co-parenting – The Misadventures of MHC

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!

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

People and Things

May 19, 2025May 19, 2025 by maryhelenc, posted in Current Events, Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom

GUESS WHO IS MOVING AGAIN?!

That’s right!

The fam and I are on the move again!

(Now I know what you’re thinking, bitch we have been over this. Why won’t you stay in one god damn place. You promised us you weren’t gonna randomly move again, what the fuck)

Well let me tell you, it wasn’t the plan! Two months ago I renewed my lease. Five days ago, my landlords let me know they need to sell. The fam and I would have to move. Before I continue, I want to stress there will be no negativity about them. They have been absolutely the most incredible landlords and more people could be like them. They wouldn’t be putting me in this position unless it was an absolute necessity.

But, we are in that position. So, as I frantically get my house ready to show, I’m tired, I’m washing baseboards and walls, and trying to pack and look for something new all at once. I checked the rental market and I would be paying far more than I could afford if I stayed. So, I’ll be moving with my fiancé to our home in Ontario. That’s right folks, I’m actually moving towards something and not away! Someone mark this day down!

Maybe after years of running away and trying this or that, the universe really just wants me to go home. I love Edmonton. It is home to me, but maybe the universe feels differently. The last year has been a happy lesson that you can’t out run what’s meant for you, and maybe this is part of that lesson. For years I’ve run away from my emotions, my feelings, my subconscious fears. I’ve put them in a box and pretended they weren’t real. It worked until my fiancé flew across the country to beg for my affections. He knew all along I was the one, and jokes that it’s not always easy to hit a moving target. Any time I would get too attached, I’d move further away. It’s hard to make someone your wife when they fear commitment and are a bit of a flight risk (which is why he had to ask four times before I finally said yes). But the universe knew we both needed to go on life journeys before we could be together. I needed to find myself away from all of the noise and trauma and I did. The kids and I have evolved into people we like being. I wrote some really great articles. I found my passion for giving back to my community. I learned to stand up for myself and how to advocate for my family. But most importantly, I learned how to do it all on my own. I trusted the journey and I’ve learned the lessons. Maybe now it’s time to go home and start a new journey in a new role as a wife (and whatever job I find in my new town. I can’t bring my Google job. Please someone hire me).

Don’t worry, I genuinely thought about trying to stay or even jetting off to somewhere new. I thought about rural BC (where I could pan for gold or something), maybe another Alberta town. But none of it moved me like it used to. My teenager said that maybe Edmonton wasn’t the reason we did okay. Maybe it was me doing my job as mom and we could do that anywhere, but now I wouldn’t have to work so damn hard. My mom is in long term care and safe. My partner is a successful and intelligent man. We’d finally be a real family with two parents. I wouldn’t be paying rent; I would be living in a home I share with my family. Little pleasures that others take for granted were now a reality; painting bedrooms, planting gardens, hanging up art. No more separation from my partner for weeks on end. Every dream I had for my life since I was 19 was finally going to be a reality because I finally stayed in one place long enough for those dreams to catch up to me. Edmonton has been a magical place where I met my two best friends, I attempted to ski, I found success, and I even finally learned to drive. But now, the universe is telling me that the home I’ve always dreamed of is waiting for me, and it’s time for me to claim it.

I won’t lie; I’m terrified. I haven’t lived with a man for over ten years. What if I’m super set in my ways and won’t budge on anything? What if he doesn’t realize I only like Method cleaning products and I have to sleep on the side of the bed closest to a window? How am I supposed to get through my life without my best friend and ramen? What if the Stanley Cup Finals end after I leave (I’m cutting it close lmao) and I don’t get to see the Oilers win after embracing the local arts and culture? What if I miss city life and I crave traffic? What if I never find a job and I’m just a trophy wife? These are all valid, but I’m sure I had the same fears when I moved here ten years ago! I trusted the process then and I trust it now.

The next three weeks will be a blur, but the next chapter will be magical. It may not have been what I wanted, or maybe when I was ready, but maybe this change is what I need in order to grow as a person, and build a life with the person I’m meant to be with. So thank you Edmonton, for ten incredible years and some of the most magical times of my life. But now it’s time to go home

Friendly reminder that this is now basically my front yard now

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

This Personified

April 27, 2025April 27, 2025 by maryhelenc, posted in Life, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, Relationships

Let me tell you the story of how I finally got over my fear of commitment; or as I like to call it “How I learned to let go and learned to love the bomb.”

I grew up watching a woman lay down and die when her husband died. It shaped my entire identity from an early age. Abuse, starvation, constant moving, roach infested homes until I ended up in foster care. It shaped me to to think the only person in life I could truly count on was myself. The idea of a partnership scared me. I was determined to make sure I was in control of my destiny and I would never allow myself to become a simpering baby trapped by a man.

I had never been taught what a normal and healthy relationship looked like until I was 14, when I had wonderful foster parents who loved each other. But my foster mom was a stay at home mom. I love that she found something that made her happy, but it was terrifying to me. It reminded me of how easily things could go wrong if someone died. That fear of widowhood kept me frozen. The fear of not being in control, losing myself in someone and then being left alone. A young girl with very few healthy examples of a love that worked where both people are happy (not even on TV. Dawson’s Creek I am looking in your direction) had no idea how to navigate any kind of feelings, let alone that of a young man madly in love.

I’ve mentioned before, but my beloved fiancé asked me to be his wife when I was 19. A literal baby.

Actually, it was more like told me he was going to marry me. My response was what you would come to expect from me; I laughed. I told him about my goals and he swore he’d change my mind. Instead we broke up and I spent an entire weekend sobbing in my bed wondering where it all went wrong. I let those doubts creep into my mind every day as I grieved my first serious heartbreak. In the weeks that followed, we became friends and I threw myself headfirst into a relationship with a charismatic narcissist. I accepted the love I thought I deserved. I endured years of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. When I finally escaped, I married someone out of guilt and obligation. I was blessed with my kids, but how many times did I imagine just running with them into the night and never looking back so I could be free of the abuse and sadness and just take care of everyone on my own? The cycle of abuse returned and I was thrown into walls, pinned down and spit on. I was called names, had my darkest fears thrown in my face, and when I escaped again; I was tired. I entered on and off relationships, dates casually until finally I decided I loved myself enough to love only my kids and protect my heart from breaking.

What did this literal baby know about anything? She didn’t.

I didn’t know what romantic love should feel like. I didn’t know what it looked like. I didn’t know how to love myself. I only knew how to write and love my kids. I knew how not to be a mom from bad examples; my own mother. Never would I be like her. I knew how to learn to love myself. But I didn’t know what love looked like or how it should feel even though it kept slapping me in the face.

Throughout all of it, my ex boyfriend/best friend loved me and I refused to see it. I was afraid to see it. But he was steadfast in his love for me. He didn’t get mad that I married someone else after saying no to him. He met a wonderful woman and got married himself. While we were married to other people, he was my dearest friend. We spoke every day. He gave me advice. He told me to protect my beautiful heart from men who would break it (something he still regretted). We sent the other’s kids’ gifts. We were in each other’s corners. We were always there for each other any way we needed to be. Through divorces and recovery and mental health challenges. Even when I moved across the country, we were always there for each other. I didn’t realize that love was as simple as a person who showed up.

In the years that followed, I learned that love was about persistence. Love was the same boy, now a man, whose marriage had fallen apart, as he and his wonderful ex wife grew into different, but still incredible people.

That man once again asked me to be his wife. There was no laughing this time. There was fear. Fear of moving to a small town. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. Fear of losing my dearest friend. This time there was no laughter; there was only no. But I learned that love continues to show up. It was love that took him to work a 12 step program and embrace recovery; love for me and his family. It was love that gave me the ring made from a long ago promise to hold until he got on one knee and I stopped saying no (until it got stolen). It was designed after the one he said he would get me as an engagement ring when we were kids. He said it would be a placeholder until I was ready to say yes.

It was the absence of love for himself that kept him in a situation where he placated an abuser (whom was always meant to be a short term fling to get back on the saddle post divorce. For two years, when I’d ask if he was happy, he’d tell me no; he didn’t love her. Couldn’t stand her. His heart was mine alone. But if he tried to leave her she would turn violent and he was afraid she would harm his family). For two years he reminded me almost daily that when he was finally in a position to get out and away from her safely, he’d fly here and get down on one knee and this time, I wouldn’t say no. The abuse got so out of hand, he couldn’t speak to me for a year, and yet I somehow knew he wasn’t gone from my life forever.

But it wasn’t his love for me that helped him finally free himself from that abuse; it was the love for his family and a desire to be a good son and father. It was love for himself that took him to therapy. Love for me was what made him humble himself to call and apologize for disappearing, even though it wasn’t on him.

It was love who accepted a third no when I told him I was incapable of being with anyone; I was too damaged and too set in my ways. The truth is that I didn’t know what it meant to love someone other than my children. I just assumed I didn’t deserve love. But he was showing me what love was; commitment, communication, working to be better for someone other than yourself. It was persistence and patience and bravery. It was love that made him keep his word, overcome his fear of flying and love brought him here. Love was the reason he promised we could divide our time and I could remain in the mountains, because a week every other month was still better than any other woman on Earth. Love was enough; I was enough. I finally understood what it should feel like to be loved by someone. That’s why when he asked for a fourth time there was no laughing or running. I jumped and down and clapped. There was only yes.

I truly don’t think there’s been enough ring spam on this page lol

I was afraid of commitment, because I was never committing to him. It wasn’t the act I feared; it was to whom. I didn’t know what it meant to be loved by someone, but I sure as shit knew what it didn’t feel like. I knew what it didn’t look like. I knew it wasn’t in my marriage or anywhere else so I finally stopped looking. I found it in a pair of hazel eyes that stare so deeply into my own that I feel like we are one person. I hated myself so much that I couldn’t see how much he loved me. I didn’t see how seamlessly he’d stepped into the role of stepparent; so much so that my youngest two refer to him as their dad. I was trying so hard not to be helpless like my mom that I didn’t see that someone could love you and let you be free to do your own thing. I get to be myself in my most authentic form while also loved by a man who has made it as clear as day that I am his only choice. It was never about the act of getting married; it was that I was meant to build a life with him, and by doing that, I’m not afraid anymore.

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

Night Drive

July 16, 2024July 17, 2024 by maryhelenc, posted in Life, MH vs Dating, My New Life As Me, Relationships

GUESS WHO IS GETTING MARRIED?!

That’s right! ME. You probably guessed because if you follow me on social media, you would know that this ring is going to be my personality for the next eleventy million years. I’d apologize, but I am not the least bit sorry.

Also, before we get too deep into this, here are the ring details. It’s a 2.03 carat emerald cut lab diamond centre stone set in rose gold with a hidden halo. He designed the ring. I did not give any input. Yes, he’s that amazing and knew exactly what I wanted and designed it for me while I was sleeping.

Let us continue. I’m sure you have many questions, starting with how did this happen, why did this happen, and aren’t you afraid of commitment?

How is pretty straightforward. I had been telling my partner for weeks that if my beloved Oilers won the Stanley Cup, he should come to Edmonton for the festivities. INSTEAD THEY LOST (please respect my privacy during this time). To my surprise, he’d booked a flight and showed up anyway! We went for dinner and I took him to my favourite part of the city, and he asked me to marry him. No fancy speech, but he did cleverly take the ring out of the box so I had no idea he had it with him. He also didn’t get on one knee because it had rained and he didn’t want to get into the mud. My children and girl friends had been teasing him, but it’s since been corrected. It was private, simple, and perfect; zero chance a lady would say no.

For why did this happen?

I guess the short answer is because I’m in love with the man. Truthfully, I probably always have been in some way or another. The longer answer is much more complicated.

As kids we were wildly incompatible. In the height of young love, he told me he was going to marry me someday and I laughed at him, because I wasn’t the marrying type. Back then I had wild dreams of travelling the world as a reporter. I wanted to interview celebrities and travel to war zones. I didn’t want to be someone’s wife, and he wanted a picket fence and 2.5 kids. He told me when I was done adventuring, he intended to change my mind, but instead of him changing my mind, we just changed.

He grew resentful that my career aspirations came before his devotion and ended our young love affair abruptly. I nursed my broken heart and refocused on the goals; leaving our hometown and becoming a writer. When the dust settled, we restored our friendship, and he swore when I came home for Christmas, he’d win back my affection and change my mind. I did visit that Christmas, but we were both seeing someone else.

As time moves, so do priorities. Young love settles into friendship, and the days where you thought they were the one fade into the background. I got married out of necessity, and divorced to save my life. I raised my kids and went on my adventures, and he married a lovely person; getting the picket fence and family. Everyone got what they wanted, or so it seemed. Unfortunately, things don’t always work out the way you think they will.

Decades after our first date, we were both single again. However, we were both still stubborn. I wouldn’t leave the mountains, still wouldn’t be his wife. He insisted that he couldn’t leave his job, so I HAD to change my mind and move to his hometown, but I can’t uproot my family, not to mention I do not like when men tell me what to do. Soon enough, he called to tell me how he’d met someone else because he couldn’t wait for me to decide, and I faked the “I’m so happy for you,” while licking my wounds, burned by the fire of a flame almost rekindled. Through the ups and downs, and even a period where a jealous partner forbade us from speaking, the friendship always remained.

This time, he came to me, despite a fear of flying. Gone was the rigidity that had been there before. No longer was I expected to uproot my life. Now, I was free to remain in the mountains and we would balance our time. There were no conditions or expectations; he just loved me for me. No one had ever loved me for just me; not even he did the first time. I didn’t have to do anything or even reciprocate feelings; he just loves me. When someone loves you just as you are, without any conditions, it’s easy to decide what you want and how you feel. He works so hard to make me happy. He loves the kids and they view him as the father figure they’ve always wanted. He laughs at my jokes that aren’t funny and doesn’t get mad when I’m being irrational or annoying. He’s so damn good and the easiest person on Earth to love. How could you not want to marry someone like that? It took two decades but he finally changed my mind.

As for commitment, don’t worry, I’m still TERRIFIED. Fortunately my fiancé is a very patient man because most of our life together consists of me asking if he’s mad at me, if his family and friends like me, if he’s mad at me because what if his family and friends don’t like me, and panicking when we pick something for the wedding, reminding him that he doesn’t have to marry me. I’ve never known a life that is this easy. All of my previous relationships were chaotic or violent, sometimes both. I’ve spent all of my life scratching and clawing for everything I have, even if it seems insignificant to the rest of the planet. I struggle to rescind control and allow myself to work with a partner to build a life. He’s grown to be patient and open minded; I am still stubborn and determined to do everything on my own. I’m still annoying and the hardest person to love; I worry when he figures it out, he’ll be the one the change his mind. We absolutely cannot rule out that I will drive him bonkers while we blend a family and decide where we will live (eventually), and while we have talked about last names, I’ve been pretty open that I don’t want to change mine. But, if I don’t drive him completely insane, we are going to get married, and despite the geographical distance, for the first time in my life, I don’t feel like the ground is going to cave in from under me, and I can finally be happy and secure with a partner, who actually means it when they say they love me, even if wedding plans cause me to hyperventilate.

As for the ring spam, sorry folks, that’s not changing. Please accept my insincere apology.

The ring must be on display in every photo lol

But You Won’t

September 30, 2015September 30, 2015 by maryhelenc, posted in Douchers, Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, When Things Suck Hard

I’ve struggled to talk about this with anyone but my best friend Melissa & friend Paul, and Erica, but she knows everything all of the time. It’s been a source of great guilt for me, but I guess I’m sharing it because I wonder if other moms have been in this boat.

Last week, I made a very important decision about facilitating a relationship between my kids & their dad; I’m going to stop trying.

When we moved out here, I tried to make it easier. I called with updates, sent photos, and offered to cover the entire cost of travel for him to visit his kids for Xmas. I also told him if he wanted to move closer (as he is currently unemployed) & take a job here, he wouldn’t have to pay child support & we could split custody, where he could have them most weekends (as they are at the age where they want slumber parties with friends, etc) & I could have them during the week. He said he’d think about it.

Meanwhile, the excuses started coming. Already he couldn’t afford to come for Xmas, as he wasn’t working or if he got a job, he wouldn’t be allowed any time off to see them. As flights are already filling up for holiday travel, I started texting, asking when he wanted to fly out, so I could book it. No reply. Second reminder. No reply. More excuses to the girls as there was just no money for him to come, maybe March Break. Or next summer. But not Xmas. That’s when I realized, no matter how easy I make it, he just doesn’t want to see them. He doesn’t care enough to be a dad.

So, I wondered if by pushing the girls to call, to continue to facilitate a relationship that he’s made it clear doesn’t matter, am I hurting my children? After all, they get hurt when Dad doesn’t bother to call or visit. When we lived in the same city, every visit ended early. When I let him take them for March Break, he brought them home on Wednesday, because he was too busy. When they spent the summer with his mom, he rarely saw them, instead spending time with a girl he was seeing & drinking (according to my eldest). He doesn’t care to make that effort, so why should I? Why am I saving money for him to come here & see the kids when he can’t even tell me what day he wants to come?

I find myself offering him mental health support, which I did again this week, and for what? To be on the receiving end of his rage when I ask him once again to be a parent or tell me when he wants to come see his girls on my dime? Why do I keep trying to help this person? So my kids can have a dad? Shouldn’t that be his job? Shouldn’t he be making his kids his number one priority? Maybe my constant attempts to remind him to be a dad are hindering him from wanting to make his own efforts to be a parent.

So, the flight I was going to pay for, I offered to his mom for March Break. I’m not sending any more photos or updates unless he asks me for them. I’m not going to ask the girls to call unless they choose to. I can’t keep trying to force someone to do what they can’t be bothered to do; which is be a parent. He doesn’t want to be a parent, so I’m not going to try to make him into one. It’s sad because I have friends who just want to coparent and spend as much time with their kids as possible & he won’t even come see them when it’s free for him to do so.

But I’m done trying. It’s up to him to be a parent now. Maybe he’ll step up & be the kind of parent my kids deserve, calling every day & asking about school, life. Maybe he’ll save up to visit & spend all his time with them. Maybe when they fly to visit family next year, he will devote all of his time to his children. But if not, it’ll be on him.

As for me, I’ll feel guilty, because that’s who I am. But I won’t keep trying to be nice & include someone who doesn’t want to be included & I will focus on raising strong women.

Hey Mama

August 12, 2015August 12, 2015 by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Current Events, Douchers, Life, Mommydom, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, When Things Suck Hard

Because I’ve spent many years covering entertainment media, I read a lot of celebrity gossip.

Let me rephrase: I read comments on celebrity gossip.

I prefer the comments because I think it’s funny that people waste their days calling celebs names. I comment, but even my constructive comments get maligned with replies with poor grammar & calling celebs whores. Such fun. I love the Internet. I once talked about how parents wonder where their children learn bullying from. They learn it from you BULLYING STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET.

But the Kelly Rutherford/Daniel Giersch custody case has been interesting, as it covers a world of issues, from parental alienation, international coparenting & what is truly in the best interest of the children (you can read the decision here). As someone who is now attempting to cross country coparent, I was very interested in seeing how this plays out.

The decision references that while both are good parents, Ms. Rutherford’s attempts to marginalize her ex husband’s role as dad prompted the judge to choose to give him primary custody of the couple’s two children, as the minimum time he proposed for mom to see the kids was more than the maximum time he would have seen the kids with her plan. As Ms. Rutherford demands her American children be returned to America (the kids hold dual citizenship with the EU), one of the comments I see most is;

“Children belong with their mother, only their mother. What a horrible dad for taking those kids from their mother.”

Wait. What?

One of my favourite blogs is Daddy Doin’ Work. Doyin Richards is committed to promoting the role of dad & encourages women to also allow dad to embrace their parental role. Kids need two parents that are active & emotionally present. You only need to step up when one parent doesn’t step in. And we need to stop with the antiquated idea that dads don’t matter.

One of my best friends is a single dad with full custody of his son. I won’t violate his privacy with details, but he stepped up in a situation where a lot of men wouldn’t & he rose to the occasion & is raising a fine young gentleman. Another one of my friends from public school is fighting tooth & nail every day to be a hands on and present father for his children. Yes, there are deadbeat dads & yes, they suck. But if you are a mom lucky enough to have a partner or former partner who wants to be an active father, don’t be like Ms. Rutherford. Don’t shut dad out.

Dads are damned if they do & damned if they don’t. Look at Stephen Curry, who brought his daughter Riley to all of his playoff games, & press conferences, etc. Women pissed all over him for not “leaving his brat at home with mom” instead if commending him for wanting to share his big moments with his family. But if he left his wife & owed back child support, we’d string him up for being a deadbeat.

I know some of you are thinking “But MHC, you just moved across the country. Didn’t you shut dad out?” I once let myself think that way, but then I realized the difference. Mr. Giersch wants to parent. My former partner blows off Skype dates, and spent less than 10 days with them during his month with them, often leaving them with their grandmother for days. I would call & ask how Daddy was & if they were having fun with him & they answered “he’s at home”. He doesn’t call often. I can give all the access in the world & even offered to help him if he wanted to move closer to give him more access if need be, but he didn’t exercise his access when they were nearby. However, I will always try to encourage him to be a father, to the point where I practically force him, telling him he can’t send our teen daughter home after a few days because she’s annoying him, or demanding he call. If he wanted to parent, he’s got the opportunity. Maybe this idea that dads don’t matter bugs me because while I would kill for my kids to have a dad that’s invested in his children, other dads are being denied the opportunity to coparent.

The other question I read from the “moms are the only option” supporters are “what would you do if you were Kelly?” If I were Ms. Rutherford, or the NCP, I would do the only option; I would move to where they are. Part of being a parent means making the tough choices. This was not an easy choice, but making more money & having full time hours while being able to supplement my income doing what I love made so much more sense than working two jobs & never seeing my kids to put a roof over our head. Sometimes you’ve gotta look at the big picture & do what’s right, not what’s best for you. If I was the NCP, I would have packed my bags the minute the CP said this was the plan. I would have been in the same city with them, so I could attend parent teacher meetings, doctor’s appointments, and birthday parties.

We could all take a lesson in “what’s best for kids” from another celebrity; Britney Spears. 2007 & 2008 weren’t kind to Ms. Spears. But she got it together. We should all commend her for pulling her life together & conquering her mental illness & personal struggles to be the successful woman she’s become. But when she had it together, her sons Sean & Jayden were happily well adjusted in their father Kevin Federline’s Tarzana home. So, she didn’t try to get custody. She put her sons’ needs over her own. And Federline & Spears coparent well. She’s been spotted playing with Federline’s daughters with new wife Victoria Prince while cheering on her sons at soccer. They throw joint birthday parties. Her sons spend all their school vacation time with their mom, and Sean & Jayden win.

Dads matter. If dad doesn’t want to be there, stop forcing him to try to be there, a lesson I’m learning. Trying to make a man parent only hurts the kids. But shutting out a man who wants to parent (or ridiculing a man for wanting to be a parent) hurts them too. So, even if he wasn’t an active dad, but wants to turn that around, let him try to be a dad. If he’s been a good dad all along, let him be a good dad. But what’s best for the kids isn’t just mom. It could be living with mom, or living with dad, or living with grandma. What’s best for kids is the life that is actually best for the kids.

I Almost Do

June 19, 2014June 19, 2014 by maryhelenc, posted in Life, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, When Things Suck Hard

I don’t mind being single. I don’t mind living alone. In fact, I revel in it.

I’m kind of hermit like, and as I told my friend Steph, it’s because I have very little to contribute. People I know live exciting lives; I do a lot of yoga & sit-ups. That’s my life in a nutshell; work, raise family, yoga, run 5k, sit-ups. I find it rewarding, but I know that it’s really boring. Only the Psych Major, her husband & my friend Sarah love sit-ups as much as I do. But I revel in my boringness (I don’t think that’s a word). I love that I do whatever I want. I’m a starfish in bed, I hog it so well even the Pirate Princess (the champion bed hog) would be proud. When I decided to lighten my hair to it’s current light brown & blonde ombré, I didn’t ask for an opinion; I just did it. I pick the movie, & I really don’t care when I hog the couch blanket. I’ve only been making my own decisions for a year, so it still amuses me. I actually enjoy living alone more than I should. I’ve even given up on ever seeing a dime in child support (thanks to our flawed system in Canadaland) or that I’ll ever have an effective co-parenting relationship with the dad. I’ve accepted that I’m doing this life thing by myself & my girls & I aren’t just surviving; we’re thriving & I’m living as an example for them. I’m getting pretty good @ it too. Between meal planning & a schedule, my house is clean, my kids are eating healthy all of the time & most of the time, I’ve got life under control.

But, I will admit, the latest development in my life makes me wish I didn’t live two hours away from everyone I know & love (one hour from my Sarnia peeps). Because I am actually a moron, I forgot I had two wisdom teeth. I forgot for YEARS, mostly because I had no benefits & couldn’t afford to have them removed. I had the other two pulled years earlier when one got impacted. Well, one of these bastards decided to remind me that they exist by shattering in my gum & getting infected. My face looks really fat & it hurts like a mother effer. But I’ll have surgery & be back to work the next day. Why? Because I can’t afford the time off. Being a sole support parent means sacrifice. But you do what you gotta do.

I won’t lie; I wouldn’t mind a supportive hand to hold to tell me the dentist isn’t scary & an offer to make me soup. I wish I had someone to watch the girls so I didn’t have to condense the teen’s slumber party. I just don’t want to do another sucky thing alone. I get that this is part of independence, but sometimes it’d be nice to have an ally. I know if I still lived in Windsor, I would have friends right there to be a help, but when one moves hours away, you don’t have these things. I guess maybe this broken tooth is helping me realize that while I can do everything on my own; maybe I don’t particularly want to all of the time & that’s okay.

Not wanting to live forever me against the world doesn’t make me weak; it makes me human. I think I’ve held onto to this belief that I need to be completely independent to prove some kind of point, but maybe I don’t need to prove it anymore. Maybe it’s time I let people help when they offer it. Maybe it’s okay to let people offer comfort, be a friend. Maybe it’s okay to want a partner in life someday. Or maybe I’m whacked out on painkillers & rambling. That’s entirely possible & maybe, that’s okay too.