Dear Crush:

Everyday when I wake up, I check my Facebook notifications to see if I have a message from you. I know it's only been a couple of months since we've first met but our 'relationship' has become a bit of an addiction. I think it first started with the chocolates. I mean, I thoroughly enjoyed all of the random brightly-coloured candy you kept dropping off but chocolate is definitely the way to this girl's heart. But now, my heart is breaking.

You see, we've had so much fun over the last little while and I will never regret all those 146 times we've spent together. But I feel like we are now stuck in an explosive relationship. I try to give you what you want over and over again but you just blow up in my face. And I'm not sure I can handle it anymore. I feel like a constant failure and it's just not fair. 

I know many of my friends are doing it, so many of whom are married and have kids just like me. And I see them spending time with you as well, when we all know we should be spending time with the kids or tending to some chore or other. I have even seen a number of my friends who have managed to get past the explosive stage of their relationship with you and have invested much time and dedication into making it work. I'm just not sure I'm that type of person. I really don't think I will ever get past level 147 and a part of me is truly saddened by it. 

Perhaps one day things will just click and we can bring back some of that momentum we once enjoyed. Until then, I feel it's best if we part ways and take a little break.

Today is the day that I turn 35 years old. If you round up, that's almost the same as saying I'm 40. It's a sobering thought knowing that I'm not, nor will I ever be, as young as I once was.  But that's okay. I can live with the pair of strands of grey hair that I see in the mirror every morning. And I'm okay with the fact that I don't have the most up-to-date or trendiest wardrobe. I will even admit I kind of miss my neon green New Kids on the Block t-shirt.

What I have difficulty with is the fading memories. I want to be able to remember all the little things right alongside the milestones of years past. I want to remember the good, the bad and even the ugly. Including my atrocious perm below, bangs and all.

At the end of the day, I may not be the prettiest, most fashionable or physically fit 35-year-old on the planet, but I can surely take pride in my accomplishments over the years, the friends I have made, and the life I have established for my children. I am an imperfect mother and wife, a horrible cook, an aspiring teacher. I make no apologies for who I am today or for any of my faults. The person that I am took 35 years to make and I wouldn't change a thing.

As a gift to myself to acknowledge all of my hard work, sacrifices and successes, I treated myself to my very first DSLR camera, a Canon Rebel T3i, so that I can preserve today's memories and maybe even get mom in the picture more. You're only 35 once.

Another year has come and gone. And while I'll take a cup o' kindness yet and cheers to love and friendship, a part of me feels very sad and nostalgic when I think of auld lang syne. I've been reminiscing upon my childhood, way back when I was young and carefree. When my family and friends seemed so youthful and relatively healthy. I think back to the days when I would sleep in on Saturday mornings and spend a midsummer Sunday at the lake with my family. My dad would be standing near the barbecue prepping the charcoal for our noontime feast, my mother busily setting the picnic table before throwing together a fresh salad. And the rest of us, my brother, my sister and I, we would be gleefully splashing about on the lake's shore, none the wiser that life would never get any easier than that. And then, someone hollers, "Mommy! Mommy!" and my thoughts return to present day, 2013.

I lift my head slightly from my pillow to be greeted by my children who are over the moon at the sight of snow falling to the ground. 

"Can we go tobogganing today, mommy? Can we? Please?!"

Heavens to Betsy, it's almost back-to-school? I know there are still a few weeks remaining of summer vacation. And I've had a wonderful break so far. But there's a part of me that doesn't want to go back to work in September. It's not that I don't love my job. I do. I think it has more to do with giving up my comfy Lululemon yoga wear and trading it in for plain old boring business attire. 

Okay, so maybe it's not so boring as much as limited. I don't have a lot of items in my closet that are suitable for work so what I do have ends up being recycled over and over and over again. By the time June arrives, I am utterly sick of my work clothes. Usually, before September comes rolling in, I have found a couple of new pieces that bring some excitement and new life to my wardrobe. I did buy a couple of simple tops and a skirt to take with me to BlogHer in New York but I'm not overly thrilled about them. I just can't seem to shake this icky feeling towards the inanimate objects hanging in my closet.