An open letter to Premier Ford

Dear Premier Ford,

Almost exactly a year ago, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy in beautiful Toronto, Ontario-- the city and province my partner and I have called home for most of our lives.

It was a different Ontario then. It wasn't perfect-- not by a long stretch-- but with the help of our government, we had come a long way in making it a kinder and more compassionate place for its inhabitants. Prescription drugs were free for kids, childcare was about to become (almost, sort of) free and we were placing value on taking care of the environment, taking care of our bodies, taking care of each other. It was a province that I was proud to raise my perfect, innocent son in. I felt that he was in good hands.

But then, you got elected and I don't think that anymore. Many nights I have sat up in bed wide-eyed, wondering where it all went wrong, wondering why our gentle home had suddenly become somewhere that I don't even recognize. Becoming a mother changed me in a lot of ways, and fear and anxiety about the future have been a big part of the package. You don't know me, but you're the reason I can't sleep when I read the news.

Before you start hurling insults and calling me names, let me first say that this isn't about politics. True, I did not vote for you or your brother, and I have never supported your party. You might write me off as one of those "downtown elites" you scorn, but you'd be wrong. Sure, I'm a leftie, but I work in the private sector, I drive a car and I use that same car to frequent my local Tim Horton's drive-thru almost daily. I grew up in Etobicoke, the heart of Ford Nation, and my parents still own a house there.

And yes, I understand that there was a growing appetite for fiscal restraint and that the previous government was seen as tired and out of touch. People like fresh ideas sometimes, and I don't begrudge you and your supporters your lower gas prices or even your buck-a-beer. As the young people say, you do you.

What I don't understand though is why my son, before he even takes his first steps, has been thrust into a world that has, almost overnight, become a petty, vindictive, mean place. I don't understand why you couldn't just ignore our municipal representatives who rejected you, you had to cut them off at the knees. I don't understand why your disdain for making the planet safer and healthier for our children and grandchildren is so strong you're willing to wage a costly legal battle to get your way. I don't understand why anyone who disagrees with you isn't just different, they're wrong or stupid or they don't get it. These are not lessons I want to teach my son.

In two short months, you and your government have told people who are less fortunate to just go out and get a job. You've told families that schools are not important to you, because the environment is not important to you and now there's no way to pay to maintain the places where our children learn and grow. You've told those same children that they don't need to learn that no means no or that not everyone has a mommy and a daddy or that being bullied is not normal and it is not okay.

In time, I will teach my son how to stand up to bullies. I will teach him to walk away when he can and to defend himself fairly and with conviction when he cannot. I will teach him that he should be true to himself and loyal to his friends, that it's more important to be kind than it is to be the best, and that when you do the right thing, the bullies don't win.

However, there's a little problem with that now. You, sir, are a bully. And worse, you're not a bully on the playground that my son can walk away from, you're a bully with power and you're a bully that wins. I'll tell my son to be thoughtful and take his time making decisions, but you'll tell him to act now, think later. Instead of respect, you'll teach anger. While I will advocate for fairness and compromise, you will favour revenge. Again, these are not the lessons I wanted. This is not the world I wanted.

I'd like to remind you that you ran, and won, on a campaign of being "For the People." You have always said that you stand up for the Average Joe, the little guy. Taken at face value this is admirable, but respectfully, Mr. Ford, I ask you this: What about our littlest citizens, the ones who haven't yet been given a chance to make sense of their existence and who didn't get a choice in the hands they were dealt? In this harsh, nasty world you have created, where bullies do indeed win, who is going to stand up for them?

Everybody's working on the weekend: On (not) having it all

Okay, so it's been a while. We had Mother's Day, and then we had a really short spring and now we're into the thick of summer. In a few days, Ethan will be 11 months and then the countdown begins to his first birthday.

We've had a wild ride and more twists and turns are on the horizon. September not only marks the end of Ethan's first year of life, but the beginning of a new adventure: Daycare.

I could write a whole post about everything that's wrong with the child care system in Ontario, and in particular in Toronto. I could go on for days and days about the painful process of getting on lists almost as soon as you pee on a stick, only to still find yourself 20th on the list when your preferred date rolls around. I could complain about how centres will offer you a space two months early, assuming that anyone and everyone can just plunk down a few grand for a daycare space they don't even need.

But, this blog isn't about politics or flawed management or social justice, it's about me and my son and our journey together, and for that reason I am going to share our story.

I spent most of my pregnancy at a fantastic company where I was able to do interesting work with great colleagues without burning the candle at both ends and putting unnecessary stress on my mind and my body. However, as luck would have it, this role was a fixed contract, and once I went on my maternity leave in September, my job ended. I told myself at the time that I would figure it out when I was ready, that I would decide "later" whether I would look for a job when my year of EI was up or if I would take some extra time off to be a stay at home mom.

I realized pretty early on that I was not going to be ready to resume a full-time downtown PR job once the year wrapped up. My career has seen its fair share of ups and downs, and taking on a new job with new pressures and responsibilities while also managing drop-offs, pickups and daycare bugs wasn't going to start me off on the greatest foot. I wanted to be home for Ethan, to have his meals on the table at a reasonable hour and to not be constantly rushing or going through the motions. He's only little for so long, I thought. I should take this time while I can!

But, I had a nagging feeling that I had some unfinished business when it came to my career and I began feeling anxious about leaving it all behind. I'm only 31, and I work in an industry that's always changing, so I was nervous about walking away for a few years and potentially finding myself past the point of no return. I also enjoy the intellectual stimulation and creativity of my line of work, and once I came up for air a bit on the mom front, I realized that this was something I had been missing a bit.

So, through a friend who gave me a great opportunity, I started freelancing. It was a few hours here and there at first, and then became more and more and more. Now, I spend time with Ethan during the day, and when he's sleeping I take calls and read briefs and I work. I have a full-time job as a mom and a part-time job as a communications professional. I'm exhausted and I can't remember the last time I watched a TV show from start to finish. I eat a lot of takeout. And, I'm also the most focused, most driven and most fulfilled I've ever been.

However, as my freelance work has grown, I've also realized that self-care is super important, and this is an area I haven't been paying much attention to. I do try to make time to read and get manicures here and there, but without a lot of downtime I don't have much of an opportunity to decompress. This, I have come to realize, is not sustainable long-term.

Enter daycare. After leaping through some of the hoops I mentioned above, we were lucky to get a call from a local centre with a great reputation saying they had a space for Ethan in September. We had 24 hours to decide and after hours of emotional agonizing and writing out a pros and cons list (me) and five minutes of using logical reason (Dave), we decided to go for it.

Ethan will start in the second week of September. He'll transition slowly and once we're all ready, he'll go full-ish days, Monday to Friday, to give me time to focus on my freelance work and also have a few minutes for some "me time." Essentially, I'll be a stay at home mom, a working mom and on the whole, probably a happier person.

My curious creature-- he will RULE daycare!

I want to acknowledge that I am incredibly, incredibly fortunate. Fortunate that I work in a business where home-based freelance projects are possible. Fortunate that our family can afford a little uncertainty and that having food in the fridge isn't dependent on me being downtown 5 days a week. Fortunate that I live in a neighbourhood with good quality daycares and that one of them was able to accept my sweet little boy. They are going to be so lucky to have him!

But, like most moms, I have incredibly mixed feelings. While I am very pro-daycare as a rule, I am so nervous about leaving Ethan in someone else's care and I know for the first few weeks I will miss him terribly. Ethan isn't just a baby to me, he's been an incredible dining, shopping and exploring companion and I will feel rather naked going through my day-to-day without him. I worry that he'll be sad, and then I also worry that he'll forget about me or won't feel as bonded. At times, I also feel guilty that I didn't just plan to continue working in the evenings as I have been, even though I know intellectually this is what's best.

As mothers, we talk about having it all. This is a myth. Even with a balance that most people would describe as ideal, we are still always making tough choices and dealing with the emotions and stresses associated with those decisions. Polished Instagram stories and witty TV shows about #MomLife won't tell you that, but it is real and it is hard and sometimes it hurts so, so bad.

Ending on a positive note, one of the items on my list once daycare starts is getting this blog going again, so you should be hearing more from me in the coming months!