Paris

I know many people, including my close friends and my own mother, were anxiously awaiting my return home from Paris if only to learn whether or not my left ring finger was a bit heavier than when I left.

I will admit to having wondered the same thing.

It seemed too perfect. I didn't think anything of the trip until friends began raising an eyebrow at the perfection, the timing (our 1 year anniversary), and the state of our relationship at this point.

He told me he wasn't proposing. That he wasn't quite ready yet. He told my friends this. They told me. I thought I was going on this trip completely prepared with zero expectations.

Until there we were, the way I had always pictured it. Bottle of wine, standing alone in a park under the sparkling Eiffel Tower at dusk. Holding hands and looking into each other's eyes. God, I just *knew* this was the moment. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak.

I know he felt my anticipation, because then he held me close, told me that someday soon, he would be dropping to his knee and asking me to marry him. But that it was just not right yet. There is more work to be done with the kids, with us. I know this to be true in my head. I KNOW THIS. But I got caught up in the moment and let my fairytale emotions take over. I couldn't help it. I started to cry and couldn't stop. Talk about ruining the moment...

Me. The woman who swore to never marry ever again. Miss Independent Who Shall Never Rely On A Man.

He has made me understand the true meaning of what it is to be married. Of why anyone would want to. I want to call him my husband and for my children to have him as their role model. I want to be his wife. I don't need him, I could live the rest of my life alone and support myself and the kids and be just fine. But I want that life, with him. He changed that.

But the most important thing is that he is here in my life right now, and I need to get back to living in the present moment. Stop putting time lines on things and just enjoy what we have together, both as a couple and now as a family with the kids.

Paris was amazing. We spent seven days wandering around from museum to museum, restaurant to restaurant, garden to garden. We napped together in the garden outside the Louvre. We drank wine and people watched on the Champs Elysee. We picnicked at Versailles. We ate crepes at midnight strolling the streets of St. Michel. We kissed on the Metro. We snuggled under the Eiffel Tower as it sparkled in our eyes. We plotted ways to move the kids there and make Paris our home.

I'm very, very happy. And that's all that matters.

Hi There

I'm here, I'm alive, I'm CRAZED.

We just got back from our two week vacation extravaganza. First to Florida with 3 other families all in one beach house, and then to a lakehouse with 4 other families. Mr. Wonderful came along on both.

We laughed, we cried, we drove each other crazy, we bonded, and just generally "tried on" family life.

It wasn't perfect. With so many other families and kids around, there were lots of distractions. But it felt so good to have Mr. Wonderful there with me each morning and night. I forgot what it was like to have help, an extra set of hands. I got a little too spoiled. The transition back to single mom has been tough.

But he was amazing with the kids, all of them, not just mine. They all adored him and he fit right in like a pro.

Funny thing is that last year, it was the night before this same annual Lakehouse trip that I met Mr. Wonderful. We exchanged our first texts on the drive down, and I giggled incessantly to my friends about this great guy I had just met who was now planning an elaborate first date for after we got back. One of my friends teased me "Next year, you'll have him with you. Just watch." I cracked up, rolled my eyes, and said NO WAY.

Ahem.

This weekend we'll return to the same music festival we met at to celebrate our 1 year anniversary, and then....

Next week, we leave for Paris, just the two of us. I CANNOT WAIT.

Life is good.

Who's big idea was this summertime thing anyways.

Thought I'd stop by and leave an update or two on my life these days. Things are so busy and I absolutely hate not being able to write.

School let out and I suddenly found myself with all three kids all day long with no break, no freedom or flexibility that I am used to (that already isn't enough to get it all done). I honestly wasn't sure we'd all make it out alive the first week. At nighttime, I could still hear their little voices ringing in my ears "We're BORED! Can we go _____ (insert place that costs money or activity that involves me leaving my work)".

And then today I overheard my 3 year old playing dolls. One doll was telling the other that she couldn't play because "she had to work". Ouch.

And then later on today after my son tried to guilt trip me for the millionth time about not going out to eat, I had to actually sit him down with a calculator and show him how income and bills work and how little we have left after all is said and done. 'Twas fun.

I miss the summers of taking the kids to the pool every other day, going on summertime adventures, and eating popsicles in the front yard. But the restraints of single motherhood are choking all of us right now. I miss my babysitters, my assistants, my crazy nanny who used to insult me but also did all of my laundry (WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE TO HAVE HER BACK).

On the brightside, to combat the boredom, my daughter has begun to enjoy reading chapter books in her room, my son is attending football camp, and my youngest continues to terrorize me. And the house. (As I type my son tells me she has written on the wall. Again.) All three have watched hundreds of episodes of iCarly and SpongeBob (God help me, I hear "Who lives in a pineapple under the sea" in my nightmares) and for right now, that is just going to have to be ok.

Back to work.

Happiness is...

One of my friends sent us a list of 100 things that make her happy, an assignment given by a therapist. Reading through her list made *me* happy, so I thought I'd give it a shot here.

1. Kisses from my babies
2. Listening to my 3 year old sing
3. the sound of a text message coming in on my iphone
4. having a client sincerely thank me for my work
5. the sound my camera makes when I take a picture
6. my neighborhood with all of it's gorgeous trees and greenery
7. Watching my 7 year old dance joyfully to her favorite song
8. Seeing my son dance like Michael Jackson
9. the feeling after an awesome workout
10. the hot shower after an awesome workout
11. getting dressed up with full hair and makeup
12. cheesy pop music that reminds me of my childhood
13. seeing an amazing band sing the songs I love live
14. the relaxed feeling after a glass of wine
15. seeing my two youngest follow their brother around like ducklings
16. cooking a meal for my sweetheart and him loving it
17. seeing Mr. W's sideways smile
18. Mr. W's arm around me or a kiss on my forehead
19. watching my baby take Mr. W's hand or reach for him to hold her
20. laughing with my friends
21. seeing my body morph into that of an athlete
22. peanut butter and chocolate anything
23. getting onto an airplane knowing I'm about to experience something totally new
24. traveling with Mr. W, anywhere
25. showing my kids something they've never seen before and the looks of amazement on their faces
26. being a single mom and owning this house on my own
27. thinking of a great gift for someone
28. hanging out with my brother and my sister in law
29. singing along to Michael Jackson songs with my kids in the car
30. seeing a really great movie, especially one that makes me cry
31. reading a book so good I can't put it down and finish it in days
32. getting a pedicure
33. massage
34. play fighting with Mr. W
35. the look on Mr. W's face when he's impressed with me
36. falling in love with an album and listening to it non-stop
37. Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper
38. pizza
39. curling up on my couch and watching tv, snuggled up in a blanket
40. taking myself out to eat alone and seeing a movie alone
41. the fact that all 3 kids still call me Mommy
42. a quiet house
43. waking up and seeing Mr. W smiling at me
44. the sound of the ocean waves
45. an amazing restaurant experience, with great food and atmosphere
46. making my Dad happy by visiting him
47. lunch with my Mom
48. going for a run in the rain
49. watching my kids' sports games
50. baking at Christmas
51. watching the Macy's Thanksgiving parade with my kids
52. walking through Central Park anytime, but especially in the fall
53. Fifth Avenue at Christmas at nighttime
54. having people ask me for directions in NYC and being able to tell them
55. learning French
56. the smell of baking bread
57. making a snowman with Mr. W
58. rollercoasters
59. singing
60. having a close network of girlfriends who have my back and who I can go to for anything, anytime
61. knowing that I have met my soulmate
62. liking the way I look
63. liking who I am
64. admiring who my kids are becoming
65. Lakehouse
66. hot yoga
67. my baby making up stories
68. my baby's funny faces
69. taking the kids to see Santa
70. knowing I can do this on my own
71. sleeping late
72. making a new friend
73. reconnecting with an old friend
74. riding the subway and knowing what I'm doing
75. GNO's
76. dancing
77. Buzzbrews
78. Epic nights out with Amy
79. laughing til my sides hurt
80. my bedroom, especially my comforter
81. bookstores
82. a new haircut or color
83. wearing a new outfit
84. pictures of me and my friends, me and my kids, me and Mr. W
85. watching football
86. Fall evenings
87. Mr. W's car
88. my house after the housekeeper leaves
89. playing soccer with the kids
90. taking the kids to the pool all day long
91. doing my own yardwork
92. knowing that I have the power to change pretty much anything for the better
93. running the Brooklyn Bridge
94. running a 5K
95. going to baseball games
96. popcorn at the movies
97. The State Fair
98. the F word
99. driving with the sunroof open on a beautiful day
100. staying out all night and feeling like I made the most of every moment of the night

Honestly I could do a hundred more...loved this!!!!

War Wounds Reopened

Sometimes it feels like it's been a million years, another lifetime, since I was married to my husband.

And then something happens and the pain feels as if it all went down yesterday.

One of my closest friends discovered a couple of weeks ago that her husband had been unfaithful to her over the course of their marriage. This couple is part of my innermost circle of friends, and I love them both.

I wanted to blog about it when it happened, but I just couldn't. Actually, when I found out, I couldn't do much of anything. I tensed up so much over the next couple of days, that my back actually went out and I was stuck in bed. My stomach was sick. I'd love to tell you that I'm that great of a friend, but in reality, it was like reliving my entire "atom bomb" all over again but with a muffled scream instead of a voice.

Today my stepfather had a major surgery at the same hospital that my father had his brain tumor removed and then subsequently spent the next half a year at trying to recover from it. I could not make myself go, even though I knew how much my mother probably needed me there. I have panic attacks just driving by that hospital, I can't imagine ever setting foot in it again. But my brother went for the both of us. He struggled just parking in the parking garage; the garage where we would aimlessly search for our cars after horrible news and devastation. Then he had to walk into the same surgery waiting area that we had spent that fateful day waiting for Dad to come out of surgery, the one where the doctor came out and told us our father would never be the same. It was the little details that got to him, things he forgot, that triggered panic attacks. He sent me a picture of a computer screen where you watch your loved one's surgery progress, and I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. It was this screen we stared at helplessly when he did not come out of surgery after the 5 hours we were promised, but 12. Re-living all of those little horrors....I don't know how he did that.

But this is exactly how it feels to watch my friend go through this in her marriage. She tells us things he has said, things I've heard before. She feels torn, like she wants to kill him but yet loves him and wants to help him. Things I've felt before. It was so disturbing to me and brought up so many of those feelings again that I spent the majority of my couples counseling session in tears over it. I was angry all over again and felt so outraged and hurt, and I couldn't let go.

And tonight I'm writing about this because I decided for some reason to read my private blog I kept in the months after I kicked my ex out. The pain in those unfiltered words is so pungent and profound. I look back at that time...a time when I was forced into doing this job of motherhood all by myself, running my business all by myself, and somehow doing it all while feeling like I was going to die. How did I even do it? I don't even remember that period that well. I remember little moments, like sobbing in my closet, physically shaking constantly from anxiety, not being able to eat or sleep....God how did I get through this?

All I did was put one foot in front of the other, and each day tried to do it a little better than the day before. I was not always graceful, I was not always smart. I drank a lot of vodka and took plenty of Xanax. I slept when I should have been watching my children or working. I obsessed over my ex. I secluded myself and didn't let anyone help me. I would blow up over nothing. It was not a pretty time.

But here I am now. The happiest I've EVER been in my life. I'm physically, emotionally, and mentally the healthiest I've ever been. I love everything about my life and am so glad that I went through that pain, if it means I am able to be where I am today. I feel lucky to have gone through a situation that catalyzed growth and enlightenment for me. My therapist pointed these things out to me, and reminded me of something very important:

I wouldn't change a thing.

I hope that no matter what happens with my friend's marriage, that the same will happen for her. Actually, I already see it happening and I'm very optimistic for her. It sucks that it seems to take such dark times to wake us up to our truths, but sometimes it just does.

I Need To Remember

I was once 22 and already a wife and mother, while my friends were single, partying, finishing college, and at a totally different place in life than me. One by one I watched them fall to the wayside as we had less and less in common. What I learned: the good ones came back when we were back in the same place. And not only did they come back, they apologized for leaving in the first place. The others? I don't miss.

I need to remember that it has taken me 11 years to adjust to the absolute craziness of being a parent, and I did it one child at a time. Each baby step was hard, but it was a natural process that developed gracefully over time.

I need to remember that I lost myself to parenthood and marriage. I forgot that I loved music and exercise and friends and laughter, and that I was full of anger and rage and resentment most of the time, and didn't understand why until I found myself again through the divorce. Finding myself again and holding onto it was the most important thing I ever did for myself and everyone around me, and is what I now want for those around me whom I love, more than anything.

I need to remember that even after 3 kids and 11 years of parenthood, I am still completely and utterly overwhelmed by schedules and functions and planning and providing and balancing. As a VETERAN.

I need to remember how hard it is to look at my life and realize that as a parent, I cannot do all that I want to do and please everyone around me.

Because my sweetheart has only a few months experience with it. And as great of a job as I think I did with the transitions over the years, he is showing me how it's done. I am so proud to call him my man, and we are so lucky to have him in our lives. Someone who cares so much about the people in his life-that is hard to come by.

Imagine going from having no children to three, from having the same lifestyle as your friends to completely the opposite, having the pressure to bond and nurture a relationship with your three possibly future stepchildren. He's doing it like a pro with class and love and I am so very proud of him.

The Cool Girl

When I was 12 years old, I had a friend whose boyfriend was in high school. Being middle schoolers ourselves, this made us SUPER cool. We would go hang out at one of his friend's houses, also a high school student, who lived with his father.

The father was a middle aged man who lived with his son in a nice neighborhood near my school. We loved to hang out there because the father let all the kids drink, smoke, curse, and even supplied some of them with drugs.

Another thing he supplied an endless amount of was porn. There was a tv in the backroom that was constantly playing a porn video. You have to understand, I was so young that at this point in my life, my parents had only told me that sex was a man and a woman lying close together. Imagine my shock when I walked in that back room and saw what I saw. This, pornography, was how I learned about sex.

Sometimes my friend would disappear with her boyfriend for awhile, and I would be left alone on the couch. Little bad ass 12 year old me, sipping on my wine cooler and trying not to let on that I didn't know how to smoke the cigarette in my hand. At some point, the father at the house took an interest in me. He'd sit next to me and ask me about boys. He didn't talk like a normal dad, he was cool and never asked about homework or school or parents. Nope, just wanted to know about boys. Which ones I liked, if I liked to be kissed. Many times when these conversations started, the son, who was a few years older than me, would come "rescue" me and usher me off to another room. I never understood why, just thought at the time that he had some sort of crush on me or was embarrassed by his father (which OMG why?? He's so cool!)

And then one day, the father sat right next to me on the sofa and put his arm around me. His hand was on my shoulder as he asked me about boys and girls and what goes on at school. I suddenly realize that his hand has slipped down on top of my breast, but he is still talking , and I am absolutely positive that he doesn't realize it. I'm too scared to tell him about it because it will embarrass us both. I figure eventually it will move on it's own. Then, as suspected, he does realize it. "Wow, look at that!! My hand was on your boobie that whole time, and you didn't even move it. Wow! ha ha ha, you're such a cool girl!!" To prove that I'm a cool girl, he went ahead and actually grabbed it, and what can I say at that point, because I want to be liked and would never want to be banished from this house. I laugh it off, stand up, and walk away, completely unsure of what has just happened. I never told anyone.

I avoided the father at all costs every time I was there from then on, but instances like this occurred many times over the time I spent there. Finally other girls began coming over and he seemed to lose interest in me.

I didn't think about what had happened and somewhat blocked it from my mind, until one day we were at his house and he wasn't there. When i asked where he was, the son informs me that he has been arrested. One of the other girls was undergoing the same situation with him, and had gone forward to her parents, who called the police. The mood in the house was outrage. Everyone was angry at the molested girl for turning Dad in to the police. That was just messing with someone's life, no matter what he did to her, and she must have wanted it anyways because she kept coming over here, she could have just said no thanks.

As an adult, the repercussions of those few months as a pre-teen affect my life every single day. Although I have tried intense therapy for the effects of the abuse I received, and I have made some progress, I have somewhat given up ever being "normal". He robbed that from me, back when I was just a child. Because of him, everytime I have had sex, every single time, since I became sexually active, I enter a period of panic and black-hole like neediness. I can't shake the feeling that I have just been used, abused, degraded, and dismissed as a person. Because of him, when I try and discuss sex or what happened to me, I glaze over and my mind wanders. My protective instincts kick in and I numb out. Just while typing this blog post, I've stopped multiple times and forgotten what I was even writing about. That survival skill that kept me sane as an abused child just won't go away.

Sometimes it's manageable. Sometimes it's so bad that I have to just shut down and wait for it to pass. I cry, I want to be held tight like a child, I want to feel accepted and loved and safe, but most of the time I just can't. All I can do is apologize to the one I'm with and hope that he understands.

Let's face it. It's not easy to understand. I don't always. It gets old, to me and to my partner. I try to put on a brave face and hide it as much as possible. But sometimes, it is so overwhelming, that it takes over for days at a time. I slip into a needy depression. I shut down because it's easier than explaining again. I hold back tears and blow up at odd things.

I hate it.

Because really, who wants to have sex with someone when you know that afterwards they're going to act like that???

I found out recently through Facebook of all things that my molestor passed away several years ago. I can't say in my life that I have ever been happy to hear of someone's death. But for some reason, the world felt a little safer to me the second I heard it.