The House that my Dad built for my Mom

In 2015, my Dad turned 65 and decided to build a house for my Mom ... from scratch! It was the most opposite thing to downsizing! It perplexed a few people, and it vexed one!

It is cool when a man expresses his adoration for a woman with simple statements. That’s when you know he means it. I remember my Dad saying that my Mom was the cutest girl on his street … that was believable! Growing up, I never questioned his love for her. He still calls her his darling. He would do anything for her.

When we moved to Toronto in 1992, we initially met a bunch of people from the Motherland. One of them was always converting Canadian currency to the Motherland’s currency and calling himself a millionaire in that country. It made absolutely no sense. Anyways, My Mom might have said in passing that it would be nice to live in a million-dollar home.

So, my Dad decided to make it a reality. He went and bought a million-dollar house and gifted it to his beloved. In Toronto, such a house is a tiny nothingness, especially in the Yonge and Sheppard neighbourhood. The lady didn’t know what to make of it. And then, she was told that it was going to be demolished and he was going to build her a home and handed her some blueprints. She thought he had gone mental!

My Mom did not want the big house. However, she ended up spending hours and hours on this thing she didn’t know that she really wanted. And she dreaded the hours and hours of labour it would require from her to maintain it once it was completed. I think she had this love-hate feelings for it. The house was ready for move-in in February 2017. My Mom did not appreciate it until March 2020 … when the whole world seemed to shut down and people were afraid to breathe, my Mom loved all the space she had to move around and breathe without fear. Finally, she appreciated her home and genuinely thanked her husband for the gift.

We all fondly call this family home 190.

Over the last few years, a beautiful walk-out basement unit has been added and rented out a few times. My Dad followed all zoning bylaws and made sure it is a safe space. In July 2026, Hans and I are moving into this lovely abode. I was there last weekend and took a few pics. I sent the pic of the kitchen to KPF as I recently cooked with him in Ottawa. The kitchen with its nine-foot ceiling also made me think of him as he is tall and he would be able to reach anything in that kitchen while I would probably be reaching out for step stools and ladders! Anyways, before I digress, KPF wanted to know if the kitchen was renovated … for me?! I could have just said “no” and kept it simple.

… But I felt like I needed to write another post about my Dad. The last one was a long time ago. I need to write more.

When Worlds Collide …

I am back from another whirlwind trip to Ottawa, but this time around I was there for about 2 days and 2 hours. That’s double the amount of my usual time, but I was visiting with double the number of friends.

This was a bit of a stressful trip as I decided to cook for my friends, KPF and Manda, in a kitchen that was new to me. I am not going to write about how good or bad my cooking was, but I had a wonderful time with my friends. Although ASid and Hans weren’t there, Manda’s 2 boys more than made up for their absence. They joined us at the dinner table and shared their vacation stories with KPF who turns out had travelled to some of the very same countries they had been to! So, there was a lot of cool conversation around some European countries. And since I haven’t been to any of those, it was a lot of learning for me.

I wasn’t too thrilled with my eggplant and salmon dishes, but I was okay with my spinach/lentil soup. KPF saved the day by bringing 2 delicious desserts from The French Baker. He also brought some chocolates for the boys. He remembered!

KPF and Manda know about this blog and read occasionally when I send them links to posts they are featured in; however, they met for the first time ever on the 19^th and they hit it off. I was relieved. I knew I was killing 2 birds with 1 stone, but I didn’t want my friends to figuratively die from being forced to share space. Fortunately, for me, we all survived. We spent 5 hours together. I found out that KPF is an excellent sous chef. He has crazy knife skills. He was also good at flipping stuff. Manda found out her boys can sit down for a meal with a stranger and have a cordial conversation. She raised them well. The boys were also polite enough to eat the eggplant and salmon dishes without protesting. (Before I left yesterday, I made them a chicken dish to make up for dinner.)

My takeaway, again, was that I have the most amazing friends who show up for me and who are amazingly accommodating. What more do I need?

A Side Story: Part3/Continuation

I hadn’t seen Neil since December. When I communicated with him about my recent resignation, he was concerned and wanted to get together and catch up. He thought I walked out on my job. I had to clarify that I have my job until the end of this school year, but I am not going back next school year. I would eventually need to find another placement, but that’s not an immediate concern!

So, we had lunch today. As we exchanged pleasantries, I asked him about his life. He shared that he is dating and he has been very upfront about it being casual and not serious. He wondered if I was doing the same. I told him that I have been hanging out with friends both male and female but not dating in a true sense. Then, we talked about our plans for March Break. Neil is off to Montreal, and I am off to Ottawa. Neil wanted to know if I was visiting KPF. I told him that this time around I am spending time with Manda who is housesitting for her sister and KPF is dropping by for dinner on one of the 2 nights I am there.

Neil wondered why KPF and I are not together. I honestly told him that if it was 1998, maybe that would have been a possibility; however, it didn’t happen then and so, I don’t see it happening now.

What I learned recently from various conversations is that I have been in love with the idea of love. And that’s tough. Everything sounds great in my head, but it is not real. And that’s scary. To truly be in love with someone, it is important to know who I am and what I want and start living outside my head. That’s going to take time. And I am happy to wait. 

I have been fortunate to be surrounded by friends who are my age and going through their own respective transitions and finding their way around relationships. It is wonderful to know that I am not alone. At the same time, it is okay to have this alone time.

My Favourite Single Mom

Alright, I still have a little rant left in me! I just had a phone conversation with my friend Manda, and I had to remind her that she is an exceptional single mom!

Manda has 2 boys like me. They are 16 and 14. The younger one is dating. Today was his 4th date with the same girl and apparently, he was told by the girl’s friends that she was expecting a kiss. When he shared that with his mother Manda, she started overthinking it. She felt that if the boys’ dad has been around, they would know how to be affectionate with a girl!

That got me sad initially and then it got me mad!

Boys don’t need their dads to be around if they are not going to be decent dads. Manda walked out of her home, with the boys, in March/April of 2020. It has been almost 6 years, and their dad hasn’t tried to see them. Yet they are in a custody battle for the boys. It makes no sense then that Manda would say something like having their dad in their lives would make them somehow “better boys”!

That’s why we have movies. Watch ‘Roman Holiday’ and see Gregory Peck be a gentleman - watch him love a woman and let her go. Loving a woman is about letting her *be*.

Alright, I am digressing a little bit. The boy is only 14, and he will kiss the girl when he is ready. The absence of his father is not the reason. I had to remind Manda that the boys have her father! Manda’s dad took care of his mother until she passed away a few years ago; he adores his wife, and he helps Manda with the boys. If the boys need a role model, their maternal grandfather is 2 doors away!

I also needed to remind Manda that she worked 3 jobs so she could give the boys wonderful summer breaks. I have often called her “the mother of all mothers”. I have never seen a mother be so involved in her children’s lives. I told her that I had to be a stay-at-home mother to give that kind of time and attention to my children. Work would have taken me away from them. I can only do one thing well at a time. But I admire the mothers who work and take care of their kids and do it all on their own. These are exceptional women. They need to know that. 

Now, I can truly spring forward.

Single Moms

I have had a rough 2 weeks, and I haven’t ranted in a while. And as we get ready to spring forward, I feel like I need to purge and start anew.

So, I handed in my resignation letter for my current job. It was that or put up with incompetence for another school year! It was hard as I do not like to leave a job unfinished. Also, it *is* hard to leave my work kids; however, one day, we have to part ways anyway!

Although that was rough, the toughest part was helping my new student transition. And to make it more challenging, it was hypothesized that this student, the child of a single mom, who is a boy, would benefit from a male role model. This got Michael all excited. This was his glorious moment to be a saviour of sorts. He decided to stick to this child like his life depended on it. I let him test the hypothesis. Then, on the 7th day, this child decided to kick and punch Michael a couple of times.

As a classroom teacher, I let Michael lead and I realized that he had no plan. He was smothering the child and getting frustrated with the child and there was no progress being made. So, I suggested that he step back a bit and give the child some space. I also decided to step in and give Michael a break. At the end of the 8th day, I also realized that Michael needed some constructive feedback.

On the 9th day morning, as I proceeded to provide Michael with some suggestions, he got defensive and then, offensive. He used a term like “microaggression”, and he declared that my words and actions gave him that feeling! What the heck?! He used the term totally inappropriately. Fortunately, our POR walked in and almost left as she could sense the tension. I drew her in and asked her for some suggestions to help our new student. While she listed some, I hope Michael realized he did none of that. He simply fulfilled the role of a bodyguard (an inept one at that as the boy ran away a few times) and nothing more!

There were no incidents on the last 2 days with the child. He did not hit or kick or punch anyone. I called his mother to let her know that her child ended the week on a wonderful note. She was relieved to hear that, and I wished her a happy weekend.

All of this got me thinking and it annoyed me that the school team thought the females in the boy’s life weren’t enough. It was a disservice to all single moms. It was disrespectful to this single mom who has 3 children and is doing her best. They kept insinuating that the boy was acting up at school because things were perhaps not so good at home. No wonder the mom wanted to pull her child out. And it annoyed me when in a meeting, the mom accepted what everyone told her … that her boy needed a man to be a better boy.

I want to say so much; however, all I will say is that some single moms have raised some beautiful boys. Please don’t take that away from them!

Kicking and Screaming

I did not hear about ‘If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You’ until Rose Byrne won a Golden Globe for her role. Since then, I had wanted to watch the movie and I finally did today. It was available for free on Prime.

The movie was so real to me. I work with children with special needs. I communicate with parents of children with special needs. Their lives are exceptionally challenging and they are incredibly inspiring. I wonder how they do it. That’s why I love my job. Each day, I realize how fortunate I am to have the life I have. And yet, at the beginning of last week, I did not feel so fortunate.

On Monday, a student was moved from his classroom, the other ISP classroom, to my classroom. Obviously, he was not quite ready to move out of a classroom that was his for 2 and a half academic years. It was an unexpected reorg, for both staff and students alike, with just a week and 4 months left in the school year. But parents are powerful and when they advocate for their children, the powers that be bend over backwards to accommodate the parents. This parent that I mentioned a couple of posts ago is beyond upset.

Friday, I received a response to my daily email from this “new” parent. She said thanks and shared that she had felt like she was doing something wrong at home for her child to be behaving badly at school. As things escalated, she felt the need to pull her child out of school. She felt helpless.

After I watched the movie, I had a better sense of this parent’s life. The movie entirely focussed on the daily life of a mother with a child with special needs. Prior to watching the movie, I could only imagine and sympathize. Now, I got to *see* it. And in the movie, the mother is quite privileged, and yet she is drowning. In real life, some parents are underprivileged and labour with no proper supports in place.

The teacher in the other ISP classroom has a child with special needs. So, 24/7, she is surrounded by children with special needs. In some ways, it makes her empathetic to the parents’ plight. In other ways, it also makes her less sympathetic. And this is just my opinion. I feel like there is this feeling that if I can, why can’t you? However, privilege plays a pivotal role. If parents are informed and have access to services and supports, their children tend to do better in the system. When parents are overwhelmed with their personal situations, and are unaware of options, their children struggle, and in turn, they struggle.

Tomorrow, I am in a meeting with this parent, the former teacher, admin and other personnel. The teacher feels like I will be perceived as the good teacher. Although I have already confessed to my hubris, I don’t believe that. I am just an option. And if I don’t make any difference whatsoever, the parent will seek out other options. 

Meanwhile, I am happy that she is kicking and screaming to have doors open for her child and have her voice heard. I want a win for this mother.

Charitable Deeds

My brother calls me "big sis Momley" and the way he says that in the language we share/speak sounds like the word "charity" in another language. It was cool when one of his friends pointed that out many moons ago.

Yesterday, I remembered that and shared it with my friend Manda.

Manda has been going through a terrible time in her life. I saw a missed call from her and a note that asked if I wanted coffee. Before I could respond, she called a second time and when I answered, she asked me the same question. I was like I am not sure. Then, she said that she was on her way and we were going out for coffee and fries, my favourite combo! I put the phone down and got ready for pick-up right away.

Manda was already in the driveway and waiting when I got out of my building. She said that for all the times I had been a good friend, she wanted to do something charitable for me, so she can have something good happen to her the next day. Manda was going to find out if it was the end of her terrible time the next day. To seal the deal, she remembered something from a holy book. And that was her plan!

As my handful of on-and-off readers know, I do not reveal any cultural, ethnic, racial or religious backgrounds of anyone I write about here. So, I am not going to do it now. All I will disclose is that Manda and I are alike as in we are born into our parents' respective religions, but we are not bound by them. However, both of us believe in the power of good deeds and prayers of our elders.

So, it was not entirely a surprise to me that she decided to treat me, whether I wanted it or not, and I was happy to indulge her. I chose to have a hot fudge sundae at MC D's and was shocked that Manda had never had one! So, we got 2 spoons and it was like we were in the movies - 2 girlfriends and a container of ice cream - a trope for eating woes away!

Anyways, Manda felt like that was too little charity and needed to do more. I let her buy a small burrito at Fat B for Hans as they sell them for $6.99 on Wednesdays. The boy already ate his dinner and that was his lunch for the next day. Manda wasn't convinced she did enough, and so we went to Longo's to buy more stuff.

When Manda came to pick me up, she looked tired and I could sense the stress she was feeling. When she dropped me off, she was smiling. Recently, I have gotten into the habit of letting my friends know that I love them. So, that’s what I told Manda and wished her all the best.

I am not sure how today was for Manda. Even if the outcome was an unhappy one, I know she will be okay.

Some other kid’s Mother

Last Friday, I wrote these famous last words, in a text message, to IB: “I guess I have the rare 100% approval rating … for now.”

I am glad I was realistic and humble even when I was floating on a cloud. I know I only have 5 students, but I also have parents who are very particular and who expect the best for their children. So, it felt good when all 5 of the parent-teacher meetings were positive, especially MyLO’s!

Yesterday, I was informed that a student is being moved from the other ISP classroom to mine! The other teacher took it personally for a couple of hours. The single mother of this child is very unhappy and wished for another placement. After much discussion and consideration, the powers that be decided to move this child to my classroom. Why me? That’s the 1^st question that always pops up in my head in challenging situations like these. Then, I come up with all the reasons why it is me and I convince myself that perhaps I am meant to help whoever it is that needs my help at that point in time. Sometimes the hubris is such that I believe I am the only one who can help!

Last night, I didn’t sleep so well. This morning, I was at work and moved around stuff in my classroom to make room for this child. My biggest concern is obviously MyLO - she is weary of the students from the other classroom. However, this move may not sit well with the other student as well. And I have a meeting with the mother tomorrow!

My life is like a suspense thriller, and this is just my professional life I am talking about!

MyLO's Mother

I have written so much about my littlest one that I am giving her a name. She will now be known as MyLO.

Friday, when I went back to work and shared that I was there late the night before and that I got a ride home from MyLO’s mother, I had different reactions. I will share 3 of them here:

My POR: “Why would you spend over an hour with this parent? What were you thinking?”

My teacher-therapist friend: “So now she knows where you live?”

My principal: “I checked before I left. I saw you talking with her and I was like ‘she got this’, and I went home.”

As already mentioned, I was okay with how it all worked out. So, I was glad to hear that my principal had that kind of confidence in me. And I don’t believe I am in any danger just because a parent knows where I live. In fact, when MyLO found out I live in an apartment building, she felt bad for me and declared that she would buy me the biggest house one day.

I shared with MyLO’s mother that her daughter frequently says “I hate you” to me. (I did not share that my own children have never said that to me!) The mother confided that she is also at the receiving end of “I hate you”, and she made it sound like we are in an exclusive club for 2. I bought that!

Some parents of children with special needs can come across as annoying sometimes because they are so demanding. However, they are simply advocating for their children and if you genuinely care for their children, and work with them as partners in their children’s learning, they are willing to give you, their time. It was just not me that stayed late that night, MyLO’s mother did too!

In a wonderful coincidence, I just watched a 41-year-old mother of 2 kids with special needs, Elana Meyers Taylor, win Women’s Monobob gold. This is her 5^th Olympics and 1^st GOLD. This woman is an inspiration. I feel like I can never ever complain about my life!

The things I remember on some days!

The actor who played the titular character on Dawson’s Creek passed away recently. It made me very sad as I remembered how Smoggie and I loved that show. The show started airing in 1998 and that was the same year, Smoggie and I met and became friends. It was cool when we found out that we both watched and loved Dawson’s Creek. This recent news made me go back in time and revisit some of my moments with Smoggie.

From all the moments I remember, I am choosing to write about one of the two fights Smoggie and I ever had. Sometimes, such moments define or destroy relationships.

Smoggie is cordial with most people and cares about very few people. He is very particular. However, I have rarely seen him not like people, but there was one such person whom he didn’t give a fig about! Unfortunately, we all worked together, and we had to share a room. Since we were all technical trainers/facilitators at an IT school, we had devices on our desks and that meant we could discreetly communicate through network messages. One fine day in 1999, Smoggie sent a message stating that he was planning for us to go watch A Midsummer Night's Dream starring Calista Flockhart on a Friday. That was a perfect plan as Smoggie knew how much I enjoyed Shakespeare and how much I adored Ally McBeal - it was 2 of my favourite things coming together! I couldn’t contain my delight and turned from the computer screen to look in Smoggie’s direction and declare that I was happy to watch the movie that Friday and that I was very excited about it. As soon as those words escaped my lips, this other guy turned around in his chair and asked if he could join us?!

My eyes darted from Smoggie’s face to this guy’s face not knowing what to say! Smoggie’s face was sternly requesting me to say NO and this guy’s was begging me to say YES. Since I have always struggled to say no, I ended up asking the guy to join us. That was it. I immediately received a message from my friend telling me to forget about him if this guy comes along. I was like “come on!”. I couldn’t possibly uninvite the guy. Long story short, I ended up going to the movie with this guy, and Smoggie decided to take a break from me!

We didn’t speak to each other for a couple of days. It was the worst time. (We were both 24-25 at that time, but we could have been 4 or 5!) Then, one fine day, I found my desk converted into a shrine for Ricky Martin. That was it. I walked over to Smoggie’s desk and let him know how sorry I was and how miserable I was. And all was forgiven. We never wanted to go through such hellish time again.

Why would I write about a fight on Valentine’s Day? Because it doesn’t feel that bad anymore. It was a tiny moment in time that Smoggie and I were able to put behind us as our friendship meant more than the feelings of betrayal and disappointment we experienced for a bit. I am glad we saved *us*.

James Van Der Beek’s death reminded me, once again, that life is short. I must take the time to appreciate the people in my life. Smoggie is quintessential to my existence. He has been at the receiving end of all my dramatic outbursts. Smoggie has a landline and I’d like to believe it is there for me and me alone. I can call it anytime. It has been there even when Smoggie wasn’t in the country. I have left many messages on it. Wherever Smoggie is, he retrieves those messages and responds. Now, why would I not have his mobile number and WhatsApp him or whatever him?! I don’t know. This “snail mail” sort of system seems to work nicely for us.

There are days I need to remember how loved I am and how fortunate I am. Today is one of those days.

I just got back from a 13^th birthday party of my favourite twins born on Valentine’s Day. I was the only adult invited. I am their beloved aunty. I spent almost 3 hours with a bunch of preteens and newly minted teens. I am glad I attended the event. Kids need to know they are loved. The twins have my number, and they know they can call me anytime and I will get back to them.

I have always believed that the greatest joy is in being needed. I hope Smoggie feels that way when he receives my messages!

I hope everyone has had a LOVE-ly day. Take care.

I am okay!

This morning, my Uber driver suddenly braked and almost all the chocolate boxes I had in my bag fell unto the car floor.

The first words that came out of my mouth were "it's okay" and I kept repeating them as the driver, a young woman, kept apologizing.

As long as everyone is safe and no one is in imminent danger, it is okay! I guess part of that comes from being a Spec Ed teacher.

I was almost tempted to give one of the chocolate boxes to the Uber driver; however, I had a precise purpose for each of them. I had Parent-Teacher conferences today, and I was going to give the chocolate boxes to my work kids’ parents.

I was in a mostly good mood today. I was finally okay with Michael too. My only concern was the one disgruntled parent I spoke about in a recent post. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go with her. This parent had the 6:15-6:45 timeslot. She was my last conference. Michael had to leave at 6:30 pm. It was time for him to go, and the parent hadn’t shown up yet. He had tickets to a concert. Right after he left, I went to inform my principal that the parent maybe a no-show.

I had that feeling as the report card and IEP I sent home yesterday, in an envelope, came back this morning unopened. I immediately felt the need to reach out to this parent wondering if all was well. To be fair, she responded immediately saying that she would go through the paperwork when her child got home and she would be ready for the conference. So, the feeling of unease returned when she was 15 minutes late to a scheduled half-hour meeting. As I spoke with my principal, we saw this parent on the security cam in the office. We both welcomed her. I was relieved to see her!

When we got to the classroom, it was 6:45 pm. When the meeting ended, it was almost 8 pm. Everyone had left the school building except for the evening caretaker. This parent wondered how I was going to get home as I walked her to the entrance door. I told her that I would take an Uber home. She wondered where I lived and she offered a ride. Initially, I was hesitant and declined politely. She insisted it wasn’t a big deal and then, I said okay. We walked back to the classroom to grab my stuff. That was when I realized I hadn’t given her a box of chocolates. She was pleasantly surprised as I wished her a happy Family Day long weekend. After that, this parent went out of her way to drop me home.

The last time we “met” was in an online meeting with a bunch of people. Today, it was just the 2 of us, and in person. We were able to communicate without interference. I was able to show what I was doing for her child. She acknowledged that I was the person her child spends the most time with outside of their family. She appreciated all that I was doing for her child. 

At the end of the day, it was good to know that all my kids and their parents were okay! That means, I am okay!

My (Last) BlackBerry

I have had my current BlackBerry since 2018. It was the last model to be released, and I guess it was truly meant for me as it was released on July 13^th of that year. (Alright alright alright, it was a happy coincidence; and I am forever grateful.)

Over the last couple of years, several apps quit my device. I was sad at the departure of CIBC (my bank) and Capital One (my credit card). I was okay with McD leaving although I missed the points. Yesterday, at the end of the day, I realized that Uber Eats needed an update and I couldn’t do it as the app isn’t compatible with my device anymore. I am willing to live with this loss as well. However, fear set in when I realized the Uber app would be the next to go. If that happens, I would be forced to switch to a new phone out of sheer necessity.

I take an Uber to work each morning. I can’t really afford to do it, but I do it for good reasons and I don’t particularly care about the cost. So, I can’t afford to not have the Uber app on my phone. However, this is a likely possibility, and it has made me so very sad today.

I am not sure when this terrifying moment will occur, but I can’t just sit and wait for it to happen. So, I need a backup plan. Lucky for me that I am watching the Winter Olympics right now. It is like a sign … the phone that keeps popping up is Google Pixel 10.

2026 is a year of many transitions. Hans will be 18 in May and will be off to university in September. We are moving in July. I am also hoping to transfer from my current job/location to another, so I do not spend so much money on Uber! 

Lots of changes coming up. I guess one more should not be such a big deal.

Hanging out with my son’s girlfriend!

Almost 9 years ago, I wrote a post about love. Today feels like the perfect day to revisit it.

It is Winterlicious and it was a wonderful opportunity to try a *new* restaurant as well as hang out with Amie, ASid’s girlfriend. We had delicious food and insightful conversations. Amie remarked how a friend was surprised that she was having dinner with her boyfriend’s mom. I told her that my colleagues had similar reactions. I guess there is still that stereotypical view on the relationship between the 2 most important women in a man’s life. Amie is not officially my daughter-in-law, but the kids moved in together over the Thanksgiving weekend. At that time, Hans wondered if that was as good as a marriage and I told him that it was! Why not?!

Amie called me a ‘chill’ person. She shared that she likes how close ASid and I are, and how we can talk about anything. I told her that she is also a ‘chill’ person. I told her that any mother would love a girl who makes her son happy. The only obstacle to that is if the mother’s love for her son is possessive which then leads to feelings of jealousy and resentment for any other person her son ends up loving! Obviously, this applies to any relationship between two people. On that note, Amie could totally resent me; but she does not. That speaks volumes about the person she is.

15-year-old ASid did not know then that he had already met the special girl who will make him a happy man in the future. He did not like Valentine’s Day then. Now, he has plans with Amie. I am so happy for the two of them.

Mental Conditions

Yesterday, Friday, I spent some time with ASid and Amie (yes, I am calling his girlfriend that!). While chatting with them, I casually shared a proverb I learnt from my Mother. It roughly translates to “each of us has a mental condition that makes us happy”.

The proverb came up when I asked Amie about her parents and how they feel about ASid and her moving into a place of their own. She said that she has invited them over several times since October and they haven’t dropped by yet. She also said that her parents don’t want to intrude on her “roommate”! So, I told her that that is the “mental condition” that keeps them happy … not acknowledging the reality of their daughter’s live-in situation.

I guess we can call it a coping mechanism. Some could use some “-ist” words. ASid is biracial and Amie is close to one of the races he represents, but not exactly. Some parents still want their children to be with people who share their own cultural, racial and/or religious backgrounds. There is nothing wrong with that if they support their children’s choices.

Yesterday, I also had an intense phone call with a parent. Michael was on that call with me. For the first time ever, the two of us were in consensus about something … that this parent is completely unreasonable. She continues to be upset about my refusal for the extra CYW from October. Initially, she suggested that her child needed one-on-one support to manage her behaviour. Now, she believes that her child needs academic support as she has fallen behind. Her child was placed with me last school year as she wreaked havoc in her “regular” classroom, and it was suggested that she would thrive in an Intensive Support Program (ISP). This child, whom I call my littlest one, was a force to reckon with. Almost all our efforts went into managing behaviour. She has come a long way since then.

What the parent didn’t seem to understand was that her child came to us with huge deficits in her learning, and that can’t be fixed with extra support for just 6-8 weeks. If it is up to the parent, she would have her child on one-on-one support for the rest of her life!

As a parent myself, I understand some of these mental conditions. Most parents are the best advocates for their children. They also want to protect their children from all the evil in the world. But it helps to see the progress that is being made and acknowledge the efforts of others that make a difference in their children’s lives.

Kids at Work

This post is totally dedicated to my work kids. Again, at the risk of sounding super unprofessional, I adore them so much.

Today, I decided to wear a dress to work. I don’t do that usually and so it got noticed.

My littlest one always arrives before everyone. After she settles in, she walks up to me and says, “You look pretty.” And I respond with, “Who took my student and replaced her with an alien? She is not this nice to me!” And she immediately says, “It is me. You look pretty … ugly.” And then, she smiles and I was like “Glad you are still here kiddo!”.

Then, the next kid arrives. This little guy has echolalia and mostly repeats what people say to him. If he says anything, it is related to wanting something. So, it is kind of cool when he says something spontaneously without prompting. He settles in and then, he also walks up to me, and he says, “I like it.” And that was it. He walks away.

My oldest arrives as I was sharing the “pretty ugly” anecdote with the staff next door. She immediately rushes to my rescue and says that “Ms Momley Teacher is pretty” and she repeats it a few times until I acknowledge her.

I have 2 others - a girl with echolalia and a boy who didn’t speak until I got him. The girl has also started speaking sentences spontaneously and before the winter break, she told me quietly, “Ms Momley Teacher, I love you.” And her mother was happy to hear that. The boy who didn’t speak, can’t stop speaking now.

Their parents are pleasantly surprised some days, and I am fiercely proud of all my work kids’ achievements each day.

One of the “other” students once asked me, as he pointed to one of my 2 boys, “what is wrong with him?”. I wanted to ask this student, “what is wrong with you?”. But then I realized he is also just a kid. So, I simply said, “nothing”.

Snow Days and Staying In

 A snow day is probably not unusual in Toronto, but 2 within a matter of 12 days is unbelievable indeed. Today, January 26^th, is the second snow day. The first one was on January 15^th.

What I enjoyed about these snow days is that I got to spend time with Hans. We live in the same abode but barely see each other. On the 15^th, we got to collaborate on a “sub app”, as part of the application process to universities, and it was a lot of fun. That day was the first of a few deadlines. It was for IVEY. One of their requirements was two 500-word essays.

Hans wondered if I could edit his 2 essays. This was only the second time, as a high school student, that Hans has asked me for academic support. I felt useful and glad that I was available. I was also relieved that he didn’t use my status as a single mom! Hans’ first essay was about the martial arts program he is enrolled in. He started the essay by talking about the reasons that steered him in that direction. He listed 3 - COVID, since that led to virtual school and isolation in March 2020; the passing away of his paternal grandfather in December 2021; and the death of his paternal grandmother in June 2022. It was a well written essay, and it was over the word limit! My job was to bring its content just under the limit without taking away the essence of its intent.

(The essay got me thinking of all the other terrible things that happened in Hans’ life - his parents separating, the loss of the only family home he had known, and the sense of abandonment he felt when his dad left him. The boy did not use any of those sob stories.)

The first time Hans and I cried in unison was at a grocery store, right after we settled in ASid at his residence on campus in August 2019 and said goodbye to him. As we got out of the car and walked into the grocery store, it hit us both, at the same time, that our life would be different without ASid. In a very public display of emotion, we hugged each other and let the tears roll down our cheeks. Hans was 11 years old then. After that, I have only seen Hans cry twice.

When he heard the news of his paternal grandfather’s death, his grief was unbearable to him and bewildering to me. Hans’ dad decided to break off all ties with his parents when Hans was 2 years old. The boy never had a relationship with his grandparents and yet, he was distraught. He shared that he had been waiting for the time when he would be independent enough to renew those severed relationships, and he realized that he wasn’t going to have that opportunity. Then, I understood the great loss he felt. At the funeral service, he finally met his paternal grandmother who couldn’t recognize her own child, Hans’ dad, as she was suffering from dementia. That was the end of Hans’ surviving bit of hope.

The most recent and last time Hans cried was when we came to check out the apartment buildings we currently reside in. I guess he knew for certain that his life was about to change in a way he didn’t want it to. We were in my parents’ car. Hans was 14 years old then. I was glad that he felt safe enough to be vulnerable with his mother and her parents.

Yesterday, he remarked that this year he will be 18, and then, he can longer make wish lists for his birthdays and Christmas. So, I told him that as long as his parents are alive, he will always be a child in a way. Hans quickly responded with “Mom, promise me that you are never going to die.”, and I told him that I would try. And we spent some time watching Ninjago … his favourite series that he discovered when he was just 3 years old!

Since we knew today was going to be a snow day, we rejoiced and cashed in our extra free time a little early. I am thankful for the unexpected breaks that are bestowed on us. I am so going to miss my time with Hans when he is off to live his life on a campus that is lucky to have him!

Meanwhile, on whatever planet Hans is on …

Stuff is still happening!

2 nights ago, I woke up twice to sounds in the kitchen. The following morning, I walked into the kitchen and saw the sink just as I had left it before I went to sleep - pristine! I checked the dishwasher and there was nothing “new” in there!

Did I dream it all?

When I got back from work yesterday, I was looking for leftovers for dinner. Then, I saw a couple of empty containers. Still, I didn’t put two and two together. When Hans got home, I asked him why he would put back empty containers in the fridge.

“Mom, the sink was so clean. I didn’t want to fill it with dirty dishes.”

This morning, I found the empty milk carton in the fridge.

This morning, TDSB also declared a Snow Day. Hans was praying for it. He had 2 tests today, and a university application deadline. His wish came true.

Usually, I leave home by 7 am and Hans’ alarm is set for 7:30 am. So, I waited outside his room for the alarm to go off; knocked on his door to tell him to go back to sleep. As I opened the door, Hans received the news with a happy “seriously?”. Then, he gets out of bed to walk up to a bookshelf and turn the alarm off on the clock that was perched up there. After that, he walks back to his bed to turn the alarm off on his phone and goes back to bed.

Ah! That’s how he manages to wake up!

Hans continues to make me smile. I am very happy to be on whatever planet he is on … with dirty dishes and all!

Irreplaceable

For those who care to know, I wasn't at work yesterday. I was at a learning session for the entire day. At around lunch time, the other ISP teacher sent me a cheerful note.

 

Your kids had a wonderful morning with Ms SupplyTeacher! Hope you are enjoying your workshop!

I was happy to receive the note, but it also made me sad. I was like "life goes on ... with or without me"! Did I want to hear that it was utter chaos without me?! I don't know. I felt like I am so replaceable!

This morning, I woke up to messages from ASid's best friend who goes to school in Ottawa. This is what he sent.

 

Hi, I don't mean to overstep or anything but I think Hans might be going through something and I wanted to give you a heads up just in case he hasn't reached out to you yet. Not sure if it's my place or not but I think someone at his school passed away so I wanted to warn you just in case. Not sure how close Hans and them were but wanted to let you know.

Then, I also read a message from ASid where he said that it was a suicide.

I tried to remember my conversation with Hans yesterday … It was about his haircut that he described as an assault on his person, and I told him that hair grows back. I also told him to eat better, and then, I let him be.

I almost always leave for work before he wakes up. So, I decided to talk about the "incident" from his school later today. On my way to work I thought of the parents of the child who was gone. It made me very sad. When I got to work, I needed to talk with someone. There is this teacher who is always there bright and early, and she has become my unofficial mentor and a real friend. Often, I decompress with her. So, I walked into her classroom.

I started off by saying how I felt like I was so easily replaceable. And she knew exactly what to say to me. She said that I am perhaps physically replaceable; however, no one can replace my essence. Long after students move on, I will continue to be in their memories.

Then, I told her about this child passing away, and the tears started rolling down my cheeks. I just reached out for a hug and thanked her for being there for me. It is so liberating to be able to walk into another teacher’s classroom and treat it like a therapist’s office. I suddenly felt thankful for my life!

It took a while getting back home, and I was glad to know that Hans was just sick and a little distraught. He had known the other child for about 6 years … not a friend, but it was still a shock. All I could tell him was that we are lucky to have the people we have in our lives, and hopefully we will never think of ending what we have.

I probably should have told him that we are irreplaceable.

An Unexpected Surprise

Last summer, when I was in Ottawa for about 24 hours, I spoke like 2400 things with KPF. One of them was about the little kiddo at my work that I also wrote about here. KPF, being the most positive person I know, kept insisting that this kid likes me. I was still sceptical. School resumed in September and she just got meaner. She even punched me as captured in another post. So, I couldn’t imagine this child liking me at all.

Today, I let my students know that I would be away tomorrow. This is the first day I am taking off from work. One of the students said she would miss me. This is my oldest who turned 9 last month. Then, my littlest piped in. She is 8, as of last month, and her meanness now has a sense of maturity about it! In that recently acquired tone, she wanted to know if I was “leaving” them?! I was like “I am just taking a day off and I will be back on Thursday”. Then, she asked for some paper. She was busy for the next few minutes. She only took a little break to ask me how to draw fingers. I told her to trace her fingers and fill the details in. She didn’t even say thanks and got back to whatever she was doing.

Few more minutes later, she walked up to me and handed me a card she made. It had the most beautiful colours on the outside with a nice border, and there was also some writing in the middle (and this kid hates to write). She was very excited for me to open the card. So, I did and saw the drawing of a finger. She smiled and shared that it was her middle finger!

That was the moment I knew that this child likes me. She really likes me.

Addendum:

I shared pics of the card with KPF. This is what my friend had to say: “It looks more like her first finger! i.e. you are #1!!!”

I guess a lone finger is open to interpretation, and KPF saw it from his usual positive perspective.

What We Remember

January 1, 2026, has been a great first day so far. I spent the morning with my friend Manda, and I spent the evening with my friend Kay’s family and Hans and ASid and his girlfriend. (I don’t have a pseudonym for the young lady yet, but I am leaning towards “Amie”.)

Over dinner, ASid and I became storytellers and entertained everyone. It was one of those rare gatherings where everyone present stayed together for the entire time. Usually, Hans and Kay’s son just surface from the basement for grub and then, quickly disappear! That day, they remained to listen to the stories. One of the stories was about ASid’s trip to Paris when he was 13 years old. He reminisced about being there with his first real crush. Apparently, he had wanted to confess his feelings to her at the top of the Eiffel Tower, and unfortunately, he couldn’t muster the courage to do so. About 7-8 years later, he found out that he was also her first crush, and they had a good laugh about it!

It was interesting what I remembered from that trip and what he did!

I am glad for the opportunity to go back in time and add another perspective to a moment. I am also glad that ASid had more on his mind, on that trip, than what I was worrying about.

Honest Writing

If there was ever a female equivalent/version of Smoggie, that would be my friend Manda (formerly known as C). She is like him because she is non-judgemental of anything and everything I do, and that means I can tell her anything and everything. Manda is also like me as she is a single mom with 2 boys. I first made her acquaintance when Hans was in SK and her oldest started in JK. As soon as Manda found out that I was a stay-at-home mom, she put me to work. She recruited me to run her lunch program at various schools. When we met, both our marriages were on shaky ground; however, we were focussed on our boys and that’s all that mattered. In the last 3 to 4 years, Manda has been my rock.

Yesterday, on New Year’s Day, I gave her a call. We spoke at length. Then, we decided to get a coffee and catch up in person.

I told her how I ran into G at a grocery store and we ended up having lunch. When G and I worked on the School Council together, he used to be infuriated with the amount of email I would send … especially when there were disputes between the council and some parents. At one point, he wrote an email to me with the following words - “Stop sending email” or something like that! I reminisced about that and jokingly suggested that maybe that’s still the reason he never responded to any email or text messages I sent him?! His response was that I write too much, and he doesn’t know how to respond to that! Fair enough, I guess!

I must confess that I unequivocally communicate more than perhaps all my friends’ communication combined. I write when I am happy. I write when I am sad. I write when I am upset. I write in response to any feeling I am feeling, and the receiver is whoever is orbiting my universe at that point in time.

I believe Manda and I zeroed in on another tragic flaw of mine. She told me that I can be too intense in my writing. I had to agree. When I write here, I am very mindful and I focus on the positive. When I am writing privately, I am honest to a fault. Perhaps that’s how I lost a few friendships. No regrets!

It is wonderful to be eventually surrounded by people who *see* me and who are not afraid to stick around. I am grateful.

Happy 2026 everyone. Live and let live.