Single, not alone

I don’t really know what age I was when I lost my smile. It would come and go until one day it was just...gone. The plastic smile I put on the outside of my face got much more attention than it deserved.  “I love your smile! They would all say. I would reply with a quick  “Thanks” and duck my head. My smile looked real enough but it was not connected to my heart. My smile was a hollow mask that only reminded me of how sad I was on the inside.  I was not satisfied with my fake smile. A quest was needed to find my real smile. I looked at school. Everyone seemed so happy at school with their groups and their friends, so I found my group. It was the theater group. Everyone there seemed a bit odd which helped me fit in. I found glimpses of my smile by pretending I was someone else on stage. However, the smile seemed to melt away whenever I stopped playing a part and tried to be myself. My theater people were loud. So loud that I could pretend that everything was ju...

I know they are whispering. I see it in their face. I know they are judging, for how could they not? My son is running wild, causing mayhem in his path. I'm tired. Tired of yelling, tired of trying, tired of feeling like the bad guy, tired of feeling hopeless, tired of failing. I let him run free while I shut my eyes but as I rest, I feel the disappointment around me. "Can't she control him? Why is she doing nothing? I would never let my child do that. That kid is loud. He is a bully. He is crazy and not in a good way. He is a bad example. I don't want him around my children. I don't want him around me." I lay there in and out of consciousness, not sure if their words are in my head or spoken softly behind my back, but it hurts the same. They don't want my son. They must not want me. They hate me. My son is in trouble again. I'm terrified of discipline. They expect me to mess up. They expect me to lose my temper. I have been told one too many times...

"I chose the right mommy. Can we talk about the mommy shop and daddy shop and boy shop? I went to the mommy shop and looked at your face and said, ‘you have my mommy's face’ and so I picked you. Then I picked daddy and then you and daddy picked me and Jesus said 'You have parents!! You have parents!!!!' And then he said 'That's right. while doing a cool, gun pointing gesture. - AJ age 4 I stand hopeful, my smile frozen in place on my face to hide my nerves. Children swarm up the isles of the store. The mommy next to me tries to make some idle chatter about how she will be chosen by the best children ever. I nod while thinking the same thing about my children. I wait. I see two beautifully dressed children walk right up to me. They have golden hair with deep blue eyes. One is a girl, the other, an older boy. The girl reaches out and takes my hand. She is gentle. My once forced smile becomes genuine. “Pick me,” I think. “Oh please pick me!” The older boy...

Today is the day. I have time. I have energy. I have desire. This whole house will be spotless! With tunes blasting, I start strong. First, I begin with the messiest task, my bedroom. The scattered toys are the first to go. “Where did all these toys come from?” I ask my son as I consider making the garbage can the final resting place for the toys. Suddenly, a rare surge of motivation helps me jump to action when an idea comes to my mind. “Fetch me paper, sissies, tape, and a marker please.” I instruct my son. Curious, he races to obey. “What ya doing mommy?” My boy asks as he hands me the objects I asked for. “I'm making labels so you can know where to put your toys,” I reply. I begin my task. Art drawer... labeled! Costume drawer... done! Puzzles, sensory toys, games, projects, Legos, blocks, junk drawer, penny drawer, drawer that holds NOTHING! All the drawers are labeled perfectly. I feel successful as we sort all the toys into the correct bins. My dear son has to examine and pl...

Relationships were not meant to stand still. Relationships are made to help us become stronger. Some people are put in our path to break our heart so we can learn how to heal and forgive. Some people drop in and drop out in a blink of an eye, right when we need them. Some relationships are roller coasters but they are worth the ride. However, some relationships change until they are unrecognizable. Relationships are constantly shifting, but that is because people are changing. For instance, I am no longer that naive little girl who fell in love with the man with smooth words. I'm not the girl who throws things and yells when I don't get my way. I'm broken, but I have been duct taped back together thanks to the people who never gave up on me. Now I'm stronger than ever. Relationships that I thought were strong are so much stronger now because I am stronger. Why does God put certain people in our lives? Why did God give me the weaknesses that I have that makes relationsh...

“Gabe! I want to see Gabe. Can we go to Gabe's house? I love Gabe.” My son has a one track mind. He has been talking about his cousin for the last hour and a half. “Soon,” I respond patiently for the fifteenth time. “When is soon?” My boy asks me. I roll my eyes and ignore the question. I've already told him we would go after breakfast several times. Finally, it is time to go. We drive across town to my sister's house. Gabe's face peers out the window. He sees my son and jumps from excitement. My son hurries to Gabe's mom who is opening the door for us. Time slows down as the two cousins dramatically rush to each other's arms. “I love you Gabe!” My son declares “I love you Gugus!” Gabe responds. They disappear into the playroom room together, laughing hysterically. My sister and I are content now that our boys are happy. We head to the living room to begin a project. With yarn and hooks out, we begin the complicated process of making scarves. “Arrrrrg! Stop ...

“No, you cannot have ice cream.” I tell my son sternly. “Please?!!!” he asks again for the tenth time. “N.O. spells no.” I reply in a singsong voice. “N.O. spells YES!” My child throws back at me. Amused, I smile and assure him that when I say, ”No,” I mean it. His face shows rejection as he says, "Mommy, you hurt me." I reply “Oh really? Where?” thinking for a second, he points to his head and says, "You hurt my brain." Folding his arms in defiance, tears start streaming down his face. “I decided that you are not my mom anymore!” he declares harshly. Before I can stop it, a small “Fttttts” sounds bursts from my mouth. It's the sound I make when I know I shouldn't laugh because his feelings are valid, but, he is so incredibly cute being mad that I just cannot hold my laugh inside. His face contorts into, what he thinks, is a face of pure intimidation. “Well, well, well….well, you are so mean!” He shouts and stomps away. I know his anger will not be cute wh...