The Story of Me: Volume 3

Photo: Eric M Martin on Flickr

Volume 1

If my life was a story made up of various chapters in multiple volumes, Volume 1 could be called “Michelle: the daughter of her parents”.

That first volume told the story of a girl’s childhood. It told countless anecdotes that each had a lesson… the moral of the story just like every fairy tale. Those stories molded the young girl into the person she would start to become as an adult. In the first volume, her parents were her source of knowledge, strength, inspiration, hope, and wisdom. Her parents were the key influencers and taught the girl what they felt were the necessities of this lifetime as they saw it. It was a beautiful book filled with love, opportunity, encouragement, security and discipline and it set the foundation for volume 2. Volume 1 ended with hope and excitement as the now young woman finished her education, began to establish an adult life and caught a glimpse of what it might take to build the future she was only just starting to imagine.

Volume 2

Volume 2 could be titled “Michelle: on becoming a wife and mother”.

Volume 2 began with the now young woman meeting the man she would go on to marry, learning to function together with him and learning what it really means to love someone apart from herself. It was filled with chapter upon chapter of ups, downs, learning experiences, growth experiences, laughter and tears. It told the story of the young woman following her heart wherever it would lead, even if that was into some pretty treacherous territory. As the story unfolded her eyes were opened up to some very important life lessons on marriage, on child-rearing, on connections and interpersonal relationships… on faith. In this story, she transitioned from looking to her parents for love and guidance to seeking out those things from her marriage partnership and growing her character with the help of an expanded sphere of influence.

Just before the end of volume 2, the woman’s husband was killed tragically leaving a sense of chaos and deafening silence in her life and her home. What an odd ending to such a beautiful volume. When you got to the end you might say, “It must have had some pages torn out.” If it were a movie you would say, “Well, they have to make a sequel; it can’t end like that.” Here’s the thing… there’s a tiny little piece of the story hiding at the end of that second volume that, if you don’t pay close enough attention, you could miss entirely. It’s a short scene that is pretty vital to understanding and enjoying the sequel. It’s that bit that you might only catch as you re-read the book for the second or third time. In fact, most people won’t ever re-read it and that full understanding remains reserved for the story’s author alone.

At the end of volume 2, a divine peace permeates the protagonist’s life. She finds herself pondering every moment up until that point and every hope for the future. She sees that the future she once expected and dreamed about will now never come to pass but she can also see that she’s not alone in this journey: The author of life itself knows how the story will unfold.

She’s actually been given a precious gift: the ability to co-write a new future with strengthened faith borne out of her helplessness; the ability to co-write a new future while applying every lesson learned from volumes 1 and 2; and the freedom to boldly step into that new future with excitement and anticipation thanks to her steadfast faith.

Volume 3

Volume 3 has begun: “Michelle: destiny awaits”.

So volume 3 is now just starting to be written, but it has indeed begun. I know everyone has an opinion on what I should think, feel, do in light of my husband’s death. Whether you end up sharing it with me or not, I know you have an opinion. And it’s okay. The truth is, I have been given the opportunity to take everything I know about me, my faith, my kids, my hopes, my likes, my dislikes, my wishes and earnestly seek exactly what I’m looking for without compromise. That’s the silver lining.

I really don’t want to be alone. I don’t think this life is meant to be lived alone. God said, “It is not good for a man to be alone.” I want someone to share my life with, to share my experiences with… someone to share parenting with. I want someone who will help to model a healthy marriage relationship to my kids. I want someone who will be my partner and hold me up when I’m on shakey ground. I want someone to help teach my boys how to be men. I want someone to lead my family. That’s what is missing. And I believe God wants that for me too.

If I were to create a list of criteria for a perfect partner it would include:

  • Must love God and have a personal relationship with Jesus
  • Must love kids and have some of his own but desire no more
  • Must have been married and understand all that entails
  • Must have a stable job or at least a really strong work ethic
  • Must have a strong desire to grow in faith
  • Must be around my age, give or take 5 years or so
  • Must have a huge heart
  • Must be willing to commit for better or worse
  • Must be willing to accept that I will always speak lovingly about my late husband to my kids – this will last 20 years or more
  • Must be willing to pray together
  • Must be willing to fill the role of mentor to my boys
  • Must be willing to carry on a dating relationship the way God would want

So yeah, I assumed I’d never meet someone that would be a perfect match. That is, after all, quite the list of demands, right?

Well… it turns out it’s not so far-fetched after all.

I have met someone new who I am very much enjoying getting to know. Too soon? Not when the hand of God is all over it. The human heart has an extraordinary ability to overcome. In some ways, I think moving beyond the death of a spouse may be easier than moving beyond a broken marriage where one person chose to leave. Especially for a believer. I fully believe my late husband has reaped the ultimate reward… we should all be so blessed! I don’t have to feel hurt that he chose to leave. I don’t have to feel sadness that he won’t see his boys grow up – he’s in heaven worshiping the Almighty Creator! I just have to cherish his memories, honour him as I raise our boys and know that one day I’ll worship around the throne with him.

I’m excited about what the future holds for me and my boys and I’m ready to dive in and write volume 3. I hope you will sit back and enjoy watching the story unfold without judgement.

If you’re new to my blog or have just stumbled upon it through a search engine, you can read all the entries about the death of my husband here.

Where the grass is greenest

Photo: ted.sali on Flickr

This post comes out of many conversations I’ve had lately with a number of different people who either are, have been, or will soon be married as well as many new moms trying to learn the ropes of parenting while maintaining some sort of harmony at home.

I also think a little on this topic anytime I notice the judgemental eyes that now land on my newly-naked ring finger as I travel to and fro with my two children in tow. I sometimes feel like wearing a t-shirt that says, “It’s not what you think.” But anyway, I digress as always.

I realized recently that I had no idea just how much my husband was a part of me; I never really realized how lost I’d be without him. Sure, I can manage… and I do. But the sense of unconditional love and security that he brought to my life and our home is now gone… and I never even really knew how strong that was until it was missing.

Marriage is all or nothing.

Blending two lives together is tough. I know it was a painful reality for me when I realized I had to let someone else’s life, goals, wishes, wants, dreams and plans factor into my decision-making. It took me a long time to get there… in fact, I can say in no uncertain terms that it was only after we were actually married that I fell in love with him with the married kind of love.

The first time the reality of marriage hit me was when Dave severely injured himself from a fall off our 2nd floor balcony when I was pregnant the first time. He had taken off the railing and was cutting some lumber when he slipped and lost his balance, falling to the concrete below, but not before hitting the scaffolding on the way down. He broke a couple of ribs, collapsed a lung and bruised his liver and was virtually incapacitated for weeks. After just 12 hours or so in the ER they said, “You have a wife; you can go home and she can take care of you.” It was then that I realized physically caring for another individual is actually in the cards when you say, “I do.” Whether that means helping them with bathing, using the bathroom, getting dressed or cutting up their food and feeding it to them. I thank God he didn’t sustain a spinal cord injury that day and I can only imagine the selflessness required to care for a permanently disabled spouse. But guess what? As his wife, that was my responsibility, even though I was pregnant and working full time. And if his injuries had been worse, my job would have been bigger. I’m not convinced many marriages start out with the kind of commitment it would take to get through something like that. I think that kind of commitment is something you grow into together.

The birth of our first son put a huge strain on our already imperfect relationship. Those first couple of years were excruciating. I hated being so dependent on someone else and I fought it with all my strength. I was so lost in this new world of motherhood coupled with an awful bout of postpartum depression I barely knew which way was up, couldn’t get enough sleep and went about my life oblivious to everyone and everything other than me and my son. My husband was left to feel lonely, confused and inadequate when he couldn’t solve my problem, but he loved us both so much he would have done anything to make it better. So he waited and worked hard to provide for us while taking on all the cooking and cleaning in our home so I was free to just be a mom. We barely spoke to each other for ages.

And then one day the fog started to lift.

Our life together started to take shape. Our son was older and more interactive; he and his dad became inseparable. I began to enjoy life again; most of all I delighted in watching my husband and my son together… our family. My family.

The point of this, at least where babies and parenthood is concerned, is that it is only a season in your life. It does pass. Kids get older and more self-sufficient; you eventually get more sleep and see the world more clearly; and as you learn to parent together you might actually find a deeper level of connectedness than you ever had before kids. I have said this in person to some new moms and I’ll say it again here:

Do not make any permanent decisions about your relationship until your child is at least two years old. Please. It will get better.

I actually think there is something to be respected about the old-fashioned way of doing things… staying together for the kids. People don’t do that anymore; some don’t even try. We’re all wrapped up in our own self-absorbed worlds and we want what we want without being able to see clearly beyond the here and now. We all want a partner who will place our needs above their own and many times moms have a tendency to put their children before their husbands (I can say this because I’m guilty of it myself). We play the “my life sucks worse than your life” game and bicker over who worked longer hours, who has it rougher, who has more household chores, who spent more money, who gets more “me time”. Then we find we’re meaner, ruder, snarkier to each other than we would be to a complete and total stranger.

If you have children, I think you owe it to your children to do anything and everything to not only make your marriage tolerable but enjoyable! If two adults without children find they both don’t want to live together anymore, fine. Part company. But your kids never asked to be dragged in to your mess and they never asked to live in a world where they’re expected to grow up and know how to have great relationships (or a relationship at all) without ever having witnessed one in their own home.

I received a great message from a marriage conference Dave and I attended once that really struck me: People always think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, but the truth is the grass is greenest when it is cared for, nurtured, seeded, watered, cared for, aerated, mowed, fertilized, cared for… it’s a LOT of WORK to have a green grass. If you don’t take care of it it will fade and die.

The same is true of a marriage.

We spend hours upon hours at our jobs, our hobbies, our athletic pursuits, our education, our passions… how much time and energy do we spend on nurturing our marriage relationships? I know I didn’t spend enough, that’s for sure.

I feel really blessed that in the last year before Dave died, our relationship had again moved to yet another deeper level of commitment. It started when we found out we were expecting another baby. It was like something clicked between us and we realized we had absolutely no choice anymore but to work together if we were going to not only avoid the hell we went through the first time but move ahead with peace and joy in our home. We were so excited about it; we began to deliberately focus on enjoying our time together. When Mini-Boy was born our family felt totally complete and we were embarking on a brand new adventure of a lifetime.

It took 10 years before we got to feel that total oneness marriage is supposed to be about. And I count myself blessed to have known that kind of love.

Don’t give up.

All shapes and sizes

Photo: emmerogers on Flickr

Last night I ran Vancouver’s Underwear Affair 10km, raising money for cancers below the belt. The event was awesome. The course was so beautiful – from the Seaforth Armouries at 1st & Burrard along the entire False Creek seawall and back over the Burrard Street Bridge. Not surprisingly, this run is very much a spectator sport; hundreds of people racing in their underwear has a tendency to bring out the people-watchers in droves.

What I loved about the race was that there were bodies of all shapes and sizes donning their skivvies for a cause and, quite frankly, I was surprised and impressed with the level of confidence many of the runners seemed to display. I did not run in my underwear… mostly because I was running this event by myself and thought it would be weird without a team of buddies. But if I were to get a little group of friends together, I wouldn’t necessarily be averse to doing it in future.

Most of my life I’ve struggled with body image issues.

I’ve been fat; I’ve been thin; I’ve been in-between. I’ve had big boobs and small boobs. I’ve worn flattering clothing and not-so-flattering clothing; I’ve worn fully-covering wrap things on the beach and I’ve donned a bikini. I’ve made poor food choices; I’ve suffered from disordered behaviour including binge eating and over-exercising and I’ve smoked cigarettes to help me control my weight.

Even now I often think about having a few things fixed: The lines in my face seem to be developing at an astonishing rate, my mangled two-c-section tummy is a bit of an eyesore and the girls are not what they used to be; but beauty is more than the physical. Besides, what is the ideal anyway? God made all of humanity to have the same components in such varying shapes, sizes and colours that, aside from biological anomalies like identical multiples, there are billions of unique designs. Which one exactly am I supposed to be modeling myself after?

In the last couple of months I’ve developed an appreciation for the skin I’m in. Life is too short to worry about how well we stack up physically against those around us…  besides, it’s not a contest.

When I think of how critical I’ve been of my body over the years I cringe when I think of just how normal I was and yet how awkward and destroyed I felt on the inside. And now with my beautiful imperfections I can at least appreciate that this body has grown two babies, run hundreds of kilometers, earned a black belt, jumped out of airplanes, and will spend (hopefully) the next 50 years or so serving my children, my family and friends and enjoying this beautiful life I’ve been given.

My friends, it’s time to start loving the bodies we’ve been given. Whether you’re tall, short, skinny, fat, freckled, hairy, balding, jiggly, muscular, dainty, scarred, lanky, apple or pear shaped… if you’ve got wrinkles, varicose veins, saggy boobs, man-boobs, a flat bum, a round bum, thick ankles, big ears, hair in the wrong places or nasty toenails, enjoy that you are alive for a purpose and that beautiful body of yours is the only one you’ve got.

… and I think it’s perfect, just the way it is. So does your mom.

What’s in your underwear?

Photo: Frankfarm on Flickr

Get your head out of the gutter… I’m talking about cancers below the belt.

Last month, a very close friend of mine lost her step dad to bladder cancer. Before he had bladder cancer he’d had prostate cancer and this same friend lost her dad 10 years ago to colon cancer. I have some other friends who lost their mom to colon cancer as well. There is no shortage of stories of how cancer devastates families every day.

In fact, I have been treated twice and know many other women who have also been treated in various ways to remove pre-cancerous cells from the cervix. This is way more common than you might think. And it’s a little scary.

This year, I’ve decided to run in the BC Cancer Foundation’s Underwear Affair in memory of Bob Walker to help raise money for this worthy cause:

Join BC Cancer Foundation’s Underwear Affair® presented by Mark’s Work Wearhouse and help uncover the cure for underfunded below-the-waist cancers like prostate, ovarian, and colorectal. On July 10, 2010, run the competitive 10K or walk the fun 5K and show Vancouver that there’s absolutely no shame in bringing a little awareness to down there-ness. [uncoverthecure.org]

The minimum fundraising commitment for this event is $300 and I’m hoping you will help me reach my personal goal of $500 raised. I have kicked off the donations by chipping in $100 of my own, but I’d love to see my friends and family rally around to help me.

It’s been a long time since I ran 10km though I’m confident I will find the strength to run this race. I only have to take one look at the sadness on my loved ones’ faces to see how important this is… and I want to help make a difference.

Will you help me? Please click below to donate.


Have you or someone you know been affected by cancers below the belt? Please share your story in the comments… or maybe you’d consider running with me.

Monday Moans

Photo: Aleksi Aaltonen on Flickr

Well it’s Monday morning and I’m going to take this opportunity to indulge in a little whining…

I’m seriously unimpressed with the state of my body. Not the shape of it. The state of it. Two pregnancies and two c-sections (not to mention breastfeeding two babies), combined with some less-than-healthy personal habits have indeed left the shape with something to be desired. I can, however, live with the shape. The physical state, on the other hand, is desperately out of whack.

Parenting is physically demanding. I remember this after mini-man was born… I have nearly no range of motion in my shoulders from constantly having my arms out in front of me – carrying babies, pushing strollers… well, sitting at the computer typing… add the sliced up abs from the c-sections and my lower back is messed up too and requires active rehabilitation to fix it.

I wake up every morning with a sore, stiff back, tension headaches and numb hands. What I need to do is re-balance my physiology to fix these problems and it will definitely require the help of a personal trainer who knows what they’re doing.

I’ve decided to check out a new gym that has childminding. Options are certainly limited in North Vancouver: North Van Rec Commission has childminding at most gyms but the hours are limited. Fitness World has childminding too with somewhat extended hours but they pack the kids in like sardines with very little supervision. I will give Genesis Athletic Club a go and see what their facilities are like.

I’m also torn between massage, chiropractic and physiotherapy to fix my back & shoulders… not sure what should be my first line of defense. Personally I’d hope an aromatherapy massage and a glass of wine would fix it, but sadly I think it’s going to take a little more effort on my part.

What’s your Monday Moan?

Transparency with a hint of narcissism

Photo: limowreck666 on Flickr

The more I use social media tools to communicate with people the more I ponder the long-term rammifications of such systems. I know there was a time when people were a little nervous about using a little newfangled tool called the telephone. Similarly, when email became a viable communication tool in business, the C-suite got their panties in bunches because everything anyone said would become written record. Now, in the days of Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, YouTube, Flickr, MySpace, forums and the myriad other social networking sites out there, EVERYTHING is a matter of written record. Personal, professional, not-so-professional… everything.

The one thing I find absolutely fascinating about these sites is that it takes a certain kind of person to start a conversation. There is definitely a sort of narcissistic tendency that drives status updates everywhere. Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn all have a status update field, and updating one’s status is like starting a conversation without knowing who you’re talking to… it’s sort of akin to running out into the street and screaming, “I just ate pancakes for breakfast!” to see who might respond. The business equivalent is like standing in the subway yelling, “I improved sales by 23% over last year by implementing a new CRM system!” What kind of person starts a conversation without someone on the receiving end?

Almost everyone.

If that is the case, are we creating a narcissistic society? What does the future of social networking look like?

The simple fact that I have a blog probably makes me a bit of a narcissist if I’m being honest. I’ve never met a blogger who didn’t get a sense of accomplishment from checking their site stats; some even go so far as to set up full Google Analytics and track conversion rates for email and feed signups. It’s not that I think there’s anything wrong with that, but it is just evidence of the ego boost that goes along with knowing people are interested in what you have to say.

I’ve always been a little awkward in new situations or when I’m put on the spot; it’s the reason I’ve become so incredibly truthful in every situation – sometimes to my own detriment. Somehow I find being completely transparent makes life easier… not to mention, I don’t have to try and remember what I said in any given situation. In light of my mildly stunted personal skills, social networking and communicating online gives me the opportunity to think through what I want to say before I blurt out something ridiculous. This is good for me.

I am excited at the prospect of a transparent world.

Ten years from now, everyone will be online sharing status updates and leaving a trail of evidence to their lives behind them. No longer will anyone have a public and a private persona. No longer will people have to worry about not getting a job because they had some college party photos on their Facebook; companies will barely be able to find anyone who hasn’t posted something that shows them enjoying a drink, wearing something too revealing (or nothing at all), or doing something embarassing. What will happen, though, is that we’ll all have to evaluate every relationship by looking at the total person with all their dirty laundry hanging out for the world to see. We will have to consider everyone from a different perspective. I can’t tell you how often it has shocked me to see CEOs use the phrase “WTF” on Twitter. Seriously. It shocks me. But ten years from now it won’t. I will just get to know that those people will likely drop the F-bomb in the office too and decide if that’s okay with me.

I’ve already said more online than many people and maybe that will come back to bite me in the butt one day. But I’m happy knowing I’m true to me and if someone chooses to overlook me for a given opportunity because I’m a born-again Christian or because I’ve had postpartum depression, because I once bashed a reality TV star or because I have written about the joys of colon cleansing so be it. I’m okay with that. The kind of opportunities I’m looking for are those where my skills can make an impact and those that allow me to be as nerdy as I want, let me try out new ideas and allow me to do what it is that I’m passionate about.

I can’t and won’t be someone else just so more people will like me. After all, I think I’m pretty great and that’s all that matters.

I dare you to copy your most recent status update to the comments…

Fuelling Passion

Photo: Erzsebet on Flickr

I was at Mom’s Morning Out on Thursday – it’s a group at Valley Church where moms can go and have their kids looked after while they get a chance to sit with other moms, have a coffee and a snack and talk about various topics of interest. Thursday we watched a short video about addictive behaviours and the reason they come about. One of those reasons has been going around in my head since then and I thought I’d put it out there…

When peoples’ talents or passions are squashed by someone – no matter how significant or insignificant in their life – they may suppress that gift forever but replace it with poor self esteem and unhealthy habits.

I thought about my husband, who when he was a kid wanted to fly fighter planes (what little boy didn’t!). He joined the air cadets and was a star student, but one instructor told him flat out, “You’ll never fly. You don’t have perfect vision.” And a dream died.

He never pursued flight training any further and to this day longs to take to the skies in any way possible.

I feel very blessed that my parents always taught me that I could do ANYTHING I put my mind to. I mean it. Anything. And for the most part I still believe that (perhaps as evidenced by some of my current pursuits).

So I’d like to put it out there and ask you? What did you want to do when you were a kid? Or even as a young adult or… not so young adult? What are you good at? Go one… brag a little. We’re all good at something!

I’m good at singing, spinning hook kicks, physics, solving problems and I’m the queen of parallel parking.

Now did someone down the line tell you you couldn’t do it? Did that make you back away from that dream or did it make you that much more determined to get there?

I suppose it has to do with personality type. Despite being shy, I am very determined. For someone who is more hesitant, being told you’re too short, too tall, too fat, too tone-deaf, too dumb etc. could be absolutely devastating.

I pity the fool who crushes my kids’ dreams.

Dear Endorphins, I Miss You

Photo: melomane on Flickr

When I was growing up I was never an athletic kid. Sure, I tried every sport under the sun – my parents saw to it that I was well-rounded that way – but I never found anything I excelled at.

It was only in my adulthood that I began to seek out ways to be active that I would really enjoy. It didn’t take long before I realized I am just not, nor have I ever been, a team sport kind of person. By far my favourite activities are all individual sports: kickboxing, snowboarding, yoga, kayaking and running.

Photo: Polkaroo on Flickr

As I learned to incorporate sport and other activity into my life I began to see a shift in my mindset: I feel lost and sluggish if I can’t get any exercise. I’ve become dependent on the endorphins for a sense of wellbeing, health and vitality. I even kept running until I was 28 weeks pregnant.

I’m now 5 weeks postpartum and am DESPERATELY awaiting the go-ahead to run again. I miss running more than any other activity except maybe for hiking the Grouse Grind.

I’ve started a daily 2 mile walk now with mini-boy either strapped to me in the carrier or in the stroller as well as some mild abdominal exercises to try and put together what’s left of my post-cesarean muscles. I’m hoping when I see my doctor next week I’ll be given the go-ahead to resume normal activity.

I’ve decided to give myself a goal: I plan to complete this year’s Seek The Peak Relay solo.

The challenging 16-kilometer course starts on the beach at Ambleside Park in West Vancouver, winds its way through North Vancouver, then heads up the legendary Grouse Grind® to the Peak of Vancouver. [seekthepeak.ca]

The Seek The Peak Relay is a very special event. There’s something very fulfilling about standing on the top of Grouse Mountain, 4100 feet above sea level, looking at the ocean and knowing you just traveled that distance on foot.

Photo: Houston Marsh on Flickr

I have done this race before… and when I say race I mean I have completed the distance on event day. I don’t race. I’m a real slowpoke but I love the sense of accomplishment from completing races. Last time I did it was, I think, in 2003 or 2004 and I finished in 2 hours and 50 minutes. I was much fitter then than I am now, so who knows how I might fare this year, but I think it’s a good goal to aim for.

So I’ve got a daily 2 mile walk until I’m cleared to run. Then I hope to get out 3 or 4 days a week for runs of 3-5km to start and building back up to 10km within a couple of months. Once the Grouse Grind opens up for the summer season (which may be early this year if the snowfall levels remain so low I suspect) I’d like to get out to hike once every week or two.

The Seek The Peak Relay usually takes place early July… I’ve got 5 months. I hope I’ll manage to get back to a ~1hr 10km and lose about 25 lbs by then. I have 15 pregnancy pounds left to lose.

Anyone want to run the Seek The Peak with me?

Dreams, Goals, Ambition

boat from underwater

Photo: Boogies with Fish on Flickr

Today I was reading Amber Strocel’s post on Re-evaluating Your Dreams and Desires and it got me thinking. I wrote in my last post that I’m turning over a new leaf this year; that I’ve decided to focus my efforts on things I have always wanted to do but never have instead of on things I think I should do for various reasons… for money… for success. Part of that is re-evaluating what’s important to me, what I have time for and what I have the heart to go after with the precious time I do have. The truth is, I can’t do it all. I can’t continue to do everything I’ve been doing and add to it with new things I’d like to do.

Like Amber, I’m a little stubborn. When I put my mind to doing something, I very much intend to complete it and will usually do so no matter what it takes. I have done some very unique things in my life: Among them, Combat Engineer training with the Canadian Armed Forces, earning my black belt in SKF Kickboxing, losing 60 lbs and running a half marathon. I have a million more things in my bucket list too.

It pains me to quit anything I’ve started.

I’ve decided to give up Urban Shore. While I still believe the concept is a good one and it could be successful if I were to dedicate the time to it that it requires, it’s just not in my heart to do it. It would take far more hours than I’d really anticipated to build it up to what I’d like it to become. I had a vision for it – a community where local residents and business owners can benefit from one another… where locals can find out about what’s available in their own neighborhood and merchants can engage with those residents… a community where everyone could be proud of where we live and who we are. I was planning, in time, to add a mobile subscription component, menus, event listings and more, but really just didn’t give this project the attention it needed, or deserved.

Instead, I will be focusing my efforts on some very real dreams, goals and ambitions this year:

  • Songwriting, performing and recording
  • Health & Fitness – running, racing and triathlon
  • Helping my husband start a new business

In the coming weeks I will write in detail about each of these endeavors… the challenges and the rewards.

What are you focusing your efforts on this year?

Turning Over a New Leaf in 2010

Photo: tibchris on Flickr

Here we are at the start of a new year… a new decade… a new era… and a new blog theme.

The Olympics are coming to Vancouver; I have a brand new baby boy; I’ve just begun a year without my day job and I feel like I’m poised on the edge of a cliff, waiting in anticipation of what twists and turns 2010 will bring.

I stopped blogging for a long time. I don’t want to become a “Mommy Blogger”. I don’t believe being a mom is everything I am nor will it ever be, but certainly the past few months have left me with little else to think about. Now that mini-boy is here and mini-man is a big brother I have had some time to think more about how I’d like to take advantage of the upcoming year and the opportunity it presents.

For so long I told myself if I had another child I’d make the most of a year’s maternity leave and try and make my way as a self-employed marketing consutant/contractor with a goal of being self-sufficient and 100% self employed by the time mini-man starts full time school in September 2011. I started blogging; I connected with a host of very skilled people and thought leaders via social media in order to equip myself with the knowledge to move forward confidently; I worked my LinkedIn and Twitter connections and built Urban Shore to draw attention to myself in the local business community. I spent countless hours outside of my day job working towards this goal… it was no small investment. Just ask big-man or mini-man. They’ve both seen far more of the back of me at my computer than they ever should have had to.

Now that my second maternity leave has finally presented itself, I hesitate to keep it up.

I love what I do. I love my day job; I love solving problems; I love communicating with people; I love influencing people and I love seeing the direct results of my efforts. But this year of complete and total uncertainty presents a very special opportunity to do… well, anything.

See, not only am I home every day with my two kids, but big-man has been off work for over a year too. He’s on WorkSafe BC benefits from an injury to his arm that he sustained on the job last December. Now, after months of physiotherapy, surgery and rehabilitation, he’s been told his arm will never be fixed enough to go back in to construction so he’s negotiating for training in another field. Neither of us knows how much longer he’ll be on benefits, nor do we know what the future might have in store for him.

You might think the safe bet might be the best bet in a situation like ours… but for months now I’ve been feeling a pull towards focusing my efforts on other things. Things I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Things I think I was created to do. Things that can and will make a difference in the lives of those around me. And I really don’t care if it will never become lucrative.

I want to spend more quality time enjoying my kids. I want to spend more time enjoying my husband and, let’s face it, being a better wife. I want to spend more time investing in my friends and family… really connecting with them. I want to spend more time enjoying the outdoors, both alone and with my family. And I want to spend more time writing music.

So here’s to a new beginning… of what? I’m not sure. We’ll have to wait and see.

If you could do anything in the world and you knew you couldn’t fail and money was no object… what would you choose to do with your life?