywriter for an educational toy company, Discovery Toys. Their motto was “Play is a child’s work” and their belief was children learned through exploration and play. Because I had to write about the toys, we would play with them every day. I literally was paid to be creative with the toys and play. It was a great job.

When it came time to take a photo of Audrey’s family on the bench, instead of sitting normally, one of her great-grandsons hung upside down with his legs flopped over the back of the bench (his family later asked him to “sit properly” for an official photo). I snapped a picture of Walt upside down and thought, “Audrey would have loved that.”

This week’s #HappyAct is to break the chains of adulthood and let your inner child lead this week. Just be messy and explore. You’ll never know what you may learn–or how much fun you’ll have doing it.

Boy hanging upside down on bench

Photos: Main: Marcie Webster, one of the longest-serving employees at the Child Centre in Sharbot Lake in her EarlyON play group room. Above: Walt having fun and exploring upside down on Great Grandma’s bench.

Play area with sign "creativity is messy and we are very creative"
Posted on in family, inspiration, relationships, Uncategorized

What I learned from your Mom

Audrey Tarasick

The world lost a beautiful soul this past week. My friend, Audrey Tarasick passed away at the age of 95.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Audrey and wanted to let her four children know how much she meant to me and how much I learned from her. This is what I wrote. Some of it is tongue-in-cheek, but I think Audrey would have liked that. I hope by sharing it, you may learn from Audrey too.

What I learned from your Mom

Always trust a mother’s instincts and intuition
Never be in a hurry if you don’t have to be
Mushrooms are fun, well fun-gi

The strength of a person’s character is not defined by their size
Or how loudly they speak
But by quiet authority, compassion, and caring

Be true to yourself
Forge your own path in life
Don’t worry about what other people think

Any time is a good time for a skinny dip
Listen to children—you can learn much from them
How to make a perfect pie crust

David Attenborough is hot
Scottish country dancing is not
Fairy gardens are weird

Don’t let others tell you what you are capable of or can or can’t do
Love sometimes doesn’t conquer all
The importance of family

A good cup of coffee or glass of wine can cure most ails
Don’t babysit your grandkids; spend time with them instead
How to know the exact moment to sugar off

A love for the rugged stone-cropped landscape of Eastern Ontario
Always make a wide berth around a goose
The art of the country wave

Take time to bathe in the moonlight
Bask in the sunlight (with a hat and sunscreen)
Lounge by the pool

Never stop laughing
Never stop smiling
Never stop

Live life with grace and kindness
Have no regrets
Love unconditionally

Notes and explanations

  • On Audrey’s pie crust: This is a fib. I actually never learned how to make the ultimate pie crust from Audrey and wish I had spent more time in the kitchen with her so I could have, but I enjoyed many, many of her pies
  • On David Attenborough: For the last four decades or more, Audrey lived on her own. I once asked her if she would ever remarry or what type of man might sweep her off her feet. A devout nature lover, she replied without hesitation “David Attenborough”.
  • A note on “fairy gardens are weird”. Audrey loved fairy gardens. At one point, her sunroom was filled with them. I admired her creativity and love for her whimsical creations but I always found them weird and a bit creepy (but that’s just me)!
  • On the art of the country wave: I lived with Audrey the first summer I moved to Eastern Ontario. She went to great lengths to describe the different types of waves when you live in the country. You can read them in my blog post, “A country mile”
  • If you want to learn Audrey’s technique to tell the exact moment to sugar off when making maple syrup, see “Tap into liquid gold”
  • If you’d like to read more about this remarkable woman, see “Spend time with someone older and wiser”
Audrey in her nephew's hot rod

In her nephew’s hot rod at her 95th birthday bash this summer

Five women standing on a dock

Girls’ weekend at the cottage with three generations

Posted on in family, holidays, relationships, travel

When your children become your friends

Clare and Grace and their Uncle Don at a local brew pub

There is a time every parent dreams about and longs for–the moment when your child becomes your friend.

In the early days, the dream is a distant mirage, obscured by dirty diapers, sippy cups, jolly jumpers and sleepless nights.

As the years go by, the dream becomes more tangible and in focus. Your children learn to walk and talk, and before you know it, you are watching them march their chubby little legs up the four or five steps of the school bus on their first day of school.

Years pass and you see their unique personalities and independent spirit emerge. They spread their wings until one day, in a heart-wrenching gut punch, you realize they don’t need you anymore.

But then something wonderful happens. You become friends.

Friends who enjoy spending time together, sharing confidences and conversation, laughter and tears. A friend who you know will always love you and who will be there for you no matter what.

The best type of friend possible.

It’s a beautiful thing.

Dedicated to my new best friends and lovely but whacky daughters Grace and Clare. Here are some pictures of all of us from this past weekend on a family trip to Cooperstown, New York with their boyfriends and my brother Don.

My daughters at the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown New York

Top: tasting the local wares at Woodland Farm Brewery outside of Utica with their Uncle Don
Above: At the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY

Guy holding plaque that says as far as people know we're just a normal family

Devon holding a plaque that says “Remember as far as anyone knows, we’re a normal family”

Boy and girl on a bridge overlooking a river

Clare and Kaden in Little Falls, New York

Our family at the Baseball Hall of Fame

All of us in front of the Baseball Hall of Fame. We’re already talking about where we’re planning to go next year.

Ed note: For more on Cooperstown, read Ray Dorey’s guest blog, Make a pilgrimage to Cooperstown

Posted on in family, relationships

Roots and Wings

Me and my daughter on the beach in South Carolina

I once read the greatest thing you can do for your children is to give them roots and wings.

Roots where there is…

People who love them unconditionally

A shoulder to cry on

Food in the fridge

A hug to share

Doggies to cuddle with

Respite from the daily stresses of life

A sympathetic ear

…no matter how messy their room is

Wings to…

Venture out on their own

Race down mountains on skis

Swim across lakes

And win face-offs at centre ice

Set their own study and work schedules

Discover what they’re good at

Make their own decisions and mistakes

And tackle the world on their own terms

…even if it means worrying and sleepness nights

To my beautiful girls Grace and Clare, I’m so proud of you. It has been a privilege to watch you find your wings and soar. Know we’ll always be here for you.

Grace and Clare packing hampers for the Salvation Army
Clare at centre ice playing hockey
Grace in the boat with Bentley at sunset
Posted on in family, humour, relationships

Advice on how to train a teenager

two teenage girls

While normally each week on this blog I share a small act of happiness, from time to time I’ve used this platform to ask for advice in my own personal quest for happiness. This week, I ask you dear readers, to share your insights and advice on how to train a teenager.

Yes, both my girls are teenagers now, and as teenagers go, they are great kids. Respectful, hardworking, funny and driven. I love them to bits.

My beefs are small things, like not making a mess on the bathroom counter, putting their dishes in the dishwasher instead of the sink, wasting food, and remembering to do chores like taking out the garbage.

A couple of weeks ago I got the garbage ready in the morning and left it at the door. All my teenager had to do was pick it up, put it in her car, and drop it off at the end of the driveway on the way to work. I reminded her twice the night before and was pleasantly surprised when she grabbed it without needing to be reminded in the morning. It turns out she forgot to stop and put it out at the end of the driveway, took it to work where it sat in her car in 30-degree heat all day, then put it back in the barn when she got home without telling me. A raccoon got into it, and I spent the whole next day cleaning up the stinky mess in the barn.

Now, as a parent, I’d rate my overall performance at a solid 5. I’ve loved my kids, I’ve been there for them as much as possible, but other than that, I’ve barely scraped by. And I’ve definitely had failing marks when it comes to training them to do things like putting their dishes in the dishwasher.

So how do you train a teenager?

I thought of treats, but making them sit and beg for Smarties or Hostess Cupcakes seems a bit degrading.

Punishment seemed a bit harsh for their transgressions and I learned early on taking their devices away is like cutting off an arm. Plus you’re really just punishing yourself since you have to put up with a grumpy bored teenager nagging you all week.

Then a few years ago, I had an evil, wonderful epiphany. I realized if I’m going to punish the little twerps for bad behaviour, I might as well get something I want out of it.

Most of the time, I’ll assign them chores I don’t feel like doing. But last week I hit a new low—I confiscated my daughter’s alcohol. I’ve been enjoying Grace’s delicious Smirnoffs Peach Bellini coolers by the lake. I know I should be ashamed, and have a moment of two of remorse, but then the sun comes out, I have another refreshing sip, and dive in the lake.

Here’s the rub. Whatever I do, it doesn’t make a difference.

I remember when I was pregnant, I listened to one of those parenting tapes. The psychologist shared a story of how he spent years reminding his teenager to take out the garbage until one week, she finally did it on her own. He described it as a success, which I thought was funny given it took years for the kid to finally see it as their responsibility and actually remember to do it.

His message was they’ll eventually grow up, take responsibility and become adults. But in the meantime, my bathroom is a mess and I’m a glorified maid.

So dear readers, tell me and make me happy, how do you train a teenager? Leave a comment!

Posted on in family

Pass down a holiday tradition

Girl walking in snow

We have a holiday tradition that makes people gasp in horror. We open our presents on Christmas night. Not Christmas Eve, Christmas night.

It’s a tradition that stems back to the days when my grandparents owned a greenhouse in the 1930s in Cooksville (now Mississauga) at the corner of Highways 5 and 10, Dundas and Hurontario Streets. Christmas was one of their busiest times of the year, and they would often still be preparing floral orders and making deliveries right up until lunch time on Christmas Day. The only time they could sit down to relax and open gifts was after dinner.

It was a tradition my parents continued when we were young, and a tradition Dave and I have passed on to our children.

I love opening gifts at nighttime, with the fire crackling, the Christmas tree lights shining and a glass of Bailey’s in your hand. You don’t have to worry about jumping up and getting the turkey in the oven or baking pies and it prolongs the anticipation beyond Christmas morning. It also lets us get outside and enjoy the beauty and peace of the day.

I knew the circle was complete when on one of our nightly walks this week, Clare asked, “Mom, can we open presents Christmas night again this year? I really love it.”

My work as a parent is done.

Whatever your traditions or faith, I hope you have a joyous holiday. What’s your favourite holiday tradition? Leave a comment.