You "win"

Thanks for taking out the garbage for me.

Revenge

Poetry Challenge: 7 word story

Pity

Bridge

Standing on a bridge, feeling it shake beneath me. Wanting to run to safety, but afraid the land I reach was already crumbling long ago. 

Afraid of the shaking.

Afraid of the crumbling. 

Can't move forward.

Can't stand still.

"Move feet, move!!!"

My knees buckle at the thought of taking one step.

Frozen. Afraid. Suspended so high, feeling gravity pulling me. The world is trying to swallow me, so why won't my legs move?

I take a step, and the bridge swings. Another step. Why does the bridge seem to grow longer?

One foot after another, I trudge forward. Yet, I freeze every few steps. 

The bridge stretches out before me, seemingly on until infinity.

Feeling like this, it's really hard not to wonder how I will ever reach solid ground. 

But on I walk...one step at a time.

JYM

Chase Your Dreams

I'm still chasing my happy ending with every intention of catching it. 

Letting Go and Moving Forward

She wanted my life and she took it! He was so willing to go!!

Let it go.

He betrayed me!

Let it go.

He lied!!!

Let it go.

I follow all the rules,while he breaks every single one and still gets everything he wants!!

Let it go.

He feels and acts entitled to information whenever he pleases while he sits back responsibility free playing video games all day!

Let it go.

My son hurts and feels rejected! I try and try to give my son stability! All he does is decimate his self esteem, making him feel unwanted! Making him feel he only has a playmate and not a mentor!

Let it go.

He sees my son's agonizing disappointment as normal!

Let it go.

I do everything for my son!

Let it go.

I wake my grouchy son in the morning and struggle to get him off to school...

Move forward.

I put my thoughts down. I schedule. I chauffeur. I apply. I plan. I launder. I fold. I grocery shop. I bank. I dream...

Move forward.

I pick my son up from school. He climbs in the car, full of energy, smelling of dirt and little boy. Sometimes he's happy, sometimes he's down but he always shares his day with me. I hear and note his friends' names. I give advice. I smile at his silliness. I laugh at his jokes. I help him with his homework. I argue with him. I struggle and get tired out. 

Move forward.

I cart him to his appointments, practices and games. I help him with his gear as he laughs and starts to light up at the thought of taking the ice. I struggle to contain him while he gets into his gear. I feel like I'm dressing a monkey, ha ha! I smile and sigh when his blades hit the ice.

Move forward.

My heart is light watching him skate. My son is truly happy for an hour. 

Move forward.

I struggle to get his gear off him. He drags his feet. He takes forever...and I know why. He feels safe and happy at the rink. He forgets his family is broken. He forgets his dad moved away. He feels at peace. It's hard for me to leave too.

Move forward.

I drive my son home. Sometimes he gets a call. I try not to listen. My peace is broken. My son's mood darkens. My mood drops with my sons. Sometimes my son hangs up, feeling angry. 

Move forward.

I get him home and try to comfort him. I try to defuse his imminent temper tantrum aimed at me, because I'm here. I'm someone tangible to be angry with.

Move forward.

I make dinner never knowing if I will get the happy, silly, angry or sad  version of my son. I get all three. I'm exhausted, but proud I got a home cooked meal in him today. I do the dishes, hoping I'll get him in bed at a reasonable hour. 

Move forward.

I corral him for special playtime. We play Legos and toy cars. I somehow manage to coerce him to bathe. I make sure he brushes his teeth and takes his medicine. I argue with him until he manages to win. I allow him to watch one more YouTube episode of Stampylongnose.

Move forward.

My son's eyes slip closed and he drifts off to sleep. I look at his baby face and feel guilty I can't help him heal faster. But I know just how blessed I am to have him near, hearing him breathe and close enough to pet his hair.

Move forward.

I kiss his forehead and carry him to bed. He's getting so heavy but I cherish the fact that I can still hold him in my arms like a toddler, knowing these moments are numbered. He'll be 9 then 10 then I'll blink and he'll be graduating high school. I still wonder how anyone could so easily give up these numbered moments. Moments my son is still a little boy...but I'm learning not to care...I'm the lucky one. 

Because...

He hurt me with neglect, cruel words and violent outbursts. He broke things! He yelled and cried and threatened! He threw away everything good he had. He left the gifts that god had blessed him with, like we were old furniture. And I'm finally glad. She wanted my life. She thinks she took it! 

But, he left the best parts of him behind. 

I may backslide. It's the nature of this ugly destruction of family called divorce.

But for now...

I'm letting go and moving forward.

JYM

Covers

Kinda been letting my OCD get the better of me this week. But I'm not letting myself feel ashamed this time. I hope this will remind others to let themselves off the hook too.

Asleep on My Shoulder

This is a moment you can't get get back, if you miss it. When your son falls asleep next to you, with his head on your shoulder, it's a moment you don't rush to end even though you need to put him to bed if you are ever going to get a good nights sleep. It's a little thing but really it's the biggest. It's a thing you can't do by phone. And it's something you can't fit into a short visit, because it's just one of many small things. Little things that happen everyday that no photo or story will ever bring back to you, these are the rewards of being a parent. And such little things are more precious than any other thing in this world.

So I guess that's why I don't understand. I just really can't comprehend someone...choosing to miss them...

Sketching Life

I was literally sketching a face from memory...possibly of my crush. Yes I literally have the heart of a fifteen year old! Or maybe it's just my coping mechanism, to dream about someone I can't have. But I digress! I was looking at the rough scratches I had laid down and the words below just floated through my head.

When you're over a certain age, it's hard not to feel like major life changes start you back at the beginning. But really, all the choices we make, are sketches. We may have to erase some people, add others, find the color that makes our lives beautiful, but the outline will always be a part of us. Someday, we will see the whole picture...

By the Pound

Leave it Behind

Write 'til it hurts

Cry, shake, ache, want be...

Be who you are.

Love yourself through your 

self loathing.

Don't die inside, 

by letting the zombies of the world, eat at your pride.

You are valuable.

No dollar can define you,

no lover can mangle you, 

and the lack of either, 

shall not drown you.

Sleep like a sloth,

think in a mess...

Then

Get up, "head up...get to the other side," (A Friend).

Keep safe,

and leave self hate,

behind!

The Regretter

My son deserves More

No longer should he feel rejection

 that eats away at his 

                            Core.

But there is no protecting him 

From Disappointment  

Even if a mother's love is

                      Potent.

Love is not a potion, not a 

Cure-all that eases all Pain

Even if the lack of it can cause

His beautiful bright eyes to

                                   Rain.

All the happiness in my heart,

If it were possible, I'd give Him

But it won't erase the disappointment That has filled his heart to the

                                          Brim.

My little boy, my gorgeous child,

Has the most beautiful Soul

There is no burden I wouldn't carry,

To make his heart again 

                                    Whole.

Not because of Karma but,

Because my son is worth Better

The one who gives him less than 

He deserves, will forever be the

                                         Regretter 

Hope in Darkness

Deep inside, where no light reflects, but can only be produced from within,

Deep inside, beyond the pain, beyond what angers, beyond the betrayal, deep within its chambers, 

Deep inside, something shimmers, something quivers, something longing to get out. 

Deep inside, feel its heat. Let it spread, let it fill the cracks, mend the breaks and sooth the aches. 

Deep inside, is such a small light, but its powers are immense. 

Deep inside It glimmers and pain begins to lessen.

Deep inside it glows, making pride grow.

Deep inside it shines and loss is put to rest.

Deep inside, beneath the pieces, beneath the struggle, a faint light is urging the thrum to continue, 

Deep inside it is insisting the mangled form to beat, even when all you can see is darkness.

Deep inside, is why you will make it, 

Deep inside, this I know for sure, because...

Deep inside a broken heart lies a bit of hope. 

JYM

Scar

It's really just a scar now. Raised and a bit jagged because I did the stitching, but just an imperfection now. A reminder of the wound and the pain that forever altered me. Soft to the touch, a little sensitive but no more blood runs from it. I had worried it would make me less beautiful. Maybe it has in the eyes of some but the right eyes will see the beauty in my scar, and those eyes will never cause another...

Single Hockey Mom

My son has been playing hockey for two and a half years now. For a large portion of that I've been living the life of the single hockey mom. While all hockey parents understand most of the work that goes into having your child play hockey, experiencing it as a single parent is just a bit different.

I thought I would let the world in on some of the unique situations you find yourself in. And throw in some of my humble advice.

1. All money is counted in ice time and equipment.

Okay, unless you're extremely wealthy and even then, this sport is expensive. What is spent alone on
blade sharpening, stick tape and sock tape in a season of rec league hockey, could probably get you a whole season of Little League baseball or probably two seasons of AYSO soccer. 

If your child is in love with the sport and wants to play as much as possible (which they are because why on earth would choose this sport otherwise), you are taking them to extra clinics and even getting private lessons.

So, every time you are about to spend money, your mind thinks, that's a clinic, that's a skate lesson, that's a new helmet. And finally it thinks, no I don't really need new underwear (As if you had time for anyone one to see those anyway).

You go without all the time and people think you're crazy but really you're getting so much in return. Watching your child smile after only an hour before, he was crying about missing his dad, well you can't put a price on that.

2. Your pride goes out the window

You can't do everything yourself. The job is too big and costly. You'll borrow, you'll except charity and ask for help to the point of chills of guilt running down your spine, and your stomach churning from all of the pride you just swallowed. But, you'll do it, because it's not about you. It's not about what others think of you. It's about your little boy doing what he was meant to be doing.

It's about those times that you're stressing about asking for more help while your son shoots on his net in the garage. And he comes running in saying "Mom, come watch! I can go top shelf now!!"

3. Hot hockey coaches

You will be surrounded by eye candy, which sounds great in theory, but it's not. You are single and everyone knows that. So even though there will be married women that fawn and flirt, no one will care or suspect anything is going on, even if it is! 

Now there you are, constantly in contact with these young attractive men, that your kids love, but you have to be careful with how you act because rumors will spread like wildfire!! 

So a word of advice to new single hockey moms. When married women start drooling over that one coach's perfect rear end, don't join in! Unless you want people to think you're trading "favors" with that coach. 

4. Married Dad's

While there are many sweet and devoted married men around the rink, that are genuinely friendly, you still have to be careful. There will be those dad's that, something about you being single makes them forget that they are not. You have to play dumb quite a bit to avoid conflict. You're often left to wonder why these men don't foresee the atomic bomb of hate that would drop if you did not handle these situations gracefully. But you learn quick because no one wants to see that explosion.

...

I could probably go on but I feel the above are the biggest points that set apart the single hockey mom from the rest.

In regards to the different treatment I have to believe it is because there are not many single hockey moms, so we become exotic to everyone. Some are intrigued, some fear us, but there will be those few parents and coaches that are not prejudice and are true friends. So if you are a part of the rare breed called Single Hockey Mom, stick with those people that have shown you true compassion, they are your soul mates!!

It takes a different kind of child to play hockey, a different kind of person to be a hockey coach, a different kind of person to be a hockey parent, and an even more unique woman to be a single hockey mom. 

But I salute all those that dedicate themselves to the great sport of hockey! 

Go Ducks!!! 

JYM

Les Miserables - On My Own

All time favorite! I sound better in this vid but well I did it on a whim so I'm not cuted up. Hahah

But this is what single mom's do. The lyrics I mean. Because even if we find someone, they have to fit so many prerequisites, we have to be willing to spend time away from our children AND they have to want to be a part of the madness!!!

So this is the all the beautiful single moms who only can dream for now...

Drowning

Confusion, pain, despair, yearning. 

Mess, so much mess to clean up.

Wanting what I can't have, ignoring life rafts waiting for a ship heading in the wrong direction.

This is drowning.

Take a breath. You're strong enough to find the shore.

By 

JYM

Survivng Divorce

After nearly 2 years the judgment was signed about two weeks ago. It's official. I'm single.

The last year was hard, so many mixed feelings and anger. There is still plenty of anger but I never expected sadness when finally holding that decree in my hand, telling me it was done. 10 years, 10 months of marriage and 3 years of dating all undone with a simple signature and stamp.

I cried that day. I didn't know why. After all the disappointment I knew I did not want my ex-husband back in my life, my home, or my heart. So why was I sad?

I realized, that I, like my son, was mourning my little family that I had taken such pride and comfort in. My son snuggling between us saying he wanted hugs too! Family dinners. Family vacations. Struggling to make ends meet, but struggling together.

I'm now holding only two of the three pieces of my broken home. There are chips, so they don't always fit like they used to, causing new cracks. I pull out the glue and so carefully piece us together, only to have them ripped apart whenever the glue dries.

But I'm fighting, and I'm surviving! I'll always miss my little family but I'm loving my new smaller one.

I wonder if a third piece will ever fit together with us, but I love my new little family, with all its cracks and malformations; I do not need that piece so I will accept nothing but the perfect fit and am content if I never find it.

Just breathe

Don't cry my baby, Mama is always here. No space could come between my love for you. 

Don't cry my baby, you are safe. Your angels look after you and they cannot be overcome by greed. Don't cry my baby, you'll be with Mama soon. Don't cry my baby have fun and don't fear the moon. 

Sleep my baby, Mother Mary is with you. Sleep my baby my heart is with you too. 

Good night my baby. God bless you my baby. And sweet sweet dreams my baby.