Since I’m single and not exactly in a hotbed of male activity, the question has come up more than once. Frequently accompanied by “so and so met her husband that way”.

I think it confuses people that I’m so “online” yet resist online dating.

I’ve always hated the bars, the meat market, the feeling of having to sell myself.

Over Christmas Break, I sat in front of one of the sites and scrolled though available options. Just about broke out in hives just from the looking. It felt skeevy and wrong.

For me.

This is one of those times where my gut pings no-no-no. I’m content to listen.

–

Then my therapist gave me the challenge of being open to opportunities, getting out of the house, trying new things.

Last night Alex and I went to Amanda’s house and he was in little boy heaven playing Wii with her boys. I met Amanda* who puts dirty words on fine china and makes buttons with Firefly and Dr Who references. They baked vegan cookies. I met the daughter of my 6th grade art teacher and we both had that “ooo weird small world” feeling. I met the girl who ALSO spent Christmas watching Leverage commentaries. The girl from the art store was there. They have sweet stuff. There was the guy and girl having a baby – who were super into gardening – which is something that fascinates me, but looks like work. (Says the girl who used a hand saw to cut hard wood to finish the flooring project.)

I had a great night. I left the yellow house a little better for the conversation and the people I met.

There’s what I need right now. People. Opportunities. I have someone tucked back in a corner of my heart, I might look at that again someday. Today and for the next little while, Alex and I are busy doing new things and shoring up this new existence. No compatibility profile needed.

** two hours after I hit post, I realized 2 things – this post is all about not trying online dating – and I met Amanda on Twitter. Second – it didn’t occur to me to mention that detail when I wrote this. Weird.

Once upon a time, Alex didn’t like me. By once upon a time, I mean most of the first four years of his life. He had his daddy, and I was Cletus the Slack Jawed Cousin who he tolerated at best, usually because I made milk and he liked milk. Once the milk days were done, he didn’t need or want me for much.

I lost track of the number of times he told me to go away, or screamed because he didn’t want me. I quit expecting him to be excited to see me. I never quite quit trying though. Even when I had to talk myself into facing the next day with him thinking I was fourth best (behind Daddy and his cats. I won’t even consider that I was really also behind Little Einsteins and Team Umizoomi as well.)

It had everything to do with what was inside me too. Once I fell in love with the bud, well, bring it on sport, we’re in this together.

Taking him to his daddy for Christmas was hard, this kind of parenting ain’t for sissies. I got past my anxiety of knowing I wouldn’t see him for two weeks, and really didn’t miss him while he was gone. I knew he was well cared for and having a great time with his Daddy. I knew we’d be fine when he got back.

Poor buddy. Today was hard on him. He didn’t want to leave Daddy, even though he climbed right in the car and buckled up, filling me up with stories about watching the donuts get made at Krispy Kreme. The drive home was long. Many times he told me “I really miss Daddy”. I know you do, buddy, I know you do.

I can tap into that little six year old who lives in me and remember just enough of what it was like to go between my parents too. I remember the dread of leaving Dads. I never really remember dreading leaving Moms. Which has more to do with the stability of knowing she was right there and would be there, unchanged, when I got back.

His topper comment of the night was, “I like Missouri and I like Kentucky. I don’t like you, I only like Daddy.”

Well, little love, “Thank you for trusting me enough to be honest with me and tell me how you feel.”

My heart didn’t even twinge when he said it. Not that I’m an unfeeling robot of a person, just that, I know . . . I know this boy, MY boy.

He doesn’t like me tonight. He doesn’t like situation, and he downright hates leaving his daddy. All of this okay. It shows me how much he loves us and trusts us. He trusts us enough to tell us exactly what is on his mind and he knows that we can take it and love him right back.

He still wanted snuggled at bedtime, he fell asleep with his arm wrapped around my neck. I know in a few hours that he will wake up just enough to pad his way into my bed.

He loves me enough now to know I can take the rough stuff. He can let his waves of grief and anger crash on my shores, and I’m right here to support him. Like the sand, I will flow right along with him, yet be solid enough he can rage all he wants, I will be right here, awaiting his next wave.

This parenting stuff is amazing. I’m grateful for all the work I’ve done and all I’ve learned in the last several months. This night would have torn me apart a few months ago. Tonight I go to sleep securely knowing that I am still exactly the mommy he needs, even if I’m not the one he wants right now.

Yeah, yeah. We’re all sitting around reflecting on our year. Here’s my post from last year summing up the Christmas Season.

A year ago I was part of a big family. I spent New Years Eve with a house full of people, and at midnight I was singing Alex to sleep while my immediate adopted family was in the next room, quietly waiting the 3 year old to give up the fight and sleep for the first time in 2011.

It’s been a long time since that night.

I’d like to say I’m happier tonight than I was a year ago, but . . . That was a pretty fine night.

In 2011, I bought a house, my grandma died, I got lied to a lot, I got (more or less) proposed to, I got dumped, I got lied to a lot. I drowned in xanax and wine and sleep.

In 2011 I got supported by friends, I got supported by people I never knew would care about me when things hit fans, I roadtripped, I saw friends from Texas to Arizona to Seattle. Lots of people who actually love me, and love me when I’m at my very snottiest, lowest, worst possible place with nothing to give. People who loved me when they knew they would get nothing back in return because they knew I had nothing to give. I reconnected with my friends from the farthest back. I learned the depth of wonderful of who they have become as we lolled around some fine Missouri lake water. I started a new job, made new work friends, found out that I can make a difference, even when I’m scared and even when it is hard, but showing up and putting on a game face (and occasionally a tutu) is the way to go.

I learned to love on my own terms. From my gut. Love the people worth loving. Whether or not they have anything to give, I love who I love and I’m learning to do that freely and to let them know, even though sometimes it feels scary to be that open.

Which brings me to tonight.

I might have been happy a year ago tonight, but it was a happy based on lies. There were very few shreds of truth in that happiness.

Math equation: Happiness – lies = not too damn much left over

So tonight, all the happiness I have is based in truth. There is no happiness to be lost because of lies I don’t see. Which tonight, is all I need.

2011 was a lot of learning. My goal is for 2012 to reach as high as 2011 reached low. We are all ready for it.

2011 I had to learn to choose joy. 2012 – joy is choosing all of us. It’s time, my loves, it’s time. xoxo

1. Ice skate. (not well, but better than I could this time last year)

2. Belly Laugh.

3. Redesign speech/language services in a way that makes a LOT of sense for my school community.

4. Put down hardwood in almost my entire house, almost completely by myself.

5. Love my little boy with all my heart. Be the Mommy he needs.

6. Supervise graduate students.

7. Knit a sweater.

8. Paint a house with the assistance of that little boy.

9. Install a new shower head.

10. Install a dryer vent hose.

11. Love my friends, no matter what. I’ve learned the value in being there. That showing up matters. Even if it’s a quick text. Even if it’s a prayer they never know I sent up for them.

12. Sing at the top of my lungs – ON KEY!

13. Live without television. (It’s boring, but doable.)

14. Let go of things.

15. Forgive. I’ve learned I can forgive unspeakable things. This sign is made for me:

(However, there is something to be said for “living well is the best revenge” – I put the ain’t in ‘saint’)

Something happened several weeks ago that I’ve had to sit with all this time before I could share it. I’m still not sure I can share it without sounding too sunshiny or glossy or superficial, but I’m ready to try.

I had a really hard week. I grieved everything that’s happened over the last long while. I lay alone and cried sobbing in my pillow. Everything was very sad in my heart. Even as I was sad, I wasn’t defeated, but I was definitely grieving all the life paths that weren’t going to be taken. It was a long week of blowing my nose into dirty laundry and wearing my glasses because my contacts were failing what with all the constant tears.

I stayed with it, I knew I was moving along something I needed to do, I knew it sucked. I also knew I had these people who were little points of light who were available to hold my hand when I reached out to them.

As I’m writing – I just got a text from a friend – “Just read your last couple blog posts. I hope you feel as blessed as you are to have people you trust in your life.”

Well if that doesn’t just sum up that last paragraph I wrote quite nicely.

After my rough week, I started working on the house and getting things taken care of that had been let go so I could work on what was inside. As my house got in better shape, so did I. I was okay.

I was hanging out with Alex, and my mind wandered to the Dude and the Tatskank. Dunno about you, but my mind will, on occasion, take me to really ugly places I wish I could wash it’s mouth out with soap because of. Nasty, porny images tried to work their way in.

And I realized I didn’t care.

Not the angry “I don’t give a fuck”, not the pitiful, “I can’t think about it.” A true, “I don’t care. This has no power over me.”

Realizing that. Realizing how far from forgiveness to forgetting I was – how very far on the other side of that pain I was – I felt light, I felt glowy, I felt wonderful.

I was so freaking excited. Like watching my team win the World Series Bowl Cup from the center of the action. Like seeing a goal number on a scale, fitting into skinny jeans, making a perfect drink kind of excited.

I went to bed all jazzed up on how great it felt to be great inside. I thought and thought about it and had the thought, “Go be happy Dude.”

And holy crap, I meant it. I really meant it. Go be happy Dude, because I have a big ball of wonderful coming to me now that I have let go of all this yuck you gave me. Go be happy Dude, because, why not? Life’s too short, carpe diem, choose joy, go get ya some.

That realization of being beyond the pain, the anger, the forgiveness, the moving on, the caring, the angst, and on into the actual selfless stage of “hey, go be happy, I am.” was just so WOW that I will never  quite find the words to describe it for as huge as it was in my heart. That glow. That happy.

That FREEDOM.

The next day? I woke up with my arms wide open for whatever awesome the universe was sending my way.

I ran into the Dude and the Tatskank not once, but TWICE that day.

Each time, I sent them off with a “Go be happy” from my heart. That I actually meant. Yes there was a twinge of sadness one time in the midst of that, but I can handle that, it was only fair. He was important to me for a very long time, it’s okay to be very occasionally, slightly sad.

But I’m also very occasionally, slightly sad, that I threw out all my Sassy magazines from high school.

And I’d rather have the magazines than him.

By the end of that day, I was NEEDED. *I* was needed. Chosen. And I had it to give because I’d let go of yet another pile of emotion I didn’t realize I was carrying. I let it go and made room for something better.

I never expected to feel this okay with things. Living in the same town. Circulating with the same people.

Tonight I, again, was in the mix of people who were, historically, more “his” than “mine”. But tonight? They were mine.

I own my world and my experience. My experience helps me understand where other people are with their own world. I see things so much differently than I did 6 months ago… a year ago… ever.

I’m still stubbornly not grateful for some of the things that have happened to me – but I am here today, stronger, better, more joyful, and totally ready to catch the ball of wonderful that is coming my way. I will appreciate it so much more, and I won’t squander the chance to add to my joy.

Bring it.

And the magazines. That would be cool too.