The auditorium is full. We have all been called here for a special event, an hour assembly featuring a guest speaker.

A woman walked onto the stage with a man. The two were here to tell us about sex, or I should say – to tell us why we shouldn’t have sex. After the man showed us a photo of an aborted fetus the woman took another tact. She wanted to talk about what sex does to your heart.

“Let me tell you about a girl named Sally,” she said. “This here in my hands,” she holds up a giant red heart cut out of construction paper, “this is Sally’s heart. And one day Sally decides to have sex with Dave  and then a piece of her heart is ripped and broken.”

She rips off a piece of the heart.

She keeps going through Sally’s sexual history until there is nothing left except for a tiny scrap of paper in her hands.

“And after all of them, this is all Sally had left. Because every time you have sex with someone, they take a piece of your heart and you will never have it back.”

We all filed out of the auditorium to our respective classrooms where we were then expected to then concentrate on our teacher and our classwork.

The woman’s illustration has never left me. And every time another relationship of mine ended I thought of her, up on the stage, laughing at me – pointing and saying, “I told you so.”

And for years I thought she was right. But now I’ve realized that she was only partially right.

Yes, my heart has been broken apart into a million pieces. Shattered entirely in fact. And not just once, but several times in my life. Most recently, last Christmas. It’s been coming back in waves, memories hitting me. The shock afterwards, the days when I couldn’t even stand without shaking. Everything was perfectly fine and then it wasn’t. He was there and then he wasn’t.

But afterwards my heart started healing.

That’s the part the woman on the stage didn’t tell us that day. That we each have the power within to heal ourselves and our hearts. And eventually, even the scars begin to fade away.

It’s hard to carry. It is. The baggage of past relationships come with you into the new. But fortunately, I can talk about it all with him. Every detail, every hurt. He does the same and by talking about it we are honest with each other and what we are bringing with us. In that way, we can help each other to heal.

And right now, my heart is beaming.

Related posts:

1. Joining the club.
2. The End.

Trust must come before love and love can’t survive without trust.

I felt absolutely certain I could love him again. I tried to forget. I felt that I could conquer the past. But I couldn’t. And something was missing. The trust? The original love we had? I wasn’t sure, but being so unsure, standing on such shaky ground was enough. I was even having nightmares about him breaking up with me again, telling me “this just wasn’t working.” I would wake up in a terrible mood and try to explain, but he couldn’t calm my fears. His words weren’t enough.

This time the end was my decision and it came after weeks and weeks of silent thoughts in my head. I tried to share them with him, but realized that I had to either a) accept the past and completely move on in order to love him as he loved us or b) end the relationship because I owed that much to all three of us.

In the end the voices and the dreams won and John and I’s relationship lost.

Benjamin is spending this week at his father’s, next week in Montana with me, and then another week at his father’s. I haven’t told him yet, but this entire time John has been re-introduced as a “friend” only. I’m confident all three of us will survive and be just fine.

It won’t be easy being a 100% single mom again, but managing a relationship on top of everything else seemed more challenging at times than operating solo. So, for now, I’m retiring my hat on relationships for a while and just focusing on the relationship that matters most – my relationship with Benjamin. And I’m incredibly happy about that. We’re right were we need to be. There’s no sense in fixing something that isn’t broken.

I’m sorry I have been so silent lately, but now you know why. Please don’t lose faith in relationships or recovering broken relationships. There is hope, I just wasn’t strong enough to overcome the past and at the end of the day John and I’s foundation was not strong enough.

Related posts:

1. A Man Moratorium
2. A very good question.
3. Work

I have a confession.

When I am single. (And sometimes when I’m in a relationship). I check the Craigslist Personals.

I’m not sure why. I have never, ever found a listing that even remotely appeals to me. And yet, I go back. I think it’s because the Craigslist Personals terrify me and totally crack me up simultaneously. I can’t say the same for any other form of entertainment.

This weekend, I hopped on and found this ad:

Come fly with me – seeking beautiful travel companion – 63 (Far away places).

Nice looking, energetic, DWM, planning many trips over next few years while it lasts. Dubai, Brazil, Thailand, Panama, Fiji, Tahiti, South Africa among the known destinations. Where do you want to go?

I sent it to my Mom. Just because… why not? And largely because I wanted to read her response, which was simply:

Sounds like a line of bs – Mom.

My mother won’t let anyone take her photograph. You have to be sneaky with the camera if you want to capture a glimpse of her.

This weekend, Benjamin was particularly testy when I picked him up at her house. After spending a week away from home he was exhausted and discombobulated. With Benjamin whining and crying in the back seat, I slipped behind the wheel bracing myself for the ride home when my mother came bursting out of her front door. Wrapped in a blanket and with a scarf over her head for added effect she ran up along side the moving car and shouted, “I’ll race you to the top!”

The top being the top of her never ending drive way.

Nothing like a running grandma to snap a kid out of a funk.

Especially when she is headed right for you.

I know wherever my Dad is, he must be missing her like crazy.

She talks about him all of the time. Still, twelve years later. I can’t imagine her pain or pretend to imagine. But, in spite of that pain, I tell her she is lucky. Lucky because even though her love was mercifully ripped away–she did have it. I am 31 years old and I haven’t even come close to what they had. But I want. I do. I am a hopeless romantic. As evidenced by me falling time and time again for men.

I witnessed Mom and Dad’s love first hand. All five of my siblings and I had front row seats to their crazy attraction to each other and their impenetrable partnership. It could be one of the reasons why I fall so hopelessly into relationships. I have seen what’s possible and I want it… quickly. But as my Mom always reminds me, “You weren’t there during the first seven years. What you saw took years and years of work.”

That’s the part I can’t seem to understand. How do you tell when it’s too much work? John always said, “it should be this much work.” But, I disagreed with him. I felt what we had been through, what we had survived together was a testament to our relationship. I’d like to know your thoughts on relationships and work, knowing that so many of you have had the strength to call the game when you know enough was enough.

Related posts:

1. And I thought dating was hard…
2. All Boy or All Dad?
3. Do you still believe in “The One”?

My mother kidnapped Benjamin on Monday. There’s no telling when she will bring him back.

When it started snowing at her house, which is on the most beautiful piece of land in Athens County, Benjamin said, “That’s it. I think I have to stay here forever.”

It is always sporadic and unplanned, his mini-vacations to Grandma’s.

Depends on her schedule, which varies from week to week. She’s a free spirit and always reminding me that the unplanned can be quite nice. Had I planned for a week sans Benjamin there would have been much anticipation and expectations. This way, it’s just–a nice, unexpected break from the daily grind.

So, what’s a single mom to do with her free time?

Go out and find men? Get manicures? Massages?

Nope, not going to happen and afraid to say, no.

I am discovering that my old methods of coping and my old ideas of having fun are now null and void. Being a business owner has changed everything. So, no going to bars to find men. I instead am still on my man moratorium and will only date one again if he is introduced via a friend or a professional contact. No bars, no dating sites – no looking. And as for the manicures and massages, back to being a business owner, I can’t spring for them. And also saving for the down payment on our house, which I am now buying from John.

Fun. (With just a hint of sarcasm there).

The most fun, truly? Just being with myself. It’s what I need right now. Peace and quiet, with a few select friends in the mix. Those who are still standing.

Speaking of my business. Here is our new logo:

Exciting, right? I think so and also completely terrifying. If you are an adrenaline junkie, open your own business during a recession.

Uh-huh.

Did I tell you all that I am certifiably insane? If not, you’ve been warned.

Completely unrelated but it’s been on my mind. Who has seen the manifesto? And do any of you have one now?

Related posts:

1. Toddler-free (for one week?)
2. Try SingleParentLoveLife.com for Free.
3. Single Mom Free Time

I have found myself – in the past two months -  back to 100% single motherhood.

In addition to the absence of John Bear, Benjamin is no longer spending one weekend a month at his father’s. I can’t get into details but can say that the decision (mine) was definitely as a last resort and only after four years of giving my ex-husband every grace possible. He is invited to come up and see him here, but no more overnights there.

Needless to say, the adjustment has not been easy. But we are plugging through.

Benjamin is adjusting beautifully but not without his emotional ups and downs. Me? A bit slower to the punch, of course. Being an adult and all, with my baggage and my mental road blocks and having to parent alone again and do everything else alone again. Well, you can imagine…

The worst of all “alones” – being suddenly alone again every night after Benjamin went to bed has been tough. Just a few of the reasons we set out weeks ago to find a new dog. Enter Mr. Archer, the most well-behaved dog I have ever encountered.

And as Benjamin says he’s “so lovable.”

He is.

Just look at him.

I am absolutely in love with him. And only one week in, all three of us are so incredibly attached to each other–it’s hard to imagine our family without him. Maybe I’m self-medicating our family with a dog, but I don’t care.

This is far better than rebounding with a man, or drugs, or cigarettes.

Many of you have been asking about where Archer came from. Last weekend, Benjamin and I drove up to Chicago to visit Terri and Larry. I was hunting in Ulta for a new perfume and a shampoo that wouldn’t weigh my hair down when a volunteer from the local shelter walked in with a puppy in her arms. They were next door at PetSmart for an adoption day.

I ran up to her, so excited, because Benjamin and I had been looking in Columbus shelters for weeks. But we couldn’t find our dog. One shelter also denied our application because I technically didn’t own Murphy and couldn’t show evidence of being a “good” pet owner with vet records. That hurt, believe me. Nothing like someone telling you when you are raising a human being that you can’t raise a dog. Not that dogs and kids are the same, but come on. Really?

The volunteers in Illinois passed our application in a heart beat and were so excited that Archer, who had been in the shelter for an entire month, would be going “home”. They said his old owner turned him in when the landlord wouldn’t let Archer stay. It’s heart breaking because Archer is so incredibly sweet and well-behaved. You can tell that someone put a tremendous amount of love into this dog.

He’s so well trained, in fact, that I am hiring a dog trainer this weekend to come in and train Benjamin and I. My fear is that we will un-train Archer. If that’s even possible.

But so far, so good. And Archer, who comes to work with me every day – joining Ellie as the second Cement Marketing dog – has died and gone to Heaven.

Related posts:

1. The Rebound Year

Just days after he left, I completely re-arranged my room. I had to. It’s a thing I have. Visibly wiping away the evidence, the memories.

This is the result.

My Mom found the lamp at a thrift store, along with the poster. We’re not finished yet. I still have some stencils from West Elm waiting for the wall. Maybe some leaves creeping up the wall. As soon as the new Cement Marketing office is finished…

Today, the sun was actually shining.

It didn’t melt the ice, but it made me smile. Benjamin was wondering why his bed was so warm. As I was pulling off his dirty sheets he asked, “How do you make everything so warm, Mommy?”

“Me? No, it’s not me, it’s the sun.”

“Oh!”

We both look out the window and feel it and see it. Sunshine.

I can’t wait for Spring. Five or six more weeks, we can hope. I can’t wait to see my room in the Spring, when the windows are open and there’s a breeze. Maybe some new dresses hanging in the closet.

And although I admittedly considered it, I haven’t thrown away this picture yet. I can’t bear to look at it now, but I know that soon enough I will be able to… so I’m keeping it. It’s all about hope.

But for now, I remain committed to nourishing my emotional self back to health. So my room is my Valentine’s Day present to myself.

[Those trinkets and jars and plates on my dresser - all found by Mom in her thirfting journeys. I found the photo at a garage sale years ago. Wrote a post about it in what seems like another life time now.]

Stay tuned for a Valentine’s contest just for all of you. I’ll announce it soon.

Related posts:

1. The Living Room Date
2. No room for a man…literally.
3. Wanna get a hotel room? And other dating horror stories.

The house is just ours now. So, we’ve had to fill some missing holes.

While I have been just trying to make it through each day without dropping a ball, my mother has been around. She’s been helping me to transition the house to just Benjamin and I’s. So, armed with my debit card, I gave her free reign weeks ago to just shop for my house. Because mom is a thrift-a-holic the house has, day by day, been becoming more of a home.

I don’t know how she does it, but the little things are slowly coming together.

A spice rack in the kitchen. An antique, electric clock hanging above the vanity in my room, which is now on a maple desk from the 1960′s (I think) that fits perfectly with my new bed, positioned on a new wall with all new bedding and two lamps on either side. Everything also has a place now because my mother is a tireless organizer. So, I open a drawer and find just what I need. She also helps with the laundry and the cleaning.

Amidst it all I think to myself, “it would be so nice to have wife. I need one of those.”

Mom can’t be my wife, obviously, so I’ll have to look elsewhere.

“Maybe I can hire someone,” I tell mom.

“You could try,” she said, “but that’s tough. You have to really get along with them”

My mom and I don’t really get along. Not all of the time. We snip and snap at each other. But, then we make up and move on. However, I doubt anyone I was paying to be there would stay for very long.

The new Cement Marketing office is just as miraculous. She found everything on Craigslist.com or Habitat’s Re-Use facility. Twin entry couches. A granite conference table. Giant wooden cubes she is going to paint with chalk board paint. All of it is up-cycled. Totally awesome. I’ll post pictures as soon as we’re finished.

—–

If you are a reader and a blogger, there’s a little competition just for you by one of my clients. Please check it out and you could win anywhere from $25 to $250.00 in Visa gift cards. And, your domain will be safer for the kids when your finished.

Check it out.

Related posts:

1. Keeping busy.
2. Work
3. We’re gonna do this.

Busy is good when your life has changed so dramatically.

I feel numb now. The shock has worn off and Benjamin and I are trucking along like we were before John came into our lives. I have found that taking out the trash alone, warming up the car in the morning and even sleeping in a bed alone isn’t nearly as difficult as I thought it would be.

The hardest thing to stomach is this unsettling feeling that trusting a man again will be incredibly difficult for me in the future. I don’t want to shut myself off to men or the idea of a relationship, but I keep hearing echos of promises he made, “I’m not going anywhere,” and the real clincher – “will you marry me?”.

Urgh.

And then I feel sick.

But I am aware of my own inability to clearly see that he had commitment issues from the beginning and that something wasn’t quite gelling between us.

I have also decided that next time (if and when that ever happens) I won’t just expect butterflies, they will be mandatory. Most of all, that’s what I miss. And I never had them with John. But not yet. I don’t want them yet and am in no way ready for any.

In the meantime, to keep myself distracted from all of this Benjamin and I have been busy, busy, busy. Rock climbing yesterday, gymnastics tonight and this weekend – moving into the new Cement Marketing office in downtown Columbus.

Some teaser photos.

The awesome door. It speaks for itself.

My mom and uncle planning the space design and custom furniture.

And a fantastic game of “don’t let the balloon touch the ground.”

Incredibly exciting times. I can’t tell you how rewarding owning your own business is… without a doubt, one of the most incredible things I have ever accomplished (Benjamin being the first of the incredible things, of course).

Related posts:

1. From Break Up Land
2. Single Mom Dating Tips, Part 5
3. A cloud war

Something odd is happening.

This break up is like none I have ever experienced before.

I am sad. Sure. But I’m not broken. In the past I felt ripped apart, wide open and I wanted to fill it–as quickly as possible–with someone or something else. But not this time.

And here’s the really weird part, I have no interest in dating or even thinking about other men. Correction. I have no interest in dating or even thinking about a relationship with another man.

If you thought I was jaded before… well, I’m afraid I am now doubly so. Although “jaded” may not be the right term. How about even more independent than I was before? Even less interested in bringing a man into this party? Ever. Again.

I know. I know.

It’s still early. Nearly one month now – can you believe that?

Is this normal? Am I supposed to feel relieved? Like John and I narrowly missed a miserable marriage and that I narrowly missed a second divorce?

And my mother, in addition to several of my friends, have decided that I am now on a man moratorium. They are cutting me off. Enough is enough. I have lost my relationship card after one too many complete oversights in the love department.

How long do you think my moratorium should last? I’m all for it… but I like goals and sticking to commitments. So tell me–how long? One more month? Two? Six? One year? Or how about this? I will go on a man moratorium until I meet someone worth breaking it for. But – that may not work, because that relies on my judgment, which is out of whack.

Sigh.

I think clearly, the moratorium will remain in full effect indefinitely.

No related posts.

Had to pull out this fantastic comment from Sara to my last post.

“Does it bother you that John is probably reading all this right now? That’s the first thing I thought of when I read your post about the break up. Do you sometimes find yourself writing things in these past few posts for his benefit at all? Like so he sees how well Benjamin is doing or how “crazy” you are at the moment by things like checking out his facebook?”

When I first met John one of the things I loved about him was his understanding and appreciation of this blog and the audience. When a topic was in question, as to whether or not I should blog about it, he always asked, “Will it help them?” Them being, all of the other single moms.

If my answer was “yes”, I could write about whatever I wanted.

The thing I hold the most sacred about this blog is our relationship. You trust what I tell here is as accurate as I perceive it to be. Without that trust, if I were to use this blog to “get back” at someone or to make John’s skin crawl I would be losing your respect and his and Benjamin’s (eventually).

I would be guilty of manipulating the content to my own advantage and to spite or hurt someone. And, to me, that is the cardinal sin of blogging. Especially on this blog.

With that said, there are pieces to stories I have kept from you. John and I’s brief 12-hour break up in May, as an example. There are more stories you still don’t know about or will ever know about (many have to do with Benjamin’s father or our immediate family).

They’re just too personal and could, if told here, affect the outcome of the relationship.

Benjamin is doing well. If he were having issues during this break up, I would tell you. But he’s not. Quite the opposite, which, I believe is absolutely eye opening. And there’s nothing like seeing your child flourishing to reinforce the fact that this is the best outcome for all of us.

Makes getting over a break up a lot easier, too. This is a first for me. But happy kid trumps all else.

I was petrified of how Benjamin would react if John and I didn’t work out. That fear may have been influencing some of my decisions about the relationship, and maybe John’s. Perhaps we both injected too much pressure on the situation.

After Friday’s post–my anger post (that’s about as angry as you’ll see me). I called John to tell him I would be un-friending him on Facebook. And when he asked ‘why’, I let it all spill out. I went on a tangent that included topics like ‘walking away and starting over like nothing happened’, ‘getting to move on Scott-free’ and a bunch of other unnecessary and mean comments, but warranted.

As soon as it was out, I felt better. And in true John fashion he accepted it all and didn’t lash back. He reminded me that this is just as painful for him as it is for me and that this was about our relationship, not my being a single mom. And then I realized that no matter how hard I may try, I can’t hate John. Because he’s John. He’s a good guy. By the end we were talking to each other like old friends and agreed that it sucks for both of us but is clearly for the best.

I haven’t checked his Facebook status since, but I haven’t un-friended him either.

I hope that answers your question. Just know that I would never manipulate this blog’s content for my own good because this is for all of you, for us. The fact that some of my posts may help some of you conquer a few of life’s trials and tribulations is far more important that what John (or any other man) thinks of Benjamin and I.

And did I mention that I am feeling better and better every day? Now that the anger has been vanquished I feel calm and content again. A bit shaken up, but content. Turns out I also don’t need a man to be happy, but I do need my friends–and John (along with all of you) will continue to be among them.

Related posts:

1. From Break Up Land
2. Must Read, Must Link, Must Play
3. Something Missing