Am…musings

By Octal Kahn on Flickr

As I’ve admitted, I’m a bit of an overthinker, always critically thinking through scenarios and coming up with all the possible outcomes … good or bad. To some, it may appear that I’m a bit negative. The reality is it helps me figure out solutions to possible pitfalls or to decide if they are really as catastropic as they seem. Then I let it go and positively forge ahead. I also truly strive to keep negativity out my general thinking as I’ve mentioned before.

That’s why I love a fresh perspective. My favorite thus far is a client who shocked me with “win the lottery” when I was expecting “hit by a bus.” See … she chooses to say “in case I win the lottery,” instead of (the terribly negative when you really think about it) “in case I get hit by a bus.” I love it and now say it too.

The Late Bloomer Bride, Suzanne, recently provided a great (and I thought post-worthy) fresh perspective in the comments on last week’s post about her blog. Here it is: Having had a rich single life (and now a wonderful husband), I tell all my single friends that (for me anyway) “singledom” and “marriedom” have equal (though different) benefits. So, love where you are. And, if you find someone to love who loves you back along the way, then even better.

My neighbor and I have a joke that it’s “reason #XXXX” for me not to have kids any time one of her teenagers does something stupid. I also have plenty of friends and family (including my mother) who will complain about their spouses and say, “Do you really want one?”

I know everyone means well with these comments, but they’ve always fallen flat with me because I know despite the heartaches or issues, most would choose to do it all over again. And comparing their negatives with the negatives of singledom certainly didn’t make me feel any better. Much like the lottery comment, I love Suzanne’s comment and plan to keep it in my thoughts AND share it with my friends when they complain about their kids or husbands .

I’m thankful that today was the day I happened to notice a blog my friend Marijean has featured and mentioned on her own blog no less than three times in the last six months … The Late Bloomer Bride.

I love Christmas, but even more so than car trouble and broken dishwashers … it reminds me of my aloneness. As I’ve said before, I believe things happen for a reason and that there is a reason I’m single and without kids, but I find it hard not to wallow just a little bit around the holidays. So today … the day the holidays are officially over and we unofficially start a fresh year … seems like the perfect day to find a blog that celebrates getting married later in life.

After reading about the LBB and a few of her current posts, I was attracted to the “Why an LBB?” category. LBB shares lots of great tidbits and advice, but I truly love the first post that popped up: An LBB’s Advice in Finding Love: Seek Happiness First, Then A Mate.

In the post, LBB suggests that women need to decide if they really want to be married. I found this very intriguing because I’ve lately begun to wonder if one of the reasons I’m still single is because I don’t really know what I want. This may come as a shock, but I’ve known ever since I was a kid that marriage isn’t necessarily my ultimate goal … despite the large collection of wedding magazines in my basement. Even though I adore looking at the pretty dresses, rings, flowers, favors, etc., I know that just because a couple is married doesn’t always mean they are committed to each other, in love … or even in like.

Another big question is kids … I used to know without a doubt that I wanted kids, but the older I get, the less sure I am. I definitely know having a child alone is not something I want to do … and I certainly would never want to settle in a relationship in order to shush the ticking of my ovaries.

I guess ultimately I want a man to love and who loves me … one who I can take care of and who will take care of me … one who makes me happier than I am alone and that I can make happier than he is alone … for the rest of our lives. I’ll leave the wedding and kids questions to fate, although I certainly wouldn’t turn my nose up at a pretty, princess-cut “commitment” diamond for me and a nice “commitment” band for him.

After a year of living fairly frugally, and without the requirement of buying holiday gifts for a boyfriend/husband or kids, I’ve been splurging a bit with a “one for you, two for me” approach to Christmas shopping.

I do have a small family and several of my friends decided spending time together for dinner or whatnot was better than spending money on presents so it hasn’t been a total free-for-all. But here are a few example:

• A bunch of clothes for me, while getting gift cards for the office adopt-a-family and stuff for my folks (that I won’t mention here in case they read this before Christmas morning).
• A really cool, slightly expensive necklace while buying ornaments for gifts at Third Degree Glass Factory.
• An awesome bottle opener, a foil cutter and two ornaments while shopping for my office Secret Santa recipient.

I also indulged in a mani-pedi tonight (something I don’t normally do in winter when I try to do my own to save some cash).

That said … would I trade all those things for love and a family? In a heartbeat. And does Christmas mean more to me than the presents? Without a doubt. But since I’m single and childless this Christmas season, I figure I might as well enjoy my freedom, rather than dwell on my singledom.

I sometimes feel guilty for having a cleaning lady … a splurge basically because I’m lazy.

When I feel that way (or when I feel the need to justify it to others), I go back to the reason I did it. My third spring on Kit Drive was approaching and I was starting to feel the same stress I felt the two springs prior … the stress of trying to keep up with the yard, the cleaning, the laundry, etc. all by myself. A cleaning lady or a lawn helper were the obvious solution (although as much as I hate doing laundry, I really did give a lot of thought to getting out of that). I decided I much preferred being outside and getting the exercise of mowing (a decision I only question when I have to mow on 98+ degree days).

Yet, as the economy has tightened, I often wonder if I should have her come less frequently or not at all. The past week or so has cured me of that. I was out of town the entire week of Thanksgiving so I had her skip her regular cleaning time that Friday after Turkey Day. Fast forward a week and my house looked like a tornado hit it. Being out of town for week meant there was less dirt in the tub, the sink, etc. … but what I think is just as important for me is that her coming forces me to straighten all the clutter. When I get busy (which is typically always … and particularly so this time of year), it’s easy to let the crap pile up. The every-two-week cleaning schedule keeps me in line … the week after she’s been here, I’m reluctant to mess it up … and I know if I keep it relatively uncluttered the next week before she’s back again, I won’t have to scramble the night before she’s here.

I’m looking forward to getting back on track after she cleans tomorrow … now off to finish cleaning for the cleaning lady.

I’ve been wallowing a little bit lately. My last post was way down in the wallow-dom, but I was smacked upside the head with a “things could be waaay worse” moment while reading my Glamour mag yesterday. The October issue featured a fun, somewhat irreverent article about a 27-year-old virgin. December’s letter to the editors were penned by a 29-year-old-virgin and a 32-year-old virgin. I am not at all judging these women for their choices, but THANK GOD I am not among their ranks. I imagine I’d either be a raging bitch or would have settled and married some moron … just for sex.

On a more serious note (not that virgins aren’t serious) … I also thought about a good friend of mine after my last post. She was married and then had to raise three kids on her own when her husband walked out (while she was pregnant with their third child – yeah, a total ass). In her experience, being truly alone … even in motherhood … was easier than being alone in their failing marriage. She said it was the worst feeling to have to brave life’s challenges on her own when her husband should have been facing them with her. I imagine that aloneness with an overwhelming sense of betrayal would be much worse, and I am thankful for this time it’s taking me to find the right man.

In college, a friend of my roommate predicted I’d be a DINK (dual income, no kids). He was a granola type who didn’t really know me, but quickly pegged me as a yuppy. The comment was meant as an insult, and I took it that way.

It wasn’t that I judged those who chose not to or were unable to have kids. To him, being a DINK meant someone who was selfish and into the “things” in life … and no one wants to hear that about themselves. Plus I’d always thought I’d be a good mom, and his flippant comment hurt my feelings.

Fast forward nearly 20 years, and I say bring on the DINK-dom.

Why the change of heart? A few weeks ago, my dishwasher quit working. Yesterday, my garbage disposal exploded. Today, my car left a puddle of antifreeze on my driveway, overheated on my way home and is currently sitting at the repair shop. I’m also pretty sure my furnace isn’t going to make it through the winter. It’s not just the dual income I’m after … although some extra cash would be nice with the expenses racking up. And I haven’t entirely given up on having kids. But honestly, every time one of these calamities strikes, I’m reminded of my aloneness.

Sure, I can call my parents or a friend (and I’m extremely grateful for their love and support), but it doesn’t seem the same as having a husband or even a partner (Goldie Hawn/Kurt Russell style) to rely on … and to help me clean up the mess. Exploding disposals are pretty nasty.

Ok, I’m writing a book review of a 4-year-old book, but I so wish someone would have forced me to read it two years ago. It would have saved me tons of time. It also would have rescued my friends from countless conversations as I tried to figure (various) him(s) out. Sorry to those of you reading!

So … I’m highly recommending “He’s Just Not That Into You” by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo as a public service for single women (and the friends they lament to).

The book addresses the “dating limbo” of unsatisfying relationships that women can’t seem to let go of. It outlines various scenarios and excuses women make. Not surprisingly, each scenario comes to the same conclusion … “he’s just not that into you.”

In terms of my love life, I’ve dated Mr. “Too Busy” and Mr. “Only Wants to Have Sex,” but I recognized those guys for what they were without the wisdom of the book. However, Mr. “Mixed Signals,” Mr. “Unable to Commit” and Mr. “Otherwise Committed” (yes, he had a live-in girlfriend and no, I’m not at all proud of that one) tripped me up. I’m the girl who always wonders, “what if” (as in, “what if I don’t give this a chance and he’s the one”), but really this book is right … while “he’s not that into you” sounds harsh, it’s more about women deserving someone who worships us, not someone we have to wonder “what if” about.

Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule. My neighbor lent me this book (I can’t remember why. We may have been talking about the movie coming out soon, but I secretly think she was trying to help me clear my head of the cobwebs left by Mr. “Otherwise Committed.”). Her friends gave it to her back in 2004, when R. wouldn’t commit and she was having trouble moving on. They broke up, but apparently he really just was into her because now, they’re happily married.

The Christmas decorations are packed. Now, I just need the husband to help me take them downstairs. Oh wait … I don’t have one of those.

For some reason this holiday season was a little tougher than in the past and I’m not quite out of the funk. Maybe it’s because I spent Christmas week with two great kids (a 4-month-old and a toddler), and the time is coming when I’m going to have to make the choice to do it alone if I’m going to do it at all. It isn’t a choice I want to have to make. Or maybe it’s because I’m still a little tainted by the failed fall romance.

Also, being single wasn’t as hard when most of my friends were single, but those numbers are dwindling. Heck, most everyone in my office is married … even the early 20-somethings. Honestly, I’m personally happy I didn’t get married in my 20s or early 30s. For one, I had too much fun and tons of great experiences. I also believe you are still growing and becoming who you are in your 20s, and it’s the lucky few couples that actually grow together instead of apart. But I’m ready now … and it’s not happening.

I also believe in the power of positive thought and I almost deleted this post because focusing on what you don’t have is counterproductive. But deleting the words wouldn’t have destroyed the thoughts in my head. Instead, I’m putting them out there in an effort to acknowledge them and move on to a better (and hopefully a more romantically successful) 2009.

Because my neighbor Marsha and our friend Kelly did a supreme job of making me feel guilty …. because I’m an optimist … and mostly because I believe God plays jokes on us occasionally, I met Match-Herb for drinks tonight.

I was hoping for an ogre. He isn’t. He’s also a very, very nice guy. And nice absolutely makes a difference in my book.

Of course, I did have a good giggle on the phone with Marsha on the way to Harpos where Herb and I met. Also, hysterical laughing ensued during my drive home as I thought about H-E-R-B. And … I grinned all the way to the bathroom after the cute guy at the table next to us asked me (while Match-Herb was in the bathroom) if we were on a first date and for some reason I felt the need to share my name dilemma. (And here I’ll interject with another Damn It … where the heck are the cute boys asking me questions when I’m not on a date??? And couldn’t Match-Herb have taken a little longer to get back from the bathroom so the cute boy and I could have talked longer? Seriously?!?)

Despite the laughter (and the cute boy), I kind of like you-know-who. But, obviously, I’m still a little hung up on the name. Now what?

*Keith (and Jadea who noticed Keith’s funny comment), the rogue “n” the title is just for you!

Sure … there are the obvious reasons why I’d like a man in my life … opening jars, reaching things on high shelves, cleaning gutters*, among other things I won’t mention here because one of my co-workers cringed when I just mentioned kissing in the Match-Herb post.

Sopping up my basement last weekend in the wake of Ike’s remnants – and in the process, assembling a wet/dry vac all by myself – got me thinking along these lines. It also reminded me of the thing that makes me feel most alone in my aloneness … folding sheets.

In my family of three, two of us always folded sheets together. While I’m pretty independent and, as I’ve mentioned before, subscribe to the belief that it will happen when it’s meant to, not having someone here to help me fold sheets makes me … just plain lonely.

*P.S. Thanks to Dad-Herb for cleaning my gutters before the deluge.