Well, if you were anywhere in the general vicinity of Texas today, you probably heard the battle between my middle schooler and me. It was loud. And ugly. There was yelling and screaming and paper ripping and drooling and gagging and tons of crying.
And I just stared at him, making a fool of himself, not even wanting to laugh (which is abnormal) because I was so horrified at this massive hissy fit I was witnessing.
A little over a week ago, his math class was given an assignment. The assignment was to make a creative book of vocabulary words. There were 20 words and she wanted them to make it neat and creative. Sounds easy, right? Well...N got it into his head that he had over two weeks to work on it, so when he came home from school today, he admitted to having yet another late assignment, and when he told me it was the vocabulary book, I got pissed.
I reminded him when it was due no less than three times, when I got email reminders. He gets the same reminders. So, he zipped through it, pleased with his work. He was less than pleased when I told him he was going to redo it. He was missing one of the words, and kept getting so frustrated with me because I was calling them "terms" not "vocab words." Um, newsflash. Same. Thing.
We went round and round, and I finally got this beast that didn't even resemble my child to email his teacher. Only I thought he might break the computer with all of the anger radiating through his body, so I told him to tell me what to type. She responded within the hour, and by that time, I had set him up with a new vocabulary book.
Oh, I also fed him. It turns out kids turn into mutant zombies who hate the world if they're starving within an inch of their lives. Nevermind the whole "snack after school" thing. That's strictly for amateurs.
He shot me the dirtiest looks imaginable as he re-wrote his vocabulary words, three to a page, complete with examples...you know, to make it creative. I'm not a miracle worker, okay? He finished, and begged to go to bed. The time? 7:55. And that's when I felt his forehead to make sure he wasn't sick.
He never acts this way...ever. Unless he's sick. And I can count the number of times he's been sick on one hand. I just knocked on every wooden surface in my living room, thank you very much.
Anyway, just in case you were wondering what the ruckus was all about, from Dallas to the panhandle, to the extreme Southern tip of Texas...it was just me and N...and I was just reminding him that moms totally hold all of the power to make kids redo assignments just because they can. And will. Especially when a lesson is to be learned.
Aubs
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
And the fun continues
I don't know...maybe I slept wrong last night, but this morning, I woke up in even more pain than before. Add to that the fact that I'm stubborn and refuse to slow down, and that's probably one of the (many) reasons why I haven't recovered from this apparent injury. It has to be a pulled muscle, and that sucks because that means I have to be getting old. Boo!
Anyway, this morning was just awful, and this morning just so happened to be one of the mornings that I work, which requires some mild lifting and lots of abdominal/torso moving. Super! I popped some extra-strength Advil and went on about my business. And, honestly, it wasn't too bad. Five hours did feel like 5 million, but I had a little bit of downtime during the day, so I got to sit and relax a little. You know...until I got bored. It's funny. I have no problem sitting around, being bored at my apartment, but almost anywhere else? Nope. I can't do it.
I came home from work and plopped on the couch with my buddy, the heating pad. I was out like a light in less than 10 minutes. I heard N come in the door after school (B's at his dad's this week), and in my dream-like state, I heard him talking about the computer (he swears this never happened) and listening to Eminem (which he guiltily admitted DID happen), and then he asked me if he could go to the park to play football. And that's when I snapped back to reality and realized I'd been asleep for an hour and a half and it was almost time for baseball practice, and oh crap...I still need to go to the grocery store.
We went to baseball practice, where I tried to get comfortable without screeching in pain (not an easy feat), and it didn't help that N was in a terrible mood. He was catching in the batting cages, and got hit with the bat. He acted like a pill for the rest of the evening, except for when he was showing off his fantastic bruise from last weekend's game. There's a huge marbled bruise on his upper arm. It's a beauty. Anyway, after practice, we ran one of the other boys home, and then he accompanied me to Target for groceries.
He wasn't thrilled about this, however, he needed body wash and shampoo, and that's how I "got" him. It wasn't a long trip, by any stretch of the imagination, but by the time we got home, we were both ready to veg. We ate dinner, watched a little baseball (the Rangers FINALLY snapped their losing streak!), and he headed off to bed, on his own, earlier than normal.
I'm wondering if he's getting sick. I can't remember the last time he volunteered to go to bed before the scheduled bedtime...
Aubs
Anyway, this morning was just awful, and this morning just so happened to be one of the mornings that I work, which requires some mild lifting and lots of abdominal/torso moving. Super! I popped some extra-strength Advil and went on about my business. And, honestly, it wasn't too bad. Five hours did feel like 5 million, but I had a little bit of downtime during the day, so I got to sit and relax a little. You know...until I got bored. It's funny. I have no problem sitting around, being bored at my apartment, but almost anywhere else? Nope. I can't do it.
I came home from work and plopped on the couch with my buddy, the heating pad. I was out like a light in less than 10 minutes. I heard N come in the door after school (B's at his dad's this week), and in my dream-like state, I heard him talking about the computer (he swears this never happened) and listening to Eminem (which he guiltily admitted DID happen), and then he asked me if he could go to the park to play football. And that's when I snapped back to reality and realized I'd been asleep for an hour and a half and it was almost time for baseball practice, and oh crap...I still need to go to the grocery store.
We went to baseball practice, where I tried to get comfortable without screeching in pain (not an easy feat), and it didn't help that N was in a terrible mood. He was catching in the batting cages, and got hit with the bat. He acted like a pill for the rest of the evening, except for when he was showing off his fantastic bruise from last weekend's game. There's a huge marbled bruise on his upper arm. It's a beauty. Anyway, after practice, we ran one of the other boys home, and then he accompanied me to Target for groceries.
He wasn't thrilled about this, however, he needed body wash and shampoo, and that's how I "got" him. It wasn't a long trip, by any stretch of the imagination, but by the time we got home, we were both ready to veg. We ate dinner, watched a little baseball (the Rangers FINALLY snapped their losing streak!), and he headed off to bed, on his own, earlier than normal.
I'm wondering if he's getting sick. I can't remember the last time he volunteered to go to bed before the scheduled bedtime...
Aubs
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
9 hours
One of my classes started today...a math class, one of the four classes I need to graduate this spring. It is an online class, thanks to the greatness of scheduling conflicts, and math is not my favorite subject of all time. I decided to jump in with a decent attitude and see what happened.
I took the morning to get as enthusiastic as possible. Okay, who am I kidding? I took a nap. With my pulled muscle or whatever, I haven't been sleeping well, and the couch has been the most restful spot thus far. Who knew? Anyway, I geared up for the class around lunchtime, and was still hard at work at 3:10 when B walked in the front door.
Long (boring) story, short? I did homework in that class for nine hours. Nine. As in, one more than eight. As in, probably four more hours than I tend to sleep at night. In the introductory email(s), the professor said we should expect to spend at least nine hours a week working on this class. My question is, if I do nine hours in one day, I'm good, right?
I have so many deadlines this week, and I'm trying to prioritize them a little bit. It's proving to be difficult, and even though I have three days a week to devote to my classes, it's still hard to get it all done. I'm somewhat concerned about how it will be when the next class starts in a couple of weeks. Staggering is a great idea in theory, but it's also great(er) when the end dates are staggered as well. In this case, they are not.
So, I'm off to recline on a heat pack, because I seem to get better results with heat, although, at this point, I'd be so happy to be able to take a normal, semi-deep breath. I'd love to yawn or cough or even hiccup without feeling like a jillion knives are stabbing me in between my ribs.
This is the most fun ever! Except...not.
Aubs
I took the morning to get as enthusiastic as possible. Okay, who am I kidding? I took a nap. With my pulled muscle or whatever, I haven't been sleeping well, and the couch has been the most restful spot thus far. Who knew? Anyway, I geared up for the class around lunchtime, and was still hard at work at 3:10 when B walked in the front door.
Long (boring) story, short? I did homework in that class for nine hours. Nine. As in, one more than eight. As in, probably four more hours than I tend to sleep at night. In the introductory email(s), the professor said we should expect to spend at least nine hours a week working on this class. My question is, if I do nine hours in one day, I'm good, right?
I have so many deadlines this week, and I'm trying to prioritize them a little bit. It's proving to be difficult, and even though I have three days a week to devote to my classes, it's still hard to get it all done. I'm somewhat concerned about how it will be when the next class starts in a couple of weeks. Staggering is a great idea in theory, but it's also great(er) when the end dates are staggered as well. In this case, they are not.
So, I'm off to recline on a heat pack, because I seem to get better results with heat, although, at this point, I'd be so happy to be able to take a normal, semi-deep breath. I'd love to yawn or cough or even hiccup without feeling like a jillion knives are stabbing me in between my ribs.
This is the most fun ever! Except...not.
Aubs
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Just...ow.
I've never broken a bone or even come close (knock on wood), but I swear it feels like I've cracked a rib or two, and I have no idea how I could've done it. I haven't done anything remotely damaging, and yet, it hurts every single time I try to take anything deeper than a shallow breath on the left side.
It's so fantastic.
B and I spent the day watching movies and hanging out. He's sticking around for an extra day since his dad wants to keep him for an extra day next week because they're taking him to a Cowboys game. He asked me every 5 minutes when N was going to come home, and when he finally did, they started fighting. I could've opened a bottle of wine (I sure thought about it), but I stayed strong and had a quick chat with my cousin while they ate a really random assortment of breakfast items for dinner. B opted for cinnamon Eggo waffles and sausage links, while N required more effort with his scrambled eggs (with cheese) and sausage links.
Then, I got a text from my mom, saying she was bringing over the computer her friend has been cleaning up for the boys to use. With all of my classes online this semester, N's school being all technology-driven, and B having daily online homework as well, it was just NOT working for all of us to use my laptop...especially since we all seemed to need it simultaneously.
Up next: a different monitor (this one is a huge box and is a tight fit on the desk) and speakers...because it's hard to watch videos for school without sound. I'm so thrilled that they have their own computer and their own space to use it (complete with parental controls), and I'm so grateful that my mom was able to give them her old desktop.
Side note: My nails are getting so long that it's uncomfortable to type.
I know. That's breaking news.
It's 9:36, and I'm stinking exhausted already...and why? I haven't done anything all day long.
I really hope I break out of this funk at some point...sooner rather than later would be preferable.
Aubs
It's so fantastic.
B and I spent the day watching movies and hanging out. He's sticking around for an extra day since his dad wants to keep him for an extra day next week because they're taking him to a Cowboys game. He asked me every 5 minutes when N was going to come home, and when he finally did, they started fighting. I could've opened a bottle of wine (I sure thought about it), but I stayed strong and had a quick chat with my cousin while they ate a really random assortment of breakfast items for dinner. B opted for cinnamon Eggo waffles and sausage links, while N required more effort with his scrambled eggs (with cheese) and sausage links.
Then, I got a text from my mom, saying she was bringing over the computer her friend has been cleaning up for the boys to use. With all of my classes online this semester, N's school being all technology-driven, and B having daily online homework as well, it was just NOT working for all of us to use my laptop...especially since we all seemed to need it simultaneously.
Up next: a different monitor (this one is a huge box and is a tight fit on the desk) and speakers...because it's hard to watch videos for school without sound. I'm so thrilled that they have their own computer and their own space to use it (complete with parental controls), and I'm so grateful that my mom was able to give them her old desktop.
Side note: My nails are getting so long that it's uncomfortable to type.
I know. That's breaking news.
It's 9:36, and I'm stinking exhausted already...and why? I haven't done anything all day long.
I really hope I break out of this funk at some point...sooner rather than later would be preferable.
Aubs
Yay, baseball!
It never fails...the night I send my kids off to sleep elsewhere, ALWAYS results in a much earlier morning than necessary. I was wide awake before 7 am, and that was not exactly what I had intended.
I mostly just tossed and turned for an hour or two, willing myself to go back to bed, but without success. I contemplated working on homework, but that was a no-go, too. At 10:00, I finally arranged to pick B up, and we spent the day together, just hanging out.
Around 3:00, we decided (okay, I decided) that we should go to Bath & Body Works because they were having their huge candle sale, and I'm on my last round of candles, which are mostly depleted. I think they're going to stay that way because...EW. Everything was pumpkin: Pumpkin Blueberry, Pumpkin Waffles, Carved Pumpkin, and so on.
I. Hate. Pumpkin. I don't eat it in pies or breads or muffins. I'll make 'em, but I won't eat 'em. I love the color, and I'll wear it even if it makes me look terrible, but I'm not a pumpkin eater. Gag.
Aside from that disheartening discovery, I've realized that B&BW no longer carries my favorite smell in stores, either. If I want any Cherry Blossom (the original, not Japanese Cherry Blossom), I have to order it online or see if I can score it on Ebay. When they do the semi-annual sale, I always stock up on Cherry Blossom, Honeysuckle, and Caribbean Escape soaps, because they're my favorite and hard to find. I wish I could like something more mainstream, but I dare to be different.
Anyway, after that fiasco was deemed a total failure, we went to Bed, Bath & Beyond to check out their candles. My dad always gets this candle that's "Merlot," and it smells fabulous. There's also one that comes in cherry blossom, but they were sold out. You know why? Because cherry blossom is the best. Ever. Grrrrrrrr.
After that, we went back home and packed up a cooler with some water and snacks because it was time for the Ironbirds (N's team this fall) to play the Tigers (our rivals, the Marlins, from last season). For "Fall Ball," the league combines age groups since there are usually less participants, so there are 4 teams with 11-13 players. They range in age from 10-12/13, depending on birthdays. Anyone who's 10 will be 11 before Spring Ball starts, so they'll play in the U11 league in the spring (like N, who just turned 11), but in the fall, they play U12. So complicated. The Tigers head coach coached N last fall when he was a Marlin, and this season, he has both of his sons on his team. That team is a powerhouse, y'all.
I got stuck keeping track of runs and outs, which is frustrating when you realize, "Oh crap! I'm supposed to be keeping up with balls and strikes." I'm hoping to get fired. N got nailed by a pitch when he was up to bat for the second time, right below his left shoulder. He had a nice bruise forming by the time the game was over. With the Marlins last season (and the Tigers this season, it seems) we never seemed to come alive until the 4th inning. This game was no exception. They were up, 8-0, until we scored 5 runs in the bottom of the 4th. They have a group of players who've been playing together for a long time. We have several who've never played ball before. We even had a boy cave under pressure on the mound and start crying because he couldn't get the ball over the plate...poor kid.
It was a fun game, anyway, and N is not being as serious, which I love...except he took it too far tonight and got all of the boys in the dugout repeating the stupid "Hump DAYYYYY!" commercial. You know the one...the camel walking through the office? Ugh.
I wish he had a "mute" button sometimes.
Aubs
I mostly just tossed and turned for an hour or two, willing myself to go back to bed, but without success. I contemplated working on homework, but that was a no-go, too. At 10:00, I finally arranged to pick B up, and we spent the day together, just hanging out.
Around 3:00, we decided (okay, I decided) that we should go to Bath & Body Works because they were having their huge candle sale, and I'm on my last round of candles, which are mostly depleted. I think they're going to stay that way because...EW. Everything was pumpkin: Pumpkin Blueberry, Pumpkin Waffles, Carved Pumpkin, and so on.
I. Hate. Pumpkin. I don't eat it in pies or breads or muffins. I'll make 'em, but I won't eat 'em. I love the color, and I'll wear it even if it makes me look terrible, but I'm not a pumpkin eater. Gag.
Aside from that disheartening discovery, I've realized that B&BW no longer carries my favorite smell in stores, either. If I want any Cherry Blossom (the original, not Japanese Cherry Blossom), I have to order it online or see if I can score it on Ebay. When they do the semi-annual sale, I always stock up on Cherry Blossom, Honeysuckle, and Caribbean Escape soaps, because they're my favorite and hard to find. I wish I could like something more mainstream, but I dare to be different.
Anyway, after that fiasco was deemed a total failure, we went to Bed, Bath & Beyond to check out their candles. My dad always gets this candle that's "Merlot," and it smells fabulous. There's also one that comes in cherry blossom, but they were sold out. You know why? Because cherry blossom is the best. Ever. Grrrrrrrr.
After that, we went back home and packed up a cooler with some water and snacks because it was time for the Ironbirds (N's team this fall) to play the Tigers (our rivals, the Marlins, from last season). For "Fall Ball," the league combines age groups since there are usually less participants, so there are 4 teams with 11-13 players. They range in age from 10-12/13, depending on birthdays. Anyone who's 10 will be 11 before Spring Ball starts, so they'll play in the U11 league in the spring (like N, who just turned 11), but in the fall, they play U12. So complicated. The Tigers head coach coached N last fall when he was a Marlin, and this season, he has both of his sons on his team. That team is a powerhouse, y'all.
I got stuck keeping track of runs and outs, which is frustrating when you realize, "Oh crap! I'm supposed to be keeping up with balls and strikes." I'm hoping to get fired. N got nailed by a pitch when he was up to bat for the second time, right below his left shoulder. He had a nice bruise forming by the time the game was over. With the Marlins last season (and the Tigers this season, it seems) we never seemed to come alive until the 4th inning. This game was no exception. They were up, 8-0, until we scored 5 runs in the bottom of the 4th. They have a group of players who've been playing together for a long time. We have several who've never played ball before. We even had a boy cave under pressure on the mound and start crying because he couldn't get the ball over the plate...poor kid.
It was a fun game, anyway, and N is not being as serious, which I love...except he took it too far tonight and got all of the boys in the dugout repeating the stupid "Hump DAYYYYY!" commercial. You know the one...the camel walking through the office? Ugh.
I wish he had a "mute" button sometimes.
Aubs
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Friday the 13th
Each time I think of "Friday the 13th," I hear little lightning crashes dancing around inside my head, very ominous-like. You know...my head is a funny little thing sometimes.
Anyhow, the day was busy from start to finish. I had a few deadlines for an American Literature class I'm taking this semester, and I knew it would be a late night for me, so I spent the first few hours of my day working on creating a quiz about early American Literature and then writing a thought provoking response to a short story by Mark Twain. It was all fascinating.
Since I knew I was going to be dateless for the festivities this evening, I realized I needed a smaller purse of some sort. So, like any "normal" girl would, I made a list of places I should check and set off on an adventure. My adventure was not super successful, until I realized that there was a Charming Charlie near my apartment now, and they always have clutches in a rainbow of colors and sizes. I was reeling from my successful trip to Sam's where I purchased bottled water and discovered that they had one of my favorite wines back in stock. When I got to Charming Charlie's, I wondered around for a while, feeling overwhelmed. Accessories are not my thing. I'm good if I put on my watch, stud earrings, and the ring that belonged to my grandmother, and half the time, I leave the ring in my drawer based on day-to-day activities. I'd hate to see anything happen to it, and I hope to pass it down someday.
Anyway, I found a silver clutch, unlike anything I'd ever use, but the price was right ($10) so off I went...and here's where it gets exciting. (There should be a heavy dose of sarcasm radiating from that sentence.) No, I am excited, actually. I've been wanting to try out this hair place for FOREVER, based on recommendations from a good friend of mine. They only do blowouts and styles...it's called the "drybar," and I went to the Plano location at the Shops at Legacy. Y'all, it was super. Brittany washed and dried my hair in no time at all, and then spent some time working on curls. My problem is that my hair will hold curl without a problem...in dry, non-humid conditions. Sweat-inducing conditions? Forget it. And it looked really great...until it didn't. And it stopped looking great way before the wedding, but I didn't even care. It was $35 well spent, and I'm totally looking forward to going again and trying a "sleek & straight" blowout. You know, next time I have something special to look forward to.
I rushed home and geared up for the wedding, dropping N at baseball practice in 5" heels and a cocktail dress, and then spent 97 minutes in traffic, trying to cut across the city to make it to the event on time. I made it with about 15 minutes to spare. I hung out with my dad and brother-in-law and some of the guys, then snuck upstairs to find my Seester and the ladies in the bridal party. The ceremony was just right for the bride and groom: full of laughter and smiles and happiness. As the staff readied the room for the reception, my phone rang. "Mom, I forgot to pack underwear or socks. Help!"
And that was how I found myself leaving the reception and getting in my car just as I overheard the DJ announce the entrance of the newlyweds. And by the time I got close to my apartment, I received another phone call: "Hey, Mom, it's cool. Dad bought me some boxers and socks for at his house. Have fun at your party or whatever."
And that, my friends, is how I spent the evening watching the Red Sox game, before switching to The Hunger Games, and calling it a night.
Do I know how to party, or what?
Aubs
Anyhow, the day was busy from start to finish. I had a few deadlines for an American Literature class I'm taking this semester, and I knew it would be a late night for me, so I spent the first few hours of my day working on creating a quiz about early American Literature and then writing a thought provoking response to a short story by Mark Twain. It was all fascinating.
Since I knew I was going to be dateless for the festivities this evening, I realized I needed a smaller purse of some sort. So, like any "normal" girl would, I made a list of places I should check and set off on an adventure. My adventure was not super successful, until I realized that there was a Charming Charlie near my apartment now, and they always have clutches in a rainbow of colors and sizes. I was reeling from my successful trip to Sam's where I purchased bottled water and discovered that they had one of my favorite wines back in stock. When I got to Charming Charlie's, I wondered around for a while, feeling overwhelmed. Accessories are not my thing. I'm good if I put on my watch, stud earrings, and the ring that belonged to my grandmother, and half the time, I leave the ring in my drawer based on day-to-day activities. I'd hate to see anything happen to it, and I hope to pass it down someday.
Anyway, I found a silver clutch, unlike anything I'd ever use, but the price was right ($10) so off I went...and here's where it gets exciting. (There should be a heavy dose of sarcasm radiating from that sentence.) No, I am excited, actually. I've been wanting to try out this hair place for FOREVER, based on recommendations from a good friend of mine. They only do blowouts and styles...it's called the "drybar," and I went to the Plano location at the Shops at Legacy. Y'all, it was super. Brittany washed and dried my hair in no time at all, and then spent some time working on curls. My problem is that my hair will hold curl without a problem...in dry, non-humid conditions. Sweat-inducing conditions? Forget it. And it looked really great...until it didn't. And it stopped looking great way before the wedding, but I didn't even care. It was $35 well spent, and I'm totally looking forward to going again and trying a "sleek & straight" blowout. You know, next time I have something special to look forward to.
I rushed home and geared up for the wedding, dropping N at baseball practice in 5" heels and a cocktail dress, and then spent 97 minutes in traffic, trying to cut across the city to make it to the event on time. I made it with about 15 minutes to spare. I hung out with my dad and brother-in-law and some of the guys, then snuck upstairs to find my Seester and the ladies in the bridal party. The ceremony was just right for the bride and groom: full of laughter and smiles and happiness. As the staff readied the room for the reception, my phone rang. "Mom, I forgot to pack underwear or socks. Help!"
And that was how I found myself leaving the reception and getting in my car just as I overheard the DJ announce the entrance of the newlyweds. And by the time I got close to my apartment, I received another phone call: "Hey, Mom, it's cool. Dad bought me some boxers and socks for at his house. Have fun at your party or whatever."
And that, my friends, is how I spent the evening watching the Red Sox game, before switching to The Hunger Games, and calling it a night.
Do I know how to party, or what?
Aubs
(My hair, as it was already starting to fall...oh well)
Thursday, September 12, 2013
All is NOT fair in love and war
Several months ago, during Spring baseball, I was kind of pushed into the role of team mom/organizer. Okay, I wasn't pushed, but I was a lot more organized than N's coach, so I took on the role so MY life would be less chaotic. You know, it's all about me... Anyway, in taking on that role, I got to know a lot of the parents in the league, especially those who had children on the team. One of them became a great friend to me; we have a lot of similar personality traits (I mostly think this is a good thing), similar interests, and we became fast friends.
As a younger than average parent in our city, there are a lot of times where I feel like I'm not a good fit because of my age, so the fact that this parent was only a year older than I am was another fantastic similarity. He and I talked often, and our kids became close, and it was great for my boys to have friends that I actually liked having around. You know how that goes...when your kids absolutely LOVE people who drive you insane to the point where you don't want them around? These kids were the polar opposite. Life was great.
A couple of months after we met, our friendship evolved into something a little more complex. I can't say for sure when we started feeling things outside of the normal friendship range, but it was fairly simultaneous. I've been a single parent for a long time, and he was just starting his journey as a single parent, so who better to help him than someone who knows the ropes? It was an entirely new experience for me...to have someone around who actually wanted to be there, who wanted to be there even when I pushed him away. And I did push him away. A lot. This whole idea of trying a relationship after being single for several years absolutely terrified me.
But, I tried. And after a lot of coaxing and gentle reminders, I realized that it was a great thing, and how blessed I was to have met this man who just randomly showed up in my life one Monday after Spring Break. We spent the first half of the summer together, when he wasn't on vacation with his kids/parents, and life was better than I ever could have imagined.
And then, it wasn't.
I don't know what happened. That's a lie. I absolutely do. I'm a control freak (one of many things I dislike about myself), and he and I had very different ideas on how to handle certain situations. I felt like my way was the only "right" way because I wasn't even trying to see it from his point of view. He pushed away, I pushed away, and we were both pissed...eventually we talked about it, but I don't think it ever fully went away. I know it didn't.
The second half of the summer was more forced than the relaxed nature of the previous several months, and that was hard to take, I think...for both of us. My boys (well, B) never stopped asking if his boys could come over, if he could come over for game nights, but the frequency became less and less. His work schedule picked back up and quadrupled because he had (unbeknownst to me) slacked off on his workload in order to spend time with me over the summer (plus two lengthy vacations with his boys), resulting in a September where he's traveling all but approximately 11 days. I hate that for him. I hate that for his boys. And, yes...I'm selfish enough to hate that for me, too.
I have tried my hardest to keep things going, but I'm afraid I have to admit defeat here...and that breaks my heart. It really does, more than one could possibly imagine.
(Entering melodrama....NOW)
I've cared about people before. I've claimed to be "in love" before. It doesn't compare to not only what I feel for this man, but also what I felt in return. It was real. It was exciting. It was comfortable, but passionate all at the same time. We moved way too quickly in the beginning, planning way too far into the future and getting ahead of ourselves. One of us slowed down, but the other kept on trucking. Then, we both slowed down, but we were on different timetables still...one slower than the other. We both picked back up, but again, on different levels. And somewhere in there, the roles became reversed...and the slower one became the one who was ready to push it forward.
I don't even know how that happened. So, here I sit, on the eve of a dear friend's wedding, and my date for the evening is a thousand miles away (both figuratively and literally). I am sad, but I am still foolishly hopeful that it will all pan out and we will work through the issues we have to where we can be an "us" again. I know breaks are good sometimes, and sometimes they make each person realize what really matters in the grand scheme of things, but they can also be bad. So, so bad.
This is a huge deal to me because I swore I'd never date again. Why? Because I didn't want to ever feel like this again. I'm happy(ish) by myself. I can live...by myself. I've done it for years. The bad part is that I was blessed to be able to share the last several months of my life with a man who has been more caring and kind and loving to me than any man I've ever even contemplated a relationship with, and I'm saddened by the fact that it's come to this. (I'm also not done talking about it, I'm sure...but this is more than enough for one night. Tune in soon for a breakdown of what I did wrong vs. what he did wrong. It's a short list.)
Is it totally over? I have no idea. It feels like it...but everyone's definition of a "break" is different. Maybe getting through the next six weeks will make us stronger and put another notch in our "tough stuff we've made it through" belt, or maybe the whole "out of sight, out of mind" saying is true...and we'll just move forward, yet apart, without real closure to the situation. Either way, it doesn't bode well for my already damaged heart/mind that I thought was fixed, but apparently, it was only temporary. But the great thing about me (What? There's just one?!) is that I'm really good at building bridges. I just don't want to burn this one.
Aubs
P.S. Know what sucks more than being in your early 30s and attending a wedding of a super-close friend (as in you've called her your sister for as long as you've known her) by yourself when you previously RSVP'd for two since your boyfriend was planning to be your date? Well, I'm sure there are tons of things...but I'm being shallow and melancholy, so I'll just say attending a wedding as a single woman, without a date, totally sucks. A lot.
As a younger than average parent in our city, there are a lot of times where I feel like I'm not a good fit because of my age, so the fact that this parent was only a year older than I am was another fantastic similarity. He and I talked often, and our kids became close, and it was great for my boys to have friends that I actually liked having around. You know how that goes...when your kids absolutely LOVE people who drive you insane to the point where you don't want them around? These kids were the polar opposite. Life was great.
A couple of months after we met, our friendship evolved into something a little more complex. I can't say for sure when we started feeling things outside of the normal friendship range, but it was fairly simultaneous. I've been a single parent for a long time, and he was just starting his journey as a single parent, so who better to help him than someone who knows the ropes? It was an entirely new experience for me...to have someone around who actually wanted to be there, who wanted to be there even when I pushed him away. And I did push him away. A lot. This whole idea of trying a relationship after being single for several years absolutely terrified me.
But, I tried. And after a lot of coaxing and gentle reminders, I realized that it was a great thing, and how blessed I was to have met this man who just randomly showed up in my life one Monday after Spring Break. We spent the first half of the summer together, when he wasn't on vacation with his kids/parents, and life was better than I ever could have imagined.
And then, it wasn't.
I don't know what happened. That's a lie. I absolutely do. I'm a control freak (one of many things I dislike about myself), and he and I had very different ideas on how to handle certain situations. I felt like my way was the only "right" way because I wasn't even trying to see it from his point of view. He pushed away, I pushed away, and we were both pissed...eventually we talked about it, but I don't think it ever fully went away. I know it didn't.
The second half of the summer was more forced than the relaxed nature of the previous several months, and that was hard to take, I think...for both of us. My boys (well, B) never stopped asking if his boys could come over, if he could come over for game nights, but the frequency became less and less. His work schedule picked back up and quadrupled because he had (unbeknownst to me) slacked off on his workload in order to spend time with me over the summer (plus two lengthy vacations with his boys), resulting in a September where he's traveling all but approximately 11 days. I hate that for him. I hate that for his boys. And, yes...I'm selfish enough to hate that for me, too.
I have tried my hardest to keep things going, but I'm afraid I have to admit defeat here...and that breaks my heart. It really does, more than one could possibly imagine.
(Entering melodrama....NOW)
I've cared about people before. I've claimed to be "in love" before. It doesn't compare to not only what I feel for this man, but also what I felt in return. It was real. It was exciting. It was comfortable, but passionate all at the same time. We moved way too quickly in the beginning, planning way too far into the future and getting ahead of ourselves. One of us slowed down, but the other kept on trucking. Then, we both slowed down, but we were on different timetables still...one slower than the other. We both picked back up, but again, on different levels. And somewhere in there, the roles became reversed...and the slower one became the one who was ready to push it forward.
I don't even know how that happened. So, here I sit, on the eve of a dear friend's wedding, and my date for the evening is a thousand miles away (both figuratively and literally). I am sad, but I am still foolishly hopeful that it will all pan out and we will work through the issues we have to where we can be an "us" again. I know breaks are good sometimes, and sometimes they make each person realize what really matters in the grand scheme of things, but they can also be bad. So, so bad.
This is a huge deal to me because I swore I'd never date again. Why? Because I didn't want to ever feel like this again. I'm happy(ish) by myself. I can live...by myself. I've done it for years. The bad part is that I was blessed to be able to share the last several months of my life with a man who has been more caring and kind and loving to me than any man I've ever even contemplated a relationship with, and I'm saddened by the fact that it's come to this. (I'm also not done talking about it, I'm sure...but this is more than enough for one night. Tune in soon for a breakdown of what I did wrong vs. what he did wrong. It's a short list.)
Is it totally over? I have no idea. It feels like it...but everyone's definition of a "break" is different. Maybe getting through the next six weeks will make us stronger and put another notch in our "tough stuff we've made it through" belt, or maybe the whole "out of sight, out of mind" saying is true...and we'll just move forward, yet apart, without real closure to the situation. Either way, it doesn't bode well for my already damaged heart/mind that I thought was fixed, but apparently, it was only temporary. But the great thing about me (What? There's just one?!) is that I'm really good at building bridges. I just don't want to burn this one.
Aubs
P.S. Know what sucks more than being in your early 30s and attending a wedding of a super-close friend (as in you've called her your sister for as long as you've known her) by yourself when you previously RSVP'd for two since your boyfriend was planning to be your date? Well, I'm sure there are tons of things...but I'm being shallow and melancholy, so I'll just say attending a wedding as a single woman, without a date, totally sucks. A lot.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)