Farewell to Single Mom in the City

Dear friends, family and supporters,

It's time for a new chapter in my life.

To many of you, this announcement comes as no surprise. But for some, the last time you heard from me, I'd just finished out the Last Summer of Twenty-Something, 30 days of blogging, and my 30th birthday.

I re-started the blog that summer, exploring all of the emotions I was turning over in my head about leaving my 20s behind, single-parenting, dating, dealing with grad school, getting over a past and becoming my own person. This blog, like it had for many years before that time, was about documenting those experiences - my rises and falls - and what I learned along the way.

And my God, I learned a lot.

That summer became a pivotal point in my life for reclaiming my independence and understanding exactly who I am. I gave myself permission to explore what I really wanted outta life. Out of other people. Out of me.

But it was only part of a very amazing ride I've taken while living in Colorado. I moved out here never having met the people who had just offered me a job after two over-the-phone interviews. I lived with my son in a hotel until the one-bedroom apartment I'd made a deposit on was vacated. I drove a car that nearly broke down every other mile and was in a relationship that always seemed to do the same.

Why? Why would someone do that? "Why did you move to Colorado?" is what people have always asked.

Truly, there were a number of reasons - some more important than others - but the real answer is sometimes not what people want to hear. And whether or not I moved to Colorado for the wrong reasons, I stayed in Colorado for the right ones.

I stayed because I needed to prove to myself that I could be one my own, without the help (and sometimes overbearing advice) of others.

I stayed because I needed to start from scratch and get out of a place where I felt everyone knew everyone - any my story - around every turn.

I stayed because I wanted to provide a consistent environment for my son, though it meant much more accountability. (That was a painful lesson.) There was no safety net which meant my screw-ups (and car wrecks, and overdrafts) were my problem to deal with. No one elses.

I stayed because I fell in love with the state. With skiing, with hiking, with the mountains and the friends and support system I built in lieu of having my own family nearby.

And I stayed because after a while...I realized I knew what I was doing. I worked my way up in my company. I bought my own home, my first brand-new car, finished my Master's degree and above all: raised a child I was proud of.

That's not to say I was or am perfect. I made mistakes and did things I wish I could take back. We all have those...but then again, maybe not? When I think about things in perspective, perhaps it was all supposed to happen this way and I'm reminded that had I not lived this life out here in Colorado for the last six years, I wouldn't be where I am today.

Which is: Moving to Des Moines, IA.

And, no longer laying claim to the title of being a Single Mom. Nor, for that matter, living in the "city."

As of next week, I will be joining a lovely man, his son and his dog, and along with my son and my dog we'll beginning the next phase of our lives together as a blended family.

(For the record, "blended family" is a term people like to throw around for people in situations like ours. I'm not sure how I feel about that stereotype just yet.)

While it's not my style to spare you the details of how the two of us fell in love and began a journey together that led us to believe we're making the best decision for us, our children and our families, this time I'm gonna have to ask you to trust me on this.

Because he, his son, and his family are amazing. He is a patient and understanding father. He is wise, yet goofy and has the best grin I've ever seen. He's an astounding influence on my son and me. And ... well. Trying to encapsulate all the great things our relationship encompasses would take up an entirely different blog. But I can say that we just fit. We fit in a way I've never understood two people could fit before now.  (get your mind outta the gutter!) Our families and children have embraced each other whole-heartedly. Our lives became entwined easily and just, well, as they say, "blended." And together, he, his son and mine all give me a grounded context in the middle of what sometimes seems is a crazy, crazy existence.

So, though hard to understand ... moving two states and joining our families together is the most rational thing I've actually done in a long time.  It just ... makes sense.

I know. I've become one of those gushy people now, haven't I?

So. To those that said, time and time again, "you just haven't met the right person yet" I'll meet you halfway on this point. Ok. You were right. The right person won't care about the things I'm insecure about. Won't care that I have a slightly crooked tooth, that I'm a single mom, that I'm a little too this, or I'm a little too that. Those are all things that are a part of me and it was pointless to be anything other than myself. Something I tried for a long time to do.

But, the whole "meeting the right person" argument wouldn't have worked if I hadn't known who this someone (Me!) was. And for that, I am thankful for the experiences I've had out here in Colorado that I've documented for the last six years on this blog. The peaks, the valleys, the struggles and the accomplishments that both my son and I have handled. I am thankful for the years of being a single mom and for my truly, truly wonderful son, who is a beautiful soul and saved me from myself on more than one occasion. I am thankful for my amazing friends both here and at home and for my family, who have known me all along the way and still choose to love me. I'm thankful for you ALL, for watching over this journey, for sharing in my triumphs and failures, and having faith in me that I would survive.  I am thankful for the terrible dates, the relationships that were non-starters, the times I spent knowing that I was meant for more and wondering WHEN it was going to happen to me, the doubt, the struggles, the HARD WORK, the therapy (no seriously, really thankful for my therapist), the Last Summer of Thirty-Something, and for it ALL happening just the way it did, when it did.

Because if it hadn't, I would've met the right person and I wouldn't be exactly who I am now, which happens to be the person that a certain someone in Des Moines thinks is pretty amazing.

So I stayed for the right reasons. And now I'm heading to Des Moines for the right reasons too.

Signing off,

-SMITC

Half Mary Keep on Burnin'

So, I did something a little crazy.

I signed up to run a half marathon in just about 12 weeks time from now. A bit ridic. for someone like me, who has never run farther than five miles at once.

And that was when I was in pretty good shape. Right now I am not. I gave up trying to fit in workouts around August of last year as the demands of grad school became too intense. Thankfully, because of the advantages of climbing mountains and preparing for the Colfax Marathon, my body stayed in shape until right about November. Then it all went to hell. And for three months I didn't do jack about it.

Until this month. I knew I needed a goal to work toward...this directionless life after grad school has already started to drive me crazy. I knew I also needed to get back into shape but without a goal I wouldn't do it. And I knew that I needed something on the same level as, oh, I dunno, getting my Master's Degree or it wouldn't seem that cool. So, why not sign yourself up to run a 13.1 mile race, I thought? I can do that!

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but since then I've had some lingering doubts. I've gotten back on the treadmill and into the gym and my easy 3-mile runs get easier and I don't dread them. But kids, I've got to add 10.1 miles to that total. It sort of just hit me the other day that I. CAN'T. DO. IT.

See, this is the problem for someone like me. I do feel like I need to constantly challenge myself...do bigger and better things. It was a mentality instilled in me at an earlier age. But when do you ever get to be DONE? I mean, as if done with grad school wasn't enough? I remember staying up late nights writing papers DREAMING of the day when I had no deadlines nothing looming in front of me. No pressures, no extra curricular activities to worry about and just coasting for a bit.

Where did THAT go? Because the problem with constantly feeling like you need a new challenge is you are constantly DOING something. As my mother likes to say "You just are...in constant survival mode." And she's right...I'm constantly fighting for something it seems like. When do I get to win? And when is winning enough?

I'm not saying that I'm not content, or that I'm not happy or that I don't like who I am and where I am right now. I just know that for me, I will constantly be evolving. Running a half marathon (and completing it) isn't about running for me. It's about constantly testing my ability to DO what I say I'm going to DO. It's what I've proven time and again and what my friends know about me: If I say I'm going to DO it, don't doubt that I will and heaven forbid if you tell me I can't or it's unachievable. (My dad likes to use this little reverse psychology trick. When I signed up for the Colfax relay last year, he expressed doubt I could run 3 miles. And then I'd call him and be all "tough shit, I just ran 3.5 MILES!" and he'd be all "yeah, but that's NOT FIVE miles, which is what you need to run for your race." And then that would piss me off, so I'd go out and run five miles JUST TO PROVE HIM WRONG and then I'd realize "oh snap. I see what he did there.")

And it's above overcoming challenges. There's something about standing on top of a mountain after you climbed it, or at the bottom of one after you flew down it on a pair of skis, or at a finish line after a race that makes you believe in your potential to overcome the things you know stand in front of you in the future ... and the unknown challenges that you have yet to discover. It's what makes it easier to say "well, I'm scared to death to take this next step in my life because it seems impossible. But that's what I once thought about running 13.1 miles too and I survived THAT."

So I keep thinking about that as the doubts creep in that I worry that I've finally come up on a challenge I actually can't DO. But you know, at one point I thought getting a Master's degree was a never-ending journey. I thought moving me and my son 500 miles away from my family was the scariest thing ever. I thought calling off a wedding would mean the end of me. And yet I did it. And lived. This proud Mary keeps on burning.
So why the need to keep pushing myself when I've had my fair share of overcoming obstacles?  Unnecessary self-punishment that I'm cursed with for the rest of my life? Maybe. Or preparation for the mountains and valleys in the game of life that lay ahead anyway? Definitely.

See you at the finish line,

-SMITC

Samson

I cut off all my hair.

My lovely, luxurious thick hair.

The idea came to me a few weeks ago. I knew that I wanted to do this, but just wasn't sure how I would be perceived without what I kind of felt was a signature look. Long locks of hair. Usually falling around my shoulders in waves in every picture I've taken at important events in the last year. I was the girl with the good hair. That was me.

I even had a guy (who is straight) say, twice, how great of hair I have. People have talked about it, my stylist mutters to herself every time she cuts it how thick it is. It's been a part of me.

I've alluded in the past to the fact that I've had some very bad haircuts. Which is why I grew it out so long and for so long. But recently it just got ... old. As in ... I felt too old to have that long of hair and not be a celebrity or a Kardashian (the two are not mutually exclusive.) It was time for an update, to put away the hot velcro rollers and to do something that requires a little less maintenance.

Now, the thing is, I'm always afraid the minute I cut my hair, I'm gonna go all rogue and wear mom-jeans and buy my sneakers from SAS (sorry SAS, I actually love that you're still in business, but I do not buy my kicks from you.) It's like...when one begins to gain weight. Sometimes I see obese persons and you always wonder, when they gained just five pounds, why didn't they start losing the weight then? How did they get to be that obese without doing something about it? (I feel like I'm offending all sorts of people here. The obese. SAS. The obese who wear SAS. Apologies!)

So...when I'm like 60 with my mom haircut and look back, will I label THIS haircut as the one right before I took the plunge to mom-haircut-dom? I'll be all "if someone had just stopped me back then..."

I don't think they will, hopefully, because the haircut turned out quite nice actually. It was modeled after this cut, although I don't pretend to be anywhere in the same ballpark as looking like Jessica Alba.

Blunt edge, no layers, sleek and sophisticated. I'm 30 after all. And graduating with my Master's Degree. And realized that I had the same haircut as I did at 30 that I did in my high school graduation.

So, sort of spontaneously, I called my stylist who happened to have a cancellation that very day. She'd been waiting for me to make this call for a long time because even she knew, that sadly, I was getting too old to have such long hair. She took careful time and consideration, knowing how much it meant to me to get it right. And in the end, I loved, love, loved the result:

First of all, I've envisioned myself with this haircut for a long time, so it wasn't that big of a shock. Second, I realized that I'd been hiding behind my hair for a long time now...I've used it as a shield and camouflage to keep people away...(in a weird sense, I know.) When I told people I was cutting my hair, a few people were all "but you have GREAT hair!" Yes, I do. But that doesn't mean I have to keep it, right?  The truth is...that's what people were seeing. The GREAT hair. And not me.

And in this last year, it has been all about me. Not the hair. ME. And that's what I want people to see first from now on.

XOXO

-SMITC

Looking Back

Looking back, I can honestly say these last four months have been among the hardest in my life.

On the verge of breakdown more than I can count, I made it through, with the help of some very awesome friends. I did take a break from blogging - not going to lie, I was exhausted after 30 days of blogging! - because I realized I needed to cut a few things out if I was going to get to the finish line of the ol' M.P.A., and so I cut out the things I didn't HAVE to do.

The thing is, blogging IS one of those things that keeps me sorta sane. So, it was a bit counter-intuitive not to write my thoughts out. But I just didn't have the time. It was either work, Cael, school and a little extra time for friends thrown in there. There were nights when I got an hour of sleep. Cael would find me on the couch at 7:30 after I'd laid my head down to rest at 6:30 (figuring there was no reason to mess up the bed for just an hour's worth of shut-eye.)

So. Most of you know the story about the long nights and the deadlines for paper and presentations, etc. But what you don't know is what was going on behind the scenes. At work. In me. I can't disclose too much simply because I've promised not to discuss work issues on this here blog. But I can say that because of THIS happening to our parent company in the last year, things have been tumultuous for my company, even though we've managed to mostly stay upright. Benefits were lost. Employees were let go (one who happened to be someone I consider a very good friend) and in the middle of writing my "calling card" as our Capstone project is referred to in my program, I was also vetting health insurance benefits. Dental. Life insurance. Things I never considered before that now seemed so crucial and OH MY GOD, WHAT IF CAEL CHIPPED A TOOTH AND IT COST A THOUSAND DOLLARS TO FIX? WHAT IF I FELL DOWN THE STAIRS AND DIDN'T HAVE SHORT-TERM DISABILITY TO COVER  ME WHILE I RECOVER?

Please keep in mind that when one is low on sleep, emotions are heightened.

On top of that I had to face some things I'd been dealing with, things I'd been hiding from and managed to cover up with a few new friendships this summer and hide from behind all the piles of schoolwork. But eventually, I couldn't ignore those things any longer. I'd been putting them off far too long and most everyone knew this. I'd be all "I'm FINE!" and I was fine, in that I wasn't crying every day, thinking about "what if?" etc. But deep down inside, something wasn't fine, and it needed to be dealt with. It's a hurt that you just sometimes have to deal with and go through, and I'd gotten over all the initial shock over a year ago, but I'd buried the deep down HURT-pit-in-your-stomach-gut-wrenching-it-will-never-be-OK-again feeling that resurfaced mid semester. Normally, I would've called up Dr. Lisa and figured that out, but you know, she happens to be traveling across the country with her family by way of RV. So that's out.

So I wrestled with it. Shouted at it. Dreamt about it. Threw things at it (mentally in my head). Got angry. Got sad. Got motivated. And right around the time of Thanksgiving, I had a moment of clarity about it.

I was sitting in the airport, reviewing some Capstone notes, waiting for Cael's plane to take off. He was going to Nebraska, while I stayed behind to work on my project with some solitude. I was checking work e-mails on my phone while also keeping a careful eye on his plane. (We'd already had our goodbye, but for good reason they don't let you leave until your child is safely in the air. I don't know that I could anyway!)

It was multi-tasking at it's best. And there I was sitting at a tiny kid-sized table next to the gate, getting it all done. From somewhere, deep inside, a voice just said "Hey, look at you." I seriously remember looking up and staring out into the open, busy airport. Like something had knocked on my insides trying to catch my attention. "Look at you. Your kiddo is confident enough to get on a plane all by himself, because you've raised him that way. You and he have the kind of relationship where you lean on each other, but also can stand independently as individuals. You've got a busy job that keeps you on your toes with clients in New York, in LA. And you're writing a document that will help a Colorado non-profit advocate on behalf of better education for children in the next legislative session. Look at you."

And I just paused...there in the middle of DIA to mull that over. I liked me. I liked what I was doing. I loved who my son was becoming and I liked where we were in life. I just ... liked me.

Now, I'm the first to make fun of myself, because Lord knows I can be an idiot. I don't believe in tooting one's horn too loudly. I think it's important to be important, but not to the extent that we make others feel bad because we feel so important. I think it's important to be humble (something my dad always reminds me and I'm pretty terrible at) But - I think it's OK to love ourselves. But I don't talk much about feeling important or loving myself because I haven't really felt that way. Instead, I've felt like I've been searching for someone's approval - namely a certain person's approval - for a long time about why I wasn't OK. Because if that person didn't think I was OK, then why should I?

I sat there, in the airport and just kind of gave that thought a mental "Fuck that. I'm awesome."

The idea reverberated the rest of the weekend. I thought more about it. Then I realized something else:

I am who I am NOW because of what has happened in my past. And this one I had to think about for a bit. Because on the surface - I do a lot of the same things I always have. I cheer for the Huskers. I heart Pearl Jam. I ski. I love cute touristy places. I love a good Happy Hour. I try out new beers, but I'm also learning more about wine. I like to dress up in a fancy pair of heels and I don't mind getting a sitter every now and then so I can have a good time. Family is important to me. I love Colorado, but I also love Nebraska. Yet I also have dreams of moving to a bigger city one day. I'll do things spontaneously sometimes and sometimes I won't. And if you knew me five years ago or even three years ago, you would've agreed with all of those statements.

But the difference is that I now do them for me. And the irony is  - I am exactly who I was "supposed" to be back then, but now, I'm "me" because I want to be. Not because someone wants me to act that way.  Still with me? That one is a bit confusing, so I'll try it again this way: The motivation to do all of these things isn't to impress someone or to go along with someone else doing them - it's because I LIKE to do them.

While driving home this last weekend I had a conversation with my mom about this. Certainly, having this revelation doesn't mean that I don't get down about being single or am bummed that I'm solo this holiday season. I know others are not, and I can't help comparing myself to them. See "things to know about Jill." I'm competitive. So in my mind, there's a winner and a loser. But my mom, bless her soul, reminded me that, sure, I might be single, But through this whole process "you found yourself. You gained YOU. And in my mind, that makes you the clear winner, Jill."

She's right. (She also happens to be my mom, who sorta has to say those things. But she's also right.)

I gained who I am. My motivations. Me. Who doesn't need anyone else's approval to be OK anymore.

I got to this point because of people like my mom, my family, my son, my AMAZING friends (who created an awesome care package for me toward the end of the semester,) because all these people were there - holding my hand this semester and helping me every step of the way. This semester wasn't just a matter of finding the time to write a paper. It was a matter of getting out out of bed when not only did I not want to face the world, I didn't want to face myself.

To you all, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping to repair, little by little all the things that were going on in my life. And ultimately, help repair me to get me to the point where could finally admit, and say to myself,

"Look at you."

And like what I see.

XOXO

-SMITC, M.P.A.http://www.ucdenver.edu/academics/colleges/SPA/Pages/index.aspx

And A Winter Settles In...

Is there a way to just sleep through the holidays?

Or at least, the holiday commercials about proposals?

This is probably the first year that I've been single through the holidays...as in single, single without a hope in sight.

Nary a hope in sight ... despite what my last blog post may have led you to believe.

And I just kinda want to go hide under the covers.

I never really understood certain things until I had to deal with them: death, loss and disappointment.

And now I get it...I get the what the whole bitter-single-woman-during-the-holidays feels like.

I just want to...hide.

And I know hiding isn't the answer of course...I didn't go through the whole "dating as a single mom" series to learn how to go into hibernation.

I know I should count my blessings in other areas. And of course, first and foremost, I have the BEST son ever. Seriously.

But right now...the rest of my blessings seem just really few and far between. And certainly, a proposal as my Christmas gift seems very far out of reach. Maybe that's what it really comes down to...I just don't identify with that right now. Right now, I'm identifying more with Bridget Jones' rendition of "All By Myself"


This weekend: Babysitting, baby shower, Husker volleyball game, Botanic Gardens Boutique Fair, getting the photos taken for Christmas cards and maybe decorating the house for Christmas? (er...at least...taking DOWN the Halloween decorations.)

So I'm moping tonight. Turning off the TV and the stupid commercials. And letting the winter make itself comfortable. Forgive me.

XOXO

-SMITC

Things I like

I like when someone asks about my Capstone project.

I like when someone has really nice arms.

I like when someone can sing out loud and feel comfortable doing it.

I like when someone quotes lyrics from my favorite band's songs.

I like when someone calls when they say they will.

I like when someone takes charge (not that I'm passive ... but sometimes I'm just tired of BEING in charge.)

I like when someone sends funny texts messages.

I like when someone speaks openly and honestly.

I like when someone understands I'm incredibly busy and doesn't push me.

I like when someone understands or can discuss politics.

I like when someone does something that matters.


I like when I find myself thinking about someone and it takes me by surprise.

XOXO

-SMITC