Call me ‘Ash’

Leave a comment February 5, 2013 drworobec

I am a fan of nicknames and short-forms. I call my kids Bubbas (Drew) and Goose (Casey). No idea why….the words just came out of my mouth one day and stuck. I call reservations ‘resos’, appetizers ‘appys’, bedtime ‘BT’, and conversations ‘convos’. I like pedis and manis, lol’s, and ‘za. That might be why I prefer to be called ‘Ash’, rather than ‘Ashley’.

My full name is Ashley Jan Worobec. ‘Jan’ is for my mom, Janis, and ‘Worobec’ is my married name. I used to be a Swelin (sounds like Sundin, as in “Swool-een”), but I wanted to have the same Surname as my children; I’ve proudly been a Worobec for nearly 7 years now.

When you call me Ash, I feel a sense of familiarity and fond recollection of my childhood. I’m the only female grandchild on my mom’s side, and my brother and all my cousins call me Ash. I feel like you know my history.

When you call me Ash, I feel like it’s my best friends calling me Ash. In fact, the annual girl’s trip of Ash/Sarah/Shan is affectionately called the ‘ASS Tour’. I feel like you know that we’ve been touring nearly every year since ’98.

When you call me Ash, I feel like we lose the formality of full names and shift to the casualness of nicknames. The Jennifers, Williams, and Roberts out there regularly get Jen, Bill, and Bob. I feel like an ‘Ash’.

When you call me Ash, I feel like you know that I’m a tomboy at heart. I love sports and barefeet and being outside far more than I love crafts and high heels and air conditioning. I feel like you know my interests and my passions.

When you call me Ash, it might be just semantics to you, but it means a lot to me. I identify as an ‘Ash’ more than an ‘Ashley’. I feel like you know me, the real me.

Call me Ash.

It’s not Babysitting, It’s Parenting

6 Comments January 29, 2013 drworobec

I believe in feminism. I believe women are strong. I believe women are independent. And I’m a hard-core women-can-do-it-too believer. We live in a wonderful time of equality and opportunity, with a notable exception surrounding child-rearing. Primary childcare still seems to be seen as a ‘woman’s domain’.

My husband and I have set up our work schedules to be 50/50 parents. I am self-employed, and am thankful for the flexibility of setting my work hours accordingly. We work opposite hours, and one of us is always able to be with our children, now 4 and almost 1. He takes the kids to extended-family-dinners on Monday nights, to skating lessons on Wednesdays, and to Costco on Thursdays. He takes them to doctor’s appointments, the library, and on neighborhood walks. He feeds them supper, gives them baths, and reads them books. However, when I am at work, his solo-parenting is still seen by some to be ‘babysitting’. I was grocery shopping with both kids in tow one recent morning, and my conversation with the cashier went something like this:

Cashier: “What lovely children you have. Are you a stay-at-home mom?”

Me: “Thanks. I work part-time. I’m home with the kids during the day, and when my husband gets home from work, I head in to work and we switch off kid-duty.”

Cashier: “Oh, that’s great. It’s nice that he can babysit.”

Me: “Drew, please stop poking your sister in the face. Pardon me?”

Here is the definition of babysit: “to take charge of a child while the parents are temporarily away.”
Here is the definition of parenting: “the rearing of children; the methods, techniques, etc., used or required in the rearing of children; the state of being a parent.”

My husband is not a babysitter, he is a father. He does not get paid $10/hour, he gets paid in children’s smooshy hugs and slobbery kisses. He does not get driven home after a night out, he gets woken up early by energetic, vibrant kids. He does not spend time with our children only on Friday nights and occasional Saturday afternoons, he spends time with our children every day. He is not doing me a favour by looking after them, he is doing himself and them a favour by being together.My husband is an exceptional father. But he’s not a babysitter.

I love this one!

I love this one too!

Memories for Sale

4 Comments January 15, 2013 drworobec

We’ve lived in our current house for 1.5 years and it really feels like home. But I just drove by our old place, where we lived for nearly 7 years, and I saw a ‘For Sale’ sign on the lawn. Curious to see what ‘our house’ now looks like, I found pictures on MLS that told the story….. the young couple who bought it from us renovated everything and are completing the ‘flip’ by selling it with a huge pricetag. Uugh. My emotions got stirred up.

There are so many memories that I have tied up in that house. And while sentimental value doesn’t add equity to a house, it adds equity to a heart. To my heart.

That’s the house we lived in when we were first married.

That’s the house that we brought our first baby home to.

That’s the house that we laughed in, loved in, and lived in.

I wanted them to love it as much as we did.

My husband went to the Open House to see it for himself, and he said it’s beautiful. I couldn’t go with him, since I’d probably just walk through each room crying about what used to be. What used to be my son’s nursery, and the many hours of rocking and feeding and cuddling, is now a staged guestroom. What used to be my kitchen, and the many meals prepared and parties held, is now a state-of-the-art showpiece. What used to be my living room, where my son learned to roll over and crawl and walk, is now minimalist and modern.

I want to remember that house the way it was when we left it. I want to remember how our puppy chewed on the doorframe of the bathroom. I want to remember the living room with multi-coloured mats on the floor and baby toys strewn about. I want to remember the hours spent playing in the backyard and watering the flowers.

That’s where this chapter of my life began. I don’t want to rewrite the setting in my mind.