It’s the long Easter weekend. It is absent so many things. A big meal with all the people I love. Eggs and presents and chocolate by the truck load. Dropping by to see friends. Long walks and drives to parks and conservation areas to play football or frisbee or anything.

But there is new stuff too. New games and new traditions. Space and time to have conversations we haven't had before. Quiet afternoon naps. Cosy evenings by the fire.

There have been a lot of firsts. Not all of them good or pleasant. Including working ungodly hours and amounts - but for a good reason and a very specific purpose. My kids have seen me struggle and doubt myself and my abilities and the feasibility of what we are all trying to accomplish and do. They have seen me get hopeless and struggle. I have asked them for hugs between meetings because I am tired and need some of their energy.

They have seen me workout in my basement - clapping and woo-hooing like a lunatic during a step class. They have heard me swear as I push myself as hard as I can during GRIT workouts and other forms of heavenly torture. All this is par for the course at the gym, but not something they are used to seeing me do.

They have seen Tim and I actively triaging our lives, work demands, groceries and our own needs during this unprecedented and exceptional time. They have watched us plan our trips out of the house with a kind of military precision. They have seen us coordinating calendars to find slots of time between meetings when we can do some reading with the kids and be available to help them with their homework. They have watched me laugh AND cry on FaceTime and WhatsApp chats with #MyTribe. They have seen me stare down my website and figure it out on my own because what other fucking choice do I have? They have watched their Dad leave a successful 10 year career at TD to start an amazing new gig at Canada Life ... and do it all remotely.

Whether I am helping them with their homework or not, my children are learning so much.

And so am I.

What I have loved most about working like a mofo these past 4 weeks alongside so many others is getting to know people in a whole new way. I have gotten to see and hear parts of their lives they previously sanitized and limited to be "professional". The past 4 weeks has been intensely humanizing. Intimate even.

And I have loved it.

I’ve always been a bit more on the “open book” end of the spectrum but still, I’ve sanitized. I have, when working from home, furiously waved my hands at kids coming bounding down the stairs and shouting for me. I have shooed children away because I am 'on camera'. I have closed doors so that the dog doesn't come in and ask - nay DEMAND - to be pet while I am trying to facilitate a working session.

But I have stopped. I'm not sure if it is because I have stopped caring or because I simply do not have the margin to expend energy in that space or because the sub-text for all of us is that we are well outside 'normal'

On Thursday morning at my daily 830 line of business call, I was working from the dining room. Fiona was in the front room, in her giraffe one-sie, watching YouTube videos on her iPad with her headphones on.

And she was laughing. A lot. And loudly. She was laughing the kind of laugh that makes you laugh, even though you cannot see or hear anything remotely funny. And people could see me smiling - because the sound of my children laughing, that kind of noise will always make me smile.

And when I came off of mute to ask my questions or get updates or ask for help, people could hear her laughing in the background.

It was magic. I had a number of people reach out after the meeting and say how they loved watching me watch and listen to her. That the noise she brought to the call gave them a kind of energy that fuelled them for the rest of the day.

But I love this video of me trying my hand at cutting my sons hair. I love his questions. I love the stream of consciousness commentary from my daughter (VERY on-brand). I love that I am still wearing my sweaty workout gear. I love that the camera person Fiona keeps cutting to the dog, Stella. This is my life and the backdrop for my work and brings a whole new meaning to the idea of bringing your whole self to work.

Authenticity is largely defined by what it is not. Not sanitizing or air-brushing. Not sugar-coating or pulling-punches. Not segmenting your life and yourself into so many compartments you get confused as to which version of yourself you are supposed to be.

My side hustle will never be as a hair dresser or a barber - but the first time went better than anyone thought. Myself included.