Making It

I was talking to a woman about her daughter today, who is also a single mother, who also does not receive child support, who also seems to be managing and in many ways seemed to be exactly like me or at least in a very similar situation.

Without going into further personal details about either of us, I remember telling the woman how good it was to hear that her daughter is doing well. In fact, I think my exact words were “good for her, I’m glad she’s making it.”

I wonder though, why that seemed so impressive to me. Why any of the similarities that I shared in this post were enough for me to think that this single mother was “making it”.

Should we be proud of ourselves for these things? Should I really expect to one day receive a fantastic award for being a single mother? In all actuality, it is my responsibility. There’s nothing impressive or special about doing what you’re supposed to do. For making it through really hard stuff and not jumping off a bridge. This is life. You either do it and do it well, or…you don’t.

A comment on a photo on Facebook reads:

Beautiful inside and out! a person with deep thoughts and a mother who truly knows how to love her child.If youve ever read some of what this person can write…well it shows how balanced and deep thinking she is.

I could’ve cried. I care less about writing well than I do of physical beauty. A compliment as a mother can literally bring me to tears. I imagine that the reward comes in the form of what others see and by comments like “…a mother who truly knows how to love her child.”

And if this is the case, this isn’t a reward solely for single mothers or single fathers. There is rarely any special praise for parents that love their children and are married. No one tells married couples with kids that they’re doing well just because they don’t get child support or food stamps.

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A friend of mine told me recently that I purposely want to be a single mother forever just so I can prove to the world what a hardcore bitch I am. So I can tell everyone that I made it and somehow prove a point. (A point that I do realize, no one else really cares about, because in the end this is what I’m supposed to be doing.) I had to agree with him.

Yeah, you’re probably right.

I do feel as though I’m on some sort of self inflicted mission. The part that isn’t true though, is the assumption that I somehow enjoy this and would prefer this. And just for the record, this is definitely not the reason I am single.

Because to be honest, a day doesn’t go by without me wishing I had done things differently. I look at my daughter and wonder fearfully if my mistakes will affect her negatively. If somehow she will pay for the decisions I have made, and well that’s a bit like smoking while pregnant. It’s not fair to the child. They don’t get to choose and have no control over those sorts of decisions. They merely live with the consequences.

“Making it” is her being okay despite her mother’s decisions. Her happiness and stability, are mine. Her making it, is me making it.

It is never just the fact that I seem to be able to do this myself.  Because really, sometimes I don’t think I can.

I just do. And there’s nothing special about that.

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Please Jump

Sometimes you’re standing on the edge and looking down and what you see could be the most sparkling pool of water, but something will keep you from jumping. Even if what you’re standing next too is dark and dismal.

I am embarrassed to admit that I watched Hannah Montana: The Movie. Actually, I own this silly DVD. Two reasons. One, I have a 6 year old who at one time adored Miss Montana. Two, I don’t have cable anymore (remember RIP Dead Television) and so I purchase DVDs that my daughter would like to watch more than once.

Luckily, she hasn’t had an urge to watch Hannah Montana as often as she watches Scooby Doo Cyber Chase.

Anyway, one of the many plots in the movie includes of course the cowboy love interest. He has a hard time asking Hannah out, and while he’s trying to spit it out, she tells him to “please jump”. This is linked somehow to something he said to her earlier, which I’m sure is significant, but I can’t remember. I watched it. I didn’t study it.

Please jump.

We have to decide if taking the chance on busting our heads and sometimes hearts all over the bottom of the pit is worth it. Sometimes it isn’t. A lot of times it isn’t. I can think of a few times I ran blindly to the edge and just dove to the bottom and then wondered what the hell I was thinking. Sometimes I was pushed over. Sometimes I jumped to get away from something. Often I was tricked. As if someone at the bottom said they were holding the moon and I fell for it.

Silly me.

Unless you are literally jumping off of a cliff (which I am not recommending), I still believe it’s better to jump.  Jump or wonder for the rest of the time I’m on Earth what may have been down there. Jump or stand next to something I know I should get away from. Jump or just linger there and do nothing…but wonder.

And that can’t be productive.

It’s difficult to take that chance. Especially if you’ve jumped in the past and found out there was just a bunch of dirt at the bottom. That the down there wasn’t any better than the up there. Worse even if people told you not to jump and you did.

Still better to know though, isn’t it?

I choose to jump. Again. Always.

One of these days, the moon may actually be down there. And it’ll be worth it.

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What Does Dinner Mean?

Dinner in its literal sense of course means the following:

Consumption of good food.

I added “good” because I don’t believe anyone goes to “dinner” at McDonald’s or somewhere crappy on purpose.  Not this kind of dinner anyway.

My question is though, when asked to dinner by someone of the opposite sex, what exactly does “dinner” mean?

I asked two people. One said, “A man is always interested. He only settles for friendship  if he absolutely has to.”

The other said, “Dinner always means interest.” (And later inferring sexual interest.)

So if I am asked to dinner, does this automatically mean the person is interested in something? Does dinner ever mean “I just want to consume good food with ya.”?

Can We All Just Eat?

1.  It has to depend upon who’s asking. Is he a stranger at the grocery store? Is he a good friend? Is he a coworker? According to one source, none of this makes a difference. Accepting a dinner invite basically means you have checked the “yes” box on the “do you like me” question. Personally, if I am asked to dinner in the vegetable section at the grocery store, I’m assuming dude is impressed by my method of selecting broccoli.

Just kidding. Really. Everyone knows men dig carrots.

On the grocery store note (which includes Walmart) I’m not sure it’s safe to accept random invites anyway. Women inviting men in the grocery store are a different story though, right? I would suggest the meat section in that case, though. Holy cow do men like meat. But I digress…

2.  Other randoms that aren’t really strangers. Gym rats, for example. They’re not really strangers. You may even know their names. You probably see them regularly. They may have even blocked the machine you were going to use to ask you out. How presumptuous is it to conclude that a person is really into you when they only see you as a sweatball in shorts and a tank top? It can’t be too ridiculous to think they may want to just eat and chat about protein drinks.

3.  Coworkers. Sticky situation with coworkers and dinner. I have been advised that one on one with coworkers is possibly more than shop talk. Happy Hour with everyone at the office is well…Happy Hour and not really dinner anyway. Unless you count hot wings and nachos as dinner. Dinner with a coworker cannot possibly mean interest. Or maybe I just refuse to imagine any such thing with any of my coworkers.

4.  Good friends and everyone else I can’t think of. Dinner with a good friend of the opposite sex is (to me) like going to dinner with your brother or sister, who I’m assuming are not interested in anything further than hanging out and eating. If a good friend was ever interested it had to be so long ago no one cares. I have been told that this means they’ve settled for now and are just waiting. Not sure I believe in that theory because really, who has time for that?

5. I have a boyfriend or huz or other statement that means no chance. If you mention boyfriend or huz (even if the bf or huz is very very far away), or that you’re a lesbian or that you’re on meds for attachment issues, and the person still asks you to dinner it can’t possibly mean they’re interested in something other than hanging out.

My point is that dinner cannot possibly always mean I want you. Maybe I’m wrong. Whether you are male, female, transexual, bisexual, married, single, whatever…help me out here. What does it mean to you when you are asked to dinner? Do you ever ask someone out…just to eat?

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Goodbyes

Maybe I’m just a negative person. Or maybe I’m the kind of person that doesn’t try very hard, but I’ve been wondering (not because of my own relationships, thank you very much) when it’s really time to say goodbye. Admittedly I have said goodbye too soon. Some forced. Some by choice. A lot out of complete ridiculousness.

My daughter doesn’t quite comprehend goodbye yet. Although she has said it to friends and family, she never really expects it to be the last time she sees someone. Nothing to a six year old is actually forever. Understandable. I live where I live so she doesn’t have to experience frivolous goodbyes. I want nothing more than to be able to jaunt away to somewhere that suits me better, to the grass is greener area of the world, but because of her I stay. Goodbyes simply because I don’t like the smell of fresh country air…bad.

But I have been considering those times when goodbyes are good. After all it includes the word “good” so it can’t always be bad. I don’t see myself using the phrase “badbye”, but now that I think of it, I may have just invented something.

Anyway, if the relationship sucks (which will further be referred to as “relay” because I text and I’m lazy about typing long words) at what point is it a- ok to throw in the towel? (Not including blatant abuse, mind you.)

When we feel disrespected.

When we are hurt.

When we cannot possibly imagine spending another second of our lives with that person.

When the relay not only does not make us better but has the possibility of making us worse as humans.

Further, goodbyes are good when you think about life without the relay and you feel relieved. Like a problem has been solved. Like a big stinkin mountain was lifted from your shoulders, because I don’t care what it is, it is never worth bad posture.

It is not time to say goodbye if:

Life without the relay would be utterly miserable.

You think something occurred that actually did not.

You are afraid that you are too happy so obviously God or whomever you believe in is playing a joke on you.

One or more participants of the relay are pms-ing or drunk. I’m just saying.

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I’ve decided to live in the rainbow instead of looking for the end. Sometimes what appears to be better is not, sometimes it is.

Unless we are around the age of six, we are forced to live with the reality and significance of forever. If I never see you again, can I live with that?

After all, forever is an awful long ass time. Make sure it’s worth it.

I Don’t Care

I say I don’t care when I do.

Or maybe just the fact that I know I do this, means I really don’t care.

Here I am.

I care about my daughter.

I care about my family.

I care about my friends.

All people that know I care even when I say I don’t.

Everything else could possibly make my life easier, better, prettier, if I acted like I cared.

Or maybe not. And I’m just saying that.

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Eating the To Do List and Escape from List Hell

Friday, right before my boss decided to close the office early he asked me for my list. Specifically, he wanted to see all the work I have not done.

Him:  Uh, Monday you need to work on this list.

Me:  What? I could’ve sworn I had it down to a page (it’s like 6 pages long). And oh snap, is there really stuff on there from 2006? Shut. Up.

Anyway, after spending the weekend at parties and halfway trying to clean the house that resembles an episode of “Hoarding”, and attempting to get caught up on freelance work so this week wouldn’t completely suck, and taking care of my daughter, whom I’ve promised to take somewhere wonderful and have not…today (endearingly referred to as Hell Monday the pregame to Hell Week) I attempt to tackle the list.

And by mid afternoon I realize that there is no way in Hell I can ever accomplish all that is on not only the work list, but MY list.

Sometimes you eat the list. Sometimes the list eats you. My list has eaten me and I’m in the abdomen of List Hell trying to climb out.

What Comes First

Anyone with a To-Do list knows you have to prioritize.  My daughter of course comes first. Anything concerning her is first, which includes family, school, fun, hanging out, work (which pays for her) and survival, all come first. That’s all first.

Her.

That leaves no time for anything that is not related to her or even second on the list and any possibility of any outside endeavor, like maybe a relationship, is bumped way, way down to the bottom. Until I can effectively figure out how to cheat and connect that which is at the bottom to my daughter. It can be done. I’ve successfully linked pedicures to her, thus nice toes=priority.

Ur not bothering me. Seriously I’m getting more stressed over u saying that. My work is hella behind my house is a mess I have things to do with my daughter and my family and u seem to want some kind of conflict AND the excess shit from everyone else and I’m reading the after a while poem and seriously feel like I’m going. To. Lose. It.

Welcome to Text Hell, a close relative of Run-On Sentence Hell and a direct result of List Hell. Apologies if you were the recipient of that. Imagine what it’s like when I’m really stressed out.

Later I explain that I’m literally getting tired of pretending like everything is fantastic. I don’t hate it. I’m not complaining. Not really. I’m just tired and there’s really nothing anyone can do to help. After all, this is my life.

Unless you want to reach down and pull me out of List Hell. Or you could just eat the damn list for me.

And let’s hope I’m smart enough to let you.

Do You Win When You Win?

Stubborn-ness is genetic (and I don’t care if stubborn-ness isn’t a word). I’m positive of it even though I know nothing of my true genes. I do know, that my daughter will argue you down about whether a blue sky is really aqua until you run away yelling uncle.

And I’m pretty sure that comes from me. Except I won’t argue as long as she does. I’ll just stop talking to you until you come back and say uncle.

Damn straight. And yeah, that’s what I thought.

Sometimes though, they don’t come back and you move on to the next level of stubborn-ness which is choosing to lose something in order to win. Being satisfied that you didn’t give in under any circumstances, that in the end “I was right. I’m still right. I’ll be right forever. I’m right. I’m right. Game over, sucka…”

Except if they don’t come back, that isn’t really winning. (This is of course without taking into consideration those people that you need to tell to kick rocks.) Losing anything good, whether love, a part of yourself or just a close friend in the name of stubborn-ness can never be added into the win column. A loss is still a loss. Anything that takes away from life is losing. If I wake up with less than I had yesterday, I lost something.

So I share with you my words of motherly wisdom to my daughter: You don’t always have to be right, love.

Sometimes there is no right. Sometimes their right is not our right. Sometimes the differences between rights and wrongs are so very, very, small and the absolute most insignificant part of the relationship. Sometimes, and this is really only sometimes, you have to be wrong to win.

What really matters, is will you still be my love? Will I still be my whole self? Will you still be my friend? Will you still be that part of my life that I allowed you to be in the first place? Will I wake up tomorrow with you still in that space? Will you still…

That’s what matters.

Keepin It Real on the Soft Side

I have half a mind to delete the last post regarding “What I Mean When I Say I Love You” and it’s only because of the mission I’ve dedicated myself to that I didn’t press the big deleticus button like five seconds after it published. What mission? I have a couple currently with a handful on deck, but the one I’m referring to at the moment is the quest to “keeping it real”. I have deleted one post since starting this blog, and only because it really made someone look bad. Like shitball bad. Considering the fact that occasionally my family and friends read this blog, I thought it was only fair to that person that I remove the post.

Otherwise, I have kept every lame ass blog post I ever wrote on here. Some are way too wordy. Some are just plain weird and the previous I love you post is only topped in mushiness and emo-ness by Nicholas Sparks’ The Notebook.

I haven’t watched The Notebook either. I just know it’s laden with sappiness and lovey dovey-ness that I don’t generally dig in my lit or my movies. As a lover of words and all things lyrical, this may surprise some but in all seriousness, I hate that ish. I despise when I get all wrapped up in unprovoked feelings. Especially when it’s imaginary and has nothing to do with me.

Sometimes I hate being a girl. But anyone that shares in this girlyness with me knows that there are times when we just can’t help being girly. When no matter how hard we pitch…we still throw like a girl.

Yet, sometimes keeping it real means we post silly girly stuff that we can’t delete because keepin it real also means baring our girlish souls and accepting that people will see inside us at our worst and most vulnerable moments. And that’s ok.

Cuz I’m real and this is real life ish.

Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.  ~Homer

What I Mean When I Say I Love You

It means different things to different people. How many times has a good friend told you with tears in their eyes, “he said he loved me.” We assume that he/she is a lying bastard. Because if you really love someone you wouldn’t make them feel the way your friend does.

But I love you doesn’t always mean the same thing to everyone. To me, it means that I adore you with my entire soul. This is how it was defined when I first found out I was pregnant. This is what it means to me when I tell my daughter forty times a day. I love you, with everything that is me for no reason at all. I have never told someone forty times a day that I love them, nor have I ever loved someone as I love her.

To a 6 year old, it means I like you. You smell good. You’re nice to me. We play cops and robbers together, and even though I always have to be the robber…I love you. (See the post about her telling everyone at school that she loves them.) I have discussed with her that it should mean more and she has eased up on her loviness but at this point, we still see this phrase through completely different eyes.

Maybe to you it means you like that person and enjoy hanging out,

maybe it means you sure hope nothing bad ever happens to that person,

maybe it even means you feel as though you could not live without them,

and if one day you figure out you don’t really want to hang out anymore

or you do hope something bad happens to them

or you figure out you could very easily live without them and would actually like to,

then you don’t love them anymore. Maybe.

And if this happens to be the definition in your eyes, than it’s not a lie. You are not a lying bastard, because the feelings you felt when you said you loved them aren’t true anymore, which means your love isn’t either. Not everyone believes love is forever. Ask my daughter.

Some people say it easily because it doesn’t mean the same thing as it may to you. With my entire soul? With everything that is me? That’s pretty serious and to most it isn’t.

We should be on the same page. We should make sure we know what it means to the other person. It isn’t always a lie. Sometimes, it’s a misunderstanding.

A difference in definition.

Single Mother by Choice

There’s nothing wrong with me.

There are still people out there that think any single woman over 30 has something very wrong with her. Clinical. Certifiable. Epically wrong. They’re not all old folks either, by the way. There are also people that believe any single woman over 30 that has a child should pretty much take whatever they’re given. Or whomever happens to show even the slightest interest, because after all:

You are not getting any younger.

I was eating dinner with my parents and my grandmother when someone happened to mention to grandma that I don’t cook. There are no real words to describe her look of disgust. “What? You don’t cook?!!” accompanied with vigorous head shaking translated into a bright and flashing message.

FAILURE AS A WOMAN.

And those dumb arrows pointed at me like a cheap hotel sign.

YOU. MISS NON COOKING SINGLE MOTHER. EPIC FAIL. DESTINED FOR LOSERNESS FOR ALL ETERNITY. BAHAHAHA…**

Seriously, it’s safe to assume that grandma was thinking “Ha! Good luck finding a man now, Ms. Failure as a Woman.” After all, my goal should be to find a man, right? One must cook and do all of those things to make men happy in order to get one.

No. Wonder. I’m. Single. Men are simple. Cook, sleep with them, keep the home tidy, do whatever makes him happy, and regardless of the shit sandwich he actually brings to the table, you may be lucky enough to be trapped with him dedicate your life to him and keep him for the rest of the time you spend on this earth. And just maybe, depending upon what you believe, if you’re extremely lucky and successful as a woman, you could even be blessed enough to be haunted by have him after your tour on earth as well! Wahoo!

Let’s look at my checklist:

Cook: No

Sleep With Him: No comment

Keep the Home Tidy: No

Do Whatever Keeps Him Happy: Not Likely

Eat Shit Sandwiches Provided By Him: Hells No

Summary: Damn. I may be single a while.

Please. Anything BUT Single Motherhood

I read recently in a TIME magazine article that originally the birth control pill was only prescribed for married women. The idea was that giving a single woman the option to control whether she became pregnant or not promoted promiscuity. Single women either did not have sex (morality still matters) or had sex and took their chances on whatever happened. If whatever happened happened to be pregnancy, they either chose abortion, adoption, or found someone really quick to get married to. Preferably whomever the father was, even if you realized after all, that you didn’t really like him that much. No one wanted to be a single mother.

Those were the days, huh? When women auto married after or during high school, had a posse of children and found themselves trapped with men that today would be left in the dust 2 months into dating. The era in which women were completely dependent upon men, and the fear of being on the street with 12 kids single handedly kept them married til death. At that time everyone knew divorce equaled solitary mama equaled death sentence.

Be as Single as You Wanna Be

Now look at us. Single women that are sometimes on the pill. Sometimes have sexual relations before marriage. Sometimes don’t get trapped into marriage. Almost never have to be married to be mommies. (I’m obviously not counting third world countries where divorce is punishable by death.)

Single women that even choose through envitro and other scientific like procedures to become single mothers on purpose. And no, I’m not just talking about lesbian mothers. Oftentimes, simply women who are tired of waiting for Mr. Right. Women who know they will be great mothers even without marriage. Women that are aware that admittedly, we aren’t getting any younger. Women that would rather make their own shit sandwich and eat it themselves rather than share one with a man. And yeah, sometimes even lesbians.

The greatest thing about the invention of the birth control pill? Not settling for Mr. Crappy just because we did what everyone said we had to do.

Even if you’re a mother.***

(By the way, happy 50th, birth control pill.)

**Disclaimer: I have a child and I am single. I do feed her. We eat very well. I do cook that which is required. Fear not.

***Don’t get me wrong, I do still believe that the family consisting of a mother and father is of course the ideal situation for a child. A mother and father that actually want to be together. It is lovely and convenient, but by no means a requirement.