Since I wrote about the last strange little dream I had, I figured I’d add this to the pile.

We were standing together, wrapped in our winter to spring outdoor wear. The sun bright, the breeze nice. Your arm wrapped around my shoulders.

You looked like Matthew Broderick (Ferris Matthew, not Broadway Matthew), but I knew it was you. The way one does in a dream.

I pressed my lips to your jawline in a long kiss.

“I love you.” You said.

“Love you too” I returned. Without thinking.

Then we both seemed jolted then, that the words had come out. I wondered if we had just automatically said them because we were in some “moment” where we had run out of anything else to say ….

But the feeling of security told me it was true, not just kneejerk.

Even if you DID have the wrong face

I’ve become fairly superstitious when it comes to making sure the Dude is out of my life and out of my house. I set fire to my dreams of our life together months ago -

When I cleaned out a closet and found more things I thought were long gone – those landed on the fire as well. I wanted them gone.

Today as Alex and I cleaned the (expletive deleted) out of the house, I opened a cabinet I never use – there sat things I’d left there for him almost a year ago – when I was making sure I had a place for him in my new life.

Rather than set yet another fire, I swept the stuff out of the cabinet and moved on with my cleaning.

I’m still left with the uneasy feeling that as long as I have things of him or his energy or my (long dead) desire for a future him laying around that I’m throwing up some kind of road block against anything I actually want now, people and experiences that are actually good for me.

It’s a little crazy making to have to keep trying to disconnect from him – I don’t want him, don’t want to see him, and one of these days when he’s repaid all the money he owes, I will take that last breath and blow it out with total relief that I am unbound from him completely. A quarter of a century and finally there is nothing I want more from him than what is mine and for him go away. Far far away and out of my life.

I’ve come a long way.

That first year after Dad died was full of “this is the first day that …. without him”. Since he died in March 2008, Leap Day had already passed. In my own dorkalicious fashion, I’ve known all along that this “Last First Day” was out waiting, and now tomorrow it will be here.

It’s not really a Big Deal, it’s just a little milestone bump in this road. Like Huh, that’s interesting.

Mostly I think it gives me another chance at a new beginning. Like New Years 2012 when I declared I was looking for good things. Then I got all germy and sick and just looking for tissues.

Then came my birthday – which really I was prepared for a great philosophical post, all about finding success, and how Julia Child didn’t start cooking till she was 37 and how we are the designers of ourselves. Then I got completely overwhelmed and lost and scared of my shadow.

So here we are five days later and I’m still lost, but less floofy about it. Yet again, here’s a new beginning and an end. The next Leap Day, I will be in a new decade of life. (Scary scary).

I’m tempted to come up with some four year plan. Yet again, maybe not.

For some reason, this “Last First Day” *FEELS* important. Filled with possibility.

So tell me, if you were me, how would you choose to be great?

In the post Valentine’s romantic barfness, comes my birthday. (24th) Once upon a time, I would have hoped for jewelry or flowers or classic romance. I dreamed a different kind of dream last night.

He … [It has a to be a guy, because trying to picture a woman in this scenario just doesn't work for me. Equal love for my peeps and all, but this is a plan that has to be carried out by a man. Who I haven't been married to. My dream, my caveats.] … calls me, tells me to pack my clean comfy clothes and something that makes me feel pretty.

He has Alex looked after for the weekend, tells me to be ready when he arrives. He takes Alex off to whatever wonderland for a 4 year old. He also takes my television back to Walmart and exchanges it for one that has been unkilled by an overactive kitten. While he is gone, I shower and actually pack, because even in a dream, you know I would have gotten distracted while I was originally supposed to be packing.

He returns, sets up the tv and puts me in the car. Hands me mint chocolate chip ice cream and drives me to a hotel with sinfully comfortable adjustable mattresses. Why a hotel? Because my job is to relax and sleep. And I wouldn’t be able to sleep in my house because someone is there doing my laundry, my dishes and cleaning the place. At long last, the cat hair will be eradicated from my home.

He carries my bag up to the room and puts me to bed. We’ve spent our time together talking about things I want to talk about. Adult conversation that doesn’t revolve around school, work, children, money, bills … I’m not sure what that leaves but it’s a dream and he will figure it out.

I am laughing, I feel light. We lay there and laugh and watch some mindless entertaining tv. Perhaps the entire current season of Leverage or Castle. Maybe geeking out to the History Channel. Whatever it is will be commercial free.

I sleep the sleep of someone who will not be awakened by nonstop adorable talking at 709am.

I wake to the smell of coffee with cream no sugar, and some breakfast food involving cheese and bacon. He sends me off to get a massage and my hair done. Not because it looks bad, of course, but because it’s been six frickin months and I deserve some me primping.

Especially since I get to put on my dress that makes me feel pretty, and my heels and go out to eat at a place that makes a perfect steak – one that does not require a knife to cut. Perfect tasty steak.

Then I get taken back to the hotel to change into my comfy clothes and to stretch on the comfy comfy bed. There is more conversation. Man I love talking to him. There might just be some nooky, but this weekend is all about me getting taken care of and getting rest. So nooky may or may not factor into this dream.

After two nights of taking a break from the world, and being taken care of completely, I’m good with returning home to my clean house and my happy kid. I am well and rested and content.

Happy Happy Birthday to me.

It’s been a dark couple months in my head. December was filled with promises of awesome, and it just didn’t happen. I ended 2011 alone and bleak and sick. January opened with beautiful weather and a few healthy days for me, and then falling from the death plague that kept me in bed for four days (no really. me. bed. four days. ridic.) and I’m STILL moving through the exhaustion points. Don’t say mono to me, I don’t even want to think it. *lalalalala*

Things just haven’t shaped up the way I planned, prayed, hoped. I thought I was building a future, but I’ve been feeling stuck. I *did* go look for some newness and fun – and then got all germy and bedridden so that stifled the get out and get fun.

All the while, I knew my head was trying to work something out. I wanted it to just get the heck on with it, but there’s no rushing my brain when it’s chewing on something big.

I’ve found myself in church a couple times. Once they talked about teamwork. This week it was all about how we get what we NEED.

I have no crystal ball, so I started taking bits of what the preacher man talked about and looking at things that have happened in my life. Then I really zoomed in on the men I’ve chosen through the years, the ones that haven’t worked out (which I suppose has been all of them, but I mean the ones that didn’t even really get a chance to work).

There was the bad boy who landed himself in jail at some point (so I heard).

The fun boy who now has a recreational coke habit (so I heard).

The good friend who is now married to someone who is just a perfect fit for him.

The great guy friend, so cute, who is now with an equally so cute GUY friend. And the other one. And the OTHER one.

The hot boy who lost all his hair.

The hot boy who grew out a Grizzly Adams beard and loves it.

The church boy who spent so many years stoned it’s a wonder he ever graduated college and may now still be working at Blockbuster.

The boy who is so freakin’ conservative I want to claw out my eyes and ears after 10 minutes engaged in conversation.

and so on and so forth (thanks fb friends list for giving me things to jog my memory).

Most of these people grew up to be much different than I had expected, sometimes it is just surprising the paths they took, others I just straight up don’t like who they grew into.

I’m finally back into living with the flow. I can tell the total difference in my heart. There’s some acceptance of things not gone my way, there’s some love light has been snuffed out (which hurts, regardless of my bravado), mostly I’m just back to something that resembles okay. And grateful.

….and my snark is back. I missed my snark … and my mojo …. I need some new shoes ….

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.