First Quarter Reflection

Friday the 13th....one of those "cursed days." I can't think of a more perfect time to reflect on the crazy roller coaster I've been riding thus far in 2012:

• Day 1 of 2012 baby boy cracked his head open....and WHOA BOY it was a bleeder.
• Day 3 I walked into a house for sale, and knew it was "the one".
• Day 6 after getting my dad involved in said house, had an accepted purchase agreement
• Day 23 I began talking with 21
• Day 28 I jumped into a frozen lake
• Day 31 I closed on a great house, accomplishing a long standing goal of raising baby boy in a single family home, affording him the opportunity to play outside, ride his bike, and make friends with kids in the neighborhood (while simultaneously affording myself with the LUXURY of doing laundry without needed quarters).
• Day 35 I moved into said house
• Day 39 I turned 29....thus beginning my 1 year countdown towards the exit of my 20's (yikes)
• Day 41 I handed over the keys to my old apartment...it was truly a bittersweet moment
• Day 50 baby boy turned six

The past two and a half months since moving my house has been in complete disarray. I've been dealing with storage in my kitchen, copious amounts of dust, clutter, clutter, clutter (first world problems, right?!). I am so burnt out and ready to make my house my home. I'm ready to have things put in their place, to come home and feel as if I'm entering my sanctuary instead of a cluttered nightmare (again, first world problems, I digress).

The man hunt in 2012 has been...let's just say, interesting.

From a 21 year old to a 34 year old to a 37 year old. None of them have turned into anything that I want or I need. Not to sound snobby, but seriously what's up with that?! Sure, I broke my two year curse, and now can say I'm more of a slut today than I was two weeks ago...but the more time passes, the more I'm beginning to think I'm destined to be single, and the more the idea becomes alright with me. Bear in mind, there are pro's and con's to being single or in a relationship....the pro's to being single seem to be outweighing the cons.

My parental struggles with baby boy and school keep growing like a weed. He has a HUGE personality clash with his kindergarten teacher AND his gym teacher. I know I might sound like a mom that's in denial that her kid is sucking at life in school, but if you knew him, you'd know he really is a great kid. My heart breaks at the fact that he has to learn the life lesson of dealing with challenging personalities at such a young age, but it's a lesson that's undeniable, and completely necessary for him to get through (especially this year). I have insurmountable fears that this streak of misbehavior, dishonesty and his complete disdain for school will continue...here's to hoping my fears are misguided.

That's been my year thus far. I can't really decide if it's been as crazy as I'm making it out to be in my head, but I'm certainly thankful I have an opportunity to spew my thoughts and feelings in a safe environment.

The Curse of the Text Message

The text…..I loathe the text for multiple reasons, and when I share my initial disdain I’m greeted with nothing but gasps and odd looks. People have become dependent on the text, and I think that’s BS. Sure, I’ve been known to text here and there, but there’s so much MORE to be said about an actual conversation with someone, where non-verbal cues such as tone of voice play a large roll when you’re communicating your message.

I actually have a few specific reasons why I hate texting:

1. It’s completely impersonal

2. It’s WAY MORE distracting to others around you (specifically others you’re hanging out with) if you’ve got your nose in your phone and your thumbs moving a billion miles a minutes when the conversation you’re desperately trying to have with the person you’re texting could be over and done within three minutes

3. It’s way too damn immediate for comfort…no different than email really. You can spout off a message, be it cruel or kind, hit the send button and POOF! It’s out there, for the recipient to read and become extremely offended.

Let me elaborate a little more on the lovely reason number three….

People, it’s no secret (here) that there is man in my life I consider the one that got away (although, in looking back through my archives, trying to find a link to the stories of HIM, I came up empty…either I renamed him incredibly well, to the point that I can’t find my tales, or I refused to write about him, I digress…). To refresh your memory, I’ve known said man since I was a senior in high school. We have shared some AMAZING moments in the past ten+ years. Moments that included bar hopping in a small town, jumping in puddles, a couple of make-out sessions, and even a candle lit evening with a bubble bath (one of my most cherished memories, no joke).

I can’t put my thumb on it, but the timing for us NEVER SEEMED TO WORK. Be it we lived in hours apart, one of us was dating someone, then the roles would reverse, etc. etc. etc. It was almost as if karma was playing a cruel trick on my heart. Then, there was the time at the State Fair. The time when I was three months preggo (which, if you aren’t familiar, is a time when a girl looks like she has severe muffin top syndrome, but doesn’t quite look like she’s brewing a baby in her stomach) and at the fair with my ex-bf turned friend. He was there with a girlfriend….and when we ran into each other it was almost as if nobody else existed. Damn it was a great moment…but then we parted ways, and my continued to feel the pain from our poor timing.

Through the grace of god, Facebook was created…which not only gave me the opportunity to secretly (STALK) catch up on things going on in his life, but allowed me the platform to get together with him (although, at this point in my life, I was a single mom of an 18 month old…see? Poor timing).

He’s been engaged for a while now….set to get married this coming fall. I’m happy for him because I want him to be happy, but my stomach churns because we never had a chance to see if it would or wouldn’t have worked.

(stick with me people, I’m slowly but surely getting to my point)

Last night, his Facebook message was this: “I have the night off with nothing to do” so OF COURSE I COULDN’T HELP BUT PICK UP MY PHONE AND TEXT HIM (WHY PEOPLE?!?! WHY?!?!)

“I’m offended you didn’t call me since you had the night off”

…and so it began….a texting conversation that lasted about an hour. I wound up telling him most of what I had been bottling up inside of me for the past seven years. He told me he had wanted to try to date seven years ago….which broke my heart even more. I literally ugly cried while I typed out my feelings. It was really quite sad and pathetic….and nothing he wanted or needed to hear, rather something I needed to tell him. Perhaps I’ve told him these things in the past, but as his wedding date creeps near, I can’t control how upset the thought of things never actually happening between us make me.

I don’t regret the texting last night…but I’d be damned to say that conversation would’ve taken place before the text message existed.

My On-Going Conundrum

Here's something I've been struggling with for a handful of years now: The Single Girl's Conundrum.

What is this phenomenon, you ask? Well let me tell you. It's the phenomenon where married women are CONVINCED you're going to sleep with their husbands. It happens to me everywhere. I must secretively wear a bright flashing sign that reads "I'M A WHORE AND YES, I AM GOING TO SLEEP WITH YOUR HUSBAND" above my head that only married women can see (note: only the whore part of the sign is actually true, I digress).

Newsflash people: I've got morals. I'm NOT going to sleep with your husband (unless your husband is, in fact, Joe Mauer, in which case, all bets are off). I'm not even that attractive (which isn't a poor sad attempt to cut myself down....but the moment I compare myself to other women I begin to understand, physically speaking, why I'm single).

I'm not kidding when I say this happens to me everywhere. Work, outside of work, you name it.

So ladies, unwind your panties. Just because a SINGLE girl is nice to your husband, enjoys hanging out with him, and has semi-flirtatious fun with him, it doesn't mean she's going to bone him. I mean, really.

The Vortex

I find myself in a cyclic vortex of emotions when I make small attempts to satisfy my physical needs with a physical relationship. A vortex that, since becoming a parent, has made dating damn near impossible. A vortex that envelopes my emotions far too rapidly for my own mind to digest. A vortex that, at times, feels like it's suffocating me. A vortex that prevents me from being my true self.

When I escape the vortex I immediately feel equal parts of relief and disappointment. Perhaps someday this vortex of emotions will feel easy, and spin me in the direction of companionship. Perhaps someday I'll find solace in the daily happenings of my life, and won't feel inclined to enter the vortex again. Perhaps one day, the vortex will sweep me up and spit me out again.

Life, for me, feels 98% unpredictable. I've been alright with the unpredictability, but I certainly need to practice breathing, relaxation, and focusing on my true self the next time the vortex sucks me in.

He Came (and I simultaneously won Mom Of The Year)

The touch and feel of a man can be absolutely intoxicating. Strong hands that will envelope you, make you feel safe and sexy, all at the same time. To me, the touch of a man is something I go to bed dreaming about.

He finally came over, late at night. I answered the door in skimpy nightie. He came in, and I'd be lying if I said the first five minutes weren't a little awkward.

His voice was deep. His smile was nice. His facial expressions were hilarious. After the first five minutes passed, the conversation in my kitchen seemed very smooth. Almost effortless. Almost. There was a rather large white elephant in the room. See, we had spent the past two weeks texting about sleeping with each other. At the risk of borrowing a plot straight out of Hollywood, we were planning to use one another for one thing; Sex.

After about an hour, the Heidi Fleiss inside of me made my move, "I was in a minor fender bender in January, and my back is killing me...Would you give me a massage?" He obliged. To feel his weight on top of mine left me feeling extremely vulnerable. His ass was literally hot (which made me giggle a little, I digress). The strength of his hands forced my mind to wander. After a while I found myself in his arms. It was comfortable. It was what I had been craving for a long time.

The time was melting away, and before we both knew it, it was 2:30 in the morning. We were both falling asleep. We had both melted into one another. He was ten minutes away from leaving when he rolled on top of me, and we had our first kiss. His lips were perfect. His touch was just as I imagined it to be, intoxicating.......but he couldn't stay, even if he wanted to because it wouldn't be fair to baby boy to awake to a strange man in Mommy's bed.

I don't pride myself on too many things in life, but one thing I will stand steadfast by is the fact that I am very guarded about who I introduce into baby boy's life. I'm a bit of a mama bear when it comes to what I expose him to. I am honest with him, but there are certain things that are damn near impossible to explain to a little man...like, when he abruptly walks into mommy's room at 3am and finds a (fully clothed) man on top of mommy (yeah, I'm totally getting mom of the year award for this one).

He quickly rolled off of me, and hid next to my bed. I quickly got up, swooped up baby boy, and brought him back to bed. He asked "mommy, who was that guy?" and my heart skipped a beat. What have I done? Have I damaged my baby boy? Is he going to think ill of mommy, because mommy was being selfish and looking to fill a void that has been present in mommy's heart for a loooooooooong time? He's too little to understand, so it's almost a waste of breath for me to try to explain anything to him.

The man in my room was equally freaked out by the situation. I had been honest, and told him he couldn't stay because there was a possibility my baby boy would walk into my room and want to sleep next to mommy. When he left, there was no kiss goodbye, which reminded me this was not about romance, rather, two consensual adults fulfilling voids that had been present in their lives for far too long.

Adventure Update....

He cancelled on me. I should've expected it from the get go (in fact, a little part of me wasn't surprised in the least).

"I don't feel well" blah blah blah.

No harm, no foul. At least I didn't break my back to line a sitter up just to have him cancel at the last minute...cuz that would've sucked (I honestly thought about linking to all of the times in the past I've written about when the guy has cancelled, but I'm too lazy for that today...I'll blame it on the rain).

Choose My Adventure

Here I sit; 29 (less than 11 months until I'm 30), single, a parent, employed and a student.

I haven't had sex in over two years (730+ days).

I can say (with a huge smile on my face) that I have kissed a man in 2012 (although, some might argue he was only a "baby" since he was the ripe old age of 20, I digress).

Peeps, I'm ancy as hell.

Do I want a relationship? Sure.

Do I NEED a relationship? Hell no. I don't have time.

Do I want to have a wild crazy session in the bedroom? Hells yes.

Do I think I can have such a thing without "over-thinking things" and becoming the stereotypical "irrational girl"? The jury is still out on that one.

On the bright side, I have an opportunity to see if I can break my current streak of living a sexless life (SCANDALOUS, GASP!). There's a guy I've been speaking with. I've known him for about 8 years (we met through softball). We've hung out once a few years back, and in that time he acted as if he needed to stay AT LEAST 10 feet away from me (perplexing, especially since we had done a LOT of email flirting prior to hanging out, I digress).

He's attractive, single, and a huge goof ball (a trait that is almost a MUST if you're going to hang around me).

I'm 99% certain he's coming over on Monday night after baby boy is in bed. So, internet, I ask you to choose how I act when he comes over.

• Do I shove my tongue down his throat the second I open the door to break the ice?
• Do I answer the door in some skimpy lingerie?
• Do I just play it cool and make him make a move?

Not to sway any of you out there (if there ARE any of you out there...) but as a disclaimer, I want to have fun. I want to have balls to the wall, semi-scandalous fun.

What adventure will you choose for me? I'm all eyes.