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Showing posts from 2016

The Hottest Hire: Moms!

How staying at home to raise my kids lead to  more  work opportunities and the confidence to take them on. It's one of the biggest issues facing new Moms - the question of whether to put off a career in order to stay home raising our babies full-time, or whether to go back to work and focus on advancing our careers while we can. Historically, there's always been this perception that leaving the workforce during our prime earning years will severely hamstring our earning potential and career options later on. It's one of the most intensely difficult decisions women make - and is based on an outdated premise that one cannot start a robust, exciting, fulfilling and high-earning career at any stage in our lives. I remember feeling the intense scrutiny and judgment of working Moms when I opted to be a stay-at-home parent in those early years of my kids lives (I have three boys). There was an underlying assumption that I had chosen cookie baking, daytime television watch

Lipstick and hockey sticks: A girly Mom's guide to faking your way through kids hockey season

It's not easy being a skirt in a home chalk-full of rancid jocks.  But I've managed to get by.  You see, as the lone double X in a chromosomal pool of 4 XYs (5 if I include the dog), my interests in home decor, Fall fashions, beach-wave hair and pedis get buried somewhere underneath a pile of mismatched tube-socks, baseball gloves, goalie pads and Under Armour everything.  Don't get me wrong, I love being active.  I'm a daily exerciser, I enjoy 9-holes of golf and just finished up another summer season on a ladies ball-hockey team - and I literally still have no idea what the rules are (icing to me means confectioners sugar, butter and milk). I do my best at faking my way through "sporty" - just as Brittany Spears fakes her way through "talented" and "singing".  Pretending to love sports gives me a valid excuse to get out of the house for an hour each week to pursue an activity that my kids might actually care to inquire about.  "

Mom's Day: Our one day off and we still end up working

One of my absolute favourite Mother's Day cards can be found on the internet - it shows a woman applying to "Motherhood Inc." and she's reading through the employment contract - "One vacation day a year?!  That's all I get?!" she proclaims.  "We call it Mother's Day but technically you still have to work" says the interviewer.  So true. Every card a Mom gets on Mother's Day preaches the same utopic nonsense - advising Moms to "relax", "kick back", "pamper yourself"...  These cards are typically all written by men.  Have you ever noticed that men have no problem treating themselves to a full day with legs up, beverage in hand and mind empty of thoughts?  They don't even need it to be Father's Day!  It can just be any ol' Wednesday....sadly sometimes, the occasional deadbeat Dad will try and pull this stunt on Mother's Day - not cool.  Men are intrinsically wired to "unwind and chil

Taking the plunge: a mission to embrace dreaded bathing suit season

What would I rather do than wear a bathing suit in public?   I would rather have day-long dental surgery without anesthetic. I would rather have a pap-smear from a swarthy looking male medical student on day 1 of his residency. I would rather clean up stomach-flu from an airport washroom. I think you get the point.  I would rather do anything than expose my white, pasty, thrice-pregnant, veiny, Mom-bod in public, whilst wearing what amounts to a spandex bra and undies.  Ewww.  I just threw-up in my mouth thinking about it.  There's nothing worse for many of us, than bathing suit season.  Thank god I don't live in a tropical country.  In fact, one quick search on Ancestry.com reveals that I descend from a long-line of insufferable female prudes who migrated further and further north over the centuries in search colder climes where head-to-toe apparel was required for at least 10 months of the year.  Don't even get me started on shorts!  Anyway, I digress... My sw

Name changer: My life as Cassie.

38 years ago, my young hopeful parents Louise and Leslie felt confident that their soon-to-be bundle of joy (me) was  going to be a bouncing baby boy!  Oh the joy!  You see, there were already two little girl cousins in the family and the grandparents all had their fingers and toes crossed hoping for their first grandson!!!  The crib was assembled and the name was picked - Casey.  His name would be Casey. And then on August 17th, 1977 at 8:42am, the words "it's a girl!" changed everything...or at least the spelling of my name.  In the moments following the birth of a daughter and not a son, my parents decided to keep the name Casey, but change the spelling to what they thought looked girlier: K-A-S-I-E.  And the rest is just a gong-show of mispronounced misery (for me). Look at my face: "Really?  Kasie?  Nobody can pronounce that Mom!"   To this day, I actually dread handing over my I.D. to people, or seeing people read my name aloud from print.  I c

Dog days: How a floppy pooch got me out of my head, outdoors and into pure sloppy happiness

There are essentially three types of people: dog people, cat people and people who dislike pets (also known as weirdos).  I grew up with dogs, but once living on my own found cat ownership to be best suited to my life and lifestyle.  Cats are kind of like TV people so we share a lot in common: self-absorbed, vain, always grooming, kind of moody and generally seeking attention only to gain something in return...in my case a paycheck, in a cat's case some heavy petting or soft fish-flavoured treats. I never figured myself to be a dog person. Too much responsibility, mess, dirt, slobber, fur, expense, commitment...   My husband grew up in a human-only household so he's never really understood why anyone would be willing to battle -35 winter temps with a dog tethered to one arm whilst toting around a thin plastic sack brimming with mushed dog poop in the other.  Eww.  Yet hundreds of millions of people do it.  So I wondered, why would anyone want to take on all the work that com

Love or hate it - you can't avoid "the big V"

Let's talk Valentine's Day - "the big V". WATCH THE CLIP HERE! My husband detests what he calls the "Hallmark Holidays" - the ones on the calendar who's soul primary purpose is to sell holiday-themed merch.  I would argue that EVERY holiday is driven and propelled by consumerism first with sentimentality trailing in a far second.  Rather than be a fuddy-duddy about it, you might as well just embrace it, in your own way and join in on the fun.  Valentine's Day means something different depending on your stage of life. As a kid, Valentine's Day meant waking up to a fun plush toy and some treats awaiting my brother and I at the breakfast table.  It also meant, distributing those cheesy little perforated cards to all classmates.  Even that one kid, Jean-Pierre*, who purportedly ate a dead bird's eye at recess got to relish in the joy of feeling accepted by peers. As a teen, Valentine's Day turned from sweet to sour.  The Student Counc

Putting the "Mean" in Meaningful: A Mean Mom's guide to bliss

Parenting has its rewards.  That first coo, first smile, when they first say "mama", that crude crayon drawing of a stick figure Mom and a stick figure kid without torsos holding hands, their first goal, watching them become well-mannered young adults, being a good friend, the list goes on and on. Being called "mean" is also pretty high up on my list of rewards.  Seriously - it is! When I say "no" to my three boys, often times it's because there's a hard lesson to be learned, usually one about delayed gratification, earning rather than expecting something, needs versus wants, responsibility, etc...  If I had a nickel for every time I said "no" in response to "can you buy me...", I'd be rich enough to buy them whatever they wanted - except I wouldn't.  Hence the "Mean-Mom" moniker. I'm cool with being mean.  Some Moms crack under the guilt of feeling like their kids are angry or disappointed with them -