single white female. seeks single *any ethnicity* male. for long talks to quickly figure out if it's something worth pursuing because I AM OLD.
I remember looking through the personal ads at my grandma's house in the newspaper when I realized that they were. I tried to figure out what the acronyms meant and marveled at the "missed connections" section, wondering how people would ever know if they were the person in the produce aisle you smiled at a week ago.
lately, I've been thinking more and more about this whole single life I've lived for most of my adult years now. as a mom now, it adds a whole other layer to dating which I'm well aware of and know I made the choice to become- but it doesn't meant I don't want or deserve a partner nonetheless!
as a woman, a thought in my mind all the time is I want someone to pursue me. I want someone to take interest, make an effort, and go out of their way to let me know they're interested in me. as a woman in 2018, I fear this is never going to happen. many of my friends have also made it clear they would not be married now if they had waited for this to happen ;) but, I have a bold personality type and take charge in most situations and dream of being able to not have to take charge in this one (albeit major) role.
I've tried online dating. I'm not a huge fan. I have actually gone on a couple of dates in the last year and they were perfectly nice and for one reason or several never went anywhere. however, for someone in a female dominated field who often spends the most time with her couch at the end of a long work day and not out in the world, online dating makes sense. the pool of men on online, however, leaves much wanting. I kept thinking, if one more guy posts a shirtless mirror selfie or a picture of him holding a fish, I'm deleting my account. it happened. I deleted my account.
so here I sit. in a position I didn't "choose" to be in (single) but nonetheless have remained in for years. so much so that most of my friends only know of me in this way. so much so that people don't even ask anymore about it because it's always the same. so much so that I've now created my realistic personal ad.
I'm looking for someone who is honest, loves God, works hard, has good teeth, takes care of themselves physically, is taller than me, wants children (duh), doesn't smoke or do drugs, only responsibly drinks, and will go to the park to play and leave the chores at home for later. I'm ready to listen to someone's troubles and care and remember details about their life and check in to see how they are. to get to know someone's family and see all the connections they've built and see the kaleidoscope of what they mean to other people and how their life has impacted them. I want to lay on my sectional lazily watching Netflix with the captions on- with someone. I want to run errands and leave my daughter in the car while I pick up pizza because there's someone I trust in the car with her. I want someone to tag me out and say "you look tired- I'm doing the dishes tonight" or taking a turn having Bee label body parts on them so I can breathe and not be touched constantly. I want to notice new gray hairs in someone or when they gain 5 pounds over the holidays and reassure them it doesn't change a relationship or who they are as a person. I want to travel to Greece and New York City and Mexico and explore with someone I care deeply enough about to make it worth leaving my daughter for these trips. I want to have matching family Halloween costumes. I want to have a strong male figure in Bee's life that will hopefully, someday, eventually, be somebody she can call Daddy. I want someone to put their hand in my back pocket like Peter Kavinsky (TATBILB always). I want to love, and be loved.
Sunday, October 28, 2018
Saturday, October 6, 2018
the 12 month box
last night I had my parents take Bee for a sleepover. it's been a long week at work, allergies are getting me down, I'm not sleeping well, and she's always on the go- I needed a break. my mom is much more of an emotional person than I am and when I asked if they would watch her she said I should spend my time alone essentially, having a good cry. I am not a crier at all, and responded that I really just wanted to go to the bathroom alone and get to sleep in.
I laid around on the couch for a couple hours and then found myself cleaning until 12:30AM. the main thing I wanted to take care of was putting away all of her 12 month clothes, along with putting her bottles and extra pacifiers in storage. yep- after almost 19 months, my baby had her last bottle on Wednesday. she's been on Nutramigen (a fairly expensive formula) and then on Nutramigen Toddler the past few months due to a milk sensitivity and slow weight gain, so the doctors wanted her to stay on it until 18 months for the extra calories. we were running out and I could sense it was more of a habit than a need for her anyways, so I did a slow wean and then the next morning when she woke up asking for "bottle" immediately as she always does, I said "(soy) milk instead!" and she was fine with it.
putting away those bottles was sad. I loved snuggling with her feeding her- even up until the end it was a sure way to get her to sit still and cuddle into my arms. I love meeting her needs and knowing she feels safe in our home and that she'll always have love and food here. wouldn't you know it, I did cry packing away those bottles.
what was sadder though, and even harder, was packing up the 12 month box.
Bee has been in 12 month clothes since right around her 1st birthday. it's been almost 7 months, and she's finally grown enough to fit into (most of) her 18 month clothes. packing away her smaller clothes reminded me how hard I fought with doctors, how many times I asked "why won't she eat?" only to be given no answers, how many times I have been told "she's so small!" that it's now my follow-up mantra when people ask how old she is..."19 months and YES she's tiny". her weight is finally at 20 pounds, although her height isn't quite as fast to increase and she's now in the 1st percentile for her age in this.
but beyond the size issue, packing up the 12 month box packed up memories. when she started wearing these clothes, I had finally just started having all the hope for our future I felt I never could before. some of these outfits were bought by my friends when I started fostering- outfits my first placement never got to wear that I didn't know at first if I would have Bee long enough to see her in them! outfits I don't know if I'll ever see on a baby again- because that would mean I'd either be fostering again, or having my own children, and neither of those looks like part of my imminent future.
some day, in the future, I'd love to capture this entire process. to tell you what it feels like to be someone's Mama, but to have to answer that you're the "foster mom". to spell her last name a million times at appointments and cry the first time you see it typed up with your last name. to get your hope up that this time the paperwork and the process will work quickly, only to find out it won't.
the 12 month clothes are packed up now. the bottles are put away. I have been her mama her whole life, and eventually I'll get to introduce you officially to my daughter- hopefully before the 18 month box is packed up too.
I laid around on the couch for a couple hours and then found myself cleaning until 12:30AM. the main thing I wanted to take care of was putting away all of her 12 month clothes, along with putting her bottles and extra pacifiers in storage. yep- after almost 19 months, my baby had her last bottle on Wednesday. she's been on Nutramigen (a fairly expensive formula) and then on Nutramigen Toddler the past few months due to a milk sensitivity and slow weight gain, so the doctors wanted her to stay on it until 18 months for the extra calories. we were running out and I could sense it was more of a habit than a need for her anyways, so I did a slow wean and then the next morning when she woke up asking for "bottle" immediately as she always does, I said "(soy) milk instead!" and she was fine with it.
putting away those bottles was sad. I loved snuggling with her feeding her- even up until the end it was a sure way to get her to sit still and cuddle into my arms. I love meeting her needs and knowing she feels safe in our home and that she'll always have love and food here. wouldn't you know it, I did cry packing away those bottles.what was sadder though, and even harder, was packing up the 12 month box.
Bee has been in 12 month clothes since right around her 1st birthday. it's been almost 7 months, and she's finally grown enough to fit into (most of) her 18 month clothes. packing away her smaller clothes reminded me how hard I fought with doctors, how many times I asked "why won't she eat?" only to be given no answers, how many times I have been told "she's so small!" that it's now my follow-up mantra when people ask how old she is..."19 months and YES she's tiny". her weight is finally at 20 pounds, although her height isn't quite as fast to increase and she's now in the 1st percentile for her age in this.
but beyond the size issue, packing up the 12 month box packed up memories. when she started wearing these clothes, I had finally just started having all the hope for our future I felt I never could before. some of these outfits were bought by my friends when I started fostering- outfits my first placement never got to wear that I didn't know at first if I would have Bee long enough to see her in them! outfits I don't know if I'll ever see on a baby again- because that would mean I'd either be fostering again, or having my own children, and neither of those looks like part of my imminent future.
some day, in the future, I'd love to capture this entire process. to tell you what it feels like to be someone's Mama, but to have to answer that you're the "foster mom". to spell her last name a million times at appointments and cry the first time you see it typed up with your last name. to get your hope up that this time the paperwork and the process will work quickly, only to find out it won't.
the 12 month clothes are packed up now. the bottles are put away. I have been her mama her whole life, and eventually I'll get to introduce you officially to my daughter- hopefully before the 18 month box is packed up too.
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