Busy, busy, busy

So this week is what I would call a milestone!! 20 Weeks pregnant, that's officially half way there. Abigail's kicks are getting stronger by the day, especially at night, after an entire day of my movement lulling her to sleep, by the time I go to bed it feels like a party is going on in there.

End of March/April are incredibly busy. I am exhausted just thinking about it. I am the maid of honor in my little sister's wedding at the end of April, so weekends are full of planning, preparing, dress fittings, rehearsal dinners and parties. Not to mention in between Rebecca and her cousin Chrysler will be celebrating their 5th birthday only 3 days apart. As much as I am trying to remain enthusiastic about the most important day of my sister's life, I selfishly admit I am dreading missing out on much needed sleep. I know, I know.... I am little bit of a party pooper. And believe me there was a day back in the day when I really enjoyed the night life, but it seems that now I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to stay out past my bedtime.

18 weeks & counting

It's been quite some time since I've blogged, so I thought it's about time I catch up. We finally after many months of anxiously waiting found out that we are expecting another baby girl. We decided on the name 'Abigail Lauren Moquin'. I will never forget the look on Becca's face when we told her that she was going to have a baby sister. It was very exciting news for her.

Officially I am now 18 weeks pregnant, with 22 more weeks to go. I had a doctor's appointment yesterday, and learned I've gained 3 lbs. since my last visit. Again, I have to really watch my sugar intake. I'll admit that I have caved to cravings for sweets lately, so now I need to focus and get back on track. I've been feeling lots of little kicks, getting stronger by the day. It seems as like it was just yesterday that we found out we were expecting, and now we are almost half way through. Time is flying, and July is just around the corner.

Snake bite

I have been told that pregnancy enhances vivid dreams to a whole other level. It must be true to some extent... some mornings I wake up thinking to myself, 'What just happened?' Last night was one of those nights. There is only one thing I remember from last nights dream that clearly stands out.
'I picked up a snake, and for some reason I was purposely aggravating it. Tapping it on the nose, teasing it. The snake transformed into what initially looked non threatening into something barely recognizable. It's smooth head, was now full of tiny horns, and it's toothless mouth now exposed a mouthful of sharp fangs. It bit down on my left thumb hard. At first I tried shaking it off, but it's grip held firm. Then I grabbed it's head and squeezed as hard as I could, finally releasing it's hold. I threw it across the room and it disappeared. Clearly I was in shock, examining the tiny holes, in a perfect circle around the knuckle of my thumb. Surprisingly I wasn't in a tremendous amount of pain. Then I noticed something. Something I had never seen before. Each tiny tooth hole, had a very small fine feathery like thing sticking out of it. I tried brushing them away, but they were each imbedded in to my skin like porcupine quills. I plucked one of them, and almost immediately regretted my decision. It seemed that removing it released a toxic venom into my system, that swelled my thumb up five times it's normal size. When it started to turn purple, I then began to panic.

Weeks are flying by like days it seems. I am officially just over 3 months pregnant, and finally feeling somewhat normal in regards to having energy, and eating food other than bread, cereal and pasta. I am three months pregnant and already I am wearing maternity clothing that I only needed when I was six months pregnant with Becca. There is no denying that there is certainly a baby growing in there.

This is what makes my little girls day. It's what she looks forward to, who wouldn't? Her house is equipped with a big enough family for a full house, and every detail you could possibly imagine. We spend a great deal of our time setting up each room, until finally we can start our game. Often times we leave it set up, so we can continue our game right where we left off for the next day. This is what I want to hold onto forever.

Laughter

We had a wonderful family movie night last night, that was one to simply cherish. I have never heard Becca laugh so hard through anything as she did for 'Mr. Poppers penguins'. It was one of those deep hearty laughs, and hard to contain giggles that seemed to vibrate through the living room. It was contagious, you just couldn't help but laugh.

Baby Brain

I have some serious baby brain happening here, that I've just recently come to terms with. First and foremost, I am one that can't seem to remember to take daily vitamins without being pregnant, let alone in the midst of my first trimester, where we all have a moment every now and then where you'd swear you'd lose your head if it weren't attached. Last night we went to Walmart and I found a little container of gummie vitamins for Becca, more so as a reminder for me to take my prenatal vitamins, because Becca is like an elephant, she never forgets. Never. When we started the advent calendar for the month of December, that was the first thing that came out of her mouth every morning upon entering my room up until Christmas.

Needless to say, after I paid for my purchases, I walked away forgetting to take the bag of goods with me. Luckily, somebody was paying attention.

At 7am on the button, Becca came in to wake me up... 'Mommy, I need to take my vitamin now.' I needed a reminder, and it seems I may have found a solution.

I read today that 'The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.'

Singleton it is

So we had our very first ultrasound today, and it was somewhat of a relief to see one baby. Not that twins wouldn't be a wonderful surprise, and something I admit I have fantasized about, the reality would be so much different. I remember with Becca those sleepless nights, the feedings, the diaper changes, the fussy hours of the day that I somehow managed to auto pilot my way through. Now times those efforts by two.

But... twice the smiles, twice the first steps, twice the love. It would make it all worth while.

Really, I feel so completely blessed to have one single healthy baby. That in itself is a miracle.

Double Trouble

Officially today I am 10 weeks pregnant. I am so excited, and anxious for our very first doctor's appointment on Monday and even more so for that very first ultrasound. This pregnancy is a little different from when I was pregnant with Becca. I never once lost my appetite, and this time around I have my days where I can't handle much more than toast and cheerios.

I have just a small nagging suspicion that I could be carrying twins, another reason why I am anxious to have that first ultrasound. it probably doesn't help that Becca's been saying that mommy is going to have twins since she was two. Specifically one boy and one girl, just like big sister Dora The Explorer. And then there was the psychic... Silly I know... but she told me that myself or one of my sisters will have twins. Now it seems I'm seeing double everywhere!!!!

Count the small things in your beautiful life

My beautiful lovely girl is growing like a wild seed not only by the inches but in such a sweet pure sense of the world through her eyes. I have been given the wonderful gift of Becca sharing with me the beauty that often goes unseen, or simply unappreciated. It's the small things that make the big picture. At times I am left speechless, as I can do nothing but stare in awe.

The other day I was an emotional roller coaster. It's when little Becca saw my frustration in trying to get the house in order that she said so sweetly. 'Mom, if people come over and the house is a mess.... that's ok, your doing a good job'

Free

I've never felt so free... Soaring without limits. Without restraint. No rules. No technique. Just free. I danced this evening in my backyard like I was the only one in the universe. Alone and free to do whatever I pleased. In my barefeet and my long un-mowed grass, I was completely capable of anything.

I bought yesterday at a garage sale a CD of the original cast of 'The Lion King' on broadway soundtrack. Seeing as how for my birthday next Saturday I will be seeing 'The Lion King' live in Ottawa I couldn't resist. So this evening I let loose, and felt so alive. It seemed as the sun began to set, and the song 'The circle of Life' blared from the player, the night life came out to dance as well.

A New Beginning

To my readers,

It's been a long while since I have actually sat down and wrote a quality post in my blog. Partly because I have not set that time for myself and partly because at the end of the day I am exhausted. BUT... I am challenging myself to a new beginning, and a complete and total change of life style. I have committed atleast 90 days to get my health back on track because I deserve it. My body deserves it and I know that in the end it will all be worth while. I believe that not only my life will change but the quality of my life will change. I would like to see myself writing more, and I feel like in some way I have found my inspiration and the funny thing is, I haven't even begun. My 90 days begins on my birthday of this year on Agust 6th, 2011. Why??? Because I wanted my followers to get insight on the habits I have picked up over the years, and see first hand the addictive qualites and behaviors I will soon conquer without changing a thing. Please join me on my countdown, and my journey to a new beginning. Thank you for your support.

www.bodybyvichallenge-michelle.blogspot.com

The 'Originals'

This was where I got my start, where I began from scratch my business as a home daycare provider. My little girl has grown with the daycare, and has shared a sister like bond with my two 'originals' I call them.

From babies, to toddlers, to preschoolers. They've grown up right before my eyes.

I have been thinking more about writing in these past few days than I have in a long time. I realize that I go through patterns of love it, love it, love it until I seem to hit a nerve that strikes an oh so sensitive chord within and then I disappear.

One Step Behind You

I used to follow you just one step behind, as you explored the world without fear.

Where?

Where can I go, where there is someone I know?
Where can I stay, where I don't feel like running away?
Where can I find, peace of mind?

Making meals for a three year old is tricky. Let me rephrase that. 'Making meals for my three year old is tricky'. There is not a whole lot of stuff that she really likes, or is even willing to try but I like to encourage her to try atleast one bite. This evening was a typical Friday throw something together last minute type of meal. For myself I thawed some left over Shephards pie out of the freezer, for Becca, we scoured the fridge together comprimising on what she could have. She wanted pita bread, agreed. 'Now pick a vegetable' I tell her.
'This will be my vegetable' She says, picking out a mixed berry yogurt.
We playfully argued back and forth, then agreed upon a carrot. Peeled, whole and uncooked. Works for me.
'I want olives!!!' She says excitedly. 'I love olives!'

At the table we had a discussion about foods we like and dislike, and olives happen to be one of my top 10 dislikes. 'Why don't you like olives?' she asks with such curiousity.
'I don't like how they taste.' I say. It was then that she poked a tiny little olive onto the tip of her fork, and held it out for me to taste.
'You have to try it mommy. I need to see that you don't like it.'
Sure I could have protested against it, and politely turned down her offer but what example would I have taught my little girl watching and waiting to see if I would live up to the one bite rule. Without any hesitation, I took the olive into my mouth and experienced the bitter salty flavour that hadn't changed since the last time I tried it. Nevertheless, I managed to get it down.

Conquer fear or let fear control you
Find the strength to get through
And do what you need to do.

It's your life
It's your decision
It's your dream
It's your vision
It's your responsibility
It's your choice
It's your feelings
It's your voice
It's your time
It's your chance
It's your move
It's your plan
It's your passion
It's your heart
It's your beginning
It's your fresh start

All or nothing, no regrets
So long as you know, you've done your best

It's been a long while. A VERY LONG WHILE. I will be back soon... and will take off right where I left.

Take the plunge

How can I find the humor in darkness?
The laughter through tears?
The relief through pain?
The joy in the lost desire?
How can I become even more passionate about what I care for most?

Meet 'I' the perfectionist. The people pleaser. So often I want to make others happy, I lose focus on what is important to me.

'What are you doing these days?' I am asked.
Instead of saying the usual brush off 'Oh, keeping busy.' I offer specifics which is a major step out of my comfort zone. 'Actually, I've been writing a lot.' I respond. My cheeks flushing bright red.
'Oh yeah? What are you writing?'
My breath catches in my throat, and suddenly I begin to feel insecure...'Oh, just some poetry and short stories.' Suddenly I wish to change to subject.
'Short stories about what?'
'Umm,' I stammer, trying to find the words. 'Stories about life experiences and...'
'You should write children's books, there is a big market for that.'
I consider changing my direction and again I lose focus.

My frustration is that I have no clue what kind of writer I am. The ironic thing is that when I used to sing my biggest frustration was that I didn't know what kind of singer I was or what style I suited. My need for perfection, began to peel the layers of my self confidence, and I lost the pleasure of performance.

But writing holds a whole new meaning. It has always been there... even after I've walked away for long periods of time, the desire has always tugged on my heart. I need to write in the same way I need to breathe because without words I am lost. How can I make them my own? How can I develop a unique style, different from everyone else and not slip into shadowing other artists. I don't want to be a shadow... I want to find my own direction. I want to find my own light.

I am like a student, learning for the first time. Testing the waters. I dream to not even think about it... to take the plunge, and allow myself to feel every moment, every experience and to share them with you.

It feels really good to have a long weekend. Really really good. I went to the fair yesterday with a friend (mother of one of my little daycare girls), and our girls. We had so much fun!! We started off on a few rides. Becca would get off one, then excitedly point to another 'Now I want to go on that one mama.' We had a little ride scare on one of the carousels. After getting on, we put the girls on a horse, and the ride slowly began. I saw my friend and her daughter, and it looked like a perfect opportunity to get they're picture so I pulled out my camera. As I waited for my camera to adjust, there was a really loud noise... One of the horses became disconnected. The one that my friends daughter was riding, followed by the horse right beside it disconnecting. The ride of course stopped and we all got off... other than that the day was perfect.

This is a painting I received this year on my 26th birthday from my youngest sister Cindy. I was so moved by the sincere thought put into this piece of art, it left me speechless.







I love the symbolic meaning of the 'Lion', and hope to strengthen these powerful traits within me.

• Loyal until the end
  
• Courageous & faithful
• Hold your head high – even in times of conflict – conduct yourself with dignity.
• Trusting your intuition/instincts
• Generous & passionate
• Self confident
  

Clean Slate

A clean slate is not wiping the past clear as though it never existed or pretending it never happened. A clean slate is accepting your past, forgiving yourself, letting go and moving forward.

Sisters

My sisters...
I had taken for granted every day we lived together under the same roof, for the days we come together are few and far in between. These precious moments mean so much to me.

Ice cream kisses

Becca's bedtime routine usually takes about an hour. After her bath, there is potty, teeth brushing, tuck in, bedtime story, kiss and cuddle then finally lights out. Except one evening... Becca was not having it!! In frustration, I took a few deep breaths and sat down beside her bed for a talk. I ask her in darkness, 'How was your day today? What was the best part?'

These night time discussions have become a part of our night time routine, and also one of my favorite parts of the day. One night Becca wanted to talk about all the different types of kisses.
'Eskimo kiss' she said. We rubbed our noses together back and forth.
'Now a butterfly kiss' she said, as she began batting her eye lashes on my cheek.
'What about an ice cream kiss?' She beamed.
'What's an ice cre...? Becca licked me from my chin to my forehead, before I could finish my sentence.

Next time I think I will pass on the ice cream.

Serenity Prayer

I wish for my life to go according to your plan.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

Just taking in that nice hot cup of coffee.... and savoring the silence before the stampede rushes in.

Do you believe in magic?

While tucking Becca in for bed this evening, she was beyond exhausted. 'I liked the magic show' she said, yawning and rubbing her eyes, before turning over to go right to sleep. The magic show... yes... I noticed the signs in the park as soon as we arrived around 9:30am. 'KIDS SHOW 11am'. We stuck around, I thought Becca and the daycare kids might enjoy a little entertainment. They're eyes lit up when the magician asked 'Do you believe in magic?'

The kids were all amazed at one trick in which the magician had a clover, closed in his hand, and when he opened his hand again, sparks flew and the clover was gone. They loved it... and that was the talk of the afternoon. 'How did he do that?'
'I don't know', I said. 'I guess it's just... magic.'

It brought back incredible memories for me... I remember walking into a magic store and the guy behind the counter called me and my sister over and showed us two foam balls in his hand. He squeezed his hand shut and asked my sister to do the same, and when he opened his hand there was only one ball, and the other was in my sisters. I was awestruck.

Echo

'Do you want to echo with me mamma?' Becca beamed enthusiastically. Before I could respond she shouts to the world. 'HELLO.' She looks at me waiting. 'Now you echo.'
'Hello', I say loud enough to be heard from the other side of the street.
'Not like that mommy. You need to say it louder, and look up to the sky like this.' She says, pointing her face upwards. 'HELLO'.
I look up to the sky and give one big 'HELLO'. Surprisingly it made me feel really good, even though I felt a bit silly. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, smiling from ear to ear, as she wrapped her arms around me tightly. 'You did it.'

Nature's Beauty

My job is full of the unexpected surprises. Teachable moments are everywhere... Outdoors is where it all is. We spend so much time exploring, observing, touching. We play with textures (sand/water/stones/soil..etc.) We lift up rocks and watch the little ant families scramble around, lifting all the little eggs to safety. 'Did you know that ants can carry 30 times their body weight?'

We have now started toad hunting... because they really love our garden. We've found toads as small as a dime and toads as big as a mini hamburger. The children are now spotting them on their own, carfefully placing them in a bucket to observe for a few minutes, and then feeling pleasure in letting them go. 'Good-bye little toad. Come again later. We will miss you.'

When you really pay attention to nature, and all of it's beauty... you see for the first time what is just so easily overlooked.

Just the simple pleasure of seeing a child's face light up... as they see firsthand a toad, an ant, dragonfly, snake, catapillar...or just anything and everything that can't be learned from television or reading books, but seeing it up close and personal in their own natural habitat... is worth getting my hands a little dirty for.

Out of place

I consider myself really lucky to have never experienced the pain of breaking any bones, or any other serious pain inflicted injury. To date; the only thing that comes to mind is the gash between my eyes when I was three which I remember very vaguely, the brick that was thrown at my head when I was about seven or eight, and well the contractions I felt before my epidural with Becca. Lucky... I would have to say.

Today, while I was at the park with Becca she asked to go in the swings. Routinely I picked her up and placed her in the swing, and carried on a conversation with another mother, when a little girl suddenly broke free of her fathers grasp and ran right into the path behind Becca's swing. I made a grab for it with a very awkward twist in my arm, that when the swing stopped mid swing the force ripped my shoulder right out or it's socket. The pain was unreal for a couple seconds, until I threw my shoulder back in an attempt to pull myself together before I made a big scene. It worked. Without skipping a beat I continued on with my conversation as though nothing had happened, and thanked my lucky stars... for only a couple seconds of suffering.

A great day

After much venting yesterday, I neglected to mention the highlights.
We had a wonderful Saturday, packed full of activity. I have been introducing myself to a few other daycare providers in this area, as when you work from home... it takes more work to socialize and stay connected. I came across an ad for a new daycare looking to launch by September, and I thought 'What a great opportunity to introduce myself.' And so we had emailed each other back and forth for several weeks, before we decided that we should meet with the kids at the park. Perfect. Her daughter is just one year older than Becca. What made this little meet up so incredibly wonderful, was just the simplicity of being so thoughtful. Upon meeting everyone I can't help but ask 'Do you like coffee?' It is just one thing I love to sip on... and I enjoy making it for anyone and everyone. It is like my social, ice breaker.
When she arrived with her family, right away we recognized each other from our exchanged photos. Her family looked even more beautiful in person. 'Because you like coffee so much, we picked you up one from Tim Horton's.' A wonderfully delicious black coffee with all the fixings on the side. Now... that was just fantastic. Just the thought... Made my day! After chatting for over an hour, and letting the children run free we went our separate ways... and both agreed... we must get together again very soon.

This week, I made plans with Christine (mother of one of Becca's little daycare friends) to take the girls to the Avenmore fair. After my little meet up at the park, on the way home Christine came by to pick us up. Perfect timing.
It was great. The girls went on a few rides, got to feed some animals, and had a private puppet show.

When I got home, I received a phone call from my sister Patti. She wanted a date night, and asked if I could Babysit. Seeing as how Becca has been talking non stop about getting together with Chrysler and Hudson very recently... I jumped at it. 'Bring em' on over'.

They're stay went by too fast. I took them all to the park, gave them a fun princess bath (that even Hudson enjoyed) and finished with a lovely bedtime story. I set up the playpen for Hudson, and the cot in Becca's room for Chrysler. I told the girls that once I put them to bed, that they need to stay on their beds, and if I heard them up and playing I would move Chrysler's bed out of the room. I couldn't help but smile to myself when I turned out the lights and shut the door, to hear Chrysler say to Becca, 'Becca, wanna play?'
In which Becca responded, 'No Chrysler. Mommy said if she hears us playing, she will take your bed out of my room.'
Followed by complete silence, until Patti came to pick up her two sleeping beauties.

So the day was indeed... a great day.

Venting... thanks for reading.

I couldn't have asked for a better neighborhood to raise a family. It's peaceful, quiet, and so amazingly beautiful. I still shake my head of this reality. Am I dreaming?

But today... I was just... let's say speechless. I took Becca out for our early morning walk around 8am, the weather was perfect. A nice breeze swept through Riverdale, and kept the heat at bay. We were the first to arrive at the park, as it gets really busy between 9:30-10am, and what I saw made my anger boil.

We have an amazing park that draws in people from all over the city, it's maybe one of the only parks in Cornwall with plenty of shade and space to run around. I am at that park for hours with Becca and the daycare kids almost every day.

But today... there was litter like I have never seen. The entire park was littered with bottles, cans and garbage. Before anyone else arrived, I did a clean up. There was a whiskey bottle that had been shattered, and broken glass lay everywhere. Shards of glass mixed in with the stones beneath the structure. I picked up all that I could find, and warned all the mothers to watch out around that area, as the kids like to fill their buckets with the pebbles.

That is just the tip of the ice burg. I am just so frustrated with the lack of respect for our beautiful neighborhood. Not just the teenagers who partied in the park last night, but the fact that even though the cops were called nothing happened, and I shouldn't have had to encounter that mess this morning...that was very unsafe for children.

While I am on the subject of disrespect, there is yet one more thing I need to vent.
PEOPLE WHO OWN A DOG... AND CAN'T PICK UP AFTER THEM... SHOULDN'T OWN A DOG!!
It has been bad this past week. The amount of dog poop left on our sidewalks, is disgusting. Not only that, but there is an overwhelming number of people who can't read signs apparently. 'NO DOGS ALLOWED IN PARKS'!!
I took Becca, my niece and nephew to the park this evening after supper to burn off that last bit of energy and while we were there, there were three dogs at the park. Becca & Chrysler saw this adorable little black pug puppy and went to run over and pet it, just as it started to take a dump in the stones by the structure. The puppy's owner ran out to save my girls from stepping in her dogs crap by burying it in the stones with her foot.

I am angry at myself for not speaking up... and sometimes wish I had a bit of a backbone. As the park began to clear and as I packed up my last sand toy. I pulled a plastic bag from my pack, and set off to clean one last mess for the day.

Magic Beans

After supper this evening I sat out on the front porch with Becca to take in another hour of sun before dark. While we were sitting outside Becca started picking up these tiny little seeds on the ground. She wanted to plant them.
'Where is my watering can?' She asks. 'I need to plant these magic beans.'
She knows how to bring a smile to my face.

I managed to pull out half of the weeds in my garden... It's starting to look a little better. It felt really good to dig my hands deep into the cool earth. It filled me with a sense of being, relaxation... and in some strange way.. It's beautiful.

Bee Gone... with you.

I harassed my first wasp nest when I was six years old. It was before I knew what it was like to be stung. I was fearless of the unknown. I knew that there was a nest located in the shed, and so like a brave warrior ready for battle, my weapon of choice; a stick. With all my might I whacked the shed with my stick and challenged these wasps for a face off. They emerged from their nest more quickly than I could count. I began to swing, trying to wipe them out one by one, but there were simply just way too many for me to handle, alone. I ended up getting stung once, right between the eyes.

Since that defining moment of my first bee sting... I have been stung several times in the most unexpected moments, where either myself or the bee was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I never actually began to fear bees until Becca was born. I could not stop myself. In a panic, I would scoop Becca up in my arms and make a run for it. It was a horrible feeling.

Just this past weekend while visiting a friend, we noticed a very large bee hive hanging at the very tip of a tree branch about 10 feet above our heads. It was our mission to take that thing down, and I saw it as an opportunity to face my fear head on. My friend's husband began throwing rocks, wood... whatever he could find, while I stood behind him armed to two full cans of bug spray. I wasn't taking any chances.. I had a net over my head, and wore a heavy sweater even though the heat was scorching.

Enough was enough. After many failed attempts at throwing rocks, I was feeling the heat, and getting very frustrated. I grabbed the high pressure hose and sprayed the nest until it hung heavy with the weight of water. Hundreds bees began to swarm the hive, and at this point it was time to throw rocks again, while I continued hosing it down. I was discovered by a very angry wasp, and threw the hose to make a run for the front door, only to find that the door was locked. I turned to face my doom with my two cans held high... but I must have lost him. Thank goodness.

With three really good hits... the hive broke apart, and then came the spray. It felt like the makings of an episode of 'Billy the exterminator', only more entertaining. I can't say that we were experienced or that we knew what we were doing but most importantly: Mission accomplished. By the next day they were all gone. Anyway... That was my brave moment. It feels good to conquer fear.

What did I do?

I was visiting the water park the other day with Becca when a call came in on my cell phone.
'Hello' I say.
'Hello, Is this Michelle?' A male voice, that I didn't recognize from the other end asks.
'Yes?' I say hesitantly... with my mind in a flurry, trying to figure out who it is. Often a voice sounds somewhat familiar and takes a few seconds, but this time I had absolutely no clue.
'Hi my name is.... I'm from the Cornwall Police.' Go figure, I couldn't remember his name right after he introduced himself... What I heard was POLICE.. and it's funny that my first initial thought was 'What did I do?' And as my thoughts raced, and knew that there was nothing I could have done my second thought was... that regardless.. whatever this police officer had to say... would be bad news. I braced myself for the worst.

'I'm driving down Dover Street... and I have this bag with your name in it that I found hanging. Is it garbage?'
I can't even begin to explain the relief that released my body from a state of paralyzation. I knew exactly what bag he had... My bag of sand toys that must have fell from my wagon just the other day. I explained to the officer that I was out of town, and he offered to drop it off, so I gave him my address. Sure enough when I got home there it was outside waiting for me.

Obsessed

From about grade 7 through grade 13, I had a horrible obsession with my hair. I couldn't stand it. It seemed to be the only thing that stood between me and happiness or so I thought. It was always the punch line of the next joke...
'Have you been climbing up a tree lately?'
I had to think about it... because I was indeed a tree climber.
Innocently I responded, 'No, why?'
'Because you have a big bird nest on the top of your head' She laughed. Followed by the rest of my class. I wanted to think of something mean and cruel about her, many things came to mind, but I knew that it could really hurt her feelings... I didn't want that, even though she had crushed my self esteem just the minute before.

Just before I was about to enter high school, I was so excited to go to a hair salon for the first time (my mom had always cut my hair) I told her that I wanted a new look. I made the mistake of going in, without a plan. I just told her I wanted to look good. I walked out of the salon holding back the tears, and bit my tongue when the hair stylist asked 'what do you think?'

My first thought was that my hair had a striking resemblance to Elvis Presly. She had cut what looked like side burns, and she left a little length on the top that puffed out... and needed a tonne of hair glue to hold down, so my hair was always hard as a rock. When my hair finally grew out, I was still never happy with it.
I spent countless hours doing, then re-doing my hair, crying... and what became of my big hair was an obsession. I would have done anything and everything to not relive the pain of the constant teasing that followed me all throughout my elementary years, and so I began to pull. If after doing my hair, any strands or chunks looked out of place, instead of crying out in frustration and starting over, I would simply just pull the hair out from the root. I have lost count of how many times I've pulled out my hair, once I even did so, not realizing my sister was right beside me. When she saw the chunk of hair in my hand, she stood shocked. I hadn't even so much as flinched, when I had wrapped my fingers around a big chunk of hair... fueled by raging anger that numbed any feelings of pain... I pulled.

Every day I would curse 'I hate my hair'... until one day I realized, in absolute horror... some hair is better than no hair. On August 6th (my birthday), a few weeks before beginning my final year of high school, it happened. What I would define as the worst day of my life up until that point. I was camping with my family at Sandbanks beach when I decided I would make breakfast for everyone. Having never operated a BBQ before, I turned on the gas, and gave it a few minutes. I went about my business and got a little distracted, before I remembered breakfast. I picked up the small box of matches, striking one, I leaned in to ignite a flame. Only what came towards me before I even had time to react was a huge ball of fire. I jumped back. Relief swam through me, I was not burned. I wasn't hurt, but there was a very distinct foul smell. Burnt plastic? Sulpher? At this point my sisters had gathered around to see what the commotion was. Each movement I made snowed burnt ash everywhere, but I had absolutely no idea where it was coming from. It was my sister who pointed out, that my hair had been burned. My first reaction was to feel with my hands, only to see more burnt ash snowing all around me. I had so much hair product in my hair that my shoulder length hair in some places had singed straight to the root. What was left needed to be cut.

I went from fussing over my hair for hours to basically getting out of bed and going. Every ritual I had ever known, was gone. My hair, which had become my identity, was no longer a number one priority. After many many haircuts, and more then two years of short hair... I was letting it grow out.

Again, with all of the awkward in between growing phases... I fussed over my hair. Each and every day was an opportunity for a new look, and an up-do that looked as though I had just left the salon and was off to some special occasion. I had decided I would not allow myself to pull out any hair, even though the urges on some days were so strong and hard to ignore. What I craved was the attention and compliments, I would get. It was like shedding off ten pounds, and getting noticed for it. I was on top of the world, and now.. my biggest insecurity was now my strongest asset.

Fast forward a few more years...

After having a baby... surviving the first year, with thankfully not burning the house down. (making baby food, requires a timer. I realize now how easily I am distracted and lose focus) My hair was the last thing on my mind. I would save the up-dos for those special occasions, and mostly tie it back in a pony tail or wear it down. YES!!! Wear it down!! Big, curly and wild!! I love how it's not a touchy subject anymore. When I hear 'Your so small, and you have really big hair' I laugh and say 'I know'. Obviously... I see it in the mirror every day... It's kind of hard to miss. I think it's just funny... how priorities change. What was so important... is just not that important anymore. I admit though.. Once, very recently... I cried over a bad hair cut. I don't get it cut very often. It is now a tradition, once a year (mother's day) and this mother's day cut was a little disappointing... which really inspired this little blast into the past. As I lay in bed... that night, I began to write. I was very emotional, and I couldn't figure out for the life of me.. why? It was just hair, and hair grows back... but at that moment I felt so discouraged. After writing for an hour or so... I had uncovered all of those memories. Some had been long forgotten... but it was a trigger held deep in my subconscious just waiting to be found. It was a healing process. After all that emotion had been unleashed... I couldn't help but laugh.

Make the best of the worst.....

So we didn't get away this weekend like we had planned. Things happen. And sometimes they are beyond our control, but we just have to deal and make the best of it. So instead of moping around the house, we found ourselves on many adventures right here close to home, and did so on a great budget, I might ad.

Just goes to prove that you can have quality family time without spending a bundle of money... and the kids can't tell the difference!

So here you have it: Our weekend adventures

Thursday (Canada Day)
We spent the morning & afternoon up in Iroquois with my family. My mom, dad and all of my sisters and kids came out to enjoy a day of great entertainment & BBQ! Becca had an amazing time jumping on about 6 different bounce castles, getting her face painted, and dancing with her cousin Chrysler.

Afterwords we drove back to Cornwall and headed down to Lamoroux Park to watch the Fire Works!! I still can't believe Becca made it... 3 hours past her bedtime.

Friday July 2nd
We were a little bummed out this morning, as our plan to take off for the day, well didn't happen... but what can you do?
So we decided to hike it down the scenic route back down to Lamoroux Park, so that Becca could enjoy this beautiful day playing on the splash pad. Even I enjoyed getting a little wet. The most amazing part is that I have never been on any of Cornwall's bike paths, so it really felt like we were somewhere else. The highlight of my day... and 100% FREE, you just have to be able to appreciate nature's beauty.
All in all our trip both ways lasted close to 5 hours. I'm quite happy to be back at home to get in some relax time.

First Family Camping Trip

It's Sunday morning, the sun is shining and I am thankful.
I live in a beautiful neighborhood, surrounded by nature and the comfort of familiar smells. I have an amazing little family, a daughter whom I admire for such imagination, creativity and talent, and a partner whom I love and respect so dearly for all that we have accomplished together. They both mean the world to me.

Today we are packing up to go on our first camping trip. We will stay one night at the Long Sault Parkway. Becca is so excited. So am I. I can't wait to have this special family time together, because I remember so fondly that camping was the highlight of my youth. As a child I'm sure that I have probably camped every single year up until the age of 18. Now as we pack on this trip, I realized for the first time that I haven't camped out in almost eight years. So I am really looking forward to it. This is one tradition I hope to pass on and one that I hope Becca enjoys as much as I did.

Give

What I would give for your pain to go away
I'd give you the strength to face another day.
What I would give to see that smile upon your face.
I'd give you all the love I have to fill that empty place.

I was looking back through some old notebooks... Notebooks from more than four years ago when I used to live in Ottawa. I would write fairly consistently in my travels because I always traveled by bus and I would always meet the most interesting people, so I never left the house without my writing tools. I wrote of this one woman, whom I spoke with who really struck a chord with me. What got our conversation started was a book that I was reading at the time called 'The artists Way'.
'That's a really good book.' She said. 'I wish I had read it when I was your age.' We talked for quite some time when she told me that she was approaching her fifties. What really spoke to me that I felt necessary to write down was when this complete stranger told me that 'Life is not about caring what other people think, or shaking it up on the dance floor or looking gorgeous. It's about confidence. Believing in yourself and holding your head up high. I'm not thin like you, but that does not mean I am not beautiful. I know this because I used to be a size 3, and I am more happy now than I was then. Be happy with who you are and that is all that counts.'

To love... and be loved

I love you. I love everything about you, and I accept you no matter what... as you are.

Come back little toad

I can't stop watching this video... I took it last august, after I found a toad in the garden. Becca loved it.

Peanut Butter Kiss

I don't know what made me think of this, it came out of the blue and I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

I was visiting my parents when the craving hit... I had a really bad craving for peanut butter, which is a real treat I have once in a blue moon while Becca sleeps (peanut allergy). I opened the jar and was absolutely shocked. I've heard of the peanut butter with the peanut on top... but this peanut butter had pressed neatly in the center an unwrapped dark chocolate hershey kiss. I blinked my eyes once.. twice even.. and there was no denying it was definitely a kiss.
'Wow' I said excitedly. 'I've never seen this before.' I was in such disbelief, I called everyone into the kitchen to come and see my discovery. After a few minutes.. I thought how can that be? I started to look for anything on the jar that advertised 'The Hershey' on top. Nothing. 'Isn't that something.' I said.
'Do you mind if I eat it?' I asked my dad. It was only then that I saw on his face that he was holding back laughter the entire time. It turns out... my dad had planted it there a couple days ago, and was waiting ever so silently for someone to find it... I happened to be the lucky winner.

Safe Place

When I created this blog, I had no idea that it would be so therapeutic. It sheds dead weight, and really allows me to be more open and honest... Quite frankly it feels like the safest place I know to talk about my feelings, my past, hopes, fears and dreams.
I want nothing more than to share with others the journey of my experiences and the lessons that I learn along the way.

The writer

There was a time when writing seemed so simple. I never had to think about a story, and I certainly never hesitated putting it down on paper. I was a child with a wild imagination. I remember vaguely the first book that I ever wrote.
I was eight years old. My sister had given me a red book, that had a beautiful picture on the front of it. Looking at it, it looked like a children's book with no title. Inside there were blank lined pages. Giddy with excitement I went straight to work.
I wrote a story about a little girl with a dog named 'Ginger', who would climb into a cupboard to escape into a world of her own. A secret world, that no other person knew about except her dog, whom she told everything.

Suddenly and idea came to me.., I wanted so badly to share my story with others. I beamed with excitement as I made my way into the school library. I wanted to donate my book to the library so that the children in my school could sign it out and read it! Proudly I handed the one and only copy to the librarian, and she thanked me politely. Only a few short months later we moved, and I never saw my book again.

I would give anything, to see it again. I'm almost certain it would bring tears to my eyes.

Another story I wrote, came from a dark place. I wrote a story well beyond my years, that detailed a fear that I had been holding inside. I was scared to death of the wild thoughts that haunted my imagination. Creatures that lurked in the shadows, the things that I always feared, but could never see. Not everyone enjoyed it, and I had a really hard time with constructive criticism. I took my writing very seriously, and such comments I would take personally, like the attack was towards me as a person. I continued to write... and hear feedback that I welcomed with smiles from ear to ear and also with great frowns of disappointment. I wrote about everything... which very quickly began to take a poetic form. It was how I expressed my feelings, good and bad.

I remember once feeling so angry because it seemed that what I wrote about was always, too much of something. When I would write about something too sad, I would change it to make it sound happy. When I wrote about my blessings... I would change it so it wouldn't sound too self centered. It never ended, because what I was trying to accomplish was impossible for anyone. I was trying to please everyone, and in the process I lost what was most important. I lost myself.

In my deep frustration, I picked up my notebook full of poetry and threw it in the trash, where it belonged and never looked back. I gave up.

For more than six years I couldn't write... I refused to write, one single line of poetry. It was the hardest six years of my life. I had kept all of my feelings bottled inside, and many times exhausted and self destructed my body to hide the pain.

It wasn't until I went to college that the pressure finally burst from me like a shaken can of soda. I full out bawled my eyes out when I discovered for the first time who I really was. When I was given a choice of monologue to do... I always picked the one that would make me the most uncomfortable. The one that was leaps and bounds out of my comfort zone.

By the end of the school year, I picked the most challenging one I could think of. Everyone was so used to my smiling face, my nervous laugh, my cuteness... that it was unexpected to see me a complete mess. I prepared for that day for weeks.
I was sixteen years old and pregnant with the a guy who could barely support himself let alone a baby. I spent countless hours researching teen pregnancy. I rehearsed that monologue again and again. Even tape recorded it and played it in my sleep, burying it deep into my subconscious. When the big day arrived, I sat in my seat rocking back and forth, back and forth. Preparing for my role, even monologues ahead of my own. My professor Mr. Bianchin, turned to me and smiled. 'Michelle' He challenged. 'Your up.' It was just a few short weeks ago that Bianchin kicked me out, for coming to class unprepared, and I was sure the look of anxiety splashed across my face was a dead give away, that again I have come unprepared. What Bianchin didn't know, was that in my mind... I was pregnant, and more important than the last ten minutes of this class was how I was going to tell my boyfriend, or my family for that matter.

The classroom quickly diminished right before my eyes, and I was talking to my best friend. Telling her my situation... my pregnancy. My big mistake. My loser boyfriend. I went from disbelief, to laughing, to being really angry, to full out bawling like I was the only one in the room. Bawling so hard I couldn't even stop myself minutes after my monologue had finished. No one said a word. Not one peep. They hung on silently to the emotion that held them glued to their seats with tear streaked cheeks. While I cried, my peers were crying with me.

It began with one real loud hand clapping sound that snapped me out of it. I looked up to see my professor standing up from his chair clapping, and before long the entire class stood and roared with applause.

The whole process brought me back to my passion for writing. The only reason my performance was believable was the page upon page of character sketch I wrote about this girl. It was almost like I created her whole life story, and I knew her inside and out.

The program that I was in was 'Music Theater Performance' In which as a student you needed to excel in three areas (singing, acting, dancing)

I'll never forget the day Bianchin asked me, 'Why are you here?' as my grades started slipping in dance and music performance. 'I want to be a writer' I told him realizing for the first time that the acting had brought that passion back into my heart. Writing had become more of a priority for me, than singing which I thought I loved, my reason for being in music theater in the first place. Bianchin leaned back in his chair stretching, 'Well, I think your in the wrong program' He replied, holding back a smile.

Hope never dies

There is hope that the truth will be revealed in time
Hope that there is purpose. That there is reason to survive.
Hope that with faith is kept alive.
Hope that lives on. Hope that never dies.

Medow

Spring filled meadows green, sunrise wake of day.
Soaking, bathing, feeling warmth, dew drops fade away.
Whispered winds, sweet words of melody, sing your song for me.
Dancing, whirling, pedals opening, reaching to the tree's.
Golden rays above shine down, feeding strength to all below.
Beauty beyond words, as I watch my garden grow.
_______________________________________________

I walked by foot to the most beautiful place...
A place I would seek refuge, where I could be myself.
I wrote songs & poetry. I danced. I let my imagination take to places I had never been. It was like my secret garden.
It lifted my spirits, fed my sole and brought the much desired peace & comfort that I needed. I imagine this meadow of my youth in times of troubles, and it brings me back to the place that really let me be myself with no judgement. Tears and all.

Cherish

Today I will be truthful. I will tell you everything that I love about you, my fondest memories, the first time I reached out for your hand, the beautiful moments we have shared (perhaps give you a photograph) of the picture in my mind.

I will tell you that, I've always loved your affection, your love, and your support through all the hardships we've faced, and how thankful I am to have you in my life.

I will spend generous amount of time, getting to know you, because you are one of the many important people in my life. I don't want to speak a breath of word, but hear the sound of your voice, see that look on your face, feel that touch of your cheek, and hold you close.

I will cherish every moment because I love you.

Smile of the day

We had a great adventure today! Determined not to let the weather affect our big plans, it wasn't long before the rain clouds disappeared and the sun began to shine bright in the blue sky.
I had a little smile to myself, while we were out and about. I think my little Becca has a great sense of humor... she cracks me up.

Today I asked her,
'Do you want to go to Tim Horton's Becca? I think mommy needs a coffee.'
In which she replied, 'I think Becca needs a Timbit.'

I'm still smiling.

Happy 3rd Birthday Becca

Three years passed in the blink of an eye. One moment you were swaddled in my arms, with no sense of the world around you, the next you are off on your own big adventure.

Reflections

I woke up early this morning. Even though my little alarm clock slept in, my body seems to be programed to be up and about by 7:30. I peeked into her bedroom, just as her eyes started blinking to adjust to the light pouring in through her shades.
'Hello' She says, rubbing her eyes.
'Hello' I smile. She looks so beautiful, my heart flutters, and skips a beat.
'Can you come in my bed?' She asks
I navigate my way around to the other side, where she has already made room for me and holds the blanket up as an open invitation. I climb in slowly... testing to see if the toddler size Dora bed will hold my weight. The moment my head hits the pillow she wraps her tiny arms tightly around my neck, 'I love you mommy. You are my best friend.'
'I love you to.' I tell her, wanting to embrace the moment for as long as possible.
We spent a few moments talking about the plans for the day, and her friends. She tells me the whole long list of all her best friends, and I remind her that they will all be coming to her birthday party tomorrow.
'Yaaaay' she shouts enthusiastically.

We share a brief moment of silence, and cuddles. My eyes water with emotion as I think, 'In just a few days my baby girl will be three. Three years old?? Where has the time gone? She has grown into such a beautiful, independent little person. Just when I think my love is stretched to capacity, my heart grows even more with passing time. I realize there is no capacity for love, because there is always room to grow.'

It has been so far a beautiful morning. The coffee was already simmering, so I routinely grabbed my favorite mug and deeply inhaled the freshly roasted brew, filling my porcelain cup to the brim. I open the front door and decide that this coffee must be enjoyed outside on the front porch. As I sit, I reflect on this past year.

One year ago... I could never just sit and enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee outdoors. First off, our apartment was on the 6th floor... By the time I got myself dressed and Becca dressed to go outside, my coffee was sealed in a travel mug, to be sipped while running about my errands.
Our apartment did have a porch... which would remain unused, due to the pigeons, and all the little presents they left behind.

As I sat outside this morning, breathing in the fresh morning air, absorbing all the beauty that surrounds me... I am indeed very thankful for so many things.

Subconscious Thought

'If I sit patiently and wait long enough, the words flow spontaneously from my subconscious to my hand. It's amazing how therapeutic it is to reflect upon your experiences. Writing is my form of meditation.'

Art Show

My little sister had her first art show at my parents house in Johnstown. When I walked in, I had no idea where to start. To see the talents of my youngest sister displayed all together so beautifully took my breath away.
I actually at one point became a little emotional. I see her all grown up, and showing true passion for her art.

Amazing!!

Great job Cindy!


Visit: www.cindyarthurs.com

See for yourself!!

First day of Spring

First day of spring!! First day of spring!!
I always have my little checklist of spring things to look out for.

1. First robyn (This one tops the cake, it's funny I have yet to meet another person besides my own family who get so excited to see their first robyn. It actually becomes a topic of conversation... I saw my first robyn of the season yesterday) I made such a big deal of it because I wanted Rebecca to enjoy even the most simplest pleasures of spring. I swung the stroller around in the opposite direction of where I was headed, just so she could get a good look.

2. The Canadian Geese come back! I'm not sure why I feel the need to run outside when I hear them calling... Something about that 'V' formation is so appealing to me.

3. April showers bring May flowers. The flowers... Mmmm... I can smell them already.

4. Green. I look for anything green!! I'm just so excited I can see my lawn. It will be even more exciting as the trees begin to bud.

5. The smell of barbecue (who doesn't love this)

Anyway, just a few things to kick off the first day of spring!!
Happy Spring everyone!

Who I am

Going through my notebooks has helped me work through painful memories, and has allowed me to confront & destroy those negative emotions. It certainly has been a very interesting journey. Almost ten years worth of writing to sort through. I started journaling when I was sixteen. I had absolutely no way of expressing myself verbally, so I did it in the only way I knew how... I wrote it all down.

As I've matured over the years, I've come to realize that I need to be more open, and not keep all these feelings and emotions to myself. I've come along way...

This entire blog is not in the chronological order of my life. It is completely mixed and full of the raw emotions of a teenagers rage, anger, and struggle to find an identity to the blissful happiness of true love and motherhood.

As dark and angry some of these entries may seem... they all have an important significance in my life, in the same way the feel good, uplifting ones do. This is my identity. This is who I am.

Where is my love

A young girl dying on the inside.
Not strong enough to live her own life.
She meets a boy, makes changes in her big plan
She falls in love would do anything for him.
She tried something new she never dreamed she'd do only to impress him.
It made her frown, turned that smile upside down, she became depressed then...
He left her way... There was nothing that she could say or do but blame herself.

It's my fault he's gone. It's my fault he found someone,
Who can make him happy again.
It's my fault. It's my fault.
Am I not good enough? Where is my love?

From a small town with big talk, so many rumors.
They think they know how life's supposed to go,
Never had a chance, no one really knew her.
She shuts out the world, becomes withdrawn, lost the encouragement from her real friends.
No big deal, it doesn't matter, can't trust no one, no one understands.
What she feels inside. She built these walls to hide behind, and no one cares.

Am I the only one? Who knows the right but still does wrong?
Will I ever be happy again? With myself I can't help but think...
I'm not good enough. Where is my love?

She got down on her knees. The tears streamed down her cheeks.
She needed desperately to feel...

God please help me. I'm so lost, I'm so incomplete.
Please forgive, let me live...
Because I am good enough, under the warmth of your love.

Kind hearted stranger

'Anonymous said...

You don't know me. I don't know you. However I stumbled upon your blog and to be honest with you... It was captivating. I couldn't take my eyes off every single word you wrote. I sat here for I don't know how long reading. Reading such beautiful things. You are truly a beautiful person, and your family must be so very proud to have you apart of their hearts and souls.'

To the person I've never met, who posted this comment on my blog 'Thank You.' Just when I needed a little encouragement, you gave me that little boost that I needed.

Sweet Embrace

You are so amazing! Every day I learn so much by just watching you. Your eagerness to learn, explore and understand. Your undying enthusiasm, and the energy that you just put into everything is something that we can all learn from.

Somewhere along the way, we grow up. We forget what it was like to be children. To create with an imagination so big, to begin each day ready for an adventure and to live in the moment and simply enjoy it as it comes. These moments: good & bad, pass in the blink of an eye. I'll embrace every minute.

Rest In Peace

Faith keeps me alive, brings healing to my heart.
When the pain makes it so hard to breathe, it's tearing me apart.
I'm angry that you're not here, that you had to leave so soon.
I can't stop the tears that fall down my cheeks when I think of you.
You are all I think about, I never though I would see the day...
This pain has cut deep open wounds that never goes away.
I can't sleep at night this emptiness has left me barely hanging on,
it is you shining down on me, that gives me the courage to stay strong.
When I've had enough and can't take anymore, it's just so hard to bare,
I feel your love surrounding me and I know that your still there.
I love you and I want to thank you for the wonderful memories...
Soon my life will end, and we will meet again, until then may you rest in peace.

Take a stand

Why are you hiding? What are you so afraid of? Why can't you face your fears?
Take control. Be brave enough to stand up.

Stand up for yourself.
Stand up to what you believe.
Why did you decide so quick to give up on your dreams?
Stand up on your own two feet, when the world expects you to fall.
Stand up. Prove them wrong, that through wreckage you stand tall.

With You

With you I am home, anywhere else doesn't quite fit.
With you I would rather be than anyone else on the planet.
With you I admit there are times you get on my nerves.
With you I bite my tongue and carefully choose my words.
With you I can be myself. I can laugh, I can cry.
With you the worst thing is saying goodbye.
With you I am in love, my heart is in your hands.
With you I see 'the you' that no one else could understand.

I love you.

Leap of Faith

These are things I can't ignore,
feelings I have felt before.
I will not hide and let my heart die.

Lucid dreams leave clues behind,
the mystery of my life defined.
Inside my head, I try to decode it.

The light is shining far from me,
Be my faith and set me free,
I'll take that leap, if you'll be my wings.

The best is yet to come

Tomorrow is a new day.
The sun will rise and you will wake up feeling refreshed and thankful for the very air you breathe.
Thankful for the roof over your head and the clothes on your back.
In no way are you confined. You are free and unlimited in your abilities and what you can achieve.
Be motivated by what lies ahead. There is so much to look forward to. The best is yet to come.

Begin at the roots

How I would love to vent out all my frustrations and say 'men'.
If only he would....
If only he wouldn't...
but the truth is... Half of the problem is me.

Have I taken a moment to consider, everything I do and don't do. How I speak and the tone of my voice. How I make him feel?

Have I shown that I've valued his opinions? Listened, without interruption. Let him speak as though he had all the time in the world. Really listened? Really understood his every motivation and intention. Taken the time to know him inside and out? Would he think of me as his best friend? Whom he could trust, count on, and spill his heart out to?

Does he know just how much I appreciate him? Have I told him why I love him and how much I need him? Do I show my love enough? Do my actions speak for my words? Am I affectionate, complimentary and encouraging towards him?

Not enough, I know. Not for what he's worth, which is everything. I can't take this love for granted a day longer... I love you, and I am so thankful.

I fell in love with him, and in just a short amount of time I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I was willing to pick up and move, because I couldn't live another day without him. He was my inspiration.

He encouraged me to do things that petrified me, and talked me through it. His calm nature told me that everything would be okay. That I could take a risk, and he would be there no matter what, to support me.

He's caring. I learned that he was a family man, and truly fell in love with how he stayed connected with his family. How he made them feel better if they were upset, how he managed to get a smile with his incredible sense of humor. I imagined that would be me someday, and it certainly turned out just so. Only he, can make me cry and laugh at the same time.

He's talented. Passionate.
An artist with an exceptional ear for music.

And not to mention a great cook.

Years later, as comfort settles in and the initial excitement of something new has faded. Our love has been put to the test. We've seen tough times, and pulled through. We've laughed, and we've cried.

As time passes on, I am more grateful each day that I have such a wonderful life long partner to share my life with, and a beautiful daughter.

This new life we share as parents, has been the biggest challenge that I have yet to face. It forced me to look deep inside, and make some inner changes, and get rid of old baggage. What I hadn't realized is that it would take down an emotional roller coaster.

When I began to dream one night; a tree was revealed to me. It was a deserted tree in the middle of a clear green meadow. It stood alone, hovering limply. Lifeless. Dead.

Why am I here? I questioned. Why was I standing in this beautiful meadow with a single dead tree? The tree shook, and the last leaf fell slowly to the ground. The picture I was seeing was completely wrong. I knew it and I felt it.

The tears streamed down my cheeks, as the hollowness I felt crippled my body, I doubled over with tremendous pain. I let out a howl, and could do nothing but cry. In that instant a hand was placed on my shoulder. I looked up to see a man. He was full of light, and more beautiful than anything I had ever seen.

'This is your tree' He said. 'It stands hear as your symbol of life.'
'I don't understand.' I tell him, feeling confused.
'It represents your family.'
'My family?' My mouth gaped open revealing my shock. 'but it's dead.'
'Yes.' He said.
'What does that mean? How can the tree be a symbol of life if it's dead? How can that...' I was speechless. I looked at the tree in disgust. 'How can that represent my family?'
'It's not this tree that represents your family, this tree is in great danger, and this is not what I see for you.' He said. 'I see that you will find a way to save it, bring it back to life, and nurture it from that point on. The tree that really represents your family is what this tree will become, not as it is right now.'
'What this tree will become?'
'Yes.'
'How do I save it?'
'You need to begin at the roots.'
'The roots?' Now I was really confused.
'Yes.' He said, pausing thoughtfully. You see before this tree even began, the roots were damaged. So as the tree began to grow, it began to die a little more each day. It was neglected, unkept and forgotten about. But you see in order for your family, your husband and your children to thrive you need to begin at the roots. Mend what has been damaged and heal what has been hurt, and you then and only then.... will you find your life.' He said, turning, and adverting my attention back to the tree.
'But how do I...? I turned to face him, but he had vanished. Disappeared as quickly and as quietly as he had appeared.

I awoke from that dream, and found myself drenched in my own tears.
'Begin at the roots' echoed in my mind. What could that mean? I asked myself the question, and almost immediately had my answer. The roots!!! My family. My mother, my father and my sisters. I needed to mend what had been damaged, and heal what had been hurt, and then move on.

Cicada

Perhaps I am strange to be excited by an insect... but I just can't help but stare in awe at how unusual and amazing a cicada is up close. It's been years, at least 6 years since I've seen one. It was on a camping trip at Sand banks beach, hanging out on the top of our tent. We noticed it when we took it down. The alien-like giant fly never seizes to captivate me in wonder. An insect that lives underground most of it's life ( between 7-17 years) living off the water from tree roots, surfaces for a few short weeks of freedom to mate, lay eggs, then die.

It's rare to actually see them, but you can't mistake the sound of the male cicada singing high in the tree tops to attract the females. It's very high pitch, almost like the buzzing of an electrical appliance. Unmistakable.

So when Dave tapped on the window this evening for me to come outside, my first thought was that it must be that the toad has returned. The big fat jolly one that keeps activating the light sensor. I was mistaken. He lead me to the light, and when I looked up I saw it. A beautiful lovely cicada. My initial reaction was to pull up a chair to get a closer look, but I could not stop the urge to pick it up with my bare hands. As intimidating as they appear, they are the most harmless creatures. They do not bite or sting.

I let it crawl up and down my arm, fascinated by the picking feet on my skin.
It was like my inner fearless child coming out. Watching each of the bugs tiny steps, examining it's shape, it's body, and movement. It climbed right up to my neck, and we stared at each other eye to eye before it flew away into the dark night. How long will it be before I see the next one?

Deep

I give to you, the key to my heart,
You move me, with your charm.
I could spend, the rest of my life,
so close to you in your arms.

I cannot breath, I'm in too deep.
I feel you, next to me.

I can't escape, I'm bounded by love.
My promise is, I hope enough.

A new life

All around me boxes are piling higher. Our belongings, put away... until we begin our new lives in a new place. Just the thought of it, gives me butterflies.
Five more days, and lives will be changed forever.
The last few weeks have been insane. Funny how we've waited what seemed like years, these last few months, that when it has finally come down to the last few days, I can't keep up.

25 Things about me

1. Becoming a mother is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. My family is number one.

2. I get anxious if I feel isolated or claustrophobic. I like open spaces, loose comfortable clothing, and can't wear choker necklaces.

3. I have an overactive imagination. I used to like scary movies, and now they seem to make me more paranoid.

4. I am always trying to diagnose myself... I am afraid to see the doctor, even more afraid that he'll find something.

5. The scar across my nose happened when I was 2, when I flew out of my car seat at a red light.

6. Writing is my passion, but I hate that I spend too much time trying to make it perfect. Why can't I just accept it for what it is?

7. Half way through a song I suffered a panic attack with no warning. It took the breath right out of me, like I was punched in the stomach. My lips were moving but no sound came out. Everyone thought there was a malfunction in the microphone, and I didn't tell them any different. I'm afraid it could happen again.

8. I wasn't really stood up by a friend the night I watched you play. None of them could make it out, and I knew I had to see you. I'm glad I did.

9. I have vivid dreams of flying, breathing underwater, and numbers.

10. I loved being physically stronger than my youngest sister until one day over powered me with little effort, I can only hope I am little wiser if she ever needed help or advice for any reason.

11. I used to get in trouble for telling stories, now I can't think of any. Hopefully someday I'll have a good story to tell.

12. Almost all the birds I saved probably would have survived if I had just let them be. I felt so guilty, but I longed to feel needed and had to always take care of something.

13. Not sure I could live in the country but I love the peaceful serenity to it.
Not sure I could live in a town but I miss the friendly nods and waves, but hated the fact that everyone knew your business, and the ridiculous spread of rumours.
Not sure if I love living in the city because it seems so hard to fit in, but I love that each day brings something new, and I cannot predict tomorrow.

14. The only CD's I have ever bought are Vanessa Carlton, Fiona Apple, Evanesence, Enigmna and relaxation CD's even though I can never seem to relax. I am always fidgeting, pacing, bouncing my knee, biting my nails, thinking and working.

15. The harder I try to remember to close cupboard doors and drawers, the more I think they're left open to drive me insane.

16. I am moved by opera. It's sounds so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes and stirs emotions that touch my heart. I have no idea what they are singing about but to me it feels like love and tragedy.

17. I leave little notes of encouragement and leave them in random places for strangers to find.

18. I would love to volunteer my time to make a positive difference in the lives of others like someone did for me and my family.

19. It has taken me years to be able to pick up the phone to order take out, make an appointment, or leave messages on answering machines because I hate the sound of my voice.

20. I'm embarrassed to admit how much I would need to rely on a calculator to do simple math.

21. I wish I could cook with out a cookbook, sing like no one was listening, write there was no tomorrow and dance like no one was watching.

22. I've been thinking about getting a tatoo to mark my 25th birthday this year, but I'm not sure what I would want on my body for the rest of my life. Perhaps it is just wishful thinking?

23. I appreciate hearing the same stories over and over again, because there is always some details that I missed the first time and I never know if it will be the last time I hear it. I'd give anything to hear my grandad tell his stories again.

24. My father has always been my strongest role model. I admire that he cares so much about making a difference.

25. My time spent with my family is more important than material status.

I love saying 'I love you'... It has never and will never outgrow me. I need to express my love verbally and physically always because that is how I was raised. My mom and dad, never stopped saying I love you. Never stopped hugging. Never stopped kissing. And never has it been awkward to do so. I'm grateful for that.
It is what got us through the hard times.

Where Daddy?

I sit down at her level. Cross my legs, make myself comfortable.
'Where?' She asks, tilting her head to one side.
'What are you looking for?' I say.
'Daddy? Where daddy?'
'Daddy is at work.' I explain.
'Daddy home.' She says. 'Sleeping?'
'No, daddy is at work.' I say.
She thinks about this for a moment and then repeats, 'daddy work.'
'That's right' I tell her.

A typical conversation... that amazes me.
Our little girl is growing up. Making sense of the world, and giving me a whole new aspect on life.

Life is beautiful

This winter, although still just beginning, resonates differently in my heart than any other year. It will be the tightest financially this year, I'm sure for more than just myself, but already I carry the feeling with me that it does not matter. None of it matters. And the whole process of Christmas time, the true celebration is all lost in the rippling effect of trying to find the perfect gift. Or to atleast measure up to last year, and the year before.
But the true meaning is the birth of our baby Jesus. God's gift to human kind.
Believe what you will, but this belief in myself makes it all the more special. To come together close as a family, and in spirit. Afterall life & love are gifts. A gift worth loving. A gift worth saving. A gift worth repairing any damages in yourself & others. Love brings us up, never tears us down.

I am also filled with overwhelming emotion as Christmas comes quickly around the corner, that this will be our first Christmas without grandad. It will not be the same.
I know this, but yet I am still very emotional to admit that I am still crying.
For every month on the 5th that I celebrate another month of Becca's life, also marks the number of months since his passing. Rebecca turned 20 months old yesterday.
Twenty months ago Becca was born into this earth. Five months ago you left. I really didn't think, leaving the hospital that day would be the last time I saw you. If I had only known, would it have turned out differently?? What would I have said??

'You will never be forgotten. We all love you so very much, and will be thinking of all those wonderful memories you placed in each of our hearts. I am so thankful that you & nanny took me into your home for those first months of moving to the big city. You really made me feel comfortable, and I'm grateful to have had the time that I did. I really enjoyed renovating your garden, and seeking your approval. You allowed me to express a creative side I never knew I had, and to which I would seek refuge under stress. Grandad, I also enjoyed the relax time afterward, and sharing our happy hour, as the sun was up over the yardarm.'

And come your birthday Grandad, January 1st, as we bring in the new year. I'm not going to say there won't be any tears, because there are some now as I write about you, but they will be mostly tears of appreciation. Life is beautiful. Thank you for showing me that.

And to my nanny,
I need you to know now, that no matter what anyone says you are very special.
You've loved all of us unconditionally. You were one of my first teachers, one of my first role models. I truly appreciated making you proud. I felt humbled that you saved my poems, even after every poem I had kept I threw away.
I love that you have pictures we have drawn on your fridge, from 10 & 20 years ago.
Know how much I appreciated your undivided attention, and listening to what I had to say, and thank you for telling me so much about your life, because your stories will be carried on. You live in our hearts eternally.

It's a good Game!

I never tried out for sports in grade school, because I couldn't play. I was always the last one picked for teams, the one who stood out like a needle in a haystack, with bruised knees and scrawny arms.
I sized up both teams, and secretly hoped I would be on the one with the stronger players, and by stronger I mean, where I'd least likely be noticed.
I suppose even though I was worthy of the most horrible player of the year award, I still enjoyed playing. I simply didn't enjoy the competative nature of the whole game. To me it was just a game. It was all about fun, and enjoying ourselves. Unfortunately, it simply wasn't.
I think it's funny how much fear I brought into the game. The fear of making a mistake, like it would be the end of the world. If it didn't show in my posture, it would likely show on my face. I have what your call severe blushing, it doesn't take much to turn ketchup red. Trust me.

But at home I was fearless it seemed. Picking up spiders, bugs, frogs, crabs. Wild birds, mice, rabbits, chipmunks, seagulls and skunks. Yes, skiunks. That is another story in itself. I picked up pretty much anything that moved with my bare hands. I would climb the highest tree, until as far as I felt the branch would hold my weight. I held my breath with the edrenalyn that raced through my heart. Each footing carefully thought out before I made my move, just like the game of chess.

Until this day my father has instilled the sweet pleasure of a life lesson I will carry through with my daughter.
Although more rare than I would like, every once in a while dad and myself find ourselves blowing dust off the ol' chess board and emersing ourselves in the game of the mind. It is fun. It is intense. It is certainly mind boggling. We are both fighting to win, and praising each others efforts. My dad knows when he's made a good move. He can see it on my face as my mind goes deep into thought. Already thinking about my next move, I try to imagine what dad is thinking. Because he knows so much more than I do, and that is what I admire.

I have inherited my father's perfectionism.
I try so hard to do my best or give up trying. I think it's a blessing and a character flaw at the same time because I often find that I am too hard on myself. Above all I am my own worst critique.
I have given up on a lot of things, because of the ungodly belief that I am not good enough.
But, on the contrary...
This allowed us to become closer. We shared this in common.
like those all nighter assignments you stayed up all night to help me with. That confidence I handed into my English teacher, was that with our minds working together, the many coffee's of course, and the great conversations. We pulled it off!!! They were always the projects I was most proud of, because I had your help.
And you always created the best websites & panoramic photo's. I don't think I totally understood this until I found my artistic side. The hours I put in felt more like minutes. I realized now how we've all become very detail oriented. I just need to focus the details in the right areas.

Another blessing that I have built within my spirit, is patience. That healing/ change & gratification do not come instantly. That we as people are on our own schedules. When we are ready for change, we are more accepting.

So back to our game of chess. I am proud to see your enthusiasm, light up the room. That in all our games of chess, the one and only time I won, I knew was strategy and strategy only. That's what made it special, because it was always a good game no matter who won. I loved that you never just let me win. I had to work for it.

A valued quality I carried through to playing sports.
Unfortunately not everyone loved my enthusiasm, for playing because I couldn't play, but they couldn't see it the way I saw it. I 'll get better. Just you watch.
No time in the world could stop me from getting any worse. By high school, (I haven't played since)for the life of me could not serve the volleyball over the net. Because that annoying voice was ringing inside my ear from the other side of the net. 'No wait. Whoops. Sorry. It was actually my own team screaming, 'Come on, Geez'
Okay so I still suck at playing, some things never change. I obviously hadn't. Neither did the people whom I attended grade school. Still... years later I am humiliated. Therefore I can't play. I can't function.

Hmmm... Future team. How about a little encouragement once in a while. Were on the same team don't forget. You are not a better person than me, nor I a better person than you. It is okay if we play/do things differently. With encouragement is the possibility of getting better.
With discouragement, we are set up for failure.

This works for family members as well. It is known that hurting people hurt people, but really think about what you say before you say it. Imagine for a moment yourself in the position of the recipient of that comment. How would it make you feel?? If it would make you feel bad, why would you say it to someone else?

Future opponent. We are playing the same game. We are both trying are best. And we are both mindful and polite of our differences. We do not need to be the same to succeed. As long as we are proud of how we played. You know when you've been hit. And you know when you need to bring up your game, and you do it with respect.
And when you win, which you will plenty. It's not 'We are the champion's, no time for losers) It's a good game.

I have admiration for that outlook.

Thanks dad.