Loulou's views

We've come a long, long way together... Through the hard times and the good, I have to celebrate you baby... I have to praise you like I should. Fatboy Slim Two years ago, my oldest son started kindergarten. I was really worried . I had a million different fears, but mostly, I was scared of how he would adapt in school since it was his his first time in that environment. I worried if he would go the bathroom if he had to. If he would eat his snack. If his teacher would be nice. If he'd make friends. It was a lot of worry! We went to meet his teacher a few days before school started, and it did not go well at all . However, as the days and weeks went by, he started loving school. Really loving school, and his teacher, and his classmates. He was thriving, and I was proud. The last day of school was emotional for other reasons, and marked the end of 12 amazing months. "Say cheese!" I said to my little junior kindergarten graduate, and was given a huge smile and two th

I am from high top sneakers and push down socks, from Fashion Plates and Cabbage Patch Kids, from Rainbrow Brite, see the shining light, and my favourite Lucky Care Bear. I am from Nerds and Archie comics, a best friend who lived next door, and She-Ra, Princess of Power. I am from banana clips that never stayed in my thick, unruly hair, neon bandanas, and Scooby Dooby Doo, I love you. I am from brown carpet on the stairs of my old home that I used to pretend was quicksand so we could play Star Wars, falling into Jabba the Hutt's pit. I am from a living room with giant bay windows, overlooking the forest, and trees swaying in the wind. I am from never ending summer days and building space ships to take us to the moon. I am from the days of terry cloth dresses and jelly shoes. I am from the little orange television set in our kitchen, the television set that started my fascination with news one cold day in January, 1986, the day the Challenger exploded right before my eyes, tears str

" I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve." Stand by Me I've had the same group of best friends since I was 12. Maybe even youger. We have been friends since before we waxed our eyebrows. We have been friends since the days we wore our hair in a 'poufs', as we called it, and teased our bangs to look like Alyssa Milano. Definitely since crop tops and high-waisted jeans worn with skinny leather belts bought at Guess were in style. Since before 90210. Probably since the beginning of Who's The Boss. My best friends are awesome. And we've been through it all together. Bad hairstyles, awful jeans, pleather pants and tops, sequined tube tops and Tretorn running shoes. We have been together since skinny jeans were first in style, perfected with safety pins. We have spooked ourselves with the Ouija board, watched Girls Just Want to Have Fun more than one million times, and danced all night long. We have travelled to Venezue

Motherhood is a million different emotions exposed every single day. Motherhood is letting your toddler use your dress as a Kleenex, and being okay with the fact that you're walking around in public very stained. Motherhood is reading 10 books at 10:30 p.m. to a three year old who will not fall asleep, no matter what. Motherhood is saving the last bite for your child. Motherhood is trading your awesome French Vanilla ice cream (sigh) for the Superkid flavour. Motherhood is sliding down a metal slide in a too short dress and feeling the burn, just because it makes your child laugh. Motherhood is sleeping only five hours a night for over five years, and not even caring anymore. Motherhood is waking up in a panicked state, remembering the school bake sale the next day. Motherhood, in turn, is baking cupcakes at midnight. Motherhood is sharing a knowing look with your child, and receiving smiles that melt your heart over and over again. Motherhood is grinning and

"Mommy, can you stay home again today?" my five year old asked me yesterday morning as I was making his snack for school. He was busy colouring in his new Egypt colouring book we bought at the museum gift shop the day before. I was floored. Usually, my big boy blows me a kiss and barely has time to say good-bye to me when I leave for work. That awful feeling of mommy guilt hit me like a ton of bricks. I ran upstairs to kiss my three year old good-bye. "Mommy, you no work today, right?" he looked up at me with his big, gorgeous, brown eyes. I gave him the biggest hug I could, and told him I'd see him after work. I promised him I'd print him off a few pictures of Marv and Harry (you know, the bad guys from Home Alone?) because he's obsessed with that movie, and that made him smile. Tuesday was one of those perfect summer days—I took the day off work and spent it with my boys. We went to the children's museum where we stamped our passports at differen