Oops, the troubles of being a mom…to a dog.

When I first decided to take ownership of Simba, my friends and family told me it would be great experience for my pending motherhood.
This weekend was especially true of this.  On Saturday I went to one of my favourite friends wedding and it was beautiful.  I loved watching her smile and tear up as she married her best friend.  I didn’t stay long at the reception because my date (a friend) had to work and I had left Simba at home in the care of my friends Matt and Dawn who were working on the basement.  Simba was spoiled rotten, he went on two massive walks and I was excited to come home to an exhausted puppy!  

As I come inside my back door (I’m still living in the basement despite living alone), there is a small landing, covered with boots, a swiffer, Simbas leash and poop bags.  There wasn’t a lot of space to get in and of course Simba was going ape shit crazy cause I was home (so sweet right?!) 

Unfortunately that’s when it happened, like a child, he got under my feet and I was wearing three-inch heels.  My heel came right down on his poor little back paw and the whimpering I heard was gut wrenching.  He seemed okay though, I checked and there was no blood and he didn’t growl or bark in pain when I touched it.  I didn’t think much of it as I crawled into bed exhausted only to realize Simba wasn’t beside me snuggled in my nook.  

I looked down and there was this sad little face.  I patted the bed for him to jump up and he couldn’t.  My poor dog couldn’t use his back foot to push-off of because I, being the mean mommy I am stepped on his little paw.  I lifted him up, snuggled him and cuddled him and I thought we were good for the night…until about 20 minutes later – he jumped down.  

8 hours later Simba had jumped down about 8 times.  He played in his little corner with the blankets, he napped on the floor and he went into the hallway to pee on the pee pad.  Of course every time he jumped down, he whined to be brought back up.  By 6 am, I was going insane.  I was so tired.  I had to get up to walk him and get ready for my ultrasound anyway so on a beautiful, sunny Sunday I was up at 6:00 am, having not slept and about to be probed by the cold, sterile ultrasound weapon!  Oh and a full bladder of course, because I needed to be more uncomfortable than I already was. 

As I was driving to my appointment I realized – this is what my nights are going to be like when I have a baby.  Up every hour or two to feed or comfort a crying baby.  I just hope the baby and Simba can get on the same schedule 😉 

Last night I sharpened up, no way was I going to work this morning exhausted.  I have a lounge chair that is holding clothes, garbage, mail, cleaning supplies etc.  Basically it’s a mess.  I threw all that mess on the floor and moved my lounge chair right beside my bed.  Guess what??  My dog can climb up on that and then hop into bed!  


 A creative way to ensure my dog can get up and down when he wants to and I don’t have to be woken every hour. 

Now I am well aware this will NOT work with a baby, but I am getting my brain running and thinking…that’s what matters right??  No, okay maybe not…but I liked it and I got some sleep! 




Home Sweet Home

About 5-6 years I met a guy named John.  I am guessing if John knew the trouble I would give him in this current year, he would have run for the hills.  Am I trying to get him to be my boyfriend, no – he is in a long-term relationship with Erin one of my best friends.  Am I trying to get him to donate a kidney, no – my kidneys are okay for now.  Am I trying to get him to rob a bank for me – no, I have money I am okay there too. 

John is a real estate agent and he is going to drag me through the process of buying my first home kicking and screaming this year.  

I have lived in the same home my entire 32 years.  Yes I lived in Peterborough for University and for a year and a bit with my ex, but my home, with my dad has always been my home.  I always had a room there and I have always come home.  Once my dad passed, once he was suddenly gone, the home on Sedgemount no longer felt like my home.  I have lived there this past two months, feeling like a visitor in a building that is not mine.  It hurts.  This house that has lovingly seen my ups and downs, my highs and my lows isn’t mine anymore – without my dad, I feel homeless.  

It’s very important for me to find a place of my own, a house that I can make a home.  A new place that will watch me and my child and Simba grow together as a unit, a team. 

I am looking to move to Pickering, Ontario.  Scarborough, my current hometown, is just west of Pickering, a new neighbourhood, a new location, it’s what I need.  See that, I am looking at what I need!  

I have been inundating John with emails, phone calls and telepathy to ensure I get what I want.  My list keeps changing.  Now that I have Simba, I must have a fenced-in backyard and I do not want any carpeting ANYWHERE in the house.  I want it move in ready. 

The Scarborough house has been under constant construction for two years and the idea of continuing to live in construction makes me want to pull my hair out and since I am planning on being pregnant by the time I move, it must be move in ready.  I am okay with having to paint – in fact I most likely will paint, (have someone else paint) the entire house. 

I want a modern house, I am not a country girl or an old-fashioned girl, I like clean lines, neutral colours offset by bold designs. I need spacious rooms and there must be closets for days!  When I moved into my dad’s basement he had one of the rooms turned into a closet for me and I have filled up that closet and made my aunt Sharron proud!  

I have lots of ideas on what I want, what I need in a future home.  What did you look for when you went to buy your first home – was it based on a “gut” feeling, were you logical or did you throw your practicality to the wind?? 

Don’t even get me started on mortgages and banks…that’s a whole other rant. 






I won’t be “doing it all”

There are some things that are going to become increasingly difficult when I am a single mom.  Things that once I go back to work and have to balance my professional life with my personal one are going to have to change.

My whole life, the one chore I always hated, yet always had been responsible for was doing the grocery shopping.  I hate this chore – I hate trying to figure out if fruit and veggies are ripe.  I don’t like being disappointed when the item on sale is out of stock, or when the chicken breasts I wanted look pitiful.  There are so many things I don’t like about grocery shopping: when the cart stops working halfway through your shop, when parents bring their whole families and the kids are screaming or running around, when the stock boys have monopolized an aisle and you can’t get your cart around them and when the lineups are so long yet you see two check out girls gossiping and giggling at customer service.

After my dad passed I had to figure out the impossible – how to shop for just one person!  It’s a daunting task.  I enjoy shopping even less now.  Knowing half a loaf of bread will go to waste, yet buying it anyway cause peanut butter and honey sandwiches have become a source of comfort, is frustrating. 

The other day, as I was lying in bed petting Simba after his neutering surgery, I realized I was running out of groceries, at least groceries that weren’t stale, moldy or way past expiration.  I went upstairs and cleaned out the fridge.  I was left with condiments, milk, wet dog food and a cucumber.  I looked down at Simba and realized, I didn’t have to leave him to go fill up my fridge, I could order groceries and have them delivered!

Was I being lazy? Yes! Was I using my dog as an excuse to be lazy?  Yes! However, I had wanted to order from Grocerygateway.com for a long time, since before my dads passing.  So I went online and checked it out.

There is a $10 delivery fee, I debated the fee versus my time, gas and energy on doing it myself and realized it was 100% worth it for this week!

I filled out my virtual shopping cart and checked out with a delivery time for yesterday between 5:30-7:30 pm!  They deliver at night!!  This was getting better and better.

Last night when I came home from work, I anxiously was doubting myself.  Would the fruit be fresh?  Would I be waiting forever for this delivery? 

At 5:40 I got a phone call.  They were five minutes away!!  He brought in my groceries, I signed and he left.  My raspberries were sweet and delicious, the grapes green and fresh.  My bread had a 6 day expiry which is okay with me!  Overall, I am extremely satisfied!

Will I continue to have my groceries delivered?  No, not every week, they don’t deliver my brand of dog food, so I have to go to Metro for some things, but when I am pregnant, or carrying around an infant, or sick or tired or busy being an amazing mom to an amazing kid you’re damned right I will use them again! 

Why do I need to feel like because I am “choosing” to be a single mom, I need to do it all and be great at it all??  I don’t.  Not any more.  I am becoming realistic.  Being a single mom will be the best and hardest thing I have ever done and I am going to start demanding less from myself and more from others.  I like this idea.  I have been way to hard on myself lately.  My little Koko bean deserves a happy, healthy mom and that’s what I am going to give them!




I’ve already had a spazz moment…

On Friday, Simba was neutered.  The humane society didn’t put a cone on him so I had to buy the cone and (try) to put it on.  Let me tell you, this dog, as drowsy as he was, was not having any of it.  I tried for 20 minutes to put the cone on him so he would stop sniffing and licking his stitches and he freaked out, jumped around and growled at me.  Getting the cone on was an impossible task. 

It was during this time that I realized the next day would be the 21st – two months since my father, my best friend, my hero, passed away.  I don’t know if it was because of that or because my period is due any day now, but I broke down.  I sat on the floor in my hallway crying like a baby.  Simba licked at my tears but still wouldn’t let me put the cone on.  I yelled at him, I said nothing to him and I stared at him with the most pathetic look and he looked back at me as if to say “I’m sorry you are crying, but that cone isn’t touching me”.

I did the only thing I knew to do.  I called Erin.  Erin is the one who gave me Simba and takes care of him for me when I need her to.  She is amazing and someone whom I depend on quite a bit.  She came over.  As soon as I saw her I started crying again.  Am I really such a horrible mother that I need my friend to drive 20 minutes to come help me cone my dog??  If that’s true what will happen when I have an actual baby and they don’t want to eat or get dressed or go to school???  I started to spazz and cried all over her beautiful sweater.

By the time she got me and Simba inside she pulled Simba into the bedroom sat him down and within 2 seconds the cone was on and attached.


I cried some more.

Erin hugged me and told me to relax, that it was fine.  She had no problem coming over.  I know she didn’t, but still…it wasn’t right.  This dog is in huge trouble.  I have called him an asshole ever since while lovingly petting him because I get it – he had his little balls chopped off and that’s dramatic – but really Erin was the one who took him, he should hate her not me!!!

I am trying not to worry about me as a single mom, being alone, trying to figure it all out.  Women and men do it every day, alone, with no help.  I’ll figure it out.  My main worry is my child and my dog will gang up on me and outwit me on a daily basis.  I need to become smarter and sneakier if I am going to survive!




My dreams are already crazy

All I want, all I have wanted since my dad passed away in July is for me to dream of him.  I need to see this man again.  I need to hug him and hold him in my arms and tell him I love him.  I need to tell him how much he is missed, how my oldest niece is not coping with his passing, how all this baby business is going.  But no, it hasn’t happened for me yet.  Instead I have stupid dreams, dreams that are scary or make no sense or make me roll my eyes when I wake up. 

Last night was no exception.  I was so excited to have finally chose a donor for my little Koko bean that I had a dream my clinic called to say that the donor sperm had been further tested and had an 18th chromosome and therefore was deemed not usable.  What the fuck is an 18th chromosome??  I don’t even know what this means or how it would ever affect me having a child.  Clearly my brain is messed up, it’s creating unrealistic scenarios.  I cried and cried in my dream because there was no other option for me and I was not able to completed the insemination.  

I woke up at 12:30 am to Simba, my three-year-old Cocker Spaniel mix, licking my elbow, my pillow wet with tears.  Now clearly I know that this dream is my subconscious fear that I won’t be able to conceive, that something will happen that will derail my dreams.  I get it.  I get that my dream is not reality.  I also get that I need to start showering in the mornings because clearly my dog is licking me throughout the night and I am not aware of it.   

I am nervous.  I am not nervous about being pregnant or having a baby, I am nervous about not being pregnant, of not having a baby.  

When I spoke with the Social Worker at the clinic I was advised that acupuncture can help relieve some pre-pregnancy stress.  I am going to look further into it.  I want to do everything I can to relax, to chill out and calm down before the insemination takes place! 

Have any of you had acupuncture before?  Tell me about it, give me advice!  PLEASE! 




3232 – I am thirty two

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a donor?  There are so many options, so many restrictions, so many things to take into consideration. 

After searching, and reading and re-reading the profiles, the donor essays and the staff impressions of several men, I narrowed it down to three.  I was super excited.  I called the clinic and guess what – my first two choices had 6 month-long waiting lists!  Are you fucking kidding me???  I was furious.  How could the clinic put these donors in the catalogue if they weren’t available??  They are totally getting women’s hopes up and this is already an emotional time.  I hung up discouraged, but determined to find my baby’s biological father (AKA the donor). 

I shook off my disappointment and looked again.  I knew two things for certain.  I needed a CMV negative donor and a man with an open ID.  After taking a second look I saw donor 3232 which I had originally crossed off the list because he has a cleft chin.  (yes please judge me and roll your eyes because I am)

Seriously Nicole – a cleft chin is the reason this person gets a big fat X next to his name.  Unbelievable.  I decided to re-read his profile.  He had everything else I was looking for and most importantly he is a PROVEN fertile donor with no major health issues in his family.  I decided to look up this cleft chin thing.  I google imaged this and found pictures of Blake Lively, Selena Gomez, Matt Damon and Ben Affleck.  These are super attractive people with visible clefts in their chin.  Of course there is also people who have horrible, ugly chins, but I mean really if the guy is practically perfect am I really letting a little bum chin throw me off?  Make me wait 6 months to have this baby that I have been desiring for over a year already?  No…no I will not.  This man had everything and more that my earlier number 1 choice had except the cleft chin and I suddenly felt ashamed and humiliated that I was being so narrow-minded and picky.  I mean, really when I looked at his picture he was handsome, someone whom if this was a dating site and not a fertility site, that I wouldn’t pass up so why pass him up as a donor?? 

Well, I didn’t.  I faxed over my forms to the clinic this morning and 6 vials of donor 3232 will be sent to my doctor within the week!  I feel amazing with my choice.  As soon as I made it, I felt right.  That this was the decision that was supposed to be made all along.  I am going to write a letter to my future child, a private letter for just them (sorry) explaining all my reasons for picking 3232 along with a print out of his donor application, essay and staff impressions.  This will be given to my child when he/she starts asking me questions – real questions about their father.

I am so close to this whole process and while it has been exhausting and sometimes uncomfortable, I don’t regret any of it.  I love this little child already and I am not even pregnant.