The Scarecrow

What are the urban legends we tell to keep people in line?

On a recent Sunday grocery run with T, as I parked the car, he said, “There’s an owl on the roof.”

I love that T notices things that we normally miss.

There indeed was an owl on the roof of the supermarket, pictured above.

T wanted to take a closer look and I realized it wasn’t moving.

T borrowed my phone so he could zoom in with my camera – he took the photo above – and indeed it was a fake owl!

So I told him it was like a scarecrow.

“But it’s not a human and is not made out of straw,” he refuted.

I thought about how scarecrows manifest in our lives as caregivers.

We’ve been struggling in the last while with T’s disregulated moments – when the verbal aggression and meltdowns happen that seemingly flip the moment upside down.

It got to the point I had to fake call the police to get him to calm down.

Yes, these YouTube videos exist and they are gloriously entertaining.

T would stop his meltdown and come begging us to cancel the call.

The first time we did this, the hubby and I were in stitches, dying of laughter.

Yes, I’m aware we’re not winning a parenting award, but we did it out sheer exasperation.

But the hubby and I made a pact to not have to resort to this again, because it’s not effective.

The FASD brain is not wired to understand consequences.

Challenges with impulsivity, regulation and executive functioning mean this will be an ongoing challenge and we’ll need to use different strategies, including modifying T’s environment.

So it’s a work in progress. Life is a work in progress.

We focus on the wins and let go of the moments – and the guilt and regret – of when you could’ve done better in the heat of the moment.

Celebrate the wins, like T gaining self-help skills as my companion during our Sunday grocery runs, one of my favourite Papa and T bonding rituals.

Earlier in November, our family went for our annual flu and Covid booster shots.

T proclaimed beforehand he will be brave. The year before, the entire pharmacy heard his profanity-laced meltdown and he had to be held down by the hubby and several staff.

Just our luck, it was the same pharmacist this year.

But T kept his promise, he didn’t make a fuss as she rolled up his sleeve. Needle in and out in the blink of an eye.

🥰🥰🥰

While T was waiting for his shot, an exasperated mother was trying to calm her daughter down.

As they walked in the room for their shot, T turned to her. “Hey, good luck,” he said in solidarity. 🥰

Didn’t calm the child down, but he tried! Nothing is more soul soothing than a meltdown from a child that’s not mine. 😂

Fears can be conquered, we just gotta give our children space to move at their own pace.

It’s like this brave pigeon below that figured out something was off with the owl.

Don’t mess around with Toronto pigeons. They’ll eat your children if they have to.

Now there’s a thought.

Hide and Seek

We’re wired for connection and time with people can be healing and open our minds.

I was delighted to be invited back to The Heart of the Matter podcast to speak with Wynne Leon and Vicki Atkinson about finding community.

Connecting with Wynne and Vicki is always a joy. Our chat reminded me about recent talks I attended by the CEO of a social connection movement about the importance of community connections in combatting the loneliness epidemic.

I’m blessed with amazing family, friends and colleagues, so I don’t consider myself lonely.

But parenting a child with FASD can feel isolating at times and the antidote to isolation is human connection.

I am thankful for the amazing community in our city and online, because I am reminded the hubby, T and I are not on this journey alone.

Connecting with others helps us do our part to spread kindness in an increasingly polarized and uncivil world.

As I shared with Wynne and Vicki, I recently deputed at a town hall hosted by our school board’s Special Education Advisory Committee.

I was called to speak first and after I did my part, I stayed and listened to other parents depute and advocate for their children and communities.

We were strangers to each other, but we stayed till the very last parent deputed an hour and a half later, to support each other and to show the board we were united.

The aforementioned social connection CEO shared this thought provoking “Worlds Apart” ad by Heinekin with my colleagues and I.

This ad reminds why I do my part to raise awareness about FASD, because it is only through connection that minds and hearts can be opened.

Perhaps the most important connection to nurture in my life is with T.

I’m making a big effort this fall to widen T’s community connections and I’ll share amusing stories over the next few posts.

The past while has not been without challenges and there are moments when I wanted to retreat within myself – and I am grateful for the moments the hubby shouldered the load, because I can see the wear and tear of the challenges on him.

But hard times always pass and we get through them by connecting with others.

One of our dearest friends came over recently for a movie night and it’s been ages since we enjoyed junk food and a cheesy movie together.

Spicy Garlic Doritos are the best!

Today was our first Sunday without soccer lessons, which are done until the new year.

So I took it easy this morning. As I sipped my coffee and cleared out my work inbox, T crawled across our dining table and placed his chin on the top of my laptop.

Someone wanted my attention. 😂

So I called work a day and we spent a chunk of time playing hide and seek.

He’s getting good at finding hiding spots!

Then T and I went for our Sunday grocery run.

“Do I have to go with you?” he asked me.

“You don’t have to, but it would be nice if you joined me. I always enjoy and appreciate your company,” I said.

Then he smiled and put on his coat.

We have a ritual where T likes to stand at the front of the cart while I push him. He imagines we’re on a train and narrates our journey from one station to another as we gather our items.

It’s silly fun that brings out the warm fuzzies that hide in the shelter of the heart.

Miss Americana, Taylor Swift

T and I celebrated the hubby’s birthday with a night out at Taylor Swift’s highly anticipated Eras Tour show in Toronto.

We had purchased the tickets, nosebleed seats, last Fall and were lucky to get them at face value.

The hubby’s sister visited us for his birthday week and it was nice they got to spend time together and she joined us for the concert.

None of us consider ourselves Swifties, but we enjoy listening to her songs on our drives and the massive buzz in the city was inescapable.

The hubby made friendship bracelets for us, which we all proudly wore.

Our show was on a Friday night and a PA Day, so T was both more relaxed and we also didn’t have to worry about the day after.

We took public transit and T was a bit overexcited on the subway, but we all expected it.

If the hordes of fans dressed up for the show didn’t help with wayfinding, the signage at Union Station certainly did!

Rogers Centre got into friendship bracelets too.

After a wonderful opening set by Gracie Abrams, the main event started around 7:30.

And boy, did the stadium filled with 50,000 fans just simply lose it from the opening song, Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince, and didn’t let up till the end.

For nearly four hours, Swift sang through fan favourites that spanned all albums from her 17-year career and the crowd was under her spell.

I see and get the Swiftie appeal now. The joyous energy of fans singing and dancing along was both deafening and positively infectious.

T enjoyed most of the show and thankfully, we remembered to bring his noise buffering headphones after forgetting to do last time.

There were moments when the show became too much for him, so he played on the hubby’s phone, or sat on my lap and asked to be hugged, or hugged the hubby. By the last hour, he curled up on his seat to sleep, covering his face with his jacket.

💕💕💕

November is a surreal month for me.

Three days before the show was my sister’s birthday and this was the 2nd birthday we’re observing since she passed away. Three days after the show was the one year anniversary of my dear friend Jenny’s death.

Sandwiched in the middle was the hubby’s birthday and it was a joyful celebration – a reminder that hard times pass and to fill our lives with as many positive memories as we can.

I am grateful we got to experience this special evening with T.

Toronto is the 2nd last stop in Swift’s 2-year, 149-show tour that spanned 5 continents – and we caught the 8th last show of this historic tour.

I only took 1 video during the show and it was of a sweet moment when T was fully engaged with “Style,” his and my favourite Taylor Swift song.

People often remark what a handsome kid T is. I captured a wonderful candid photo of him on the subway that I won’t post but will describe with Swift’s poetic lyrics:

“You’ve got that James Dean daydream look in your eyes… we never go out of style, we never go out of style.”

Win as a Team

Watching our 9-year-old T enjoy soccer lessons reminds me of why we work as a team.

T is halfway through his first round of lessons and it’s been a fun Sunday morning family routine.

The hubby and I signed our soccer fan up for these free lessons offered at a City-run recreation centre to help him build social connection, to learn how to play well with others and to have fun.

It’s amusing watching the kids play, because as a whole, they can all benefit from honing their team work skills – disability or otherwise!

Kids kicking the ball aimlessly or not passing and playing together. I chuckled when one of the goalies left their post so they could try to score a goal on the other side themselves! 😂

There are a few kids who are quite good and during a recent game, they all ended up on the same team.

T watched them play another team and when it was his team’s turn to play this well-coordinated team, he said out loud, “Our team is cooked!” 😆

And as he predicted, the other team won – although T scored his first-ever goal during this game and I cheered quite loudly!

On the drive home, we told T it’s important to work as a team and that means spreading out, each person playing a role, passing the ball and keeping an eye out for an open teammate. Because when one person scores the goal, the entire team wins.

Like soccer, teamwork is essential for families, especially one navigating complex special needs, such as fetal alcohol spectrum disorder.

It’s crucial the hubby and I work together, especially during challenging moments, because this life is exhausting.

He’s made so many gains in swimming.

Working as a team includes dividing roles at home: I do groceries with T and cook, the hubby cleans; I do math homework, the hubby does French; we take turns driving T to swim lessons on Saturday mornings; the hubby does school drop off, I do pickup on days I work from home. And so on.

When one of us is having a hard time with T, often me, we tag out and the other covers. It’s like guarding our goal posts, the reserve of energy and sanity required to get through this wild ride.

Just like dysfunction can ruin a team’s chances, caring for loved ones with FASD can cause family dysfunction and chaos that feel destabilizing.

I can see why relationships are tested by this caregiving journey and I have even more compassion for those doing this on their own.

But you dig deep and remind yourself why you want to get through these moments – the child that you love – because when you play as a team, you win as a team.

During T’s most recent soccer lessons, he’s taken up the defender role, staying close to the goal post, and we noticed he is passing the ball more and looking for an open colleague first.

One of his teammates scored a winning goal and he cheered loudly with a big wide smile. But not as loudly as his Papa cheered.

Doing his soccer drills.

The Simple Life: Exploring Village Historique Acadien in New Brunswick

Less is more. Tight knit community connections. Want not, waste not.

These were thoughts that came to mind when we stepped back in time during a visit to the Acadian Village in New Brunswick in August.

Le Village Historique Acadien is an historical reconstruction that portrays the way of life of Acadians between 1770 and 1949.

Our immersive experience through over 40 buildings was enhanced by great weather, although it was quite buggy at times.

Our leisurely walk started with the oldest simplest homes.

It was remarkable to see the living and dining quarters all in one tiny room, often for large families, many of whom slept on the floor.

Later homes had separate bedrooms, but often shared by multiple family members.

I noted to T how lucky he was to have his own room and a comfortable bed to sleep on.

I noted other things we take for granted today, such as not needing to chop and store firewood to warm the home – nor needing outdoor cooling rooms, as we have appliances.

Having said that, if there was a zombie apocalypse, this village is where we’d hide out!

I recalled with a chuckle the last time the hubby and I visited the similar Black Creek Pioneer Village in Toronto.

We walked into an old mill and a young staff member, dressed in period millworker clothing, was browsing the Internet on his phone. 😂

“We have a time traveler in our midst,” I mused.

What made the Acadian Village experience so fun was all the staff were fully engaged in their roles.

From the school teacher who ran the single classroom for all grade levels…

… to the man who worked at the newspaper…

… to the general store owner.

Not surprisingly, T enjoyed seeing and interacting with the farm animals most. 💕

I enjoyed seeing the village crops that grew and were used for the homes and onsite restaurant.

Check out this old-fashioned outdoor oven. I’d love one of these!

Around lunchtime, the home owners prepared and ate lunch, and visitors could watch them do so the old fashioned way using beautiful cast iron.

Our stomachs started grumbling, so we enjoyed lunch at the onsite restaurant, with simple meals prepared to mimic the past.

The more modern homes in the latter part of the walk were beautiful, such as this stone manor with its dreamy kitchen and dining room. Love it!

As we crossed the charming covered bridge that served as a transition from past to present, I was moved by the simplicity of life back then.

Despite the lack of modern luxuries we enjoy such as digital technology, there was value placed on hard work, using up and not wasting limited resources and the importance of family and community to thrive together.

There were important lessons to be learned here for T and it’ll be interesting to see what he thinks of this daytrip one day.

Story of My Life

I made it home just in time for a special unexpected bedtime routine with T.

With thanks to the hubby, I had a rare weeknight out to support colleagues at an event.

As I texted the hubby on the subway ride home, he let me know it was a rougher night; T was very disregulated and had aggressive meltdowns.

But thankfully, he had calmed down when I got home to put him to bed and unexpectedly, he asked to read two books at bedtime.

We had not read at bedtime in a while. He picked two board books we kept after a recent declutter: Toronto ABC and Canada ABC by Paul Covello.

T had long outgrown these books but they were books we read countless times over the years.

With his head rested on my shoulders, we took a trip down memory lane, as T pointed out where we had been together over the years.

Like Toronto’s Distillery District, where they host a charming Christmas market every year.

Or taking the ferry over to Toronto Island, where T went on his first amusement park rides and I have a vivid memory of him enjoying ice cream under the shade of a tree.

Countless walks at Nathan Phillips Square, including after a recent event to support FASD Awareness Day.

The memory of T’s first time at Pearson Airport at age 1 looking at an airplane as we waited to board a flight to visit his grandparents in New Brunswick for Christmas.

“I’ve been here. The ROM!” T shouted as I turned the page.

“Yes you have,” I said, reminding him he’s been with his class and his cousin, A.

T should be for T but in this case, it was the CN Tower, where he bravely walked on the glass floor and I watched from the opaque floor nearby.

The many visits to the waterfront, where my late sister lived.

How quickly time flies from when T first visited at 15 months old on a stroller.

And the Zoo, which he visited for the first time with my late Ma. I had to pause and look at this photo below for a moment.

Last Wednesday, the entertainment world was rocked by the sudden death of One Direction boyband member, Liam Payne.

I’m not a diehard fan, but have memories of their hit song “Story of My Life” playing during family roadtrips over the years.

What struck me most was how young he was and the tragic circumstances that surrounded his death.

In the back of my hubby and my mind is the fear of T being an adolescent with FASD going down a path of mental health and addiction challenges, as Payne reportedly struggled with.

Statistically, the odds put T at risk. Challenging evenings such as the recent one certainly don’t put us at ease.

The day after Payne’s death, the hubby and I accompanied T to his cross country meet.

He and four schoolmates made it to round 2, where T would compete with the Top 40 Grade 4 boys from four quadrants that competed separately in round 1 – his first time in the second round.

The hubby and I already had the day off so I was able to attend T’s meet for the first time since he started doing cross country three years ago.

The bad news is T did not finish in the Top 20 and didn’t advance to the final city-wide race.

He was disappointed but it quickly wore off. However, he did very well still! 40th place and only 20 seconds behind the 20th place. That’s amazing!

I cherished being there that day, to see T play with classmates and random dogs, to see him ask for good luck hugs from the hubby as he waited at the starting line, to see his face light up when we screamed and jumped as he ran past us at the cheering line mid route, and to be there for him at the finish line.

Like a book or a cross country race, our life story has a beginning and an end. These are certain.

The middle is less certain, despite educated guesses, statistics, hopes, fears and fleeting successes and challenges.

And that’s what makes life so worthwhile.

Running for Life: “I’m Not a Quitter”

Thanksgiving is quieter and simpler this year.

Two years ago, I hosted dinner for Ma and my sister; the latter had just moved in with us after receiving her terminal cancer diagnosis.

Last year, Ma was at the Philippines for an extended visit and I don’t remember if we even did anything for Thanksgiving.

So much has changed in just two years.

Life doesn’t stop and we keep moving, because we want to get as much from this journey before the finish line.

The start of a new school year means the start of cross country season.

For the third year, T signed up for the cross country team.

He enjoys running and the daily practice runs at school are good for him.

At the beginning of October, his school participated in the first cross country meetup of the year.

He did well in Grade 2 but not so well last year.

We reminded him to pace himself, to keep running and to make a hard sprint at the end.

The hubby took the day off and volunteered as a helper, so he got a front row view of the race.

T did great! 28th out of over 100 boys.

Even better, he qualified for the next meetup, the first time he’s advanced to the next round, mid October!

We are all so thrilled and proud of him!

Every morning, I play Wordle.

For the last two years, faith has been my opening word.

It’s something I reflected on through my family’s adversity. How do you keep going through challenges and have faith everything will be ok?

The lesson I’ve learned is things don’t always turn out ok. But despite things not turning out the way you hoped, you will get through it.

On September 27, 2024, after over two years, faith paid off.

This past Tuesday, T’s school hosted their annual curriculum night, where parents got to visit the classroom.

It was nice to tour T’s classroom and to see the strategies his CYW have put in place to help him be successful.

They are currently dealing with task completion and negative attention seeking behaviour – so we’re strategizing to find ways to help T.

Present day me is responding more calmly than me two years ago – so it’s nice to see my growth! 😆

T’s class were asked to write a letter to share with their parents that night and this was T’s lovely letter for us. 💕

Thanksgiving is quieter and simpler this year.

It’s just the three of us and the hubby is preparing a small cut of turkey breast and homemade stuffing; T is helping me cook Hong Kong Tomato Beef.

Later this week, the hubby and I will cheer T on at round two of the cross country meetup.

It’d be amazing if T made it in the Top 20 so he could advance to the final round: the city-wide championship.

Regardless of what happens, the experience in itself is the blessing.

It’s not always easy being T’s parent, but he’s the reason I run for life and don’t quit.

As we help him continue to process his FASD diagnosis, we remind him it’s not the finish line that matters – but the process and journey of practice, persevering and not giving up.

On this Thanksgiving Day, these are reminders that there is so much to be thankful for.

Sports as Social Medicine for Neurodiverse Kids

On the last Sunday morning of September, T woke up excited for his first soccer lesson.

T loves soccer and his CYW suggested enrolling him into lessons.

Sports is often therapeutic for neurodiverse kids, like T who has FASD and ADHD, to help burn off energy and to regulate their mood.

I also see social benefits in sports.

One of our hopes is that soccer lessons will also help T build teamwork skills and social connection, two areas of need.

T was so pumped for his lessons that he went to practice in the field behind our home before we headed off to class.

We ran into a neighbour whose son once kicked his ball into our backyard.

His son practiced kicks by the goal post on the other side of our fence for hours in warm weather.

The dad told T to keep practicing because his son is now in university in Portland on a soccer scholarship. 💕

A minute before T’s first lesson started, he blurted out that he forgot to put on underwear. 😂

But the class went well!

There were about 20 kids, mostly boys and 1 girl.

They started with warm up jogs then practice drills of soccer skills and then spent the last half of the class playing in randomly assigned teams.

Each team got to play twice.

Despite losing both his games, T had lots of fun and almost got a goal in.

He took the losses in stride, and I’m glad, because sportsmanship is a good skill to learn!

As we watched him play, the hubby dreamed out loud about T going to medical school on a soccer scholarship while working towards his first gold medal for diving in the Olympics.

I just wanted him to make it to the end of class without his shorts sliding off. 😆

After the game, we celebrated T’s first lesson with lunch at Dumpling King, where T finished a plate of his favourite pork dumplings.

The second class this recent Sunday also went well.

T’s team won the second of their two matches.

Even though T didn’t score the winning goal, we both cheered out loud when the ball went in. I may have screamed excessively loud. 🤣

I loved watching T’s eyes light up, hands thrown up in the air and big open smile and cheer.

I hope he learned that when he plays as a team, everyone wins together.

As we left the recreation centre, T asked to slow down so he could say bye to one of the kids.

As our car left the parking lot, he asked to roll down the window so he could say bye to the kids.

Cooking for the Soul: The F*ck Off Cholesterol Edition

When my family doctor asked to meet about my bloodwork, I knew I had to start taking cholesterol meds.

He let me know last summer that my cholesterol was high and we tried to lower it through changes to nutrition.

I’m a fairly healthy person – eat, sleep and exercise mostly well – so I’m blaming this on genes. My Ma and her siblings all had/have high cholesterol.

The call was scheduled during a recent work day. I brought in two big bags of chips for my colleagues and I to open after he delivered the news. 😂

If I have to start on pills – which he confirmed – I might as well put them to good use! 😆

Your Health Matters as a Special Needs Caregiver

Parenting is hard – even more so when supporting a child with a disability such as FASD.

The recent back-to-back deaths of my Ma, sister and dear friend made me confront my own mortality and the fragility of life.

In the rare moments I let my mind wander into darker thoughts, I think about the sad scenario of not living long enough to be there for T when he needs me most.

So I do take my family’s health very seriously.

But alas, this is a light-hearted post!

Cooking is one of my self care therapies and in light of my recent medical change, I’m making an even bigger effort to eat better.

I’m discovering just how refreshing and fun salads can be!

Who Knew Salads Would Be So Fun!

This mango caprese salad turned out well.

I chopped and tossed the ingredients instead of laying them flat on a plate as it’s usually done.

I blended Greek, Korean, Mexican and Indian flavours with this gochujang salmon topped on garlic naan with guacamole spread and served with cucumber dill feta salad.

This strawberry jalapeño salsa was inspired by an Instagram reel I randomly scrolled across.

It provided a sweet and spicy kick with the fried (with olive oil) tilapia.

As someone who grew up in the Philippines, mango is now a treat.

Served and tossed in this salsa with red pepper, red onion, cucumber and cilantro.

Guacamole was such a treat for me growing up and who knew it was so easy to make. So it’s like jam now. 😆

This time, accompanying an open face garlic naan sandwich topped with smoked salmon and egg.

Finding Healthier Versions of Comfort Foods

I made this healthier version of mapo tofu, substituting ground pork with chopped mushroom.

Yah, I’m going back to ground pork next time, cholesterol be damned. 😆

I made this Taiwanese fried chicken, garnished with fried basil, using an Air Fryer instead of frying it in oil.

It turned out great! So it’s a keeper.

I’m sneaking in this roasted butternut squash boat topped with chopped Italian sausage, onions and dried cranberries because it turned out well and my in laws enjoyed it when I made it for them.

Sausage is not the leanest meat but sometimes, you gotta enjoy life! No point living till 100 if all you’re eating is grass.

A Salad Surprise for T!

I’ve written numerous times about our selective eater T.

It is undoubtedly due to sensory issues – things smell and taste differently to neurodiverse people, especially kids still exploring their palette.

He eats a lot of carbs and fruit – and yes, junk – and gets protein through eggs, yogurt, milk, hotdogs, meatballs and McDonald’s burgers. 😝

One recent win was T trying and loving my homemade protein-rich Hong Kong Tomato Beef, which I now make every two weeks, and enough so he can pack leftovers for his school lunch with rice.

This week, we received a surprise.

His CYW texted us this photo and let us know T tried a plate of salad, provided to kids as part of the school’s morning nutrition program.

Well, what wonderful news! The salad consisted of peppers, cucumbers, romaine lettuce, grape tomatoes, celery, feta cheese and dressed with salt and olive oil.

We will take this win and add it to T’s slowly expanding repertoire of nutritious meal ideas.

Kindly ignore the fruit roll up in the photo. 😝

The Stories We Tell

Stories inform, inspire, and illuminate life’s complexities and contradictions.

Earlier this week, our team at work participated together in a learning and reflection activity to pay respect to National Truth and Reconciliation Day, which is observed on September 30.

We watched a short documentary that featured interviews with survivors of the residential school system.

My teammate who led the activity gave an important reminder: while residential schools are a dark part of Canadian history, there is more to Indigenous people – joy, light and a rich culture.

Stories matter. The stories we tell each other also matter.

I recently had the joyous opportunity to chat with authors Wynne Leon and Vicki Atkinson, the warm and good-hearted hosts of The Heart of the Matter podcast about writing as self care and advocacy.

Writing is something I’ve always enjoyed and found therapeutic.

While I studied journalism at Toronto Metropolitan University and freelanced for many years, life took me down a different path from writing, one I am blessed to be on.

Five years ago, I started this blog as a way to raise awareness about fetal alcohol spectrum disorder.

At the time, I was so pissed off about our school board’s shortsighted decision to cut T’s specialized kindergarten program.

This blog soon became a space to do my part to raise awareness, advocate and to candidly reflect about raising a child with great potential and a diagnosis of FASD.

One of the unexpected gifts was connecting with people around the world, including a food blogger who once worked as a case worker, an author raising a daughter with a rare chromosome depletion, a bereaved father in the UK of a wonderful autistic teenage boy, educators in Australia and Africa, and adults with lived experience shining their light to the world.

The rewarding moments are helping raise awareness, one person at a time, such as when a travel blogger from Indonesia let me know he shared with his mom about what FASD is and it made him think differently about unruly kids.

One of my earliest blogging friends was Wynne and it’s been fun to see our kids grow up in real time.

It was through Wynne I met the wonderful Heart of the Matter community, including Vicki, who writes compellingly, including about her sister Lisa.

It was a joy chatting with them both and we could’ve talked for hours.

It reminds me we’re all in this big, joyful and messy ball called life together.

It reminds me our stories are complex and that we are multi-dimensional.

T is not defined by a diagnosis nor do we live single-identity lives.

We have hard moments but we have many more moments of fun, joy, laughter and adventure.

As humans, it is convenient to put people into categories. I get it, we’re human and I am guilty of this too.

This is why the stigma of FASD can be so damaging.

On Friday night, after picking up T from daycare, I took him to Taco Bell to celebrate his perfect score on his spelling test.

I let him play on my phone while we waited for our order and he lost his cool when he lost his game. “Fuck you, bitch!” He screamed at the game loudly.

Yes, it was very inappropriate and I was quite embarrassed, but such is life with a kid who lacks impulse control and regulation, two symptoms of his disability.

As I continued to stand in line, an older woman came up to me and with a serious look, she asked, “Is he your son?”

Oh boy, here we go, I thought. “Yes, he is.”

“I want to talk to you about what happened.”

I had a long busy day at work and my mental and emotional reserves were spent, so my patience level was razor thin.

“I’m a social worker. Is your child autistic?”

“No, he has FASD.”

Her frown deepened.

“That was not ok what he did,” she said. “And if you don’t get a handle on it now, it’s going to get very hard for you one day.”

I cut her off, even thought she kept on going.

One of my triggers and pet peeves is unsolicited parenting advice. I have zero tolerance for it.

On the drive home, I was so upset and took it out on T by telling him about the encounter and reminded him this type of behaviour creates embarrassing situations for all of us.

T felt bad and burst into tears. He said he doesn’t know why he says those words out loud.

But we know why.

I felt really bad and burst into tears. I held his hand when the car stopped at a red light and I apologized for taking out my frustration on him.

I told him I wished it wasn’t so hard for him and that I know things can be hard for him.

It’s not his fault the world can be filled with judgment and misunderstanding.

This needs to change.

And we do it by sharing stories and changing minds and hearts, one person at a time.

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough: Riding Banff Gondola Up Sulphur Mountain

The big picture view always puts the small details into clear perspective.

On Day 3 of our family trip to Banff in early July, we took the Banff Gondola up Sulphur Mountain.

As it’s a popular spot, we reserved a timeslot ahead of time online to minimize the wait to board.

As someone who gets antsy of heights, I felt a tad nervous inside the gondola during the 8-minute, 700 metre ascent up the summit.

T took it like a champ. 😊😆

It was a rainy day so the visitor center at the top of summit, 2.3 km above sea level, was packed.

But the views were so worth it!

Even on a misty gray day, the scenic view of six mountain ranges and the town of Banff and the Bow Valley below were breathtaking.

Sulphur Mountain was Banff’s original weather station and visitors can take an easy 1.1 km boardwalk hike from the visitor center to Cosmic Ray Station, which provides additional panoramic views along the way.

Looking at these photos again make me long to visit again one day soon.

These mountains have seen so much over time.

Looking at them, in pure awe, reminded me of how small we are in both size and our time here.

It reminded me how simple life is for the wildlife that we spotted along the way.

Like this outgoing chipmunk – do you see it?

Or this family of mountain goats that passed by the visitor center.

Family, including found family, is true wealth.

We descended from Sulphur Mountain around lunch time and enjoyed lunch back in town.

We then took a short nap in our hotel before heading back out to enjoy the beauty of Banff.

There is no mountain high enough that the hubby and I wouldn’t climb for T.

We are thankful that on this parenting journey, we get to climb those mountains, figuratively and literally, together with T.

Soaking in the views at the top are so much more meaningful when we’re together.

Explore our Banff Trip

“Up My Butt!”

This is a wholesome and positive post, I promise.

Two weeks into the new school year 4, T and our family are settling into more structured days.

Some good news, T still has his Child and Youth Worker support for academic subjects.

It is very rare for a 4th grader to have this support and we are very thankful.

Evening homework is back and the expectations are higher. While there are tantrums, T is doing well so far at completing his work .

T is now starting to learn French. Good thing the hubby is fluent, so French homework is his baby as I have the joy of math homework.

The hubby and I are making a concerted effort this year to increase social connection for T.

In addition to swim lessons, the hubby registered T for soccer classes. It’s an opportunity to build on something he loves and to hopefully make friends.

I applied for the Big Brothers program. It’s a long waitlist but the goal is to match T with a 1-1 mentor, as this can help him transition and get through his coming teen years.

T’s love for dogs continues to grow and it is adorable seeing him approach strangers and politely ask to pet their dogs.

I reached out to a dog therapy program to arrange ongoing 1-1 visits with T. The waitlists for their volunteers are long, but it’s something we hope to add to T’s social connection toolkit.

I am using my limited free time to help advocate for FASD awareness, including participating on a recent virtual panel for caregivers.

I let T know I’m doing these activities as I want to feel part of the process. FASD is just one part of his life and I want to normalize it for him.

Halfway through the recent school week, his CYW let us know T sits with three kids in class.

Whenever a kid asks T where markers or rulers are, T would reply in his mischievous way, “Up my butt!”

His CYW reminded him to talk nicely if he wants to make friends.

Later that morning, she texted to let us know that the class is talking about SMART goal setting and T wrote down his goal all on his own:

“My goal is to make friends with my group. To use nice and kind words. Not to make fart noises. I will ask (my CYW) to remind me every morning before class starts so we can have a great day.”

😭😭😭

This kid makes me so proud at his purest moments.

On Friday, near the end of the school day, his CYW texted us the results of T’s first test of the year – 17/18 on his spelling test. And words are harder!

I have no doubt there will be ups and downs this school year, but it’s been a wonderful way to settle into cooler autumn days so far. 🙏💕

Drumming Heartbeats for FASD Awareness Day

September 9 is International FASD Awareness Day.

Fetal alcohol spectrum disorder describes the impacts on the brain and body of someone exposed to alcohol in the womb.

On Sunday, we participated in a community event at St James Park in downtown Toronto organized by Surrey Place, the wonderful organization that has supported T since he was 1, including completing his FASD diagnosis in 2022.

Lovely tshirts designed by high school students with lived experience. We got shirts for T and us.

It was great to meet self advocates Myles Himmelrich, RJ Formanek and Maggie May, the latter of whom is from Ireland, whose work I’ve followed and admired.

I joined Surrey Place’s Family Advisory Council last summer. I don’t have much free time but it was important for me to do my part to advocate.

It was nice to meet members and staff in person. I also reunited with T’s developmental coordinator. It was cool to see her 8 years later!

Left to right: The amazing Myles Himmelrich (left), Maggie May and RJ Formanek.

The outdoor event, blessed with great weather, included inspiring talks by the advocate guests and an Indigenous drum performance.

T spent the event going from one dog and owner to another and kept himself nicely occupied.

We then joined 50+ people, with an Indigenous drummer leading our group, to march 2 km to the Ontario Court of Justice.

T did a wonderful job keeping up. I spent most of the walk talking with one of the staff psychologists who supported T’s diagnosis. It was our first time meeting in person.

While T was marching and not paying attention, he walked face first into a standing sandwich board advertising happy hour at a pub.

I laughed at the irony of the situation, although the hubby had to pick up and carry our crying child.

Upon arriving, several people fastened a sign by the entrance to advocate for awareness and justice.

An important lesson I’ve learned in this caregiving journey is T and individuals with FASD are not broken nor do they need fixing.

With the right supports, they can thrive and we can increase understanding and reduce stigma. 

Community is important for children and caregivers. We are thankful to be part of a growing community.

With each connection we make, we help T understand he is not alone. FASD is just one part of him; it does not define him.

There’s a lot of work to be done with the school board, government and at the societal level.

Tomorrow night, CN Tower will be lit red to recognize FASD Day along with monuments around the world, as far as Australia (hello Australia! 🥰).

It is heartening to see awareness increasing globally. One step, one heart at a time.

T changed our world and we’re gonna work with him and others to help change the world.

After the event, we walked to City Hall and enjoyed hot dogs and ice cream at Nathan Phillips Square.

As we were putting T to bed at night, we told him how proud we are of him.

Then he declared he was not going to school today. “It’s FASD Day and I have FASD, so I’m staying home!”

“Nice try,” I said. “You’re still going to school.” 😆

The Boy with the Big Outdoor Voice

“Oh my God, when is that baby going to stop crying,” our 9-year-old said loudly during our recent flight home from Banff.

I was horrified and amused. The woman behind us burst out laughing.

Such is the life with T, who is never shy to speak his mind, even and especially when things are best said with an inside voice.

Like when we walked passed a man, and within hearing distance, he said matter of factly, “That man is fatter than Daddy!”

Or when we were at a McDonald’s in Banff and he stared at a woman sitting at a table with her kids then said to us, “Why does that woman have so many kids?” 😆

Yes, it’s part of being a kid.

Yes, it’s part of his exuberant personality.

I know it’s partially due to it being a symptom of FASD, which makes him quick to speak and act before thinking through cause and effect.

Impulsivity and disregulation can make a challenging combination for those caring for individuals with FASD.

It makes life unpredictable, in both hard and amusing ways.

Like during a dinner outing with family at a crowded restaurant and we asked T to try something and he said, “This smells like shit!”

Thankfully, Chinese restaurants are very loud.

As amusing as these moments are in hindsight, the hubby and I are also struggling with T’s language the past year.

Regular swearing – often times, a tic – rude language and talking back.

We try to work with him to address this, because we know if it continues, it will make it hard for him in the larger world, be it school, friendships, relationships and one day, work.

I can already see how off putting it is for others and it hurts my heart to see that.

But I do also see his big outdoor voice as something that can be channeled into something positive.

T is assertive and can argue with persistence for his point – and boy, is he good at bringing up things you’ve said in the past to his advantage.

These can be honed into strengths and personality assets for him one day.

As with anything in life with T, it’s a work in progress and we try to focus on the big picture.

We remember who T is at his core and at his purest moments – a kind, caring, funny as hell kid.

The “I love you!” that he screams out loud at night from his room to us after we’ve put him to bed is the best medicine for the soul.

As we start this new school year – how do I have a 4th grader already?! – I hope we can all work together to support his growth and to develop his big outdoor voice in a positive direction, while helping him develop a positive inside voice too.

Riding the Rollercoaster of Life

The build up often outlasts the thrill themselves, but boy, are they worth it sometimes.

Our annual Labour Day weekend camping plans were thwarted by bad weather and we kept it local and chill instead.

We took T to Canada’s Wonderland on Saturday, a beautiful day, our first visit in two years.

Going in, we told T that he wasn’t tall enough to go on the big rides – two inches short! – but we were thrilled to learn that now at 52 inches, T could go on all but two of the rides.

This included Yukon Striker, the newest roller coaster and T’s first big intense coaster.

Whoa! Adrenaline rush and excitement for all of us, probably me the most! 🤣

Check out this beauty: 1,103 meters long, a three second hold at the top as you stare down the 75 meter drop and a top speed of 130 km/h.

As we approached the lineup, my excitement turned into nervousness.

It’s been years since I’ve been on a big coaster, and my first time on this ride.

Seeing riders dangle at the precipice didn’t help. 🤣

The three of us sat at the third and most rear row. There was no way I was sitting at the front.

As we ascended up the long tall ramp, I gripped super tightly onto the bars.

I usually turn to see T’s face, because I love seeing the world through his eyes. Nope, the back of my head was planted firmly to the seat cushion.

When we reached the top, the coaster inched over the cliff and dangled us for what felt like an eternity.

Then it released us.

I had to close my eyes.

I heard T screaming, “What the fuck!!!”

Our bodies were thrown to the left, to the right, upside down then 3 minutes and 25 seconds after we started, it was over.

As we waited to disembark, I turned to T. His eyes were closed. He claimed to have passed out but he was being funny and dramatic.

But the ride did leave him speechless.

He spent the next few minutes outside the ride watching others experience the thrill.

The rest of the day was very relaxing.

T found comfort in going on the rides for smaller kids too. As I watched him spin around the baskets, I thought about how finite these summer moments are with this little kid.

This was also the first visit to Wonderland when he chose to go on the rides with me, as he usually liked to sit with his daddy instead.

I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t make me feel especially loved.

Wonderland would not be complete without funnel cake topped with strawberry syrup and ice cream at the end of the day.

T spent the following day watching POV (point of view) videos on YouTube of Yukon Striker.

As I watched him through my sleepy eyes, I thought about the roller coaster of our lives.

We spend so much time building up for shorter moments of thrills – be it work and the weekend, school and summer break, or planning and anticipating a vacation.

It reminded me as I get older, I am prioritizing life itself.

Because as quickly as this ride begins, and as suddenly as the thrills are upon us, it is over in a flash.

Visits to the Hospital

Parents want to protect children from hard realities of life but these moments can provide valuable lessons.

T has faced a lot of heartbreak for a 9 year old, including Ma’s death this year and my sister’s death the prior year; the latter lived with us in the last few months of her battle with cancer.

He’s also learning to process his diagnosis of FASD, something we shared in late 2022.

Most recently, my Aunt – my late Ma’s sister – had a fall and had to be hospitalized as it resulted in a small fracture in her spine and she needed emergency surgery or risk paralysis.

We delayed our recent visit to T’s grandparents in the East Coast by a day, so we could visit her and be in town for the surgery.

When we told T, he cried for quite a bit as he thought that she would be the next to die.

We reassured T it was a straightforward procedure with high success rate and that he could see for himself that she is ok.

She was admitted to a hospital in downtown Toronto.

We parked a few blocks away from the hospital and when we got out of the car, T noticed a store sign and shouted, “Vape shop!”

To think there was a time when I worried this child would never learn how to read. 😆

The hospital was located in a grittier part of the city, where there was a homeless shelter and many precariously-housed people in a park along the walk to the hospital.

While I kept a close eye on T, I didn’t feel unsafe. I feel it’s important for T to be aware of all walks of life, especially when he is aware of his birth mother’s life circumstances; and to be respectful and empathetic to all.

T gave my aunt a handmade card he drew.

He’s obsessed with the Titanic and has drawn countless images of the same pivotal moment when the ship splits in two.

A part of me chuckled that this was not the most appropriate image to give to a person who needs surgery for a fracture on her spine.

But as with everything with T, context matters.

The card and the message inside came from his pure and beautiful heart.

He held her hands several times and I know it provided her with comfort as much as it provided him with reassurance she’ll be ok.

We visited my Aunt twice when we got back, most recently on Friday night after work.

She was moved to a rehab centre closer to our home and looked so much better!

She is continuing to wear a neck brace for the next month as she undergoes physiotherapy.

This picture of our cat Kyrie with a cone gives you an idea of my aunt’s current condition!

I’m thankful things are on the mend and this experience was an important lesson for T about resilience and keeping the faith.

The Tumbles and Polish of Sea Glass

Picking up treasures on pebbled shores reflected the journey through life’s imperfections.

One highlight from our visit to T’s grandparents in New Brunswick was picking sea glass.

Wonderopolis describes sea glass as pieces of glass smoothed over time by the tumbling of water, waves, and sand.

As glass soak in salt water and get tossed against sand, sometimes over 50-100 years, sharp edges become smooth and glass take on a frosted look.

The glass originates from broken bottles, jars, dishes.

The photo below shows the contrast between sea glass and regular glass.

T spent time every day searching the beach by his grandparents’ cottage for sea glass.

I joined him for some of these walks as I enjoyed the soothing salt water air.

There were sporadic sea glass to be found.

One morning, we drove an hour away to Grande-Anse, a scenic town we visit every summer.

Some homes are right by the edge of the cliff overlooking the bay and look so tranquil!

There is a small pebbled beach next to a wharf where sea glass are always plentiful!

Each armed with an empty margarine container, we spent nearly two hours quietly searching.

It was good exercise for our knees and lower back!

Three generations of guys picking sea glass!

T really got into sea glass this year and did great!

Green, white and brown are the most common.

Blue is rare and red, orange, yellow and purple even more rare.

I found a beautiful lavender glass, which T took credit for when he showed his grandparents! 😆💕

We then enjoyed lunch at a side-of-the-road canteen, while T patiently sorted glass by colours.

For a kid with ADHD, he was super focused!

I focused on my cheeseburger and poutine. 😆

T noticed some blueish-white glass, which he put in the blue bucket. Just beautiful.

T’s Grammy bought a glass jar from the dollar store to display our collective treasure and gifted it to T.

The parallel between sea glass and FASD is not lost on me: shattered bottles, perhaps beer and wine, refined into sea gems as they’re also called.

A part of T’s life will be forever impacted because of prenatal alcohol exposure.

But his sharp edges can be smoothed with support, awareness and understanding.

Challenges that seem rough at the moment look and feel different in hindsight.

Just like sea glass can’t be rushed, life itself can’t be rushed.

Life is experienced.

This treasured jar will sit on the bookshelf in our family room. We hope to add to it over the years and for T to pass this tradition onto his children.

Swimming at Nigadoo Falls: An Off the Beaten Path Oasis in New Brunswick

Often times, the best activities are those known to the locals.

At the top of T’s list to do during our annual summer visit to his grandparents in Beresford was to swim at Nigadoo Falls.

It’s a beautiful, rocky and fresh water spot tucked in the woods, off the unassuming Rue du Moulin in Nigadoo, the town next to Beresford.

We parked our car at the side of the road and hiked a short 1 km trail.

There was a very steep and narrow downhill hike as we neared the falls.

Then the beautiful oasis revealed itself.

We first visited in 2021 and the view still takes my breath away.

The water was so refreshing and clean.

T, his cousin A, the hubby and I and had a blast swimming, while T’s grandad watched us from the rocks.

There are very deep parts within water where locals jumped off the rocks into the water – such as the brave individual pictured below from 2021.

I can verify the water gets very deep, because my ears popped when I swam to the bottom to fish out goggles that T had dropped. 😆

T has come a long way with his swimming skills.

This was the first summer we let him swim without a lifejacket, so he could explore the deep water.

I thought back with amusement to our first visit in 2021 when mischievous youth emptied a bottle of detergent at the top of the falls and created an impromptu foam party.

After our swim, we hung out by the rocks and enjoyed snacks, including Pringles for T.

A beautiful monarch butterfly hung out with us.

When we got home, we enjoyed a delicious pasta salad T’s Grammy prepared and I made air fried chicken thighs to go with them.

Wild Blueberries

We’re letting T run wild this summer, taking a more relaxed approach than previous years.

Usually by the end of June, I would’ve lined up worksheets and books from his teacher, to work on with T over the summer.

I did this to avoid summer learning slide, as I’m mindful of T’s FASD and ADHD.

Maybe I want to minimize our stress or I recognize that childhood summers are short, but we threw caution to the wind this summer.

And it’s been one of our best summers with T.

Every summer, we spend the first two weeks of August visiting T’s grandparents at their cottage in Beresford, an Acadian town in New Brunswick.

This year has been a mostly relaxing visit – although T’s increased swearing is not impressing anybody.

We were joined by the hubby’s sister and A, T’s cousin whom he adores.

One late afternoon, T’s grandad took the hubby, two kids and I to pick wild blueberries in the woods; not a farm, but a wooded area off a dirt road.

At a first glance, it looked unassuming but as we walked into the trail – past moose tracks! – the treasure appeared, free for the taking.

Bushes upon bushes of blueberries in the wild.

Now I understood why our niece told us to keep this place top secret.

We spent 90 minutes quietly picking berries.

T worked with his cousin to fill their margarine container.

He was so focused. I bet he enjoyed the sensation of plucking berries off the stems.

It was hot and humid but we all wore long sleeves and pants to avoid being bit by insects.

I was doing well until I accidentally dropped my container! 😔

I salvaged as much as I could and managed to get half a container at the end.

Check out the group’s total haul below.

Imagine what stores would charge for this. We were blessed to have picked these in the wild.

The next day, my mother in law and the hubby spent hours cleaning the blueberries.

It was quite the effort!

That evening, my mother in law made a delicious no-bake blueberry cream cheese pie. 😋

According to farmers, wild blueberries have twice the antioxidants of cultivated blueberries, because they adapted to harsher climate.

When I think about this summer, I see the benefits of letting go of the need to cultivate control and to let T be wilder.

To be clear, I’m not saying throw rules and structure out the window.

It’s about recognizing childhood is short.

Something valuable is gained when we let kids have fun freely – be it a deeper bond with grandparents, warm memories that’ll carry them through hard times, or feeling rested so they’re ready to tackle a new school year.

This is harder to do as a special needs parent, when you are always on guard and feel like you’re always playing catchup or needing to be a step ahead of the next challenge.

By letting go of the need to control everything, we’re letting our kids grow in the wild and soak in all that life has to offer.

In the end, they become stronger and hardier for all that lies ahead of them.

Playing at the bay by his grandparents’ cottage with one of the neighbour’s dogs.

Hiking Takakkaw Falls and Canoeing Emerald Lake at Yoho National Park

We saved some of the best experiences for last during our family summer trip to Banff, Alberta.

I intentionally kept our last day as a blank slate when planning the itinerary.

At the advice of a local, we spent the day exploring Yoho National Park, located an hour drive from the town of Banff.

Our first stop was Takkakaw Falls. At 373 m, it is the second tallest waterfall in Canada.

The uphill drive through the woods was calming and we were blessed with beautiful weather.

From the parking lot, it was a 30-minute and 1.5 km hike to the falls on a flat well-maintained trail.

We stopped at scenic lookouts and I still laugh at our fearless pest, photobombing his Daddy by not-so-safely crawling across the front of this bridge above the rushing river.

It was cooler as we neared the Falls and its refreshing mist.

What a beauty.

Our next stop was the stunning blue-green Emerald Lake, a 30-minute drive from the falls.

The bonus was that we got to canoe, an activity we lamented not doing at Moraine Lake.

The canoe rental shop was also cheaper compared to the more well-known Moraine Lake.

As we were lining up at the canoe rental place, I struck up a conversation with a couple from Florida, pictured above.

The wife had asked if we had adopted T as one of her sons was gay and looking to start a family.

She shared that two of her sons were adopted and from what she shared, I wouldn’t be surprised if they also had FASD or a similar diagnosis.

The conversation reminded me my family is part of a larger community. We’re not alone in this.

We had the canoe for an hour and it was enough time to circle the breathtaking lake.

It felt so amazing being surrounded by blue-green water and dwarfed by snow-capped mountains.

But wait, there’s more!

On our way out of Emerald Lake, we stopped by the Natural Bridge, a natural rock formation that spans the Kicking Horse River.

We let T explore as we enjoyed the calming sound of the water and the refreshing breeze.

I love this photo below of T standing on the solid bridge looking out to the rushing river as it’s a symbol of grit against life’s turbulence.

T spotted many dogs during our trip. Most owners let T play with their dogs.

This photo below with this beautiful husky was my favourite from our trip.

After a busy day, we relaxed at our hotel and took a short late afternoon nap.

For our final night, the hubby and I treated ourselves to a steak dinner, as Alberta is reputed for its superb beef.

The steak dinner and the sides of grilled mushrooms and truffle Mac and Cheese were yum.

We enjoyed one final sunset walk along Banff Avenue, feeling grateful for our time here.

When we got back to the hotel, I noticed this lovely note below that T had written, unprompted, for the staff while the hubby and I were napping.

Yes, we had annoying and disregulated moments during our trip with T, but as this note reminded me, he is a pure and kind child at his core.

A positive way to end our final evening in Banff.

Explore our Banff Trip