Why My Heart Shatters

There are the happy moments in life; those moments seemingly frozen in time in your memory… the day you got married, got your acceptance letter from the university you wanted to attend, your first steps on a tropical beach. These are the ones we like to think about as much as possible. But on the other hand, there are also the bad ones; the really bad, heartbreaking, life altering ones. Those are the ones we try to avoid thinking about, but when you’re inside it, in those terrible times, that’s all you can think about.  I am in one of those times. I wasn’t going to blog this week, heck I probably wasn’t going to blog next week or the week after. I was going to avoid it because when I write it forces me to sit down and self reflect. Then I take that self-reflection and put it down on paper; my emotions raw, staring me in the face.

Last Friday was an awful day. One I can’t forget since. I relive those moments over and over again in my mind. The day I had to say goodbye to my beloved cat. To some a cat is just a cat, but to those close who knew my cat, he wasn’t just any cat. He was an amazing soul. He was so sweet and so loving that he made people want to be around him. Simba had such a calm, quiet nature. He just wanted to be near you, to be stroked a little while, maybe steal some food off your dinner plate. On sunny, warm days he just wanted to lay out in the grass, peacefully observing the world go by. Simba is the fur baby love of my life.

A few months ago his health started to decline; I could see it but couldn’t admit it. I told myself that he was just adjusting to life with a newborn in our house again. He started losing weight; his beautiful orange coat that he always kept in perfect condition was starting to look messy; his nose went from a cotton candy pink to brownish. In my heart I knew what was happening, but it couldn’t happen. I wasn’t ready for it. Sure he was fourteen and a half years old and had a medical condition, seizures more specifically that he had to take meds for to keep them to a minimum; meds which cause liver damage. Another day would pass and I would see him get weaker but I had to write it off to just a bump in his road and he would get better. The next week would come and he would be weaker still; it was ever more obvious he wasn’t doing well. Then early last week he started having seizures every day, some times twice a day and I realised the end was nearing. I knew he had to go to the vet, so we scheduled an appointment for him. The morning of his appointment I spent every spare moment I had cuddling him and talking to him. I knew there was a good chance he wouldn’t be coming home. But when the time came for him to go, I said goodbye, but not like forever goodbye because I told myself maybe he just needed a check up, some meds and he would be just fine. I must have checked my phone a thousand times in that thirty minutes waiting to hear from my husband. When I finally read the news, it was the worst case scenario. He was dying. There was nothing else we could do for him. My husband and I agreed we would take him home one more night and have him put down the following afternoon. I will spare most of the details from that night and the next day partly because it is still too hard to write about and partly because those are moments I want to keep special between me and my kitty. I will say however one of the hardest things I ever had to do was put him in his carrier to watch him leave. I knew I would never share another snuggle or give him another kiss ever again. Having him apart of my life was over. And my heart shattered while I sobbed. I kept telling him over and over again how much I loved him, how sorry I was this was happening to him and how much I would miss him always. And I do terribly. I see his presence everywhere still. I see him sitting in the kitchen eating from his bowl, I see him sleeping in the corner of my closet, I see him running through the grass in the backyard and yet I see him not there at all. A piece of my life is missing and they say it will get better. People have told me one day I will think of him and smile instead of cry. But I am not there yet.

I am not really sure what this life is all about; I’m not really sure why people and animals are placed in our lives only to be ripped away from us. It is pretty harsh. I only know this is just how it is. It’s all just temporary. I don’t say that trying to be depressing or morbid rather I say it because again I was reminded of the beauty and frailty of life. I was blessed with an amazing furry friend who enriched my life for over fourteen years and am terribly sad that chapter of my life had to end. But I can only keep going on and appreciating the people in my life still. I am just taking it day by day and enjoying the quiet times with my sons. I cuddle them a little longer, kiss them more often because those are the times I can forget the sadness and just smile.

To my sweet kitty out there somewhere, may you rest in peace and be free. No more pain anymore. You will always be in my heart Simba.


Children, Masters of Time: What They Taught Me

2016-03-31 10.51.32Kids are purely amazing. They will teach you so much about yourself if you are humble enough to let them. I read this quote by Lao Tzu once that really resonated with me, “If you are depressed, you are living in the Past. If you are anxious, living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the moment.” It explained so much about myself.  As someone who has suffered with anxiety throughout my life, I finally made the connection that I was all too often living in the future.

I am guilty of over scheduling myself. I sit every Sunday and look at my week ahead to ensure I have something planned for every day. Multiple events in a day are not uncommon in my life. I get bored sitting around the house even if for a few hours; it feels like a waste of time when I could be accomplishing so many other things. I prefer my schedule to be packed almost to the point of being overwhelming because to me that feels like I am making the most of my life, getting the most out of my life. No wasted time.

During the week I have errands to run and chores to do. Most times I have to drag my two sons along for the ride, much to their dismay. Of course by the end I have tired, grumpy kids to which I am saying just a few more minutes; just one more stop; stop whining; just let Mommy do this last thing. It always ends in bargaining and pleading from both parties just to get through my mile long do-to list. My mind is focused on the future, on the things I have to do, the events coming. Cards I need to buy for birthdays coming up, screws I need to buy for the project I am planning, those pajamas I need to buy cause my eldest has grown like a weed lately. But when I stop and look at my kids, I know they are miserable. They are living in the present moment and that moment sucks. Who wants to go grocery shopping to actually buy groceries? They want to go because there’s  awesome fish and cool lobsters to look at. Who wants to go to the mall to shop for that birthday present when you could be riding the glass elevator or pretending the stroller is a race car. Kids live in the pure and innocent present. If you are able to get out of your head and into the present moment, magic will happen.

Tuesday I decided was my ‘present’ day. The glorious sun was shining and I’d planned to take my boys for a walk to the nearest coffee shop and after we’d spent the rest of the morning playing in the backyard. During our walks, my boys are always calm and happy; my eldest and I talk about all the trucks passing by and my baby just plays and smiles at me. We reach the coffee shop and I pay for my coffee and muffin. My son says to me, “mom can we sit at a table outside?” He’s never asked me that before. “Sure, of course we can,” I reply. We find a table for two outside and he climbs out of the stroller and into the chair across the table from me. There is a special twinkle in his eye as he sits there chatting and eating his muffin; he is so excited to be a big boy, my coffee date, but he is nowhere near as excited as I am. There is no one else in the world right now that I’d rather be sitting across from than him. This is a coffee date I want to remember forever. Bashfully he asks me if we can go to the park on our way home. I figure he thinks there’s a 50-50 chance I could say no cause we don’t have time. Today we have time, so I say yes. Immediately he gets so excited and wants to jump back into the stroller to go to the park right now. I follow his lead. At the park, I stand back and watch him climbing, running and admire how fast he is growing up; pondering how he doesn’t need my hand guiding him up the chain ladder to reach the top of the slide. There’s no one else at the park except for the three of us and in that very moment I know why. This is my precious reward for just living in the moment with my boys. I get this time just for us and don’t have to share. They don’t have to share my mind with my lists; they have all my attention. We are perfectly at peace together. Happy, pure happiness in these moments.

Kids have the amazing ability to live in the moment and do whatever strikes them. It’s truly magnificent their pureness. My kids are certainly showing me the best and not so best of myself. They are the happiest when I ignore the rest of the world and just play with them. My love and attention is all they ask.

So I humbly acknowledge that I am aware scheduling every minute is not truly living life at all. Life actually happens in the unscheduled moments while living free. Those are the memories we make, the ones I treasure. My kids are teaching me more about life than ever before; they make me aware of what is important. There will never be a blessing greater than my two amazing boys. I hope one day they grow up to read this and know firstly how much they are loved by me, but how their Mom was humble enough to admit that sometimes maybe they did know better.


“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”

(John Lennon, 1980, Darling Boy)

❤ Melissa


I Killed Her. She’s Dead.

20160315_152311.jpgI stood above her: breath bated, fingers itching. I stood, staring, anxiously waiting for her once again to shine her light upon me.

I swear I tried to revive her. I pounded my fists upon her, once, twice, a hundred times. I screamed to her come back to me… please come back to me. I bowed my head towards her to whisper softly how I regretted my actions. How I wished I could take it all back. If I could rewind time, just the last forty five minutes. That small measure of time is all I needed back. I would have never shoved her hastily in that grey bag, sealing it up shut. Never would I have tossed her in the back of my car, buried beneath bags and bags of stuff, concealing her. As I screeched out of the driveway, I relived our moments together. The years we shared. How connected we were. Those intimate moments when my fingers tips were upon her, my eyes locked in gaze upon her light. She was always there for me just waiting idioly until I wanted her. Casually I’d slide back into the couch and place her on my lap, feeling her warmth against my thighs. Together in these moments we’d create magic. Our own world. We’d explore together. Learn together. Create together.

All of that was over now. I knew it but wasn’t ready to accept it. I unzipped the bag and yanked her out. I knew instantly something was wrong. She wasn’t the same. She was too hot to the touch. She’d always been sensitive to temperature. But please no… I need her. Please come back to life. I thought to myself in those panicked moments waiting for her to respond. But there was nothing, only black. She made one last groan and I knew she was gone. Gone. My haste has cost me. My carelessness. I thought she’d make the short car trip. I thought she’d be okay.

R.I.P. my beautiful Sony Vaio. So many stories, poems, blogs we have shared. All the late night hours creating my website, the secret stalking on Facebook and endless pinning on Pinterest. All of that is over now. I never thought to power her down before I quickly stuffed her into my laptop bag. It was just a quick drive. No big deal. But she was suffocated on that fateful car trip. Ugh!!! Fickle computers one minute you’re there typing away and the next they give you the black screen of death.

I haven’t replaced her yet. I’m not ready to move on. Secretly I think if I try one more time maybe by some miracle she’ll turn on. But I know deep down this won’t come true. She’s gone for good. Her hard drive filled with my work she’s keeping locked up… for now anyways. I’ve scheduled an autopsy for her soon. We’ll get the information I need from her then.

And I had to write this blog from my phone. It stinks. Sorry if it’s not up to standard. My options for posting are limited on my phone app. Better limited than not at all. Anyone interested in a laptop shaped paper weight? In good used condition. Ha, ha. Oh boy…. time to search for a new laptop. A new chapter.

Until next time, with a heavy heart and empty laptop bag,

❤ Melissa

Confessions Of A Hot Housewife

By hot I actually mean because I have an iron in my hand. Hot iron. Ha ha! Get it? Just before I sat down at my laptop to write this blog, I was admiring the fruits of my labour today: my staggering pile of freshly ironed laundry. I should mention 99% of it belongs to my husband. All his work shirts and work pants, crisply pressed by yours truly. As I stood above my beige ironing board with my hot pink iron in hand (yes it really is hot pink), my mind wondered, wondered way back to the 1950’s. Somehow in this moment I imagined myself to be a 1950’s housewife. Here I was with my two sweet boys peacefully adrift in dreamworld during their naps, laundry eagerly awaiting my hot iron touch and my scratch made spaghetti sauce simmering slowly on the stove top. None of my work clothes are in the pile to be ironed because I am not working. My current work gear so to speak consists of jeans (on a good day), a t-shirt (preferably one without baby puke on it) and a cardigan (usually lying in a pile of wrinkled dirty clothes on my bedroom floor). Back in the day housewives work wear was far more glamorous: girly, full-skirted dresses, white gloves, fuzzy high-heeled slippers, a string of elegant pearls draped around their necks. Indeed I have always been a fan of the 50’s fashion. I have been wearing pearl necklaces most of my life; accumulated quite the collection of pearl jewelry as well as an impressive collection of vintage brooches. A few years ago, my girlfriends and I got together for a 50’s themed party where we all dressed up and spent hours drinking wine and taking photos of us. Taking photos, that’s kind of a thing for us on girls night. That party was by far one of my favorites. I felt so pretty, ravishingly ladylike even. 420849_10151355350460398_2092417510_n

I admire women back then for their fashion. Though most people talk about how life was so much more simple back then; how it must have been easier for families because they could afford for the wives to stay home to raise the children and care for the home. I’m not sure I fully agree with that statement. Yes I am proud that I can iron clothes with the best of them and that usually four out of five work days I have dinner on or almost on the table by the time my husband comes home, but all the while I am always exceedingly aware I have far more opportunities and options for my modern housewife life. I am capable of anything and everything. I run my house well; I continue my passion as a writer; I, when not on maternity leave, work to bring income into this house to help provide the lifestyle my family has become accustom to. I am always looking for opportunities to better myself be it taking a course to further my education or spending time searching Pinterest to find the perfect DIY project or dinner recipe. It’s not frowned upon in this era for a woman to be everything she wants. Though being a housewife is more than enough of a job most of the time, I just want to say it is a great feeling to have choices. So yes I would raid the closet of a 1950’s housewife any day and maybe I should wear red lipstick a little more often, but I am thankful for being a modern day housewife with all its glorious potential.

Oh! Baby crying… snap back from my 50’s day dream… time for Mommy duty. But where oh where did I leave that tube of red lipstick… Que Sera Sera!

Until next time, 


Having Baby Two: My Revelation

2016-03-03 16.02.11Hello lovely people, thanks once again for coming back this week. Another blog post, I’m impressed with myself. Funny though, talking about parenthood is easy as breathing for me right now. I am in the thick of it; treading water hard to keep my head afloat. I have yet another confession, well let me call it more of a revelation actually. This is something I discovered about myself as my little one was turning three months old. Now, only now, I can I officially say I know what busy is. With one child, I felt like I never had time to do things and even felt like I never had time to myself. I remember when my first was three months old, I had come to my breaking point. I cried to my husband that I felt like I was drowning, never having a spare moment to just be by myself. I was breastfeeding my son exclusively and was desperately starting to feel suffocated by it, so we agreed that every night at bedtime he would give our son a bottle and put him to bed while I had an hour to myself. Just to myself. That moment changed everything for me. It was amazing. The boys had time to bond together and I got my sanity back. Now, I look back and laugh at myself. No freedom… honey you had lots of freedom! Today I struggle for ten minutes to shower (though let me tell you when I get those ten minutes it… is… pure… heaven).

Nowadays I let my newborn son breastfeed for an hour on and off at night to keep him quiet while my husband puts our older son to bed. Yeah that’s right I have my son sleeping on me with my boob out and should he wake up again he quietly goes back to nursing and I get a chance to sit and watch MOMMY’S TV shows instead of bloody Paw Patrol for the millionth time. Now I’m sure there are plenty of people out there judging me or wanting to lecture me on how bad it is that I let my son nurse on demand like that at night, but honestly I don’t care what anyone thinks or says. That is my sanity time, though I might not be alone; it is quiet. My husband and older son are happily reading stories upstairs; the toys are still spilled all over the floor to which I choose to ignore and I sit down on the goldfish crumb filled couch to watch my recorded episode of “The Bachelor” or “Long Island Medium” or whatever I choose because it is my time. Sure it would be nice to sit down without having my boob out, but for now I like to say having children is only about survival. Yours. Theirs. So I do what I need to do at the time to ensure everyone’s survival. If that means I rent out my boobs at night time, they are all his!

There you have it… my revelation. Having your first baby turns your life upside down, inside out over again and it’s rough to adjust at first, but having your second is so much easier given that you are now a practiced parent; however, there is no time. No time. No time. No time. I have never been so overwhelmed, so tired and so happy. I, we, are surviving the best we can and that is enough for now. 

So I am throwing my hand up in the air and high-fiving any of you parents out there with one, two, three… ten kids. You are doing a great job! You are doing the best you can! None of us hear that enough. Awesome job day after day doing what you need to do to give your kids the best of yourself. Keep it up!!!!

Until next time,

❤ Melissa

Return To Words: Big News!

QuoteWow… having a newborn can really make time fly! Five months have passed since my last post. I can’t believe it. This is the first moment I’ve had to sit down and open my laptop to my website. Yes, I also forgot how much work babies are. They are glorious, amazing, time and energy absorbing people; so demanding and rewarding. My second sweet boy arrived October 14th, leisurely at his own pace after over twenty six hours of labour. It almost felt like he was never going to come out. But he did. He has filled our lives with perfect little smiles and laughter; his easy going personality is so welcomed; however, he still requires so much of my love and attention. I have been so enjoying adjusting to my life as a mommy again. I get to love two fantastic boys, watch them grow and reciprocate love for each other. I feel incredibly lucky. Of course these two boys consume 99% of my time, day and all night, so that doesn’t leave much time for myself. Here is my blog… standing idol… waiting for me. I miss it terribly. I miss writing. I miss reading. I would miss my time with my boys more, so I wouldn’t trade a second. Somehow having my second son, I appreciate the time with my kids way more than I did before. I see how increasingly fast time goes and how it slips so quickly through my fingers. There will come a day where they both won’t need me at night time to feed and cuddle them; there will come a day when they don’t need help bathing; there will come a day where they won’t grab my hand and ask me to come play trucks and cars with them; there will come a day when they will grow up and I will just be left with the memories of my precious moments with them as babies. I will not rush it. I won’t wish it away or try to make them grow up faster than they need to. I am relishing every single second with them, every morning I get to bring them into my bed and snuggle with them while the world outside waits; every night I go into their rooms one last time before I go to bed to kiss them and tuck them in. I love it, love, love, love it. I love being a Mom more than I could have ever imagined possible. Writing is my hobby… maybe one day my career… but being a Mom… that is my calling. I truly feel like being a Mom to these two special little boys is what I was brought here to do. They are my everything. With that said, I will be back when the mood strikes and words come spilling out my heart. For now, my boys are sleeping… yes at the same time… YES that is super rare these days… and here I am with rare time on my hands thinking of them. Which leads me to, I have added a new category to my blog, “The Mommy Chronicles” because I’m afraid as much as I love talking about reading and writing, babies and baby stuff are all consuming right now on my brain, so perhaps I will go with it and write about it. Mom life. My life. Let’s see where it goes! Thanks for coming back again! Stick around.

❤ Melissa

Ever Constant Change…

change quoteHappy Friday once again my friends. Hope you have been well. This week I have been reflecting on change in life, mostly because well I am about to have a huge change in my life. This was my last week at work before my maternity leave starts. I finished Wednesday. One of the things I love to do most in life is observe and dissect people; I’m not sure if it’s the writer in me trying to pick apart people to create more realistic characters or whether it is simply just my own curiosity about how people think. Either way I have been watching people close to me and monitoring their reactions to the change in my life. It’s so interesting how everyone deals so differently with life situations. Some pushed me away keeping me a distance and some clung to me trying to spend as much time as possible before I left. All the time while watching others, I was still trying to figure out how I felt about everything. By nature I am a creature of habit. I like routine. I like knowing what to expect (as much as possible) of the next day. Minimizing the unknowns, brings me comfort and balance. Having a baby has to be one of the greatest way to throw all routine and knowing to the wayside. Yet here I am, three weeks give or take away from another great, wonderful, scary unknown change in my life and I’m still dancing the line of denial. Yes, the room is 90% ready, yes my bag is 90% packed, yes I just finished my last of work, yes I have a game plan for the next couple weeks to get some extra sleep in, cleaning and all the things that I won’t be able to do…. but… I just can’t bring myself to go the full 100% to completion. I think this is my last defiant stand against change, as if I have some control over it at this point. Ha! As if I don’t pack that last item in my hospital bag, this baby can’t come yet. Delusional? Probably. I am well aware that life shows us over and over again that the only thing we can count on is change and change will come when life demands it, not us necessarily. Everyone has been asking me, so are you ready? My answer… well sure if my baby came today I suppose you would say I am ready, but in my mind, I am not, I am only 90% ready. 

This morning my son woke up stupid early from a bad dream. A cat was chasing him and he was scared. I eventually got him back down in his crib, but my mind was furious with thoughts of my life to come. There was no going back to sleep for me, so I sat alone on the couch in a dark, quiet house. As my laptop was starting up, I couldn’t help but think perhaps this time in a few weeks I would be doing the exact same thing only it wouldn’t be a laptop it would be my newborn in my arms. I remember those early mornings with my first son; so early it felt the world hadn’t even opened its eyes yet. There the two of us were snuggled together in a blanket and I would just stare at him in awe and love. No distractions, no sounds, no people… those moments were just ours and ours alone. Before I know it, with an exhausted body, blood-shot eyes, craving just fifteen more minutes of sleep, I will sit alone in a quiet, dark room with my baby and steal a few moments for just the two of us, together. In those moments I know I will realize despite my doubt and never-ending worry, perhaps, just maybe, secretly, I really was 100% ready all along to give myself fully to another tiny human. Maybe I am not so bad at this change thing after all. 

Time, short time, will tell. Thank you for stopping by and reading. Until next time! May life bring you sweet, wonderful happy change. 

❤ Melissa