DEEEP breaths. I'm PollyAnna. I am strong and brave and optimistic, even in the face of adversity.
Ultrasound tomorrow, then we will rule this out as fat necrosis or something else that is boring and non-malignant, and I can move on.
I am busy living my life. I have things to do. This is not my new cancer life, this is my fabulous life where cancer and divorce are behind me. Right? Right!
Thank you for your continued prayers. That little spot under my right breast (in the survivor world we call them foobs - fake boobs; I had a double mastectomy) is NOTHING. I will it to be so.
And I'm praying. Thanks for your continued thoughts, prayers, and good wishes.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Damnit.
I'm home from the oncologist. There's a weird spot under my "good" breast, and I need follow up.
Bring on the panic attacks.
It's "probably nothing." But when you've heard that before and then you have 16 rounds of chemotherapy, 33 rounds of radiation, fifteen surgeries, and a LOT of side-effect-inducing scary meds for six years, well, "probably nothing" isn't enough to bring my blood pressure down.
So, I'm scheduling an ultrasound. If you pray, please pray for me. If you don't pray, consider it. I also take white light, thoughts, karma, candle-lighting, and good wishes.
It is hard for me to function when I go down this path. I've been down this path before. Sometimes it ends with surgery (twice so far).
There's a lesson in this, there's something for me. Okay, life, I'm listening.
I'm so tired.
Bring on the panic attacks.
It's "probably nothing." But when you've heard that before and then you have 16 rounds of chemotherapy, 33 rounds of radiation, fifteen surgeries, and a LOT of side-effect-inducing scary meds for six years, well, "probably nothing" isn't enough to bring my blood pressure down.
So, I'm scheduling an ultrasound. If you pray, please pray for me. If you don't pray, consider it. I also take white light, thoughts, karma, candle-lighting, and good wishes.
It is hard for me to function when I go down this path. I've been down this path before. Sometimes it ends with surgery (twice so far).
There's a lesson in this, there's something for me. Okay, life, I'm listening.
I'm so tired.
Breathing
Yes, I'm back to breathing exercises.
Today is my annual appointment with my oncologist. Walking in the building makes me shake slightly - and I don't mean that as a metaphor. My heart races, and when they take my blood pressure they will say "WHAT?!" and I will have them check my chart, because the chart will show that my blood pressure is high every time I go there, but not when I go to the endocrinologist to get my thyroid checked, or to my G.P. to have my annual exam or whatnot. The building where I had chemo and radiation puts a pit in my stomach.
Today it's a bit harder than usual because after my appointment I'm going to sit in the chemo area with a friend of mine who was diagnosed recently. Today is her second chemo treatment. It makes me ill to think of what she's going through, and as I typed that sentence my stomach lurched.
Deep breaths.
Work is a bit crazy right now and it's up to me to rein it in. All is well ,but a lot of balls in the air, a lot of decisions to be made, a lot of work to be done.
Deep breaths.
This weekend I'm going skiing for the first time in more than a decade, and introducing Katherine to the sport. I'm excited - this is what I want for us, physical activity outside, gaining skills, having fun, being with friends - but frankly I'm so worn out that the idea of just packing the car for the trip makes me want to cry! I'll get there, and I'll figure it out....but it's wearing.
Deep breaths.
And I'm taking a little break from dating. I went on three dates in just over a week, but I cancelled the next one, because it's all taking too much energy. I was right and Mr. Chocolate sent me the let-down message, and in his message he confessed that he'd sent me mixed signals and that he was "really crappy at communication and stuff" and I felt a huge sense of relief because I'd dodged that bullet. I don't want an man who needs to be taught how to communicate with the world, and he was right, mixed signals galore and terrible communication. A good guy, but proof that he's not my guy.
Deep breaths.
So, off I am, going about my day. Tired. Worried. Busy. I did my morning run. I got my girl out the door. I wore my new dress, that feels so good when I put it on, so that when I walk into that chemo ward I will be tap tapping in my high heels, and it will be clear that I DO NOT BELONG THERE. My long hair brushes my brastrap, and my outfit declares I AM A WOMAN WITH CONFIDENCE AND STYLE, and not I'm sick and hurting.
Deep breaths. Off I go.
Today is my annual appointment with my oncologist. Walking in the building makes me shake slightly - and I don't mean that as a metaphor. My heart races, and when they take my blood pressure they will say "WHAT?!" and I will have them check my chart, because the chart will show that my blood pressure is high every time I go there, but not when I go to the endocrinologist to get my thyroid checked, or to my G.P. to have my annual exam or whatnot. The building where I had chemo and radiation puts a pit in my stomach.
Today it's a bit harder than usual because after my appointment I'm going to sit in the chemo area with a friend of mine who was diagnosed recently. Today is her second chemo treatment. It makes me ill to think of what she's going through, and as I typed that sentence my stomach lurched.
Deep breaths.
Work is a bit crazy right now and it's up to me to rein it in. All is well ,but a lot of balls in the air, a lot of decisions to be made, a lot of work to be done.
Deep breaths.
This weekend I'm going skiing for the first time in more than a decade, and introducing Katherine to the sport. I'm excited - this is what I want for us, physical activity outside, gaining skills, having fun, being with friends - but frankly I'm so worn out that the idea of just packing the car for the trip makes me want to cry! I'll get there, and I'll figure it out....but it's wearing.
Deep breaths.
And I'm taking a little break from dating. I went on three dates in just over a week, but I cancelled the next one, because it's all taking too much energy. I was right and Mr. Chocolate sent me the let-down message, and in his message he confessed that he'd sent me mixed signals and that he was "really crappy at communication and stuff" and I felt a huge sense of relief because I'd dodged that bullet. I don't want an man who needs to be taught how to communicate with the world, and he was right, mixed signals galore and terrible communication. A good guy, but proof that he's not my guy.
Deep breaths.
So, off I am, going about my day. Tired. Worried. Busy. I did my morning run. I got my girl out the door. I wore my new dress, that feels so good when I put it on, so that when I walk into that chemo ward I will be tap tapping in my high heels, and it will be clear that I DO NOT BELONG THERE. My long hair brushes my brastrap, and my outfit declares I AM A WOMAN WITH CONFIDENCE AND STYLE, and not I'm sick and hurting.
Deep breaths. Off I go.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Rejection
All these posts in one day....
This evening I am contemplating rejection: both giving it and receive it. I'm feeling like Mr. Chocolate's lack of response today is likely a rejection (especially because I logged into OkCupid and saw that he was online, but I haven't heard from him), and I've also handed out some rejection myself.
I've gotten used to rejecting strangers to the degree where it's not too hard: the creepy guys get ignored, the cut-and-paste intro messages get ignored; the thoughtful guys that still don't interest me receive a direct response that thanks them for their message, tells them it's not a match, and wishes them well.
But today I had to reject a nice man that I'd met in person - Mr. Vanilla. He's one of the good guys, will likely make some woman a very nice girlfriend, but he isn't for me. Some of it is timing - he's mourning the results of his divorce, and maybe it would be different for me if he were in a different stage of things. But some of it is just pure chemistry, of which I felt none.
What is it with chemistry? I can just feel it - before a word is spoken. And I don't just mean good looking people or sexual chemistry...it's something else. I've had chemistry with ordinary looking men, and I've had no chemistry with handsome men (although of course chemistry with a handsome man is very nice). It's either there, or it isn't, and nothing I can do can create it if it doesn't exist in its own right.
(Case in point: Bryan. I felt no chemistry whatsoever when I met him. I created it. Look how that turned out! Great kid, terrible relationship. I'm done having kids, so I think it's safe to keep to the guys who have chemistry now.)
I suspect that the silence, or even the hesitation, from Chocolate is that he's not feeling chemistry. That's too bad, because he's the first person I've met in person where there was still chemistry, and it was very pleasant - not mind blowing, but pleasant.
But this post - bringing it back - is about rejection, and I have decided that chemistry and rejection are directly related. I have turned down multiple "nice guys" because there just isn't chemistry, and I've been turned down online (and now perhaps here, in person, with Chocolate) because they don't feel chemistry with me.
And here's what I'm leading up to:
It's okay.
I would love it if everyone flocked to me and I got to pick anyone I wanted and have perfect chemistry, but let's face it, that would be very time consuming and I don't have that kind of time. Chemistry is elusive, and that is what makes it special.
I believe that rejection is just built into the process, and it eliminates the guys who do not see how wonderful and amazing I am. Every single person on the planet deserves to be deemed wonderful and amazing - "a catch" if you will - and if a guy doesn't see me that way, then I don't want him in my life. I don't want to date guys who think I'm "nice", I want to date guys who feel like I'm something really special.
So, when someone rejects me, or I reject someone, the message isn't "you suck and you don't deserve love." I think the message is, "I'm not the one - the chemistry isn't there. Hold out for someone with whom you create sparks!"
I'm holding out for sparks. A whole bonfire, actually. No, the sun. Supernovas. Meteor showers. Aurora borealis. I want it all, and if I don't inspire anything close to a flame in someone, then they're doing a favor if they back off, because they're freeing me to find what I really want. And when I "reject" a nice guy, I'm not dismissing his worth, I'm freeing him to find the girl of his dreams. I know it's not me, because I'm just not that into him - and the girl of his dreams should definitely be into him.
Nobody likes to be rejected. Not me, either. But there really is something powerful and amazing in a rejection, as it's so much kinder than being strung along or accepting less than one deserves.
So, tonight, no Chocolate for me, and I've said goodbye to Vanilla. Both of them stung a little - I'm not used to telling good guys that it won't work, I'm used to making things work with what I'm given - but ultimately, I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track. It feels right....and that's its own kind of chemistry.
This evening I am contemplating rejection: both giving it and receive it. I'm feeling like Mr. Chocolate's lack of response today is likely a rejection (especially because I logged into OkCupid and saw that he was online, but I haven't heard from him), and I've also handed out some rejection myself.
I've gotten used to rejecting strangers to the degree where it's not too hard: the creepy guys get ignored, the cut-and-paste intro messages get ignored; the thoughtful guys that still don't interest me receive a direct response that thanks them for their message, tells them it's not a match, and wishes them well.
But today I had to reject a nice man that I'd met in person - Mr. Vanilla. He's one of the good guys, will likely make some woman a very nice girlfriend, but he isn't for me. Some of it is timing - he's mourning the results of his divorce, and maybe it would be different for me if he were in a different stage of things. But some of it is just pure chemistry, of which I felt none.
What is it with chemistry? I can just feel it - before a word is spoken. And I don't just mean good looking people or sexual chemistry...it's something else. I've had chemistry with ordinary looking men, and I've had no chemistry with handsome men (although of course chemistry with a handsome man is very nice). It's either there, or it isn't, and nothing I can do can create it if it doesn't exist in its own right.
(Case in point: Bryan. I felt no chemistry whatsoever when I met him. I created it. Look how that turned out! Great kid, terrible relationship. I'm done having kids, so I think it's safe to keep to the guys who have chemistry now.)
I suspect that the silence, or even the hesitation, from Chocolate is that he's not feeling chemistry. That's too bad, because he's the first person I've met in person where there was still chemistry, and it was very pleasant - not mind blowing, but pleasant.
But this post - bringing it back - is about rejection, and I have decided that chemistry and rejection are directly related. I have turned down multiple "nice guys" because there just isn't chemistry, and I've been turned down online (and now perhaps here, in person, with Chocolate) because they don't feel chemistry with me.
And here's what I'm leading up to:
It's okay.
I would love it if everyone flocked to me and I got to pick anyone I wanted and have perfect chemistry, but let's face it, that would be very time consuming and I don't have that kind of time. Chemistry is elusive, and that is what makes it special.
I believe that rejection is just built into the process, and it eliminates the guys who do not see how wonderful and amazing I am. Every single person on the planet deserves to be deemed wonderful and amazing - "a catch" if you will - and if a guy doesn't see me that way, then I don't want him in my life. I don't want to date guys who think I'm "nice", I want to date guys who feel like I'm something really special.
So, when someone rejects me, or I reject someone, the message isn't "you suck and you don't deserve love." I think the message is, "I'm not the one - the chemistry isn't there. Hold out for someone with whom you create sparks!"
I'm holding out for sparks. A whole bonfire, actually. No, the sun. Supernovas. Meteor showers. Aurora borealis. I want it all, and if I don't inspire anything close to a flame in someone, then they're doing a favor if they back off, because they're freeing me to find what I really want. And when I "reject" a nice guy, I'm not dismissing his worth, I'm freeing him to find the girl of his dreams. I know it's not me, because I'm just not that into him - and the girl of his dreams should definitely be into him.
Nobody likes to be rejected. Not me, either. But there really is something powerful and amazing in a rejection, as it's so much kinder than being strung along or accepting less than one deserves.
So, tonight, no Chocolate for me, and I've said goodbye to Vanilla. Both of them stung a little - I'm not used to telling good guys that it won't work, I'm used to making things work with what I'm given - but ultimately, I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track. It feels right....and that's its own kind of chemistry.
Irony
I got a message from Mr. Chocolate saying he has to postpone, and my gut says that he's getting cold feet. But I got a message from Mr. Vanilla saying he'd like to see me again.
Ah well.
Mr. I-don't-know-yet and I are supposed to get together soon to go to an art museum.
But frankly I'm kind of worn out from all of it, and feeling a bit of a need to duck under the covers and rest a bit. All is well, I'm not sad or depressed or upset.... all of this is just tiring me out!
Ah well.
Mr. I-don't-know-yet and I are supposed to get together soon to go to an art museum.
But frankly I'm kind of worn out from all of it, and feeling a bit of a need to duck under the covers and rest a bit. All is well, I'm not sad or depressed or upset.... all of this is just tiring me out!
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Clearly insane
I can talk the talk, but tonight I struggle to walk the walk.
Mr. Chocolate hasn't contacted me this evening, and my mind goes to the worst. He was just being polite, and there wasn't really a connection. And that means that nobody will ever like me and I will be alone forever and I will never have sex again because I'm horribly unattractive and unlikeable. All this for a guy I talked to for an hour THIS MORNING.
Umm, right. That is the kind of crazy I'm talking about here. The kind of thinking that, if my daughter said it, would send me through the roof with frustration because it's crazy talk.
So, the good news:
I have no intention of texting or emailing him to check in, possibly repeatedly, because that's a horrible idea.
I went ahead and made a date with someone completely different, even though part of me wants to explore the possibilities with Mr. Chocolate and set aside others, because that's crazy talk, and the new guy looks interesting, too.
I'm remembering that guys don't define me, etc. etc., even though these crazy thoughts are goign through my head.
Seriously, am I hormonal? I'm behaving like an adolescent girl? Well, not quite....I'm only THINKING like an adolescent girl. Fortunately, I'm still behaving like a woman in control. (Except here, where I tell you everything. But you won't tell on me, will you? Thanks.)
Mr. Chocolate hasn't contacted me this evening, and my mind goes to the worst. He was just being polite, and there wasn't really a connection. And that means that nobody will ever like me and I will be alone forever and I will never have sex again because I'm horribly unattractive and unlikeable. All this for a guy I talked to for an hour THIS MORNING.
Umm, right. That is the kind of crazy I'm talking about here. The kind of thinking that, if my daughter said it, would send me through the roof with frustration because it's crazy talk.
So, the good news:
I have no intention of texting or emailing him to check in, possibly repeatedly, because that's a horrible idea.
I went ahead and made a date with someone completely different, even though part of me wants to explore the possibilities with Mr. Chocolate and set aside others, because that's crazy talk, and the new guy looks interesting, too.
I'm remembering that guys don't define me, etc. etc., even though these crazy thoughts are goign through my head.
Seriously, am I hormonal? I'm behaving like an adolescent girl? Well, not quite....I'm only THINKING like an adolescent girl. Fortunately, I'm still behaving like a woman in control. (Except here, where I tell you everything. But you won't tell on me, will you? Thanks.)
Chocolate and Vanilla
Date number two was vanilla. Very pleasant, and I had a nice time.
Date number one might have been chocolate (my favorite, but not a reference to race or anything other than delicious desserts). It left me wanting more....
And we made plans to see one another again on Wednesday for dinner!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This will be my first second date since re-entering the dating pool. He was more attractive in person than in his photos - now there is a first! But he's also kind, thoughtful, and interesting. I fear I babbled on (and on and on and on) but it felt comfortable anyway. I am awaiting his next move, with locations etc. on email, and we'll see where it goes from there.
And there is a third gentleman who has come on the scene, who has invited me to visit the art museum with him.
I'm baaaaa-aaaack!
*****
Silly ego boosts aside, I don't forget a few things:
1) I need to move slowly. I've learned a lot over the years, and I can't throw it all out in a rush of hormones.
2) Anything could happen, including nothing. Only time will tell. He could get cold feet, or the second date might reveal his penchant for wearing women's underwear, or who knows what.
3) I am not what these men think of me, positive or negative.
Feeling happy. :-)
I'll keep you tuned.
Date number one might have been chocolate (my favorite, but not a reference to race or anything other than delicious desserts). It left me wanting more....
And we made plans to see one another again on Wednesday for dinner!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This will be my first second date since re-entering the dating pool. He was more attractive in person than in his photos - now there is a first! But he's also kind, thoughtful, and interesting. I fear I babbled on (and on and on and on) but it felt comfortable anyway. I am awaiting his next move, with locations etc. on email, and we'll see where it goes from there.
And there is a third gentleman who has come on the scene, who has invited me to visit the art museum with him.
I'm baaaaa-aaaack!
*****
Silly ego boosts aside, I don't forget a few things:
1) I need to move slowly. I've learned a lot over the years, and I can't throw it all out in a rush of hormones.
2) Anything could happen, including nothing. Only time will tell. He could get cold feet, or the second date might reveal his penchant for wearing women's underwear, or who knows what.
3) I am not what these men think of me, positive or negative.
Feeling happy. :-)
I'll keep you tuned.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Double dipping
Okay, pardon me for laughing, but I can't stop. I've got the giggles, actually.
I have not one but TWO dates tomorrow.
Me! Two dates. TWO!
Just coffee. But both guys seem like good people, generally suit what I'm looking for.
It's good for a girl's ego, I tell you.
*****
But tonight I also tackled a giant stack of paperwork, paid bills, checked out my bank balance and my budget after studiously avoiding them for a while. A quiet evening at home is just what I needed, and my house appreciated a little TLC, and I'm feeling more on top of my business.
I am feeling pretty darned good.
*****
Two dates. In one day. Who would have thought it?!
I have not one but TWO dates tomorrow.
Me! Two dates. TWO!
Just coffee. But both guys seem like good people, generally suit what I'm looking for.
It's good for a girl's ego, I tell you.
*****
But tonight I also tackled a giant stack of paperwork, paid bills, checked out my bank balance and my budget after studiously avoiding them for a while. A quiet evening at home is just what I needed, and my house appreciated a little TLC, and I'm feeling more on top of my business.
I am feeling pretty darned good.
*****
Two dates. In one day. Who would have thought it?!
Boy Crazy
I am having an awful lot of fun being boy-crazy lately. But my forty-something boy-craziness is very different that the boy-craziness of my youth - I think mostly because I have a sense of humor about it, and because none of my self worth is tied up in the results.
As I've mentioned here before, when I was younger I would agonize over men's responses to me. If they didn't like me, I was sure that it was because I was flawed, unattractive, and unlovable: I thought I was unworthy of love, and that the fact that some guy wasn't into me was absolute proof of that.
Yuck. And would you want to date someone who felt like that about him/herself? I'm sure that the signals I sent out were needy....and worse. I talked the talk, but I didn't walk the walk. I chased after guys that I didn't even really like that much, because it made me feel good about myself (or at least less bad about myself) if they changed their minds and decided that they liked me after all. Needless to say, that didn't create rock-solid foundations for relationships!
Worst of all, I had no idea I was doing it that way, and I would have argued all day that I wasn't behaving that way. I would have been wrong.
So, fast forward twenty years, and things are different. I've had some pretty serious tests in my life, cancer first among them, and I know a thing or two about myself. I wouldn't recommend cancer as a way of finding yourself, but I suppose that it's better than not finding yourself at all. Cancer brought out all kinds of things in me, and I started to hear - round the clock, even when I wasn't doing anything to prove anything to anyone, merely trying to fight for my life and be there for my daughter - that I was an inspiration. That I was strong and courageous. That I was amazing.
After a while, I think I finally started to see it in myself. It was that belief in myself that ultimately allowed me to walk away from my broken marriage, even though I didn't have a job, even though I wasn't sure how I was going to make it work. I believed in my own abilities, and knew that I had what it took, even if I wasn't sure what "it" meant.
And it turns out all those things I learned about myself along the way are directly impacting my dating life now, and it's almost comical how the little light goes on in my head - self-knowledge - and how the world seems to notice it right away, and how things happen as a result of that.
I walked out of my divorce feeling twenty pounds lighter. (I jokingly say 250 pounds lighter, corresponding to my ex's (over)weight....) I didn't change anything on my OkCupid profile, but suddenly, corresponding to my feelings about dating, there are men all over the place. Yesterday I got ten - TEN! - OkCupid messages, and several of them were actually from interesting guys. (Attractive men who didn't leak all kinds of baggage across their profiles; literate men who appear to have interesting, together lives.) I've been on the site for about a month, and never received that many messages in a day (excepting perhaps the first week when I was fresh meat on the website, and all the sharks smelled the blood in the water), and not from such high quality men.
Last week's coffee date didn't go anywhere, and I'm okay with that. He was cool, as in not warm, in his interactions - didn't smile enough, didn't have any sparks, even though he was a really good man. We exchanged a couple boring messages afterwards, and we both let it drop. He sent the last message, and I didn't reply, because I don't need to chase anymore to prove anything to myself about my worth.
But my pheremones must be getting through the internet, because there really are plenty more fish in the sea. I have a date tomorrow, and the possibility of two more on the horizon. I don't hold much stock in them, and I have no expectations other than this: I'll learn how to talk to men. I'll keep my dignity. I'll try a new coffee shop or restaurant. I'll learn a bit more about how people tick. I'll have a good time, no matter how it goes. If it clicks? Wow - that would be cool! But if it doesn't? That's a-okay.
If I never meet Mr. Right, I'm still going to have a fantastic life. And if I meet him? Oh, that would be bliss.
So, right now I'm a little boy crazy. I'm having so much fun checking OkCupid to see who has been checking me out, and reading their profiles, and choosing which messages I wish to reply to. I'm a bit giggly about my dates, because it's just plain weird to be dating at this age, but my giggles are out of both the absurdity and the fun of it.
One day, I might meet someone worth a second date.
One day, I might even have sex again!
So pardon me if I'm just a wee bit boy crazy right now.
As I've mentioned here before, when I was younger I would agonize over men's responses to me. If they didn't like me, I was sure that it was because I was flawed, unattractive, and unlovable: I thought I was unworthy of love, and that the fact that some guy wasn't into me was absolute proof of that.
Yuck. And would you want to date someone who felt like that about him/herself? I'm sure that the signals I sent out were needy....and worse. I talked the talk, but I didn't walk the walk. I chased after guys that I didn't even really like that much, because it made me feel good about myself (or at least less bad about myself) if they changed their minds and decided that they liked me after all. Needless to say, that didn't create rock-solid foundations for relationships!
Worst of all, I had no idea I was doing it that way, and I would have argued all day that I wasn't behaving that way. I would have been wrong.
So, fast forward twenty years, and things are different. I've had some pretty serious tests in my life, cancer first among them, and I know a thing or two about myself. I wouldn't recommend cancer as a way of finding yourself, but I suppose that it's better than not finding yourself at all. Cancer brought out all kinds of things in me, and I started to hear - round the clock, even when I wasn't doing anything to prove anything to anyone, merely trying to fight for my life and be there for my daughter - that I was an inspiration. That I was strong and courageous. That I was amazing.
After a while, I think I finally started to see it in myself. It was that belief in myself that ultimately allowed me to walk away from my broken marriage, even though I didn't have a job, even though I wasn't sure how I was going to make it work. I believed in my own abilities, and knew that I had what it took, even if I wasn't sure what "it" meant.
And it turns out all those things I learned about myself along the way are directly impacting my dating life now, and it's almost comical how the little light goes on in my head - self-knowledge - and how the world seems to notice it right away, and how things happen as a result of that.
I walked out of my divorce feeling twenty pounds lighter. (I jokingly say 250 pounds lighter, corresponding to my ex's (over)weight....) I didn't change anything on my OkCupid profile, but suddenly, corresponding to my feelings about dating, there are men all over the place. Yesterday I got ten - TEN! - OkCupid messages, and several of them were actually from interesting guys. (Attractive men who didn't leak all kinds of baggage across their profiles; literate men who appear to have interesting, together lives.) I've been on the site for about a month, and never received that many messages in a day (excepting perhaps the first week when I was fresh meat on the website, and all the sharks smelled the blood in the water), and not from such high quality men.
Last week's coffee date didn't go anywhere, and I'm okay with that. He was cool, as in not warm, in his interactions - didn't smile enough, didn't have any sparks, even though he was a really good man. We exchanged a couple boring messages afterwards, and we both let it drop. He sent the last message, and I didn't reply, because I don't need to chase anymore to prove anything to myself about my worth.
But my pheremones must be getting through the internet, because there really are plenty more fish in the sea. I have a date tomorrow, and the possibility of two more on the horizon. I don't hold much stock in them, and I have no expectations other than this: I'll learn how to talk to men. I'll keep my dignity. I'll try a new coffee shop or restaurant. I'll learn a bit more about how people tick. I'll have a good time, no matter how it goes. If it clicks? Wow - that would be cool! But if it doesn't? That's a-okay.
If I never meet Mr. Right, I'm still going to have a fantastic life. And if I meet him? Oh, that would be bliss.
So, right now I'm a little boy crazy. I'm having so much fun checking OkCupid to see who has been checking me out, and reading their profiles, and choosing which messages I wish to reply to. I'm a bit giggly about my dates, because it's just plain weird to be dating at this age, but my giggles are out of both the absurdity and the fun of it.
One day, I might meet someone worth a second date.
One day, I might even have sex again!
So pardon me if I'm just a wee bit boy crazy right now.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Part II: Life as a Working Mom
Last April I wrote Part I: Life as a Stay At Home Mom, and I told you to stay tuned for Part II: Life as a Working Mom. Well, finally, here it is.
My friends and family have always told me that I have a lot of energy. When I got sick and entered chemo etc., some people joked routinely that now I was behaving like a normal person in terms of how much I got accomplished.
Well, I don't know if that's true. All I know is what needs to be done, and it seems like the list is never ending, and that my energy levels have nothing to do with it most days. I don't allow myself to check in with my own energy levels most days, because it doesn't matter what I feel like doing, things have to be done anyway. Denial is a very powerful tool!
Here's what my day looks like most weekdays:
4:30am - Alarm goes off. Feed cat, feed dog, make coffee, empty dishwasher, put on workout clothes.
5am - Friend(s) arrive to work out. Go for a run, yoga in basement, etc.
6:15am Guzzle coffee. Jump in shower. Put on a dress or skirt and blouse, do hair and teeth etc.
6:45am Climb into Katherine's bed - a challenge, given that she has bunkbeds and I'm wearing career attire - and read to her for 15 minutes to wake her up at a pace we can both manage.
7:00am - Make breakfast while Katherine gets dressed. Prepare lunches for both of us (I bring a salad to work every day, while she prefers tortellini and a piece of fruit). Get her to record the previous night's reading in the reading log, etc.
7:50am - Out the door together. We walk to the corner together, then she turns one way to get to her school bus stop, and I go the other way to get to mine.
8:30am - 5:30pm - Work.
5:30pm - run for the bus, hope I'm not late
6:00pm - get home (sometimes this is 6:10 because of the bus, and so my first words to the nanny are "I'm sorry!"). Walk in the door with aching feet in high heels, kick them off, remove coat, set down laptop bag.....say hello to Katherine and goodbye to the nanny. Katherine's first words to me are usually "What's for dinner?"
6:00-6:45 - clean up breakfast dishes (if the nanny didn't) and make dinner. I aim for something healthy, fresh, and cheap. (Tonight it's leftovers of chicken vegetable soup made earlier in the week, so all I have to do is reheat it - wahoooo! Katherine won't love it but it won't kill her, and I love it.)
6:45pm - Eat, seated at the table with my girl, talk about the day.
7:15pm - Katherine's "free time" while I clean the kitchen, look at the mail, etc. (She clears the plates/loads the dishwasher.) Check in about her homework, make sure she did it while the nanny was here, help her with anything that didn't get done or she had questions about.
8pm - Start getting Katherine ready for bed - bath or shower, PJ's, etc.
8:30pm - I get in my PJ's too, and we both read for a half hour
9:00pm - lights' out for Katherine. Sometimes I run a load of laundry, pay bills, etc, sometimes I read or surf OkCupid. Sometimes I fall asleep with the lights on.
Wednesday nights Katherine is with her dad until 7:30, but he often brings her home at 7. That means that I get a whopping 45-60 minutes to myself, and I usually run an errand downtown or come home and eat something microwaved and then vege in front of the TV for 30 minutes....watching about half of a TV show, usually.
I can not believe how regimented our routines are, and how if they get bumped by 15 minutes everything falls apart. If we get to bed late, even a bit, Katherine moves slower in the morning and is crabby with me and then we risk being late for our buses. If I'm fifteen minutes late coming home in the evening, we're both crabby because we're hungry and tired (and I have to pay the nanny more).
Friday nights I try to do something with friends at one of our homes - order takeout here and the kids watch a movie, or potluck something, etc. Saturdays I try to have fun, even though sometimes all I want to do is sleep, but that's my main day to go hiking or snowshoeing, or go to an event, or get together with friends, or host a party. Sundays I clean the house, make next week's menus, and go grocery shopping and do any other shopping (my girl keeps growing out of her clothes and there are always birthday parties etc.) that needs doing. Plus I teach Sunday school at our UU church in the mornings. I try to be done by 3pm with chores etc. so that I can have some downtime in the evening, and then it's my movie night with Katherine and feels like the only night we don't have a million things to do....but often this is interrupted by real life, such as my parents coming over for dinner or something (and then I feel like the whole week starts from behind).
Every other weekend I don't have Katherine with me, and so instead of pumpkin patches or the science center or sledding I fit in a more adult hike or snowshoeing, or seeing live music, or going to a play. I'm supposed to go skiing this Saturday, but I'm wondering if I should stay home and try to get a bit more organized around here, or possibly just sit in my PJs until noon instead.
If you've made it through this list, then congratulations, because it's not terribly entertaining. It is, however, my reality. It's not glamourous or romantic in the slightest. I don't know how to fit in doctor's appointments or anything even remotely spontenous. I try to fit in writing - either here, in my journal, or even (gasp!) more thoughtful pieces to work on my craft....but it doesn't happen more often than it does.
I have traded feeling like a second class citizen for being in charge of my own destiny. I no longer have much of a garden, and my volunteering is squished to the edges too (the Sunday school thing, and I did the giving tree again, and I'm spending a half day on the school play helping out, and I'm doing the 3-Day this year and must fundraise for that...) instead of being front and center, and there is usually a giant basket of laundry that needs folding and I often hear "mom I don't have any pants" to which I have to say "honey look in the laundry room" and I have outfits that I don't wear even though they're favorites because they need ironing and I just don't have it in me to add ironing to my list (and I don't want ot pay for it at the cleaners). I see my friends more on Facebook than I do in real life.
But it's still worth it.
I'm exhausted, but I'm happy.
For Katherine's birthday, it took every iota of energy in my being to get the presents, wrap them, decorate with streamers and banners, make sure the house was clean for the party, host all those little girls, and feed all of them. Yesterday's after-work dinner was nearly the death of me, but I did it, and she loved it, and that is what matters. I got the cupcakes made (by skipping the workout yesterday) and delivered them to school, and they were a hit.
I don't know how I'll date with a schedule like this. I don't know how I'll feel after years of this - I've really only been doing it full time for less than a year.
But I'm doing it. And I'm proud of it. And it's worth it, even though it's difficult. And I AM finding time for fun, even if it's not as much as I'd wish.
Not glamourous, but it's my life, and I'm glad for it.
My friends and family have always told me that I have a lot of energy. When I got sick and entered chemo etc., some people joked routinely that now I was behaving like a normal person in terms of how much I got accomplished.
Well, I don't know if that's true. All I know is what needs to be done, and it seems like the list is never ending, and that my energy levels have nothing to do with it most days. I don't allow myself to check in with my own energy levels most days, because it doesn't matter what I feel like doing, things have to be done anyway. Denial is a very powerful tool!
Here's what my day looks like most weekdays:
4:30am - Alarm goes off. Feed cat, feed dog, make coffee, empty dishwasher, put on workout clothes.
5am - Friend(s) arrive to work out. Go for a run, yoga in basement, etc.
6:15am Guzzle coffee. Jump in shower. Put on a dress or skirt and blouse, do hair and teeth etc.
6:45am Climb into Katherine's bed - a challenge, given that she has bunkbeds and I'm wearing career attire - and read to her for 15 minutes to wake her up at a pace we can both manage.
7:00am - Make breakfast while Katherine gets dressed. Prepare lunches for both of us (I bring a salad to work every day, while she prefers tortellini and a piece of fruit). Get her to record the previous night's reading in the reading log, etc.
7:50am - Out the door together. We walk to the corner together, then she turns one way to get to her school bus stop, and I go the other way to get to mine.
8:30am - 5:30pm - Work.
5:30pm - run for the bus, hope I'm not late
6:00pm - get home (sometimes this is 6:10 because of the bus, and so my first words to the nanny are "I'm sorry!"). Walk in the door with aching feet in high heels, kick them off, remove coat, set down laptop bag.....say hello to Katherine and goodbye to the nanny. Katherine's first words to me are usually "What's for dinner?"
6:00-6:45 - clean up breakfast dishes (if the nanny didn't) and make dinner. I aim for something healthy, fresh, and cheap. (Tonight it's leftovers of chicken vegetable soup made earlier in the week, so all I have to do is reheat it - wahoooo! Katherine won't love it but it won't kill her, and I love it.)
6:45pm - Eat, seated at the table with my girl, talk about the day.
7:15pm - Katherine's "free time" while I clean the kitchen, look at the mail, etc. (She clears the plates/loads the dishwasher.) Check in about her homework, make sure she did it while the nanny was here, help her with anything that didn't get done or she had questions about.
8pm - Start getting Katherine ready for bed - bath or shower, PJ's, etc.
8:30pm - I get in my PJ's too, and we both read for a half hour
9:00pm - lights' out for Katherine. Sometimes I run a load of laundry, pay bills, etc, sometimes I read or surf OkCupid. Sometimes I fall asleep with the lights on.
Wednesday nights Katherine is with her dad until 7:30, but he often brings her home at 7. That means that I get a whopping 45-60 minutes to myself, and I usually run an errand downtown or come home and eat something microwaved and then vege in front of the TV for 30 minutes....watching about half of a TV show, usually.
I can not believe how regimented our routines are, and how if they get bumped by 15 minutes everything falls apart. If we get to bed late, even a bit, Katherine moves slower in the morning and is crabby with me and then we risk being late for our buses. If I'm fifteen minutes late coming home in the evening, we're both crabby because we're hungry and tired (and I have to pay the nanny more).
Friday nights I try to do something with friends at one of our homes - order takeout here and the kids watch a movie, or potluck something, etc. Saturdays I try to have fun, even though sometimes all I want to do is sleep, but that's my main day to go hiking or snowshoeing, or go to an event, or get together with friends, or host a party. Sundays I clean the house, make next week's menus, and go grocery shopping and do any other shopping (my girl keeps growing out of her clothes and there are always birthday parties etc.) that needs doing. Plus I teach Sunday school at our UU church in the mornings. I try to be done by 3pm with chores etc. so that I can have some downtime in the evening, and then it's my movie night with Katherine and feels like the only night we don't have a million things to do....but often this is interrupted by real life, such as my parents coming over for dinner or something (and then I feel like the whole week starts from behind).
Every other weekend I don't have Katherine with me, and so instead of pumpkin patches or the science center or sledding I fit in a more adult hike or snowshoeing, or seeing live music, or going to a play. I'm supposed to go skiing this Saturday, but I'm wondering if I should stay home and try to get a bit more organized around here, or possibly just sit in my PJs until noon instead.
If you've made it through this list, then congratulations, because it's not terribly entertaining. It is, however, my reality. It's not glamourous or romantic in the slightest. I don't know how to fit in doctor's appointments or anything even remotely spontenous. I try to fit in writing - either here, in my journal, or even (gasp!) more thoughtful pieces to work on my craft....but it doesn't happen more often than it does.
I have traded feeling like a second class citizen for being in charge of my own destiny. I no longer have much of a garden, and my volunteering is squished to the edges too (the Sunday school thing, and I did the giving tree again, and I'm spending a half day on the school play helping out, and I'm doing the 3-Day this year and must fundraise for that...) instead of being front and center, and there is usually a giant basket of laundry that needs folding and I often hear "mom I don't have any pants" to which I have to say "honey look in the laundry room" and I have outfits that I don't wear even though they're favorites because they need ironing and I just don't have it in me to add ironing to my list (and I don't want ot pay for it at the cleaners). I see my friends more on Facebook than I do in real life.
But it's still worth it.
I'm exhausted, but I'm happy.
For Katherine's birthday, it took every iota of energy in my being to get the presents, wrap them, decorate with streamers and banners, make sure the house was clean for the party, host all those little girls, and feed all of them. Yesterday's after-work dinner was nearly the death of me, but I did it, and she loved it, and that is what matters. I got the cupcakes made (by skipping the workout yesterday) and delivered them to school, and they were a hit.
I don't know how I'll date with a schedule like this. I don't know how I'll feel after years of this - I've really only been doing it full time for less than a year.
But I'm doing it. And I'm proud of it. And it's worth it, even though it's difficult. And I AM finding time for fun, even if it's not as much as I'd wish.
Not glamourous, but it's my life, and I'm glad for it.
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