Filed under Poems, Uncategorized by on Feb 9th, 2011. Comment. 
Last month I was shopping at Anthropologie with my mom for christmas gifts. As I was browsing through the sale racks, I stumbled upon the most gorgeous little black, strappless dress I had ever seen. It was just perfect! I had to try it on. Of course I had no reason to buy this dress, but when I looked at myself in the mirror, I was determined to find a reason to wear it. If only I had a date for New Years Eve, I would buy this dress. Of course, my dating life has pretty much consisted of…well…there was that one guy last spring? Actually I really haven’t dated since my separation, aside from a couple dates here and there. In other words, it has been a LONG time. Looking at myself in the mirror convinced me that next year would be the year I would finally get back out there. If only I could celebrate New Years Eve with someone who appreciated my effort to put on makeup and high heeled shoes, and a pretty dress I would buy this in a second. But I knew the chances of that were slim to none, simply for the fact that it is so impossible to meet people these days. I mean seriously, where are you suppossed to meet someone? A bar? Been there, done that, not going back. Should I hold out hope that I’ll just bump into someone at the bookstore? Not likely. Especially not in the two weeks that were left before New Years.
Despite the fact that I had absolutely no reason to buy it, the dress came home with me, as well as the desire to get out and meet some new people. I could always return the dress later, right? Dating may not be a part of my little perfect bubble where I exist as a mother and a nanny, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be. I was not anyone’s girlfriend, or partner, and until I tried on that dress, that I thought about the fact that the only person I’d be kissing at midnight for like the 3rd year in a row was my sweet son. And, as much as I love that, a part of me was beginning to miss having someone special in my life. Honestly, it has taken me 3 years to get to this point.
So, what did I do? I did as any modern woman would…I posted a profile of myself on an online dating site. For the first time as a single mother I put myself out into the “dating” world. Three weeks later, and 4 days before New Years Eve all I had achieved were many strange emails from guys not really interested in getting to know *me*, but wanting to tell me all about themselves. I even went out one night for drinks with someone who could hold a decent conversation, but there was not spark a bit of chemistry between us. I began to realize that I wasn’t actually going to find a date worthy of my special dress for New Years. But I was okay with that, because I realized that I really didn’t want to go out just to go out, what I discovered on this search for a date was that honestly I didn’t want to get involved in the “dating” world. I had no desire to go out on ten dates in one month trying to hold off talking about the really “interesting” topics such as politics or spirituality. God forbid we talk about anything of any substance. I honestly don’t know how two people are supposed to figure out if they have anything in common, if you have to filter your conversation topics. I had no desire to keep browsing from one single guy to the next. Sometimes online dating reminds me of window shopping, looking through the profiles, judging based on a few words and a picture: too old, not tall enough, not interested in the same things, doesn’t want kids, talks too much about beer, or my favorite: still considers playing video games at 38 a regular hobby? I’m sorry to those of you readers who are avid video game players, but I don’t think it is too much to ask to meet someone who enjoys spending time in reality. Ya know, outside, in the sunshine, sitting by a lake, going for a hike, appreciating the amazing view from the top of a mountain. Seems simple in my mind.
Eventually New Years Eve came and I enjoyed it at home watching a Bollywood flick. The day before or so, I started emailing someone online, and didn’t hold anything back in my conversations. I was completely up front and honest, because I knew I didn’t want to do the whole circular dating thing. I figured, if someone couldn’t handle my being a single mother, my lack of interest in anything besides honesty, I wanted to get that out of the way through email before anything else. I will say that while my little black dress hung in the closet on New Years Eve I actually was emailing someone who captured my attention. We ended up emailing back and forth and by January 2nd went out on our first date to see Black Swan (which I will add, was not quite the best first date choice), but we definitely enjoyed a few laughs about the bizarre quality of the movie. We shared my rice cake popcorn, a chocolate bar, and afterwards talked over wine for a couple of hours, not holding back on any topics of conversation.
Several weeks later, here I am deciding I owe it to the little black dress that inspired me to put myself out into the world of dating to write down my story. Because sometimes we believe that there aren’t people who share our dreams, or values. It is easy to feel completely alone in a world where there are millions of people if we just stay comfortable in our own little perfect bubbles. But the thing is, those bubbles will pop eventually, and even though it is scary, and humbling, we need to put ourselves out there. All I’m saying that it is possible to meet someone interesting, it just takes a little bit of effort. And if it took me buying a dress to get out there and connect with someone whom I might never get to meet otherwise, well, I am grateful for the push; besides, there’s always Valentines Day!
Filed under Mothering, Relationships, Uncategorized by on Feb 1st, 2011. Comment.
I’m one of those people who has a hard time taking the easy way. I can’t just buy the $6 thrift store winter jacket in an awful color that fits pretty good and be happy with it; instead I’ll go to all of the gear stores in town, try on all the brands, order about 10 different ones online until I find one that fits perfectly and is a decent color. This would be much easier if I didn’t have such damn long arms. Of course the thrift store jacket is hanging in my closet,I mean it was such a good deal; I’ll use it as a camping jacket. Although, I’m not sure I’m necessarily the type of person who could go camping when it’s cold enough to justify bringing a winter jacket, but, you never know. As embarrassing as it is to admit, jacket shopping pales in comparison to me shopping for a prom dress, (please don’t ask my best friend about that one). After nine hours in three malls, it finally required a trip to Las Vegas ,where I did find the perfect prom dress, and I did haul it all the way back to New Jersey on the plane.
I am a researcher by nature. I investigate everything from my winter boots to digital camera’s, reading reviews on strollers and even laptop carrying bags. It’s just my nature. It’s not a money thing, really, I just want to make sure I’m getting the most out of my purchases. This even goes for food. Constantly, I am looking online for new information regarding what to eat, how to keep my child healthy during the winter months, what to avoid if you want to prevent cancer. A lot of people have labeled me as picky, stuck up, pretentious, and a know-it-all, but what can I do? This is who I am.
Sometimes I wonder if I choose to be this way to add an extra element of drama into my life. As an adult it’s easy to look back on our lives and realize how many times we overcomplicated things, added the drama dimension just to keep things interesting. Did I major in Religious Studies, something that would require many all nighters writing papers rather than just getting a degree that grades based on multiple choice tests because it was more interesting, or because I wanted the extra challenge? Actually, I am horrible at taking multiple choice tests, so I was thrilled to write papers and be graded on something I was passionately interested in.
What about my bizarre romantic relationships. I couldn’t be hapy with the guy who was honest, committed, loyal, trustworthy and loving, no instead I’m one of those women who cheated on that guy, and then married a man who was controlling, unfaithful, and a pathological liar because I must like the extra challenge? Too bad I didn’t do the research there! It was as if I couldn’t believe I deserved to be happy, because why should I be any different then the rest of society who’s always fighting with their spouses, barely paying the bills, having affairs, and getting divorced? These were actually thoughts I had, although they were probably too far down in my subconscious, because really, who would actually do that on purpose? In the past I might have said I’m someone who loves a good challenge, and maybe even tried a little too hard to get a guy to like me, or be the best step-mom in the world, or teach a child with learning disabilities to read, and write.
Now I realize that while I do like a challenge, I don’t like the drama. And I can finally see the difference. The challenge this month is finding the best deal on a winter jacket that actually has long enough arms to fit me. I’ll leave the drama of crazy ex’s, and the idea of being a perfect anything behind. I am aware that there are a lot of people who would be grateful to have any jacket, stroller or even food for that matter. I don’t want the most expensive anything, I just want something good quality at a great price. If I was rich, I am not one of those people who would get a $100,000 car, or a giant mansion. My dream house is a log cabin with solar panels, and my dream car is a subaru forester. I don’t think that’s asking too much. I just want something with 4wd and enough room for 3 car-seats in the back so not only will I be safe in the snow, but also able to haul all the kids I watch around in the back seat. As for relationships, I finally have done some research, besides just the past experiences, I have read some good books to help me identify what I’m really looking for in love. I’ll know when the right person comes along, and it won’t be because I had to chase him, or change who I am. And at this point in my life, I can say with utmost honesty,that all this research has taught me that we all deserve to be truly happy, and we don’t have to settle for a just-ok anything. Oh, and by the way, jacket number 8 fits perfectly.
Filed under Mothering, Relationships, Uncategorized by on Nov 17th, 2010. Comment.
When people hear that I’m a single mom, assumptions are made instantly. It is almost impossible to hear labels I’m associated with”single mom”, or “attachment parenting”, or “divorced” without putting your own meaning behind the terms. Labels automatically imply whatever association you personally have with it based on your own life experiences. Our experiences shape our vision in ways that only allow us to see through our own lenses unless we try to on other peoples glasses once in a while. In my experience people assume that because I’m a single mom, I must have gotten married too young, got pregnant unintentionally, had a husband that cheated on me or was abusive, and that I’ve sworn off men forever. While some of those things are true to my situation, it always amazes me that when I meet new friends, they don’t even ask one question about it. When I bring my son to playgroup, mom’s never ask about me personally. Yes, they ask where I moved from, what kind of work I do, but we never talk about men. It’s as though they don’t bring it up intentionally because they’re afraid it might trigger an unwelcome memory, or be uncomfortable since I’m single, or maybe it’s because they think I’ll be jealous of their wonderful marriages. Honestly, I don’t know. These are all my own assumptions as to why we don’t talk about personal relationships. This is strange for me because as a woman, I’m so used to sitting and chatting with my girlfriends about relationships, sex, or the horrible fight we had the night before. Since I became a mom, it seems like my circle of friends has also included other mom’s, and all we talk about are the kids, what to eat, and work. It’s as though we have to live up to some definition of mom and we’re only allowed to talk about mom stuff. Thinking about all this made me realize how much labeling is done on everything in our lives. When we only go by the label “mom” and not the person we don’t ever give them a chance to be who they really are. This might be cliche, but I feel it is important to address, because we are in a world where all we do is label. I title this post, ad tags to it, I label my children’s toy boxes so he knows where to put his things away, my son asks me what kind of car drives by, I give it a name, another label. Children observe us labeling everything in our lives, from the nice toys, to the junky toys, real or fake, good or bad, from mommy, to friend, to family, giving not only each object a name and a purpose, but people as well. By teaching our children that everthing has a label, it forces them to only think inside the box. If I tell Evan that a box is just a box, that’s all it will ever be. But if I show him it could also be a table, a boat, a truck, a house, an airport, or whatever else our imagination suggests, then he will learn to see that not everything or person is just one thing. I want him to know that I am whatever definition of single, attachment parenting, divorced mom I create; not one created by stereotypes. Objects and people are much more then the labels we use to describe them. As for my friendships, I hope to create ones that are meaningful, not just because we share the same title, or job description.
Filed under Mothering, Relationships, Uncategorized by on Nov 3rd, 2010. Comment.
Becoming a parent is one of the scariest things a person can do. I seriously worry that I might really mess up this little human who calls me Mom. Ever since I got pregnant, I find myself discovering this instinctive protective nature that has overcome me. It’s as though my only job in this world is to protect this little person. I pulled coins and tiny rocks out of his mouth when he was a baby, I followed carefully on the stairs as he practiced crawling up and down, I chased after him as he tried to run away when he was 1, I make him wear a helmet when he rides his scooter, and do my best to do my job as the protector. All this attempt to avoid danger makes me wonder if I am instilling too much fear in him. Yes, it is inevitable as a mom not to find something to worry about. Is it possible that by always saying, “be careful” every time Evan drives his scooter racing down the hill, or “watch out”, whenever he walks in front of a swing, it seems like I’m getting in the way of him making his own mistakes. Where do I draw the line between keeping him safe, and letting him learn what is scary and safe all for himself? This seems like the constant battle I’m facing as a parent; finding a balance. When do I just let it go, and when do I tug on the leash? Ok, of course I don’t actually use a leash but stillyou know what I mean. There has to be something between neurotic and spoiling. I’ve been working on picking my battles lately, and showing Evan that I respect who he is, and his own ideas. It seems easy to forget that children are people with their own opinions and not just controllable bodies of cuteness. But it is so hard not to use fear as a method of getting a child to cooperate. If you don’t clean your room, I’m going to throw away your toys, if you don’t stay next to me in the grocery store you might get lost and I won’t be able to find you, if you don’t buckle your seat belt you could get really hurt if we crashed the car. All of these are possible scenarios that are actually reasonable. But they’re not the best approach. Why should a child be worried about losing his favorite toy, or even his mother? That is teaching children to comply based on fear of what might happen if they don’t. Of course a child could get really hurt in the car if he didn’t buckle his seat belt, but instead of phrasing it a threatening way, we can just explain things matter of factly. Instead of saying”If you run away in the grocery store you could get lost and I might never be able to find you again”, you could say, “it is important we stay together so we can see each other while we are shopping. It is safer to stay together and more fun too!” It is fine to explain how the seat belt protects us, but we don’t need to tell a child he better buckle up or he might get really hurt and have to go to the hospital. It is important to respect a child’s right to want information, and it is our job to teach them. That is why it is important to give the facts, but not to instill a sense of fear in them. A lot of scary things are out there, and that’s why we all need parents to help guide us as children, give them the helmet that will keep their head safe, and teach them to look both ways before crossing a street. The long term goal however is to hope that our children will make these safe, consious decisions even when we’re not there. If we provide facts without threats, our children will be more likely to grow up making those good decisions on their own. If I can succeed in that, I’ll have a lot less to worry about.
Filed under Mothering, Uncategorized by on Nov 2nd, 2010. Comment.
Evan and I were playing outside in the backyard the other day and I was reading my book for a moment, and then I look over to see him eating something. Being that I didn’t bring any snacks outside I was a little concerned. “What are you eating” I asked. “Chocolate”, he answered. In case you were wondering, I don’t feed my child chocolate except on special occasions. Playing in the back yard was not one of those special times. I asked where he got the chocolate from, and he answered, “The table”. After pointing to the small brown drops of bird poop on the table, I screamed, “Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!! Evan, SERIOUSLY, that’s bird poop!” He just looked at me like so what? Not realizing how disgusted I was, he just went on playing. I asked him if it tasted like chocolate, he said no. Honestly, I didn’t know what to do. What if my son ate some horrible parasite, or would catch a bird disease? At the time I couldn’t recall what those bird diseases were called, but, I knew they were bad. This had to be worse than the time he got into the dishwasher soap under the sink, and definitely worse than the time he ate the non-poisonous flowers outside, and I had to call poison control both times for that. He’s not one of those kids who is completely deprived of sugar, but up until this day, the only benefits I have observed of feeding chocolate to a toddler have been loss of appetite, and way too much energy, and if you have kids you’d know that is a bad combination. But on this day, I discovered a very good reason, probably the only reason to give my son chocolate; and that is so he can distinguish between real chocolate, and bird poop, because that’s an important distinction to be able to make. Oh, by the way, he didn’t get sick.
Filed under Mothering, Uncategorized by on Sep 20th, 2010. Comment.
It has been a couple of months since we have arrived in Colorado, and all I can say is thank goodness we are here. It feels like we have returned home, after being away for a long time. My job is much less stressful, and a breath of fresh air after teaching. Plus, I have my family here, so I am blessed with their support as well. Plus, we live in one of the most beautiful locations in the country (in my opinion). Evan is overjoyed; he can spend hours playing hide and seek with his Mimee, and do all kind of “grown up jobs” such as mowing the lawn, gardening, and fixing things with tools with his Grandfather Fred. The only question I keep asking myself is why I didn’t do this sooner? Honestly, I was scared. Without a savings account or job opportunity I didn’t know if I could do it, especially with Evan. But what I learned is that since I was brave enough to listen to that little voice inside my head, the one that doesn’t shut-up when I get one of those ideas that I just have to do something; I learned I can survive a drive across the country by myself with a toddler, I can make enough money doing something I enjoy to support my family, I am able to live in a city with like minded individuals, make friends, and actually be happy. I am so glad I listened to myself, and didn’t wait until I had” enough” money in the bank (however much that would be), or a better car. I can only hope that by doing this for us, when Evan is older he will see me as someone with courage, not afriad to stand up for herself and her family, because this is our life, and I want to impress upon Evan that life is right now, each moment, and we don’t want to just wait around for a “perfect” opportunity, because every moment is a chance to be happy. 
Filed under Mothering, Uncategorized by on Sep 18th, 2010. 2 Comments.
Day 1
I sat on top of my organic cotton yoga mat and a perfectly broken in quilt I’ve had since college. My$70 wool pillow was wedged between myself and the door; another one above my head between the ratchets that held the futon on the roof. You’d think all that extra padding would have made the seat more comfortable, but it was actually the opposite. It was lumpy, and made me feel like I was a hotdog in a bun of blankets for 3 days. Other important items filled the passenger side: our clothes in 2 suitcases, may kitchen items, toiletries, and of course Evan’s scooter so he could stop at rest areas and ride around to burn off some energy. This was actually a life saver, and many people commented on my planning skills when we stopped, and said how thoughtful I was to keep that accessible for him to ride. Actually, there was nowhere else for it to go, but I was glad it ended up there even though it rubbed against my elbow a million times. As we drove Evan wore his helmet for a good amount of time. This wasn’t because he actually likes wearing a big piece of plastic in a tiny cave, but one of my Frye cowgirl boots fell on his head (when he wasn’t wearing the helmet), and that was enough to convince him he better take safety precautions, just in case another boot, or UFO came falling from above. Good thing he did too, because a few hours later, a plastic container dislodged itself from my carefully planned spot, and fell on his well protected head.
I’ll admit I was a little nervous driving all the way across the country with a 3 year old. He’s incredibly well behaved for his age, and loves adventure, but the fact that he couldn’t even look out the window to admire all the trucks we passed, concerned me. To entertain him, I bought a portable DVD player to babysit him the entire way. Honestly, I never thought I’d be one of those mothers who would stoop so low as to buy a DVD player for the car. But this was one of those moments when I threw all my beliefs out the window, and I’m so glad I did, because it totally worked. He didn’t even complain one time about getting in the car because he was so excited about watching his video’s he didn’t care that it smelled like stinky feet and a moldy basement. I’ll explain that later…
Day2
Well, on the evening of day 1 and the morning of day 2 it rained. No, not a sprinkle. At least 2 inches of pouring rain came down. The kind of rain you don’t want to have a futon strapped to the top of your car in, and as I found out this was the kind that blows into the tiny crack between the windows where the ratchets buckle. Yes, it managed to blow into cracks I didn’t even know existed, until in the morning when I opened the door, and noticed my favorite quilt and yoga mat were totally soaked. Even Evan’s car seat which was in the middle of everything managed to get soaking wet. This was a problem. But, there was nothing I really could do except put a towel down, and turn the yoga mat over to the dryer side, and by dryer I mean not dripping wet. The quilt got left in the laundry room of the hotel, hoping someone would use it. I didn’t have time to dry it, and it was too wet to bring. This was the first item left behind on our trail to Colorado.
After a quick breakfast and scooter ride, we were back in the car towards Tennessee. This drive was fun with many nice views (not that Evan could appreciate them), but I was visually entertained. Evan was entertained as well, enjoying his new Curious George movie, and all the snacks he could ask for.
That night we stopped in Tennessee, a town I’d never heard of, and for Evan our trip just reached it’s highlight. The hotel room had a TV! He was too tired to notice the one the day before, so this was really exciting. He could watch TV and lay in a bed. He actually said to me, “Mom, this is perfect”. Then he asked if the hotel was our new house. I had to explain that a hotel is just a spot to sleep until we kept driving. He was utterly disappointed.
Day 3
The next morning we dragged ourselves out of the hotel room, even though I could have easilly let Evan watch TV while I slept a while longer, but I was starving, and I knew we had to get on the road. The town we stayed in only had a Walmart for a grocery store. On our diet, the only thing I could actually find to eat was some organic apple sauce for Evan, and some almond snack that said it was gluten free. Apparently, they were doing inventory that day, so they didn’t even have vegetables or fruit, except some really old looking stuff. I did find some creamy rice cereal, that was gluten free, but it needed to either be cooked in the microwave, or stove, and I had neither option. There was a McDonalds inside of Walmart, so I got some free hot water in attempt to see if the cereal was instant. But it was not. It was just hard wet rice cereal, and not good. One good thing they did have was another Curious George video that we did not own, so we bought that, since the other one got a little worn out the day before.
Day 3 was smooth driving, until at one point on a highway in the middle of nowhere Evan had to go to the bathroom. Miraculously I found an old general store with and a play structure out front. Up until our move Evan has always pooped on a small potty chair. Of course no restrooms have those, so I told him he had to poop on the big toilet. But he refused. I knew he had to go, but he really really didn’t want to, so I said he could play on the playground for a few minutes, and then we’d go back in to try again. Evan was playing and I was relaxing, stretching my legs for a few minutes, and then he yells to me, “Mom, I need to change!” Yes, he pooped in his pants. There I was sitting outside in a parking lot changing his pants. Fortunately, that was the last time that ever happened. What was I going to do with a pair of poopy underwear? I couldn’t bring it in the car, it would smell too bad. So, I threw it in the trash. I felt guilty about that, but I had no choice. This was the second thing we left behind.
At dinner time Evan had his first and only meltdown of the trip. He fell asleep right before we reached P.F. Changs, where I called in ahead for takeout. I knew he would be miserable but I had to pee so badly, that I had to wake him up to go inside. I already had been holding it for the past hour and a half, and now it was impossible not to go. The problem was that I couldn’t physically get him out of the car without pulling him. He really had to climb out through my seat to get out of the car, so he had to be completely woken up. He was so pissed that he started screaming hysterically. I wanted to calm him down before going into the restaurant, but nothing was working. And I either had to go to the bathroom in my pants or run as fast as possible into P.F. Changs. Eventually I managed to wedge myself close enough to him to pull him out kicking and screaming all the way through the restaurant. Finally, I was able to pee, and for about ten seconds, I really didn’t care that he was disrupting everyone in the restaurants meals even in the bathroom. Then, once we got into the bathroom, he calmed down, until I told him we were finished and it was time to go. Of course, then he did’nt want leave. Typical toddler. So, we had to trudge back through the restuarant to the take out counter, screaming to get me to come back into the bathroom. He even tried pulling me with all of his might, for what I will never understand. Why can’t children just come born with an understanding of appropriate behavior; it would make things so much easier.
After ruining everyone’s meals in that Kansas City P.F. Changs, I feel fortunate to say that it is unlikely that I’ll ever have to go back there, thank God. Some family friends lived outside of Kansas City and let us stay at their place that night. I was so grateful not to have to sleep in a smelly hotel room.
Day 4
At 6am we were woken up by a young boy playing video games in the living room. Evan immediately jumped out of bed to see what was going on. This was something new for Evan. A giant TV screen with cars chasing and shooting at each other. I was so tired and stiff from driving I couldn’t move, and since Evan was obviously content, I just wanted to sleep a little while longer. An hour later, Evan was running around like a crazy kid, making shooting sounds, and bossing me around. “Mom, make me breakfast”, “Mom, get up already”, “Mom, I said get up, I want breakfast, NOW!” It was like he was a different child. At that moment I knew the final item we’d leave behind on our journey across country: Evan’s virgin eyes. Now he had seen video games, and I knew he would never be the same. Okay, maybe I’m overreacting a little bit, but you should have seen how crazy he was acting!
After making some rice cereal in the microwave, taking one bite and then spitting it out, because it was so gross, I asked where the closest health food store was, and packed our things to go. Ready for our final day of drving, the longest one yet, about 9 hours across Kansas into Colorado, I opened the door, and the disgusting smell of mold and sweaty feet burst out. I almost had to throw up. Apparently the wet things got even wetter in the rain storm the day before, yes, more rain, and now it was getting moldy. Oh, and I didn’t realize that Evan spilled a glass of rice smoothie all over the back seat which added to the grossness. Everything in the car was damp, if not soaked like Evan’s carseat. It was so disgusting, I couldn’t breathe in the car without the windows open, and the only window I could open was the driver’s side, because the back windows were holding in my precious Ugg boots. We loaded up, got some delicious gluten free blueberry muffins and carrot cake to snack on and make it through the last day. Thank goodness for sugary muffins, because otherwise it was just a moldy locker room covered in moldy smoothie.
One hour before arriving at the house of a family friend, Evan started freaking out. It was as if he finally realized that he has been stuck in a wet, moldy cave for three and a half days, and all of his toys, shoes, and pillows were caving in on him. He had to get out of the car, and fast! When we finally arrived in Denver, it was so surreal. I almost got so used to driving, that I wasn’t sure if it would ever end. As I lay in bed that night, all I could think about was how glad I was that I got up the strength to just do it. Evan and I really did drive across the country with our important possessions, and no more. The car didn’t break down, and if we can survive that trip, I know I can take Evan anywhere. I am so proud of him for putting up with everything, and I am proud of us for getting the courage to make a change in our lives!
Filed under Mothering, Uncategorized by on Sep 3rd, 2010. Comment.
Anyone who knows me well, knows that once I get an idea in my head, it’s hard to convince me otherwise. One might say that I am not the most responsible, organized planner, or financially secure mother out there. But seriously, what single mother can actually save a significant amount of money without regular child support, and only making $18,000 a year teaching kindergarten at a private school? Too much information? That is reality, and has been for Evan and I over the past two years. As this school year came to an end I knew it was time for change. About two weeks before Kindergarten graduation I was informed that the school wouldn’t even need me for the summer, so I knew this was my opportunity to escape from Myrtle Beach. Between the horrible humidity, lack of community, and general tacky beach vibe, I was begging for an excuse to move. At this point, there was nothing to hold me back from moving across country, toddler in tow. I wasn’t able to reach my full potential teaching kindergarten at a school where salary increases don’t exist, and only making enough money to barely scrape by, the debt to my parents, and student loan companies kept getting larger, while my savings account was pretty much non-existent. After sending out resume’s to jobs in 4 different states, I decided to let the place pick me. I narrowed my choises down to New Mexico, Arizona, Las Vegas (to be closer to my brother) and Colorado. After several interviews for a nanny position, I recieved a wonderful job offer outside of Boulder Colorado, where I could bring Evan to work with me, and take care of a 15 month old boy, during the day. The pay: a big salary increase. This would give me the time and energy to hopefully go back to school for nutritional consulting, which is what I’ve been yearning to do for several years, but didn’t have the time or funds to do so.
It didn’t take much to convince me that $1000 in the bank was enough to drive my 3 year old son Evan out to Colorado with, pay for gas and lodging and hopefully have enough with my first paycheck to pay rent somewhere. We were able to stay with a family member for a few days until getting our own place. Of course, most people probably would call me crazy, and irresponsible. How did I think I could get us across the country on only about $700 after gas was paid? Many friends told me I was very brave to even drive out there by myself with a toddler. Would I say it took courage? Not really, more determination. I was determined to provide the best life possible for both of us, that is my responsibility as a mother. The best thing for us is to be happy, to have a safe place to live, and enough food to eat. I could guaruntee that we would be happier in Boulder ( I lived there for a year in college, and loved it), and I believed that it would all work out, because everything happens exactly as it is suppossed to. I wasn’t so worried abotu the financial aspect. Of course I thought about it, but there’s this feeling that I get sometimes, when I know I have to do something, and I just go with it and believe that it will work out, and it always does.
What happened next? I bought a portable DVD player to occupy Evan on our journey west, and a couple new Curious George video’s so he wouldn’t get bored. I stuffed the car to the max, with every important item from Evan’s favorite wooden front loader, to the camera’s and my clothes. Packing the car was the hardest part. I had to get rid of so many things. I decided to ship 5 boxes of stuff, including 4 boxes of books and 1 box of Christmas decorations. Everything else either had to fit in, or on the car, or it wasn’t coming with us. Evan’s carseat was in the middle seat of the back, and all of our stuff was surrounding him. By the time the car was packed, he had just enough space to crawl in through the driver side door, and hide in his little cave. Surrounded by his box of trucks, wooden parking garage, blocks, air filter, printer, computer, kitchen items, supplements, and a few momento’s, all stuffed with shoes, towels and whatever else I could possibly squeeze in between each crack, it was in there. The trick I discovered to packing was to roll the windows down of the back seat, stuff the big stuff in first, and then cram as much as possible through the window’s and then close the window. That 4 or 5 inches of space between the seat and the door is very valuable when you have to decide if you should eliminate your nice beach towel, or favorite pair of Ugg Boots. Obviously, the boots came. After the inside of the car was packed, I tried stuffing all my bags of clothes into the trunk on top of my Baby Jogger Stroller and Evan’s gathering drum (2 key items that could not be left behind). All of our clothes didn’t fit, so I resorted to emptying them out of the bags and just shoving them in as best as I could in the trunk of the car. Still, not everything fit, so anything I hadn’t worn in a year got left behind, and so did some table clothes. Picking and choosing was very hard. It was like watching an episode of the bachlor (I actually don’t watch that show), where all these poor girls get eliminated, even though they’re probably perfectly nice women, they just get thrown to the side. There went those nice Nine West sandles I never wore, and that beautiful bed spread from India that reminds my of an ex-boyfriend, so that had to go, and what about my margarita mixer? I guess that wasn’t really the necessary item of choice, being it was a wedding gift and I’ve actually only used it twice. This process went on for 2 days. Yes, it actually took me 2 days to pack the car, and in the end Evan’s toys alwasy won in a battle with myclothes. Being a mother is full of sacrifices.
car window
Last but not least was the futon. My special ordered organic cotton, chemical free futon had to come with. a couple hour of saran wrap, duct tape, a tarp and 4 ratchet’s later, the futon was on top of the car, and we were ready to go.
The pile of things left behind was about twice as large as the pile of stuff that fit in the car, not including all the furniture I sold. But every time I said goodbye to the wedding dress, candle holders or a large part of my book collection, I knew that we were letting go of the past, and making room for all of the new things that would soon come into our lives. This was the beginning of a new chapter for Evan and I, and I was ready to let go of the past, and welcome all now beginnings.
Evan in is cave
Filed under Mothering, Uncategorized by on Aug 18th, 2010. Comment.
My patience gets sucked out of me faster than a vacuum cleaner can pick up dirt teaching Kindergarten. By the time I get home, I have to use all my effort to stay calm and present with Evan. Sometimes all it takes to switch from being a calm, patient Mom to a yelling at Evan Mom is a case of Evan opening the fridge and the brand new glass bottle of maple syrup falls on the floor, breaking into a million sticky pieces the ants will LOVE. The end of the day often feels like an endless battle of cleaning up the floor and the mess I’ve made as a Mom, because now my sensitive boy who didn’t mean to do anything wrong is crying because I yelled when the jar of maple syrup I just bought broke all over the floor. Teaching the kindergartners to write their name in between the lines, offering them two choices every time they break a rule, disciplining with tact, sitting one on one and going over the difference between the “th” sound and the “f” sound, over and over is challenging, but because I’m professional, I try not to lose my cool and yell at the children. These kids don’t get to come home with me and say, it’s OK mom, you were so calm and collected the rest of the day, I forgive you for yelling at me now. Evan doesn’t get to see the patient Teacher all day, some days he only gets the worn out, grumpy Mom.
Yesterday, after a longday at school, Evan wanted me to sit down and do a puzzle with him. Not just one puzzle, but four puzzles. Happy to have a quiet activity to do together, I sat with him, not knowing what I was getting myself into. This was the first time we’d done this puzzle since getting it at Once Upon a Child the other day. It’s one of those boxes that comes with 4 different puzzles in one. He really liked it, since they were truck puzzles, and I thought it would be good for him to learn how to do puzzles with something he loves: trucks. But oh my gosh, it takes a LOT of patience to teach a 3 year old how to do a puzzle. First, the concept that the pieces match took some convincing. “The brown line has to go next to the brown line!!!” I found myself yelling that after we got to the second puzzle, and by the fourth one we still didn’t have that concept down, and I think I yelled a little too loudly because Evan started crying. Oh my gosh, I’m a horrible mother I thought as I realized I actually made my son cry while doing a PUZZLE. I’m supposed to be a teacher, I can teach kids to read all day, but I can’t sit for twenty minutes with Evan to do a puzzle. What’s wrong with me? I was getting frustrated because my patience went out the window with all the rest of my energy, smiles, and calm voice I had earlier in the day.
How did I get myself out of this one without traumatizing Evan for the rest of his life against puzzles? I just picked him up in my lap, gave him a hug, and said I was very sorry for yelling, because he was doing a great job, and that I was just tired, but that didn’t mean I should yell. I reminded him that sometimes Mommies get grumpy when they are tired, and that is what happened, and that I was having fun doing the puzzle, and asked if he wanted to keep going. He said “sure”, like it was no big deal, picked up the next puzzle piece and said, “it’s okay if you’re grumpy Mommy. Where does this piece go?” Children love so unconditionally. I am always so impressed by Evan’s ability to let go of all the stuff adults carry around for days. Thank you Evan for being patient with me, and thank goodness you still like puzzles!
Filed under Mothering, School, Uncategorized by on May 27th, 2010. Comment.
