Dating (and knowing it!:)

VS. not knowing it like the first time.

Dating is not at all what I expected it to be. It isn't at all like the last time I was single. Before, dating was fun. I would go out with anyone once, it didn't matter if I knew ahead of time that we weren't a good match, it didn't matter if I knew ahead of time it would be a disaster, it didn't matter what we did or how much it cost or any of that. It didn't matter because then dating was about having a new experience and getting to know new people. And I loved it! I had so many incredible experiences, and did so many crazy things. And boy, do I have some stories I could share! I should write a book, really, it was that good.

Dating the second time around, for me, is not the same experience at all.

First of all, I live in a tiny town where I am one of like four single people, and one of those is a woman and the rest are creepy. So there isn't a lot to choose from, which makes it hard to get a date.

The second thing I didn't realize until I started attending some single activities with my friend in a nearby town. It turns out that I'm "not actually single". Funny, I've been "not single" before, and it was nothing like this, AND I have the messy divorce and crazy ex husband to prove it, so I really thought I was. Nope. Evidentally, according to one of the singles ward guys I have kids, so I'm "more of a ...company, than a single" and I "don't really belong with the other nice unmarried adults."

... So there's that:)

And finally, when you reach a certain age (I just turned 29, which isn't old anywhere else but in Mormon culture where it's actually ancient) people are in a hurry to get married. You can't just date because you want to have fun, or because going out is nice sometimes. Nope, you get one shot, and if you can't see yourselves together forever, it's over. And even worse, if you DO get along and think you could stand to spend some time together, the second date includes a DTR (determine the relationship) and a possible proposal. Because time is ticking, and can't be waisted on silly little things like learning each other's hobbies, or more about their family, or how to correctly pronounce last names... No, if you have found someone who isn't completely repulsed by you the time to act is NOW because the number of elegable singles is quickly diminishing, and those who snooze, will, in fact, lose.
And then there are my friends. Man, I love 'em. They have the best of intentions, really they do, but they are desperate to find someone for me. DESPERATE! One saw a guy in the temple one day, so she figured he must be a good guy, right? So a few weeks later when she saw him at the mall she literally chased him down to try to get me a date... good thing he sensed danger and bolted! Really, would it be worse to have him not want to date the friend of some crazy lady who stalks him in the mall, figuring that if I am that desperate I must be a total freak. Or is it worse for him to see my crazy stalker friend and realize that I must be a freak and STILL say yes he would date me? What kind of a freak would that make him? There just isn't any winning in that situation. And another friend notices random men who aren't wearing wedding rings and asks them if they want to date me, like the yard maintainence man at the city building or the Jr. livestock judge at the fair. I'm not kidding, I couldn't even make this stuff up. And by the way, not all men who don't wear wedding rings are single. And that gets awkward! And one day I got an excited call from my best friend. It seems that as his wife was parusing the local paper she came across a personal ad from a guy who had three kids and was looking for a wife to take care of them. They saved the ad for me. Nice! It's not that I don't want the help finding a date. I like my friends and if they have a nice single guy who likes them too, we might be able to hit it off. I just think that if they DON'T know someone nice it's okay to say that and not try to seek out new friends... or bus boys... or strangers on the street for me to date.
It's not that I don't want to get married. I actually would love it. Though my first marriage was not good, doesn't mean that all marriage is not good. I am still a romanic at heart, that has not changed. I just want to know who I'm marrying. For real. I thought I knew last time, and I. did. not! and I don't want that to happen again. I don't think that is too much to ask, is it?
So for now I'm still trying to find my dating niche. I'm taking it slow. I'm avoiding going out in public with my friends, I'm steering clear of defining myself as single, and I'm hanging in there. Wish me luck, I'm going to need it!

House Warming

My divorce happened really fast. One minute I thought things were fine, and the very next instant things were completely different. We were in shock. And what do you do when your whole world falls apart? You go home. So that's what we did. For a year my kids and I moved in with my parents. They were so kind to let us stay there, and they really made us feel like we were home, not just visiting. They were great. My little family has begun pulling it together again, and Ethan's school situation changed a little this year, so it was a great time to get out on our own again. For the time being we need to stay close to my parents. I am still trying with all my might to get through school, and I have a much better chance of accomplishing that if I have a free babysitter. Also, while we are doing much better, we don't have super power, and really, I need my daddy now and then:) So anyway, we moved about an hour away. We are only here for another year, two tops, and we already own a house, just not here, so buying wasn't really an option for us. The only houses that I could find for rent are either falling apart or are way out of this single mom's budget, So that left the only apartment building in town. It is actually just renovated, and so we are the first person to live on the carpet, which makes me more happy than you can imagine. It also has new managers, so there are new rules which are pretty strict, and that makes me happy too. And this little town isn't really the kind of town the has a "ghetto" or anything, so although it isn't the best situation, it isn't bad at all either. But then, as you may or may not know, in the divorce I got the kids. ...And that was pretty much all. So the quality of my possessions is not the highest. I have mismatched dishes, glasses, and silverware, one pan, two bowls, etc. I feel like a college student with grandma's hand-me-downs all over again, except now I'm 29 and a mom, so it's less acceptable:) We also have an old TV that I got when I was in high school. It has a built in VCR, that's how old it is. The remote is lost and the power button is broken, so to turn it on we use a pencil and stick it down inside the hole and poke it around until we either get shocked and give up or it turns on. Yeah, that's the quality of our lifestyle now:) 

It actually isn't that bad, and we have everything we need, our apartment is pretty cute (even though the entire thing can fit inside of my kitchen/dining room in my other house:) and we are doing fine. But, I wanted to have a housewarming party, and I LOVE a good theme, so I decided to embrace our circumstances; our theme was "WHITE TRASH"! 

It was SO funny. 

Right across the street from our new place is the city park. It has a nice pavillion and a pretty good skate park, and a playground, and everything else a good white trash party might need, so we decided to hold the first part of the party there and let the kids play while the adults visited. It seemed like a good idea until our friend Cade, not being told ahead of time that it was being held "in public" refused to get out of the car for 10 minutes for fear someone "normal" might see him.:) Eventually he did though, and the party was a huge success. We started the shindig out by applying some fake tattoos. I made them super white-trashy like barbed wire and hearts with the word "mom" inside. And our friends put them in super trashy places too, so the effect was a good one. We had a wonderful spread of food too. Cocktail sausages with an array of dipping sauce, twinkies- still in the wrapper, a pyramid of generic soda, squeeze-cheeze, potato salad, chips and bean dip- straight from the can, and pickled eggs. All of this was served on paper plates with sporks, and paper towel for napkins. 

A few hours later we wound the party up with white (trash) elephant gifts. I ended up with a can of WD40! Some other things included a can of SPAM, rusty nails, and a brush for the shower that boasts to save you from all that pesky bending over to wash your feet. 

Now on to the proof. Yes I did take a few pictures, but don't judge, I shot in (gasp!) Auto!

One of our guests showing off his "guns"

One of these adults are barefoot and pregnant in real life. The other just looks like it:) These guys are actually way too classy to be at a party like this. M the older boy, kept asking "why do we have to be white?" They didn't get it.

Look at the farmer's tan! And the boots!

This is my happy family. Can we say CHRISTMAS CARD!!! :) My kids didn't get it at all either. They didn't know why I was making them dress so immodestly, and why I was wearing sweatpants in public (an absolute no-no in our family). They didn't mind too much though until later on in the night Ethan's shirt got ripped pretty badly and I said "Oh no! Now what are you going to wear to church tomorrow!" I thought they were both going to cry!

Telephone...

I never leave my kids alone, never. I really am the most overprotective mom there is, and I take them with me EVERYWHERE. When I lived with my parents right after the divorce it wasn't a problem because usually there was someone around to watch them if I needed to run somewhere really quickly. Now there is no one here for that, so everywhere we go I load them up and drag them along. But today we had been having some outside, rockin' summer fun, and they were filthy. It was almost dinner time and I had to run to the store for a couple of ingredients, the store was set to close in ten minutes, but the kids were the kind of dirty where you just COULDN'T take them in public. So I figured, they are nine and six now, AND the store is less than a block away, AND I only needed milk and cheese, which is located fairly close to the check out stand, AND we live in a super teeny town where everyone trusts everyone, and no one locks their doors, so SURELY they would be alright for five minutes while I ran there and back, right??? I left STRICT instructions not to answer the phone or door NO MATTER WHAT! But knowing my kids I also added "and DO NOT tell anyone you are home alone!" Feeling confident and that all my bases were covered, and feeling like maybe we could handle this single parent family thing alright I set out, speeding to the store, sprinting through the isles, cutting off an elderly man at the checkout, you know all the stuff a confident single mom does on a regular basis...:)

When I got home Ethan informs me that "Ad-i-a an-swered the pho-one" in that sing song voice that brothers use when they know SOMEBODY'S getting in trouble. Adia pipes right up, "yeah, but I took a good message. I made him spell everything out so I got it all just right. And he had no idea we were all alone." Because correct spelling is SO important when it could be Chester the Molester on the phone waiting for just the right moment to break in and steal my children... So as Ethan went to go get the message I what she said if she didn't tell him I wasn't home. She answered with a huge grin, "Oh, I just said 'my mom's naked, so she can't talk on the phone right now.' " I am slightly mortified, and kind of want to hide under the bed. I am praying it was a salesman that I will never hear from again, or someone like that. I pray that it was NOT the board member of the social work program at my school that I had been expecting a call from all evening. Well it wasn't any of those people. Nope, it was our new BISHOP wondering if I could meet with him on Sunday! Nope I can't make that meeting I am going to need to move and change my identity now in order to avoid further embarrassment, thanks very much for asking though...

Fresh Breath.

Adia has been having some growing pains lately, so we have been putting Bengay (generic, but like that) on her legs at night to ease the pain. We keep the tube in the top drawer of the bathroom along with a lot of other things, hair clips, fingernail polish, makeup, toothpaste...The tube looks remarkably like the "spiderman blue raspberry smoothy" toothpaste that Ethan uses... (Though the actual cream looks nothing alike, which is why the story is still a bit of a mystery to me)This morning I was cleaning up after breakfast when I hear screaming. This isn't the, my sister just flushed when I was in the shower kind of screaming. It was pain... agony... real. I rushed down the hall just in time to be plowed into by Ethan. "Mom, My mouth is on FIRE! Like... real... FIRE!!!" I can see his eyes welling up with tears. He is dancing around. His breath smells quite spicy, and very unlike a spiderman blue raspberry smoothy. I think maybe he was brushing with my toothpaste instead, but that didn't smell quite right either. He is now rolling on the floor in pain. I rush him into the bathroom and we start rinsing his mouth out, all the while he is screeching that it is getting worse. And now his eyes are burning too because he was wiping the tears away, and there must be some on his hands. Is this something that needs medical attention? Why on earth did we move to a town with no hospital or insta-care? I know I have to find out what the mystery toothpaste is, and fast, before we set anything else to burning. And then I see it, the Bengay. And I remember that lately I have been getting after Ethan for using an un-realisticly huge amount of toothpaste when he brushes. So the poor guy must have a quarter cup of the stuff in his mouth, and you know how that stuff burns and then gets worse and worse. I remember that sometimes if you use soap to wash it off, that helps, so I rinse out the Bengay toothbrush, and squirt a little antibacterial hand wash - Cherry blossom- Thanks Bath and Body Works- onto the brush. I Brush for all I'm worth... and he starts gagging. And then he pukes, and it BURNS his little throat. And we are both in tears, Ethan is still gagging, and Adia is in the background dry heaving. Finally the soap helps, and it starts to cool, and Ethan starts feeling a little better. I rush to grab the phone and call poison control. I tell them that Ethan swallowed Bengay. They ask what happened, and I tell them the whole story - they LAUGH! I find out that if he threw up he should be fine, but to give him plenty of liquids - warm is preferable to cold because the Bengay heat intensifies when it gets cold - wish I would have thought of THAT before I forced him to drink ice cold water strait out of the tap earlier. And keep and eye on him. I hang up. I give him some cocoa. I make Adia some too because she doesn't want to be left out. I clean up the puke. I put the Bengay up on the shelf. Then it hits me, this is pretty funny. I understand why the poison control guy giggled (though, still not very professional.) I start laughing too. Adia joins me. Ethan gets this look on his face that he gives me sometimes, when he thinks I'm really annoying. That makes me laugh harder. I change my puked on clothes, and sit down to blog, because these are the moments of our lives, and wouldn't it be a shame if we didn't share them?

Doves.

Image courtisey of client safari

None of the doves I have been in contact with recently would make a very good picture

So something totally bad is happening. I think it's a sign, and not a good one! Let me explain, and tell me what you think.

I have a big bay window in my room, and when I first moved here I was standing in the window, looking out, and a dove flew right into it. Right next to where my head was. It hit hard too. It splattered... stuff... all over the window, and left a bird shaped smudge of the glass. (really, you could see the head, the wings, everything, and it was totally hard to get off!) It died. I was traumatized.

A few weeks later Ethan ran a bird over with his bike. He didn't mean to, it was just sitting there, and didn't move, and his "brain forgot to tell his legs to stop pedaling" Guess what kind of bird it was... yeah, it was totally a dove.

A few weeks after that the kids and I were going outside. I opened the door, and a dove flew straight at me, hitting the brick next to the door frame, and knocking it out for a second. I stood there looking at it, wondering what to do, when it all of a sudden came alive and flew under the couch. We weren't really sure what to do. It took some coaxing, but finally I moved the couch, and the kids made a mad dash for it. Ethan caught it, and threw it out the door, and nothing got "doved" on, but it was really strange. And pretty freaky.

Then today I was driving down the road on my way to take Ethan to an appointment in Monticello. A group of birds flew right in front of my car, and I hit one. Oops! So I drive all the way to Monticello. As I drive through town I see several people I know, and wave to them. Everyone gives me kind of funny looks though. I know that I have been gossiped about by a few people, lately, and I think it might have something to do with that, so I try not to get my feelings hurt, and keep driving. We stop at the hospital and get out, and then I see it. That "bird" I hit earlier happened to be a dove, and it got it's little head stuck in my grill, and it's lifeless body had been bouncing around on the front of my car all the way from La Sal. Nice right? I had to pry it out with a stick, and then some mean guy yelled at me about not leaving it there in the hospital parking lot. (I pretended I didn't hear him, and left it there anyway. What was I supposed to do with it, stick it in my purse until I found a garbage can?)

So here is the thing. I am getting a little self-conscious. It would be one thing if it was several kinds of birds, but it isn't. It's always a dove. I am trying to figure it out, but the only thing that keeps coming to me is the fact that a dove is the sign of

Peace

and love,

and I keep KILLING IT!!!

This is not a great thing for my life right now. I want love. I want peace.

I don't want to be a "murderer of love!"

(From one of my all time favorite movies - name it!)

So give me a few ideas here. I totally believe in signs, and this totally is one. So what does it mean? I would prefer ideas that are nicer than "murderer of love" but truth would work too:). Let me know what you think. I know several of you love analyzing things like this, so I am expecting some responses here people.

Oh, and here is a little update. I just found out that this kind of dove is called a Mourning Dove. NOT"Morning" like I had always thought. NOT like the happy, sunshiny, fresh start- kind of dove! More like the pain, misery, deep sense of loss- kind of dove!Nice! This can't be good, can it?)

Remember the time I had to wander around a men's restroom in the dark?

This is the sentence I am going to be using to get Ethan to do things that I don't want to for a LONG time. One thing you don't think about when you get a divorce is the public restroom situation. It isn't a big deal when Adia has to go because I can go in too, but when Ethan has to go it's a disaster waiting to happen. I stand outside the door anxiously waiting and hoping and praying that he will make it out without causing a flood or some kind of contention, or an inappropriate flushing incident. It usually ends with me standing outside the door shouting, "Ethan if you aren't out here by the time I count to five I'm coming in, and that's going to embarrass both of us!" Anyway, lately Ethan has had a really bad habit of turning off the light when he leaves a public restroom. Sometimes it doesn't matter, but sometimes there are other people in there, and it is a problem. Usually someone gives a little holler and Ethan will go back in and flip it on again. I'm not sure why he has this problem, he doesn't turn out ANY lights at our house... but back to the matter at hand. Right after the divorce we were traveling a little bit, and we used a LOT of public restrooms. This little lights out problem happened repeatedly, but it was never much of a big deal. Then came the last night of our vacation. We were eating at a restaurant, and Ethan went to the restroom. I was waiting outside the door for him. When he came out he flipped off the light. I started to remind him to turn it back on when all of a sudden a string of profanity came full speed out of the restroom. Somebody had been in there, and he was MAD! Really mad. He had some impressive word-combining skill, and came up with some very colorful sentences. I told Ethan to go back in and turn it on, but he was scooting back against the opposite wall, his eyes the size of dinner plates, and worry etched on his face. Again I said "Ethan, go in there and turn the light on." He looked at me, with is scared little face, and just shook his head slightly.

"Ethan, you have to, that guy is mad!"

Another little shake of the head.

They guy in the bathroom is getting MORE angry, if that's possible. We can hear his frustration through the now closed bathroom door. Something had to be done.

"Ethan, I'm not kidding"

He suddenly springs into life. He takes off toward our table. "I'm going to get Grandpa."

But I know that my dad is already in the truck waiting for us. And now nearly everyone in the restaurant is looking our way, wondering what I had done to make the "Angry Pooper" so vocal. There was only one thing to do. I had to flip the light on. I opened the door, and stuck my hand in. I felt all along the wall, as far as I could reach. Nothing. No switch. They guy is still yelling. He isn't making any effort to come out of the stall and turn it on himself. Several people are still looking my way, but no one is coming to my aid. (Thanks all of you LAZY men!) I swing the bathroom door open wide to allow for as much light as I can get. Then I plunge into the bathroom, which smells just about the way you would think a men's bathroom might smell, only times ten (Yuck! That's how I know to call him the "angry pooper". It was obvious what he was doing in there, and probably that is why he was so mad about the little predicament, and why he made no move to remedy the situation...) I still can't see the switch, and the door is about to swing closed again. Just as the light dims I see the switch on the opposite wall from where I had been looking. I dive for it, just as the light ends. I feel around the wall in the dark, finally find the switch, flip it on, cover my eyes just in case somebody was exposed. I dart for the door, dash across the restaurant and into the freedom of the outdoors, run across the parking lot, jump in the truck and yell for my dad to "GO! Drive!" You would think I had just held up the place or something, but I did need to make a get away, and fast before anyone saw my face. Whew, and then I was safe. But I do think I will avoid Price, Ut and the surrounding areas for a while just in case someone might recognize me! On second thought maybe we should avoid public places all together for a while...

The place to NOT find a date!

In Utah, if you have kids and you are getting a divorce, you are required by law to attend a divorced parenting class to give you tips on helping your kids through the divorce. I actually think it's a good idea. I enjoyed the class and learned a lot. Sure a lot of it was common sense, but some of it was things that I hadn't even thought of, so it was an acceptable use of my morning and my $60. The class lasted several hours, so they gave us a break every now and then. Before the class started I was really impressed with how friendly people were. I walked in, and instantly some guys pointed out a free seat by them that I could sit in. Then we had a good conversation - you know, get to know you stuff, and whatever. But the class started right away, so we didn't have a lot of time to talk. When the break came one of the guys near me offered to show a bunch of us the bathroom and vending machines. (this wasn't his first time in the divorced parenting class... so either he is starved for a good time, or this wasn't his first divorce... either way, he knew the ropes, and I was happy to get a chocolate fix) When we got back to the classroom, I was shocked at what I found. People were exchanging numbers... like for a date! I'm sorry, but don't you think DIVORCE CLASS is the WORST place possible to find a date?! Alright, so maybe not the WORST, there are probably worse places, like...um... prison, or the Gyno maybe, but divorce class has to be on the top 5 list I would think. So it was pretty gagtastic to me, and I declined a few times using the excuse that I wasn't actually divorced yet. (FYI NO ONE was divorced yet, you couldn't get divorced without the signature of the teacher...) Same thing happened at the next break, but this time I noticed a group of people who weren't exchanging numbers and moved out of the "hot seat" to a place next to them.

Then, the last hour of class was opened up for questions. The class was taught by a psychologist, and his advice and perspective was good, so I took advantage of the situation. I had been pretty worried about how Ethan would handle the whole situation. (he has special needs and abandonment issues, so I was worried about how to make him understand it all without feeling out of control. At that point he had been handling it super well. We had great communication, and while he didn't like the situation, he seemed to have a really good grasp on what was going on. I was wondering if that was normal, or if I should expect a blow up at any moment. I also wanted to know of any tips for special needs kids, etc.) A guy nearby -in the non-scuzzy group- mentioned that he had a daughter with Autism, and was concerned about her too. We had a great conversation about it, and both of us got some great advice from the teacher. At the end of the class people who didn't come together were leaving together. There was even some hand holding - I'm not even kidding, you and I BOTH wish I was. Yucky! The guy with the autistic daughter, Sean, approached me and we talked a little bit more about our situations. He was super nice, and seemed like he sincerely cared about his kids,( who he had sole custody of - not that it matters, it just made me feel good about him. ) When I was leaving he asked if he could have my number so we could talk more about our kids and their reactions. (I know what you're thinking, but seriously, the thought never crossed my mind.) At the time I had a photography studio, so I gave him my card with my number on it. He asked if I took pictures, I said yes, he needed some new family pictures -minus the wife- so we set up an appointment for me to do it the next weekend. Throughout the week he called a couple of times to ask me autism questions. He was super nice, and I was happy to have someone to talk to that knew what I was going through. So the day came when we had scheduled the shoot. He picked me up so that he could take me to a spot he had picked out for the pictures. They turned out stunning. His ex wife had the kids for the night, so he dropped them off on the way to drop me off. Then we decided to get ice cream to celebrate the fact that my divorce was finalized the day before. (it was a super fast divorce because of the circumstances, and it really was worth celebrating) Then he took me home. I am not even kidding that I thought we were out on business, not pleasure. I had no idea that we were on a date until he walked me to the door and went in for a kiss! I used my super fast karate chop moves and blocked him as I shouted "I CAN'T DATE YET!" It was not smooth. Not at all.

Needless to say we didn't call and talk about our kids anymore after that. And the next time I went on a date I asked if it was one, just to be sure:)

What's going on here?!?

Well, I decided I need a fun blog. My blog used to be fun, but now it's full of personal things and every day stuff, and things I don't want everyone to know. It has been really healing for me, and helpful, but now I think I'm ready to not take things so seriously anymore. So let the fun begin!

If we are new friends, just met, or you don't know me well, there are a few things you should know in order to understand this blog.

First: I am an open book. I don't hold much back. I like being upfront, and I feel like we can all learn from each other's experiences if we have the courage to share them.

Second: I am divorced. I am an LDS woman (go HERE if you don't know what that means) who thought she was doing everything right, and it turns out she wasn't. I got married in the temple to someone who I loved, and who loved me. We struggled with infertility together which was harder on our marriage than I realized. We adopted two beautiful children, which was the most wonderful gift I could imagine, but it was also really hard, and permanently damaging in ways I didn't realize. We looked like a perfect family on the outside. We went to church, had callings, read scriptures, prayed, went to the temple... I EVEN CANNED! :) But one day, out of the blue, things changed. My husband made some lifestyle changes that didn't include a wife and kids, and there you go! (Out of respect for the situation I won't say what happened... but yeah, it is totally what you're thinking:) So my kids and I moved a million miles away (or like 300, whatever) to live with my parents while I finish my degree in Social Work.

Third: The way I deal with hard things is to laugh about them. I like to find the bright side of even totally crappy situations, and that sometimes means that I make fun or light of things that aren't really that funny. Like divorce. All by itself, it's not a super hilarious subject, but me dating, me living with my parents after 12 years of NOT, me trying to do all kinds of normal family things without anyone there to help, yeah, that's the stuff that epically hilarious stories are made from. (and even if they AREN'T that funny, there's something to be said for laughing instead of crying...:)

Fourth: Kindo goes along with three. Everyone deals with trials in different ways. Everyone has a different opinion. Everyone thinks about things from a different angle. I love that about people. I celebrate that. However, at the end of the day this is MY blog, and this is the way I deal with/ think about/ look at things. I am sorry if I offend you with anything I say. I try hard not to offend people ever, but it happens sometimes. It just does. And I want to know about that. I want to hear your viewpoint. I am in no way finished growing, and if you can help me do that, by all means, share. But talk nice. We all have rights here. You have the right to stop reading if I bug you. I have the right to delete your mean comments, OR publicly mock your stupidity here on the internet for the world to see. (FYI it will usually be the latter:)

Fifth: I say the word "crap" entirely too often. (Not super important, but I felt like there should be a fifth point...:)

So now that we have set the rules, lets have a good laugh at my expense, shall we?