I've had a hell of a time coming up with a clever introduction for this article. I’ve struggled to write something witty, informative and catchy. But the words will not materialize. So instead, I’m just going to cut to the chase…

If you want your kids to be successful in life, send them to art school.

Yes, you read that right. And it’s not for the reasons you might think.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Making your own finger paint is easier than getting in the car, driving to the craft store, walking up and down the aisles, asking Cranky Customer Service Pam for help, deciphering ingredient lists to determine toxicity, and driving home empty handed (except for maybe some glitter).

True story.

If there’s one thing all mothers need, it’s a place to stash their stuff including (but not limited to) rings, necklaces and treasures presented to them by their children.

Last week, our area experienced high winds resulting in a massive storm surge.

The ocean made its way well onto the shore and brought with it a fair amount of flotsam and jetsam. At the end of our pathway, seaweed and driftwood were tangled together with dead crabs, and plastic bottles. The mangled debris – both natural and manufactured - was enough to prompt a conversation about habitats with my seven-year-old daughter.

“Don’t let her touch anything!”

The words fell out of my mouth as I nervously watched my husband walk through the Emergency Room doors out into the hospital proper, hand in hand with our two year-old daughter. She was getting restless and he thought a wander might be in order.

I'm not what one would call skilled when it comes to sewing, but I do love colourful fabric - which is easy to see when you sneak a peek at the stash in my house.

Still, I've always loved the concept of crafting items out of cotton, linen and polyester. And so, when my daughter started talking about buying some bean bags after having played a game of bean bag toss at a friend's house, I took it as an opportunity to sit down with her, fly by the seat of my pants and co-create a few sacks full of legumes.

I was over for coffee at my friend’s house on the weekend when another friend dropped in. And because all three of us have kids under seven, the discussion quickly turned to the merits of baking soda.

“It’ll take that craft paint right off your window.”

“It worked wonders on the bathtub after pink dye leaked out of a piece of fun foam.”

“Baking soda is great, but it has nothing on vinegar.”

Do you decorate for Easter? I don’t. Unless foil candy wrappers intermingling with piles of Easter grass scattered effortlessly across the floor can be considered decorating in which case yes, that was my house you saw in that issue of Better Homes and Gardens at the doctor's office.

But this year, I decided to kick my house fluffing up a notch.

With toilet paper rolls.

When I was my daughter’s age, I looked forward to visiting to the Alcona Beach hardware store with my mom. It was the biggest thing going in the rural area where we lived and it was located right next to a tiny restaurant offering giant servings of lemon meringue pie.

When I was a kid, we lived at the end of a very long road in the country. Not so far out that we required a guide, but deep enough in that some relatives were afraid to visit.

Although we lived a good distance away from any city or town, we were by no means the only family in the outskirts. Granted, most were cottagers who made only brief appearances once a year, but there were also few permanent residents living amongst the wildlife.

However, they were nothing like us.

Seven-year-old Alia lives in San Francisco, and like a lot of kids her age, she loves rainbows.

Last December, Alia - inspired by the Monteiro Family’s Word Rocks Project - decided to scatter rocks painted with colourful rainbows and embellished with cheerful messages, all around her neighbourhood.

The hour-long drive home from the hospital where my daughter was born was fraught with danger.

First, there was my perineum (if you have to ask, you just don’t get it). Then, there was the night sky, which meant that for the first time since her birth, I was unable to keep constant watch over my infant. The bumpy road and unfamiliar sounds and smells led to the overwhelming realization that I was in need of another painkiller and had exactly zero experience keeping a miniature human being alive.

It’s winter in Canada. It’s snowing outside. You’re cold. The kids are restless. And at this moment, the only thing carrying you through the day is the thought of Valentine’s Day candy.

Just me?

Excluding chocolate chews and cinnamon sweets, nothing says Valentine’s Day like windows plastered with paper hearts. I still remember loving the bright red and pink shapes that decorated the glass in my elementary school classroom.

Years ago I had a gig as a music journalist and during that time spent many hours in hotel rooms, restaurants and bars talking with musicians - from unknown indie shoe-gazers to celebrated Grammy award-winners.

In the process, I posed a lot of questions to a lot of artists, but of all the queries I pulled out of my back pocket, this was by far my favourite:

“Where do you think creativity comes from?”

At our house, you won’t find family photos hanging on the walls. But you will find art. Lots and lots of art.

And although we (my husband, my mom, my kiddo and I) all make art on a regular basis, we rarely collaborate on pieces.

Until now.

There’s something special about gifts made by kids, especially when those gifts are functional. Containers make perfect presents because they can hold so many different things - from art supplies and kitchen utensils, to bike tools and cut flowers.

Here are five ways your kids can turn everyday items into useful keepsakes for teachers, family and friends.

I’m five years-old and I’m in a small a town in northeastern Netherlands, visiting family with my parents.

There was a time when a few pretty baskets and a couple of coffee cans were enough to contain my kid's craft supplies.

That was then.

Now, I’ve become an unwilling expert in a new, bewildering math process known as multipladdition. It works like this. If x is the child’s age, and y is said child’s genetic tendency to add glue to all the things, then the answer is four hundred and eleventy billion craft supplies in my office.

This is not an exaggeration. It’s just how math works.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row...

I still remember the first time I heard someone recite In Flanders Fields.

If you've prepped pumpkins with little ones for Halloween, you'll know how much fun it can be.

However, once the seeds have been scooped, the danger dance begins...

Sure, you can hand out helpful Jack-o-Lantern safety tips all you want, but ultimately advice such as: "don't touch the knife," "let mommy do that," and "for the love of god, back away from the pumpkin!" typically fall on deaf ears if your kid is keen on "helping" you stab the living crap out of the gutted gourd on the kitchen table.