We found a house, the house. Finally. Offer accepted and inspection approved.

The house is so perfect it makes the months of hunting worth every false start and failed inspection. John and I are both in love with the place. In the end, after making a million compromises along the way, it turns out–we didn’t have to compromise one thing.

So, now we wait.

We wait two months until the end of September when we move in and on. Already, just a few days into knowing what’s next and where is next I am beginning to miss this life. The single mom chapter, but above all, the Benjamin and I chapter.

As much as I can’t wait to shut the door on this apartment for the last time, I’ll miss it.

I can’t imagine I’ll ever miss the damp basement or the tiles on the bathroom floor, faded directly in the path of the sun that falls on them every morning. Or the windows that refuse to shut, the yard behind them overgrown with brush and weeds or the sink that spits food disposal back up and out the other drain. Won’t miss those things–ever. But, I will miss the sound of the boards creaking under my feet as I tiptoe downstairs, into my night after putting Benjamin down for his. I’ll miss the sight of my bedroom after I’ve tossed clothes everywhere, trying on every last thing before finding something just right. If I ever have a bedroom of my own again it won’t be a happy bedroom, like this one. This is my last single bedroom. And finally, I’ll miss the sound of John Bear coming over, his key at the door and Murphy scratching at his feet ready to jump on me as soon as he can track me down.

I’ll miss way this apartment seems to knows everything about me. She’s got 900 square feet bursting with memories of faces, places in my mind as I made my way through this maze of single motherhood. Her walls saw it all, Benjamin saw less but enough to know that his mother is real, flawed and far from holding the key to any of life’s mysteries.

I couldn’t protect him from everything.

He’s seen me cry here and he’s seen me completely and utterly exhausted but he’s also seen me laugh myself into tears and he’s watched as I slowly learned to let go so I could find real love for the first time in my life and in his. But all along the way he’s known that I love him and that nothing will ever change that.

We’re ready to move on, both of us – all three of us.

Two months is perfect.

Just enough time for Benjamin and I to stay on this side of the dream for a bit longer, to give it a proper good-bye. We owe her that much.

The new house is just the right size, directly across the street from the elementary school, happy young families everywhere (no vampires that we know of) and plenty of playgrounds.

Related posts:

1. House hunting and man hunting?
2. Out of order
3. A little mystery.

The next time I say I am going to start my own business and a new workshop series – just stop me, shake me and then throw some cold water in my face.

After two weeks of prep while managing client work and all of that new business stuff, the final Sway Workshop is under way. The Workshop, in case you are curious, consists of nine innocent attendees who have willingly signed themselves up for two days of non-stop talk about search engine optimization (SEO). A topic, that although fascinating, can also be a bit overwhelming and, if discussed for long periods of time, lead to a nasty case of dry mouth accompanied by this itchy feeling in the back of your throat that makes you lose your will to ever speak again.

After the close of day one Brad and I hobbled upstairs from Wild Goose and into the Cement Marketing office. After a few minutes of remaining upright we both collapsed. Me on the couch, stretching my heeled feet until they spilled over the end of our little couch and Brad on the floor, resting his cheek on a scrappy edge of a little Ikea carpet.

We concluded that perhaps Sway would be better delivered online, to a virtual audience – one that can hit rewind again and again on our virtual talking heads so that we don’t have to feel this kind of physical pain ever again. And then we remember that we have to do it all over again tomorrow. But, we’re excited and proud. Because as Brad points out, “look how far we’ve come from that day when we were taking pictures of our empty new space.” We did it. And from what we can tell, our attendees are learning a shit ton about SEO. Mission accomplished (almost).

There’s still tomorrow to defeat.

For now, I’m here in my apartment ignoring the absolute disaster surrounding me. Thanks to the festival last weekend and Sway this week I have now, effectively, taken two full weeks off from cleaning. In fact, I’m not sure you could walk through a single room in the place and manage to stay in a straight line without stepping on something, stubbing a toe or just feeling an overwhelming sense of disgust with the creatures who must live in this place. The creatures, of course, being Benjamin and I.

And I fed Benjamin donuts for dinner tonight. Donuts.

I did it because the plate was there. This giant leftover plate of donuts that no one would take on Twitter and then there was Benjamin. Sitting there looking cute and adorable, he wasn’t even asking for the donuts but I thought – this horrible thought, “What if I could go one night without making dinner?”

It happened so quickly and before I knew it Benjamin was devouring all of the glazed and nutty cinnamon goodness he could pop into his little mouth, pausing only to say, “This is the best dinner ever, Mommy.”

Good night sweet stranger people. I hope you have a marvelous weekend. And eat a donut for me.

Related posts:

1. Absent, with reason
2. We’re gonna do this.
3. Unexpected reality

I took this picture of myself in my office the other day.

It felt weird.

To take my own picture, but I had to for our Sway website (currently in the works). So I set the camera on top of three books and an end table then hit the auto-timer. Somewhere in the span of 10 seconds it caught this picture.

I like it. Not only because it’s a cute shot (it is pretty cute – it’s okay that I think that, right?) but because it captures exactly how I feel right now.

When I am an old lady (hopefully I get there) lying in my bed, daydreaming about some of the best days and times in my life – this will be one of them, one of those shining years. And when I am grasping for the memory, the feeling of what it feels like to be living my life in this moment – I’ll look at this picture (assuming I can still see).

It started one year ago, last February when I went to Joshua Tree. The oasis where the past and the future meet. Remember? That place is magical. Seriously.

So, what are you going to do to set the wheels of change in motion for your life today, this week or this year? Last February (before Joshua Tree) I quit smoking. Cold turkey.

On my one year anniversary of quitting (February 16th) I am going to challenge each of you to quit something for seven days. Just seven days. You can pick it back up after. But I am hoping all of you (under the scrutiny of myself and my readers) can stick to your commitment. You can quit anything – maybe it’s quitting thinking negative thoughts about your hair or using plastic cups.  I don’t care what it is. But we all need to quit something. And if you can do it for seven days – well, that’s a start.

Little victories like that are huge in the game of life.

I hope you don’t all throw eggs at me now and boo me away for being all preachy. I don’t mean to be. What do you think? What will you quit?

P.S.

Check out even more pictures of our new space and our team on the Cement Marketing Flickr account.

Related posts:

1. Neither here, nor there.
2. Cigarrettes, men and some major trust issues.
3. To lift your spirits:

I am not sure working like this is entirely healthy for anyone, let alone a single mom. My back and shoulders are a tight, tangled mess of nerves and poor posture induced kinks. My face keeps breaking out and my bedroom is constantly messy, always a sign of being too busy to breathe.

I need to buy one of those jacuzzi tubs or enslave a personal massage therapist. Between work, the house and Benjamin I rarely find a moment to myself – in the peace and quiet of the nothing to do.

How can us professional parents keep up with the childless who can devote 100% of their energy to their work? And isn’t there something wrong with this picture? Overworked workers, unemployment lines growing, parents who are left with no time to raise their children and young people who know having a child would spell disaster for their career.

Are we all just being taken for a ride? A ride that ends at the last and final stop when we wake up (too late) to realize we have worked our lives away. Shouldn’t we all slow down a bit? Seems like we’re all getting a bit carried away. Or maybe it has always been like this and I am just the mother of a three year old lost in the Land of the Toddler standing her gaping at the Land of Employment During a Recession.

The future scares me (just a little bit). Nothing to panic about.

It’s my neurotic paranoia setting in as the months fly by and I wonder when they will turn into years flying by. The end. I hate thinking about the end and I don’t want it to get here (not yet).

Not like this.

Life has to slow down first so I can enjoy the moments, or at, the very least, take a damn bath. One year ago I wrote this post for WeTV asking the real mothers to please stand up and I explored Gloria Steinem’s thought that the women’s rights movement isn’t over – that true success is not doing it all. I wondered out loud how we mothers could be held up to such impossible standards:

The pressure of motherhood in today’s world, if you think about it, is unbelievable — and it comes at us from every direction, every day, in every hour and in every minute. If we’re doing one thing, we’re often thinking about another. If we’re working, we wish we could be home with the kids. If we’re staying at home, we wonder what it would be like to have that career. But while raising a human is arguably the most important job on this planet, there are no exceptional clauses to protect mothers in the work place….

Today with the advent of blogs and all other forms of online communication, millions of moms are rewriting the definition of success by telling their own stories – re-writing the definition of success one word at a time. The real stories from the trenches of motherhood have emerged.

As a result, advertisers, politicians, employers and the media are no longer telling us how to think, or what we should feel but asking us for a seat at the table. As for whether or not it will work, we’ll see but at least it’s a start.

If you’re like me (crazed about making it work with so little time and searching for clarity) read Seth Godin’s free and new eBook, What Matters Now. Absolutely awesome. I read a new page every morning, savoring them before they run out.

What are your thoughts? Do you think the US should follow suit of European countries, like Germany, and give mothers many more freedoms to stay home with their little ones if they choose? Should we take a step back and demand mothers’ rights in the workplace?

Personally, I have an exceptional job and am treated very well at work – but the hours are naturally demanding and I have to keep up with people who don’t have children, so that’s tough personally because as much as I would like to slow down, I want to do it all. I want to be everything to everyone.

I am not unhappy or depressed. The rushed feeling is just killing me. Share your thoughts. Really curious about what you all think.

—–

The above is why it has taken me so long to announce the winner to my New Year New Leaf contest.

It was a tough call but I thought her post nailed the mission.

Each and every one of you who entered should have received your free copy of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored by now. If you haven’t, e-mail me and I’ll get you one right away.

You all inspire me beyond belief. Every single day. You tell me I inspire you, but – believe me – it’s the other way around.

Related posts:

1. What’s a single working mama to do?
2. The test for any single working mother: the morning wake up.
3. Can this city girl handle the burbs?

This is Holly.

We met one month ago when I decided to have my first manicure and pedicure in over three years… maybe four. On one of my afternoon escapades with Benjamin and just after I’d found out about my new job, I noticed a sign outside for her salon for a $20.00 manicure and a $35.00 pedicure. The sign and her low price (manicures are ridiculously expensive in Ohio for some reason) got me I made an appointment for some long overdue Me Time.

So there we were, two single moms, one in the midst of year three and beginning the best relationship she’s ever had and the other just beginning, only a single for five months with two daughters-ages 11 and 5. We spent a good amount of our time that day talking about everything from ex-management to bad boy complexes and facing your fears as a single mom.

Today during my pedicure (oh, so awesome) I pointed to a headline on one of those magazines with a quote from Kate Gosselin, “I never knew how strong I could be,” something to that effect. I read the line to Holly and then she said, “Yeah, but there are a lot of emotions along the way before you get to that point.”

I nodded and neither one of us had to say a word.

The single mama roller coaster. No matter where you are on the ride there will always be a cliff hanger, a sudden drop or maybe even a few jerks but then there is that awesome high you get when you start to free fall. But not once did a negative word escape Holly’s mouth. She is remarkable and like most of us, would rather have it this way – no matter how tough the going gets.

We also talked about work, working our asses off – to make it work. Holly recently went out on her own by opening her own boutique within the salon. I mention it only because I empathize with her bravery.

Which brings me to my question for all of you--how do you make it work? What is your solution? Or are you looking for one?

Do you work from home? Do you work part-time? Do you have a punching bag? Do you have a miracle organization system? I am sure our advice and insights for one another on managing work, life, dating and the kids will be incredible. So spill it in the comment section and feel free to leave a link to your business if you have one. Personally, I try to shop single mama whenever I can.

Everyone who leaves a comment will be entered to win one of five copies of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored: Dating, Sex and Love. (Still only $8.95 a copy btw).

And then I found out her little boutique within the salon is her first stab at starting her own business. Which brings me to something I want to pick your brain about… how do you make it work?

P.S.

If you live in Columbus, find Holly here.

Related posts:

1. Dating Single Parents: Can it Work?
2. Boyfriend + toddler + work = tired single mama

I spotted my first fallen leaves in the grass of the baseball diamond near my post office last Thursday.

The bag over my shoulder was bursting with little brown packages. Each containing a silver or bronze new leaf necklace destined for one of you. I make this walk to the post office, with Murphy in tow and sometimes Mr. Benjamin, at least a few times a week. And still, two months after quitting the day job, these post office trips are my favorite part about my new job.

The walk itself is the last step before the necklaces will be around your necks. I’ve sent packages all over the world now. One even went to Saskatchewan. Another to Argentina and yet another to Great Britian. On these walks it all comes full circle. I feel like a bearer of hope, sending little packages of it one by one to each of you who so generously chose to support my little blogging career by buying one.

When I saw the leaves I stopped for a second to digest the sight of them. August, I thought, it’s still August but I guess Fall is almost here now. I gave Murphy a little whistle and we kept walking. Now about thirty feet from the busy street I had to cross to reach the post office and with the building before me, I started thinking about her.

The first time she processed a pile of my packages, stamping them all and tucking them away under her counter she asked me what was inside.

“Necklaces,” I answered.

“Well, you’re not allowed to send jewelry to Canada,” her words were cold as her hands rested on one of my brown envelopes destined for a single mom in Ontario.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know why,” she said. Still as cold as ice.

“What happens if I send it and they catch it? Do they just send it back?”

“Yes.” She looked annoyed now and ran her hands through her silver gray hair. It was long, falling past her shoulders. I decided she either hated me, hated being here, hated life or hated her job and then I made another decision – to send the necklaces anyway. It sounded like a stupid law anyway.

“I’ll take my chances.” We proceeded as if she didn’t know anything about the contents of my little envelopes. I paid and I left.

The next time I went in with some packages for Canada I saw her behind the counter and I cringed. Damn it. She asked me again about what was inside and I answered truthfully. She shook her head disapprovingly and we ran through the drill. I paid and I left. Even when I brought Benjamin she was still cold. One time another postal worker tipped me off, telling me to call them accessories.

The last time I had seen her, before I saw the leaves, maybe a few days beforehand she spied my brown envelopes marked with the “CAN” and said, “and what’s in them?”

“Accessories,” I answered.

“And we’ve been over the accessory thing before, right?” She asked.

“Yes,” I said politely.

I looked behind my shoulder to take a quick look at Murphy who was tied up outside and obediently waiting for me.

“What kind of dog is he?” She asked. For the first time ever I noticed a sparkle in her eyes.

“A Wheaton Terrier.”

“Oh, how cute!” She was completely lit up now and then slipped me a stack of little green customs forms. “Here just fill these customs forms out about the accessories and next time bring him in so he can have some treats.”

“You have treats?”

“Yes, we always have some back here.” She tapped her counter and was still starring through the window, unable, it seemed to take her eyes off of my dog. I paid, thanked her and then left.

I remember calling John Bear to tell him that “the mean postal lady finally smiled. It was a minor miracle.”

In spite of her wishes for me to bring Murphy in I left him tied up outside. He jumps and I saw a bit of a line in the post office, shoulders neatly stacked in a long row of bodies, hands clutching packages and envelopes. When I took my place behind them I noticed she wasn’t there. And then I piece of paper taped to the edge of her counter, the type blown up by a copy machine. It wasn’t until a few moments before I went up to meet the man standing in her place that I realized the paper was an obituary.

“Is this for the woman with the long gray hair, she used to be right here?” I asked the obvious question, the words trailing out of my mouth when I saw the man’s eyes were clearly stressed. He nodded his head as I quickly scanned the obituary.

53…Suddenly at her home.

“A heart attack?” I asked him. And she was only 53? She had looked much older.

“Yeah, a heart attack, it’s been rough.”

“I’m so sorry.” But I was mostly sorry I hadn’t made her smile sooner, I should have given her a necklace.

On the day she died Benjamin and I were on Fiesta Movement Mission 4.

Every agent picked a charity, I chose to volunteer at a senior center because I knew, without a doubt, Benjamin would brighten their days just by being there. And he did. Check the video out.

We only spent a few hours with the seniors but in that time I learned that each and every one of them, many over 80 and even some over 90, were happy – optimistic, relaxed and enjoying their moments.

I’m not saying every grumpy person out there is going to die of a heart attack but maybe making some time to just be happy, maybe trading a few material things (like that fancy car or purse) and choosing to work less hours would actually lengthen your life. There’s nothing wrong with spending a lot less because you’ll start living a lot better.

It’s not something you can do tomorrow, I understand that – it took me two years to get to the point where I could work from home – but it can happen. Maybe someday I’ll be able to tell you how to do it … need more of that thing called time, keeps slipping away, through my fingers almost. One thing I can tell you… only buy what you need. Save every penny and don’t live beyond your means.

For inspiration on how to make some extra money at home and in how you can channel your creativity browse Etsy.com, most of the items for sale here are made by work at home moms. And also visit SwapMamas.com where moms are saving big money by trading stuff they don’t need or use anymore. Mommy Pie started that site a few months back when she got laid off from her job.

Big things, mamas. Big things. Dream big, okay? And for God’s sake – smile, would ya? Oh and don’t die on me. I don’t like that when people just disappear. Freaks me out.

Related posts:

1. My dark side
2. One side effect of being a dating single mama…my baby is trying to make out with me.
3. My new dance partner

On the Friday after the Wednesday night when we finally got home, we took off again. This time Benjamin and Murphy were stuffed into the back seat and we were driving John’s car instead of Fiesta Dave. Even after hours of driving on our vacation, John never could get comfortable driving the stick.

The rehearsal would be on Saturday afternoon with a rehearsal dinner out at my mother’s house and then the wedding on Sunday. Up until now John’s exposure to my family has been limited, only because, aside from my mother, my family just isn’t around. When we do get together it can be quite overwhelming for anyone new to the mix. My stomach flipped on the way down just thinking about what John may or may not witness.

It was nearly dark when we pulled into our cabin, the Big Pine at Lake Hill Cabins. Tucked just one mile away from my mother’s house where wedding madness would be ensuing all weekend.

The cabin owner, Shelly is a long-time acquaintance of mine so she gave us a sweet deal. If you’re ever in Athens, Ohio mention you saw her cabin here on my blog and she’ll give you a discount too.

On Saturday, I reluctantly left Anna knee deep in cooking and party prep

while we headed off to the rehearsal where Benjamin practiced his impromptu role as his cousin Josie’s flower basket holder. He absolutely loved the idea of “going to work.”

Later that afternoon we headed back to Mom’s for a rehearsal dinner that would have made Martha Stewart envious. My mother and sister are master chefs in their own right, and had food fit for royalty.

And they have the shabby chic thing down pat.

And thanks to the Texans (Mom’s man Larry and his son, Micah)

there was enough brisket to feed an army.

But I was distracted by my handsome man, in his outfit that made him look he’d just stepped out of a J. Crew catalog.

On Sunday we were packing up, sad to leave the cabin but excited to get back to reality. After he popped outside with an armful of luggage John came bursting back through the door.

“Alaina!” he screamed.

“What? What?”

“The key broke, the key to my car just snapped in half.”

The wedding started in one hour and our cabin was twenty minutes away. I tried not to hyperventilate and reached for the phone. Who could we call? We tried my mother’s house but no one answered. We tried Shelly but she was away from her home phone and her cell wasn’t picking up. I managed to reach Eliot, who could only say, “Just don’t be late for the ceremony!”

Breaking the key, being so close to finally home and now completely stuck had not only snapped his key, but also John and I’s patience. We were both snapping, at each other, even at Benjamin who at this point could tell that he needed to keep playing with his toys and ignore the adult chaos above him.

Eventually we reached Larry who zipped over to the cabin. John jumped in the truck, took Larry back to mom’s and then came back to pick us up. While he was there I put Benjamin’s tuxedo on him and he looked up at me and said, “Mommy, I am a prince. And you are my princess.” As I buttoned his vest and secured his bow tie I saw his eyes on me with such intensity and knew this would be one of those moments he remembers for the rest of his life. Then I looked at him, kissed his little cheek and whispered, “Yes, you are, my little prince – always.”

Then John Bear pulled up.

Somehow we made it on time

but it was right before we walked into the ceremony that I noticed John’s vacant stare, he had reached his limit. We were here but how would we get home after the reception? Until we figured it out we sat back and watched my littlest brother get married to my beautiful sister-in-law…

I just love Katie. And would you look at this?

At the reception, you couldn’t tell but John and I were still tense as hell. See? Just look at me… I secretly want to kill a baby bunny, even though I’m standing next to my brother Ezra’s awesome super model girlfriend Monica.

And just look at John. He’s ready to snap.

In the end my brother lent me my old Focus, the car I’ve been letting him drive while I use my Fiesta. We drove it home and finally made it back around 1:00 am on Sunday night. A few days after I picked up his car, with the fixed key and things had settled down a bit I melted down. It was too much. The residual stress of the weekend and the trip and now I was feeling some kind of tension between us.

“I just think that maybe we are spending too much time together. Maybe,” I said to him over the phone in a hushed voice even though Benjamin was upstairs, “we should spend less time together and that would make things easier. Maybe there is too much pressure on us.” I had used these lines on men in my past and they’d been very effective in pushing them away, forcing them into a corner where their only option was to fight back, claw their way out and break my heart. But John wasn’t playing.

“Woah. Wait a minute,” he said, “that doesn’t make any sense. To me spending less time together would be running away from this. We’re going to be fine. We just have to work through these things.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m just trying to run. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, babe, everything is going to be fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

The next day, a Sunday, John came over and we all three spent the entire day together from start to finish. Our first full day together, it was absolutely splendid. And in the daily moments of chaos between juggling a child and a dog and everything else we just looked at each other and solved the problem, not with stress in our voices of faces but with laughter and smiles.

Compared to the last two weeks of our lives, this was cake.

Now for the rest of whatever life has in store for us, I can only imagine but I think we’re ready for whatever it brings.

The wedding album is now complete. I labeled the pictures… start with this one and read the story in the caption. Something crazy happened to Eliot and Katie en route from the wedding to the reception in their Just Married car.

—–

P.S. One of you said in my last post that these long trip posts seem manipulative. I can assure you, they are not… it just takes me forever to write them. This one, for example, took me five hours to put together. Five hours. It just takes a long time, really and between everything else – I do have to work still and then there’s the 3.5 year old thing. That’s all. Just don’t want any of you to think I am taking advantage of you. Thank you.

Related posts:

1. The Trip Story: Part 3
2. The Trip Story: Part I
3. The Trip Story: Part 2

As I’m putting the final touches on Ms. Single Mama Uncensored I’m finding that in nearly every thought and in every piece there is even more I want to write. But at some point I have to stop, right? I guess I don’t want to stop though… so expect a Part II or an expanded version after this one (but I’ll be taking a huge break in between because this is obviously not easy, although incredibly exciting and fun).

In the meantime, I have popped my head up for air every once in a while and noticed that Benjamin has grown really fond of the life size E.T. doll we found for $8.50 at the thrift store.

He takes him into bed, outside to play and even sits him on the potty. E.T. was a perfectly normal alien until Murphy came home with this on his head.

He has a bad boo boo where his “you know whats” used to be, on account of being unable to stop licking the area in question.

After we took Murphy to the vet E.T. started coming down with frequent cases of the flu and I’ve actually had to practice the Heimlich on this thing. But if it all of this madness makes Benjamin smile like this, than I know I’m doing something right…

And guess who has figured out how to pose for the camera?

Watch out Ladies.

Okay. Back to work. Some things coming up soon:

• Remember the Lion? Of the Lion and the Tiger… well, even though our date didn’t pan out he is an awesome guy and on that date I told him I had met John just the day before. “But,” I said, “I could feature you on my blog as an eligible bachelor. You’re just so cute!” And very soon now — you’ll all be meeting him.
• A very exciting Ford Fiesta Movement Mission video of John Bear and I’s fashion makeovers.
• Another big Single Edition contest. You’re going to love the package I’ve put together, awesome stuff for single mamas.

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2. My Boyfriend
3. So there’s this dog…

A few weeks ago, or was it months? my ex offered, or did I ask? to take Benjamin two nights a week instead of one.

For several weeks he upheld his new commitment, enjoying every extra moment with his son until on week four he told me he was tired. I understood. It’s hard. This kid thing, this three-year-old thing.

But while adjusting to two nights a week with your son after three years of one is tough, adjusting to two nights of freedom, I found, is much easier.

I have been using the extra nights to catch up with long neglected friends and to make appointments for long neglected things, like my teeth.

Last night I got a text, “I will bring Benjamin back tomorrow, I have a meeting on Thursday.”

This morning another text comes, “I need to be done by 5:30. No later. I have my Wednesday night order to fill at work.”

“I have a dentist appointment but it should be done by then,” I tell him later on the phone.

The dentist’s office is remarkable.

They’ve squeezed me in on short notice knowing my insurance expires on Friday.

Just after the needles and just before the numbness creeps into my mouth I start chatting with the assistant. She tells me she was a single mom once too – for three years – and now she’s happily re-married. You can see it in her face – she is happy, completely content.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? How much easier it is to find a good man when you already have the child,” I tell her.

“Oh, definitely,” she says, “Because it’s not for you, it’s for your kid, you know?”

“And for you and for him and for the kid – for the entire family. It just gives you a clearer perspective on what matters. Kind of a perk.”

“Yeah, when before it was just about how hot they were or whatever.”

“Or if they took you out on a nice date. Like, who has time for dates when you have kids?”

We are now practically completing each other’s sentences. And then my mouth goes completely numb.

Bummer.

After the dentist delicately carves five holes in my mouth I realize it’s 5:00.

They tell me it will be at least an hour until we’re finished.

An hour? What about my ex and his deadline? What about Benjamin?

Who can I call?

I can’t leave. He can’t come here. I have holes in my teeth. Holes. And I can’t even talk.

I text Mia desperately.

No response.

She’s probably working.

I am under the lights. My head is pounding. They’re all being so nice, the dental people – these wonderful, awesome people – so patient with this frantic texting girl who has stuff propping her mouth open and wild eyes.

I have no one else to call.

The bitter reality, the non-perk of my single motherhood hits hard. These “I have no one” moments come to all of us and always at the worst times, the times – of course – when you wish you weren’t alone.

You may be on the side of the road with a flat tire, stuck in a rain storm on the street, on an airplane with a stranger in the third seat or at the dentist’s office. Wherever you are the reality of that moment always makes you want to sink, to cry, to completely deflate.

But you can’t, so you don’t – you have no choice but to find a solution, for your child’s sake.

I text the Bear.

“Can you do me a huge favor and go to my place and hang with Benjamin until I am out of the dentist’s. Stuck.”

Not even one minute later a new text zips over.

“I’m on my way.”

The two have met a few times before.

There was the time when he dropped off Benjamin’s pink eye prescription… we were outside when he pulled up and he had dinner in his hands. Dinner. Because I’d had a long day and Benjamin had a fever.

And on Mother’s Day weekend the Bear joined me on my first Fiesta Mission. Benjamin, although sleeping most of the time, was in the car for the first leg before we dropped him off at grandma’s so we could continue on.

The fillings were nearly finished. At some point I’d read a text from my ex who was furious at me for introducing Benjamin to another man.

“I am pissed,” he wrote, “call me later.”

I feel like I may choke on my numb tongue and I kind of want to… I would rather be having these fillings than walking out of this office to see the face of my new man who has just met my ex without me even there.

When I get home the Bear and Benjamin are sitting on the front porch playing.

Benjamin is jumping up and down – ecstatic to see me, the Bear is laughing. It’s a beautiful and frightening sight.

I’m also still a bit queasy.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“Nothing, but you should go,” I say this even though I want him to stay because I feel like hell and my mouth, although numb, is still uncomfortable. I just want to lie down – to rest.

“I should stay,” he says.

“No, you should go, even though I want you to stay.”

After a big hug and good-bye to Benjamin the Bear heads out.

I went through the motions of the night in my exhausted body. And at some point I forgave myself. Because even though meeting the Bear may put Benjamin on a therapy couch in 20 years – this is my reality, this is our reality.

He is the son of a single mom.

This is his life and the only thing I can do is make sure we both make it out alive, well and hopefully as happy as we are now. Hopefully, unless I mess it up… or overthink us both to death.

Whichever comes first. Believe it or not, I’m avoiding them both at all costs.

P.S.

You’ll all be meeting the Bear very shortly… my mission video should be posted soon.

Related posts:

1. Reality.
2. He texted me again! WTF?
3. Just when I thought I was safe…

I’ve got nothing, so I’m giving you another fantastic link that’s sure to get your brain going or at the very least, entertain you for a second…

The reason for the link? Because I love you – and I want to make you smile. And I don’t have much time to write tonight.

Spent today cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. So sexy. The house is still trashed. I don’t get it. How can such a tiny little human make such a phenomenol mess, over and over and over again? And I think I actually cooked three meals today. Should be sleeping right now… and will be in a second.

But first, I have to pass this on… check out this post from DivorceDrama.net featuring a collection of divorce photos including one with a law firm’s billboard that says, “Life is short, get a divorce” and the one I’ve pictured here.

I’ve never been a vengeful person, but the future ex-wife billboard is pretty cool.

Would you ever do something like that? Did you ever do anything like that?

Photo Credit: DivorceDrama.net

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