There’s a lot I miss about the innocence of my youth. I miss it for myself and I miss it for the sake of my children. It makes me sad that they will never quite understand the wonder of Jem, teased bangs and neon t-shirts, video stores on a Friday night. All that makes me nostalgic and long for those years that seem so distant past.
Mario Batali and the Food Bank for New York City recently launched the Food Stamp Challenge, in which participants limit their food budget to just $29 per person for the entire week. This challenge is an effort to raise awareness about the struggles to stay healthy on a limited budget and to showcase that low income families need more support than they are currently offered.
But when I became pregnant, I was still relatively new to my city. There were no other parents in my local set of friends and I had no family close by. I was entering this new journey on my own.
I had to find my village after having my first child.
It was nothing more than a childish insult but brings with it a realization that the world isn’t always so easy.
My husband and I were ordering food at the counter of a busy restaurant. My two daughters were waiting at the table, enjoying the crayons and colouring books we had brought along.
I was just about to head to the table when my oldest daughter came running up to me. “Mommy, those girls said I had poo skin.” She pointed to a group of girls seated a few feet away with their parents.
You’re probably going to experience a twinge of jealousy when you hear what I have to say next: my mother-in-law was able to watch my oldest daughter until she started preschool and my two year-old daughter until just recently.
In fact, we have our bedtime routine down pat and I have a hard time sleeping if we deviate from it. Basically, I’m admitting I have a hard time falling asleep without my husband. But lately, I’ve been hearing a lot of people choose not to sleep in the same bed as their spouse.
I want to talk about the Jian Ghomeshi scandal, but without talking about Jian Ghomeshi. Unless you live under a rock, you’ve heard about it. And it’s beyond horrible and scary and sad.
But it didn’t really affect me until a few days ago.
What made it feel truly and completely real to me was when Reva Seth came out with her startling allegations.
You see, Reva Seth is South Asian (by her own account). And what I know about South Asian women is, we don’t typically talk about dating and men.
We’re back to the grind now that school is back in session. Now that the shininess and newness of the school year is starting to lose its sheen, it’s time to get real and deal with the facts.
Fact: I have a school-aged child. With hair. Hair that is prone to get tangles and get in her face, her food, her mouth and just get in her way.
There is an article floating around. You might have heard of it. It tells the tale of a white man who created the character of a powerful black woman for an upcoming TV show, How To Get Away With Murder. Except that’s not what the article really says at all.
The article actually tells the tale of racism and idiocy and how the two go hand in hand.
Parents are funny creatures. We spend our days making sure our children are happy and content. But when it comes to ourselves, though?
Ha! Who has time for that?!
YOU!
You have time for that.
Trust me, you really do.
You need to.
Because you owe it to yourself and your children to be happy. And it’s not really so hard. It doesn’t have to take a long time or be odious or cost a lot.
I like myself best with makeup on and hair done. And it worries me more than just a little.
Truth be told, I never thought about it before. I never gave it a second thought, because it was just another thing I did and didn't have to think about.
That's who I was.
I was the sort who never wore flats, never left her house without makeup on, and definitely always did her hair. A ponytail? Oh my, not I!
I enjoyed getting dressed up and putting on my face.
Have you ever had one of those days? One of those nights?
Dear Lord, those nights.
You’ve been up all night with a teething and crying baby. Cleaning vomit from the carpet and sheets for the umpteenth time. Soothing a feverish child until the light of dawn.
Before you know it, it’s morning. And you’re pretty certain your head never even hit the pillow.
It might have, but you just have no recollection of it at all.
It seems that Donald Sterling thinks that his girlfriend looks bad posing with black people.
Actually, Donald, what really makes her look bad is sleeping with you.
Or, I mean, business associating with you (wink, wink).
I think it’s pretty clear that Donald Sterling is a problem that needs to be resolved. Hopefully, he goes far away and we don’t have to hear about him again.
So, yes, he’s a problem, but, unfortunately, he’s not the problem.
It’s as though I’ve disappeared into motherhood and wife-ness. I’ve disappeared into this wonderful family and life that we’ve created for ourselves.
I’m not complaining. Not really.
I love my life, but sometimes, I miss myself.
Along the way, I seem to have lost a bit of who I am.
I’m spending a little less time getting ready, a little less time meeting friends, a little less time reading those favourite books, a little LOT less time working out.