The Misadventures of MHC

Porch Light

August 12, 2026August 12, 2026 by maryhelenc, posted in Life, Relationships, work life

Greetings from…wherever the Hell I am this week!

Currently I’m about 35 minutes outside of Ottawa, once again on the road for my job. Between my job and life, I feel like I’ve been living out of my suitcase for much of this year. Back and forth to Sudbury and Halifax, now Ottawa. In between have been vacations to Manatoulin Island, weddings, and music weekend with my father in law coming up. I used to crave this kind of adventure, and now I just want to stay at home for a few days and sleep in my own bed.

From the time I was very young, I would long for the days of going to new places, staying in hotel rooms, seeing new things, and meeting new people. My childhood was very lonely, and my teen years were spent in a happy foster home in a very small town. I had friends and I loved my family, but I always had this dream of going to big cities and doing glamorous things. I didn’t want to be the girl who stayed in her small town and never experienced anything else.

With my job, I get to travel, but it’s to a combination of large and small towns. I’m always somewhere new. I’ve found restaurants and hotels and all sorts of cool places that I’m excited to show my family. I don’t need to pack up my life and move around; I can just travel with my job and build a new career with a company that I’m really part to be a part of. But I also find how much I’ve grown to love the stability of my home.

And the view from my home isn’t too shabby

I’ve never had a permanent home before; I had rentals that I longed to call home. But having my permanent place in the universe has afforded me a sense of peace that I had never really felt before. That sense of calm when I wake up in the morning and hear the sounds of the lake and the birds from my window; sounds that I struggle to sleep without. Sometimes in the middle of the night I walk through my home and feel my feet against the hardwood floor and feel an overwhelming sense of security.

I often wonder if my wanderlust was born from the lack of stability under my feet. As a kid we moved a lot for a variety of reasons; my father’s illness, our finances, etc. Growing up in the system doesn’t lend a lot of security, even though I feel blessed that I spent six years with a loving foster family. As an adult, I moved a lot because my first husband and I couldn’t agree on where to live, due to finances, or just wanting something better for the kids. I think a major part of that desire to move from place to place was because I had never known what home felt like. The concept of a childhood bedroom or a place that was truly yours was something I never knew, so it wasn’t something I ever longed for. I was always afraid I’d be suffocated if I had a regular life as a wife with a house and a dog…

…and now I’m a wife with a house and a dog. However, I’m also still an independent person who has a career and travels a lot. Is this what a truly balanced life is like?

Despite all of the hardships this past year, I feel like the positive is that life feels like it’s finally balanced. Thanks to my job, I feel like I’ve finally found a way to balance my need to explore with my long buried desire to have a home and a partner. That’s not to say it’s easy. The back and forth means sometimes I miss out on things I love back at home; petting my cats, watching Monday Night Raw with the kids, navigating my role as a stepmother and trying to be the best version of myself for them, going to my gym, or spending time with my husband. But there’s also this sense of security. I don’t have to worry about the things I would in my past relationships; I don’t have to worry that my partner is going to cheat on me or resent me while I’m away. Long distance isn’t easy and we did it for over a year, so we are better equipped than most to handle the weeks I have to be in Sudbury or Halifax or a random town outside of Ottawa. I’ve never trusted anyone else like him, and even though it sucks being away, it makes coming back home so much better knowing I get to come home to the love of my life.

So while there are moments where it feels like I am never home, and I am simultaneously excited for the opportunities while my heart aches for my home, I feel like I’ve finally found the best of both worlds. I get to build a career without feeling suffocated or resented, and I also get to come home to all of my favourite people (and cats) in a home that’s truly mine.

Tacocat doesn’t understand why mom travels. She will need kitty therapy

Look at my life

July 5, 2026August 12, 2026 by maryhelenc, posted in Life, When Things Suck Hard

Alexander Ovechkin signed a one year deal with the Washington Capitals.

I was doing my normal doomscrolling, learning all about NHL free trade frenzy and Taylor Swift’s wedding, when I saw the news that Alexander Ovechkin had signed a one year deal with the Washington Capitals. After seeing the news, I did what I had done for so many years; I dialled my mom’s number to tell her and also tell her how he wasn’t handsome, he looked like a weird muppet. The call said the customer I had reached had not initialized their voicemail.

The number was active. Someone was using it and hadn’t initialized their voicemail. They were possibly putting it on business cards or giving it out at bars, hoping to make a connection. Maybe it was on a resume for a job. But there was one thing that it wasn’t; it wasn’t my mom’s number anymore.

Truthfully I haven’t dialled the number in a long time. My mom’s decline was slow and by 2024, she didn’t really know how to use her phone often. It was a number I called to get that familiar message that voicemail wasn’t initialized, wishing maybe dementia wasn’t real and I could have a conversation with my mom about what to make for dinner or reality TV. But grief doesn’t care about facts or logic. It only triggers a memory that makes you want to talk to your mom about a weird looking hockey player only to remember there is no one to talk to anymore.

My mom’s passing has been an odd period of grief. I didn’t really allow myself to feel the weight of loss because I was the executor of her estate. I had to close bank accounts and pick up ashes. I had to plan memorials (with the help of my sister) and call family, and bite my tongue when I learned that family doesn’t always mean what you think, as I waited for condolences from relatives that never came. Then I threw myself into my job, into helping my husband cope with the devastating loss of his own mother, and pretending that I was fine. I was perfectly fine until Alexander Ovechkin signed a new deal with the Washington Capitals and I remembered my mom would never watch another Capitals game ever again.

My mom loved hockey. As a kid, I never liked it. It always felt like a secret thing my mom and brother did together and my sister and I weren’t welcome. As a teenager, I developed a passing interest in the Red Wings and became a goalie apologist because Chris Osgood was dreamy. In Edmonton hockey is enmeshed in our culture. Ryan Nugent Hopkins helped my kid plant a vegetable garden at his school when he was six. But it wasn’t until I became friends with a born and raised Oilers fan that I realized how much fun the sport (or how emotionally devastating) the sport could be.

Unlike me, my mom always loved hockey. She named my brother after a Maple Leafs Goalie. When I was a kid, Wendell Clark was her guy. She was a ride or die Leafs fan, and told me stories about when she followed their farm team to every game for an entire season with her friends before she met my dad. However, over the years, she stopped being a fan of a team and just enjoyed the game until Alexander Ovechkin became her guy. He was THE hockey player. She read books about him, knew every stat, and collected Ovechkin merch. All of it played into silly fan superstitions that we would tease her about and when the Capitals won the Stanley Cup, she sat there drinking a bottle of Baby Duck wine and celebrating like it was the greatest day of her life. My mom didn’t drink; she had one rum and eggnog every Christmas and one pina colada at Mother’s Day brunch. But here she was pounding back glasses of the world’s shittiest Prosecco (while clamming it was champagne) and breaking my good wine glasses with joy. It was that serious.

One of the last things we did together before her stroke was go to a preseason game with my kids. My son was terrified of the Oilers mascot and ran away like he saw a fire. We ate popcorn. We cheered. She didn’t ask me when I was going to meet someone because kids need a father figure. She didn’t criticize my hair or tell me I worked too much. We just had fun. We finally had a common interest that we enjoyed, even if we didn’t like the same teams. But most of all, she was excited that she finally had an interest we could talk about, that is, until she couldn’t talk about anything anymore.

In the early days of grief, I didn’t feel any. I felt relieved. My role as caretaker was over. But those turned to anger when I saw that life just went on without any condolences, or baskets of muffins that people send in the wake of death. There was just a call from a doctor and unreturned messages and voicemails from extended family, as they carried on with their day like nothing of note happened.

There was anger that my mom’s ashes were spread on my father’s unmarked grave that hadn’t been visited. The anger that comes from feeling like someone whose life was complex and difficult was gone, and it felt like the universe moved and no one noticed. So I moved along and threw myself into my life, all while feeling guilty that I wasn’t grieving like I should. After all, my mother in law had passed and my husband needed me. He was struggling and I wanted him to be okay. My kids were grief stricken, wondering why the Earth just kept spinning as if the little old lady who made Pillsbury cookies with them while she yelled at the Blue Jays was gone.

In this space, I sit in a weird limbo, waiting for calls from aunts and uncles that will never ever come telling me “I’m sorry your mom died and you did a good job taking care of her for so many years. I’m sorry she missed your wedding. She would have loved it I’m sure.” But also wondering how one day you’re sitting at Rogers Place celebrating your daughter’s birthday, and then just a few short years later, you’re unable to go to your granddaughter’s graduations, the very dates you swore you had to stay healthy enough to attend, and gone 18 months before you even have the chance to attend your grandson’s, passing alone in the Royal Alexandra Hospital because your caretaker daughter couldn’t get there in time. That guilt settles in like an old friend I don’t want to talk to anymore. I wonder if she knew she was alone. Was it a rare moment of lucidity, aware that we couldn’t get there. Did she think we didn’t want to be there? Or was she content in her ALS induced delusions, thinking we were all still by the fireplace at a house I haven’t lived in for a long time, imagining a long ago Christmas morning or birthday with a Betty Crocker cake her grandchildren made.

I’ll never really know.

But I do know that her old Ovechkin Bleacher Creature remains on a bookshelf in a long term care facility. They begged me to let them keep it as a reminder of her after she died. The Ovechkin Funkos remain in my eldest daughter’s collection. The jersey in my youngest daughter’s closet. These once important collectibles are no longer good luck charms for games or decor for a room in a home I no longer live in. They are scraps of a person whose number has been reassigned and doesn’t know that her favourite player renewed with his team. But they exist to remind us that she existed, even if only to us.

Hit the wall

June 1, 2026June 1, 2026 by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard, work life

This year has broken me down in so many ways and it just keeps on going.

Four months and 23 days after losing my mom, my mother in law passed away after a long battle with Parkinson’s. While my relationship with my own mother had its peaks and valleys, my mother in law could only be described as the most wonderful lady in the entire world. Some of my fondest memories as a young girl were having dinner with my husband’s family, and his mom spending the entire evening chatting with me, complimenting my hair and clothes and telling me about some new product she bought. I had never seen a family like theirs; so full of love and respect, like a sitcom family, and she was the figurehead of this magical group of people I longed to spend time with. She was this beacon of joy and light. As I grew, she’d still treat me like I was her favourite person when she’d run into me on the street. I wasn’t treated like a random girl her son used to date; I was always welcomed like an old friend she was delighted to run into. When I’d talk to my husband on the phone long before we took a step towards a future, he’d always make it a point to tell me that his mom asked about how I was and I’d always reply with “awwwww I love your mom so much!”

Years later, I finally got my wish to join this family. I was so excited because I got to be her daughter in law. Unfortunately, by then her illness had advanced, and my youthful dreams of us wedding dress shopping and chatting up my friends on the dance floor at my wedding remained locked away in my imagination. But we had a chance to spend time together and in those times, I was treated with the same warmth and love.

Every time I look at my ring, I remember how much she would fawn over it and tell me how much she loved it

This grief is different. This grief is laced with longing for moments that didn’t happen, a photo together, and the overarching guilt that comes from wishing things had worked out earlier, and feeling like you’re disrespecting the family you’re blending by feeling that way. There’s also the sadness and helplessness that comes from watching your husband feel the weight of grief and knowing there’s nothing you can do to help him other than just be there.

It just seems like the never ending spectre of grief refuses to leave my home. He just lingers, stealing the people we love most slowly, chipping away at their faculties until they leave us physically. Every time I pull myself up from under the weight of it, a new thing pulls me back under. My sister has a health scare, my beloved cat Peachy starts showing signs of cognitive decline. The darkness that has enveloped my family this year seems to have taken permanent residence here, at least for now.

However, in the wake of all of this sadness, I search for silver linings. Those silver linings will guide me through the fog of sadness that haunts my home. I love my new job. I feel challenged, and even scared. I’m pushing myself out of my comfort zone for the first time in a long time. Sometimes I feel very overwhelmed and scared that I’m not going to do well, and that feeling helps me focus and push myself. I can’t remember the last time I really had to push myself to succeed and it’s so empowering. Maybe that sounds crazy, but I can feel my confidence growing. I feel myself taking accountability when something doesn’t work. But more importantly, I feel myself becoming someone better than before. That person will find her way and become a success.

Also, I started at a new gym. My daughter and I started doing HIIT and it has been so much fun. My weight has been an issue for some time, and it bothers me that I don’t feel…hot. So I took a huge step to improve. I may be the oldest and fattest, but my daughter and I are doing something together. We laugh and have fun. It makes me so happy to just go and do these silly workouts with her and just enjoy each other’s company. And I feel better. I feel healthier and I can’t wait to see results as we go.

I look at where I live and I do my best to be grateful. I have a beautiful home with a magical view. I have a wonderful blended family. I have my health. I have an amazing sister who I love. My husband and I have each other. I have so many good friends. I have my beloved cats. Most of all, I have the knowledge that my mom wouldn’t want me to live my life under a shadow of grief. She’d want me to live a happy life with my husband and try to enjoy being a newlywed.

Sometimes when things seem dark, the only way to move forward is to remind yourself of those silver linings and use them to propel you back into the light. It seems silly, but sometimes those silver linings can be a lifeline that will guide you through whatever storms come along; which I’ve learned can feel sometimes never ending.

But What if I Fly?

April 21, 2026 by maryhelenc, posted in Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, When Things Suck Hard

It’s been a weird year and it’s only April.

After two months of closing bank accounts and dealing with estate matters, my sister, kids, and I laid my mother to rest by scattering her ashes on my father’s grave. After 41 years, my parents have finally been reunited. The entire experience was a bit of a mind fuck. I didn’t know my dad even had a grave site until last year, and the site doesn’t have a headstone. While I know his spirit is long gone, but there’s something so sad about my dad being all along with no visitors and no marker that acknowledges he’s even there. It sounds so terribly lonely. But now my mom is there to keep him company, and my kids used their ingenuity to makeshift a marker until we can have one built. They’re the best.

While this has been a stressful and draining experience, there have been some positives. I’ve been spending more time talking with my older sister after years of losing touch. Our lives always took us in different directions, so it’s been so nice to chat more and reconnect. I was fortunate to have my best friends supporting me during an insane time. My husband stepped up to help me any way that he could and that wasn’t easy. The combination of grief, guilt, homesickness, and loneliness for my friends made me impossible to be around. I was easily angered, I was snappy, but he stayed the course with patience and grace. I had always known marriage to be isolating during hard times, but I’ve learned all about what it means to live those vows as I was definitely for worse and he helped me get back to for better.

I just wanted to show you more wedding pics lmao

But the loss of my mother hasn’t been the only change. The winters are long and roads are closed often, leading to days of isolation. My husband works an erratic shifts as part of his job, and when he was on nights I barely saw him. I was lonely and felt unable to do my job to the best of my ability. I loved my team but the commute, the job stress, and the growing costs of that commute were weighing me down. I felt like I wasn’t doing anything well and I started making changes.

I started going to the gym more. I hate how I look so I need to lose the weight. I’ve been working with Noom and now working out. I signed up for the Million Reasons Run for the fourth year and I’m raising money for Stollery Children’s Hospital (click the link to donate!) I cut out all of the junk food and focused on really being the person I was when I was happiest in my life. It’s been a game changer. Ontario winters are gloomier than Alberta winters, so it was what I needed to shake the doldrums.

Also, and more importantly, I went back to therapy. My entire life has changed in a year. I moved across the country. I left a job I truly loved and wanted to stay at forever. I got married to the love of my life. My mom died. All sorts of things have changed and it was wearing me down. I love my husband so much but he’s not a therapist. He’s my biggest supporter but I needed more to be healthy. So I made a choice to go back to therapy and it’s been a game changer. I feel heard all of the time. I’m learning to communicate my emotions better. I feel lighter. I’ve always been a huge advocate for therapy and I’m so glad that I made this choice for myself.

Finally, the last step I took was get a new job. I spent a long time thinking about what it was about my job with Google that made me so happy to go to work every day. It was the people, the culture, that feeling of being valued. It was building my own schedule and that feeling you got when you spent weeks with an employee and it clicked and they bought in to the Google vision. I wasn’t feeling that. There were positives, but I wasn’t experiencing that excitement to go to work. So when an opportunity to join a new company doing something completely new popped up, your girl was all over it. I work hybrid remote so I have more work life balance. I’m doing something totally different, so I feel challenged. But most importantly, I feel excited. I’m excited by what I’m doing and excited to develop my skills and excel in this role. The better pay helps, but for me it’s all about learning something new and discovering new things about myself. I feel rejuvenated in a way I haven’t felt since I started at Google. I’ll miss everyone at my old job, but I’m so happy that I made the move. Not to mention my view from my home office is pretty great lol.

It’s been a weird year, but also a wild ride. The lows have been really low, but there’s also been some incredible highs that have kept me sustained. Those highs keep me hungry for what’s next, and optimistic about the future while I finally start to feel like where I am is where I’m meant to be.

Nostalgia

February 24, 2026 by maryhelenc, posted in Life, Mommydom, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, When Things Suck Hard, work life

2026 started off with a big old pile of suck.

After almost six years of struggling with cognitive decline from ALS and dementia, my mother passed away. Losing a parent sucks; I know this from experience. However, losing a parent under these circumstances is weird. My mom and I had a very strange relationship. I felt more like her parent than she was mine. For most of my childhood and even my adult years, she didn’t really like me. I’m sure she loved me and my sister to the best of her ability, but she didn’t like me. Part of my grief was grieving the mom I always wanted. The mom who cared about my day. The mom who didn’t yell hateful things at me and then buy my forgiveness with toys, while I waited for my sister to come home and give me the hugs that offered me the comfort and security I longed for. Part of me longed for those moments as an adult where we felt like friends. We could have conversations and watched TV. It was nice, and sometimes I’d call her phone in the hopes that she’d answer and we could talk about reality TV and Jeopardy.

My grief took a backseat to arrangements, phone calls, and the realization that people who should care just didn’t. As I comforted my children and worked out details with my sister, I waited for the phone calls from her siblings that never came. I was offered flimsy excuses and I was told to protect my peace, but I don’t feel peaceful sitting idly by while they treat my mom’s passing as a headline they don’t care about. It’s stupid, but she used to tell me she worried they wouldn’t even care if she died; she was right. I guess that hurt as much as her passing. There’s something so sad about knowing someone’s worst fear is a reality and you’re just watching it happen.

But mostly, I find myself just sitting in a world of memories, trying to make sense of how I feel about this loss in my life. Am I relieved that my role as caregiver is over? Am I devastated that we will never have a normal chat again? Or am I glad her pain is gone? I don’t really have an answer, so I throw myself into work and memories of times that felt better than right now.

Sometimes I’m seven years old and sitting in front of a red panda cage at the zoo. It’s summer and I spent months asking to go. My mom is overwhelmed; three young kids alone at the zoo, especially when one didn’t want to go can be a lot. There’s that moment where I desperately wanted a plush red panda, but she couldn’t afford it. I didn’t understand then; all I knew was that my mom was a big meanie who didn’t want me to have a red panda of my very own. The years passed, and I was a single mother myself. I remember the times I would have to say no to movies or treats, or that I would have to miss things because I had to work to keep us cared for. I’d lay in bed at night covered in guilty tears and I’d think about how mad I’d get when we were so poor and I just wanted normal experiences and I thought about how she must have felt the same way.

Sometimes I’m 14 years old and I had to miss a day of school to go to court. The social workers said mom had improved, and two years of society wardship was almost up. I was so sure that she’d find a new townhome and we’d go back to live together. Instead I found out she had agreed we would become wards of the Crown. We would never be a family again. Not in the same way. I felt so angry and rejected and sobbed on my bed. My foster parents explained that sometimes the best thing a parent can do to express their love is to allow their kids the space to grow up safe and happy. Sometimes that means understanding that they aren’t right for the job. I didn’t understand that then, but I do now.

Sometimes I’m 21. I’m pregnant. I’m covered in bruises. Three of my ribs are broken. I’m scared to tell anyone what’s wrong. I meet my mom for coffee and I muster up the nerve to explain what’s going on in my life. Before I do, she tells me how relationships take work and you can’t just break off an engagement for any old reason, so I say I slipped on ice and that’s how I broke my ribs. I go home, feeling hollow and empty, wishing I had a mom I could confide in.

Sometimes I’m 36 and it’s my birthday. I went for my run and I’m enjoying the quiet. My mom gives me a phone number of her pharmacist’s son. Apparently I’ve been single for too long. “I just want you to be happy.” I give up trying to explain that I am happy. I have my kids and fitness and my job. But we have good conversations now, and it’s nice sometimes.

Finally it’s November. I haven’t spoken to her in a few weeks. Mostly because she’s not there. Every conversation made me realize that she doesn’t know me; she doesn’t know where she is. Gone was the quasi friendship we found as adults. There’s just a void where a person I knew used to be. But my phone rings and it’s my mom. She asks about my wedding, about my kids. We talked about sports and it was like she wasn’t sick anymore. It was a normal chat. When it was time to hang up, she said “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.” I promised I’d visit her in April and bring her chocolates from her favourite chocolatier here in town…

…but six weeks later she was gone.

Everything after was a whirlwind. Maybe I’ll be able to grieve next month when my siblings and I scatter her ashes. Or maybe I’ve been grieving since her stroke and never knew. But I like to think she’s with my dad; finally happy and at peace after a lot of years of struggling and regret. Maybe it’s that thought that helps me feel at peace. It also helped me realize that it’s so important to plan ahead, because it’s hard to grieve when you’re dealing with a bunch of arrangements and you don’t know what you’re doing and you just want your Mommy to be there, even if the memories of her being the kind of mommy you wanted are fleeting and rare.

But I’ll take solace in that last chat. She knew I’d be okay because I have my children, my husband, and my wonderful friends and extended family. No matter how dark things feel, I have so much warmth and light to guide me.

Old Enough

December 1, 2025December 1, 2025 by maryhelenc, posted in ASH Photography, Life

Hello!

It’s that time again, where things in my life get busy, so I post a series of pics that encapsulate my year (minus photos of my children).

This year was a wild ride. I was forced to relocate from the city I called home for almost a decade. I started over in a small town, and found a new job. I cried on my couch when my beloved Oilers lost the Stanley Cup finals. I went on adventures and met new people. Tacocat was lost but came home. I married my best friend and blended a family. There was joy and heartache and I still struggle with impostor syndrome when I wake up in my lake house listening to the waves while my husband makes breakfast. I feel like I grew in so many ways, and now I’m excited for what comes next.

Happy holidays friends! I can’t wait to see what 2026 has in store!

Just like every year, if you ever want to follow along with my life in pictures, you can follow me on Snapchat!

Thoughts? Feedback? Just want to share ideas or chat? Send me an email or contact me on social media!

Worth It

November 4, 2025November 4, 2025 by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, Mommydom, Relationships

Guess what y’all?!

THAT’S RIGHT! YOUR GIRL IS ALL WIFED UP.

I may be married now, but my last name is still the same, so I don’t need to update any branding lol. I’m still just plain old MHC

On a perfect October day, with our kids and closest family and friends as witnesses, my best friend and I promised to share our lives and build a family. I couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful day. Everything was perfect. The weather was perfect. The venue was perfect. The celebration was perfect. The person waiting for me at the other end of the aisle is perfect. It was the most magical, low key day I could have imagined and I’m so grateful to all of my friends and family for making it happen. From my beloved husband, who worked so much overtime to make sure the move didn’t derail our wedding, to one of my best friends who drove for four hours with my dream wedding cake, to one of my other best friends who acted as the greatest officiant ever , and everyone who showed up even when my own immediate family didn’t, I felt like the luckiest girl on the planet.

Photo credit: Michal Norbert photography. Cake credit: Sweet Stuff Cakes Edmonton

The day before the wedding felt like a recipe for disaster. I was panicking, had been awake since 5:30am Thursday morning. It rained. The rental was delayed and locked my husband’s credit card in error. My nephew was car sick. A bottle of conditioner leaked on my stepdaughter’s dress. Our appointment to get our license was delayed. The maid of honour was behind schedule. I was so frazzled that I cried when Shoppers sold out of my favourite bottled water. I’m talking ugly sobbing in the car while my husband tried to make me feel better.

I was so convinced that the universe didn’t want us to get married. But as I was exhaustedly trying to hold it all together, everyone I love was helping me relax so I could see it’ll be okay. My best friends brought the cake and also peach water to placate me. Another friend added moonshine to the water and your girl slept like a newborn baby haha. A blow dryer and a damp cloth saved the dress. The Blue Jays won so the rehearsal dinner was a celebration (yes I know what happened next).

By the next morning, I was drinking mimosas with my girlfriends while my daughters and stepdaughter got glammed and I had never been more relaxed in my life. All of the panic and fear was gone. Just cucumber cool. There was only the realization that I was finally going to have the life I imagined for myself when I was 19. Every roadblock, misstep, city I ran away from, bad date, lame job, tinder troll, and tear I shed was to get me to that hotel in Canmore in a white dress with my favourite human being waiting for me. Maybe it was because I was four mimosas deep, or watching my kids and stepkids goofing around and taking pics so happily from the window, or just the emotion of the day, but every single thing I had to go through to get to this place was absolutely worth it.

It was a long road to get here from that first meeting at a party when we were 16 and 18 years old. It was filled with heartache and tears. It was filled with joy and professional success. I went on adventures and made friends who became my family (and I found them all in cell phone stores). I had my heart broken more than a few times. I lost everything and built myself back up from the ashes more times than I’d like to admit. But every single scar and tear and smile and laugh brought me to the place where I was meant to be. And suddenly the concept of matrimony, a lifetime with someone; it no longer felt terrifying. It was the best decision I’ve ever made.

Photo credit: Michal Norbert photography

For once, I wasn’t worried about my weight or my appearance or if I was making everyone happy. I was just in the moment and I finally experienced the feeling of complete happiness I’d read about in books and seen at other people’s weddings. But today it was for me. It was a level of joy I took back into my regular life, as this trip to the mountains was only 48 hours and we have yet to take a honeymoon. That joy radiates in every part of my life now. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I’m still in awe that this is even my life. I have all of the things I used to dream about; family dinners where we ask each other about our days, a family group chat full of jokes and laughs from a kooky blended family that tries to get along, baseball games and wing nights with my father in law (one who actually enjoys my company), standing on my front porch with the knowledge that this is my home, and quiet mornings with my husband in our favourite coffee shop in our sleepy little town.

It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced before. That feeling of wholeness and ease about your own life. There’s no conflict or fighting. There’s no yelling or anger. There’s no feeling of dysfunction or that feeling of being on the outside looking in, feeling like you’re too damaged or broken to be loved or desired by anyone. There’s no quiet resignation to a life that’s empty.

I’m finally home.

Thoughts? Feedback? Just want to share ideas or chat? Send me an email or contact me on social media!

The Ocean Grew Hands to Hold Me

October 2, 2025October 4, 2025 by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, Relationships, When Things Suck Hard, work life

Guess what guys?! I’m getting married in SIXTEEN DAYS!

There’s so many emotions; excitement to see my friends, happiness that I am finally living the life I prayed for when I was 19, concern that every detail will be perfect…

Oh yeah, AND THE OVERWHELMING FEELING OF DREAD!

Don’t worry everyone, I googled it and according to a bunch of wedding websites that both amused and terrified me; THIS IS TOTALLY NORMAL! Apparently pre-wedding jitters are totally a thing and I will definitely not try to run away from this wedding (also my fiance has already promised to hide the car keys just in case). It’s weird how the concept of marriage was so abstract and far away, but now that it’s here, it’s kind of terrifying.

The truth is that there’s nothing to be afraid of really. We already live together. We have blended a family and aside from a few hiccups involving a sick cat, the dog eating my glasses, and some growing pains, it’s gone well. I absolutely adore my new stepkids and I’m so impressed by their maturity and patience while my beloved squad of chaos goblins take over their home and lives. We are very different families, but it somehow works. I’m still adjusting to what it means to live with someone. I’m a bit of a control freak and I like things a certain way. My fiancé is kind enough to acquiesce to some of my quirks and demands so that I feel comfortable, and lets me rant about my feelings and need to feel independent without offering advice or suggestions. He’s just a calming presence. I’m not afraid of our life; in fact I rather enjoy it. It’s the fear of this life blowing up that brings about the dread. For my entire teenage and adult life, my fiancé has been my best friend. If this implodes, then I lose my best friend and that terrifies me.

Rational me realizes that is insane. We have navigated so many hurdles to be together; impulsive youth, bad timing, more bad timing, the crazy ex girlfriend incident where he was terrorized by a monster who forced her way into his home and abused him for three years. Then the same crazy ex girlfriend stalking him for years after destroying our home when he finally had to force her out with police. We faced the fear of crossing that line and built a new chapter of our relationship while travelling back and forth across the country. We build a foundation for twenty five years before we crossed that line. Again, WE LIVE TOGETHER. Everything is fine. But yet, in the middle of the night, I worry, what if it all goes to Hell. Of course it doesn’t help that I accepted a new position so I’m navigating a new role in a new city, trying to figure out how to thrive while still navigating my new normal. I’m learning to live with someone, joint finances, how to be a good stepmom, how to be a good mom when I’m out of the house so much more than I used to be, how to be a dog mom, or where the grocery store is. Add in wedding planning, the sick cat, and the dog who ate my glasses, and I’m overwhelmed and possibly overstimulated.

I think I’ve been in fight or flight mode for so long that I don’t know how to just enjoy my life. I’ve waited so long to be truly happy that now I’m not sure what happens next, like those fish in Finding Nemo. Does anyone else feel happy and then wonder when the other shoe is going to drop and then it’ll all be gone, or is that just me? Are these normal feelings to feel sixteen days out from your wedding? Or are these normal feelings from being sleep deprived, still adjusting to a new job, timezone, and town and also getting married in sixteen days?

I’ve realized that I definitely took on more than I can handle over the last three months. This has also made me a bit crazy. This means obsessing about every little issue while my fiancé wishes I was actually normal. He’s definitely glad the wedding will be over in 16 days. But I can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. The universe put all of this on me because it knows I can handle all of the crazy changes that have been happening and life will be peaceful once again.

Or it’ll all go to Hell. Either way, it’s all gonna happen regardless so all of the worrying and panicking won’t change a damn thing so I may as well buckle up and enjoy the ride.

Thoughts? Feedback? Just want to share ideas or chat? Send me an email or contact me on social media!

New Lows

August 29, 2025 by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Dorkdom, Douchers, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

The last few months have been such a whirlwind, and it’s felt like it just never stops.

Nothing is as it was three months ago. My job is different, my address, my home, my car, etc. Nothing is the same. But every time I think I can finally adjust, something new gets thrown into the mix. Something like my cat going missing.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m absolutely obsessed with my cats. I love my cats more than I love most people. If you are reading this, there is a non zero percent chance that I love my cats more than I love you. Truthfully, unless you are one of my kids, my stepkids, my best friend, or my fiancé, there is 100% chance I love my cats more than I love you. So when Tacocat was lost, I LOST MY MIND. I cried every day. I pleaded with neighbours on every Facebook group, and searched every second. My sweet angel fiancé offered a massive cash reward for the safe return of my beloved Tacocat. Even my father in law, who’s not a cat person, helped me look for my beloved Tacocat…and then the little shit just came home like nothing happened! I have never been happier to see anything in my life! My teenager suggested we put AirTags on the cats, and we actually did. So now I know where they are at all times and I feel so much better.

After what seemed like the zillionth crisis in the last three months, I sat on the big comfy couch in my living room watching the rain through the big windows in my living room. I was just enjoying the elements and I finally got to appreciate that I was sitting in MY house, in MY living room, on MY couch. One thing I’ve struggled with is accepting that this is my home. This was my fiancé’s house long before I moved in, and I struggle with imposter syndrome. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life; like when a show recasts the lead with someone else. Sure you accept that recast, but there’s always that part of you that longs for the OG.

One of my struggles to adjust was the idea that I’m a never ending guest in my life. I would get inside my own head and wonder if I deserve this, or did I steal it from someone else? I’m just a weird person who talks a lot, is kind of annoying, and talks to her beloved cats like they’re people. How did I end up in a lake house with a really neat car (with profiles like an Xbox), a blended family, and a man who worships me and makes me feel safe and loved in everything that he does. But there’s a part of me that struggles to get comfortable, wondering if there’s actually supposed to be some other woman laying in my bed watching Drink Masters and enjoying the night air. Should some other women be wearing my ring and driving my car? Am I a stunt double in my own life?

Just in case you forgot how amazing the ring is lmao

It’s really hard to address those feelings when it feels like if it’s not one thing, it’s another fucking thing. It’s my car being delayed, or scrambling to find a job, or my cat being lost. You’re always trying to put out the fire, and you don’t get to navigate your own emotions. That’s been where I’ve been at. I’m not really sure how I feel because I’m not really getting a chance to live, just sort of exist.

But now things are settling down. Tacocat is back and received a clean bill of health from her vet. The kids are going back to school, and I was offered a promotion at my new job. My wedding is under 50 days away, I’m registering at a new gym, and my fiancé and I are finally getting some much needed alone time next week. Life is quieter and it allows me to appreciate that I have the life I have prayed for since I was 19. Three years ago I was so depressed I could barely breathe, and now I have almost everything I could ever ask for. It’s so strange how everything feels hopeless and then one day everything is magical. Maybe one day I’ll actually be able to embrace it and not wonder when the ground will be ripped out from under me.

Thoughts? Feedback? Just want to share ideas or chat? Send me an email or contact me on social media!

Oblivion

July 29, 2025 by maryhelenc, posted in Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, When Things Suck Hard

It’s so much harder to recover from a nervous breakdown than it was to have one. Going crazy was easy, putting it all back together feels harder than I thought it would be.

It’s easy to find your centre when this is inches from your front yard

It’s been about a month now and I’m slowly finding my new normal in my new surroundings. It’s weird. I don’t have to stress about rent because I live in my own home. But also it doesn’t feel like MY home. I feel like a bit of a squatter who just showed up and now just exists in a space. My sweet angel fiancé told me to do whatever it takes to make the space feel like ours, so I picked out a bunch of furniture to help make our space feel like ours. I can’t wait to arrange our living room and make the space feel like the home I’ve always dreamed of.

I started working, which is nice because I have my own income. It’s a bit of a commute, but I like the drive. It’s a massive pay cut, but I like my coworkers and I’m good at it. I miss my old job; my old colleagues. I loved what I did; it was challenging and engaging. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy what I do at my new job. I think it’ll be a good fit. I really want to do well, and I feel like lamenting that I couldn’t stay with my old company. Part of bouncing back means letting go of things you had to leave behind. This means putting my best foot forward and making this job work. I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’m not contributing. I basically earn enough to cover my bills and car. Once I do that I have about $12. I should be earning more. But then I also feel guilty because I’m not where I used to be. I’m not scratching and clawing for a living. I feel like I should be leaving the sales to the people who need the extra to live because for once, I’m not desperately trying to earn my way.

I miss my friends. I hate missing events. My best friend bought a new house and I won’t get to see it when I fly home to Alberta for my wedding in October. I miss ramen on Sunday mornings, or wings on Saturday night. On the flipside, I love catching up with friends I haven’t seen in years. One of my dearest friends is expecting her first baby and I can’t wait to meet her. I got to sit in a backyard with my best friend from high school and

we just got to talk shit and laugh. Even though it feels sad, there’s a silver lining.

I think the reason it’s been so hard to find my new normal because it’s such a bittersweet time. I love being close to family, but I miss the way things used to be at the same time. My life in Edmonton was incredible, and I miss it so much. I feel like I’m not really a contributor to my household and I want to be an equal and help provide for my newly blended family. But at the same time, I’m really excited about my life here. There’s something so reassuring about laying down beside my fiancé at night. I never used to be a touchy feely person, but he represents a feeling of safety I’ve never had before. I’ve never been with someone who is so devoted to me, our family, and committed to providing and protecting us. I used to be so afraid of committing to someone because the men I had shared a home with before didn’t offer security; just chaos and cruelty. For the first time in my life, there’s a level of security I’ve never had. No walking on eggshells for fear of having to move again. No more walking on eggshells for fear of another relationship turning toxic. He brings this sense of calm that makes me feel like I’m on the right track. Everything with him is so easy. So many people told me “the honeymoon phase will end and shit will get real,” but that didn’t happen. Even though we aren’t living a romance novel where he flies to see me every other month, the butterflies and that feeling that this is the right place never goes away.

I don’t feel like I’m completely back to normal yet, but I’m on my way. Each day I’ll get more comfortable, or I’ll just continue to convince my cats to all become friends like a weirdo