Brooke Takhar is a Gastown-based writer, performer, gossip-monger and Mom. You can find more of her writing at The Planter's Guide, an online magazine celebrating the finest things to ingest, inhale and imbibe, and on her blog, missteenussr.com.

Once a week, my 8 year old and I race each other to the bathroom (she always cheats), and run a very full, very hot bubble bath. I get in first because she needs to serenade herself in the mirror as she deftly takes off each item of clothing inside out and attached.

She pulls four naked off-brand Barbie’s out of a drawer and we start our "YouTube show" about two best friends, who also coincidentally turn into mermaids at recess, and the dolls get marched around the perimeter of the tub, dunked, flipped, swam around our backs, and my kid does her doll’s dialogue and insists in doing mine as well, and hates if I go off script and hates it more when I whip the water from the doll hair onto her face, but life is short and I deride so much pleasure in making her wail "MoooOOOOooom." The craziest part about this whole ritual is not that my child thinks a nude Mom and daughter show would actually air on YouTube ("don’t forget to comment and subscribe!"), but the fact that I don’t hate every second.

The reason: I am high.

Confessions of a Canna-Mom

That’s the most terrifying sentence I’ve ever written. Telling you this feels like I’m naked on YouTube. Mom jokes about wine and drinking are on t-shirts and every 3rd Instagram meme, but I am 41, cannabis JUST became legal here, and writing about this is scary.

Related: Stop Stigmatizing Canna-Moms

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I need you to know that I am careful. I only smoke a little, and only enough to shut down all the scrolls of To Do lists in my head that never stop flapping; to blur the edges of my obligations and focus in on what’s right in front of me. It’s a mild high that makes me feel like I’m living in the moment (something other memes are always yelling at me to do), and my daughter doesn’t know, nor would she ever even notice anything was different. Except I am not scrolling a device, wiping a dish while kicking closed a cupboard door, signing homework or nagging her to do her reading. I’m engaged. I watch her face and see all my smirks and exaggerations tumble from her mouth, and I breathe. I breathe out everything that can wait, and breathe in this experience, this water tickling my back, this girl I made who startles me every day with questions I am not smart enough to answer.

Mommy & Daughter Bonding Time

When I’m high I’m not self-conscious about my body, a pale mountain of mistakes beside her, because she only sees breasts that once fed her, and arms that embrace, swing her around and keep the nightmares at bay. I accidentally created this comfortable and vulnerable space for us to constantly get to know each other.

This uninterrupted time with me one on one is like a magnet pulling out all her important questions and confessions and I shut up and listen. I have always known how to clothe, bathe, feed and discipline this girl, but I have always struggled with meaningful connection. I forgot how to play a long time ago. That quick two-pull inhale helps me remember that it’s not hard, and it’s crucial and necessary that I be there and listen to her with my whole heart. She won’t always give herself to me so freely, and my heart beats a little slower thinking about that.

Cannabis For Moms

Every stage of parenting is exhausting until it ends, and then you’re onto the next stage and then you miss that last stage desperately, and it’s no wonder Moms drink or toke. We are impatiently waiting for our babies to leave us. That is the second most terrifying sentence I’ve ever written.

One day I will tell her that I smoke cannabis and reassure her that the time I spent with her high wasn’t a crutch I needed but rather something I chose to do that made me feel like a better Mom. Some parents chase off the day with a drink, I choose to smoke, and however you choose to stamp out the raw spikes of parenting, I salute you. We are all trying to juggle being a better version of ourselves and the tools we choose to use shouldn’t be judged, but rather embraced. Parenting isn’t a race, it’s a marathon and cannabis helps lighten every heavy step of the journey.