Ohh, now I know why I’ve been avoiding writing this post. I’m crying again. It’s been two weeks since she died, on the kids’ first day of school, and it’s so hard for me to sit and think about her because tears start steaming and my ears start to ache. I can’t do it anymore.

When I calm down I feel a gentle wave across my chest and arms. She’s been a part of my soul, another limb, my wispy shadow for 16 years.

I haven’t wanted to write this post because it took me a week to stop crying, and then I was physically exhausted. When a pet dies, it’s not simply the loss of an animal friend. It’s the loss of a family member, a part of you, of time, an era. She was a living relic in my house who was always there. She was with me when I lived alone in university, when I met Josh, when I moved back to Toronto and into my own humble apartment. She moved with me to my first house with Josh. He and I got engaged, married, had kids. She was there.

She was sweet, beautiful, quiet, playful, aloof. She only had eyes for me, and there was something very special for me about that. Her purr was soft; you had to put your ear to her to hear it. And I once caught her hanging from the window ledge in my university apartment — from her claws. That made me laugh just now….

When she first came to me, her name was “Maggy.” But her meow was so raspy it reminded me of Marge Simpson, so I named her “Marge.” And then I spelled it “Maaarge!” because “Marge” is such a bizarre name for a kitty, so why not.

In the last year of her life, she meowed a lot. I hear it now, echoing in the silence here. She was so hungry; I couldn’t feed her enough. Then she started having the seizures, and I started having to medicate her twice a day. So every night and every morning, I feel that urgency still to give Maaarge her meds. But she’s not here.

We got seven more months with her — since the seizures started — and I’m grateful, but a little more time…….

Then two weeks ago we found her paralyzed from the waist down on our dining room table. And she still wanted to eat. As long as they want to eat they want to live, they say. But by the time we got her to the vet, after I kissed my kids and wished them an awesome first day of school, she was fading away.

We don’t really know what happened. The vet suspects a clot, or maybe the brain tumour that (we suspect) caused the seizures.

This hasn’t been the greatest year for me. I think that’s partly why I haven’t been wanting to blog so much. I’m feeling sad, and private and closed. When I’m not working with my wonderful friends at Today’s Parent Magazine, I just want to get offline and be still, quiet and with my family. I haven’t wanted to go to yoga either because I hate crying there.

A lot of things are changing. Maaarge’s death was a blow.

The day she died, Betty White spent most of the day curled up in a ball on my bed. “See, Betty,” I found myself telling her, “I’ll never let you suffer.”

Thank you, Maaarge, for loving me, for teaching me how limitless my care can be, for teaching me patience and acceptance, for playing with me.

We hated that you lived on our dining room table. But we loved you so much that we let you….

Two days before she died, I dreamed of Simba. His image was very vivid, and he was big before me. I looked at him. We were face to face, and he said, “Hi.”

The other day I was putting the dishes away, and a plastic lid spontaneously fell down on me from one of the kitchen shelves. It felt like it was her. I could imagine her sitting on the shelf, batting the lid with her little paw. It’s something her spirit would do — tease me, play tricks on me. I’ll watch for that. I still can’t imagine her not here….

I love you, my Maaarge. See you in my dreams.

Love…

xo Haley-O

P.S. Many thanks to the amazing vets, technicians, assistants at the Laird-Eglinton Pet Hospital. Maaarged loved it at the vet because you all loved her too. I’ll always be grateful.

Everyone’s been noticing the time. It’s flying. I don’t know if it’s a cosmic thing or because we’re all older now. The ratio of my 37 years to a day is obviously much vaster than the Monkey’s 7 years to a day — so, as some have theorized, a day for me is much shorter than it is for my kids.

But there are other factors too. Because of our iPhones and Twitter, Facebook, endless emails, so much entertainment and information, we’re never bored. Time flies when you’re having fun, right? And there’s never a dull moment with so much activity at our fingertips.

When I look around at the parents at camp pickup, and when I take a look at myself as I usher the kids from camp, to the grocery store, home, dinner, bath, bed, we’re always rushing. “Jack, let’s go! We’re going to be late!” “Hurry up, Ella! You can play with that in the car.” “Why are you so slow, Monkey?”

No wonder time’s going so fast.

I don’t want it to go this fast….

So I’ve been watching my kids lately, taking their lead when it comes to time. I’ve been waiting a little more patiently, breathing and observing as my son picks his favourite rock out of a pile on our way to camp. I’ve been letting him take his sweet time climbing onto his massive car seat (he’s not 40 pounds yet, and I’m in no rush…) and proudly fumbling with the seat belt. And I’m consciously being more patient when my kids don’t respond right away — because they’re simply in a different time zone than I am.

And with this realization that there is another time zone — there is more time — I’m losing some of my urgency. Trying to. There’s no need to lose weight tomorrow, or live the perfect lifestyle (us Virgos crave) right now, because life is a process. It’s not a finished product — not until we die, anyway. And it’s so fast-paced these days that so much simply has to be left unfinished. My work will never be done, the 1,068 emails sitting in my inbox will never be fully answered (even read), the house will never be clean, this post will never be perfectly finished. And I won’t ever feel rested. Not at the impossible pace I try to keep.

As my yoga teacher once told me when I was trying to accomplish a difficult pose, “We’ve got time.” We do.

Everything is endless, a process, ongoing, fluctuation. So I’m letting things be, still trying my best, and learning from my kids to watch, not wait, but stop.

Love…

xo Haley-O

Chin high. Face filthy. Shoulders square and teeny. Oy. He was very proud to be wearing his mama’s favourite t-shirt. For some unidentified reason, I beam whenever he puts it on. And the neon bracelets (aka scary chemical bangles he got in a loot bag and that I hate and hid as soon as he put them down and looked the other way) add the perfect touch, don’t they? He comes in peace — this bizarre, uncannily cute being of mine.

“Mama! Mama! I am 35-point-zero pounds today, Mama!”

Look at him riding my stationary bike (and singing). He’s actually pedaling….

I am crazy about this child. So much that I can’t deal. And, after what we went through last May, I thank God every day for his health and contagious enthusiasm for life. Though I wish he’d drink his lemon water, eat more greens, clean up his Ninjago spinners, spare me that ringing in my ears from extra-high-pitched pleadings to watch Star Wars (again), and sleep in his own bed.

Of course, I am also crazy about his big sister.

I took her to “the crystal store” (as she likes to call it) this evening — a little mom-and-daughter outing. She’s turning seven (SEVEN) on Saturday, so this was a special pre-birthday gift. You see, she loves fairies. And she sparkles in these spiritual shops, which incidentally attract others who also believe in fairies. Her favourite is a charming store called “Odyssey,” which is worth the drive all the way out to Pickering. So that’s where we went.

She bought a necklace with a charm full of “pixie dust,” a miniature blue bird — “for happiness,” the lady behind the counter said — a little blue cluster of crystals, a coin with a saying on it that she liked, and a mini “fresh picked rainbow,” which I’m still not quite sure how she’s going to use.

I love being eccentric and imaginative with her. And if you know me well enough, you know I often have a crystal hanging on my neck.

“Mama, d’you know what? Selena Gomez is Justin Beaver’s girlfriend.” Did you learn that in school, Monkey? “No, Grandma told me.”

I’m also crazy about our magnificent Betty White….

…our little lover, Minden…

…and our beautiful MAAARGE! (who, alas, isn’t doing so well, I learned at the vet just today)….

(If you want to see ALL the things I’m crazy about, by the way, check me out on Instagram — love love love! And if you’re on Instagram, tell me your username in the comments, and I’ll follow you back.)

Also, big news: I finally got a wedding ring that I’ll actually wear. Strangely enough, I loathe conventional jewellery, and my original rings have been tight ever since I had kids. But this ring’s very light, simple and symbolic for me. Josh is thrilled, of course — I guess because he’s crazy about me. And I guess I’m crazy about him too, enough to wear a piece of jewellery…that doesn’t contain crystals.

Love!

xo Haley-O

P.S. I’ve been up to a lot, as usual, at Today’s Parent. Check out my most recent blog posts and galleries (every week I do a fun celebrity gallery) over at Celebrity Candy! And some other fascinating stuff my fellow editors and I have written over at On Our Minds.

I realize I look obese in this photo. But, although I can’t claim to have my 28-year-old body back by any means, it’s not as bad as it looks up there. And I obviously love you and miss you enough — after this latest long pause between blog posts — to appear obese before you, just to share a laugh.

So, our Betty White loves her mom. Can you tell? If I leave her for a minute, she squeals. It’s a bit of a problem, and it really irks the neighbours. So into the kayak she goes….

PEEK-A-BOO! I look like a hunchback in that photo, with bad kayaking form, to make matters worse. See how I love you?

And see how I love the water? I never loved it this much growing up. If someone suggested water sports when I was a kid, I usually ran the other way — screaming. I guess you appreciate the things that make you happy more as you get older. Or, at least you have to for sanity’s sake.

Because I don’t stop during the week. Among the kids, Josh, my job, my gazillion interests….

“Numbers never stop,” the Monkey tells her little brother. “They’re even making numbers right now.”

I don’t stop. The lake makes me stop, and breathe. And the lake literally made me stop a couple of weekends ago when I wakeboarded too hard in roaring winds and she wouldn’t have it. After several face plants into the cement-like waves, I got myself a concussion.

I’m still recovering from this concussion because, against the doc’s orders, I haven’t stopped working on my computer, and I haven’t stopped reading. And here I am talking to you, when I should really be resting and getting back on the yoga mat.

Gazillion.

But who can rest when you have two kids, a busy husband, an exciting job and what really seems lately like a gazillion interests? So here I am with that lingering ache and buzz around my head, and the sensation that my mind, my brain, is all a-fragmented…. I suppose that’s how I’d describe what this concussion feels like. But I keep going until I can’t go anymore — stopped in my tracks by the warm, sparkling, rippling waves.

But it’s only Tuesday. And so earlier this evening, I made veggie burgers for the first time ever, and promised a Twitter friend I’d post the recipe, so checkit:

They’d probably look better if I’d used black beans, but all I had were red kidney beans (no wonder, because I never eat them). Here’s the recipe:

Ingredients: 

1 15-oz can beans/1.5 cups cooked beans (black beans, pinto, red kidney)
1/2 cup salsa
1 oz sliced onion (or more, to taste)
1.5 cups bread crumbs (I use spelt or wholest grain possible)
1 tsp cumin
pepper (to taste)

Instructions:

1. Pour the beans and the salsa into your food processor, and blend until smooth.
2. Add in the onions, cumin, 1 cup of the bread crumbs, pepper, and blend.
3. Pour it into a bowl.
4. Get messy, and use your hands to make 8 nice-sized patties. As you form them, gently press both sides of the burgers in the remaining bread crumbs.
5. Let them set in the refrigerator for 15-30 mins while you prepare other parts of your meal (or clean up or make the kids’ lunches!)
6. Place the burgers on a baking sheet, and bake in preheated oven at around 350ºF for around 20-25 minutes (I’m not really sure about the timing — I just waited ’til they browned a little bit), flipping once.

Stick ‘em in a nice, lightly-toasted, whole-grain bagel, sprinkle some Daiya vegan cheese on top, some Vegenaise, ketchup, Dijon, lettuce, tomato, the works, and enjoy!

Tell me, Gorgeouses: Do you have a gazillion interests too? What are some of your interests — beyond parenting and your job…?

Love!
xo Haley-O

It’s a good sign that I’m writing today. It means I’m using a little less energy for anxiety, and a little more energy for productive stuff like writing (more than I already do…). Sigh, even though I just received a bill for the ambulance. It’s okay. I’d happily pay anything they asked.

Actually I feel pretty close to back-to-normal after the events of last month. Still a little more tired than I’d like to be, still breaking down during yoga (gosh, I wish that would stop). But I’m working on all that by cleaning up my diet (what else is new), and just taking it easy on myself.

Of course, I still watch some of my favourite trash TV shows, which helps. But when I’m not hanging out with the kids, I’m keeping busy working a lot, reading on my beloved KOBO — nothing lascivious yet, ahem, much to my female friends’ chagrin (you know who you are) — building crazy-intricate Samurai monsters for the Rascal….

…and making a lot of almond milk….

…which is so strangely therapeutic! Isn’t it beautiful? The Rascal loves it….

“Mama, it tastes like icin’,” he says (icing!). And from the looks of this masterpiece the Monkey brought home the other day, she likes it too….

I still think the “k” her teacher erased makes more sense…. I’m pretty sure my daughter thinks I’m more a KOOK than a COOK. But I’ll take it!

Anyway, yes, the Rascal’s doing great. A nutritionist I bumped into on the street today suggested I give him water with a squeeze of lemon every morning to detox away the lingering circles under his eyes. So I’ll give that a shot. He’s finally getting less clingy, and he’s finally sounding more like himself. Baby talk is never cute. EVER. Just saying.

But getting a carrot from our lovely Today’s Parent food editor, Eshun Mott, is definitely cute — and good for the detox….

Oh, I love that photo. He and the Monkey (whom you can see snooping around in the background) were on location at a Today’s Parent Magazine photo shoot. They’ve been doing a lot of that lately, which is totally fun!

They’ll love seeing themselves in the magazine. “I’m famous now, right, Mama?” Yes, you are totally famous, Monkey, especially after all that hand modeling you did with the adorable Daniel DeSouza yesterday (above). I’ll keep you posted on the stunning photo the kids took for a spread in the August issue — yes, front-of-the-face, and all!

Oh, gosh, how’d that photo get there? Heh. Betty White and her feline siblings, Minden and Maarge!, are doing great too.

Everything is good. The Rascal is healthy. We have a working laundry machine and dryer again. The spider in my car has finally vacated the premises (all that swinging in front of my face was distracting). I’m riding the stationary bike again. The Monkey’s looking forward to her 7th birthday party and another trip to the crystal store. Josh lost 15 pounds. And school is almost out.

Love!

xo Haley-O

Tears streamed down my face as I looked out the window of PICU at SickKids Hospital, May 11, 2012.

Walkers from all over the city formed a circle around the hospital — a giant hug for all of the kids, families and staff inside the walls. It was Meaghan’s Walk.

I looked back at my 4-year-old son, sedated and intubated on the bed behind me. IVs poking into arms still soft with baby fat, a glowing red toe attached to blinking monitors, mechanical waves of his breath. “Do you feel that big hug, Baby?”

The day before, 3:07 p.m., I got a calm call from the school office. I was on my way to pick up the kids. Ten minutes until the bell rings, I thought. Couldn’t they wait? No. Five minutes later, a frantic call from one of the parents: “Hurry, Haley! They’ve called the ambulance.” WHAT?!

I fought through garbage trucks and idle walkers to get to the school, screaming and gasping in the car. I couldn’t get there fast enough.

But I arrived in time to see the ambulance and fire trucks for my son. Children were gathered along the schoolyard fence (it was home time!), excited to see the emergency vehicles. Mothers were slouched with worry for my son.

I ran through worried-looking teachers and oblivious young students to the office, where my son lay. Not seeing me. Not knowing I was there. I moaned and my knees gave out. The emergency crew carried him out and I followed — the school principal holding me steady as I moaned, wailed, struggled to breathe and looked beside myself at my son.

“Does he have diabetes?” No. “Allergies?” No. “Anything like this before?” No. Is he going to be okay? No answer.

We climbed into the ambulance. My mother, there now, reaching for my car keys. Dark. I sat in the ambulance and watched and didn’t know and asked and moaned.

They kicked me out into the front seat because there were too many of us in the back with him. Five of them working on my son.

The siren came on and the people on the street looked through the large front windshield of the ambulance and saw the mother of the child wailing and gripping her armrest.

Ninety minutes later in the SickKids Hospital Emergency Ward, they got him to where they wanted him, intubated him and immediately sent him for tests.

“You’re going to hear a lot of scary things,” the (wonderful) social worker told me as she handed me some ice water and we watched the crowd of doctors hover and scurry about the bed. “Don’t listen to any of the words, okay, Mom?”

Is it going to be okay?

YES. YES YES YES YES!

It was going to be okay. The first round of tests came back. And he was ALL CLEAR.

And so we waited for him to wake up and grasp at the tubes. And he did it, and it took FOUR of us, including Josh, to hold him down. Horrible to witness. But an excellent sign.

I held his little foot (poor thing, he inherited my feet…) as he slept. And I listened sleeplessly to the sound of the machine pumping air into his little lungs.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, siiiiiiiiiix,1, 2, 3, 4, 5, siiiiiiiiiiix,1, 2, 3, 4, 5, siiiiiiiiiix.

Late the next day, the doctors argued passionately about how to extubate my forceful, unbelievably brave little guy, and he was breathing on his own and calling for me soon enough. So thirsty. When we got another “all clear,” we were released to a room he wouldn’t leave for the next five days as he fought relatively minor symptoms of what, after countless never-wracking tests, appears to have been a virus at the bottom of all of this.

And he was ALL CLEAR.

“Mama,” he said after several hours of fasting for one of his countless tests, “I’ne so hungry, and there’s nothin’ I can do about it….” And he cracked a smile.

Miracle Flower. Josh got me this flower for Mother’s Day (that Sunday). It drooped when I placed it by the window, and stood straight up when we weren’t looking after I placed it in front of the hospital bed.

I can’t share every detail of this nightmare because it is just so dark and so personal, and you would be reading for days…. And while sometimes I really need to share this (like right now), there are other times that I just can’t share it at all, and I feel guilty and anxious sharing such a profoundly personal experience.

But he is ALL CLEAR. Though still a little tired, he’s running around at school like nothing happened. He’s fighting with his sister (who’s dealing with her own feelings around this still), and playing soccer with his friends.

…Except that he’s hugging me a little tighter, and I’m hugging him and his sister a lot tighter.

I have to thank our FAMILY for being there every minute of this journey. My parents even managed to text me a photo of themselves when I was having a particularly hard time late one night and they couldn’t be there…. And they all showered us with toys and snacks and love while he recovered all those days in isolation.

I want to thank the wonderful team at Today’s Parent Magazine for the support they gave me that goes way beyond the parametres of co-working — and for the support (and space) they continue to give me as I heal from this trauma. The wise Ms. Scarbiedoll, my manager, got the brunt of my dark, frantic blatherings, and I’ll never forget how she was there for me.

And thank you to my amazing friends, both online and off, who offered to send us food, baked us cookies, called off the hook, DM’d, tweeted, Facebooked and emailed.

And thank you to my beautiful yoga sisters, who brought me delicious vegan food, received my desperate emails, called to check in on me, and emailed and dedicated practices to us.

And, oh my gosh, the TEACHERS and PRINCIPAL of our school, who moved school buses and called and emailed off the hook, and listened and worried, and just adore him….

And, the teachers at our morning school who baked us bread, called, texted, offered childcare and hot lunches for his sister, and listened and worried, and just adore him….

And fellow parents at the school, who kept my fingertips busy texting back and forth, and made veggie meals for me and had their kids craft the cutest get-well cards ever….

And thank you to our pediatrician and his assistant for following this every step of the way and for answering my teary calls and questions.

And, oh wow. Thank you to incredible the staff at SickKids Hospital: Ashley, Emily, Eva, Jenny, Sandy, Dr. F, Dr. Z., Dr. C., that wonderful social worker in Emergency, and all those doctors and nurses whose names I never caught. They gave us the speediest possible results to all the tests we went through, kept us calm, gave us hugs, and listened with such compassion and patience. They saved us.

And thank you to all the walkers at Meaghan’s Walk for that giant hug that touched so many children and families that day.

We are so beyond grateful that for our little guy everything was all clear. Please consider helping the families that are still there by supporting the amazing place, SickKids Hospital, that is there with open arms if you ever need it.

Love,

xo Haley-O

I can’t believe I’m blogging this evening. It feels like I was just here. But I counted the days (on my fingers), and it’s almost been two weeks. Remember when I used to blog here every day? Time just goes so fast now. And as I mentioned in my last post, I’m determined to slow it down. And I’m determined to write here tonight even though I’m simultaneously battling my cat Minden as he attempts avidly, feverishly to kiss me or, well, seriously, to stick his slimy tongue down my throat. BATTLING HERE. Sorry for that visual, but HELP ME seriously…!

So this is me at eTalk TV again….

It’s not the best picture of me. I’m super grin-y. Mostly because I was happy it was over. We were talking about some intense stuff — like celebrities and extended breastfeeding, co-sleeping and placenta eating. Not easy topics to talk about on behalf of a national brand. But I did love doing it, and I think I did OK! It’s airing next week. So keep an eye on my Twitter feed AND Facebook page (which I implore you to LIKE to stay updated on my celeb news and lots of other fun stuff), for the exact date.

Can someone please get this cat off of me? Or at least just don’t get upset if I can’t get a coherent sentence going here, OK? And, by the way, he does this at 3 a.m. every night too. Just when the Rascal starts sleeping through the night (still barely, at 4.5 years old), my cat starts waking me up? Am I never meant to sleep through the night again? I’m tired over here. I saw bags under my eyes in my car window reflection this morning. BAGS. Big ones.

And, alas, even the eye mask, with which I’ve been obsessed lately (melatonin, FTW!) isn’t helping….

Anyway, last night we took the kids to see Canada’s Got Talent — yet another perk of working at Today’s Parent. And we had a great time. Do you watch the show? Are you, like everyone else who watches, voting for Rally the Dog? We were. Check out our fancy signs….

Raahhhhh! Go Rally! Hee. So ‘dorable.

So, this wasn’t so bad, Gorgeouses. Didn’t take that long. Hmm…, maybe I could drop by here more often and update you some more on the goings on around these parts? Or is time going by so fast for you too, that you didn’t even notice it’s been two weeks already since we last chatted?

In the meantime, I did go to yoga last week. Just once. But it was a start. And I meant to go this morning, but time flew right out from under me as I was working last night, and I decided getting that extra hour and a half of sleep was more important than making it to yoga. But an hour and a half later, I wasn’t so sure.

See you soon….

Love!

xo Haley-O

Some more stuff I’ve been working on and am really proud of: Carson Kressley’s hot fashion tips for moms, Natural makeup and skincare products we love (ALL MY BEAUTY SECRETS!), 6 delicious vegan recipes, and a big spread in June’s issue of Today’s Parent Magazine (on stands mid May!). I’ve also updated my CV again, if you want to have a look at all of my recent publications. THANKS!