Halfway through a great hike with my hubby a Blue Mountain last month.

Disclaimer: I was compensated for this post through my relationship with the YMCA Simcoe Muskoka. However, as always, the thoughts and opinions are my own.

I have never, in my entire life, been a natural athlete. I was the kid who begged my parents to let me stay home with my books when my brothers wanted to go tobogganing or skating. However, as I entered my early 20s, I developed a love of fitness. I got a gym membership, and I started working out regularly with the equipment and with fitness classes.

At age 23, I used to wake up at 5:30 each day, drive nearly an hour for a workout at the Barrie YMCA and then head to work. Sometimes I would even join an evening class before heading home to Penetang.

Then I had kids…

After Lilly, I got back into the swing of fitness fairly easily. I was back at the gym, through the YMCA in Midland, when she was five weeks old and went typically 2-3 times per week for a few years.

Then we had Cole…

Between two young children, a busy career, a 50-minute commute and university, time to workout just hasn’t felt possible. Sure, I’ve run on a treadmill in the basement a few times, but it more often gets used for laundry.

I’m now at a point in my life where I have to shelve the excuses and get back to making fitness a priority in my lifestyle.

A few months ago I had a health scare. While it turned out to be mostly a false alarm, it served as a wake-up call. Also, having lost my mother from a heart attack last year at only 59 years old increases the chances that I could suffer from heart diseases and disorders. I want to ensure that I live a strong, healthy, and long life for my family and I understand fitness needs play a key part in that.

To kick-start this change, I headed over to the Barrie YMCA to have a chat with their Membership Supervisor, Tracey, over Facebook Live:

This decision is not mine alone. Adam and I have come to realize that raising active and healthy children requires us to lead by example. We need to become an active, healthy family. We want this initiative to be something we develop an experience as a family. I think that will be the easy part, seeing as though our children already have a membership to the YMCA… But we don’t. Mom and dad need to play a little bit of catch-up so that our children see we are just as active as they are.

I have mentioned the YMCA throughout this post a few times. It might seem like I’m a little bit biased, and sure I am writing a sponsored post for them. However, I have had memberships to and participated in various gyms over my adult life, and I always come back to the Y. Living in a small community, we don’t have many of the other chain fitness centres located in bigger cities, but the Y is such a constant even in small towns like the one I grew up in and the one I live in now. Whether it’s their childcare programs (which we also use), summer camps, or fitness centres, they are deeply engrained in many communities across Canada.

This family focussed flexibility is something that I value, and that works well for our children and us.

I love the fact that a family membership not only saves us money but allows all of us to have memberships and participate in various programs. For instance, I can drop Lilly off at Y Kids on a Saturday morning and then head upstairs to the gym for a workout. On Sunday afternoon, we can all ahead in together for Family Swim. My hope is that our children find inspiration to lead healthy lifestyles by seeing Adam, and I prioritize fitness and participate in fitness-based activities with them. It’s also incredibly helpful to know I can spend time at the gym with Adam and the kids on the weekend in Midland and yet still use the Barrie centre if I want to workout during my lunch hour at work.

Join the YMCA Now

To help other families and individuals take advantage of all the YMCA has to offer, the organization has currently waived all join fees in September and October. This adds a savings of over $84 when signing up for your membership.

Learn more about the YMCA Simcoe Muskoka! 

Ideally speaking, I hope to be writing a bit about my journey back into fitness and to share with you the many ways in which our family is getting active in the future. What does your family do to stay active? Share below!

The post Refreshing my Love for Fitness with the Barrie YMCA appeared first on Ideally speaking....

Most often, I look at him and still see the 18-year-old boy who won my heart in grade 12.

I can remember the first kiss, which technically took place before we were actually dating.

I can remember our first official date. He can’t, because it was his 19th birthday and he was hammered.

I can remember the day he proposed when his hands were shaking and he dropped the ring down the side of the car console. He stopped his proposal speech mid-sentence to utter some four letter words and fish the ring back out from under the front seat of his old Sunfire.

Most of all, I remember the look on his face as I walked down the aisle towards him.

That smile, though.

The last 10 years have brought so much into our lives. We have two beautiful children and a house that feels like a home. We both work hard, but put our family first. We take time for one another. Even if it just with something little. We are playful, loving, and so very open-hearted. I know we always will be.

Our beautiful little family.

Adam and I are solid. Even in harder times, I have always felt confident in us as a couple. However, the reality is that many people in our generation don’t see 10 years of marriage. That statistic breaks my heart. So I wanted to celebrate and reaffirm us by renewing our vows.

We didn’t have nor did we need some big party. It was the two of us, our children and our best man, with his family, as our officiant.

It was perfect. 

Renewing our vows in our best man’s backyard.

Adam was a little nervous when I told him I wanted us to actually write our own vows this time. I bugged him almost every night for the week leading up to see if he was done. To my surprise, he said yes… the night before. I thought for sure he would be winging it!

He picked on me for mine being much longer than his… but that’s what he gets for marrying a highly sappy writer.

I wanted to share our vows here, as a way of commemorating them and reaffirming to the world our commitment to one another.

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Adam’s Vows:

Crystal, as we stand here today, I think back to all the wonderful memories we have shared.

You have given me two of the most beautiful children. You have no idea how thankful I am for them being in my life each and every day.

You have been more than I could have imagined to come into my life.

You are strong, dedicated, caring and compassionate. I admire these traits and I love you dearly for them.

These 10 years have been a roller coaster of events and I can’t imagine anyone better to have at my side.

Crystal. I love you so much. Please let me share the rest of my life with you.

My Vows:

When we were first married, I used to watch the clock and get excited when it was almost time for you to be home from work. I remember thinking, I hope this feeling lasts a few years at least. We’re now at 10 years in and I still get excited when it’s close to your time to be home. Albeit, part of that might be because I’m happy to be able to tag you into the parenting ring, but a big part of it is that I still just can’t wait to see you. I’m still excited to see that boy I crushed on for ages. The one who stole a first kiss behind the town library and swore he would stay with me until the last petal fell from a ceramic flower.

We’ve been together nearly 15 years and have now been married for a decade. In that time, I have watched you grow into an incredible man, who works hard for his family and loves the heck out of his children. You were the best choice I ever made and you make me proud every day. As we stand here today, I want to make a few new promises for the years ahead.

I promise to continue to be proud of all of your accomplishments, big or small and of the kind of man you are.

I promise to be your equal partner as we continue to grow our lives, raise our children and plan for our future.

I promise to support you through tough days at work and to listen whenever you need to talk.

I promise to continue to give you and only you my heart, my soul and my body. Well, actually, you now share my heart with the kids.

And finally, I promise to always be excited for you to come home to us.

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We used the ceremony to exchange anniversary rings. Adam proposed 12 years ago with an $80 ring from the flea market. I told him to. We had bigger things to purchase at the time, like a home So he promised to buy me a real diamond for our 10th anniversary. Mine is a beautiful 1.25 carat raw diamond. His is a family ring that reads ‘Adam Crys Lilly Cole. You make our family whole.’ I’ve never been huge on jewellery, but I’m in love with this little raw stone.

Our anniversary rings, with Colton holding our hands together <3

Ideally speaking, this is just one decade in the many we will spend together. Here’s to us, babe. I love you so incredily much.

The post One Decade Down – Our Vow Renewal. appeared first on Ideally speaking....

Dear Coffee,

Look, we need to talk. No, seriously, please put away the delicious smell of my favourite Starbucks Caramel k-cup. It’s time for us to to be honest with one another.

I’m going to get straight to the point. It’s time for us to be done.

I know, I know. This is shocking for you. And me. And literally every single person who knows me and my severe addiction to your smooth, warm, inviting energy kick. But it’s true.

Please, don’t be upset. It’s not you, it’s… Well, actually, it is you. But let me explain.

I’ve recently had a few concerns, which have left me questioning many aspects of my current lifestyle. Something is up with either my brain or my heart, and I may or may not have recently had a stroke. As if that’s not enough, since losing Mom last summer, I’ve been battling depression again and haven’t been sleeping properly as a result. Also between work, university and life in general, I have had more than my fair share of stress these days. Heavy stuff, right? You can understand why I need to take a long hard look at the young lady in the mirror.

The thing is, between you and whiskey, I drink too much chemical altering liquids. And let’s be honest here if it’s a choice between the two of you, we all know I’m not giving up whiskey.

I mean, look how great this collection is getting! Not to mention my pretty new DIY dry bar…

Yes, this is an old TV. Gutted and painted. I love it.

But I digress. I feel I have become far too reliant on you, and I’m not quite sure how we got here. I used to be a tea drinker and a snobby one at that. To be honest, and this might hurt to hear, but I’ve never actually like the taste of coffee. There. I said it.

So how did I become so utterly dependent on you? It all started about a dozen years ago, in college, when you and I were simply mere acquaintances. I handful of looming deadlines and all-nighters, and you and I got to know each other real quick. What started out as the odd couple here and there, evolved into 3 to 4 cups per day over the last several years.

I convinced myself I needed you. After all, I was busy career woman working tirelessly to launch a new company. I thought I was exhausted in those years. Then I had kids. It turns out I had no fucking idea what exhausted was. I somehow became one of those people who desperately had to make my morning coffee before I even hit the bathroom. By the time I got the kids out the door and finished my morning commute to the office, I believed I needed another. Then, as I found myself sleepy-eyed in the early afternoon, I would make one or two more.

There were days when I’m sure I had consumed more than 40 ounces of your warm, sleep altering drug. That just can’t be ok.

Dammit, Coffee. I said put down the caramel k-cup! You’re not playing fair.

Listen, I know you’re thinking. You think I can’t do this. You think I’ll come crawling back to you. But here’s the thing. As of today, I have gone one month without you. That’s right; it has been four full weeks since I’ve had a cup of coffee.

I got a tell ya, coffee, I feel pretty damn good. I am sleeping better than I have in years. I feel much more alert during the day. In fact, I have so much energy I almost feel superhuman. It’s a bit ironic given that I only embraced this relationship with you to give me an energy boost. Now I find myself far more energetic since our abrupt breakup.

I have gone back to my snobby, loose leaf tea drinking ways. My cupboard is now filled with deliciously fragrant varieties. I even found a Caramel Rooibos. So you can give up the caramel k cup already, you’re never going to break me.

If it makes you feel any better, some of the tea I drink does contain your heart and soul, caffeine. See, I haven’t left you completely. I have just moved onto your incredibly less caffeinated cousin.

That probably doesn’t make you feel any better.

But it not about making you feel better. Ideally, it’s about making me feel better. And I do. Impressively so.

The post My breakup letter to coffee. appeared first on Ideally speaking....

.

About two and a half years ago, I had some scary symptoms while 30 weeks pregnant with my son. Various doctors tossed around the word stroke and had discussed the idea of taking him early. They put me on blood thinners, and the symptoms seemed to subside. Cole was born at 38 weeks, perfectly healthy. I thought that was the end of it. I was wrong.

About a month ago, I started noticing some sporadic blurriness in my eyes. I chalked it up to light sensitivity. However, a little over two weeks ago, I had an episode of blurred vision, disorientation, and numbness in my left arm. This incident was the worst it had been yet since the symptoms have reappeared and was eerily familiar to what I had gone through during my pregnancy with Cole. I wound up spending that entire Tuesday at emerge, with the team there running blood tests and CT scans.

In the weeks that have followed I have been back for various tests, more blood work, and to meet with a couple of different specialists. I’m still waiting for an MRI to be booked, which supposedly will tell us more than the CT scans did.

While we still have no definitive answers, I do know from two separate doctors, one of which is a stroke specialist, that I have a pronator drift with my left arm. Do you know what a pronator drift is? I didn’t either two weeks ago. I kind of wish I was still blissfully ignorant. Don’t Google it. You’ll spend all night doing the test on yourself and building your paranoia. Trust me.

A pronator drift is almost always a sign of at least a minor stroke, or can be due to a neurological disorder. Honestly, those are pretty shitty choices.

Now, I’m not a doctor, and stroke specialist did say that I still may just be suffering from a variant of migraines. Until the MRI is complete and follow-ups have been done I’m playing the wait-and-see game. Complete with a mild blood thinner, to control my symptoms and as a precaution to prevent a stroke.

I’m 32 years old.

I truly didn’t think I would be dealing with this kind of shit. Not yet. Sure, in looking at our family history, it’s a bit of a crapshoot as far as genetics are concerned. Both sides are riddled with some mixture of heart issues, cancers, diabetes, etc.

Me and Mama, June 2015

The nurse at the stroke clinic laid it all out for me. Having a first-degree family member suffer from heart issues or heart disease can increase my chances of developing heart disease. Those chances are further increased if the relative is a male under the age of 55 or female under the age of 65. That’s when I informed her that my mother suffered a minor stroke at 52 and died of a heart attack, just last summer, at 59.

So those are my odds.

I don’t love them, but I can do something about them. I need to stop taking my life for granted and take better care of myself. Now. If not for me, than for my children. It might be a depressing thought to have in my early 30s, but I desperately want to live past 70 and tear up the dance floor with my grandkids at their weddings.

It has been nearly a year since Mom passed and I can’t help thinking about everything she has already missed. She has a beautiful new granddaughter and a fourth grandson due in less than a month. She has missed my younger brother achieving a goal in his life. She will never hear my daughter read her a book. She will never get to play cars with my son.

Selfishly, I am heartbroken that she is not here for what I am going through now. I have shed more tears in the last week, purely out of fear mixed with the anguish that I cannot call her. Every kid, no matter how old, wants their mom when they are sick. I am terrified and I want to call my Mom so she can calm me down. But I can’t, so she can’t.

I don’t want to follow in her footsteps.

Not when it comes to this. It’s time to be completely honest with myself. I need to stop talking about living a healthier lifestyle and actually do it.

I need to be more conscience of what I put into my body. To eat take-out less and fresh food much more. To cut out coffee and drink less whiskey (*tear*). To drink more water and become smarter about my food choices and how they impact my body.

I need to put exercise back into my schedule. At one point I was really into fitness, but I let it go with the busyness of life. I need to find the time to walk, jog, swim and do yoga, on a much more consistent and frequent basis. I need to feel strong again.

I need to reduce the level of stress in my life. I’m a working mom of two, with an incredibly busy career, a university degree in progress, a bit of freelance work on the side, a novel in the works and a passion for community involvement. I’m exhausted just typing that list. I need to realize that I don’t have to work every night at 9:30 pm. Some nights it’s ok to say no and leave the office for the office. It’s also ok to say no to extra projects or slow down my schooling to a pace that fits my life. Guaranteed, this will be my greatest hurdle, but ultimately one that will have a huge impact.

I need to do more of the things that make me happy. I need to find more time to write for me; to work on my novel, write long-winded editorial pieces and spill my guts with poetry. I need to read more books again, catch more movies with my girlfriends, and spend more time with my family. I need to focus little less on making a living, and a little more on living. Period.

I need to sleep more. God, I need to sleep more. I can’t stress this one enough. I’ve always been a nighthawk, and so was my mother. I need to work on breaking more than 20 years worth of a bad habit because this is one of the few traits of hers I don’t want to embody anymore. I need to crawl into bed before 11 PM, put down the damn phone, and close my eyes.

I understand that this isn’t going to be easy, and none of it will happen overnight. It will take a great deal of commitment and self-initiative. However, I need to focus on being the healthiest and happiest I can. For me and for my family. My kids motivate me more than anything, to live as long as possible and have a great life. I simply need to harness that motivation.

Here’s to me and my future heart. Ideally speaking, I will be looking back on this post 50 years from now and patting myself on the back. With my cane, of course.

The post Because I want to dance with my grandkids on their wedding day. appeared first on Ideally speaking....

Love her so much.

On Friday, July 31st, I got a call that I was not expecting to get for many, many years. I heard my my little brother’s voice as scared as I have ever heard him as he said, “we might have lost mom.” The paramedics and my amazing nurse sister-in-law, Karen, were working on her. A few minutes later, Karen called me back and asked if I was sitting down. My heart hit the floor. I started screaming and whaling. I was on the floor, crying so hard I nearly threw up in my husband’s hands. I can still remember every second of that earth shattering evening.

It still doesn’t make sense. It still doesn’t seem fair. She was just here for a visit, playing with the kids and acting like her typical self. It still doesn’t feel real. I sit here writing this trying to wrap my head around the fact that I can’t call her. I will never again hear her voice or feel her arms around me.

Somehow I have found the strength to not only get through this past week, but to manage and organize things as needed. I have described it to many people as a strange automatic get ‘er done mode that my brain switched into. However, now as I sit here this evening, with everything done and nothing but time to think, it is setting in. So here I am keeping busy again. Writing a blog post in her memory (I’m sure the first of many) to share my Mama through my eyes, with you.

Last Wednesday we scattered her ashes into the ocean off her favourite beach in PEI, where she lived. I now wear a little piece of her in a sealed locket around my neck, close to my heart. We also held a Celebration of Life gathering just yesterday in my home town of Mount Forest, ON. We filled a room with family, friends and even extended relatives from far away. It was beautiful. I put together a tribute video and a speech and wanted to share both of them on here now.

This is my tribute speech to my Mama, completely unedited and exactly as I read it yesterday. Below this is the tribute video.

Thank you all for letting me share her with you.

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I can’t begin to explain the shock of last Friday night. Everything happened so suddenly and it just doesn’t seem fair or real. I’ve learned over the past week that you are never ever prepared to say goodbye to a parent. It leaves an unbelievably painful hole in your heart.

Everyone keeps asking me how I’m doing, how the boys are doing, as people do in these situations. Bob and I were talking about it and agreed that we’re ok, when we keep busy. It’s those quiet moments that get us. A few minutes alone in the shower or sitting in our rooms. It starts to sink in and we start to remember mom. But as much as it hurts, we need to embrace it. We need to cherish her and remember her.

So that’s what I want to do today, but amongst the comfort of all our family and friends. I’m going to try to keep this light and funny, but I’m sure I’ll become a hot mess throughout many parts. So bare with me.

My beautiful Mama.

I think one of my first memories is sitting in my room, maybe 3 years old and mom telling me the names of the girls on my new wall hanging. It was the Little Women. She had such a passion in her voice telling me the story. To this day, that is my favourite book and my porcelain Jo doll that mom gave me sits on the desk in my study.

Mom passed so many things on to us, one of which was her love of reading. She always had so many books and made sure we did as well. It didn’t matter what kind of books we read, just that we read. With trips back and forth to our dad’s place in Burlington and camping each summer, we always had lots of opportunities to get lost in books. Now, I also think I inherited the bad habit of having 2 or 3 books on the go at the same time. In cleaning mom’s bedroom this past week, I can see she still had that habit.

Originally I hadn’t planned to write this. I was just going to get up here and put you all through the mess of me winging it. But I’m a writer. Another thing I got from mom. She wrote so much. In journals, on scraps of paper or even inside address books – which she had about 10 of and hardly used them for addresses. She would write out her memories, her opinions. She wrote poems and short stories. We’ve only begun to uncover it all in her belongings and I know Mark, Bob and I can’t wait to read more of her words.

Wearing my Mama’s dress to her Celebration of Life gathering.

Mom gave me her love of fashion. And maybe just a little bit of her shopping habit. She loved different fabrics, textures and patterns. She could remember nearly her entire wardrobe in her head. Not an easy task, seeing as though she had enough to clothe a small town. Often we would be out shopping and she would find something and say “oh I have those two tops that have this colour in the design!” She held onto her clothes. We’ve all chuckled at her expense over that and I am not really on to judge on that. But I’m so glad she did. The dress I am wearing today was hers. She had it in the late 70s early 80s and actually can be seen wearing it in photos when she was pregnant with Mark.

Mom kept her things. More than just clothes. She took great care of her belongings and cherished them. She taught us kids that it doesn’t mean anything to have the most expensive items. It’s about finding things that make you happy, taking care of them and being incredibly proud at the ability to purchase things you need or want. We were fairly poor growing up and didn’t have the same stuff as some other families or our friends had. But what we did have, we loved and valued. Today, mom has 3 grown kids who understand the need to work for the things that you want and that its ok to treat ourselves with things that will make us happy.

Music made mom happier than almost anything else. At the service in PEI at Mom & Jim’s church, the minister led in playing Let it Be. That was mom’s favourite song. She loved music and encouraged a love of music in us kids. We may not have had much growing up, but we always had something to enjoy music. Even if it was just a busted down old 8 track player from a garage sale. Both of my parents shared great music with us. I can remember a night in Kennilworth, right before Mom moved to PEI. I had loaded her iTunes with tons of music and we got completely drunk singing Beatles tunes at the top of our lungs.

Best Friends. Always.

Mom taught us the meaning of true friendships. She encouraged our friends to always hang around and loved to have a full house. And she stayed close to our friends. She was everyone’s best Facebook creeper. Mom was an expert at friendship. Anyone who doubts that needs to only look around this room. In going through her photos, we could see the lasting friendships that she has had. Some for more than 50 years. Mom taught us to value friendships by leading by example. And of course, by being our friend. In her words, she was a mother first and a friend second.

She was my best friend. Truly, honestly, my best friend. When I had something big happen, good or bad, she was the first call I would make. I couldn’t wait to share things with her. From a young age I knew I could talk her about anything. She always planned little things just for her and I. I can remember many nights when she would sneak me downstairs after everyone else has gone to bed. Sorry boys. And we would make popcorn, cuddle on the couch and watch a chick flick. We started in-house spa days when I was around 7. We would sit in our bathroom for hours, talking about school, boys, anything, while doing out hair and nails. Our last spa day was less than a month ago. I was taking a bath at my house and in true mom fashion, she marched right in and sat down on the counter. We talked for over an hour while we painted each other’s nails and went through all the beauty products in my bathroom that she was likely thinking about stealing. I can’t believe that memory was just a few weeks ago and now she’s gone.

Mom with the kids and I when Cole was born.

She leaves behind so much. Such a legacy. Probably the most important trait that mom passed onto us was how to be great parents. Not perfect parents, but ones who would love the hell out of our children, just as she did with us. She taught us to be loving, kind, open, supportive and so very playful. Her playful nature is one of the things I will miss the most. I would watch mom with Lilly over the years. She would pull the same stunts she did on us as kids. She would pinch Lilly’s behind and then say “what, it wasn’t me!” It was like getting a Birdseye view into my childhood. Even during her last visit just a few weeks ago, she was running around with the kids, playing hide and seek with Cole and getting right down on the ground to wrestle with him. She was an amazing mom, but also an incredible nana.

I feel like I have mourned two people this week. I have cried over the loss of my Mama, but I am also heartbroken for my children and my niece and nephews. They lost there Nana. While Lilly and Mavado will likely keep some memories, Atreyu, Cole and Robin will not really remember her. I broke down the other day thinking about how Cole will never get to experience Nana they way Lilly did and how they are all now missing her from their lives. Mark, Bob and I miss their Nana for them and I will tell them about her. She will live on through us and we will be strong enough to share her with them.

Out of everything that mom gave us, what we have relied on most this past week is her strength. She was such a strong women, even in moments when she was incredibly fragile. Many of you know that our little family has been through a lot. We faced a lot of darkness in our past, but mom was strong enough to see the brighter side and helped us to as well. In looking back at everything we faced as a family, mom always had the ability to push through her pain and still be the goofy, happy and sometimes annoyingly playful mother that she was. She was so strong for us. Mark said something to me earlier this week. He said “you ain’t a rock sweetie” and he’s right. I’m certainly the basket case this week out of us kids. But I was mom’s rock and she was mine. There is a line from a song that her and I used to listen to; “you got me, I got you, together we always pull through.” Mom may be gone, but we’ve still got her. We always will. And with the love and support of family and friends, we will pull through.

We love you mom.

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“What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” ~ Zig Ziglar

Scene:

A young 22 year old women walks into a trendy looking software company and hands her resume to the President, who is only in her early 30s herself. Looking around the office, the 22 year old quickly picks up the fast-paced, yet fun environment of the company and instantly knows she wants to work here.

She nervously follows the President into the boardroom for her interview. The job is Marketing Coordinator and is exactly what the young women wants to do. She knows she lacks experience and knowledge of the industry, but she has to at least try. A few minutes in she realizes how down-to-earth the President is and relaxes a little bit.

President – Do you know what PPC is?

22 year old – Yes, because I Googled it before coming here. (she says with a smirk)

The 22 year old goes on to explain that unfortunately the post-secondary education is still behind in terms of teaching digital marketing and advertising, but that she is a fast learn and can adapt. The interview goes great and she is soon asked back to meet with the President again as well as the VP of Marketing and to bring her portfolio. That interview also goes well. She is called back once more for a final discussion with the President. She is honest and lets the 22 year old know that it has come down to her and one other candidate.

President – She has a lot more experience than you do, but you would be cheaper. (she says with a laugh)

22 year old – I get it. That’s business.

A week or so later the President gives her call to let her know that they have chosen the other candidate. However, she would like the 22 year old to keep an eye on their careers page over the next few months.

President – We’ll be posting jobs in several departments over the next little while and I would really like to have you as part of the team and get you in here.

A few months later, the 22 year old sees an entry position on the sales team and sends the President an email. She hears back quickly and basically gets a “great, you start Monday” type of response.

She goes onto work at the company for nearly 10 months before the weight of acquisition sets in and the US based parent company makes some changes. However, understanding that this is just business, she leaves on very good terms and stays friends with everyone.

The now 23 year old picks up a job the next day at a new start up direct selling company, as their Marketing Manager. She spends the next 5 years working her butt off to grow a new company, but sadly the company doesn’t make it. The day the news breaks, she calls her old boss, now the CEO of a new software company.

CEO – Hey, how’s it going?

28 year old – Well, my company is going insolvent.

CEO – That sucks!

28 year old – Yep. So…what do you have going on down there?

CEO – Come on in tomorrow and we’ll chat.

Less than a month later the 28 year old started at the new software company, working with a large chunk of the original team. It felt half like deja vu and half like she had never left. She was working as one of the members of the services team, doing digital marketing for end clients.

Fast forward over 2 and a half years and the Senior Marketing Manager position for the company has opened up. One specific Friday afternoon, the COO of the company sits her down and lets her know the position is hers. She spends the next 20 minutes a bit in shock before heading out for the weekend. She gets into her car and literally shouts “whooo hooo” at the top of her lungs.

It took nearly a decade, but she finally landed her dream job.

End scene.

My awesome boss lady and I. My mentor & someone I look up to so much. A bit embarrassing knowing she might read this, but it’s nothing I haven’t drunkenly said to her face ;)

I have learned many, many lessons in my short 31 years on this planet. One of the biggest is that you never burn a bridge and you never give up on going for what you want in life.

The last 4 months have been crazy. I have pulled longer hours, been on two business trips, and answered emails at 1 am. I have an incredibly messy house and a severely neglected blog But I have loved every minute. I am the Senior Marketing Manager for gShift, a fast growing SEO software company in the digital marketing space. There is so much potential in this position if I prove I want it and I am up for it. I do and I am. I feel challenged and excited every day and can’t wait to see how this chapter of my life plays out.

Ideally speaking, I am well on my way to reaching a position in my beloved marketing industry that begins with a letter or two

The post Getting the dream job, nearly 10 years later. appeared first on Ideally speaking....

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I am a writer.

I have known that simple fact the majority of my life. I have been writing for as long as I can remember. I had my first story published in my school year book when I was in first grade. It was short story, 8 sentences or so, about seeing ants with a fellow student.

It may not sound like much, but hey, I was 6 years old. I still remember the day my teacher told me she was going to be submitting for printing in the school yearbook. This was a big deal. Great one students did not get their work published in the school yearbook. My teacher had been impressed with my six-year-old ability to form sentence structure, create a plotline, and develop characters, all on my own.

By the age of 16, I had decided that I would not likely pursue writing professionally. I also decided that I would not likely pursue acting or singing, which I also loved. Don’t get me wrong, I did apply for journalism and english at several different college and college/university programs around the province. I got accepted to almost all of them. However I turned them down.

The bottom line is that I wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. I was terrified that I if I pursued anything to do with the arts, I would be left as a struggling, job-less writer/actor/singer who would wind up back in my small town, working at Tim Hortons, serving the morning coffee to my piece-of-shit ex-stepfather every morning.

So instead I pursued the business side of writing. I applied for advertising at several schools and got accepted. As I predicted, I was able to obtain a job in the field of advertising and marketing right out of college. I have since built a decent ten-year career in traditional and digital marketing. While I love what I do, and I want to continue doing it, I also feel that I need to get back to the core of my writer soul.

I started this blog nearly 4 years ago as a way to do just that. It is a place for me to share what I want to share. No rules to adhere to. No corporate image to uphold. Just my voice, in my space.

I have always used this blog to write for me, first and foremost. However, I do enjoy working on sponsored content, giveaways, product reviews, etc. It’s in my blood as a seasoned marketer.  I also use this space to share funny moments and photos with my family. My balance of content has always been on the latter, since this is primarily a place for me to capture memories and share my experiences in parenting.

A good old Moleskine.

What I haven’t used this space for much, is the core writing pieces that challenge me. The more lengthy, essay style posts that are full of opinions and stellar wordsmithing. I have done a few and I am very proud of them, but I want to do more.

To use an analogy, I feel like I writer who does warm-ups and sprints regularly, but has completed only a few marathons.

And so here I stand, declaring my 2015 goal (which I refuse to call a resolution) to write more challenging posts. I am going to start with a goal of 1 per month and hope to reach 1 per week by the end of the year. I think this is achievable. I used to be a very fast writer. Just as a runner can increase their time with each race, I will complete more marathon style posts until they once again feel like second nature.

To sum it up hashtag style, I am going to #ReclaimMyWritersSoul.

I might write long-winded opinion posts on something controversial or current in the news. I might write passionate posts about various causes I am involved in. I will certainly write lengthy and heartfelt pieces to or about my children, which I can share with them when they are older. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a lot to say. All of the time.

I have never been accused of being too quiet. Ideally speaking, this blog will start reflecting that. 

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Staging photo gone awry.

Dear kids,

When I was a little girl, like many little girls, I dreamed of what it would be like to grow up and have a family of my own. I thought about the type of mother I would be. Patient and kind. Loving and playful. I would always try to use a calm voice and my children and I would have the most wonderful relationship all of the time.

And then reality hit.

Parenting is hard work. It’s exhausting and trying. And while it is incredibly rewarding with beautiful moments, I also make a ton of mistakes. So I’m sorry kids. It turns out you don’t have a perfect mother. Every good and honest parenting blogger has shared their shortfalls in an effort to highlight the truth and humour in raising kids. This is simply mine.

Oh how I have screwed up thee. Let me count the ways…

One – The yelling.

I’m sorry that I yell so much more than I ever thought I would as a parent. I always try to keep my cool, but everyone has a breaking point. Lilly, you and I can have doozies of battles. When the dust settles, you promise to listen better and I promise to yell less. Some days we keep our promises. Other days we don’t. But I know we’ll always keep trying. Cole, I don’t yell at you because, you know, you’re a baby. But don’t worry son, your time will come.

Two – Working mom heartbreak.

I’m sorry that I choose to be a working mother. I have 20 grand, and growing, of school costs and a point to prove. Even if just to myself. One day, when you’re old enough to know me as a person and not just your mother, you will understand where my determination comes from and why I have a stronger need to succeed in life. Success comes in many forms and at many levels. For me, part of it is being a mother, but part of it is also having a career. The truth is I really love what I do. I hope one day you were both lucky enough to find something you’re passionate about it and use it for your livelihood.

Three – Bedtime. Or lack thereof.

Lilly, I’m sorry that sometimes I let you stay up way later than you should. And then you’re super tired in the morning. All because I really secretly want to watch one more My Little Pony episode. On the flip side, I am also sorry that some nights I just can’t help but count down the minutes until you guys go to bed. It is not for one moment that I don’t want to spend time with you. It’s just that sometimes I want to spend time with myself more.

Four – The horrible, terrible balloon incident.

Lilly, one time when you were making me so angry, I stepped on a balloon and popped it in front of you. And you cried. And I felt like a monster for it. I told you it was an accident and you bought that. It wasn’t. I’m sorry for that. Probably my lowest parenting moment yet. (In my defense, it was a cheap dollar store balloon, that I nearly tripped on, that was dying slow and painful death. It’s not like it was her giant foil Rainbow Dash balloon. That sucker’s still taped to her bedroom wall.)

Five – All the candy lies.

Lilly, I’m sorry for all the things that I’ve claimed were medicine. Probably 95% of them were actually candy. I just didn’t want you to have them. I promise that one day, when you’re older, we will have a girls night where we watch movies and pig out on candy till we puke. But not yet. Because your four. And that would be irresponsible.

Six – Classic rock lullabys.

Cole, I’m sorry that sometimes I sing songs that are inappropriate for a baby when I’m putting you to bed. Because you’re still young enough that I can get away with it. And after 10 rounds of Baby Mine I’m bored out of my mind. A little Pat Benatar isn’t going to corrupt you too much. *fingers crossed*

Seven – It’s my colicky baby & I’ll whine if I want to.

I’m sorry Cole, that I whined, to anyone that would listen, about how you were a colicky baby and took up all my free time while on maternity leave. You were and you did. But as a result you spend more time in my arms than I could’ve imagined. And I wouldn’t of changed a second of that. But I did whine a lot. Like I even wrote a whole blog post about it.

Eight – Passing the buck poop diaper.

Cole, I’m sorry that I slough off most of your poop diapers to your father. I know mothers are supposed to love every inch of their baby and everything to do with their baby. But since we’re being honest here, I don’t love your poop diapers. Your father grew up on a farm and has a much stronger stomach than me. Especially when it’s a cloth diaper. Gross.

Nine – Parenting by Netflix.

Kids, some days I use TV to parent you much more than I would like. There is only so much pretending to be Anna to your Elsa I can take before it becomes easier to just put on the damn movie and get some laundry done. Or sit and drink a coffee. In another room. Quite and alone. Lilly, it’s kind of alarming awesome that you know how to navigate Netflix on 3 different devices by yourself.

Ten – Bribery of all the things.

I am so sorry for the bribery. I always said it was something I wouldn’t do as a parent. But truthfully, it is the main weapon in my arsenal. Lilly, I have used bribery to get you to do just about everything from putting on your boots to finishing a meal to leaving me alone while I write/craft/clean. I’m not proud of the low levels I have gone to in order to get you to cooperate in a way that you think benefits you. Like using the disgusting yellow Starbusts that I don’t want. Or convincing you that vitamins are a treat that you should earn…when really we would give them to you anyways if you ever called our bluff.

Dear kids, I’m sorry you don’t have a perfect mother.

But I am not sorry that I love the hell out of you.

I’m not sorry, for even one second, that I decided to become a mother in the first place. At the risk of sounding cheesy, it’s the most rewarding part of my life. Hands-down.

There is nothing better than the smiles on each of your faces when you first see me in the morning.

Or the way that you each fit perfectly in the space between my head and my shoulder when we snuggle.

I secretly love that although you each adore your Daddy, you both prefer me to do your bedtime routine and I am the one you want when there are tears flowing.

I will never be the perfect mother. And lord knows I will make more mistakes in the years to come. A lot of them. But I also know that I will do a lot right. Because I am a great mother. I trust my instincts, love with all my heart and I’m not afraid to be silly and play. You are both the biggest parts of my world and always will be.

Ideally speaking, you will survive my parenting mishaps and grow up to be perfectly imperfect parents yourselves.

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