The big 4-0....and all I've learned so far.

I've learned a ton during my 40 trips around the sun. I don't think the lessons have been anything special in the larger scheme of things, but since I've been happier in the last few years than ever in my life, I am gathering that I actually did LEARN from all my experiences and have steadily made improvements in my choices and the general direction I'm taking in life. I'm hoping that bodes well for my next 40 years.

Ah, but starting at the beginnning, well almost the beginning, at least as early as I can remember....I learned to tie my shoes, color inside the lines, and that boys who chase you on the playground probably like you. I learned I loved gymnastics and running as fast as I could, to try to beat those boys, probably because I liked them. I learned my best girlfriends sometimes got jealous and wouldn't be my best friend for a while. I learned some of my friends got along with each other and some just got along with me. I've been able to keep friends for many, many years because I figured that one out.

I learned I liked boys and liked having a boyfriend, even if it was in name only, and we rarely were in the same space together, but wrote tiny love letters and passed them through our friends.

I learned I would be shorter and smaller than all my friends, and wouldn't need a bra until well into junior high. I learned that wasn't a bad thing because the boys popped girls' bra straps. A lot. I learned to wear shorts under my Catholic school uniform skirt because those same boys would fall down and try to look under our skirts.

I learned that older boys in high school liked the freshman girls but not for long-term. They were bored with their same-ole, same-ole girls and dabbled with the fresh meat. I learned they quickly bored with me and took off back to their junior or senior girls. I learned that the upperclassmen girls disliked me on the spot because of this. I finally learned to stop taking the taunts from those bitchy girls and fight back to save my own sanity. Eventually I learned to not date the older guys because they were not worth all the trouble.

I learned there was a boy who could love me because we were friends first and he respected me because he was brought up right, and was that kind of boy. I learned what it was like to depend on someone, and trust someone, and enjoyed my senior year with him and my other life-long friends.



I learned what I wanted to do as a major/career and which college I would attend to pursue that goal. I learned that I was ready to live on my own as soon as my parents left me and my roommate in our new apartment for the first time. I learned to keep my old friends close, but to make an effort to meet new ones and expand my circle of friends beyond my hometown.



I learned that fraternity parties were dangerous, and mixing alcohol was very, very stupid. I learned that skipping ONE class wasn't the end of the world. I learned not to put metal in the microwave. I learned that turning off your heater when you leave for Christmas break isn't smart when it freezes and the pipes burst, spewing water all down the inside of your closet and flooding your apartment with 4 inches of water. I learned how to pay bills, use a credit card responsibly, and balance a checkbook.

I learned to love another boy, who also was an old friend first, and who became my best friend and boyfriend for those college years, until we both outgrew each other (it happens at age 21) and then I learned heartbreak, and lost myself for a while, not knowing myself and because of that, not knowing what I really wanted in a man.

I learned to trust again from a nice boy who wasn't going the same direction in life that I was, but who listened to me and made me laugh and who didn't ask much of me. I took a job far away from anyone I knew and learned I could live really on my own, although I learned I did not like being truly THAT alone. Evenutally I learned this boy would stand by me and was never jealous or intimidated by my successes, and he came from a good family, and I thought he would a good husband and father. I learned I was finally ready for marriage and to begin my adult life.

I learned what family is. I learned how to build a household and make a home and be part of my own family, our team. I learned what real responsibility is, and became the person to handle the business of our little family.


By this time I was close to 30 years old. And it was then that I learned to fully and completely love someone. My babies. My little girls. They taught me I was able and willing to live my life totally beholden to them, without question. And I learned my goal in life is to be the best possible guide to a good life for each of them.

My 30s began with Motherhood in full swing. There were some rough patches. I learned that I was beginning to find myself and wasn't always happy with the choices I had made. I tried to figure out what to change, and made mistakes, but I learned from them. I learned to take care of me, for once. My babies were growing up and not as needy, so I learned what to do to lose the extra weight I'd carried after having them, and that I loved biking and running. This time with myself allowed me to examine what I was doing, and if I was happy. I learned I was not. I learned that I had a desire to see more of this world and to have friends who shared some of the activities I enjoyed.

I clung to my girls as I knew I couldn't live without them, but I had learned that their dad and my's time was up. I arranged my life so that the girls wouldn't be uprooted or jossled around, and that they knew their parents loved them even though we no longer lived together. I learned a failed marriage and a broken home made me very, very sad.

I learned I could be happy and love again, then with Romeo. I was able to have the travels I wanted, and the friends I wanted, and the confidante and best friend I'd been missing for so long. It also gave me the time to understand so much about my adult self-- the opinions and standards and needs and limitations that have grown within me over all of these 40 years, but I ended it on my terms and for my own peace of mind.

So now I am hitting this new milestone. A half-way point? Possible, but not probable. I am proud to have taken in all these lessons and have come out as a 40 year old with solid convictions, and physical and emotional strengths, and life knowledge. That sounds like a superhero, but I am most definitely not that.

I'm just a girl, who happens to be 40, and has learned to love it.

Alone on an Iceberg, er...blog.

I'm not sure what I thought I'd be doing on this blog when I started it. I thought I'd put down funny thoughts and stories and make my few readers laugh with me or when I'd throw out a problem perplexing me, have someone offer advice. But now I feel like I'm avoiding it. Like I wanna whine and bitch, but don't want anyone to know how NOT-together I have it. I wanna blog for me but this forum forces me to publicize my wailings. I guess it's good for me to get it out of my head and into the light. I'm not one for airing my dirty laundry with just anyone, but the essence of a BLOG is to do just that.

Blog...what a stupid word.

Blog. Blog. Bloggity-blog, blog, blog...blaaaahhhhhhgggg....ok, I feel ready now.

Nothing really joyful is going on right now- only a lot of things to worry about, and wallow in, and mope around about. I am about to turn 40 in a two short weeks, but I'm in good shape for my age (except for my GD eyesight which has the nerve of betraying me by getting weaker), so that's not it. I guess what's weighing on me is that I have a big, effing question mark to stare at which is called "the next 40 years" of which I have no control over and don't have a clue how it will turn out. As a young person, like everyone else, I assumed I'd have my shit together and set in place at 40. Married, kids growing like weeds, work, friends, and stability and travel plans on the horizon. A nest egg to add to and depend on for those upcoming Golden Years.

I have a lot of these things, so I shouldn't be all piss and vinegar. My work is solid even in the most unsolid of economic times. My friends are awesome. I have several to choose from when I need a shoulder, or an ear. My nest egg is holding steady, maybe even growing, and since I have the stable job, I haven't dipped into it. I've traveled. My house is my own. I can buy myself or my kids things we need and even things we want. We have health insurance. We have dental insurance. Both kids have Nintendo DSes and bikes and new shoes and the cutest Walmart, Kohl's, and Target clothes you ever did see. These are the good things I have, and I recognize I am blessed.

For myself, finding a life partner is that current blackhole in my future. I was supposed to have that deal already wrapped up by now. I envy my friends who have stayed with their first loves, although there aren't many of them left. Either that or the "marrieds" are staying far away from me out of fear I have something contagious. I don't feel I even know what my type IS after my few experiences in my recent foray into datinghood. I'm starting to resent Match.com for dangling guys with alleged potential in front of me, and who I can clearly see have "viewed" me, but who apparently aren't interested no matter how high my "match percentage" is to them. Trust me, I've tweaked my profile and winked at guys in efforts to start something going, but the pickin's, they be slim.

Even the few good ones I've talked with or met I have a hard time mustering up the interest to keep it going, and apparently they feel the same. Bachelor #4 went away out of sheer neglect. That and the fact that chatting with him was about as exciting as watching paint dry. I'm starting to feel I don't want to meet my future love this way and I should maybe take a break from all the online action. The Austin area is teeming with divorced dads and I'm bound to bounce off of one without even trying. Yeah, sure. Eventually.

I also am tired. Tired every day. Plain ole' worn out, physically and mentally and emotionally. All 3 wrapped up in one big ball of apathy- and that ain't good. I drudge through my weekly routines and commitments and haven't been feeling the joie de vive, not like I think I should. I am happiest out on my bike, especially riding with friends, but all my other priorities limit me to only get rides sporadically. My kids need me and they are verbal enough to tell me that, and I feel a mountain of guilt if I take off for my own joy at the expense of theirs.

My kids' JOY is my other worry. My oldest, Lil Lady, is hitting puberty and has a mouth on her that can cut through cement when she's unleashing the angst upon her mother. She saves it up all day at school, when she doesn't understand a math theory, or her friend tells her she doesn't like her outfit, or she has to stay at the Y-afterschool for longer than she'd like...she saves it, and before we've even made the full 3 minute ride home from the Y to our house, she's begun with either hitting her sister, or telling me everything I do and say is wrong and it must mean I don't love her. She is quick to pull out the "you don't love me" when she's feeling particularly wronged. We go 10 rounds before I finally wise up and stop responding to her tirade and giving her the satisfaction of ignoring everything around me to concentrate on besting her. I finally wise up and shut my mouth and ignore her, and after trying to goad me back in and failing, she literally deflates and my sweet Lil Lady comes back to me. She still calls me "Mommy" and likes to chat about things like shaving her legs, growing out her bangs, and her future career (she's always trying to nail down her future job). When times are good, we love to snuggle on the couch and watch Modern Family and CSI together.

Then there's Chillgirl, who never knows when her sister will start to scream or hit, and because she's the littlest in the house, gets the brunt of her sister's tirades. Its quite possible (Lil Lady's counselor thinks so) that even though I divorced their dad when they were 4 and 8 years old, Lil Lady thinks the addition of Chillgirl was the beginning of the end of our marriage. She truely may believe that having a sister come into the picture complicated things between her parents beyond repair. I've told LL many other reasons why her parents are not living together, but she says she began her admittedly drama-filled persona at about 4 years old, coincidentally when her sissy came along.

But I shouldn't underestimate her sissy. Chillgirl looks at me with those big brown eyes and will still throw me a goofy face, even in the midst of a meltdown by her sister. This kid has a million funny faces to show me, like that poster of little cartoon faces showing all the different emotions they use with kids in therapy, and she will make me smile even when I've got steam coming out of my ears. Now Chillgirl is not always totally without fault. I sometimes can watch the gears moving behind those eyes and she's fully aware of how to passively-aggressively ef her sister up. And when karma works its magic, she gets her back. Oh yeah she does.



This is not to say these two little girls don't love each other. They usually play happily together and watch out for each other at school. I've walked into the Y and caught them laughing together and I've listened in the house and heard them playing "teacher/student" or "store clerk/customer". Its hilarious when they role-play. I think about growing up with a sister and she was definitely my target when I wasn't in the mood to be nice to anyone, so I keep telling myself this is all normal growing pains. This is the last week they will be at the same school at the same time together. Ever. I'm sad about that, so why shouldn't they be?

These being my biggest concerns in life, I look back on this buh-buh-blog and realize I have so much. I am in control of my own happiness now.

I now know why I started blogging in the first place.

Clarity.

Lessons in Humility: "So It Goes"...

Firstly, I want to thank the guru of love who came up with the splendid idea that single people should go online and post pictures of themselves, write about themselves, and basically only represent their absolute best, yet probably untrue selves to show the world. Put on display for others to view if they are looking for someone of the same age, or proximity, or "he likes felines too/he's a middle child too" (really?).

I do see the value in this form of what I'm loosely calling "dating". I have already met some nice guys. I would not have the opportunity to know so much information about a man I might meet in a bar, or at one of the kids' ball games, or in passing during my day. I cand reply or delete at will. That I get. Unfortunately now I have the eerie feeling that everywhere I go, there are men from Match.com around me, and I'm paranoid they are looking me with quizical looks on their faces which could mean "where have I seen you before?" and me doing the same. It's really an odd sensation that surprises me I'm out in public these days.

Daily on my email I am confronted by the never-marrieds, the divorcees, and the widowers who are supposedly my matches. Some are only 86% my match...WTF is that, you ask? The guy will be "athlete and toned", but he'll be agnostic. Or he'll love dogs, but never wanted kids. Uh, ok..hello, Match? Have you even LOOKED at my profile when you sent me this prize of a man? I have two kids. Count 'em, two. So if this freak doesn't want kids, then I'm going to venture a guess that he doesn't want me. The other bathos bit of knowledge is that MY profile is being sent to THEM as a possible match. I cringe to think of them looking and answering Match's question "Does she interest you? YES/MAYBE/NO" and then them going, "eh..." and moving on to the next female 30-45 on their list.

I've had six weeks of feeling like a piece of candy, stepping out of the limo, to meet my next prince, or frog as the case may be. The four guys I've actually met have probably been good catches/matches for some woman out there, but I'm not sure Match got it right for me. These guys emailed me, based on what they saw on my profile and I answered them if I liked what I saw on theirs.

Bachelor #1: Decided to talk to him because he ran and cycled and did triathlons, and because I needed to get off my ass and meet someone finally. He was 50 years old but I didn't want to rule him out, so I gave it a shot because I knew I'd have plenty to talk about with him. We had a nice lunch but when he mentioned he had a granddaughter a year older than my youngest, I was pretty much out.

Bachelor #2: This guy was my age, divorced with kids close to my kids' age. Good job and liked things I liked. I met him for coffee and it went well but then after that, nothing much more. It was a bit dry from the start, and I hoped we'd talk more but he only emailed and texted and it never got off the ground so I stopped answering him. He'll be good for someone a lot less chatty than me.

Bachelor #3: He was a lesson in what NOT to do. He emailed and I replied and we already were making each other laugh by then. He called and we talked for 3 nights before we met and it was plain ole fun. We met at lunch and the great repoire continued. He asked if he could kiss me when I was leaving and I told him no. Then I got in the car and he leaned over and kissed me anyway. More calls and opening up about our exes and kids and families. It even worked out for him meeting me out at a live-band event with our kids there, and all went well. He kept saying how great I was, and we talked of a Friday night date the next weekend when we were both kidless. But then as that work week began he seemed a bit stressed about work and issues with his ex and daughter, and less talkative and then he said I wasn't talkative but I didn't think I was acting any different than the week before. I had made the last call on that Tuesday to him during the day to chat as we'd done the few days before. I was so stupid to ask what we might do that Friday night, and he said he hadn't even thought about it yet. But we ended the call in what I thought was good spirits, but he didn't call again that night or the next day or the next. I wasn't calling him again so I wouldn't appear stalkerish. I later thought about our last conversation and me asking about Friday on a Tuesday--that DID seem geeky and a bit desperate. Ugh. Rookie mistake.

Friday came and my BFF Cora and I already hashed out that this guy was a jerk and not considerate enough to check in with me after 3 days of no talking to either cancel the date or confirm it. I still had hope because he had been such a fun guy and I thought we had something starting. But noon came and went and then I began to think, well this is just RUDE. At 4:30pm, he calls. Starts right in with what a shitty week he's had and that he wouldn't be good company and he just needs to stay in tonight. No big surprise for me, but how do I handle it? Act shocked and/or pissed, or cool and aloof? I chose cool and aloof. Told him jokingly not to blame me for his female bosses irrationality and his ex-wife's bitchiness. That I'd been "nothing but nice"...ha...ha...ha...<<<< this was said jokingly but is typed sarcastically, as in, WTF, you are in a bad mood so you prefer to go wallow in it over going out with a cool chick (that'd be me) and having fun and forgetting your troubles? He said we'd have to "try again", and I said alright I'll talk to you later VERY non-chalantly. But in my head I was saying, Hey dude, go EF Yourself....that's what I wanted to say, sure, but nah...HE AIN'T WORTH IT. Girls! Did you hear me on this one? NO GUY is worth allowing them to pull this crap, especially when you are in the "getting to know you so you better fake the nice guy crap to me for as long as you can" phase.

Too many other profiles to scan...

Bachelor #4: So far-so good with this guy. Experienced as I am now, after 3 other whole meet-n-greets, he's doing everything right so far. No, its not fireworks and sex-talk quite yet, but he's interesting, likes skiing and cycling (BONUS!), is unattached from his ex by 6 years, and has a child who he puts first. We emailed quite a bit before talking on the phone, where not overly too much was shared, but a date for coffee was agreed upon. An email the day before the coffee-date was sent by him to check in with me and confirm the coffee-date, and the coffee-date happened as advertised. That went well, an hour, not too long, and we left each other with only a hug. I worried that couldve been it but by the time I checked my email a few hours later, he'd written a "Follow-up" letter to say thanks for meeting him and hopes to get together soon.

Yay Mr. Nice Guy...you're doing great!