Single Mom in the City

Farewell to Single Mom in the City

2011-09-15T22:42:00.009-07:00

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'

2011-02-11T13:51:00.000-07:00

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

2010-12-17T14:50:00.000-07:00

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

2010-12-13T15:52:00.000-07:00

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...

2010-11-10T21:22:00.000-07:00

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

2010-11-03T10:23:00.000-07:00

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

Over

2010-10-26T17:22:00.001-07:00

To the few people that knew what I was going through last weekend: Thank you. You were the reasons I was able to keep a smile on my face during what was unequivocally one of the hardest weekends I've had to face in a long time.

I hate this side of me - I know you're not supposed to say that about yourself, but it's true. I hate that I am so god-damned EMOTIONAL. That I have the emotional capacity of an audience full of "The View" members all wrapped up in one little 5'7" frame. It's overpowering and exhausting at times, and last weekend was no exception. While I was intensely happy and joyful for some of my dearest friends, a part of me was reaching into the deepest amounts of sadness I've ever known. I spent much of the weekend sobbing in the arms of friends or family in moments when I let my guard down, reapplying makeup and then putting a smile on my face.

But. It. Is. Finally. Over. It ended without even a "Goodbye" and I'm still reeling from that feeling of ... insignificance. It wasn't the way I had pictured it at all. And I probably should've been prepared for that, but after all I've gone through in the last months to finally be ready for this moment ... I still wasn't ready for it.
So, in the next few days, weeks, however long it takes, I'm leaning on friends, and once again, I just want to give a big thank-you to those of you who offered a knowing glance, a hug, a word of encouragement, a pat on the back. I don't plan on ever really talking about it any more than this ... because to do that would be like trying to pry open a door that was intentionally slammed shut. So just know that if I'm absent, absent-minded, or you haven't heard from me ... I'm working through these last pieces of a lifetime that seems a million lifetimes ago. People do this all the time, I realize, and so will I.

That said, I'm really looking forward to the rest of my life. Someone once said to me that having every option open and available to you is sometimes the worst spot to be in ... because it makes it even harder to know what to choose (as I was complaining that she had all this freedom and I was tied down with a kid and a mortgage...complaining in a good way, of course.) And what I realized out of this weekend was that I really do have those options available to me. Anything I want to do, any place I want to go, any dream I want to live is really up for grabs. It's time to decide what that dream is. But realizing that is a soul-searching journey in and of itself. So it's time to end one and begin another.

XOXO

-SMITC

Teacher to Parent to Child

2010-10-18T00:06:00.003-07:00

I'm gonna be honest.

This week has not been the best week. In addition to finding out I would be dealing with some things in person very soon, I got some even more lovely news.

My kiddo hates his life.

Or so he wrote in a story a few weeks ago when prompted to write about "the one wish you wish would come true." He burst into tears and told the teacher he couldn't write about it because "it will NEVER come true!"

Seriously. Drama. Where did he learn that?

The "wish" that would never come true was "I wish I had a better life."

This was the title of his essay. The teacher explained to me that when Cael wouldn't write about his wish, he simply told Cael to write about something else...something not so personal. Cael, bless his heart, chose THAT to be the one day that all my lectures about lying finally settled in and said "No, I don't want to lie."

So, with much counseling, Cael finally wrote the essay. Let me paraphrase:

"I wish I had a better life. I wish my mom wasn't so unhappy. I wish she had more time to play with me on the weekends."

Seriously.

I mean, I know I joke about being the WORST MOM EVER, but there it was in plain English.

I asked when Cael had written the essay, and it appears he wrote it the same week I was working day and night on submitting the first half of my Capstone project. I was under extreme stress and staying up late every night just to get it right. So when you're all "Hey, you didn't blog every day for 30 days like you said you would!" Just remember that um, there were more serious issues going on ... like my kiddo hating me.

After that week, Cael's grandfather came into town and they spent a weekend going to soccer games, local fairs and the park. The weekend after that was fairly busy but we spent most of it together, and that brings us to this weekend. This weekend I was determined not to let him down.

So, we were together all weekend long. No dates. No babysitters. No substitutes. It didn't mean that we did everything he wanted to do or that I didn't get any work done...I just made sure to spend the time we had together wisely. We cheered on the Huskers. We watched movies. We built a spaceship. We picked out pumpkins.

And I made him a calendar so he could mark off every day until mom's graduation. "That," I said, "is when we get to have REAL fun again." I explained to him, as I thought I had before, that I appreciate his patience while I'm in school and that I know he's had to make sacrifices. That this is for us to have a better life one day, and for us to be able to have the freedom to do the fun things on weekend. One day I know this Master's degree will come in handy, and when I started out as a single mom, it was one of the only ways I knew to get a leg up later on in life so that we could be self-sufficient. Three years after I started I now own home, have a new car (God willing) and we're able to fun things every now and then like skiing and flying home to see family.

But I hope for a better future. A future in which we take ski weekends, family vacations with just the two of us to places that aren't where we have family living, don't stress over the cost of the $100 soccer uniform, the boy scout camping weekend and have time and money to visit family and friends.

So, I messed up. I got a little too stressed, didn't plan ahead very well and there was a weekend in there where my kiddo felt ignored. Thankfully, as the teacher pointed out, he's a brilliant writer and was able to put his pain to paper and tell someone. And we listened.

That, my friends, was the silver lining in the parent-teacher conference. I've always known Cael was good at math and I credit his father and grandfather for this skill. It does not come from me. (I have a journalism degree. The only equation we HAD to know by heart was percent-change. That's a large part of why I went into the field...minimal math credits.) But the teacher also praised Cael's writing abilities and said he follows every writing prompt and tool he throws at him, and that Cael, when focused is a very "beautiful" writer. And honestly, because a lot of his writing work doesn't come home ... I had no idea! Even though he chose to wrote about how much he hates his life, his writing was absolutely incredible! Perhaps ... that's the sign of a budding J.D. Salinger. (He also has another fiction "book" he's working on about earthquakes. Look for it in hard-copy in early 2011).

And if that's the case, you can be this mom will be arranging his press tour, driving the tour bus, managing his PR schedule, and running his fan club when the time comes. Then we'll see how he feels about mom not spending enough time with him on the weekends!

XOXO

-SMITC

Slaying the Dragons

2010-10-11T15:14:00.006-07:00

This morning I woke up to darkness.

It's that time of year again where the sun is no longer a reliable alarm clock.

It was a big day. I had a handful of meetings for my Capstone, a project to work on with a classmate and on top of it all ... it was Monday. Which inevitably complicates things.

But all I could do was lay there in the darkness with tears in my eyes. I wanted to crawl back into bed, pretend the sun would never come up and that it would be OK if I could cry for the next 12 hours.

I rarely ever dream about him. I didn't even dream about him when we were dating. In the past year, I've had these dreams off and on and I call them "nightmares" only casually, because they really aren't. They aren't nightmares in the typical sense that I'm fearful of something, I'm scared or something bad is happening.

Typically, he just pops in to say "Hi." I see his smile, remember all the reasons why I loved him and wake up feeling ... alone. I miss him. I miss my best friend. I miss all the things about him that I loved for so long.

So, true to form, last night's dream wasn't a "nightmare."

Except it was different.

Because even though he popped in to say "Hi!" ...

... he wasn't alone.

She was there. This new love of his life. I've heard her about in bits and pieces. I've seen the anecdotal evidence on Facebook and even though he and I haven't talked in weeks, my subconscious decided to remind me JUST how much it still hurts.

Deep down, deep inside.

I lived a summer of LSOTS and I let go of him. I paid for expensive rounds of therapy to get over him. And we've since stopped talking, leaning on each other and partially filling the hole we had left in each others' lives. We've both moved on in so many ways. I've gotten OVER it. I stopped caring what he was doing, where he was or who he was with. Because I was doing MY thing and it just didn't matter anymore. It has no affect on my life, because I refuse to let it.

And I've been enjoying MY life, as last week's post proclaimed. And ... this weekend was no different. I went for drinks with friends, celebrated birthday parties, spent time with the neighbor and my son and relaxed in front of a cozy fire. I'm GOOD, Universe. K? No need to F with me.

Especially the day before a big meeting.

I was numb throughout most of the morning...I bantered back and forth with the neighbor to help feel better (which did improve my mood a bit) and my meetings went off without a hitch (in fact, I had an additional unscripted meeting with one of my professors that I ran into while waiting for the elevator that turned out quite well.)

But now, in the slow part of the afternoon, that feeling of being sucker-punched as I woke up this morning is creeping back in. I buried it this morning, I've buried it all summer and I'm just hoping that eventually it will go AWAY for good. It's a cruel trick played by the subconscious ... because even though I can escape it during the day, it still finds me at night.

The thing is...I don't have any leftover "why not me?" or "why her?" or that kind of blah, blah blah Crap. Our relationship ended because it just DID and wasn't going to go anywhere. Ever. For many reasons that I've learned to get past and just accept.

But I could do without being reminded that somewhere out there in a parallel universe, she's doing the things that we talked about doing. I don't mind, nor do I find it weird that he's found someone to do these things with, that's he's in a relationship ... I've grieved it. I've let it GO. And I'm doing MY own things [And YES: The flip side of this is...I'm doing many of the things WE talked about doing together: Going to see PJ, going to Husker games, Happy Hours, Sunday City Park Jazz, buying a new car!, buying my own home, getting a dog, etc.] I'm dating someone new for goodness sakes. So it's all Evens Stevens, k, subconscious. K? I AM cool with this, OK? NO NEED FOR REMINDERS.

So what if I still can't go to Aspen? So what if sometimes when I can't watch the East coast weather report without a lump in my throat? So what if I can't listen to certain songs, see certain pictures and wear certain jewelry because it all has ties back to him? Small price to pay for moving on, I say.

But ... when people ask me why I'm scared of getting into a relationship ... why I'm scared of getting involved and why I think I'm going to get hurt [or hurt someone else.] I try to explain this feeling, right now. This feeling that over a year later is still holding me captive, a laceration across my heart that refuses to completely heal. And every time I'm for sure I'm ready and can make room in my heart for someone new...I'm reminded that he's still subletting a tiny corner, and expresses his property rights when he sees fit.

It's this feeling that keeps me from diving in, head first. Because no one should wake up to darkness and find themselves in tears missing their best friend on a random Monday morning, feeling like they will never love anyone that much again.

XOXO

-SMITC

Thirty, Flirty and...Thriving?

2010-10-07T13:11:00.002-07:00

You guys, I had the BEST birthday party ever.

Thrown by my two amazing Denver besties, it started out with a girls-only party (This portion of the evening was titled "Thirty and Flirty" but a guy friend of mind kept referring to it as "Thirty, Flirty and Thriving." Meh. I'll take it.) and all my girlfriends showed up to chat and drink girly drinks and open gifts. It was so much fun ... even if I am a little uncomfortable being the center of attention [SOMETIMES], I was just so happy to have my bestest friends, girls I've known for YEARS and new friends, girls I just met this summer to celebrate my 30s with. They showered me with all of my favorite things: jewelry, cute undies, alcohol, Mt. Dew and a glass with my initial in it! As my friend Jess B. would say: PERF!

Then we headed out to a little bar on Colfax, called 3014. I first went to this bar post the Colfax Marathon, and had beers ... and it's just my style: Cute and swanky, but not stuck up. I mean, it's right across the street from Rock Bar, for goodness sakes...you can't take yourself THAT seriously when you're right across the street from a bar that's in the basement of a hotel called "All Inn."

I wish I could recount every memory from that night, but things get a bit fuzzy after a certain point. I've heard lots of fun stories and it sounds like everyone had a great time...I just couldn't believe how many people came out to celebrate - I was OVER THE MOON. I can't describe that night other than just being FUN and feeling very, very blessed and HAPPY.

And then...there was the weekend after my birthday party. It was a bit tough, I have to admit. I'd been looking forward to that party for so long and then I was faced with the reality of having to write a paper that was due the next Monday. I had no choice, and as much as I wanted to revel in the stories of the night before, sleep all day and laugh over cocktails with girlfriends about how fun Friday night had been, I had to hole myself up all weekend while I did homework.

Yep. I'm 30 and I still have homework.

My son's grandfather on his dad's side was in town for the weekend to help me out - he entertained Cael while I got my work done. This was one of the best birthday presents anyone could've given me, [i.e. TIME] because it's one thing to have a lot of homework, but it's another thing to have a lot of homework and know your kid is BORED out of his mind because you can't play with him. A big THANK YOU to the Fitches for helping me out! I could not have met my deadline without your help!

So, I spent a few days moping...the birthday party was FANTASTIC, but then I had to go back to reality. It just seemed ... not as fun. What did I have to look forward to, besides Halloween at the end of the month? (in between which time I have another two papers to write for school, data analysis to do, and a major webinar conference to help host at work. So, in other words, I had a whole bunch of stress and BORING to look forward to.)

And on top of that, Now I'm THIRTY.

Yes, even into Friday night, I still wasn't jazzed about the whole thing. I just can't quite reference myself as being 30 quite yet. I know, I know, I talked about 30 being something you DO, but I just didn't feel like I was doing a very good job of it.

Until today. It took a few days but I finally got to "Thirty, Flirty and Thriving." I think I just needed to get back into the normal routine of things ... it started with recovering my camera from the birthday night (I felt TERRIBLE about that...ugh, I seriously was sick to my stomach about seemingly losing my camera!) and then posting the pics from the evening. Seeing all my friends again and their smiling faces helped.

Then, I made a home-cooked meal, which was like, a FIRST in the last week with all of the school biz stress and lack of sleep going on. And somehow, in the middle of making dinner and watching Glee, I managed to acquire a date for this Friday night ... (er, at least, meeting up with a male friend for drinks anyway.) In the meantime, another guy I met from the birthday night called to "catch up" and ... we'll just see where that leads. And finally, last night's win for my kickball team and the bonding with my teammates (all of whom were also at my birthday party) helped me realize that ... just because I turned 30 doesn't meant the fun is really over.

So, today, when I woke up to this glorious fall day, I put on a cute fall outfit:

(Skinny dark blue jeans, acquired from a swap, Eddie Bauer Le Chameau Rubber Hunting boots, Forever 21 grey cotton button up shirt, Forever 21 silver jewelry, acquired from a swap)

And then I got in my car and drove Cael to school, boots crunching on the fallen leaves near the schoolyard. I stopped in at Starbucks for my regular chai, walked the dog and drove in to work to the sounds of a Wilco song. I've managed to be productive at work this week, make significant strides with my Capstone project (as in: it has become real, I MAY finally graduate in a few months. Holy shiz!) Coordinate schedules with Cael's dad for the holidays, balance the checkbook and even put something in the mail! (Yep. You heard me, I MAILED a card. For those who don't know me, this is a HUGE deal. I HATE mailing things. It's such ... work. Ugh.) And, after work tonight, I'll take Cael to the soccer fields for practice, and then we'll grab dinner on the go and head to visit a friend in the hospital, where we'll take in the Husker game on ESPN in her hospital room.

And then I'll pack it all in and get Cael to bed before hitting the books tonight, with a nice glass of wine by my side. Tomorrow is drinks with a friend and both Saturday and Sunday I have two birthday celebrations to go to.

And as I was counting up all of these things, I realized that even though LSOTS is over, I still have LOTS to look forward to. Today is one of those days where I'm just really happy with where I'm at, who I am and what I'm wearing.*

*seriously, most women out there know what I'm talking about on this one. You could be having a STELLAR day, but if you hate your outfit choice, it ruins everything. But not today!

I may not be able to say this every day, but I can today ... even at age 30. So I will. I'm Thirty, Flirty and Thriving. No question mark.

XOXO

-SMITC

FDOTS!

2010-09-30T14:45:00.002-07:00

Today started a new era.

A new age in my life. 30.

The big THREE Oh..

Which means...today is the First Day of Thirty Something. FDOTS!

Which is funny because ... I've given a lot of thought to how I spent my twenties...but I really haven't thought too much about what I want for my thirties..

So when people keep asking me "How do you feel about turning 30?" I really don't have a great answer.

Thirty? You mean, the age that comes after LSOTS? Because I thought the world just kinda stopped when LSOTS was over. You mean there's more?

The thing is ... I don't mind being 30 at all. It's just that I don't FEEL 30. I've always seen people in their 30s as wise, mature, smart and just ... put together.

To give you an idea of what my morning looked like in contrast to the above description: I accidentally fell asleep early because I was studying, to be awoken, thankfully, by an early Happy Birthday text. I walked the dog in sweats with rollers in my hair, and ironed a pair of dress pants on my BED while brushing my teeth.

That is definitely not the picture of 30 to me. Inside I feel like the 25-year-old who is constantly in survival mode. I do not FEEL wise, mature, smart and put together.

But perhaps it's how the rest of the day went that solidified that perhaps I am, in fact, nearing an age where things are all starting to make sense. I got Cael dropped off at school, stopped in at Starbucks for my "usual" and headed to a meeting for my Capstone project. Now, here's where NORMALLY, in my 20s, I would've spilled said chai all over the white sweater I was wearing, rear-ended someone on the way, showed up late and had something stuck in my teeth.

But, despite the way the morning seemingly started, I got to the charter school office on time, had time to lint-roll my pants before walking in (I'd grabbed the lint roller on the way out of the house) I conducted a taped interview with my source, met with the president of the organization and had some very enlightening discussions about the results of their data I'm analyzing for my project.

All on about 3.5 hours of sleep.

After that I headed to my appointment at the salon - one I'd booked for myself when I realized I'd be taking the morning off on my birthday anyway. I took the plunge and told her that in addition to my regular trim, I wanted bangs.

"Bangs?" she said

"Bangs." I said. She wasn't questioning me because she didn't think it would look good ...it's just that I've gotten the exact same haircut for over a year and a half. "Maybe you want to sleep on it?" she asked.

"Bangs." I said.

So she did just that. Admittedly, after so many bad haircuts in my twenties, I've often been afraid to change up my look. But I was just ready for a change that I really didn't decide on until I was sitting in her chair. Like my meeting this morning, I went into it with little prep .. but it too seems to have worked out (you can decide for yourself! See below.)

However, I still can't say I FEEL 30.

But maybe 30 isn't something you FEEL, necessarily. Maybe it's something you just DO.

And if there's one thing anyone can say about me...it's that I'm a DO-er.

So I'm gonna DO 30 the only way I know how: Full Speed Ahead!

XOXO

-SMITC

Goobye to LSOTS

2010-09-30T14:43:00.004-07:00

I've broken down how I feel about turning 30 and what I learned during LSOTS into two different blog posts because the more I thought about it ... there was just too much to say. I've been writing about my twenties all week, actually, but I wanted to save a post to say something, specifically, about this summer.
LSOTS.

When LSOTS started, it was all about wearing my Husker Butt shorts to the pool, doing things because I COULD and learning to not feel badly about the freedom of a kid-free summer. I met new people, got to know new friends, stayed up til all hours of the morning, hiked 14ers, dated here and there and just took the time to enjoy life.

It was a way to recapture my youth one last time. To do the things I wanted because I COULD.

What I didn't realize, however, is what I would learn in the process. As I already alluded to, I learned that though I am content being single, sharing joy with others is one of the best blessings..

Which, of course, is a nice realization to come to.

But, more importantly (for me) I learned something about myself.

And not in the "I'm OK being single!" kind of way.

(I mean, I did learn that, but that was more of a year-long process.)

I learned ...

... that I can change.

I know, this seems...ridiculously obvious, right? Nothing too earth shattering for normal people.

For me? Not so much.

I'm a creature of habit and I tend to do the same things over and over again. I had the same fights with my ex-boyfriend, over and over again, and the end result would always be the same.

I meet the same guys over and over again, and the end results are always the same.

I create expectations for myself and others (that go unfulfilled because they aren't realistic) and the end results are ... (let's say it together now) ALWAYS THE SAME.

You know how...you do something and you can't even ever imagine doing it a different way? EVEN THOUGH IT'S NOT GOOD FOR YOU? But you just can't even fathom an alternative?

Yeah, that's kind of what it's like in my head most of the time.

But something about this summer was different. Perhaps it was that I was giving myself the freedom to do whatever I wanted without having to justify it. Perhaps it was the overall context of the summer.

Or perhaps I was just ready.

Either way, I found myself slowly making different decisions for myself than I normally would have. I found myself taking charge of situations I normally would normally be passive about and I found myself doing things I thought I could not do.

And I surprised myself by how easy* it was to buck the system, break the habits and just ... do the right thing. I think for so long, I was afraid of certain outcomes, how people would see me and what they would think. (which, I have come to realize, was just my own judgement of myself.) So I didn't take a stand, say what I needed to say, or do what I needed to do.

*in retrospect. It was hard at the time, but now looking back over the last few weeks I'm all "why didn't I do that years ago?"

(Here's where you're all "stop being so vague! Enough of the vagueness!")

So let me make it more clear:

I finally got rid of a very unhealthy relationship ... one that has defined the last few years of my life and permeated the last seven. Even after it was over, it wasn't over. We would still talk every day, e-mail a few times a week and call each other up late at night when we needed to feel wanted.

Basically, it was like having a boyfriend, without having a boyfriend PRESENT.

Which would be all fine and good if that were actually a good thing. But you know, half the point of having a boyfriend is having someone to make out with. Am I right, or am I right?

Friends would tell me I needed to let go, but I just couldn't...because if I did, it meant I was ... alone.

A. LONE(R).

So it became like a security blanket of sorts ... and I clung to it for validation. I just wasn't ready.

Until one day ... I was.

I just ... didn't need the validation anymore. At least from him ;)

We eventually just stopped talking. Before I knew it, weeks had gone by and we hadn't even exchanged a random e-mail about our mutual friends. So, by the time the fateful birthday e-mail came around I was just sorta...

Over it.

Finally.

Yes. Finally. I'm not saying that I don't miss him or that I don't ever think about him. But I just no longer have that crack addict need to ... care.

It took me seven years and one LSOTS to get me there, but I finally did.

I ... (and I dare you to try to sing this without the melody to "Man in the Mirror") changed my ways.

(BTW - Can I just say something? You have NO idea how I'm cracking myself up over this post as I write it. It's been so hard to ignore ALL the ridiculous cliches, quotes and music ever written about change. I had to throw at least one in there!)

And so, the one thing I'll remember about this summer, this Last Summer of Twenty Something? The one thing, above all others?

Is that you're never too old to change. Whether that be your appearance, your goals, your job or...simply ...

Your life. But you're the only who can. And you don't need an LSOTS to do it.

So what are you waiting for?

XOXO,

-SMITC

SBux

2010-09-29T16:08:00.000-07:00

Let me first apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors in the last post.

(I've had about a 3 hours of sleep and I edited it on the fly before publishing it this morning. )

People keep asking if I'm excited for my birthday and honestly ... I don't even have a reaction to it yet because ... I feel like I've got a good half marathon or so to run before Thursday (and the subsequent big birthday bash on Friday).

Today's hurdle was getting through my policy analysis class and pretending to completely understand the equations being used to measure Cost Benefit Analysis.

Tomorrow's hurdle is a meeting with the League of Charter Schools and staying up late tonight again to prepare the data for said meeting.

And then I can finally say "Yes - it feels like my birthday!" For I have scheduled myself a haircut (and after my charter school meeting have taken the rest of the morning off...to fit in said haircut into my schedule.)

Until then, the friendly employees at my local Starbucks have gotten used to seeing my face and know my order(s) by heart.

Oh yes, I said orderS.

When I just need a little boost, it's a Iced Chai (with nonfat milk).

When it's an all nighter like last night, it's a Latte (which means that yes, I've officially started drinking coffee.)

And they even give me little perks...like upgrading my "tall" to a grande, and free syrups and such. They know I'm spending a boat load of cash there this semester and they are keeping me afloat.. Literally.

But honestly, there's something to be said for walking into a place in the morning where everyone knows your name, being greeted with a smile and being told you look nice (even when you look like crap!) The funny thing is ... that somedays ... it's not even about the caffeine. It's just about someone being NICE. Totally worth the cost of a chai!

XOXO

-SMITC

Me Too, Mom. Me Too.

2010-09-29T10:22:00.005-07:00

This weekend, Cael and I went to a church service at Applewood Valley United Methodist Church. Home of our favorite pastor, Carolyn Waters.

Except, she wasn't there this week. Instead, the youth of the church lead the service. To be honest, I wasn't enthused about this, because I'm fond of Carolyn's very inspiring sermons. However, the youth did an amazing job, especially when they led the congregation during a very special prayer. Among the number of exercises, they instructed us to write down the one thing that has changed our life the most.

In the area on my bulletin given to us to write in, I wrote down these words:

The day Cael was born.

I honestly didn't even hesitate. Cael, being old enough to read, looked down at what I had written, looked up at me and smiled. I hugged him closer and we leaned in together to finish the prayer.

This week, I counted down some of the dumber things I did in my twenties. But one thing wasn't on that list, and that was the decision to become a mother. When I found out I was pregnant in 2002, I was scared to death. My parents were scared to death and I think we all went through a bit of a shock. This wasn't the way I had planned things; I was doing well in my journalism program at the University, I was hopeful of one day becoming a big shot journalist and up until that moment, things had always just come ... easily. Finding out I was pregnant was a big game changer.Obviously.

But I was so young at the time, I didn't even grasp the brevity of the decision I was making. I was having a baby and I'd figure out the rest as it came. At the time, that's what it was: it was a baby. Not a child that I'd raise for the rest of my life, just simply, a baby. I don't even think it occurred to me that a BABY would one day grow up. I was too busy dealing with how to tell my family, my coworkers, my professor and live with the consequences of being pregnant, unwed and still on my parents' insurance.

I see my friends having children now and I'm simply amazed at all of their experiences and decisions they're making that I don't even remember giving much thought to. Cloth diapers or Pampers? Stay at home parenting or child care? Bottle or breast? I made decisions at the time based upon availability, our income (or lack thereof) and ease. Because I was young and simply didn't know any better. In my view, babies were harmless and everything would be fine.

This was...midway through my pregnancy? A good friend of ours took these photos. While I love them and am glad I have photographic proof of this time in my life...there's something ... missing. Something behind those eyes that tells you just how scared I was ... not because I knew what was ahead, but because I just really just ... had no clue.

My pregnancy was not the easiest ... I was still a student at the time, working late nights at the campus newspaper and eating whatever was closest. I developed a skin rash, called PUPPS [If you're the type that wants to gross weird photos, click HERE for more] that only 1% of pregnant women get ... it was one of the worst things I'd ever experienced and I wouldn't even wish it upon my enemies. (Again, check out the pics to actually understand how ridiculously painful it was.) And despite feeling like I had morning sickness through my entire pregnancy and wasn't able to keep down much food, I managed to gain an extreme amount of weight ... 80 lbs to be exact. I remember standing on the scale, looking down and seeing it go past the 200 lb. mark.

And let me tell you, 200 lbs. does not uh, look good on me.

Taken on my graduation day, May 2003. One month before Cael was born.

I was afraid, ashamed and simply ... exhausted. I had given up on being "me" as pregnancy took over my body. (The picture is intentionally cropped because the rest of me looks like a tent in my graduation gown. I could've smuggled small children across the stage as they handed me my diploma...)

It's taken a lot of thought and consideration on whether to share that photo with you. But I decided that the only way to show just how far I've come, is to really show where I've been. Yes, the actual physical changes are easy to see ... but it's the ones you can necessarily "see" that are more important:

Actually becoming a mom, feeling comfortable with my body and embracing of who I am and where I am in my life.

All things that haven't come about very easily.

Becoming a mother changed the course of my life forever, and every choice I would ever make thereafter

But being a mom is something entirely different. Being a mom is in the day-to-day details of everyday life. It's being the person that someone depends on. It's being the one responsible for another life. It's worrying about some one's future. Constantly. I've found that, [for me], being a mom means never giving up [oh, and I have been on the verge!] and loving something bigger than yourself. Making decisions with someone other than you in mind and realizing that ... it ain't all about you anymore.

By becoming a mom at an early age, I'm in a different category than most of my peers. I can't go out on a whim for a Happy Hour if I decide to. I can't pick up and travel whenever I feel like it. I can't enter into a relationship without having a big conversation and I tote my kid along with me wherever I go [for instance: he goes with me to my kickball games every Wednesday night...and though there are no other kiddos on the sidelines.]. And for a long time, I struggled with this...this being DIFFERENT..I struggled with not feeling like I fit in. And, I struggled with feeling like all of my friends viewed me as "struggling." As in "oh, our friend Jill, the poor, struggling single mom."

But ... what I came to realize in the last year is that I'm the one who put that stereotype on myself. I was the one who thought everyone saw me as "struggling" because I was struggling with being comfortable in my own self. Finally, a very good friend pointed this out to me with a "Ummm...did it ever occur to you that maybe YOU'RE the only one who sees you that way?"

Woah. Talk about being a little bitch-slapped.

"But, but but!" I would say, "There's this, this and this! Exhibit A, B and C about how I'm DIFFERENT than you!"

"Yeah, we really don't care about that," was always the reply.

And I realized that acceptance with myself wasn't a battle I needed to fight with my friends and how they viewed me. It was a battle with how I needed to fight within.

Which wasn't an easy task. After ending a very long relationship that spanned much of the last decade, I was a little ... lost. I envied my friends in relationships and marriages. It felt like ... I was single which meant I must not be good enough and something was wrong with me because nobody wanted me. I didn't deserve it. [Yes, I recognize this is a HUGE hyperbole, but when the ONE person whom you're in love with doesn't want you, it seems like NOBODY will want you.] So I made the decision to enter counseling because my friends were simply tired of hearing me whine and honestly ... I was tired of feeling hopeless too.

Finding an amazing therapist isn't THE most life-changing event of my life ... certainly not one to write down on the church bulletin, but it was significant. I worked with an amazing person who helped me remember what makes me ME and remember exactly who I am. And through that process, not only did my sense of self improve, (i.e., I am not worthless if I am single) but I was able to be a better person to everyone around me: my family, my friends, and most importantly, my son.

Therapy was simply one the best things I've ever done for myself. But there was one last hurdle to tackle.

As you can see by the above picture, pregnancy (and PUPPs) and having a child has also meant that my body has been forever changed. I never claimed to have wash-board abs before having a baby ... but at least I had abs. Very close friends know how much this has bothered me ... and no amount of running/working out/sit ups will make the damage to my abdomen go away. It's a scarlet letter I'll carry around with me for the rest of my life. And that's how I viewed it: as a burden. I'd lie in bed at night, kept awake by the fear that EVEN IF I fall madly in love with someone, what would they think of me after seeing my stomach? Would they be attracted to me? Would they accept it? Would they ... still love me?

This has been an ongoing and consistent worry for me for a very long time.

So, being in the post-therapy "I'm awesome and I can change my life!" mood I was in, I consulted with a plastic surgeon this year about my options. However, for the amount of money it would take to fix my post pregnancy body, I realized that it was either fix my body or say ... have a college fund for Cael.

So I decided it just wasn't worth it. I'm not actually THAT vain, that I would limit the chances of my child's educational future simply because I want to one day wear a swimsuit that doesn't come from the "mom" section. Which meant that I finally had to face the toll my pregnancy took on my body as something I simply can not FIX and I have to live with it. A tough pill to swallow at first.

Eventually though....something just ... changed. I don't know if it was the fun I had during LSOTS, the acceptance of my body by another person very close to me, or simply DECIDING that I was not going to let it define me ... but, like being a parent in an age when most of my peers where childless, I just accepted that it is a part of me. It's a part of who I am.In many ways it has changed me and for the better. It has humbled me in ways I could never imagine and set me a part from others. Still ... that actually may have been good for me in many ways. Because it's a reminder that despite my many attempts, I AM NOT PERFECT. And I never will be. And ... that's OK.

I'm not saying I now go around in bikinis and bandeau tops since coming to terms with my stomach ... but I do feel like it's less of an "issue" to have to deal with when meeting someone new and it's not quite as big of a fear as it once was. Eventually, someone in my life will either accept it or they won't, and ... to hell with them if they don't!

(Trust me, it wasn't as if that advice wasn't given to me countless times over the years by my very well-meaning friends. But it just took some time for me to grow into.)

But you know what? All of this ... this understanding, these realization and acceptance of myself came about because I became a mom. Like I wrote down in the bulletin at church this weekend, being a mom has been the one event that has forever changed my life, for which I am absolutely grateful. Becoming a mom has certainly been a work in progress ... even more-so in the last year. I've grown up more this year in my adult life than in any other. Much in part because of the support of my wonderful friends and family and ... and my amazing son who I simply wanted to be better for.

I am comfortable in my own skin, in this life that I lead, and where ~~I'm~~ we're going as we march on toward our future. I know I'm not done growing, learning and accepting things about my life, but I feel like ... I've finally learned at least ...how.

I leave you today with a conversation I had with my own mom just the other night: Remember when I said that it's the changes you can't "see" that have been the most important in the last year?
As it turns out ... the people that know me the best have actually "seen" those too. My mom and I were discussing the very big and mature decision I made in the last week regarding a relationship and what I wanted out of it and wanted for myself. My mom has watched me struggle in relationships ever since I started dating at 15 and for the most part, I've repeated the same patterns over and over again. Until last week. She explained that after hearing about my decision and seeing my my [Facebook] status updates and photos from the weekend, she could see that I am happy and comfortable with my life. Just the way it is..

"I can just see that you are really comfortable with who you are, what you want and it shows. I'm just really proud of you Jilly."

The thing is ... I can't tell you how many times, since becoming a mother, I've called up my own mom to say "you remember when you used to get mad because as teenagers we would never empty or load the dishwasher? Yeah. I'm SORRY. Wow. That was really crappy of me, because this having to do it all on my own bidnez? It sucks."

Which means ... when your own mom tells you that she can SEE how happy you are and that she's proud of you and the adult you've turned into ... you realize that you're doing something right.

And I can honestly say that I'm pretty proud of me too.

XOXO

-SMITC

P.S.

I'm not discounting the impact of LSOTS which officially ends on my birthday! Stay tuned tomorrow for my retrospective on LSOTS ... at which time I will conclude 30 blogs in 30 days.

Just Boogers

2010-09-28T14:36:00.000-07:00

Somewhere along the line, Cael learned how to [and I can't believe I'm typing this] hock up a loogie.

I don't know who taught him or if this is something boys just innately know how to do, but every once in a while, I'll hear it ... from the backseat of the car, while he's in the bathroom, occasionally when he's playing soccer. Now, I'm not saying I've never done this ... I mean .. who hasn't in the comfort of their own home? Or while running? (or once uh, while at a park with a friend, maybe? I think Jess will never let me forget that...) but I don't remember specifically doing this around Cael.

So, being a girl, I usually say something in disgust when he does it. Like "Ewwww. Gross."

And Cael, being Cael, totally justifies this as a naturally occurring bodily phenomenon.

"What?" He'll say "Your nose is connected to your mouth and sometimes you get boogers in there."

Plain and simple mom, why you freaking about BOOGERS in your mouth?

So then I usually counter with "Well, do you EAT the boogers you pick out of your nose?"

To which he replies "I don't PICK my nose."

And then the point is moot and he thinks I'm the dumbest mom ever.

So this morning, while rambling around the house ... I absentmindedly ... [again, I can't believe I'm typing this] hocked one up. I was standing by the laundry closet, next to Cael's room ... whom I thought was asleep.

But from behind an almost-shut bedroom door, I heard a little voice call out and say:

"See!!! It's JUST BOOGERS!"

And that's how I started my my day.

-SMITC

Beautiful Disaster

2010-09-28T09:16:00.002-07:00

So I started thinking about all of the dumb things I did in my 20s.

Like, REALLY dumb things.

In many ways, I'm lucky to be alive. Er, at least, have all of my limbs. And the thing is, I know I'm a smart person, because I'm reminded of every time my dad sighs when I have to tell him the latest report about something. Then there's the pause and the ..."Come on, Jill, you're smarter than that!"

I always counter that "Smarter" is a normative statement. Sure, in theory I should be smarter, progeny of a doctor and all. But in reality, I'm an idiot. Seriously. Deal with it, DAD.

For instance:

1. I once stapled my thumbs together. Technically, I might've been 19 when I did this because I was living in the dorms at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln at the time but ... yeah. I had to knock on my RA's door, hold up my thumbs and ask her for help. Naturally, she directed me to the student health center for an extraction. I'll never forget the look on her face though.

2. I once got a "Minor in Possession" charge one summer. Some friends and I were going to a party and decided to stop the car on the side of a road in some neighborhood because we all had to pee. We got out, did our business and got back to the car to find the cops, standing there, waiting for us. Oh, but the fun didn't end! They extracted all of the alcohol and paraphernalia (and by paraphernalia, I mean, BLENDER, that we thought we should take to the party because we really wanted mixed drinks when we got there) set it on the hood of their car and took pictures of it.

3. I got in far too many car accidents. I mean ... just too many to count. Every day I walk out to my car now, I think "wow, I can't believe this is my car. Too bad it'll be wrecked one day." Seriously, it's a mentality I have to take, even though I am driving much more cautiously than I ever have before. (The actual count of car accidents I've been in is around 10, by the way, if you must know. And yes, my insurance sucks. I once drove through ...actually, under a fence. I once nearly drove a car nearly off a cliff. I've run into gas stations, my parents' friends car, park cars ... if you can name it, it's probably that I've run into it.)

4. I once went to sleep with bread bandaided to my face ... voluntarily. This is a much longer story than I can go into depth on but ... needless to say, mice were involved.

5. I once got into a car with a random stranger on a rainy day in Monterrey, Mexico. Technically, though this sounds like one of the dumbest things I've ever done, it actually worked out quite well for me. My friend and I couldn't get a cab home from school that day to save our lives and our only other option was walking home in the rain. Some random guys pulled up and offered us a ride and ... well, we were dumb and young. We got in.

As it turns OUT, one of the guys had studied in Lincoln, NE and had LIVED with one of my very good friends. I love how this story ends because in one alternate reality, I'm lying dead by the side of the road after getting a ride from a stranger. The way it worked out though, I got a ride home in the rain and called up my
friend back home to be all "Hey, remember that foreign exchange student you had that one year? Yeah, I just met him IN A RAINSTORM."

(which just goes to show that not all dumb decisions are necessarily bad ones. Once involving blenders, alcohol and driving though...are. JUST SO YOU KNOW. Are you listening, Cael?)

6. I once accidentally ate dog biscuits (in my defense, said doggie biscuits were in a cookie jar.WHO KEEPS DOG BISCUITS IN A COOKIE JAR?)

7. I drove when I shouldn't have. This one is a serious one kids. I took way too many chances behind the wheel and put lives in danger. I'm much more responsible and aware now, especially being a parent, and will gladly pay cab fare or stay over when it's absolutely necessary. DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE. OR DRIVE WITH BLENDERS.

8. I once posted on this very blog about a coworker. Who read it. And then sent it to my boss. Thankfully, I have a really cool boss and that coworker no longer works for my company. (She actually quit as a result of my blog. Meh.) Which is why I don't blog about work very often, and when I do, no details are given. I like my job too much.

9. I once broke my face open on the side of a mountain trying to impress a boy. I once drove in back-to-back traffic AFTER climbing a 14er just to show up to a party ... for a boy. I once made a cross-country trip ... on a whim ... for a boy. I once stayed out all night, walked down Colfax Avenue at 5 a.m. trying to catch a cab and got no sleep at all ... all before hopping a plane to see family ... for a boy. I once put on makeup just to walk the dog ... for a boy (That was last week, by the way.). There's a theme here and it's called "TRYING TOO HARD...FOR A BOY."

10. Oh yeah ... I once threw a Big Gulp at somebody...

Just to name a few. I'm sure there's a few dumb parenting things in there as well and I'm sure I'm not done doing dumb things ... but let's hope that in my 30s I'll be a little bit more careful with my decisions, not act so much from an emotional place and for goodness sakes, STOP DOING THINGS JUST FOR THE SAKE OF IMPRESSING A BOY. I'd like to think I'm wiser and older, more mature and more confident in myself and all but ... as I look through the list, I also realized that some of those stupid things or times in my life were when I met some of the most amazing people ... and very good lifelong friends who have loved me, despite all of my dumbest moves.

No, I wouldn't say that I'd do all of those stupid things over again (see #7!) ... but some of them I would. Because being part idiot is me. I'm never going to be the fabulous girl who is always put together and has her head on straight. It just ain't me. I will be the girl who who will make you laugh by telling you a funny story about how she followed an old Mexican wives-tale and came face to face with a rodent. I will be the girl who is probably hopelessly falling for people she shouldn't be falling for (although, I AM getting better about that) and I will be girl who probably still has another car accident left in her before her time is up.

That is who I am. It's who I've always been. And I really feel like I spent a lot of twenties TRYING to be things like ... demure, poised, brilliant. Trying to be somebody who had it all together. Trying to be perfect.

And one of the things I'm learning about myself now is ... I like me just the way I am.

More on that to come tomorrow ... the LAST day of my twenties. Viva la LSOTS!

XOXO

-SMITC.

Let the Pampering Begin...

2010-09-28T09:14:00.001-07:00

So it being my birthday week and the last week of my twenties AND I feel like I look like an old tire...

...I booked myself for some spa services. Tonight after work I'm headed to Coldwater Creek Spa to cash in a gift certificate and get myself a little pedicure and facial treatment. My bestie, Chrissy, is watching Cael and I'm going to sit back, relax and just allow myself a little "me" time.

And since I was getting pampered this afternoon, I decided to dress up a little bit for work today: Skinny jeans, Nine West Taupe Leather peep-toe heels, casual linen top with crochet detail at the top and taupe blazer. Everything, except for the shoes, by the way, are swap items! Which just goes to show what amazing taste my friends have.

(Dude. ignore the messy bed/office behind me. I'm not even going to TRY to pick that mess up until the end of the semester.)

I may be almost 30, but hell if I can't rock the skinny jeans.

XOXO

-SMITC

Pasketti!

2010-09-27T18:30:00.001-07:00

Because I'm tired, I fell back on an old stand-by for dinner tonight. Spaghetti. Easy to make, ingredients all on hand.

Throw in some garlic bread and a side of peas and we had dinner.

We haven't had spaghetti in ages because well ... we had spaghetti a LOT when I was growing up (ironically when my dad was going back to school and was insanely busy...) and I'm just sorta over it.

But Cael loves it.

So when I asked him tonight what he would like for seconds and he answered: "More pasketti please!" my heart melted. He doesn't know that we had 'pasketti' because I'm too tired to come up with something more creative. He doesn't know that it's not even GREAT spaghetti (i.e. sauce from a can. I know. The HORROR.) All he knows is that it's PASKETTI, one of his favorite meals.

That's just how he says it: PASKETTI. We've never corrected him because it's just too darn cute.

And so is he.

XOXO

-SMITC

30 Years of Bad Hair

2010-09-27T10:21:00.003-07:00

Here's the deal about my hair:

I have a slight obsession. I know I'm turning 30 soon and at some point, it's sorta inappropriate for me to have this much hair...and I need to cut it into a nice little tamed coif but...

I just can't.

Not after having bad hair for so long. I finally LOVE. MY. HAIR. There, I said it. I have this long, thick brown (did I mention thick?) hair and I've spent years trying to tame it, color it, deep condition it, thin it, cut it, straighten it and curl it and finally...FINALLY as I near 30, I love my hair.

I offer you up state's evidence #1, 2 and 3:

(or, as I like to call it: "If you feel like an ugly duckling in your teens, just wait, I PROMISE, it gets better!)

(Bestie Chrissy and I...taken earlier this summer)

(This was actually taken on my birthday LAST year...so technically, I've only had bad hair for 29 years!)

(Every once in a while I like to keep it straight...)

And I'm proud to say I love my hair because I've HAD such bad hair over the years. I've spent some time going through old photos and ... it's been bad. Let's take a little walk down memory lane, shall we?

First, there were the permed years:

(my sister and I...probably around 1988 or so...marked by pleated pants and tucked in shirts)

Then there were the awkward pre-teen years (1993 or so?) and my Mary Lou Retton bob.

(This bob also converted into a mid-aged Midwestern housewife look when I added curl to it. Note to 14-year-old self: Put down the curling iron.)

Eventually I tried to grow it out in 1996:

And also tried to be Claire Danes in My So-Called Life in the process.

Things got a little better from here on out...Around 1998 or so I started growing it longer to catch up with my peers who had had long hair ALL of their lives...

But then I found out about highlighting and ... took it to the Max in 2001. (Notice the roots. Keeping up blond hair when your real hair color is essentially dark, dark brown is uh, very time-consuming.)

And then, you know, in my early years as a mom, I didn't really HAVE time to do my hair.

So for most of my adult life, it has often looked like this:

(Note the highlights. Also, where the hell am I in this photo?)

So this week I scheduled a pedicure (I don't know about you, but painting my toenails is one of the things that we girls have to do if we want to be a card carrying GIRL and I HATE painting my toenails. Hate it. That and plucking my eyebrows. Which you can see I did not do until oh, I got to college or so.) facial and a haircut as a little present to me on my birthday. (I also have a lovely gift card for spa services from Mother's Day I've never used!) I have found a hairdresser whom I trust with my tresses (after explaining to her my long, LONG history of having terrible hair and how if she F*#%s up my hair she's dead to me) and, like every hair dresser, every time I sit down in her chair, she's all "My god, you have thick hair!"

Tell me about it. But some how, she's able to make it work and gives me just the right about of "I'm still in my 20s!" and "mom" in my cut ... so we've remained friends...for now ;) (She's young and a mom herself like me. We bond!) And, for the first time in years, I have no coloring in my hair. What you see now is what you get ... it's all natural (not that I'm opposed ... it just simply takes up too much time and money for me to keep it up on my own...Plus, my mom is like, the BEST cap highlighter EVER, and living so far away makes it difficult for her to keep my roots looking nice!)

And ... I can proudly say that I like my hair. I like my style. I like that I can let it air-dry and it dries into these lovely little waves that are sweet and innocent, or that I can vamp it up with hot rollers and wear it all big and Kim Kardashian style. I love that it looks cute in ponytails, headbands, hats and pull halfway back and that it helps set the tone for my 'look.' For years and years I wanted hair like this and now that I have it, I'm reluctant to let go. (And sorta scared. I like short hair but ... after seeing all these years of short hair mistakes, I'm wary.)

But at the same time, having terrible hair for so long also allowed me to learn not to take myself so seriously. When you make a mistake with your color (I was a bright RED with orange streaks for a good two weeks in college once) you realize that it's not the END of the world. You are much more than who you are on the outside and yes, while a bad haircut can certainly mean a terrible few months (or YEARS. See 1992-1994 for me.) it also gives you a better perspective on what really matters.

Yeah, yeah yeah. All that aside, I just wrote an entire blog post about my hair. I'm not a total existentialist.

So. Here's to 30 more years of better hair, learning from my mistakes (never, ever highlight by yourself when you have this dark of hair) and being able to laugh at the old ones.

THREE DAYS PEOPLE! VIVA LA LSOTS!!!

XOXO

SMITC

Messaging

2010-09-24T09:00:00.007-07:00

Here's the thing.

I'm a big believer in the "Universe" [please use the word 'universe' to mean whatever you WANT it to mean: God, deity, powers that be...etc.] sending us signs. Little things that, if you're not paying attention, you'd miss. But when you're truly in-tune with the Universe you begin to notice things ... and these messages either tell you're on the right track or ... are a warning of danger ahead.

We've all had those things that when we look back, we kind of go "Ahhhhh...now I understand." or "If I had only listened!" For me ... the Universe usually gives me a sign that I need to get my life in order right about the time I rear-end someone ... or when I go sliding off an icy road in the mountains. When I look back on those times, I think "I think someone was trying to get my attention. Hmmm."

So, when I signed up for the e-mails to be delivered to my inbox via "The Universe" (actually, it's just a really cool site that sends you inspirational messages each day) I didn't think much of it. I figured it was just another one of those e-mail services that sends you a quote of the day or something random...something that doesn't really relate to your life. Occasionally I find the e-mails helpful, but I don't buy into the whole thing like you do with horoscopes ... you read something and even though it kinda sorta relates, you can twist it in a way so it TOTALLY relates just because you want to believe in it.

But in the last month ... the messages started getting pretty ... I dunno ... DIRECT. I'd open up my e-mail and be all "Hey Universe, EASE UP. I'm working on it!"

For instance, there was this one a few weeks ago:

Aug. 17:

"Jill, you're the only person who knows what's right for you.

The only one.

And if you already know what this is, commit to it. If you don't, commit to nothing.

Only you know,
    The Universe"

Then this one:
Aug 20:
"If you want better from others, Jill, be better yourself.
Want better,
    The Universe"

And they continue.Sept. 7:
"I know you already know this, but Jill, the only way one can find their way is to first be lost. To make it big, start out small. To fall in love, first feel none. Yet, when such wishes are granted and the dreamers suddenly find themselves lost, small, and alone, you should hear the "expletives"!

So, look at it like this: Any such feelings are simply a sign that you've made a really, really big and daring "wish," and that its manifestation has already begun.
Foxy, clever, wry -
    The Universe"

This one really spoke to me.
Sept 8:
"Sometimes, Jill, one of the most helpful things you can do for another is to let them learn stuff for themselves, at their own pace.

It's also one of the most helpful things you can do for yourself.

Empower, celebrate, and free them all -
The Universe"

And then this:
Sept. 16:
"You know those people, Jill, you sometimes feel you're waiting for? I mean new friends and connections, agents and directors, customers and clients, publishers and producers, dear hearts and darlings. Well, they're actually just waiting for you... to make some serious room for them in your life.

Do stuff, Jill, little stuff, lots of stuff, prepare the way... and don't even think of stopping until you're dining with them at The Ritz.

The Universe"

Sept. 21:
"Oh, you're going to laugh alright, Jill, but not just at the funny clothes you wore, or how naïve you thought the animals were, or by the unrecognized angels in your midst. But at how close you were when you thought yourself far, how much more strength you had when you thought yourself weak, and how easy life was when you thought it hard.

Stitches...
The Universe"

And the one from today:
"The tendency to settle upon a cursed how, Jill, as a means to achieve a particular goal, is simply a sign that you've momentarily forgotten how unlimited, creative, and powerful I am, and that I tirelessly conspire on your behalf when you leave me every option.

Let me loose,
The Universe"

With all of that kind of messaging, how could I not stand up for myself? How could I NOT say "This is what I want and I'm going to make it happen?"

I've been intentionally vague these last couple of days because I don't really care to go into the details of the personal lives of others. But as a part of the "detox" I had to push people out of my life that were uh, douches, and others that didn't necessarily fall into that category, but were keeping me from moving ON and really finding what I want. I needed, as the Universe put it, to prepare the way.

Shortly after the detox started, I got a text from a friend saying "Call me right away, I have a funny story to tell you!" The "funny story" was that she had just gotten off the phone with her "friend" *cough cough* who said he'd run into another friend of his while grabbing coffee that morning. After a 20 minute conversation or with the guy, he called my bestie to say "This might be kind of inappropriate but ... I think he might be a good match for Jill."

I just smiled.

Because it was like the Universe was saying "You did your part, Jill. Now I'll do mine." I'd cleared the way, refused to settle and let the Universe loose with limitless options ... and it was responding in kind.

Kind of crazy how that works,

-SMITC

Capstone To Do List

2010-09-23T13:55:00.006-07:00

So, whenever I'm feeling super overwhelmed and feeling like there's no end in sight, I make a to do list.

I just got out of my meeting with the charter school people and am freaking out just a bit. I'm not quite sure that what I need to get done for this project is humanely possibly this semester. First, I need to write a literature review. It's due October 4th.(Lit review is a review and critique of all of the relevant literature related to your topic.) With charter schools being so chic these days, you can imagine I've been doing quite a lot of reading. Then I need to synthesize it into a run-down of the history of charter schools, the role advocacy has played on charter school policy and the current state of affairs of charter school policy and statute in the state of Colorado.

8 pages. Due Oct. 4th. About 20 scholarly articles and 2 books to read before starting on writing the lit review (which I had hoped to do this weekend.)

Well then.

After the lit review is done, I need to analyze the results of a survey conducted by the charter school folks.

Then I need to figure out which congressional and senate districts have the most charter schools, cross reference it with the representatives for those districts, how they answered the survey and cross reference THAT with whether another well-known child advocacy group endorsed that specific candidate or not. In addition to that, I need to look up their past voting records to find out where how they have historically voted on charter and education-related bills.

All of THAT will give me a good picture of: How does each legislator stand on the topic of charter schools?

After that I need to look up which legislators are on which committees, specifically the education committee in the CO Senate and House and who is likely to be the majority and minority leaders in both chambers after the November elections. Where do these key people stand?

Then, based upon those results, the readings regarding successful advocacy programs and my interviews with staff at the charter school league, I will be able to design a strategy for where the league should target their resources in the next legislative session. Who needs education about charter schools? Who will be a leader in introducing charter school policy and helping them to pass out of committee? What resources does the league employ: Direct advocacy efforts or grassroots? And when and at what level of effort?

And while all of THAT is going on?

I've got to analyze the basis for charter school funding in Colorado and design policy alternatives for my paper due in another class.

So the goal for tonight, after soccer practice, after dinner, after getting Cael a bath is ... to finish one of the books I need to read. Then a bit of data analysis, and for dessert: background research on voting records.

There's my list. And now that I've written it all out, it seems manageable...if I take out eating, sleeping and working.

At least the week is almost over ...

XOXO

-SMITC

The End of Summer

2010-09-22T22:27:00.000-07:00

Today may have been the last day of summer (or the first day of fall?) but because it is still 10 days before I turn 30, it is NOT the end of LSOTS.

Today, however, was significant in a few other ways ... it was the first day I sorta freaked out about turning 30 (and responded by spending about $75 in beauty products) and realized that I'm not getting any younger.

And it was the day I continued the "Detox" and taking a stand ... for myself.

It was tough, but it was the right thing to do if I really and truly want to move on to meet someone special.

The thing about this detox is...at one point or another all of the people involved have been very important people in my life ... people that I've leaned on and trusted.

But the other thing is ... by continuing to believe in them and having expectations that one day, they would be my everything, I forgot to remember exactly what it is that I want out of life.

And that, my friends, is to be loved. Madly. Deeply. Truly and Fully. Something I think we all should have the right to.

I don't know that I believe that that kind of love is out there for me ... but by closing the door on this last chapter of my life, I'm leaving the window open in the case that it is.

XOXO

-SMITC

An Education

2010-09-22T08:11:00.004-07:00

Students, teachers and parents at DSST watched the Oprah Winfrey Show September 20, 2010, and learned their school was awarded $1 million.
(Photo courtesy of John Leyba, The Denver Post)

Congratulations to Denver School of Science and Technology on their $1 million dollar grant from the Oprah Winfrey Angel Network!

DSST is a Denver Public Schools charter school that was noticed by Oprah herself because of how well the students who attend are performing ... especially in a year when state test results were a little uh, less than spectacular. DSST middle school rose above.

And though a million dollars doesn't go as far as it used to ... a million dollars is a million dollars. The more and more I learn about how charter schools operate, the funding barriers they face and their needs, the more I'm very excited to hear about DSST being recognized by a national icon.

Because here's the thing - at the end of the day - no matter what your belief about charter schools, funding, school assessment results ... there are students choosing to attend charter schools like DSST. They choose to charter schools - an option in the public school system - attend for whatever reasons they may have and even though you know how I feel about saying this word:

Every child deserves a decent education.

Kudos to DSST for giving them one.

XOXO

-SMITC

Detox

2010-09-21T08:12:00.002-07:00

Yesterday was the 10 day mark.

In 10 days, I'll be 30.

September 20 is also the day that my ex-boyfriend, after knowing me for almost NINE years, still thinks is my birthday.

He e-mailed me today to ask, "Wasn't it your birthday yesterday?"

I love how he a) still, after so many years, despite my birth date being IN MY EMAIL ADDRESS, can not remember this one little thing about me and b) when he remembered, he e-mailed me to ask. Not to WISH me a Happy Birthday, but to ask. TO ASK!!!

Here's the thing kids ... in this day and age, there's things like, I dunno, Facebook and e-mail addresses that you can check to verify these things when you have questions about them.

You do not ... and I repeat DO NOT, e-mail the person whose birthday is in question to ask them "you had a birthday, right?" Because if you're fairly sure that you know their birthday (even if you're guessing it 10 days ahead of when it really is) go for the gold. Go ahead and just WISH them a Happy Birthday.

As if I wasn't already feeling pretty terrible yesterday (which is why you didn't get a blog ... I sort of had this mini freak-out that I'm turning 30 and I'm single and all the men in my life are d-bags who seem to be in love with ANYONE BUT ME) ... and thought it couldn't be made any worse ...

I was reminded that yes, indeed it can. You can realize that you are even LESS important than you thought you were to someone you spent a significant portion of the last decade with.

And that, my friends, is why, I have decided to go on, what my friend describe as "Douche Detox." This detox program involves lots of ranty e-mails to friends about how all men suck. It involves stern glances at anyone from the opposite sex if they get within 5 feet of me, and involves ignoring all e-mails, texts, phone calls, facebook status updates, comments, ETC., if they annoy the F*$# out of me.

Go away, douches. There's no room for you in my thirties. Which starts in nine days. JUST IN CASE YOU WERE CONFUSED.

XOXO

-SMITC

The Vagueness

2010-09-19T22:21:00.001-07:00

I had every intention of updating the blog every day this weekend.

I had one prepared about how I was thinking about getting a tattoo. It's still in draft form, actually, but got put on back burner...(I'll come back to it. First, close your mouths ... it's not THAT big of a deal. Seriously.)

So yes, I was busy and blogs didn't get written because, oh, you know...I had a little thing called "the flu."

Yeah ... Hilarious that I didn't take into account that I was likely to get sick after Cael was.

It arrived Friday night, shortly before my out-of-town houseguests were to arrive, and lasted until about 1 a.m. or so ... er, at least,...that's when I sort of fainted in my hallway and woke up later and dragged myself to bed.

Well, it was either the flu or too many margaritas earlier in the night, but I like to consider myself a "professional," soooo... pretty sure it was the flu. (That "preeetty sure", BTW, was in honor of ConCon...love you, mom.)

I felt better Saturday, but not 100%.

And that dipped to about ... 60% or so by the time Saturday night ended.

I went on a hike with my friend Alejandra, who is in from out of town today, and climbed back up to about 70% or so. It's hard to feel down about anything when you're standing on top of a mountain looking at a glorious view in front of and behind you. We went up near Vail to check out the Aspens and managed to take in a spectacular waterfall as well.

Then, friends Chrissy and Jess came by for dinner and drinks and I'm feeling right around 75% or so.

I'm calling it at seventy-five percent because there's these little things just lingering that I'm just not sure how to handle. Nothing to do with being sick in the normal sense, thank goodness ... it would almost be easier if it were.

Because at least that eventually goes away. But the thing I've got ... it just sort of sticks around like that cough in your chest you can't manage to shake all winter long. The only thing WORSE than being reminded that you can't shake it is ... being reminded that it doesn't care.

And that's how I spent my weekend. Vague enough for you?

XOXO

-SMITC

Happy Birthday Ham

2010-09-16T20:17:00.000-07:00

So, here's the thing - in my family, birthdays are a BIG deal. Your birthday is like the equivalent of it being your own personal Christmas. You get to pick the dinner, you get to pick the venue and you get all sorts of fun little gifts that you didn't even know you wanted. While growing up, birthdays were always celebrated with a party, a gaggle of girls, extended family and birthday cake.

But, as I've come to find out...when you turn 30, things change. This is an honest-to-God text exchange between my mom and I tonight:

Mom: I'm putting together a care package to send you for your birthday? What are some things you'd like that you don't ever spend money on for yourself?

Me: Awww, mom, you don't have to do that - you already got me most of it already - silly mommy! (They gave me birthday gifts when I was home last weekend.)

Me: (in a separate text) You know I buy cheapo on everything so - nice trash bags would be good.

Mom: Good idea! Because they make commercials about YOURS (my mom had complained about how my trash bags were so terrible when visiting a few weeks ago.

Me: LOL I was thinking of you as my bag broke today ... I totally stole some from you guys when I was home!

Mom: What kind of shampoo do you like?

Me: The Aussie stuff! (This was like...the only thing I could think of off the top of my head without knowing what price range she was talking about. What was I supposed to say? Oh, I'd really like a $50 bottle of Fekai product, please?)

Mom: What?

Me: You know ... purple bottle...kangaroo?

Mom: (who never buys shampoo/conditioner from the grocery store...) Can you buy it at the salon?

Me: No! I'm cheap! You buy it at the grocery store. If you MUST know, I really like John Freida or Nexxus products.

Mom: Ok.

Me: What are you guys doing for dad's birthday? (he turns...57 on Sept. 19th)

Mom: I dunno. I'm making him ham for lunch.

Me: Really? That's it? "Happy Birthday, Here's your ham?"

Mom: I also got him a new vacuum sealant.

Mom: You guys are turning into Betty and Wayne (my grandparents.)

Mom ... a few minutes later: He loves ham.

And that's how we adults now celebrate birthdays in the Conner family. Shampoo, trash bags and ... ham.

Tom Hanks meets Linda Blair

2010-09-16T13:27:00.013-07:00

You know that scene in "You've Got Mail" when Tom Hanks arrives at Meg Ryan's apartment, flowers in hand and she's all sick and in aflutter and doesn't quite know what to do with herself? Meanwhile, he moves around her house, gets her some tea, tucks her into bed and just ... takes care of her like they've been best friends forever?

And ...

You know that scene in the "Exorcist" when a possessed Linda Blair projectile vomits all over every one in the room?

Yeah. That's kind of what my night was like last night.

I arrived at kickball around 6:35. Late, as usual, because I'd been on the phone with a client well past my normal work-hours. To fit dinner and get to the kickball fields in time, I'd grabbed Cael Kids Meal on our way. This was in between expressing my frustration with him about how he'd gotten in trouble AGAIN at school for disrupting the class by talking (this time, even going past a warning) and how I was just at my wit's end at trying to figure out why he thought it totally fine to be the class clown.

Now, if I sound like the worst mom ever, let me remind you that yes, I AM, I'm AWARE, but also - we've done this for three years straight. THREE YEARS IN A ROW the school year starts out with Cael getting in trouble over and over again for talking in class...and what I know he doesn't understand is that this sets the tone with his teacher for the rest of the year. How he's treated, how he's handled, how the other kids treat him. So can I just say, I'm TIRED? I'm tired of this song and dance. And so yeah. I was frustrated.

So he was instructed to sit at the kickball game and read his required reading. He was not to talk to anyone and when we got home he would NOT be watching any cartoons NOR would he be watching cartoons in the morning. It was time to nip this little problem of his in the bud.

To his credit, he did as he was instructed during kickball, but right as we were about to leave, he started complaining of a stomach-ache.

I was all "Really?" eyebrows raised ... I mean ... my kiddo has been known to fake sickness before because he was afraid of getting in trouble. And hell if I'm gonna fall for that trick again.

But his complaints got worse the closer that we got to home. And based upon the expression his face, they seemed legit. Did he need to go to the bathroom? I asked. No. Did he need to throw up? He frantically nodded his head.

I started driving faster, knowing the inevitable was coming. Praying that we could just get home in time. And then:

"Mom, pull over!" he screamed from the back seat.

I look behind me to see a Cael, one his hand clapped over his mouth trying to control the vomit that was spewing everywhere.

Somehow, I managed to weave in between traffic on I-25, and pull over to the side of the road. I ran around the side of the car and tried to haul him out of the car, not even stopping to unbuckle his seat belt.

For future reference to any of you who might find yourself in this type of situation one day - if you're going to pull a puking kid out of a car, you should stop to unbuckle their seat belt.

Because instead of puking in the car, he finished his "business" on the tops of my shoes. Burgers AND Fries.

(I couldn't help giving you a nice mental picture there. You're welcome.)

Though it only lasted a few seconds before I was snapped back into action by the fact that I had a sick kid on the side of the road ... I remember just looking up into to the sky and thinking "OK, God, WHAT DO I DO NOW?"

Because really ... what DO you do when your kid unexpectedly vomits on the side of the interstate. I really just didn't even have an answer for that scenario. I've got all sorts of answers for what you do when your kid pokes a pencil into his eye, or cuts his head open on the coffee table ... but after a terrible day in class and in work, after running late to the kickball game, after feeling very used by a client who didn't care about my time and finding out that my kid got in trouble AGAIN, I was just OUT OF ANSWERS.

And I was all "Ok God, you want to co-parent and help me out today? Because there's ONLY SO MUCH I CAN TAKE."

Eventually, I decided instead of trying to do damage control on the side of the interstate, it would be best to just get home as quickly as possible. I texted a few people to explain the situation in a sorta #FML statement. Of course, he would puke ALL over the new car. Of COURSE that would happen. Silly girl for thinking that I could actually buy a nice car and keep it nice! Silly girl for thinking that I could manage work, school, kickball, parenting all in one day? Idiot!

When we arrived, I scooted Cael into the bath and then off to bed, ignoring the mess that was in the backseat. I would've ignored it all night, if I could, if it wouldn't have smelled worse in the morning. But eventually, I made my way back outside, rags and cleaning products in hand.

And that's when apparently God decided to check his voice mail messages for the day. Turns out, he was listening after all.

One of the people who had been included in the text message had been my neighbor. Who, upon receiving the text, called back right away asking what I needed. I couldn't even think, at that point, and so he and his roomie came right over with a glass of wine in hand. They inspected the damage, assured me the car looked and smelled fine and gave me comforting hugs.

And I just couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

Because here's the deal. When you're a single mom ... you're the one who cleans up the puke in the back seat. You're the one who cleans up the disgusting laundry covered in vomit. You're the one whose shoes get thrown up on. You're the one who stays up with the sick kid all night. And you're the one who feels awful for yelling at their kid about getting in trouble in school that day WHEN HE HAS THE FLU.

Yep. Me. Worst. Mom. Ever.

At least ... that's how I felt. I felt like I'm just failing at this parenting job some days, ya know? Like, if I were my own boss, I would've fired me by now.

So, I stood there in the parking lot with puke all over my shoes while I literally put my head on the neighbor's shoulder and cried.

Meanwhile, the neighbor's roomie had also brought over a plate of food when they found out I hadn't yet eaten. The roomie said goodnight and the neighbor followed me inside. To my house. On a Wednesday. In the middle of the week.

Let me explain: On any given day during the week, our house is a giant mess. Things get tossed some place because you know you're gonna need to pick it up again the next morning, the kitchen table becomes a landing page for papers, pens, books, mail of all kinds and the sink? Don't even get me started on the sink. My good friends know this, and forgive me for it, but there is no way in HELL that if I were to be romantically interested in a person whatsoever that I would let them see how I REALLY live. You know what I mean ... just all the things you do and filth you live in that you're glad no one ever sees.

And through my tears, as we're walking up the stairs to go inside, this realization struck me. It's a good thing the neighbor and I are just friends. But still.

I get inside and quickly dart around, trying to clean off the table, hide the pukey car seat that was still sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor (don't ask why...I think because I figured, easier to clean up puke off linoleum than carpet, ya?) throwing things into the laundry, cleaning crumbs off the counter ...

Meanwhile, my neighbor took the pukey rags from my hands.

He warmed up the plate of food while I checked on Cael.

He grabbed silverware out of my drawer.

And instructed that I just stop and eat. (And by the way, the food he brought over, which was made by the roomie's wife...so YUM.)

A short while later as Cael started another round of puking, and the neighbor excused himself. I realized though, as soon as he was gone that I was stuck. I needed supplies because I hadn't been prepared for this. Cael was dry heaving at this point and would soon be dehydrated. I checked our fridge - no 7-up or carbonated drinks in sight that might soothe his stomach.

This again is where being the single mom sucks. Your kid is sick, you're out of supplies. What do you do? Do you put him back into the car (that didn't have a car seat at the moment, because it was covered in vomit) and run down to the corner store? Do you leave, hoping he'll be OK, while you make a run for it? What if your kid gets sick again while you're gone? What do you DO?

Kids, I did what I rarely ever do. But given the events of the day, it was time to admit that I just needed some more help.

I picked up the phone and called the neighbor again, asking to see if they had any carbonated provisions. They didn't, but the neighbor quickly volunteered to go pick some up.

I didn't even put up a fight.

By the time he arrived, Cael's stomach had calmed down and he'd gotten back into bed. I looked at the bag in the neighbor's hands and realized that he, of course, had gone above and beyond the call of duty for the second time that night and was holding NOT just 7-up, but also box of Saltene crackers, Pepto Bismal, a box of Goobers (his loving nickname for me, by the way) and, as he pulled his hand from behind his back ...

... flowers.

Boys and girls, he had brought me flowers. Spider Daisies to be exact.

As if I hadn't asked enough of him already. As if he hadn't JUST picked up the pukey rags from my hands, gotten me dinner [for the second time this week!] held me whie I cried and seen the disaster that is my house on a Wednesday night.

Then he goes and buys me flowers.

You see, the neighbor and I often joke about how we randomly seemed to have crossed each others' paths because sometimes we're not sure why. We've agreed to remain friends and I've cheered him on as he's taken steps back into the dating world and he's been there for me as I've finally moved on past an old relationship that I needed to let go of. Certainly, God made the right choice when he was picking out people to come into my life. A good friend knows when you need more than what you're asking for, and doesn't hesitate to do it for you.

But even though I clearly know where I stand with the neighbor and he knows where he stands with me as a friend - a good friend only - like Tom Hanks is to Meg Ryan as he cleans up the chaos that is her life and tucks her into bed ...

... A tiny part of me couldn't help but fall for him last night.

He's single, ladies. Just sayin'.

XOXO

-SMITC

P.S. Cael has since stopped "getting sick" but had a fever as of this morning. I called him in sick to school and found out that the stomach flu is indeed going around these parts. He's doing much better now ... thanks to a lot of 7-up and Saltenes.

Google vs. SMITC

2010-09-14T21:03:00.020-07:00

You know that thing where Google watches like EVERYTHING you do?

And then, when you least expect it, it tailors ads that pop up in your g-mail, based upon the conversations you've had, the sites you've visited, the thoughts in your HEAD that you've never once uttered but somehow they know?

I had to laugh when I saw the ad that was brought up in my g-mail today, as a result of the lifestyle I've been leading lately. It read:

"Kissing 101: How to Kiss a Man. Tips for Women."

Please. If there's one degree I already have in the bag, it's THAT one.

I heart kissing. It's one of my absolute favorite things to do in life. I, *cough, cough* ahem, um, *cough cough* have been told I'm you know...okay at it. Sometimes more than okay ;) [I credit having a very good kisser as my first 'real' boyfriend. You know who you are. And ... thank you.]

Because there's kissing, and then there's KISSING, ... the kind of kissing that makes you weak in the knees.

The kind of kissing you remember long after it's over.

The kind of kissing you can't learn in Kissing 101.

What I'm saying is ...you obviously don't know everything that goes on around here Google, so ya might wanna work on reading between the lines a little bit better if you wanna keep up with SMITC!

Post #300 baby!

XOXO

The Babysitter

2010-09-14T20:16:00.001-07:00

So yesterday I tried out a new thing.

Because my son had pulled an old trick.

I asked him whether he'd gotten a warning from the teacher at school that day.

"Nope!"

"Really? So, if I called him and asked him, he'd tell me the same thing?"

He looked at me with a frozen stare.

"Uh. Yeah. I got a warning."

And after the day I'd just had. After all the crap and things going on...I just sorta broke.

I HATE lying.

HATE IT.

Not only do I feel it's disrespectful to me as a mom but ... little boys who get used to learning how to lie also turn into big boys who lie to your face and don't think a thing about it.

And then you find out ... and usually it wasn't so much the LIE that hurt so much ... but the fact that someone thought it was OKAY to lie to you ... and you find this out and it just ... breaks your heart.

So, apologies now Cael. But your mom's reasoning for hating lying are because some dude sorta screwed me up along the way. Deal with it.

"That's it. You're Grounded." I said. I really wasn't even sure what I was saying at the time. I mean, grounded from what? It's not as if he was like, gonna get in his car and drive to the MALL after school. So I established the rules a bit. "No TV tonight and you'll work on either homework or read after dinner. No toys!"

Boo yah. That no TV thing is KILLER when you're 7.

So we got home and HATP was all "come on over - you need to meet [his roomie/boss's wife, who is in town visiting...that sounds weird when you type it out, but let's skip that for now]. "Fine, I said. But Cael can't come. He's GROUNDED."

(Before you judge: The neighbor and I live about 300 feet apart. Going to his place is the equivalent of your kid hanging out in the backyard while you watch from the kitchen window.)

I explained to Cael I'd be right back and headed downstairs to say Hi and would be back in five.

But, I didn't even get that far. I could not have been gone for more than three minutes when I see this Cael standing outside the neighbor's place. In tears. The words just sorta spilled over as I came up to him and gathered him up in my arms.

"I DO NOT LIKE being by myself!" he blurted out, as he buried his head in my shoulder.

This was in front of the three people I'd just told about WHY he was grounded ... so it was all we could do to not laugh. It was just .... the cutest little thing I think I've ever seen. And then it got even better. We all held back our smiles as I tried to play stern, responsible mom. I told my friends Cael and I needed to take a walk and "talk this out." So we did.

"So you don't like being grounded?"

"No. Well, sorta. It's OK I guess."

"So you DO like being grounded?"

"Well I know that with the TV off I can concentrate on my work and get good grades and stuff. But I missed you."

And he looked up at me with this very honest face. His big blue eyes still brimming with tears and it was like a little puppy dog, looking for assurance from his owner. He was trying SO HARD to say the right thing, to make me happy and to just be responsible for his actions earlier that day.

The thing is - I guarantee had that TV been on, he would've had no problem being on his own for five minutes. He's done it before while I've run out to the car, or taken the dog out. But all of a sudden he was without his safety blanket and didn't know what to do with himself. Turns out, he needed the "grounding" more than I'd realized ... maybe I've had the TV on a little too much while I've been busily running about the house, getting dinner ready or working on an assignment. Maybe his "grounding" was a clue to both of us that um ... we need to be spending our time on more quality things ... so one doesn't FREAK OUT when it's not on.

In the end, we compromised. He came over to the neighbors with me, worked on his spelling words and reading and we all ended up having dinner over there. He was the perfect angel, followed my directions to not talk unless he was spoken to and to keep to himself (he was "grounded" after all.) I got in some "me" time that I needed and he learned his lesson.

Tonight, we spent an excellent evening together, talking and laughing over dinner, running a few errands and debating whether or not I'm a cool mom and if I'm funny (he contends that I'm not even HALF as funny as he is) and are just now headed to go read some more of the Harry Potter series. The TV was never turned on once.

This parenting thing ... I don't really know. I don't have all the answers and I'm not always great when thinking on my feet. I'm tired, as I imagine I will be a lot this semester. So forgive me while I make mistakes. It's hard when you're caught up in a million things to calculate how many hours the TV has been on in a given week. So sometimes, I need to get a little "grounded" myself to realize that with everything going on in our lives, I can't forget the most important thing. I've been doing this parenting thing for 7 years and still haven't found a way to do it right, ALL the time. It's times like these that I'm just thankful for my son, who recognizes that I'm not perfect, doesn't think I'm very funny or cool ... and loves me anyway.

XOXO

SMITC

Yesterday Sucked but Today Will be Better

2010-09-14T12:06:00.001-07:00

So, I really didn't have a great way of blogging about yesterday.

It sucked. I missed an important meeting for my Capstone. Lost a wad of cash. My son got in trouble at school and then LIED about it. And I've been a bucket of emotions ever since visiting home. For a number of reasons.

And then there's the neighbor...he seems to just...complicate things a bit.

But last night, he was a knight in shining armor. Fed me. Provided strong drinks. Allowed me to cry, blow snot all over everywhere and gave me a chance to just vent.

And then I went back home. Fell right into bed and got a lot of sleep. Insomnia nowhere in sight.

So yesterday sucked. But today will be better. So help me God.

-XOXO

SMITC

Sunset to Sunset

2010-09-11T23:59:00.001-07:00

0So much can happen in 48 hours.

We arrived in Nebraska around 3 a.m. Saturday morning. As we left Friday, the sun was setting brilliantly over the mountains, waving goodbye.

And when we returned, it was warmly welcoming us back with even more exuberance.

And in between all that was tailgating, a Husker game, family time at Casa de Conner, birthday gifts, a bachelorette party, dancing and gyros.

Thank you, Nebraska, for reminding me of all the things I love most in this world. I needed that.

XOXO

-SMITC

Class Clown

2010-09-10T10:54:00.006-07:00

It appears that my son is in need of attention.

So says his teacher, who pulled me aside this morning to tell me that yesterday, Cael had to be separated from the class because he was creating too much of a disruption by trying to entertain the other kids.

SEPARATED.

Oh, and did I mention my kid failed to tell me about this? We talk about ALL sorts of other things, but you know, he forgets to say "Oh by the way, they had to pull me out of the classroom, JUST SO YOU KNOW."

I can't tell you which I was more mortified by: That my kiddo has been goofing off in school (not a HUGE surprise) or that he hadn't told me about the incident yesterday (which, in my book, goes into the same category as lying.) Does he think I'm not going to find out? Oh kid....mom ALWAYS finds out, don't you know?

Bahahahahahaha!

Anyway.

His teacher is really cool about it. He's well aware of Cael's tendency to be uh...a goof off. In years past teachers have dealt with this by allowing Cael to tell his "stories" at lunch-time or help explain a math problem to the class in "kid speak" because Cael had already figured out the answer. Or they instructed him to turn his schoolwork over, once he was finished, and draw on the back until everyone else was done.

Basically, just whatever it takes to keep him from bothering others. Because for some reason or another, my kid thinks it's HILARIOUS to make funny faces, goof off and tell jokes in the classroom. I've tried every approach at quelling this issue: "Cael, you understand it's disrespectful to your teacher when you do this?" or "Cael, you understand it's disrespectful to your friends when you bother them?" or "Cael, you understand that eventually, kids don't want to be friends with the kid that is getting them into trouble?" or even worse: "Cael, you understand that I'm GOING TO TELL YOUR GRANDFATHER ABOUT THIS?"

That one usually gets him every time.

This year, his teacher has decided to take a different route. Instead of squashing Cael's humor and refusing to allow it, he's giving in. I was quite impressed with this tactic, actually, because in exchange for Cael's good behavior in the classroom during the day, he'll get a whole FIVE MINUTES to entertain the class in any way he wants to. The teacher suggested looking up some jokes he could tell the class and having one ready to tell each day during his designated time for being the class clown.

Essentially, my kid's gotta work on his stand-up comedy routine.

I called my dad, Mr. School Administrator, and explained to him the incident this morning. Aside from my kiddo being a disturbance in class, I'm worried about WHY he has these tendencies. Does he not feel like he's getting enough attention at home? Is he feeling insecure? Certainly this week has been a bit crazy...with family in town and me being sick he didn't get the one-on-one he's probably used to. But is there something deeper going on with him I should worry about?

My dad laughed, said he loved the teacher's idea and in fact, that's how Jim Carrey got his start doing stand-up. Essentially, the teacher gave him 15 minutes at the end of every day to entertain the class ... just like Cael.

"So you never know, you may have a comedian on your hands. This a GOOD for him. Sounds like a great idea."

Lovely.

Still - there's something to this idea. Cael and I have bounced around the idea of him doing some acting before. We've sorta tried out lines on each other and I've given him the basic tips (You gotta say it with a straight face - you can't laugh!) and earlier this summer he said he would be interested in maybe doing an acting class or two. Perhaps if enrolled in an acting class he'll learn the appropriate time for entertaining and know that it's NOT during the hours of 8 to 30, Monday through Friday.

And PERHAPS he'll become a famous comedian and pay his mom back for the all the hassles he's put her through. ALL BEFORE SHE TURNED 30. Yeah?

XOXO

-SMITC

Blackshirts

2010-09-09T22:36:00.004-07:00

Still working on getting back to "regularly scheduled programming" since my family's visit last weekend.

I promise to give the full run-down of the events of their trip ... but I've had a hard time resurfacing (which is why I fell behind on blogging) because of a dang head cold that settled in after they left.

It was all "oh, hey, I hear you have a vacancy at your place, mind if I stop by?"

I slept for 10 hours yesterday ... and I'm headed to bed early tonight because I have a 7 hour drive tomorrow night as I head back home (I just couldn't get enough of them!)

I refuse to give in to this cold. REFUSE. I have a Husker Game Day and bachelorette party weekend ahead of me...basically, I'm fulfilling my commitment to live out these last weekends as a twenty-year-old. Twenty-something-year-old Jill would've been up early on a Saturday, working before the game as waitress on rollerskates, running over to the stadium just in time for kick-off and then partying at the bars on O-street until closing time.

Because if the Husker defense can come back swinging this weekend after letting a few points slide in last week's game...

SO CAN I.

XOXO

-SMITC

Go 'Skers!

Schramm 7 dorm neighbor Abby and I before a game in 1999!

You "deserve" it

2010-09-09T09:19:00.009-07:00

Let me just say something about how I feel about the word "deserve."

By definition, this word implies that one should be awarded something because of because of actions,qualities, or situation or to be worthy of, qualified for, or have a claim to reward, punishment, recompense, etc.

My ex used to use this word "deserve" when he would explain why he "had the right" to live the way he wanted to ... his father had left his family behind at a young age, his mother had struggled and he'd had to work hard for anything he wanted.

So, he "deserved" to be selfish. He "deserved" to be a douchebag.

Ok, so he never labeled himself as the latter, but he would often say he "deserved" to be a little selfish and therefore, not really fully commit to our relationship. (Yes, he would ACTUALLY say this.)

But when I heard this, I was kinda like "but what about what I DESERVE?" I've been a single mom for seven years. I've struggled on welfare, I've struggled to pay my bills and yet, I pulled myself out of the depths of despair and debt, bought a home for my son and I, am putting myself through school and have worked hard to make a decent life for us. Don't I DESERVE to be happy?

Whenever I bring up things being fair, or people deserving things though, my father usually settles the argument for me.

"Nobody DESERVES anything, Jill. Life isn't fair like that." (This is a well-known speech I've stolen bits and pieces from for this blog before.)

And he's right. Sometimes the good guy doesn't win. Sometimes you can work your whole life for something and not get it. Sometimes you can be a GREAT person and you just don't get what you DESERVE. And on the flip side JUST BECAUSE YOU WERE WRONGED IN SOME WAY, DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU NOW GET TO "DESERVE" ACTING LIKE AN ASSHOLE.

You know why? Because what if we all walked around just doing things because we "deserve" to. We all just walked around with giant chips on our shoulders saying "hey, life sucks for me right now, so I'm gonna sucker punch you in the face. You know why? I deserve to." Or " I worked really, really hard at X, Y and Z in my life, so I DESERVE to be happier than this guy over here who also worked really, really hard at A, B and C too."

And sometimes, even when people get what they "deserve," it could all be gone in an instant. So how do you reconcile what people "deserve" and don't "deserve?" Because if "deserve" really worked that way, then how do you account for people NOT getting what they deserve? Are they not worthy ENOUGH? And how do you get more "deserving?"

See what I mean? I just don't like what it implies. That you can just take yours and not worry about anyone else. Sure, this summer I had a lot of fun being truly "single" and on my own without Cael around, but did I "deserve" it? No. Did I work to arrange it so that I could have fun? Yes. Had plans fallen through and would I be all pouty and mopey, crying out "but I DESERVE this!?"

No. Because no one deserves anything. That's just not how it works, in my humble opinion. Because if it did, me and my friends would've won the lottery by now. And it took me a long time in my 20s to come to this realization ... I've really struggled my entire life with things being "fair." I want them so desperately to be "fair." But now, as I turn the corner to 30, I realize that life isn't fair and we don't always get what we think we "deserve."

So on Monday, when the car salesman turned to me, after checking out my car and valuing it for a trade and said, "You DESERVE this new car," I said "No, I don't believe in that, actually. Would I like a new car? Yes. Do I deserve it? No."

He just sorta sat there, tongue-tied, looking at me.

And that, ladies and gentlement, is how I bought my very first brand new vehicle. I went to the dealership with my mom this last Monday to test drive cars I've been researching for months. The 2010 Kia Forte has gotten great reviews and was rated as the Top Pick for Safety among vehicles in its class [read: the class that I can afford] by the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety.

Before you say anything about "Why Kia?" let me remind you that I've owned three Kias before...and two of them had the 100,000 miles/10 year warranty on them. And that warranty saved my butt, and thousands of dollars, twice. Once, when stuck on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere the day before Thanksgiving during our first year in Denver, Kia came to tow my car and said they would tow to the nearest Kia dealership. Unfortunately, the nearest dealership was still 200 miles from where I needed to be going for Thanksgiving. Without any begging or pleading at all, Kia founds someone who would tow my car all 200 miles and take me and my son the rest of the way to our destination ... without any extra charge, cost or hassle. And I made it home for Thanksgiving.

Say what you want, but that meant a lot to me and I've never forgotten it.

That doesn't mean I completely folded when it came to making a deal. I'll spare you the "back and forth" details, but say that I knew what I could afford, knew what my bottom line was and got what I wanted. (It didn't hurt that I was going on about 2 hours of sleep, was sort of incredibly annoyed and tired of being at the dealership all day and cranky Jill came out. I'm sort of ridiculously embarrassing when I bring out the cranky Jill...but I didn't care. I get what I want.)

You may be wondering why I bought a brand new car when um, in a previous blog post I talked about there being some uncertainty in my job situation. Well, without going into too much detail, I can say that the job uncertainties were settled, but the car uncertainties were not. My dad had taken a look at the power steering fluid leak in the car over the weekend and determined it would need to be fixed by a shop. Which would mean putting even MORE money into the car.

It just didn't make sense anymore to throw more money at a car that really wasn't worth it. I knew that this moment would come and have been planning and saving for it for a while, so the situation didn't take my surprise. Had I had my way and gotten what I "deserved" I would've preferred to wait until after this semester. But a decision needed to be made and I had the time on Monday and had reinforcements (my mom was super awesome! I get my ability to stand up for myself from her!)

And the final reason: Even if (Big IF!) I were to not have a job in three weeks and my car would've finally puttered out .... it's whole lot easier to get a car loan NOW than it is when you have to put "unemployed" on your loan application. Yes, being unemployed would be devastating, but if I had to work three jobs, rely on savings, etc., I could do it. That part doesn't worry me. Not having a car to DRIVE to three jobs to make ends meet would be difficult though.

After all is said and done, I now have a reliable vehicle that's top in its class for safety. It has a great warranty and then some and *knock on wood* is going to get me home safely this weekend and for years to come. It has all sorts of features I've never had before and am not used to. Next to my condo, is the nicest thing I've ever owned.

But do I deserve it?

Nah. Have I worked hard, saved pennies where I could and kept a tight reign on our budget so I could afford it?

Yes. But this could all be gone tomorrow and if it is ... is that what I "deserve?"

Something to think about.

-SMITC

I'll take mine with a side of leather please...

2010-09-07T22:48:00.003-07:00

Admittedly I haven't been doing a good job of 30 days of blogging. I apologize and I promise to make it up to you.

This weekend went by much faster than I expected. There was a lot going on. Sunday was spent with the entire family and Monday was spent, oh, I dunno...BUYING A BRAND NEW CAR!

Boo yah.

But before I get to that, I have to report that tonight, on my mom's last night in Denver, we went out to dinner with the neighbors and the topic of the neighbor's bike came up.

And some how, he not only got my mom on the back of his bike...but he got my mom to wear full leather gear...chaps and all.

Isn't she hot?

And then I whined that it wasn't fair that my MOM had gotten a ride on the bike at night (which I'd been promised before...) and I hadn't.

So naturally, I had to get a ride as well. And even though it may look goofy...it turns out...chaps make your ass look kinda ....

... well you decide for yourselves. Consider this part of my apology.

XOXO

-SMITC

Game Day

2010-09-04T17:10:00.004-07:00

I spent this afternoon with my sister, brother-in-law, niece and father at the Heritage Square Adventure Park.

We rode rides, did the alpine slide, took in a magic show and fell right into step with our normal, unpolitically correct banter. For people that think I'm crass or sarcastic ... I am nothing compared to these people.

And hat's why I love them. Tomorrow my mom will join us and we'll head into the mountains for a bit and end up at a friend's BBQ, so the Denver friends can meet the Conner clan.

But tonight, I'm taking my sister and brother-in-law out on the town in Denver. Already drinking for the Husker game, my brother-in-law asked how we would be getting home later tonight. "We can take a cab" I said, "and just leave the car downtown."

Yep. It's going to be one of those nights.

But what makes it better is that it has been decided that instead of taking a car and leaving it downtown later ... we'll just have my dad drive us and drop us off at the bar instead - which he VOLUNTEERED to do.

Have I mentioned how much I love these people?

GO BIG RED,

-SMITC

Focusing on the Positives...

2010-09-03T00:02:00.004-07:00

I am not going to talk about the fact that life seems a little bit out of my control right now.

I am not going to discuss the fact that my car seems to be going to shit.

I am not going to linger on the idea that I have about a million things to do before my entire family arrives tonight.

Instead, I'm going give a big BOO YAH to the fact that I submitted my Capstone Prospectus. My first assignment for one of my last classes. What is a Capstone? Well, it's the alternative to a thesis in my Master's program. It's a client-based project in which the student [me] takes on a problem for a client in the public policy arena and works to resolve the problem throughout their semester, resulting in a paper, an oral presentation, and hopefully a beneficial networking experience.

I can now officially tell you that I'll be working with the Colorado League of Charter Schools and their legislative advocacy efforts (I can't go into too much detail, unfortunately, for proprietary reasons.) I'll be combining my data analysis experience along with research and strategy skills to hopefully produce a body of work the League can use when advocating on behalf of charter schools in Colorado.

The irony of this is ... after years of swearing that I could not go into the field of education like my father (I know that personally I could NOT be a teacher) I seem to have landed myself there during the course of my Master's program in Public Administration. The field of education policy simply struck me - whether it's because I'm a parent to a school-aged child of my own or because it meant my father and I could have in-depth conversations about policy issues and how they play out in real-world school settings, I'm not sure. It just simply ... made sense. And it felt like I could make a difference if I devoted myself to it.

So I may not be able to control whether I'll be paid in the upcoming weeks.

I may not be able to control whether my car decides to give up on me.

But I can decide to just focus my energies elsewhere.

And right now, that's what's keeping me going. Literally. The minute my brains starts running away with all the "What if's?" of what could possibly happen in the next few weeks, I force myself to dive into work of another kind and cross something off my list of "Things to Do" for school. I'm also taking a public policy analysis class this semester and between Capstone research and public policy, I uh, have lots of things to keep my brain occupied with.

Which is a good thing, because I spent a lot of my 20s worrying about things out of my control. I really feel that while I'm not quite there yet, I've learned a lot about how to give up control and have faith that everything will work itself out. (You'd think I would've figured that out when, I dunno, I was unexpectedly pregnant. But sadly no, I've fought my control issues even into mommyhood despite the big slap in the face that parenting can provide you) But at least I've learned how to funnel those worries and stress into something about the things I CAN do something about, like my work with the League. It still gets me from time to time, learning to live on faith that everything will be OK ... but I'm at least getting better at it.

XOXO

-SMITC

Me at 26 at a cousin's wedding about a year after moving to Denver. I remember feeling very scared and alone in Denver at the time, and was thankful to be home at the wedding with all of my family. One of the consolations with all that's going on right now is that my entire family is coming to visit this weekend. Because right now, I could really use a hug from my mommy.

Doc Conner's Advice for Changing a Tire ... And Other Life Lessons

2010-09-02T08:12:00.011-07:00

I've never had very good luck with vehicles.

I wish I could say this is a problem of just my twenties that I hope to leave behind in the next decade, but unfortunately, the problem has plagued me from about the time I got behind the wheel of my first car..

Now, there are controversial reasons for why my vehicles either break down on me or I've uh, managed to wreck a decent handful of them, but let's just say that I just don't have very good "car karma" and leave it at that. Mmmmm k?

I've been stranded on the side of interstates. I once slide off the side of a mountain road. I've blown more tires than I can count, replaced transmissions, steering columns, ENGINES and bumpers. I've got body shops on speed dial and earned the nickname "Crash Conner" for a reason.

But here's the thing I've learned over all these years: It's just a car.

I have many, many guardian angels and God-willing, they've always saved me from these disasters. Every time I walk away from the wreckage, I'm reminded that I'm fine. I survived. And I'm OK.

(For the record, Cael has never been in the car during any accident ... he's a bit of a lucky charm when it comes to my driving and so while he's heard of mom's many trials on the road, he's never been a participant in one.)

So today, when I drove out of the downtown Denver parking garage and noticed my car was making a weird noise, I pulled it over to a side-street parking spot and assessed the facts: It was drivable, but it was making a weird noise when I turned the wheel and sorta smelled like burnt rubber. Power steering going out?

The problem: I was in downtown Denver with not a quick lube in sight ... was it drivable to the nearest service station where I could it checked out? This, you see, was the most important question, because I have learned from my mistakes in the past, ignored a sound or symptom and rather than get a tow, ruined my car further because I drove it when it shouldn't have been driven.

I needed an expert opinion. Enter Dr. B-rad Conner.

As long as I've known him, my father has been fixing our family fleet of vehicles. Nine times out of 10, he can fix something himself and when he can't, he'll research it until he can. The man once replaced an engine in my sister's car by labeling every piece of the old engine he took out and matching it to the labels he attached to parts of the new engine he put in. Like a puzzle. Brilliant.

This is a side of my father not many people know. Most people know him as Dr. Conner, a pragmatic school administrator in a suit who doesn't take a lot of crap from anyone. But to know my father, to really know him, is to know the man who won't admit that he enjoys laying underneath a car in a pair of battery-acid worn jeans on a Saturday afternoon. He loved teaching himself how to do body work, replacing his own windshields and digging around the salvage yard for spare parts on the cheap.

Ladies and gentlemen: My dad.

So I called in the authority, who is quite used to getting calls from me in the middle of the day to ask advice about a car (or to admit that I got in another accident) and weighing in on what my options are. I laid out the evidence: hard steering, weird noise, icky smell.

"Sounds like your power steering fluid is low." he advised. He instructed me to pop the hood, take a look and check on the belt by the engine to make sure it hadn't slipped off entirely. Advised that as long as it was running fine, it probably was just a leak in my power steering reservoir, causing the issues with the steering and gross rubbery smell.

"But can I DRIVE it?" I asked.

A long time ago I signed up "roadside assistance" through my cell phone company. Don't ask me WHY my cell phone company offers this service, but they do. And about every six months or so, I see it on my statement and wonder if it's worth paying the $3 a month for a service I rarely use. I just had that conversation in my head the other day.

Ha. The thing is - it's sooooo worth it. I can't even remember how many times I've used the roadside assistance to call a tow (it pays for a tow for up to 10 miles) used it to unlock my car when I've locked keys inside, and once, even to MAKE a key because I'd lost the only key to my car. All for $3 a month (I try to at least tip the guy that has to come out in the middle of the night to come to rescue me, though.)

So, I debated the options with my dad:

1) Call for a tow - albeit a free tow - and wait an hour and then be stuck at a service station somewhere down town;
2) Drive to the nearest service station myself and have them refill my power steering fluid (and pay for them to do it.
3) Drive to the nearest auto supply store and buy power steering fluid and fill it myself.

My dad was pretty confident I was OK to drive myself, could fill the power steering fluid on my own and save a few bucks by just doing it himself. In other words: That was what HE would do. So I chose option 3.

No sooner had I pulled out of the parking lot of the auto parts store after refilling my power steering fluid and called my dad to thank him for his wisdom (seriously, he's better than Click and Clack - he diagnosed a car problem from 500 miles away!) and I was all "Sweet! We're back in business! Thanks Dad!" when I noticed something ELSE was wrong.

My car was uh...tilting to one side. WTF? I was seriously in the middle of patting myself on the back (he may have diagnosed it, but THIS GIRL had to go in, buy power steering fluid and FILL it herself...round of applause, please) when I found myself in a familiar situation - YET AGAIN.

"Uh, Dad. I gotta go. I think I have a flat tire."

I pulled over to the side of the road, assessed the damage - my right front tire was indeed flat. But my dad wasn't able to be on standby this time.

"Well, I guess you call the roadside assistance people. I gotta run, I'm still at work and have a meeting."

So there I was, left to find my own resolution. But here's the problem. It was 4:45. Traffic was starting up and the roadside assistance people, though great, confirmed that it would be another hour before a tow truck arrived. Reluctantly, I agreed and called on a friend to see if she could pick up Cael from his after-school program. If I don't make it there by six they start charging. And with a tow being an hour a way, there was NO WAY I was making it there by six. I sighed, rolled my eyes and cursed my luck.

But then I inspected the tire.

I watched the traffic crawling slowly by ... drivers staring at me. I looked back at the tire.

This time, without my dad's help, I weighed the options.

I popped the trunk and started pulling out the random debris that lie back there: a pair of rollerblades, wiper fluid, a fleece jacket. Finally I got to the bottom and popped open the compartment for the spare tire and nearly cried.

Years ago (almost 15 years ago, to be exact) on a chilly September evening, my dad made a deal with me: I could get a car and a license if I could change all the tires on his Ford Ranger pickup truck. Being 15 and bulletproof, I was all "Deal!"

Fast forward to about 3 hours later and me standing at the back kitchen door in tears, smeared in grease and dirt, clad in a Dickies Insulated Work Overalls topped with a blue hooded sweatshirt, a knit stocking hat and work gloves, trying to warm up by the space heater in a very cold garage. I was BEGGING to be let out of my deal.

"It's not fair!" I screamed. "I can't do it! It's too cold out here!" I think I'd MAYBE gotten two tires on and off in that amount of time. My dad smiled. I knew my bottom lip trembling was getting him right at his core (what father wants to see his daughter cry?) but he wouldn't budge.

"A deal's a deal," my father said calmly. "You want a car? You want a license? Change the tires. You can do it!"

I hated him. I used all the cuss words and bad names I knew at the time and slung them mentally toward him, standing there in the warm kitchen. I don't even remember exactly how many hours it took me to change all four tires that night ... but eventually I finished the job.

So, when it came to having to change ONE tire on a tiny Kia Rio on the side of a busy street versus waiting for a tow, I was fairly confident I could handle it. Since I'd already tackled the power steering fluid, I figured, why not go two for two today? And I realized what my dad had really been teaching me all those years ago.

I smiled to myself and took a moment to just mentally thank my father for his life lessons that fifteen years later are still coming in handy. Such a smart guy, my dad.

Still - it wasn't until I dug into the spare tire compartment that I really realized how far my father's love and wisdom really goes.

There, sitting on top of the spare, was a full and complete-sized tire.

I choked back tears. Not because I was hot and sweaty and having quite possibly one of the worst days ever, but because it was a TIRE. I'd forgotten my dad had put it there when I first got the car, telling me he'd much rather me have an extra tire than a spare ... just in case. It seemed like such a small thing at the time ... but standing on the side of the road it was a HUGE thing. A relief. Comfort.

Yes, he might've made me change all four tires on his truck one night as I cried all the way through it. But he's also the kind of father that would go out of his way to ensure his daughter's safety so that if she ever HAD to change a tire, she'd wouldn't be driving around on a spare. I wanted to cry only because I realized that my dad cared about me THAT much. My dad isn't just a hard ass in a suit ... and if you make the mistake of characterizing him like that you'd be wrong. He's also the guy that probably scoured a salvage yard for an extra Kia Rio tire for me to have in my car ... just in case I needed a little extra help.

It was like my dad was there, standing by my side saying, "Change the tire. You can do it!"

And so I did. In 85-degree weather, on the side of the road in rush-hour traffic. And in under 25 minutes.

As I pulled away I called my dad back and told him of my success. This time, I thanked him out loud for being my dad. For being very wise. For teaching me how to change a tire and for even more importantly: making me do it on my own. My dad may have thought teaching me how to change a spare was just that.

But in reality, he was preparing me for the many situations in life creep up on you that you're forced to deal with, whether you like it or not. And when you think you can't deal with it ... you reach deep down inside and realize you can. You Can Do It!

When I retold the story to a friend today, she commented that if it had been her, she would've been in tears. I hadn't realized it, but the only tears I'd really choked back were those of relief ... not of anger.

"Please," I said, "it could've been worse. At least the car runs!" And I would know. I've SEEN worse. It's BEEN worse before. I've spent many moments in my twenties stuck on the side of the road in tears, calling on roadside assistance and calling my dad for car advice. This? This was no biggie.

So, it looks as if bad 'car karma,' may follow me into my thirties. But perhaps the lesson I've learned over the years is that put into perspective, it's JUST one tire ... and not four.

It's JUST a car. Not a person.

And I'm OK.

XOXO,

SMITC

P.S. 29 more days til 30! During the "Countdown to the End of LSOTS" I'll be posting pics of my twenties like this one - Behind the wheel one of the car I drove in college! Look at all those ear piercings and untweezed eyebrows! Oh my...

Countdown to the End of LSOTS!

2010-09-01T09:50:00.005-07:00

In 30 days, on September 30, I will turn 30.

If you're doing the math, that means it will be my Golden Birthday.

And, in honor of turning 30 on the 30th in 30 days, I've decided to do a little NaBloPoMo of my own ... although, it will not be called NaBloPoMo, it will be called "Countdown to the End of LSOTS!"

So much more catchy.

Oh, and when you say "Countdown to the End of LSOTS" it is required that you flash "jazz hands." Just in case you weren't already...

(Yes, I know summer ends on the 22nd of September, but by the power vested in me, creator of LSOTS and THIS BLOG, LSOTS does not officially end until midnight on the 30th. Take that, Autumnal Equinox.)

In the next 30 days I will be posting every day, sometimes about random things because honestly, it can be a b*#&$ for me to write two posts a week. But, more likely, I will about what the LSOTS has meant to me. What it has brought to my life. What I have learned.

All leading up to a final post on the 30th about how I feel about turning 30.

Countdown to the end of LSOTS will also be accompanied by a giant party, to which anyone in the 50 mile radius of Denver is invited. Talk to Denver's Tumbling Leaf if you wanna come (it will technically be ON the 1st of October, when I've already turned 30, but trust me, the sentiment will not be lost because of timing issues.)

And if you can't attend in person, I invite you all to share and celebrate this milestone with me via the blog. For those of you who have already crossed the 30 threshold, please share your wisdom and incites. For those who inevitably WILL cross this threshold one day - please keep me inspired by your youthful thoughts as well. Or, if you relate at all, in any way, just cheer me on! Over the years I've learned so much from those who read and comment and sometimes feel like you all know me better than I know myself. I am obviously not the first person to ever turn 30, nor will I be the last. But for me, this has been a very pivotal summer, nay, YEAR, and I will be reflecting on all of it during these last 30 days of my twenties.

As of this moment, I'm looking forward to this milestone. I can't guarantee I won't change my mind about that in the next 30 days though ;) So for now: All board the crazy train as I process it all during the "Countdown to the End of LSOTS" and prepare for the next decade of my life!

XOXO

-SMITC

Feel Good Friday!

2010-08-27T12:03:00.000-07:00

Happy Friday ya'll!

I'm very glad the weekend is here. On deck is a friend's pool party, maybe a hike, possibly an "Air Show" (I've never been but a friend told me I should take Cael?) a church picnic and ... lots of research. Blah. :(

I'm such a buzz kill, aren't I?

With that in mind, I needed a pick-me-up today, so I opted to dress "fun" for work today. Since I work at a software company and sit in front of a computer all day I'm not required to always be "business casual." Especially not on Fridays.

But this Friday felt like it needed some fun. Felt like it needed something to smile about. So I decided to step it up a notch. Something casual, yet cute.

Behold (and ignore my messy bedroom):

I don't claim to have any fashion sense at all, but it felt cute and the barista at Starbucks even said so, so it MUST be true ;) Jeans are Lucky brand jeans that I've had forever with the cuffs rolled, shirt is a khaki-colored loose GAP T-shirt with a scooped neck and the shoes?

Ahhh...the shoes. Let's take a closer look, shall we?

Shoes are nude silk fabric from Nine West ... procured during a swap. I think the shoes belonged to two of my BFFs at some point. Thank goodness for another lovely BFF who spotted them with me in mind and told me to grab them ... I almost passed them up at the swap and now I loooove them.

I threw my hair up and held it back with a headband and added in some earrings I acquired from a swap long-ago and I like to use when I'm wearing neutral colors.

Easy. Comfy. Cute. On a Friday!

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend ahead,

-SMITC

Choose Your Own Adventure

2010-08-26T10:06:00.005-07:00

Here's the thing.

I get "involved"/in relationships/in a place where I have to make a decision about "committing" and I start to freak out a little bit.

Yes, I went on a date - nay - a couple of dates in this last week. And it was great. Comfortable. Easy. I Had Fun. The End.

Or is it?

I started freaking out. I started looking at being in a relationship weeks, months down the line and how I would feel about it. And I just wasn't sure. So I posed the question to a good girlfriend (she made an appearance on this blog in my last blog post) about how to deal with the question "Should I Stay or Should I Go?"

Her response below had me laughing all afternoon. Not only does it show how brilliant she is (she seriously came up with this on a whim) but also, how she's all "I'll see you super commitment-phobe freakout and raise you a dose of RATIONAL."

Although I can't take credit for it, I'm using this moment to pass along her dating rubric to singles, commitment-phobes, people in relationships around the world about how to rationally and logically decide whether or not to continue dating someone. Here goes:

Well, let me phrase it as a choose-your-own-adventure thing. Just tape it to your mirror and follow along as things progress. Don't jump ahead to the next question until you're ready!

Q1: Are you having fun with _____?
(if yes, proceed to Question 2. If no, end things.)

Q2: Do you think he's a good person?
(if yes, proceed to Question 3. If no, end things.)

Q3: Does he make you feel pretty? Smart? Like you're in the same league?
(if yes, proceed to Question 4. If no, end things.)

Q4: Is he a responsible adult with a steady income?
(if yes, proceed to Question 5. If no, end things.)

Q5: Do you smile when the phone rings and it's him? Look forward to seeing him? Experience something and want to call him because he's the first person you thought of?
(if yes, proceed to Question 6. If no, end things.)

Q6: Is he nice to animals, children and his family?
(If yes, proceed to Question 7. If no, end things and call police if appropriate.)

Q7: Are you proud to be seen with him? To call him your boyfriend?
(If yes, proceed to Question 8. If no, end things.)

Q8: Can you trust him?
(If yes, proceed to Question 9. If no, remain on question 8 until you find out why.)

Q9: Is he good with [insert name of child, or niece or name of closet friend who means a lot to you. In my case, it was "Cael."]?
(If yes, proceed to question 10. If no, break up with him.)

Q10: Is he good in the sack?
(If yes, proceed to question 11. If no, continue rehearsing in the sack and try to make it better. If it's a lost cause, break up with him.)

Q11: Do you feel like a team together? Is your partnership one of equality, and do you have the same goals in life?
(If yes, proceed to Question 12. You're getting close to the end! If no, break up.)

Q12: Do you think he'd cheat on you?
(If yes, remain here until you figure out why. If no, proceed to Question 13.)

Q13: Do you loooooooove him?
(If yes, proceed to Question 14. If no, break up.)

Q14: Do you want to have babies with him?
(If yes, proceed to Question 15. If no, decide how important babies are before moving forward.)

Q15: Do you want to marry him?
(If yes, marry him. If no, break up!)

-------

Yes. All fine and logical.

But the thing is ... the one thing her rubric doesn't take into account is that certain amount of ... to steal a line from Sex and the City: Zsa Zsa Zsu. That certain amount of flutter in your gut you get when you meet someone. The little thing that makes your heart beat faster the next time you see them. The thing that helps you answer Q5. in my friend's list. The thing that makes Q10 sensational. The thing that makes you want to scream "YES" from the rooftops in answer to Q15.

The thing that lets you know that settling for anything less would mean just that: settling. And once you're familiar with that Zsa Zsa Zsu feeling ... you know when it's missing.

"Some people are settling down. Some people are settling. And some people refuse to settle for anything less than ... butterflies." - Carrie Bradshaw

I think you know which camp I fall into.

XOXO

-SMITC

Have Fun. The End.

2010-08-23T23:13:00.011-07:00

Editor's Note: I realize by writing this up I'm about to cop to a fair amount of preemptive "e-stalking" via certain social media sites about a potential suitor. Please remember that I have an undergrad degree in doing such things, and friends who get paid to do such things for a living. (Well, not e-stalk, but they do have a fair amount of experience in digging up information.) For any male readers out there: If you are ever to go on a blind date with someone, you're kidding yourselves if you think your potential date hasn't done some e-stalking of her own. It's just the day and age we live in. Deal with it ... and possibly reset your privacy settings on your Facebook page. - SMITC

So, I can't tell you how or when, (to protect his nice identity) but in the last week or so, I met a handsome young fellow.

And he asked me out on a date.

Initially, I was giddy about said request. He was cute, polite and a friend of a friend ... so I knew he was legit.

But for some reason, based upon some faulty research (read: Facebook stalking) on my part, I got into my head that he was younger than me.

Like ... 6 years younger than me.

Again, don't ask me WHY I came to such a conclusion, but I did. And I was so worried that when we would go on a date, I'd have to be all "Hey, by the way, I have a kid" and he'd be all "Holy shit? Really? Ummmm ... it's probably best if we never see each other again."

It's just that ... if I were a 23-year-old and someone told me on a first date that they had a son older than the amount of time that I'd been out of college, I probably would've choked on my sushi and needed a paramedic. To be fair, at 23 I DID have a kid, but if I hadn't, I definitely would not be down with that kind of news. Call me a hypocrite but ... I know what kind of person I was before having a child and that kind of person was definitely not interested in dating someone who had one. People think I don't understand the "I'm not cool with the kid" speech, but trust me. I totally do. Especially if I were 23.

So my excitement waned. I expected it to be our first date ... and our last. But thankfully, with the help of some very good girlfriends, (aka StarReporter, SocialMediaGirl, and PRGuru) they prepped me for such a conversation and did a little digging of themselves. The conversation (via e-mail) last week went something like this: (Names have been changed of course)

Me: I just confirmed from [potential date's] friend that [potential date] probably doesn't know about the kid sitch. [Potential date's friend] was really cool about me asking and said he does recall a convro that they've had though, about [potential date] saying he wasn't against it. Hmmm...We'll see how the 23 year old takes the news if it comes up tonight.

StarReporter: So is he really 23? Or is that your guesstimate?

Me: It's my guesstimate. According to LinkedIn and based upon the year it says he finished his degree.

SocialMediaGirl: Just go have some fun and have someone buy you dinner. he could be ... worth checking out, even for a date or two or At least a new make out partner. (He looked older than 23 if you ask me).

StarReporter: Hang hang on, Jill. Is he from [Denver suburb]? If so, totally class of 1995. [Link to his classmates.com profile] I totally looked up his name from the LinkedIn post the other day!

Me: He totally is from [Denver suburb]! Could it be? Could he be...33 and not 23?

StarReporter: I googled around on [Potential Date's name] and there were like zero of them. Besides, I don't think he looks 23 at all!

Me: He does run marathons and things like the Bolder Boulder. I googled him yesterday too and didn't find much, but did find race results for him. Also, he likes to hunt, which I happen to find incredibly sexy ... you win points with me if you do anything that my dad can bond with you over.

Suddenly a little more excited for tonight. I'm such an ageist.

SocialMediaGirl: Who cares about his age? He wants to take you out! FTW if you ask me.

Me: I normally wouldn't care but...the age issue is usually a precursor to a guy being all "sooo....you have a kid. Hmmm. Check please?" That's all. It just helps to know whether I'm walking into a situation where a 23 year old is going to freak out when he finds out, or a 33 year old is gonna be like "Meh. I'm cool with that. not a deal breaker!"

SocialMediaGirl: But you are assuming 23 y.o.'s are more mature about other people's kids than a 33 y.o. I'm just saying that its much like the whole idea of people assuming things about single moms. He's a person, an adult, and therefore could potentially be an interesting person at that (marathons? hunting? he wants to make out?) just go with it! ;)

Dude, I went on a coffee date with a 25 yo last fall ;) he had S&P hair and had his own business AND he knew I had a kid and an ex. He didn't care and still sometimes sends me flirty tweets.

Me: Yes. I am assuming that. I'm not saying he would...but it does make a difference in how I say it. Older guys have told me that at a certain age, you just kind of expect to hear that a chick has been divorced or she has a kid. 23-year-olds dating people they think are 23 don't prepare themselves for that.

StarReporter: Ooh good point SocialMediaGirl on making assumptions! Just go make out and have sushi and have fun! Viva la LSOTS!

PRGuru: Yeah, just because he finish his degree in his early 20s doesn't mean he doesn't have his shit together now. And you don't know his circumstances. If you go on a date with him, you'll find out.

SocialMediaGirl: So how do you know [Potential Date] thinks you're 23?

Me: You guys, I'm not making assumptions, I'm simply saying that it makes a difference in how I approach the subject matter... And BTW - I love the preggo StarReporter's advice "Just go make out and have sushi and have fun!" You are going to get me into more trouble while pregnant, StarReporter, I swear.

StarReporter: Dude, I can't have sushi or make out with anyone who's not my husband! Live the dream!

SocialMediaGirl: Yes don't forget the fun part of all this! ;) it just didn't sound like you were having any before you got on a date with him yet!

Me: SocialMediaGirl, in answer to your question: I assumed he was 23 based upon the LinkedIn profile and just figured he didn't know I had a kid and assumed I was about the same age because...what 23 year old asks out a 29 year old?

SocialMediaGirl: ...what 23 year old asks out a 29 year old?: If that 29 yo is SMITC, a smart 23 yo! ha!

Me: Hey oh!!!! lol :) You're right, who WOULDN'T ask out ME?! :)

SocialMediaGirl: "who WOULDN'T ask out ME?!" Answer: idiots, dumbasses and [bleep!]. Leave 'em and forget 'em!"

Me: me = relationship saboteur. Commitmentphobia here, front and center. But now with the new info from StarReporter I'm willing to give it a shot and not be AS AFRAID to tell him I have a kid.

SocialMediaGirl: Ok seriously Jill, put Dr. Laura's advice (you know, the advice you're paying your very hard earned money for, therefore I would say it's even more worth listening to her for!) to good use. What would she say about a date: it's just a date. it's not a trial run for a future spouse. Have some fun, test 'em out, take it for what it is. Let him buy. Let him tell you look purty across the dinner table at a sushi restaurant! And that's NICE. And lovely. And perhaps worth making out with. Regardless of age. 30 be damned! Coz you're that smokin'! wooo hoooo!

StarReporter: LOL. No, no no. Dr. Laura is the one who recently apologized on air for dropping the n-bomb repeatedly. Dr. Lisa is Jill's advice giver.

Me: Here's the thing: I have one night before Cael gets back. ONE NIGHT and I'm just hoping it doesn't go badly. Because that would just not be a great way to end the BFZ.

I'm feeling the pressure that this like the LAST DATE I'll go on for a month (I know it might NOT be, but it feels that way) and I'm just worried that he'll be super young/irresponsible and then I'll break some poor kid's heart and feel badly. LSOTS is coming to an end and I'm just...nervous that even if this is just dinner...I'll end up disappointing someone or them me.

It's just dinner! (But he is super sweet and PLEASE GOD, let him turn out to be 33).

Me: He IS 33! I just googled his recent race results. Do you see what age bracket he is in [link to race results]. He IS 33! HE IS 33!!!!!

StarReporter: StarReporter, FTW!

SocialMediaGirl: Star Reporter, seriously nice work there, scoop ;) What 23 y.o. has a goatee anyway? Goatees are totally the facial hair of our generations (gotta love the 90s).

Me: OK - he has a beard. The goatee is more beardish. I would NOT be interested in a guy with a goatee.

(short pause)

Me: OMG, I have a date tonight. A DATE. I need to like...get prepared. Shit. shit. shit. I was just planning on wearing something stupid and whatever was clean. OMG.
Shit.

SocialMediaGirl: Ok we just talked you off the ledge of going on a lukewarm date with someone who may or may not have been 23. Don't freak out about going on a date, the SAME date, now with the same guy who happens to be 33. ;) Have fun. The end.

---------

And so I did. More on THAT topic later ;)

XOXO

-SMITC

A homemade recipe for homesickness

2010-08-23T22:18:00.003-07:00

Today the weather in Denver was on the cool side. As I left work it felt like fall for the first time. Today was Cael's first day of school and Monday night football was on.

These are the times when I miss home the most. Football is religion in Nebraska and football weather triggers a lot of memories. It's this time of year that I remember being fifteen and going to spy on the guys' football practice in volleyball knee pads while the rest of my teammates and I waited for late volleyball practice to begin. It's this time of year that I remember daydreaming about "holding hands" with a special someone at the high school football game and and eventually, sitting in the stands at a UNL football game among a Sea of Red.

(a thank you to Kate Noontz for her image)

I miss it something fierce.

So when I got home, I pulled out a recipe for beef stew. My mom's homemade beef stew is something I could never replicate and so I turned to an upgraded version instead: Food Network chef Dave Lieberman's Red Wine Beef Stew with Potatoes & Green Beans recipe. I'd carefully selected my ingredients earlier in the week, possibly sub-consciously knowing I would need a homemade food fix later in the week. I took my time in the preparation; after several failed attempts at cooking I've realized that it has been my impatience that has led to a lot of burned disasters. The process took over two hours (Cael and I took the dog for a half-hour walk in between simmering and stewing steps) but the final result was divine:

I threw some cucumbers together with a little mayo, vinegar, dill and celery seed to make a cucumber salad and added some hearty bread to my plate to sop up the gravy. A dinner my grandmother would be proud of!

To all Nebraskans, I miss you and our The Good Life very much. My first chance to get back won't be for a few more weeks, keep the light on for me until then.

XOXO

-SMITC

Exhibits A and B

2010-08-20T11:15:00.001-07:00

As further evidence of how I've been living the past few weeks:

I came home at noon today and was mindlessly unloading the dishwasher for the first time since last weekend.

I was about halfway through when I looked down and had to laugh at the number of:

a) Wine glasses

and

b) Forks.

There were a few regular glasses here and there, but the evidence shows that someone must've snuck into my house and has been drinking a lot of wine and eating out of take-out containers over my sink.

Tonight, I'm looking forward to cooking an ACTUAL meal. With plates to eat it off of. Maybe even napkins if I'm feeling fancy.

XOXO

-SMTIC

Mom > BFZ

2010-08-20T10:07:00.003-07:00

I was nervous for Cael's arrival in Denver on Wednesday.

Not only do I fret for about an hour and a half while he's in-flight ("Please God, protect my baby while he's in the skies...") but I was nervous for another reason.

Would I remember how to be a mom?

It seems completely ridiculous, I know, but I've had three and a half weeks "off" from mom duties and there was a GIANT part of me that was excited to have him back home ... but a small part of me that was sad to see my spontaneous lifestyle go. I'm not afraid to admit that.

So ... would I remember how to BE a mom, and would I remember that I need to clean up my language a bit, drive a bit slower and hold some body's hand as we crossed a parking lot? What if I was so used to this lifestyle that I just ... forgot? And something BAD happened? And I'd have to be all "excuse me officer, I um, can't find my son because I was too busy texting when he walked off the plane."

You see...I've never been very good at combining this "BFZ" Jill with "mom" Jill. I had my son at an early age which meant that either I'm "mom" Jill around some group of people, because they're older than me and have kids and I can identify with them that way, or I'm "BFZ" Jill around others who are my age or younger and are kid-free. I've yet to find that good happy medium of both (I feel.) You can't have cocktails on a Wednesday night and still have time to make cupcakes for school the next day. So I turn on a "mode" so to speak when I'm in a certain situation.

But this summer has brought so many friends, blessings and new experiences that I don't want to give up now that I've found, yet with Cael's arrival, the "mom" Jill switch needed to be turned back on. Two or three years ago I could not have FATHOMED being away from my son for three and a half weeks. Even if it meant a few extra nights with friends and crashing wherever I landed ... it meant being AWAY FROM MY KID, Are you kidding me? Not worth it.

Except ...you know... (dare I say it?) It wasn't ALL bad.

I don't mean to say I'm ready to ship Cael off again, please don't misunderstand me. I just mean to say that ... it was nice to have a break. It was nice to let someone else take control for a little bit instead of me having to be responsible for EVERYTHING. I have you know, some control issues ;) so ... letting go was tough. But I found out that ... I enjoyed it. A little break every now and then is NOT so terrible.

(People who know the struggle I've had with my control issues as a parent like...picking up their jaws off the floor right now. I know, I know ... but you know, his dad did a great job while he was away and my family helped out a lot also. I complain a LOT about how my younger sister, who lives close to home never has had to pay for a babysitter because my parents or friends always step in. So I'm not gonna lie ... it was nice to just...allow them to take care of my son for a little bit while I got a break. )

Which, you know, is a good realization to finally come to and not a moment too soon. This is the first of many summers to come that he'll likely spend with his dad and his family for an extended period of time. That's how bi-state parents do it. So, as much as it hurts to watch him walk onto a plane, knowing I won't hold his little hand for a few weeks, see his smile, or turn around to the sound of him laughing ... I found out that we can both survive. And it's even a little bit good for us. He had some incredible bonding time with his father while he was away, so much so that it was very hard to say their final goodbyes. He also had some interesting experiences I couldn't have given him, including going to huge water parks with his day camp, hunting down relatives of his family tree (in Kansas!), fishing with his Grandpa Brad, learning to play tennis, spending time with his great grandparents and both of his Grandmas.

But I was worried. When he returned would he be the same? Would we be the same?

Cael and I have such a unique bond ... it's not just parent-child. It's brother-sister, friend-friend, confidant-confidant. Would that all be ... broken?

He was tired when he got off the plane and I approached him and the attendant who was in charge of checking my ID. Cael didn't run up and hug me, and he just sorta put up with me wrapping my arms around him. He stood for pictures and smiled, and let me kiss his cheeks a million times, but I could tell ... it was weird. He wasn't sure what to think.

As soon as we were out of the airport I put the camera away and as we drove home, I let the car fall into silence for a while. I checked in my rear view to see him staring out, into the night.

I reached back my right arm, as I have so many times before when we've been in the car on our long drives back to Nebraska, and just held it out to him. Sometimes, no words need to be spoken. Sometimes it's just nice to have a hand to hold. In the darkness, a little hand found mine and we drove together that way, in silence, but the meaning was conveyed: I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready.

When we first moved to Colorado and Cael would go visit his dad for a week during a school break, he would come back full of emotions. He wasn't quite sure how to express how he was feeling and it showed: He would get aggressive at daycare, and then emotional when things didn't go his way. He would end up in tears about something insignificant and we finally realized: He's two. He has no way to express what's he's feeling: Confusion, Sadness, Loneliness and Frustration. So, we gave him a vocabulary at an early age and told him it was OK to say to either parent: "I miss my mom." or "I miss my dad." and neither one of us would take this as an insult. We encouraged him to literally say "I'm sad today because I miss my family." Once he learned how to express what he was feeling and that it OK to do so, the transition between mom and dad's house greatly improved. I also explained to his teachers what to expect after he'd been gone on a visit and with their help, we would recognize the signs and encourage him to allow himself to feel what he was feeling.

He was tired after a long day at the zoo with his dad and a long flight ... but even still, that much quietness is unusual for my kid. Eventually he fell asleep in the car, but I woke him up once we arrived home and hauled him inside. He changed into PJs, brushed his teeth and together with the dog, we went to hang out in his bed to stay with him as he fell asleep in his room for the first time in almost a month.

I'm not quite sure how the conversation came up, but eventually he started talking about how he didn't like the kids at his day camp back in Nebraska. They were mean to him and made him feel like a "bad kid" ... nobody liked him and they were always yelling at him or not treating him very nicely.

Before long, the lip trembled and the tears spilled over. I held him in my arms as he cried - seemingly about the mean kids at his day camp, but I knew better.

My son has had to deal with issues I never even had to worry about at his age. At his age, mean kids WERE the worst thing that could happen to me. I didn't have to deal with the whole "I miss my entire family, I had a great time and now I'm back here, 500 miles away about to start school with kids I haven't seen all summer and I'm not quite sure how I feel."

We talked about how to handle bully conflict. We talked about how, since he knows how it feels to be bullied to never, ever treat someone like they had treated him. We talked about how many, many people think he's a great kid ... I reminded him that so many more important people in his life believe in him and he'd be going back to a school where all of his friends are ... and these bullies were far, far away.

"But you know what bothers me the most?" I asked him. And right before I heard myself say it, I realized I was giving him a speech my own mother had given me just THREE weeks before, as I was having my own pity party about an ex-boyfriend of mine moving on to a new relationship.

"What bothers me the most is that you've let these people determine how you feel about yourself."

I then echoed the words my own father has told me, many, many times when I've complained that someone was picking on me - be it a friend at school, a client a work or another parent at Cael's school.

"NO ONE can make you feel anything you don't want to." He stopped crying at me long enough to look at me like I was speaking Pig Latin.

"What?" he said through puffy eyes.

I went on to talk about how there will always be bullies in life. And I've watched him walk away from those kinds of people before ... so I know he's capable of being an extremely confident and smart kid ... and that I was sad that these kids had taken that away from him. What's most important is not showing the bully it doesn't bother you ... but not LETTING it bother you, because you believe in yourself.

It's a lesson I'm still learning myself. I'm still learning how to stand tall in certain situations and be proud of who I am: A single mom to an amazing little boy who is learning as she goes. Who makes mistakes. Who is trying to find out where she fits in also. Some days I know. Some days I struggle.

I told him I knew exactly how he was feeling and how it hurts (At this, he nodded his sweet little head and sunk into tears in my arms again.) It hurts when people judge you and criticize you and you don't know why, because they don't even know you. And it's tough, man, to stand tall in those situations. I was just all "Dude. I totally get it."

Still, I could tell the tears were more than that. He just ... needed to cry. His emotions have grown beyond "I'm sad. I miss my family" and after the luxury of traveling all by himself on a plane back and forth from mom to dad wears off, there's just the realization that "this is what my life is like and it's not like other people's. It sucks to be different from my peers." We've, of course, talked about how it's neat that he's got two houses to grow up in and mom's and dad's houses both have their own set of positives (He has a half-sister back home that he gets to play with! He gets to see family! He gets to climb mountains in CO and go skiing, has his own room!)

But it's not easy. We realize that. It wasn't his choice for his parents to live in different states, so we make sure we let him know how appreciative we are of him being willing (for now) to travel back and forth when he can. I am so, so proud of my son for what he's taken on and what he has the courage to do. Sometimes, though, there's just no words to express that "Mom, this is shitty, but I know there's nothing that can be done about it. This is life, I realize and it isn't always fun."

And it sucks to realize that at such an early age. And sometimes you just need to cry. And so he did.

Suddenly, my worries about slipping back into mom mode faded away. I realized that for the last three and a half weeks, I've been in "BFZ" Jill mode because there wasn't a reason not to be. No one NEEDED me. But there in my arms was a heart that needed holding ... and all the reason I needed.

Any worries I had about our bond being broken were gone. He's still him, and he still needs me. And I'm still me ...

A mom. Which happens to be the best version of myself that I've ever discovered.

XOXO

-SMITC

14ers on the 14th!

2010-08-17T09:56:00.008-07:00

The thing about hiking/climbing a mountain is ... it's a very real metaphor for life. It takes a long time. It's painful, exhilarating and rewarding all at once ... and in the end, you're glad you stuck it out.

The first time I hiked a 14er last summer, I was with a very good friend and his buddy. And there were several reasons why I made it to the top ... mostly because it wasn't JUST a 14er to me. It was, like I said, a huge giant metaphor for what I was going through at the time. The last 100 yards of that climb I was forcing back tears and pushing my body beyond its physical limits, but I refused to give up. Just like I refused to succumb to what I what was happening in my life at that point, I refused to let the mountain win.With every step I took during the last oh, 100 yards or so, I had to reach down into the depths of my consciousness and will my body to move, basically because all parts of my brain were screaming at me to stop. Stop moving. Stop taking one more step. Stop trying and just GIVE UP.

And yet ... I found a way to keep going. Some days as I think back about it, I'm not even sure how. But suffice it to say, when I arrived at the top of my first 14er about a year ago, I quite literally felt on top of the world.

It was one of the most amazing mental experiences I've ever had. And I've relied on that memory many times since when I really felt like giving up on something ... to know that even if I WANT to give up and my brain is TELLING me to give up ... there's something deep inside that refuses to allow it.

Call it stubborness, competitiveness or what you will. But it's one of those things that's just ... good to know about yourself.

This Last Summer of Twenty Something may seem like it's a quirky little name for me to excuse reasons why I'm acting closer to 25 than I am 30, but it started out as a way to give myself the freedom to do things I wouldn't normally do. Or try to do.

Certainly, planning a hike and overnight camping trip for people I barely knew would be on that list.

This summer has been all about new adventures, but truth be told, I'd been talking about a 14er trip since early April. I was itching to climb another mountain and as LSOTS evolved, I realized that not only did I want to climb another mountain, but this time, I wanted to do with the people that have been helping me climb mountains all along.

So, I sent an invite to pretty much everyone I knew and got the party started. I may have gone a bit overboard with the planning, but I kind of enjoyed it a little bit. I sent an e-vite, organized rides, food, etc., Then, the day came. On Saturday morning, bright and early, our group of twelve people, (TWELVE!) met up in my parking lot at 5:30 a.m. to start our adventure of hiking Grays and Torreys peaks in Arapaho National Forest, just south of Bakerville, CO.

(At the trail head! Left to right: Andy, Brittany, Jess B., Joe, HATP, Sarah, me, Jess T., Chris, Catherine, Tyson & Dameon)

After driving to the trail head, parking the cars and unloading the gear, we set off around 7:15 a.m. Right on schedule (make fun of me all you want, but when you plan really well, things go according to PLAN!) There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the sun was shining down upon us. It could not have been more perfect. Only one other person on our trip had hiked those particular peaks before and for others it was their first 14er hike.

I wasn't really sure how our group of 12 were going to make it up the mountain all the way ... but we all just sorta found our own pace, talked or listened to music, stopped when we needed to and cheered each other on.

I gotta say, there's nothing more fun than different circles of your friends coming together in a big Venn Diagram of sorts and helping each other out. A friend of mine from work was chatting with a friend of mine whom I know through another mutual friend. Friends who had never met were laughing over mutual trail observations. Worlds colliding!

Seriously, my heart swelled. And it wasn't 'cause of the altitude.

After four long hours, we all summited Grays around 11 a.m., Saturday, August 14th. Just last summer, someone had given me my first 14er experience, and it was such an awesome gift to give that back to my friends. I was so proud of everyone in our group for pushing through, charging on and getting to the top. It was hard, and it was tough and the last half mile was enduring ... but seeing everyone hug, cheer and grin from ear-to-ear was the BEST reward.

(Summited!)

And once again, I felt on top of the world.

Not because of how far I've come ... but because of the amazing people I've met along the way.

As we took a group photo at the top of Grays peak, I looked and around and realized that six weeks ago, I never would've guessed that I'd be standing with some of them on top of a mountain. Never would've guessed that I would've gotten to know some of them so well that we would go on a day-long hiking trip. I never, ever would've pictured my life looking like this six weeks ago. And certainly would never have pictured it this way a year ago.

But that's really what LSOTS has been about ... I set off on a journey this summer to live out every minute as a twenty-something-year-old thinking that would mean dating and finding love again.

But instead, I found an amazing group of friends, literally right out my back door. And you know?

I'll take that over a summer fling any day ;)

From the Gray's Peak summit our group split in half. Some went, as planned, back down the trail while the rest of us headed over to Mount Torreys, another 14er peak nearby. When you see Torreys from a distance, the trail doesn't look that bad. Every trip report talks about how easy it is to do Grays and Torreys in one day.

(Grays Peak on the left, Torreys Peak on the right)

But when you get up there and see the ACTUAL trail to Torreys from Gray's and realize that instead of a bunch of easy switch backs, you basically have to go straight up the mountain ... your uh, perspective changes a bit.

(The grail from Grays to Torreys. See those tiny dots? Those are people. And that trail is a LOT longer and straight up than it looks from the bottom of the mountain...)

The six of us headed off in the direction of Torreys around 11:45. The exhilaration and triumph I was feeling from bagging my second 14er quickly evaporated as I realized the climb to Torreys was going to be grueling.

Let me repeat: GRUELING.

We took several stops along the way and the six of us eventually were pretty spaced out in distance. At one point I looked up and saw my friend Jess taking a break higher up on the trail, and looked down and saw two other guys in our group taking a break, while I myself sat to catch my breath. The thing about the hiking a mountain of that size is ... no one is going to judge you for taking a second to rest.

(Tito makes a friend!)

Especially when there's things like mountain goats and little tiny dogs named Tito to look at. (A big thank-you to Tito's owners, whoever you are, for letting me pet and carry your dog for a little bit! My little guy could never have made such a climb! I will seriously dog sit for Tito anytime.)

It was tough. I'm not gonna lie. But I felt like this time around, as opposed to my first 14er experience, even though I was exhausted and my body was screaming at me ... I took the time to actually enjoy it. Last year's 14er was all about proving I could do something for myself, but I don't remember half of the scenery or the smell of the mountain air. (I remember forcing back tears and losing toenails.) This time was different. It hurt, but it was an amazing "look at what I'm blessed to be able to do!" kind of hurt. And it felt (to steal a word from a good friend) "spectacular."

Six hours after starting out that morning I summited my second 14er of the day ... the third in my lifetime. And we were not disappointed by what we found at the top. While the summit of Gray's had been crowded and windy, the summit of Torreys was warm and relaxing. We all dropped our packs for a bit and took more than a moment to just enjoy some of the most beautiful scenery on God's green earth.

Yeah, no big deal, I just had lunch on a mountaintop last Saturday. Whatevs ;)

After we took in the sights, took in a nap (and I sent the ritual text of me on top of the mountain to family and friends) we all headed back down.

(Cael's signature pose...I struck the same post at the top of my first 14er last year. Now it's tradition!)

Nobody really prepares you for how much walking DOWN a mountain can suck. By then you're tired, the excitement is over and everyone just wants to be done. The only thing keeping me from whining (too much) was knowing there were flip flops and a cold beer waiting for me back in the parking lot.

About half of the group stayed behind and camped that night at the trail head, sharing stories about the hike and laughing over yummy beverages ;) I had no where else to be, no concept of what time it was and no worry in the world. While sitting around the campfire with friends watching meteors light up the night sky I was just ... present, and in the presence of good people. I felt like pinching myself when I thought about how lucky and blessed I really am.

There were a lot of times in the least year that I did, indeed, feel like giving up. Giving up on believing there was a "better" out there and giving up on even hoping it existed. When you're trudging up a giant mountain and it's taking forever, it's easy to feel like things will NEVER change and you'll NEVER get to where you want to be.

You will yourself to take one more step, even though you don't know why. Even though everything is telling you not to. Even though you want to give up. And eventually, you get to the top of your mountain. I learned that lesson with my first 14er last year.

But LSOTS and this weekend's 14er trip also taught me that not all mountains have to be tackled alone. Meeting new friends and bringing them into my life has been one of the best surprises of this summer ... and being there for them as they tackle their own mountains has been one of the best and unexpected rewards. I was once afraid to bring new people into my life and thought it would mess with my happiness that I'd worked so hard to finally get back.

However, I've come to realize that "happiness is only real when shared." (C. McCandless.)

May you never climb your own mountains alone,

SMITC

14ers, Shooting Stars and Super Stars

2010-08-13T09:59:00.002-07:00

Thank you to Colorado Photos for this amazing pic of both Grays and Torreys!)

Note: This is NOT the last weekend of the Last Summer of Twenty Something.

But it IS the last weekend in what I like to call the "Babysitter-Free Zone." That's BFZ* to you. (*Jersey Shore fans, that was for you!)

Cael comes back next Wednesday, which means my days and nights of coming and going as I please, staying out late (ahem...last night) and getting up late will be over. It also means that my weekends will be spent doing things like...hanging out at the pool, playing with Legos and building couch forts.

Not to say I won't call up the babysitter every once in a while...but the LSOTS will definitely be put on a hold for a few days while I enjoy some time with my buddy next week. (And if you're wondering, even though summer officially ENDS September, 21st, the LSOTS doesn't officially END until my Golden Birthday on September 30th. Oh yes, I plan on dragging this out all through the month of September. And there will be a big giant, LSOTS bash. Be nice to me and you'll be invited ;)

I've been having fun these last few weeks, for sure, but I miss my son: his smile, his laugh and his perspective. We'll be taking some time to readjust to each other AND get ready for both of our respective school years that start in two weeks! Which means...

...that this last weekend in the BFZ needs to be awesome. And so it shall be.

With a little luck and a lot of things going right, by about noon tomorrow, I'll have summited not just ONE, but TWO of Colorado's 14ers: Grays and Torreys peaks.

After that I'll be hanging around a campfire with friends, surrounded by mountains and making wishes on shooting stars, thanks to the annual Perseid's Meteor Shower that will be entertaining us overhead.

And finally, Sunday, after a nap and likely a whole lot of Red Bull, I'll be joining a friend at the Mile High Music Festival and taking in the sweet sounds of Dave Matthews Band.

14ers. Shooting Stars and Super Stars. Not a bad way to go out.

See you on the flip side...

XOXO

-SMITC

Feeling "Alive" in the age of "Dynamite"

2010-08-11T10:11:00.010-07:00

"I throw my hands up in the air sometimes,
saying ay-o, gotta let go."

"I wanna celebrate and live my life,
saying ay-oh, baby let's go."

Not gonna lie...Dynamite by Taio Cruz has been on my iPod all summer as part of "Hip Hop Workout Mix" that I made for working out at the gym.

And then have listened to while cooking in my kitchen.

And am now listening to while sitting at my desk...

Other songs in this mix include:

"Love the Way you Lie" by Rihanna and Eminem
"Better than Her" by Matisse
"I Can't be Tamed" by Miley Cyrus
"Bulletproof" by La Roux
"Your Love is my Drug" by Ke$ha
"Cooler than Me" by Mike Posner
"Ridin Solo" by Jason Derulo
"Just the Way You Are" Bruno Mars

I know. This all coming from the Pearl Jam fan. But the Last Summer of Twenty Something needed a upbeat soundtrack. Though Pearl Jam got me through a lot of tough times...I needed something that was going to get me prepared for a lot of long nights (preferably long nights spent dancing with friends while in heels. Pearl Jam is not "peep-toe stiletto heel" kind of music.) and days of having fun.

The summer isn't over yet...but Cael will be returning in a week and so the LSOTS will certainly slow down. He'll be going back to school and so will I. This doesn't mean there isn't room for fun, but I have to go back to being uh ... more strategic about it, instead of spontaneous. Therefore, in the next week, I hope to:

-Go to a movie without having to worry about a babysitter ... either with a friend or by myself! I love going to movies by myself!

-Work out...to my awesome Hip Hop Workout Mix.

-Climb not just ONE 14er...but climb two this weekend!

-Go out on a few more dates ... yes ... there will be more dating stories :)

-Spend time, by myself, in front of my TV. Doing my nails, watching a movie, reading a magazine, WHATEVER ... just alone time.

-Hanging out by the pool. Gotta keep up the tan!

-Cleaning the house. My entire family is coming to visit at the beginning of next month and I gotta get ready! It just doesn't seem to happen in between taking someone to soccer practice, cub scouts and work.

And finally ... remembering that this summer has been so amazing in so many ways. It's allowed me to learn how to just let go and live my life for once. Thank you, Taio Cruz. (Ironically enough, "Dynamite" is one of the songs I don't mind Cael listening to. It has clean lyrics and he likes to sing along. It's pretty cute to hear him say "Cause I told you once, now I told you TWICE!" ...)

LSOTS hasn't always gone the way I've wanted it to, but I'm learning to sit back and enjoy the ride. In the words of Eddie Vedder, I'm "Alive." For the longest time, being alive was all I could hope for, and just making it through. But now? Now I FEEL Alive. Even though that might mean feeling amazing at times and hurt at others...I'm FEELING and working through those feelings after being numb for a very long time.

So that's just a taste of how this summer is going :) Eventually I'll write a full recap of all that I've learned but...

... the summer isn't over yet.

And yes...those are my gams ;)

XOXO

-SMITC

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

2010-08-09T14:40:00.004-07:00

Many of you have been asking for an update about Cael. No, I am not leaving him home to be babysat by the dog while I run off and have crazy adventures with the neighbors, friends and random doctors.

For the last few weeks he's been back in Nebraska, staying with his father and visiting his Grandparents on the weekends. This last weekend, for instance, he went fishing with with my dad, dominated Wii bowling and played with an electric Hot Wheels race track.

All nice little boy things to do.

And then my mom got a hold of him.

My MOM, the lady with a degree in art.

First, she set him up outside on the patio with a bunch of art supplies.

Then when it got hot, they decided to move their art studio inside.

And they made pretty pictures of fish and fruit.

And then, apparently, they watched Hoarders and my mom texted me to say "You're right, there's a very thin line between people who collect things and people who hoard." (I may or may not have done my own version of "Intervention" with her earlier this year when I visited back home. She took it really well and for the record, she is NOT a Hoarde r. But seriously, my parents have a ROOM devoted to Wizard of Oz paraphernalia. Hmmmm....Thin line indeed.)

No really. I love my parents. I love that my son is getting a small glimpse at the diversity of talents in my family and that both of my parents take time to share those talents with him. Who says you can't go out on the boat fishing in the morning and also draw pretty pictures on the patio in the afternoon? Sounds like your average Saturday to me.

Love you mom and dad! Thank you for taking such good care of my little buddy!

XOXO

-Your daughter :)

Dating as a Single Mom ... Part 4 - HATP!

2010-08-06T10:37:00.016-07:00

So. Finally. Here's the post where I smile the entire way through as I write it. Here's the post that I will read and re-read, likely, as a reminder of how good things do happen to those who wait (and go through lots of therapy.)

In addition to working on my "strategy" for dating as a single mom with Dr. Lisa, I've also working at expanding my social circle this summer. I had confessed to Dr. Lisa that when my two very good Denver friends were busy with their partners/spouses, it seemed that I had nothing to do. And when I have nothing to do and my only option is to sit at home, I inevitably begin to feel sorry for myself.

Yes! SMITC feels sorry for herself every once in a while! But don't tell anybody, mmm k?

Additionally, when you only have two friends and a relationship goes south and those two friends are busy ... it makes the world feel a little ... empty. Small. Which again starts that whole line of thinking that goes a little something like this: "I don't want to get involved because I'm either going to let someone down or BE let down and therefore, it's easier just to sit on the sidelines."

Dr. Lisa picked up on this right away and pointed out that if I were to have more people to DO things with and enjoy life with, then if a breakup were to occur, maybe it wouldn't seem sooooooo devastating. Because I could call on more people and invite them to do something, or hang out, or WHATEVER if my two best friends were busy.

This made sense. And so I put a plan in motion as part of LSOTS to reach out and get to know more people. Certainly in my group of Denver pals I have more than just my two girlfriends, but you know how it is...you know those people but you don't KNOW KNOW them. So I set out to change that. I set out to join friends when they were out having drinks, even if my two besties weren't there. I joined them for Jazz in the Park in City Park and for volleyball in the park at Wash Park. I reached out and invited people to do things (like climb a 14er...more on that later) and I texted and called and in a few week's time I had added more people's numbers to my cell phone contacts and Facebook status than I had in a few months.

(I'm not bragging or saying that I was counting necessarily ... it's just so cool to me that these people were there the whole time and I had been stuck in my own little shell and hadn't reached out to get to know them. Once I did, I found out how amazing and fun they are and I'm so glad that if NOTHING ELSE comes of my time spent with Dr. Lisa...I met some new people. And that's totally worth her hourly fee!)

And little did I know, doing THIS - this reaching out and meeting new people/getting to know people better - was going to lead to meeting a certain one person. Maybe Dr. Lisa knew that all along. Maybe she's not JUST a therapist, but can predict the future. ESP? Perhaps she should open shop as a palm reader? I don't know, but EITHER WAY, once again, I'm so, so thankful for her.

Because on Friday, June 24th, I invited a whole bunch of friends to Happy Hour. It was my effort to reach out! Get to know people better! One of those people who came happened to be my realtor-turned-friend, Brian Smith. That night, Brian and I talked about doing a hike (I love to hike, but my besties were busy, so I needed someone to hike with...and here I was - reaching out - doing what Dr. Lisa told me to do!) So on Sunday, June 26th, Brian and I headed up to Eldorado Canyon for a 2-hour jaunt. Though I've hung out with Brian and his girlfriend at church and at social settings before I'd never hung out with him one-on-one. (And no, it's not what you're thinking, I did NOT steal my realtor friend from his girlfriend. Jeeez. Come on!) Brian and I had a really nice low-key hike that morning and talked about a number of things. Because we're both spiritual, eventually we came to the topic of relationships and how, I feel that I've really put out into the world that I'm ready for a relationship...so...where is my relationship? Why hasn't it JUST come along?

Brian gave me a really good explanation and answered my question about "The Universe" this way: "It's like rocks and pebbles in a stream. For many things, the water [Universe] will move the small rocks down the stream. This takes no time at all. But all rocks are not the same size. And for those bigger rocks, that are a huge part of your life, the water moves them little by little. Sometimes you can't even see the difference. But eventually you see that the water has moved that big rock too, over time and when it's ready. And the size of that rock is different for everybody."

Huh. Interesting. Well then. I must have a freak'n BOULDER sitting in my stream. Come on, water! Get moving!

After returning from the hike and realizing that without Cael around I could do WHATEVER I wanted to, I decided I'd hit up the pool to cool off. I don't normally hang out by the pool, but what the hell? I had nothing to do. It seemed like a harmless way to spend an hour. I called Cael and checked in with him as I made my way down the stairs to our condo's pool area and noticed two guys sitting off in the corner; a younger guy and an older guy. I wasn't particularly feeling chatty at the moment and I was on the phone anyway, so I ignored them and set up my towel on a lounge chair about 10 feet away. I finished my conversation with Cael, closed my eyes and prepared to soak up the sun.

Except, these two guys I had planted myself next to kept TALKING. About what I don't KNOW, but they were not quiet. And all I wanted to do was take a quick little nap and get a little sun, WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?

And then I heard a voice ask "Do you want a vodka lemonade?"

I opened my eyes to see this figure standing over me. I can't even tell you what went through my mind at that moment, because this person had been sitting next to me minutes before and now he was asking me if I wanted a drink without even introducing himself?

So I did what any girl in my position would do.

"Yes. Absolutely I would."

He disappeared into a condo near the pool and a while later came back out with one of the best vodka lemonades I'd ever had. I found out his name and his boss's name (the older gentlemen at the pool with him) and found out they'd moved to the area in April, were living in a company condo located in my condo area and didn't know too many people. During our little chit-chat I trying my best to appear calm and collected but in my head I was all "WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? YOU CAN'T TALK TO NEW PEOPLE! You are in a GREAT place right now, WHY ARE YOU MESSING WITH THAT? DUMB DUMB DUMB!"

But for some reason, that didn't stop me from inviting them down to City Park Jazz with me and my friends later on that night. We exchanged phone numbers and I went up to my place to take a shower. I swear to God, as soon as I was around the corner of the pool and out of their sight, I think I hyperventilated. I mean...it was all fine and good to get to know EXISTING friends, but meeting new ones? This was NOT a part of Dr. Lisa's plan. I was shaking from head to toe, not because I was excited, but I was scared to death about WHAT I HAD JUST DONE. And seriously, that's how it kept repeating in my brain "WHAT DID YOU JUST DO!?!? IDIOT!"

I put myself together, headed out to Jazz and they confirmed a bit later that they would be meeting up with me and my friends. I had a text all written out telling them NOT to come because it was kind of rainy and lightning and you know, maybe we should just hang out another night (and by other night, in my head I meant NEVER.) I just had you know...gotten to this really good place and was happy and I didn't know these people AT ALL and I'd invited them into my inner sanctum of my closest friends? Was I crazy?

But I put down the phone. I never sent that text.

And a little over a month later, I'm very thankful. I'm thankful that I started a journey with Dr. Lisa months before that. I'm thankful that I learned to let people in. I'm thankful that I took a chance and stepped outside my comfort zone, knowing that I could get hurt. I wouldn't have done any of that if it hadn't been for her help.

I arrived at the park and was all "OK, you guys, so I just something kiiiinda crazy. I invited these guys I met at the pool and I don't know, they're OK, but if they suck, I'm SORRY, just can you please be nice and put up with them for me? Please? K?"

They assured me it would be fine. A while later my new friends arrived and joined in the fun like they'd known me and my friends for ages. They were comfortable, funny and interesting. And when I took a break with some girls to run to the porta-potty bathrooms, they all turned to me and said "UM, So, you could've told us your new friend is like, GORGEOUS! Did you not notice that? He's like...model hot. He could seriously be an actor, he's THAT hot."

And I was all "um...what?"

Because truth be told, I hadn't. I hadn't even noticed. I was soooo wrapped up in the fact that I was not at all comfortable meeting this new person and freaking out and wanting to tell them NOT to join us that I hadn't even gotten that good of a look at him.

When we returned to the group, I did, indeed, get a better look at the guy.

And from that point on, according to my friends, "Hottie at the Pool" was born*

*for those that have read my blog for many years, you understand the significance of the nickname "HATP" which is not unlike a similar nickname for a similar guy ... HATG ;)

HATP and I have gotten to know each other a lot more since that night at City Park Jazz ... the night that I almost told him not to meet up. We've done Happy Hours, done drinks downtown into the wee hours of the morning, done dinner and even just hung out together because we're bored and he literally lives right next door. There's never a dull moment, nor a lack of something to talk about. In some ways, I feel like I've known him for much longer than a month. Meeting him gave me additional practice in putting the "Non-Disclosure Conclusion" into play and once again, it worked marvelously. He understood why and has been absolutely respectful of my position as mom. And like me, HATP has his own, uh, stories and situations about his past life to tell ... and together we've bonded over our mutual "commitment phobia."

The conversation went something similar to this:

HATP: "I uh, have a bit of commitment phobia"

Me: "No I have commitment phobia."

HATP: "I get involved and then I freak out."

Me: "No I get involved and then I freak out. I have a freak'n therapist for this reason."

HATP: "Me too!"

Peas in a pod.

For this reason, HATP and I remain close friends and for right now, that's what's best for me. And for him. (Oh, you thought this story had a romantic ending? Nah. Not today anyway...Because trust me, for a commitmentphobe like me...getting involved with another commitmentphobe is NOT advisable. It uh, likely is NOT going to help my commitment phobia at all.) Is he the boulder sitting in my stream that my friend Brian was talking about? Hmmm. Not at this moment. But like the stream parable goes ... some rocks are moved over time and you don't even see the difference.

Still. All things happen for a reason. And people will tell you this and you'll roll your eyes, UNTIL those things happen to you and then you're like "Oh. Yeah. I see how that works now. Duh." The chain of events that day were set in place long before that day even started. Had I never made a commitment to reach out to new people, I wouldn't have been at Happy Hour the Friday before, talking to my friend Brian Smith about doing a hike on Sunday. Had I not gone on a hike with Brian on Sunday I wouldn't have wanted to cool off down by the pool...etc. etc. HATP and I have talked a lot about how both of us feel that there is a reason our paths have crossed...even if it's just to help each other through a time of transition in our lives. Or perhaps, he's just another step in a chain of events that will lead me to my "boulder," whoever that person is.

Until then, HATP has helped me begin to believe out there. Begin to believe that the world isn't as small as it feels and you just never know when a random person at the pool is going to ask if you'd like a mixed drink. I was beginning to lose hope and HATP has been instrumental in helping me find it again. I learned that even though it's scary to take a chance and scary to be vulnerable and scary to put yourself OUT THERE, it might just be worth it. Sure, there's going to be some "Dr. D's" and what not, and that will suck but... then there's going to be people like HATP that make it all worthwhile.

And you know, it doesn't hurt that HATP happens to be gorgeous. And kind. And funny. And kind of awesome. And he doesn't take himself too seriously. So, I've made an amazing new friend and have had some amazing adventures just in the last month with him and the others that I've reached out to. Our next adventure, will be on the top of a 14er in a little over a week. I'll be taking lots of pictures, and of course, I'll let you judge whether HATP deserves the "H" in his nickname for yourselves ;)

XOXO

-SMITC

My Worst Nightmare ... Taco Surprise

2010-08-02T16:05:00.006-07:00

After a night of celebrating with a friend's kickball team (on which I played as a sub for their last game) and a day of paying for it, I decided to "bench" myself last Friday night. I'm getting old, yo, and even though this is the LSOTS, I can't handle partying consecutive nights in a row.

Sersiously. I KNOW.

Actually, it was a number of things: I hadn't worked out all week. I hadn't cooked all week. I hadn't hung out with the dog all week. I hadn't done any laundry. I hadn't paid bills, cleaned all of the things that had landed on my dining room table as I threw them there on my way in or out of the door during the week.

Essentially, I was living my 21-year-old life all over again. But 29-year-old self needs a break. And some sanity.

So I stayed home, even though it seems EVERY ONE ELSE I KNEW WENT OUT. Don't you hate that? Because selfishly, you want the night you pick to stay in to be the ones your friends pick too. Don't they know they won't have any fun without you?

All I wanted was a nice evening at home with a nice meal. The self-install cable kit had come that afternoon (Cable! For the first time in YEARS, ya'll!) I had ingredients for a nice recipe from Food & Wine magazine and I was going to spend the evening watching a rented movie and getting laundry done while also cuddling with the dog.

So simple, right?

Honestly, I should've just gone out with my friends for how craptastic the night ended up being. Awaking at a friend's house with my cell phone dead and my car left downtown would've been a better alternative to Friday night.

First, it started when I arrived home from the gym. There was a guy standing on our condo steps, on the phone, talking frantically.

Never a good sign. People talking frantically on their phones sort of annoys me anyway, especially when they're on MY steps, you know? Because I share those steps with five other homeowners. So like, instead of the billion-to-one chances of something bad happening to you, you know that GUY STANDING ON MY STEPS TALKING FRANTICALLY INTO HIS PHONE means your chances just got up to 1 in 6.

Mother F'er.

I've told my friends how one of my biggest nightmares is to come home to flood waters gushing out of my windows because of a pipe-leak, or a water main break or whatever. I've seen this happen...it happened to some of my neighbors last year. They live on the third floor like I do and caused property damage in the condos two floors below them. I bet their Homeowner's Insurance policy dropped them shortly after, because I saw the stuff they hauled out of those condos. You think it's not possible to have flood damage when you live on the second floor? Because it IS.

"Do you live in ###?" he asked?

My heart sunk. 1 in 6 just became 1 in 1 chances of something terrible happening in my condo.

"Yeeeees." I hesitated. There was a small part of me that just wanted to bolt and be all "No! I don't know the creepazoid that lives up there!? I'm just her dog walker!?"

And the next works out of his mouth SERIOUSLY made me lightheaded.

"Cause you have a leak and you're causing damage in ### below you."

Are you freaking kidding me? I mean, really, Universe? Because I said the words OUT LOUD "My worst nightmare is if I have a leak and cause water damage to my neighbors" you just thought you'd TEST out that theory?

I raced inside and threw open the door, expecting to find puddles of water at my feet. Nay.

I scanned the sink, the kitchen, expecting to see water spraying. Nay.

I ran to the bathroom, wondering if the drippy leak on the faucet had finally exploded into gushing torrents of water all over the room. Nay.

(By the way, the guy from the HOA, who cornered me outside followed me through my place throughout all of this.) I was all "WTF? There's no leak!"

And then he pointed to my washer. My washer, who only months ago, treated me to a very similar heart attack when it started spewing water from a split hose behind it. Honestly, at the moment I was so pissed because I THOUGHT I HAD FIXED IT, and to know that my Ms. Fix-It skills would be in question because my fix did not hold was seriously depressing. I had been so proud of myself!

We pulled the washer back and alas, there was a small puddle behind it. Which in turn was causing water damage in the ceiling of my neighbor's laundry room. And I don't mean to be so "small puddle, whatevs!" but you have to understand: when they water hose broke behind my washer I had seriously an inch deep of water in that laundry room that I had to sop up with a boatload of towels.

I think I threw a regular sized towel down and had the water cleaned up in a few seconds. A minute, max.

I looked at the HOA guy. "Where is the leak coming from?" Because at the moment there was no water coming out of the dryer. He looked back at me. "I don't know. Maybe your drainage hose?" I was all "um....I fixed a hose a few months ago. ARE YOU TELLING ME THERE'S MORE HOSES CALLED OTHER THINGS?"

Ugh. Yes. Yes, there are more hoses behind your washer. Did you know that?

There's one that, when your washer is done with its business of washing, it empties into a magical pipe of some sort. In my setup, this magical pipe is n the wall. I have no access to said magical pipe, all I know is that there's a hose that empties into it.

Except, my washer likes to just..."come alive" every now and then. It's an older guy, so it's like he's having his last Hurrah! at the nursing home before he goes. I've heard the thing jumping around it the laundry room, and on several occasions, will open the laundry closet doors to find the washer in a different position than when I last left it in. Hey, you know? It's washing my clothes just fine. What do I care what it does in its spare time?

So this has never been an issue...until, apparently, he jumped so far away from the wall that the hose that drains into the magical pipe was JUST far enough away that it couldn't reach anymore. And instead of draining into a magical pipe, my washer drained into my magical neighbor's laundry room ceiling.

Oops.

So that's how my Friday night started. I spent another FOUR HOURS and FOUR PHONE calls with the cable company trying to get the cable "self installed" (such a joke) and then my lovely "Black bean and Chorizo Cavatappi" turned out to be nothing more than a glorified dish of "Mexican Goulash."

I promptly put that Mexican Goulash onto some tacos shells, added bean dip and cheese and gave UP. I put on the worst movie I've ever watched while NOT doing laundry and ate my Taco Surprise, all the while thinking "Yeah, this sucks, but at least I'll be able to get up bright and early tomorrow and enjoy the day, which I wouldn't have, had I gone out tonight."

Wrong. That's the thing about Taco Surprise...it still had surprises for me in store...even into the next morning.

In the clarity of the morning sun I realized my worst nightmare had nothing to do with the washer springing a leak. Nope. Not at all. Let's just say ... I'm glad it wasn't my toilet.

XOXO

-SMITC

Dating as a Single Mom ... Part 3

2010-07-30T11:11:00.012-07:00

The thing about dating is that it's hard to meet people. People are busy. And it's even harder with kids because to even get OUT and meet people means you have to get OUT first, which means paying for a babysitter, getting all dressed up and ready and then going out for a night with your girlfriends hoping to run into a decent candidate that you'd like to spend more time with over a dinner some night.

And then, say, after your fourth Red Bull vodka (because, let's not kid ourselves, you worked all day and then came home and made dinner for the kiddo, then got yourself ready and this is after only about 5 hours of sleep the night before, so you NEED a Red Bull) you realize that you're paying someone ELSE to watch your kid $10-$15 an hour so that you could what...come home disappointed at the end of the night?

Honestly, half the time I'd much rather park my bum in front of the TV with a good "family" movie that Cael and I agree on, a bowl of popcorn and a shared Sprite. One scenario costs me money and time away from my kid + a whole bunch of empty calories and the other scenario is a guaranteed good time.

Enter online dating.

Back in the day, it was totally unheard of to meet someone online. Taboo. I used to get arched eyebrows from friends and family when answering the question of where I met a recent date. "Well...we met on yaddayaddayadda.com" (No, I'm not going to advocate one site over another on my blog). I've tried these sites from time to time with little-to-no luck. I've had some really horrible dates, actually. So I'd all but sworn it off until Dr. Lisa asked about my plan for meeting people.Was I?

"Uh...sure." I said. (In my head I was all "uh....no.")

But it's the Last Summer of Twenty Something. And the Last Summer of Twenty Something would be wasted if I was sitting at home on a Friday night ... especially because this summer, while Cael is off visiting his dad I don't even have the "it's going to cost me a babysitter and time away from my kid excuse."

So I signed up and signed in. And with the help of a few good friends who egged me on, I started chatting a few people up. This is how it usually happens...you cast a wide net and say "Hi" to a few people and then you narrow it down from there depending on the nature of your communication. I kept my profile short and sweet and didn't mention my kiddo at all. After all, I've learned, with Dr. Lisa's help, about what I want and also, that it's important to be more protective of my son.

Once the field was narrowed down, one person stood out above the crowd. Let's call him "Dr. D." He isn't a doctor, but he is a physician's assistant for a non-profit entity serving the low-income (I know, right?! And he loves his job on top of it!) I'm thinking - "Perfect! We'll have lots to talk about with my background in advocacy for the low-income!" I set up a date for a night when I had class and told him I'd meet up after.

Unfortunately, that was the ONE class all semester that was destined to go ALL NIGHT LONG. Typically we get out of class an hour-or-so early, and I'd told him I'd meet him around 7:30. At 7:45 I had to tell him I'd be running late...he took it pretty well and we flirt-texted back and forth. Or, as my friend Chrissy likes to say, "we flexted!"

I arrived at the bar before he did (he was waiting for me to tell him I was on my way since he lives just around the corner) and grabbed a beer while watching the MLB All-Star game. I was nervous. It'd been a while since I'd done an online date meet-up. Did I look OK? Was I sweating? Would the whole 'kid thing' come up? In my head I was trying to conjure up what Dr. Lisa would do.

And then I heard a voice "Jill?"

And I knew. I just KNEW right then this was not going to go well.

The thing with Dr. D. is that he's decent looking and a cute teddy-bear of a guy. He's got great friends, a great place, a job he likes, is funny and intelligent. He is very close to what I'm looking for.

Except.

Gaaaahhh. Except. How do I say this?

Except...Dr. D. is um...very...feminine.

And I could hear it in his voice before I turned around. I could see it in his mannerisms. And I'm not saying he's a BAD person with this quality, it's just ... not what I'm looking for. I know what I want and I know that I need someone more masculine. And by that I do NOT mean gym-rat with bulging biceps and testosterone spewing out his ears but...someone who doesn't sound like my...mother. Who has smaller hands than me...and more nicely done nails than I. (I know I'm terrible. I understand. Hate me all you want. There will be people who read this and think I'm judgey...but I'm sorry...I just know the things I could get used to and the things I can't and I can't get used to someone saying "darling" to me in a way that's not affectionate at ALL and more um...like Countess Luann from the Real Housewives of New York City)

I just...know what I'm attracted to and that was NOT IT. And guess what...I'm allowed to say that!!! So Neener Neener!

But it's not as if I was all "Stop right there. This isn't going anywhere." The thing about dating that I've worked on with Dr. Lisa is that it doesn't have to be about meeting THE ONE. Dating has become this thing where everyone goes out and expects to find Mr. Right. So Dr. D was obviously not my guy...but that doesn't mean he's not a fun person to sit and have a beer and a pizza with. Plus, this would be practice on giving the whole "I have a kid" speech. It's about meeting people. I've had to re-work my way of thinking and really see dating as a way to meet people. That's it. You're not gonna knock it out of the park every time.

So I practiced my kid speech. And it went over just fine! Dr. D. was very cool with it...he was all "Hey, I'm 34. I expect that at some point people will have a divorce or a kid in their background...it's what happens."

I was a little annoyed at this, to tell the truth, because part of me wanted to be all "Ummmm...I'm not single because I have a KID. I'm single because I'm picky!" But let's be honest...he's kinda right. Meh.

Still though...it was practice. It was practice giving the speech that I dread...but it was a positive in that he wasn't all "Um, you take care of the bill, I'm leaving." (Which is what I had imagined in my mind a date might do when they hear the speech...so you know...bonus that I wasn't stuck with the bill.)

But then...Then.

Then things took a turn for the worse. It was as if me having a kid opened up a whole bevy of what he might've thought were totally appropriate questions. And he's right...

... IF I WERE SITTING IN AN EXAM ROOM WITH MY FEET UP IN STIRRUPS.

All of a sudden Dr. D. was playing Doctor and I'm in mid-bite of our California-style pizza, enjoying an especially tasty sun-drive tomato and he's all

"So what kind of birth control are you on?"

"Did you get an episiotomy when you delivered?"

"Did you have a c-section?"

"Are your boobs saggy now that you have a kid?"

What, what, and ... WHAT?

I'm an honest person and all and I've always said that I'll tell you anything you want to know, but let me just put it this way: THESE WERE THE DECENT QUESTIONS I FEEL THAT I CAN PUBLISH. The other ones were way worse.

I just sorta sat there...frozen. He just looked at me like I was an idiot for not answering, so I think I stammered out some sort of response that began with "ummm..." and ended with "I dunno." I didn't even have a chance for a witty comeback, I was so taken aback. These are questions that I would talk about with my best-girlfriends. Maybe. Over a glass of wine. And you're asking them on our first date? WTF?

As I sit there, shell-shocked a friend of his from college saunters up. They haven't seen each other in a while. "No problem," I'm thinking, "you guys go right on ahead and chit chat while I pick my JAW up off the floor. They talk about the dorms and how they used to watch 90210 and what's that....wait, WHAT DID I JUST HEAR? Dr. D used to dress up in women's clothing while WATCHING the show? And would wear skirts and makeup?

What? Really? I mean ... REALLY? Did I just hear that correctly?

"I totally thought you were gay!" She says...looking at both him and me. As if I were confirmation that this is indeed is not that case. And I'm all "Hey, don't look at me. I just met this guy tonight, I can not vouch for anything. I'm just gonna eat my pizza 'n beer."

It was then I realized that this was not going to end ... well. I mean...it did end, eventually ... but I'm afraid to say that Dr. D. didn't get anywhere past our first date. For reasons ... well... for reasons. We'll just put it that way :)

But I did learn how to put myself out there as ME. I met someone who knew me only as ME when he met me and not the Single Mom side of me. He found out about my son later and had no issues, and also understood why I wouldn't want to put it out there for all the online dating world to see. Baby Steps.

And so while the date wasn't uh, a success, learning how to use this new strategy was, and that's what I took from it ... and it's only getton better from there ;)

Doesn't it suck when I drag this whole thing out and you just want to get to the good stuff? I know, I know, I KNOW. I've been keeping you hanging on this one...but it was important that I write about and process each step of the way to help me analyze everything that has happened this summer...this Last Summer of Twenty Something.

Something tells me, it's going to be a summer I'll never forget.

I promise... the final Part 4 in my series of Dating as a Single Mom ... next week :) Have a great and safe weekend until then, ya'll!

XOXO

-SMITC

Oral Final

2010-07-27T09:01:00.007-07:00

Is it just me, or does "Oral Final" sound weird to anyone else?

Every time I tell people I have an "oral final" tonight they give me THAT look and I KNOW they are thinking the same thing I'm thinking.

But for some reason, my professor keeps calling it that and it's making me giggle every time.

So anyway, tonight I have an "oral final" where I have to answer questions in front of the class about topics of our choice from the readings. All of us in the class (all 10 of us) were to choose 10 questions from our book's review section and be responsible for answering those 10, if we were called upon to do so. The thing about it is...you might start off answering a question, but then it's supposed to go into a class discussion and debate...so eventually everyone needs to participate in the answering of any question that is asked.

(Dumb, dumb, dumb. If you ask me, I'd rather write a paper. But whatever.)

Well...we're not stupid. I mean, we are in GRAD school after all. So, together as a class, we got together and decided that instead of each person selecting 10 questions to be responsible for (that we would all eventually have to chime in on anyway) we would all select the same 10 questions, and therefore, instead of studying super hard for YOUR 10 questions, plus the questions anyone else might also answer, we would only have study for 10 questions total.

Brilliant, no?

I mean, it's not cheating, necessarily. In fact, if you ask me, it's an excellent and efficient strategy ... and I am a BIG fan of efficiency.

So then we divided it up even further. Each person would select one question and write out an answer for it, and then pass it around the group. That way, you were only responsible for coming up with and studying really hard for one answer, out of the 10 questions and not studying super hard for all 10. Now, I know what you're going to say...this is gaming the system a little bit. Admittedly...maybe so. But I was up late last night studying for the question I volunteered to take on and I was reading other people's answers to their questions in preparation for this "oral final" tonight too. It's not as if we're not studying at all...I still have to take all that information and spit it back out in discussion with my own spin on it.

I'm pretty sure the prof. has picked up on our little system here. I mean, we were all supposed to send in the "10 Questions" we each wanted to be responsible for, and he got an e-mail from each and every one of us with the EXACT same questions chosen.

Kiiiinda obvious. Yet he hasn't put a stop to it.

But here's the thing. Tonight, during our "oral final" we have a group of Korean students visiting our class to understand more about American dynamics in the classroom. Our professor has warned us that we need to make him look good, have a lively discussion during our "oral final" and be prepared.

So essentially, we're not cheating at all. We're doing him a solid, if you ask me. In the end, with our excellent coordinated approach is going to make him look like Professor of the YEAR.

Not cheating. Doing him a FAVOR is more like it.

And doing it orally ;)

XOXO

-SMITC

Dating as a Single Mom ... Part 2

2010-07-23T09:52:00.011-07:00

So as I alluded to, a few weeks ago I was sitting on Dr. Lisa's couch telling her that even IF I got over my commitment-phobia phase with her well-thought-out explanation of why I was so relationship-immune, I'd still have to deal with the fact that there are lots and lots of hurdles to dating as a single mom.

First and foremost: Men not wanting to date YOU.

A lot of times it feels that the moment guys hear "I have a kid" a string of thoughts run through their brains and before I know it they've thought of a million reasons why to stop talking to me.Honestly, it's become a pretty good tool for me to whip out of my handbag when I want a guy to leave me alone. He sidles up to the bar, gives me a look, introduces himself. I look deeply into his eyes, give him a sly smile and say "Hi! My name is Jill. I'm Cael's mom."

Works every time.

I've mentioned the beliefs I think a lot of guys have about dating with women with children before and in some cases, sure, maybe the stereotype is warranted. Maybe single moms do come with a lot of baggage. Maybe some of them are looking for financial support. Maybe they are shopping for a dad for their kid. I dunno...single moms out there... are YOU? Are you perpetuating these stereotypes?

That's what I thought. Because I know lots of single moms and none of them are ANY of these. That's the thing about stereotypes...it's pretty hurtful when someone just assumes something about you. I've dealt with this not only in the people I've dated, but also with the people around THEM in their lives and well...it sucks.

No, it doesn't suck, it freak'n BLOWS. I've worked my ASS off to be where I am and it's like a kick in the teeth when someone hears one thing about you and assume they know the rest.

(Here's the part where I have to choke back tears as I blog because yeah...that hurt sits pretty close to the surface. I've never experienced any form of racism and won't compare the two...but I have been judged, assumed and stereotyped all from people who knew NOTHING about me, nor were willing to learn and it...hurts, damnit.)

I once had a boyfriend who said a friend of his cautioned against dating me because "You'll always be #2 to her. Her kid is her priority." (Which, for the record, is totally the wrong way to look at it.) I also dated a person whose family couldn't get past me being an unwed mother and no matter WHAT I did, they could not see those biases. In both cases, the boyfriend took the advice of others and ... it's part of the reason why we're not together today, among other things.

And so when I explained this to Dr. Lisa...tears falling into my lap and onto her couch, I think I finally eeeped out what I've been feeling, deep down inside, for so long.

"I just want... I just want to be ... to be me!"

What I mean is ... I just want to meet someone and have them see me, for who I am. Yes, being a mom is part of who I am, a HUGE part, but I was a person for 22 years before I took on that position. That's 22 years of life lessons, memories, hardships and triumphs that I went through FIRST before I added mom to the list. And I know, I KNOW, that I might create some controversy here but ... I also have a life outside of my son. I know that everyone defines the role that parenting takes in their lives differently, but for me it's important and necessary that I have separate passions, drives, motivations and dreams aside from being a parent.

I know, right? Worst mom ever, right over here. Child Protective Services is gonna come knocking down my door any minute...but note that you'll see "for me" several times throughout this blog. I don't pretend to have all the answers for anyone else but me. This, this little blog right here is about telling you what works for me. And if you don't agree...hey, it's cool! But I ask that you give me the respect of knowing myself the best and knowing what's right...for me.

(You think that I haven't been criticized for going to school and having to sacrifice time with my son because I'm furthering my education? Or for trying to date? Ummm....Yeah. I have been. By other moms. Hey moms, can we just stop criticizing each other and agree that there are MANY different kinds of moms in the world and that the good ones make it work for them and their children and families in whatever way they need to, but that same formula isn't going to work for everyone? Can we just agree to stop JUDGING each other?)

I'm not going to harp on that too much...because it's a blog post in-and-of-itself entirely.

The thing is...the parenting thing? I kind of hoard it a little bit. As I've said before, Cael has two parents and we seem to be doing OK ... so I'm not jumping at the chance to let anyone else into that side of my life. And so, from the comfort of Lisa's couch I finally said the words that have been rattling around inside my brain and my heart for some time now.

"I want ... I want someone who loves and connects with ME, supports me as a parent and respects my son. That's it."

It was like... a revelation, yo. I'm not asking someone to complete our family portrait. I'm not asking someone to take over discipline in my house. I'm not asking someone to step in as a parent as soon as he crosses the threshold. I'm asking someone to be there to emotionally support ME as a person who parents a child. That's all I want for me.

Because as a single parent you hear all of these things about what you SHOULD want. "You should want a guy who accepts you and your child as a package and if he doesn't want both, don't waste your time on him." or "You should want a guy who is great with children and loves kids." or "You should want someone who is willing to support you and your child and take on the father role."

I know I should, everybody, and I thank you for all of your advice over the years because I know it was well-intentioned but ... I just... don't. I don't necessarily NOT want those things...it's just that I know that when it comes down to relationships and people, things aren't always so black and white. It's very easy for single and married friends alike to give their single-mom friend advice on what she SHOULD want. But at the end of the day ... I just want someone I can connect with for ME and who knows ME. I want that person to respect my son, obviously, but that person isn't an instant dad or caretaker. I don't need someone to come in and take over, take on parenting or even feel like they know how to be a good parent. Because Lord KNOWS I had no CLUE at 23. I've learned along the way and I'm still learning. But I've done a pretty good job and I have an awesome kid...I don't feel like I need someone to help in that department.

You know what I need for me? Someone to SHARE this amazing life with. Someone who I can have a conversation with at the end of the day that doesn't involve words like "Legos" or "Juicebox" or "Eat your vegetables." Someone who makes me laugh, someone who will climb mountains with me (both metaphorically and literally) someone who wants to do all the things I do now solo...but do them together, whatever they may be. That's all I want right now. Sure, eventually I want the whole marriage thing ... but really, right now I just want someone to share the fun of life with. That's it.

Simply put - that person is partner, a confidant, a lover, a best friend and someone who is alongside of me because of our shared connection ... not because I think that person will be great at taking on the father role for my kid. Essentially - I want what every girl with or without children wants - I want someone to make ME feel special.

Why, you ask, am I leaving my son out of this equation? Why wouldn't I also want someone who makes Cael feel special too?

Of course! Eventually I want that person to know that being with me means also respecting my son.I want that person to have a relationship with my son. I want my son to respect that person.

But not right away. And this is the crucial mistake I've made in the past.

I thought it was absolutely important to just put everything out there and be open and honest about who I am, including Cael. But here I was, laying it all out for everyone and forgetting that I wasn't doing one the most important parts of my job as a mom: I wasn't protecting him. I was pushing him out onto the world's stage when the irony is, he is one of the most sacred parts of my life. It's not as if I've gone on dates and brought him along or introduced him to every guy I've made eyes at. But I HAVE given away far too many details about him to people that I should've been more careful with.

He deserves a mom who sets some boundaries around him to keep him safe.

And so, for both reasons, I came to what I call The Non-Disclosure Conclusion: When I'm meeting new people and want to get to know them and them me, I do not NEED to disclose that I have a child.

Like any good therapist would, when I mulled this idea over, Lisa asked, "What would that mean for you?"

It would mean that I could get to know someone and they can get to know me and find out more about me little by little. Just like how you don't tell people that you have a secret fascination with lochs or that you devour every ounce of celebrity gossip you come upon. (Not that...either of these things apply to me. Ahem.) You know, just...things that sound weird when you say them at the bar. And just for a little bit, I can take off the Super Mom cape and walk around as my version of Clark Kent. And just be ... Me. And I can fall in love with someone for the right reasons - because they have fallen in love with me too...not just because they're good with kids and are willing to accept the whole package at the moment we meet.

It doesn't mean I'm ashamed of my son in any way. It doesn't mean I'm hiding a dark and dirty little secret. It simply means that, huzzah! I've learned how to create boundaries. Me, the most open and honest person I know ACTUALLY does have boundaries!

The more I tossed the idea around, the more I liked it. It felt ... right for me. It felt like a load had been taken off my shoulders. Not only was I working through the reasons why I was a commitment-phobe, but I was also working through my approach to dating if and when I felt ready to do it. It felt like I'd been waiting for someone to give me permission to just be ME after all these years of following some secret Single Mom rulebook that I thought I was supposed abide by. I was all "HI!!!! This is me and if you don't like it, OK, Byeeee!" But where has that gotten me?

(See - this is the kicker for anyone who is all "Hmmm...I don't know about this." The thing is ... maybe I'm not right. Maybe this isn't the way to go. BUT, I've got to try something different because well, I'm still single, aren't I? Something isn't working with what I'm doing NOW. That could also be because I freak out if a guy shows any attention to me and label him as "Darren: Clingy!" in the contacts list in my phone, buuuut...I also think it's how I'm presenting myself upon meeting people as well.)

I chatted with friends and family about the idea and almost everyone was in support. I read lots and lots of blogs about single moms, like me, trying to answer this question for themselves. One friend even compared the idea to being a millionaire (which I have to admit, is a very nice comparison to make.) Essentially, if I had millions of dollars, would I tell someone that on a first date if I'm wanting them to get to know Me for ME and not my money? Not likely. I'd wait to see first if that person had a connection with me on the basis of just two people, looking for love. Them finding out I have a million dollars on top of it is kind of a cherry on top.

(Hear that Cael? I just compared you to a million dollars. Don't ever read mom's blog one day and think I was trying to sweep you under the rug. That is not the point I'm making here.)

And I realized we all have things that we don't spell out for people we've just met over cocktails. We all have someTHING...that baggage of your past, the divorce you're afraid to tell people about, that you don't own a car or drive, that you live with your parents...etc.

Maybe not comparable to adding a child to the mix, but still. Why I'd been following this rule of "tell everyone everything and be honest!" I have no idea, because the more I looked around, the more I realized that no one was requiring this of me (No one!) and it's actually, quite common NOT to.

Now, before you get all "don't you think you're deceiving people when you don't tell them?" let me say this: It's not as if I intended to walk down the aisle and turn to my future husband-to-be and be all "oh yeah, see that ring-bearer up at the altar? He's my kid." We're talking...information that doesn't have to be divulged until maybe after a first date or so. And even then...it's up to me to determine how I say it and how much I say.

Which is all easy to talk about in theory in front of your friends or on your therapist's couch. What is harder to do, as I found out, is put it into practice. But - I did! And it was one of the most positive experiences in the dating world I've had yet....

But for that, you'll have to hang in there for Part 3. To be continued!!!

XOXO

-SMITC

Por Favor

2010-07-21T14:09:00.005-07:00

I just wanted to say...

....That yes. Another dating post is coming soon. Promise!

But first I have a final paper due for my summer class tomorrow. And a briefing on my Capstone project (SO I CAN GRADUATE) due Friday. And an oral final in my class next Tuesday that I'm preparing for. Oh, and I'm also putting my kid on a plane this Saturday and he's going to fly ALL BY HIMSELF and I'm going to just need a moment to have a brief mental breakdown at the airport. Mmmm k?

On top of THAT, I'm also contemplating bangs and it's taking up a lot of my freak'n time perusing lots and lots of google images of celebrities and their long hairstyles and what type of bangs I might want. I haven't had bangs since like, the 7th grade because my mom would WARN me that I'd regret it, and then I WOULD and then I'd have to admit that she was right and when you're in the 7th grade, no kid wants to admit their parent is right. So thanks mom, for that.

So just....can you wait? For just a few days? Pretty please? Por favor!? Because what I have to say about dating as a single mom is worth waiting for. I promise.

If I were a more cool or popular blogger I'd invite someone to blog for me in my absence, but I'm not so...you just get dead air over here. My apologies.

XOXO

-SMITC

P.S. Here's my side swoopy bangs right now. Should I go for the full monty, or just keep them the way they are? If you help me make this decision you'll get a new blog out of it sooner ;)

Dating as a Single Mom ... Part 1

2010-07-16T10:55:00.006-07:00

Confession:

When I get involved/start dating/go out on ONE DATE with a person, I don't see a future with them.

I just don't. I see one of two things likely to occur:

--They will be WAY into me and I'll have to tell them that I, unfortunately, am not into them, and therefore break their little heart.

--I will be WAY into them and then they, unfortunately, will have to tell me they are not into me, and therefore break my little heart.

In my mind, that's how relationships go. One of two ways. So what's the point, right? Enter my commitment-phobia from stage left.

It's why I've avoided them. I hate having to give people bad news/being the bad guy/disappointing people and letting them down. And guess what? I, like every other normal girl, HATE having my heart-broken. It's not fun!

But then, after ALL that avoiding and making life AWESOME in the last year, I've realized:

This is so great, I want to share it with someone!

You see...I worked through the part of me that felt like she wasn't whole because I wasn't with another person. I worked through ALL of the expectations I felt family and friends had for me, and that I thought I was disappointing them by not being in a relationship. I worked through how I felt about myself and took care of my body better. I worked through feeling like I was missing out on things because I didn't have a partner to do them with. I just ... did them by myself or found other people.

I worked through it ALL in round one of therapy with Dr. Lisa. I got to a point where I really, really loved my life and it just hit me, one night, when I was driving home on a Sunday night after a venture with friends. The sun was setting over the mountains and I was driving through Denver, which I LOVE, but out to the West to this little home that I own on the outskirts of town that I LOVE. I was smiling and thinking about how much fun I'd had over the weekend and how much I loved my friends and then ... I had this realization. I wanted to be driving home to somebody. Or, at least, I wanted to be driving home WITH somebody. I wanted to take all the things I love about life and me and the WORLD and give them to someone and say "Here! This is me and I want to share it with YOU and I want you to Share what you love with ME!"

So. I knew what I wanted. And when Jill knows what she wants, she goes about getting it. This is one of the most important things to know about me. If I say I'm going to do it...I will.

But I also knew that I had these fears stamped on my brain which has really kept me from diving in head first. I don't like disappointing people and I don't like being disappointed.

And so, after all the success with Dr. Lisa the first time, I decided to sign myself up for her services again. I needed someone to help me reason through these fears that was coming from a completely objective place. I love my girlfriends, to DEATH. I do! But it seemed like everywhere I turned I was getting conflicting advice: "You'll find someone when you least expect it!" or "You need to put it out into the universe that this is what you want!" or "You need to compromise. There is no perfect man." or "Don't settle!" etc. etc.

I needed the answer to come from within and Dr. Lisa was familiar with how my crazy brain works. So a few weeks later I was sitting on her couch when she asked "Why do you think you feel this way?"

I don't know.

Yeah, I think that's what I said in response the first time she asked that question. Me = lame. Because the answer was staring me straight in the face.

Let's look back at my dating history kids. I've been in a relationship for the last 7 years with someone on and off. And that pretty much ended with a broken heart.

And the before THAT I called off a wedding and felt like everyone hated me. I was the bad guy. I disappointed a whole bunch of people and let people down.

Hmmmm... I dunno, Dr. Lisa said, could THAT have something to do with it?

You had these two big things in your life...basically, the two relationships you've had in your adulthood, and they've left a pretty big impact. You see things as being either one or the other and no in between. But what if there IS an in-between? What if there is a relationship that you know...does the whole working out thing in the end?

Interesting. Hmmmm. I pondered this.

Because it's not as if I haven't heard this a MILLION times from my girlfriends. I have, of course, been told that of COURSE I WILL find someone. I countered them with "that's not the problem. The problem is them liking me and me liking them. I can find tons of someones. But I just want to find ONE."

But it seems as if I was answering the question of "them liking me and me liking them" without even trying, because I was SOOOO convinced that one of us was not going to like the other and therefore it would result in big fat DISAPPOINTMENT for someone and so what"s the point?

So, Dr. Lisa basically sat me down and said "Look. This is what you want? You want to find someone to share your life with? Well, you can't win if you don't play. So...your choice. You can continue to believe that someone will end up going home a loser, OR you can just entertain the idea that there is a 'Door #3' out there and behind THAT door is a relationship that brings you joy."

Hmmmm.

"But, but but!" I protested ... it's not that easy to just go out and meet people. I'm a single mom! No ONE wants the single mom. Men FEAR the single mom. And so they write me off and just assume I'm

a) looking for a dad for my kid. (Nope. He has one. A pretty decent dad and doesn't need another. What I DO need is someone who supports me as a parent, is interested in a relationship with me and respects my child. No one asked you to become stand-in-dad. Mmmm k?)

b) looking for someone to support me financially. (Nope, wrong again. I own my own home, have a full time job, go to school and am ... cross your fingers ... hoping to buy my own brand new car this fall. I'm doing pretty well, thankyouverymuch!)

c) looking to have more kids RIGHT AWAY because I want to continue my family. (And Nope. I don't even know if I want more children, but I do know that I'm just about to finish my degree and um, let's just not do a repeat of "now I have my degree but I'm 9 months pregnant so no one wants to hire me!" Yeah, that wasn't fun the first time around.)

So, Dr. Lisa, What say you about THAT?! Just because you fixed my crazy brain does not mean you've fixed the MOUNTAIN standing in front of the single mom when she's trying to date. Because that part? Yeah, that part sucks.

Well. Sure enough, she coached me into a "plan" for dating as a single mom in a way that freed me from the burdens of the judgement, the assumptions, the STIGMA. Because did I mention Dr. Lisa is AWESOME?

But that, my friends, is a story that will have to be continued. In the last three weeks I have put the said "plan" into effect and I will indulge you in all of the wonderful little details next week :)

Until then, have a GREAT and safe weekend. Happy Friday!

XOXO

-SMITC

Summer Vacation

2010-07-14T10:07:00.007-07:00

Hey kids!

Has it really been like, 14 days since I last wrote a blog post? TWO WEEKS?

I hadn't realized it had been that long.

Fear not, I'm still alive. In fact, any time I'm not blogging, the most likely reason is because I'm too busy LIVING a life that I would love to have the time to blog about. Sorry blogging, you're just down on the list of the things I HAVE to do.

But there's so many stories and things to tell in the last few weeks! I'll see if I can run through them quickly. In the last few weeks I:

-took a mini vacay back to NE for 5 days.
-flew back to Denver with about 600 lbs. of luggage, Cael AND the dog - a first! (flying with the dog, that is.)
-met up with HATP a couple of times. ...
-went on a date with another dude...that uh...did not go so well.
-turned down a date! This is one of my biggest fears. I HATE having to tell people "I'm just not that into you." I hate it. But it actually didn't go so bad at all.
-escorted my son to an overnight cub scout camp in the mountains. Also - no cell phone coverage! It killed me for the first couple of hours, but then was very fun to unplug for a bit.
-set up meetings with professors and advisers so I can meet my goal of having my Capstone project figured out for this fall.
-wrote papers! went to class! (read: boring, boring, boring.)
-joined a new gal pal at her Downtown Denver bachelorette party.
-had a pool party of my own. Hung out with friends. Enjoyed good times.

Whew. That's the short list. There's lots of other stuff in there but mostly...I took some time to go on vacay and then adjust back to being in Denver. It's been a good last couple of weeks, all in all.

I have not, uh, as you can see, worked out, almost at ALL in the last two weeks. Trying to get back into the swing of things. When Cael was gone I ate a lot less which sorta evened things out, but now that I'm back to making three square meals a day I'm going to have to fit exercise in. Exercise in the summer? Yeah, no thanks. But it's a must.

Coming soon is a blog post I've been putting off for a while ... one describing what kinds of stuff I talk with Dr. Lisa about and how it has affected the last two weeks. If you read between the lines you can see that I have some issues with dating that I'm working through ... the last few weeks have also been about completing the "homework" I was given in my last session. I do plan on coming clean about these things, because I pride myself about being an open book. You'll get to dive right into this crazy little brain of mine.

Soon. I promise!

XOXO

-SMITC

FOTR ! Also known as "The Best Day Ever!"

2010-07-02T13:06:00.001-07:00

This week seems to be a crash course in "All the things you should do in Denver and the surrounding areas." Saturday was hiking, Sunday was City Park Jazz and Wednesday was a wonderful outing at a venue familiar to many a Denverite: Red Rocks.

Red Rocks is an amazing place to see your favorite band because of its natural acoustics, but it is also where thousands of people gather on one night a week throughout the summer to see their favorite movies. Also known as: Film on the Rocks (FOTR)

I went to FOTR for the first time with Cael to see Top Gun. We had to leave a little early to avoid traffic and because it was WAY past his bedtime...but he and I both enjoyed our little 'date.' There's always those things that sound fun, but then you worry about parking and putting up with the crowds and the expense and so you don't end up doing it. FOTR is not like that. Cael and I parked easily, found a spot just find, brought in our snacks and had a great evening together at a minimal cost. Unfortunately, with Tuesday and Thursday night class this summer and most FOTR movies being shown on Tuesdays, I've had to miss out on it.

Until now.

When I saw that Ferris Bueller was being shown on a Wednesday, I put a plan into action. I took a census among my friends of who would want to go and got a group together. A group of about 10 of us met up for the movie. Parking wasn't terrible and we packed our own uh...beverages and snacks ;). We managed to all find seats together and settle in to enjoy the show.

Jess and Mel at the tailgate

And that's when someone pointed out that the Colorado Governor was sitting just feet away from us. I peered the crowd. Indeed he was! He was getting up to make his way to get refreshments (or something...I'm assuming here) and I leapt into action. I wasn't going to miss my chance to meet the Gov! I got out of my seat and bounded down the stairs so I could grab him in time for a photo op. If you've ever "Run the Rocks" you also know that running the stairs at Red Rocks isn't that easy, and my poor flip flops suffered the consequences. While running, I totally tripped on a "flop" and broke it apart. But no matter. I was on a mission!

I caught up with the gov, as Longmont friend Mel Sidwell caught up with me. I handed her the camera and introduced myself to him, shook his hand and told him I was a Public Administration student (I don't know WHY I told him that...I just did. I felt like "Hey, I'm sorry to bother you when you're just trying to enjoy a movie, but I mean, at least I'm a halfway intelligent human being and all, right?" (as he stares at my broken flip flop.)

Either way, the Gov was very nice about having his picture taken. In fact his wife took the picture of the two of us, while my Mel took on one on my camera phone. As you can see...I'm seriously grinning from ear to ear.

Me and the Gov!

Nice Jill. Looking reeeeeaaal hot.

Whatevs. I got a pic with the governor! (Thanks Mel Sidwell!)

The rest of the movie was great. It was nice to hang out with friends on a Wednesday night, drink uh, beverages, and dance in our seats to "Twist and Shout." Lately, I've been having doubts about living in Colorado. I love it here. I love to ski, hike and I love my friends. I love the things you get to do here that you can't do anywhere else (or at least, not in Nebraska). But! (but!) I miss my family dearly, especially my niece who is turning two this weekend. They were such a big part of Cael's life before we moved and still are - but from a distance. At one time...that was good for all of us. But now my family is a huge part of my life and it's very hard to be away.

Hence, the week long vacation I'm taking next weekend in Nebraska.

But on Wednesday night I took a moment to look around and really be "present" in the moment. I was overlooking a great city and was with great friends doing something that only Denver offers. I sat back and looked around and thought "THIS is the reason I live here. This moment right here."

It's hard to miss family...but it'd be even harder to leave all of these great friends and THINGS here in Denver too. For now, I've put the question of moving in the back of my mind. I live here because on any given night in Denver there's something to do...on your own or with friends ... or with the Governor!

Mom-to-be Kelly!

Jess and I as the movie is about to begin

Denver in the background

Film on the Rocks!

XOXO

-SMITC

And by "Win" I Mean...

2010-06-29T21:45:00.004-07:00

... I have a date!
Boo yah.

XOXO

-SMITC

The Solo Life

2010-06-28T23:41:00.003-07:00

So much has happened since I dropped Cael off in Nebraska last weekend. It's been a crazy week and has kept me from posting frequently. First things first - I've been in contact with Cael every day and he's been having a great time with his dad, his half-sister and his Grandma Pat. He's been in good hands and even got to see Grandma Connie and Grandpa Brad this weekend as well at a Conner Family celebration for all the June birthdays (with a Hawaiian theme.)

(I got this text from my mom and it about broke my heart - he's so cute and I'm missing out!)

Louie the dog is also on vacation at Grandma Connie's for the next week as well. He stayed there while I returned to CO because without the boy around, our house wouldn't be too much fun for him (plus, I have class two nights a week. The doggie would be bored!)

According to my mom, he's had fun chasing lightning bugs in the backyard and getting his paws dirty while Grandma Connie mows.

Although I moped around for a good part of the week, I made dinner for girlfriends on Wednesday night.

Then we did a hike on Green Mountain.

I finished a paper this week as well which left the weekend free for a Friday night Happy Hour with friends at the Fainting Goat in Denver.

(L to R: Laurie, Jess, me, Jenn and Chrissy)

Saturday morning I did a grueling trail hike on Green Mountain (I thought it would be easier. It's not.)
After a great meeting with Lisa, who is an amazing life-coach, I met up with friends and watched U.S. Soccer at a little bar around the corner from Chrissy's house called The Spot.

And it really is The Spot for everything. For U.S. Soccer watching, for having drinks with friends and ... meeting new ones. Encouraged by Lisa, I introduced myself to a lone guy at the end of the bar watching the game. Well...INTRODUCED is probably a little bit of a strong word. Thanks to the help of my friends and a tipsy bartender, I was sort of forced to introduce myself to him. But (but!) of all people ... he turned out to be a friend of a friend and shares the same background in Public Administration as I. Too cool! Turns out, he could give me the hookup when it comes to trying to get some experience in the area my degree is in.

I met up with friend Adam (the friend of a friend from above) for drinks Saturday night at Prime Bar on 16th Street in Denver. I don't know about you but, whenever I visited a big city as a kid, I always wondered WHO the people were walking around in the city, meeting others for dinner or drinks. Who were the kind of people that just had the luxury of living in a city and doing that?

When I walked to Prime to meet Adam in downtown Denver on Saturday night, I pinched myself and realized that I AM one of those persons. I am one of those person who has a fabulous life and has fabulous friends. The skyscrapers rose up around me the lights twinkled from top story windows like stars. It doesn't quite beat a Nebraska sunset, but it is cool to be able to appreciate both.

Sunday morning found me on a hike in Eldorado Canyon State Park with my realtor-turned friend (or maybe it was the other way around?) Brian Smith.

He's an excellent realtor in Denver, in case you're looking, and an even better friend. A great conversation and great, quick getaway from Denver (only 20 min. away!)

Here's where it gets interesting.
Shortly after the hike I decided to venture down to the pool at my condo complex. I just needed to take advantage of a free Sunday to get in a tan even though I had only minutes before I was to meet friends at Jazz in the Park. Still, having a hard time doing nothing now that Cael's not home, I needed to do SOMETHING with the extra time. I put on the suit, grabbed the baby oil and a towel and headed down to the pool.

There were two guys at the pool: an older gentlemen and a younger guy. Both were talking amongst themselves and so I busied myself setting up my lounge chair. I had no makeup on, hadn't showered after the hike and am generally used to just going about my own things and not making chit-chat. BUT, when the younger guy got up to pour the two of them more drinks, he randomly asked if I would like one also.

Would I like a vodka-lemonade while I lounged by the pool? Why yes, yes I would.

After they gave me my drink we started chatting. They were new to Denver after relocating from Michigan and both were living in the company-paid for condo while they got acclimated and found their own places. They'd been here since April and the older dude was his boss. As it neared time for me to leave to hit up the park with friends, I casually tossed out an invite that they join us. I remembered what it's like to be new in town and not know anyone and it took me almost three months to realize the awesomeness that is City Park Jazz. Why not? I figured, even if they weren't my type (which I wasn't really sure after talking to them out of the corner of my semi-closed eyes while tanning) maybe some of my friends would be interested? Honestly? I was freaking out a bit ... more on that in a future blog post :) But we exchanged info and I took off to get ready.

As I was headed to the park I was nervous - what if my friends weren't cool with me bringing new people to the group? I'd talked to these guys for like...a half hour...what if it turned out that they weren't really all that cool? I didn't know much about these two...what if they were big jerks and super rude? Anxiety rose and I hesitated in pushing the invite anymore just as they texted that they were headed to the park to meet up.

(our group at the park)

Here's where the old me would've made up some excuse and told them not to come. Here's where the old me wouldn't have taken a chance and would've just left them to themselves and let them figure it out on their own. Here's where the old me would have just ASSUMED the worst.

So I took a deep breath, explained to my friends the sitch and hoped for the best.

It turns out...what I hadn't noticed earlier at the pool was that younger dude was very good looking. Or, at least, my friends confirmed after they showed up. His boss is also very nice, but ended up leaving just as we started up a pick-up game of kick ball int he park. They both fell right into step with all of my friends and had a great time. Because his boss left, he asked if he could have a ride back to our complex (we seriously live a building apart) and I agreed. No prob.
The two of them thanked me and my friends profusely for inviting them to City Park (they'd never even been to City Park!) and asking us to join my friends and I in our Sunday-night, beer-drinking/pick-up game-playing ritual. My friends anxiously texted me on the way home to hear what became of our drive back to our neck of the woods.

I wish I could tell you there were some salacious details but actually...it was nice. It was friendly. And honestly, I think I did ENOUGH this weekend in talking to new and random people, keeping it at a friend level is just fine with me. Who knows if we'll hang out again - though we all invited them to join us at Wednesday's Film on the Rocks outing.

Either way, I did something this weekend I never do - TWICE! - I took a chance on meeting people and although in my head, I assumed the worst, I met two new people who could at least turn out to be good friends or contacts when needing say ... or a leaky faucet fixed (I told the two guys at the pool about my leaky bathtub faucet and they volunteered to help.)

So I'm going to put this weekend in the win column and we'll see where that win takes me :)

XOXO

-SMITC

Seven Years

2010-06-20T22:52:00.011-07:00

Dear Cael,

Today, you turned seven years old and I can not tell you how proud I am of you. Seven years ago you came into the world and changed everybody's lives around you forever and for the better. At that time I couldn't even see far enough into the future to imagine this day. All I knew was that you were this tiny little peanut of a person and it was my job to love and take care of you, teach you the ways of the world and raise you to be the best you could be. What I didn't realize is that you would do the same for me in so many ways.

You are precocious and witty, sensitive and brave, resilient and independent. I'm so proud to be your mom! You see the world in such an optimistic light and believe the best in everyone. At seven years old your purity of heart, faith and innocence is a constant reminder that their is GOOD in this world, Cael, and I feel very lucky to be reminded of this every morning I wake up and see your smile. Your capacity for love, fairness and forgiveness constantly amazes me and you've taught me how to be a better person because of it. You have something special inside of you, Cael, and I pray that the world never takes away the light that you have to share with all of us.

You are, as many people have commented about you, an 'old soul' and yet, at the same time, you still sleep with your blankie each night, and a stuffed animal tucked under your arm. In this last year, you impressed me by holding your head up high and walking with no fear onto an airplane ALL BY YOURSELF, and yet just the other day, you fell asleep on my lap in church, while I stroked your hair. You still love to cuddle and curl up next to me when you're tired, but you no longer appreciate me hugging you in front of all your friends at school. (And just so you know, I understand. It's tough for ol' mom, but I get it.) Cael, I can see that you're quietly making the transition from my little child into a full-grown BOY and it's both awe-inspiring and terrifying to watch you do it, but you are learning to dodge disaster and handle it with grace along the way.

At seven years old you love Legos and can understand every step-by-step instruction in the manual and put together an airplane in no-time flat (so sorry for that one time I tried to help and ended up putting the pieces on backwards ... I now know that I should just let you do it and it will take less time!) You are just now starting to read chapter books and I've seen you slip one into your backpack when you think I'm not looking. (For the record - I'm so excited that you love to read!) You play a mean game of "freeze-dance tag" and explained all the technical rules to me just the other night. According to you, if you're going to play "freeze-dance tag, one should choose the "robot" or "man in an invisible box" moves, because these are easier to stop and start, and you'll win every time if you do these. (This - this strategy and understanding of how to do things in an efficient manner, you get from me.) You impressed your teachers this year with your math skills, so much that often when the class wasn't understanding a concept, they asked you to explain it to the class in "kid speak" because they knew you understood and could explain it better. You were doing multiplication tables in the 1st grade and they had to slow you down! (This - this understanding of anything related to math? You get that from your father. DEFINITELY not me.)

You're also a very talented artist who loves to draw his own mazes. You are a blossoming soccer player and an excellent hiking partner. You love to swim in the summer and ski in the winter and I think this might be the year that you surpass your mama on the slopes. I'm constantly amazed by your ability to take a fall in the snow and get right back up again and keep on skiing. You always keep on trying! THIS says more about you, Cael, than anything else. No matter what - you never give up. I know that there are bound to be mistakes and bumps along the way, buddy, but at seven years old you've already learned the key to making it through the tough stuff. This will serve you well later on in life. Never, ever give up on not giving up!

And I promise, as your mother, I will never give up on you. Just like seven years ago, I do not know what the next seven years will look like. (Gulp! - You'll be 14!!!) But I do know that it's still my job to love and take care of you, teach you the ways of the world and raise you to be the best you can be. I have been blessed by having you in my life, Cael. I was given the gift of being your mom and having a front-row seat to the magic and joy you bestow upon all of us. For that, I am eternally grateful and no matter what, I will always love you.

Happy 7th Birthday!

Love,

MOM

In 36 Hours...

2010-06-18T09:08:00.002-07:00

I will actually be in Lincoln, Omaha and Crete Nebraska for about a total of 36 hours this weekend. That does not include the 7 hours it takes to drive there and back, just the hours that I will physically BE in those places. If you take away the amount of time I plan to spend sleeping say, maybe 10-11 of those hours, it's only about 25-26 total hours that I have to enjoy my home state.

I plan on packing those 25-26 waking hours with fun. Saturday is Cael's Chuck E. Cheese birthday party with his dad and family; that afternoon I'm taking my niece with me to a barbecue hosted by my old high-school friends where we'll also be showering another friend with gifts for her newborn little girl. Later on that night a college-friend of mine and a few others plan on grabbing drinks on Lincoln's infamous "O" Street of bars.

Sunday morning will hopefully involve a run through my sister's neighborhood and then grabbing lunch with my family and Cael at my grandparents' house in Crete where we will celebrate Cael's actual birthday (yes, if you're counting that's three - THREE - birthday celebrations that little guy is getting) and Father's Day with my Grandfather. The little town of Crete is a short-stop off I-80 and always manages to put in a calm and peaceful mood. Their home is always full of smiles and laughter and I love seeing four generations of family members gathered in one room.

After that, I'll be headed on down the road back to Colorado with both my backseat and front-seat empty. Louie the dog is also taking a few weeks of vacation in Nebraska where he'll have a yard and pug playmate at my parents' house. With Cael gone and me being in class two nights a week, I'm afraid it would be very lonely for him here. I'll be reunited with both Cael and Louie, however, over the 4th of July weekend when I return for my annual summer vacation in Nebraska and will bring them both back home with me then.

Yes, the house will be quiet :( Whenever Cael takes a trip, the silence always throws me for a bit. But I already have many, many fun activities planned to keep me busy and make the most out a few weeks of vacation for all of us, don't you worry ;)

XOXO

-SMITC

It's Supposed To Be About ME!

2010-06-17T09:33:00.008-07:00

One of the things I explored this last week with Dr. Lisa was Cael's behavior.

He seemed to be out of sorts lately, more clingy than usual and visibly upset when I had to go to class on Tuesday and Thursday nights, despite that we've hired a very competent and fun babysitter for him on those evenings. I wasn't sure if it was because of the shift from school to summer camp, my new school schedule or not seeing the usual friendly faces every day like he was used to, but something was up.

The byproduct of this was this nose was in a book most of the week. At first, I was celebratory -- this is exactly what I did as a kid too. But the therapist asked - why did you read a lot? What was your motivation for this? I thought and then answered quickly: "To escape."

My childhood wasn't terrible, by any means; in fact, I think I had a pretty great one. My dad raised my sister and I as tomboys and my mom taught us girly things. Random Jill trivia here: A few summers we dressed up as prairie-pioneer kids (think: thick wool stockings, long dresses, bonnets) and accompanied my mom to her job at Stuhr Museum playing "townsfolk" where we entertained crowds by walking on stilts and playing with a stick and hoop.) But because for about 8 hours of the day we had to live and work like we lived in the 1800s, we had to leave the Game Boys, the Walkmans, the ANYTHING ELECTRONIC at home and devise our own devices to keep ourselves entertained.

I turned to reading. I was bored and I wanted to escape. Reading was the ONE thing I could do in the summers that didn't look out of place, and so I'd go out into the tall prairie-grass fields to the west of the faux rail-road town, lie down where no one could see me, and read to my heart's content.

But what could Cael be trying to escape from?

My session with Dr. Lisa was at 9 a.m. on Saturday morning and his birthday party was held later that afternoon. In between our session ending and the party beginning, I ran around the house frantically putting things together in preparation. So by the time Cael started crying because he didn't win one of the games, I. About. Lost. It.

Wasn't this whole THING for him? Wasn't there a whole MOUND of birthday presents out there? Weren't all these people here FOR HIM and he's seriously crying over a simply little GAME?!!!!

Thankfully, I diffused the situation quickly and got him back into party mood without losing my shiz. Because, I did, want to, lose my shiz.

But after taking a closer look at his behavior all week long with Dr. Lisa that morning and his outburst at the party, after the festivities had died down, I didn't harp on the fact that he'd been upset about not winning.

In fact, if anyone was to blame, it was me. All week long he was shifting schedules from school to camp, was missing out on time with mom and spending time with a sitter and the time that DID have together I'd been planning his party and making arrangements, picking things up here and there, designing goodie bags, etc. When he was crying in his room during his party, I finally realized the most important part I had been missing.

"This is MY birthday party, he said, it's supposed to be about ME!"

Well, true. Sort of. I explained we still needed to make sure his guests have a good time and everyone goes home happy and besides...there's a lot of presents and cake that are just for him.

But what he was saying was "You know what? On EVERY other day mom, I know it's not all about me. I know there are other things going on that we have to do and rules and schedules to conform to. But on this day, this ONE day, I'd just like it to be ALL about me. Is that too much to ask?"

It's tough to balance trying to teach your children to be aware of the world around them and considerate of the other people in it versus giving them all they need and ensuring they are happy. I have a very terrible case of "it's all about ME!" actually and have been working in the last few years to correct that, and also make sure I don't pass that mentality on to my son.

But he was right. There should be at least just a day when it is, all about him. I can't promise him that every day; unfortunately I have to work in the morning and have laundry to do at night, dishes in the sink, lunches to pack, etc. I try to involve him in activities as much as possible but on top of work, school and planning a party ... it just got a little lost last week. I should have done a better of job of explaining why we were doing games (so we can hand out prizes to friends) but because we had to devise games at the last minute (thank you, RAIN) it just slipped my mind. I should have involved him more in the planning instead of just wanting to get it done and I should have made it more about him.

So this week, I did. Or, at least, I've tried. Monday night when I picked him up from camp, I announced we were going to the gym - a place he loooooves to play at. I needed exercise and thought he would enjoy the treat. But I could tell on his face it wasn't his favorite idea. "That's just not a lot of family time" he said. And this time, I was listening. So I asked - what would you like to do instead? He chose riding his bike at the park. I strapped on my roller blades and we both got in exercise AND family time.

Last night we went to the movies together. I made a point to declare we were going to go to the movies on Wednesday, so even though he had a sitter Tuesday night, he had the movies to look forward to. I made it a big deal, let him pick out the movie, the food and spot in the theater. We cuddled and watched Marmaduke and I didn't shush him when he would say, out loud to the screen "Marmaduke! Don't do that!" (there were like 12 other people in the theater. His cute little voice in the dark wasn't going to piss too many people off...I hope.) And when we walked to the car, I picked him up and carried him. Now that he's pushing about 45 lbs. or so, this isn't easy for me to do anymore, but is a treat for both of us. While we talked about the movie and our favorite characters, I kissed him on the cheek and told him he was my favorite person in the whole world.

He kissed my cheek in return and said, "You too, mommy."

I never get kisses anymore ... they're just too "icky" he now says. But I did last night.

Last night, it was about him. But I found out that when it's about him and he's feeling loved, I feel loved too and we both win.

What's tough is that I'm having this realization as he's about to go visit Nebraska for the next two weeks. It will definitely be a teary-eyed parting.

XOXO

-SMITC

A "Indoor" Park Party!

2010-06-14T22:14:00.002-07:00

It has taken me until today blog about Cael's birthday party because I've seriously been that exhausted.

What was supposed to be a fun birthday party in the park, ended up being held in our 1,100 sq. foot condo thanks to all of the rain this weekend. Around Friday night, it became clear that the skies were not going to clear and that we'd all be soaked if we tried to hold our party in the park as planned.

So, we contacted everyone, gave them directions to our place and hoped for the best.

Well, actually, it was more like I furiously cleaned for 24 hours, moved furniture around and prayed that my dear carpet wouldn't be maimed forever. Thanks to the help of friend Chrissy, who stayed at my place until about midnight the night before, friend Cincy who took me on a trip to Costco and a last-minute trip to the Dollar Store it all turned out all right. In total we had about 20-25 people crammed into my place and no one knocked heads, bled or threw up. I call that a success.

Kids and families arrived around 3 p.m. and we had movies on upstairs and downstairs as people began to mingle. Kids played with toys around the house, eyed the cake and after lots of running and screaming up and down the stairs, were finally organized into a few games. Finally the big moment of the candle-blowing came and presents were opened. Honestly, it all happened so fast, I barely had a chance to catch my breath, but I think, think, the kiddos had fun. (With the exception of my kid who cried because he didn't win a game. I was MORTIFIED, by this, BTW and told him to suck it up and knock it off...it's not like there weren't a mound of presents there for him.)

And, I must point out that this is the FIRST of Cael's birthday parties. The kiddo is spoiled. He'll have another one with his dad this weekend back home in Nebraska and then a small brunch/cake party with my grandmother Sunday morning. So. Cry me a river, kid, you're FINE. Life is good for you.

Here's a few pics of the day, and I'm doing my best not to post any pics of kids who are not mine out of respect for their privacy.

I'm sure there are details I didn't forget (did everyone get a balloon? A goodie bag?) The patio wasn't as clean as I had wanted it to be and I'm sure my neighbors below me are planning their revenge. I called my mother that night to say "OMG, thank you for every birthday party you ever planned and threw." I remember having a lot of birthday parties at our house and just NOW understand that kind of work that went into it. Thanks, mom. Maybe one day I'll get that kind of call myself ... 20 years from now :)

XOXO

-SMITC

Summer Reading List

2010-06-10T00:16:00.009-07:00

"The more that you read,
the more that you'll know.
The more that you learn,
The more places you'll go!"
-Dr. Seuss

Tuesday marked the beginning of my summer class: Intergovernmental Relations. The class is held every Tuesday and Thursday night from 6 to 9 p.m. Before you say, "Sucks to be you!" let me say that federalism, which is essentially what the class is about, is one of my favorite topics. Its meaning has been analyzed since the founders of our constitution assigned rights to the states and the national levels of government, but it has become even more relevant when considering how our system of government responds to things like oil spills, health care, education and welfare reform.

Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?

The class topic aside, attending summer class two nights a week also required a highly coordinated effort in arranging a sitter for my son for the evening.

It starts the night before with making sure there is a meal in the fridge for sitter and son to reheat when they get home (while I'm already sitting in class down at UC-Denver.) Then the next day we need to remember to drop off the car-seat with the summer-camp program so the sitter can legally transport Cael. Around 5 p.m., I stop by summer camp to say "Hi" to the son, get some hugs in, etc., before I head home to walk the dog, put dinner in the oven, if need be, and grab things before I head to campus around 5:30, to make time for the drive downtown, parking, walking to the building, etc. The sitter (who is pursuing her undergraduate in education) gets out of her class at 5:45 and goes to pick up my son, making sure to be there by 6 p.m. She then takes him home, gets him the dinner I've prepared, entertains him, etc., until I get home at 9.

Whew. Honestly, I think UC-Denver should just throw me an extra credit for THAT song and dance. If there's ever a position open for a "logistics coordinator" I'm your man. Er. Woman.

I haven't yet taken a summer off in the 2+ years I've worked on my Master's Degree, which means that even though I've been part-time for the last four semesters, I'll still graduate (hopefully - yes cross your fingers please?!) this winter at the three-year mark. Yes, it does mean giving up evenings with Cael, and before-you-even-ask-or-lay-a-guilt-trip-on-me, it DOES suck. Tuesday night I had a really hard time leaving him after stopping by to say hi. But, he'll also be heading off to his dad's in a week, which means I won't have to worry about the sitter coordination, I'll just have to miss him, like, ALL the time instead of a few hours on a few nights a week. Two nights a week of class will keep me from moping around the house when he's gone.

But summer classes are no cake-walk. This is an 8-week semester, when normally semesters are 16-weeks long. Which means you cram about 8-weeks of projects/papers/reading into half the time. This summer, I'll be reading these two gems: "Intergovernmental Management for the 21st Century" and "American Intergovernmental Relations." (So far, both have been fairly entertaining and informative, actually, because they are written by ... wait for it ... a few of my favorite authors who write a lot on systems for capacity building in the American system of government.)

Boo to the firggin ya, YES, Husker-Butt shorts just said that!

But. BUT!

What I'm most proud of is not the reading I'll be doing this summer. It's the reading that Cael will be doing. It seems that we've turned the corner from reading books with pictures and easy words to ... CHAPTER BOOKS! I forced him into buying some at the recent book fair, and lucked out because they were about pugs. He devoured it and delighted in telling me what "chapter" he was on. And let me tell you - this was one of those parent moments where your own child does something that you remember doing fondly yourself. I. Love. Reading. I had my nose in a book as early as I could remember and would read anything I found. This is in an age before technology and I was in a phase where I didn't quite understand "Saved by the Bell" and cartoons were for little kids. But - I could pick up a volume of "The Babysitter's Club" or "Sweet Valley High" and be engulfed in a different world. Actually, if you REALLY want to know, while I do have several volumes of those editions, my favorites were still anything written by Laura Ingalls Wilder or a Trixie Belden Mystery. (Triva- who out there ever read Trixie Belden? Because I. Wanted. To. Be. Her. Still do, in fact.)

So tonight, as we were headed to one of my friend's house for dinner with her and her partner, I told him it was likely he would need something to entertain himself. Why didn't he pack a chapter book, I suggested? After a day of swimming with the summer camp crew, he was too tired to argue, so he picked one out of his library he hadn't started yet. When he handed it to me, I raised my eyebrows, but said nothing.

He'd picked an older book out, one that was passed on to us by his grandmother on his dad's side. It's one of his dad's old books, and even has his dad's name written in the front cover. It's a paper-back, but still quite thick. Like, 174-pages thick.

174 pages. My 1st-going-on-2nd grader picked out a 174 page book. Dear God. But it had a mummy on the front and appeared interesting, so I didn't say a word...perhaps he would find he needed help with the words, but if he thought he could read it, then why not let him try?

Sensing an eery silence in the car on the way over to dinner, I looked in the rear view to see him face-down, reading. And can I just say, how weird it is to see my little 6-year-old, still sitting in his booster seat, reading a chapter book? All throughout dinner, the book sat next to his plate. As soon as he was finished he picked it up (yep, yep, a trick I often tried to get away with when I was his age too. Terrible table manners, I know, but I let it slide.) After he was excused, he went into the living room and buried his nose deep into its pages. We adults talked another hour or so and when I looked up, he was still reading.

As we headed home, I flipped through the pages and was sure, SURE, that there were words in that book he hadn't read. It's a 174-freak'n page book, how did he know how to say "Professor Yarborough?" (one of the main characters. He wasn't quite sure on the Yarborough, he said, but he knew the guy was a professor, which was good enough for him. Well, what about the word "Whisper?" I asked. "I know the word 'whisper' mom. It's in the title.")

Oh. Excuuuuuse me.

So then I quizzed him. What was the book about? Who were the main characters? What was happening? These were all questions his teacher had told me, incidentally, he should be answering as he moves from the 1st-grade reading level to the 2nd. It's not enough that they read now, but that they understand what they're reading.

Though he protested by staying he was only on the 3rd chapter, he did answer my questions with general understanding. I flipped through the book myself and realized that, why he may not have all of the exact proper names correct and finest detail down to a 'T', he had a pretty good understanding of what was going on.

And, another parent-moment here, I remember doing the exact same thing around his age. I may not have known exactly all the details, but I knew enough to keep me reading ... and the more I read, the more I knew how to read, the more I learned.

Right now, Cael is uncovering the case of the Mystery of the Whispering Mummy somewhere near Egypt.

And perhaps one day, it'll take him as far as Tuesday/Thursday night summer class with some of his favorite authors.