Happy Father’s Day: A Letter to My Husband

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Dear Chris,

For the past four-and-a-half years, I’ve seen you grow and learn and thrive as a father.  I’ve seen our children grow and learn and thrive with you as their father.

Last Father’s Day, our baby daughter was only three months old, and I found myself reflecting on the father/daughter relationship that I have with my dad.  This year, with 15 months of being a father-of-two under your belt, I’ve noticed some amazing things about your relationship with our children from my vantage point:

-You are their hero.  They watch everything that you do, learn from everything that you do, and want to do everything that you do.  You are, and will continue to be, a big player in their self-esteem.  You’re teaching them to be confident, self-assured, and proud.

-Little girls are just as capable as little boys, and little boys are just as capable as little girls.  You are teaching our daughter to have strength, and our son to have sensitivity.  You are ignoring gender roles and raising our kids as people.  You’re teaching them equality.

-They’re watching how you treat me.  They’re watching how you never leave or enter our house without kisses and hugs.  You’re teaching them how to be a great partner.  You’re teaching them about the important treasure that is family.

-The kindness you show to other people rubs off on them.  They see you help others and give generously.  You’re teaching them compassion and respect, manners and appreciation.

-Your humour is a staple in our lives; how quiet our house would be without laughter!  They expect tickles with your hugs and whiskers with your kisses.  You’re teaching them to smile, to find joy, and to feel happiness.

-The father/daughter relationship and father/son relationship are both unique.  One is not better or worse, more or less, stronger or weaker than the other.  But they are different.  You are providing both of them with what they need.  You’re teaching them to love and to be loved.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!  We love you!

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A Female Chiropractor?

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BSAS LogoI have had some interesting experiences at work lately.  As many of you know, I have recently relocated my chiropractic practice, so this means I am meeting many new faces and being introduced regularly.

A couple of these recent introductions have produced some……. disheartening? annoying? disappointing? eye-opening? thought-provoking? results.

On two separate occasions, once in-person and once on the phone, people have asked me if I am the new massage therapist.  Now, before I go on, let me make something perfectly clear: I am not the least bit offended about being assumed to be a massage therapist.  I love massage therapists.  I have many friends who are massage therapists.  I think it is a very valuable and important profession.  What I am offended about is the fact that I was assumed to be a massage therapist because I am female.

I can’t say that I’ve experienced a glass-ceiling effect or sexual prejudice in my career thus far, at least not overtly, unlike many of my female counterparts in the corporate world.  But I have experienced assumptions, differences in behaviour, and innuendoes, which are all ripples beneath the surface of gender discrimination.

This question would not be posed to a male.  People would assume that a new male staff member is the new chiropractor, despite the fact that more female students are now enrolling in Chiropractic Colleges than male students.  Despite the fact that it is common to see male RMTs, especially in sports-based clinics such as mine.  Despite the fact that it says ‘Dr. Worobec’ on my shirt.

Let’s stop under-estimating women in the workforce.  I know female truck-drivers, and police officers, and welders.  These women excel in their professions not in spite of, or because of, their gender, but because of who they are as individuals.

Let’s teach our girls that their goals and aspirations are not limited by their gender.  Let’s teach them to dream of being a firefighter, or an astronaut, or a surgeon.  Let’s teach them that they can do it too.

Let’s teach them… and let’s re-learn it ourselves.

MassageHands

My Floors Are Always Dirty

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My floors are always dirty.  Especially in the Spring and Summer.  Especially the kitchen floor.

cause it's summer

You see, our back patio door opens off our kitchen, and we spend more time outside than inside when the weather is nice.  Our backyard is our oasis in the city- complete with trees, grass, and a sandpit.  The sandpit that we have may be the same kind that you have….. you know, the kind that sand seems to jump out of and stick to any child or dog within a 5m radius?  Yep, that kind.  This sand is then tracked into my house via the patio door via my kitchen floor.  Along with grass clippings, pebbles, sticks, twigs, rocks, bugs, dog food, flowers, grass seed, leaves, and all other backyard flora and fauna.

By day’s end, my floors feel more like sandpaper than tile, they look more beige than white, and they sound more rough than smooth.  Out comes the broom and the steammop, and I have nice clean floors again between the hours of 8pm and 8am.

But the sand I clean up reminds me of the huge sandcastle my son built, and the pride I saw on his face.

The grass clippings remind me of the excited smile my daughter had when she felt the lawn on her bare toes, and the sense of wonder in her eyes.

The sidewalk chalk dust reminds me of the artwork that graces my driveway, and the creativity and imagination it inspired.

The twigs remind me of the fun our puppy had exploring his new environment.

So I will take the sand.  And the grass clippings.  And the chalk dust and the twigs.  Because a clean kitchen floor means far less to me than a day of backyard fun with the dirt to prove it.

My floors are always dirty.  And I like it that way.

***This post was originally written as a Guest Blog post for Momstown.ca.