I can see a loser coming....

…From a mile away

I don’t know what you would call it. A sixth sense maybe? I swear to God I can size any guy up within minutes of talking to them and/or watching them interact with other people. I don’t consider myself to be the type of person who purposefully looks for faults in other people. Nor do I consider myself a ‘man-hater’ as some of my friends may jokingly accuse. I just think that I can see through the bullshit. I don’t see this as a fault as some of my friends may say, but as a gift.

I am constantly being razzed for setting my standards too high. Hearing jokes being made (in good spirit, but still) about how I’m on the verge of turning gay, or that I’m going to be an old reclusive cat lady. I’ve been single for nearly three years now and well-intentioned friends are constantly trying to set me up. This may seem like a good thing, but it’s not.

For various reasons every guy that has tried to ‘woo’ me just hasn’t quite made the cut. They may have been too awkward or maybe too suave. Maybe they tried too hard; maybe they didn’t try hard enough. Maybe they were too short/tall, fat/skinny or maybe they just talked about their car too much. Maybe they had a crumb on their lip the whole night and all I could think about was why they didn’t feel the crumb on their lip and remove it FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!

Regardless of the reason I chose to give my friend (who did the setting up) who anxiously awaits my ‘report’, the true reason is that I know that pursuing any of these guys would be a waste of my time. They are all loser(it’s not their fault they’re young and stupid and totally clueless about what’s really important in life)! I can see through them and their b.s. and I refused to be duped. After the first couple of ‘set ups’ which I courteously declined I started to get the rep of miss snooty pants. My friends insist my standards are too high. I will never find anyone with my current expectations and that I need to lower my standards or I will be a crazy cat lady, yada yada yada.

Personally I don’t think the issue is my standards. I think it’s more complex than that. Yes I have high standards and I’m damn proud of them. I feel empowered to know that at the ripe age of 22 (almost 23…8 more days and no, I don’t give a shit that I’m getting a new president for my birthday this year. Not when my choices are between a douche bag and a giant turd sandwich) I am perfectly content to be single and focused on getting to know myself as well as raising my daughter to the best of my ability. I am completely dependent on myself only, which is the greatest feeling in the world, and I answer to nobody.

I guess I feel that if it was just myself I would have a lot more room for error in my choices as far as getting into a relationship. Trial and error isn’t really that big of a deal when you are the only one who suffers. I try really hard to learn from other people’s mistakes and I have been witness to several of my single parent friends finding themselves in and out of relationships or stuck in destructive ones. They don’t want to be alone, and I understand that, but what about the kids? The kids are getting attached to each of these significant others. The kids are learning from us what a relationship is and how it’s suppose to work and although it’s inadvertent they are being taught instability as a result of those choices being made regarding relationships and intimacy.

So my retort to my friends who say I’m a cat lady in training, who say my standards are too high and I’ll never find anyone who can make the cake (bake the cake? Take the cake? Meet the cake? Eat the cake? Whatever!) is this: my standards for myself are NOT too high however, my expectations for the standard in which my daughter will live is extremely high. My standards for the amount of love my daughter will receive is also extremely high. The standard for the person I choose to be a male figure to my daughter is extremely high, and no amount of nagging, bashing, teasing or scaring me into believing I’ll be alone forever will change that. Not in a million years. Not for a million dollars. Never.

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My Friends

It’s an interesting thing, socially, to be a single mother. The stigma of being an unwed parent is not what it used to be and for that I am grateful. However, relating to my peers is more often than not a different story. I’ve been blessed with having several single mom and dad friends who have been there for me for support, help and the oh so simple yet magnificent invention, play dates.

These people are the ones I can relate to. The ones I have more in common with. These are the people I turn to with advice about how to deal with tantrums, potty training, and bedtime. These are my friends and my parenting advisors and I am blessed to have each and every one of them.

I also have friends that are single and childless or married and childless or married with children. I really hate to lump all of these friends into one category, but it’s true that it is much more difficult for me to relate to these friends. My childless single and married friends have trouble understand why I can’t or just plain don’t want to get a sitter every Saturday to go to the bar. Or why I chose not to get so drunk that I can’t even see straight. Or why I can’t forget about my daughter for a night and ‘just have fun’. They don’t understand how the love of a child changes a person, and they have trouble taking my single mama status into consideration when try to make plans with me.

My married friends with children are a little better. These are the friends I can have a casual dinners in with. We can plan fun activities with our kids. I can get sound advice mostly…. but the understanding of what it truly is to be completely solo in your parenting still isn’t there. I find that I’m getting good advice but it just isn’t workable with my situation.

Raising children is hard no matter if your single or married, and I understand that but I’m sorry there are a lot of advantages that my married parent friends have and I guess it upsets me when they take it for granted. Double income is the first thought that comes to mind. They say ‘I don’t know how you do it’ and I say ‘ I can appreciate what I have, why can’t you?’

Despite all my complaining there really is something to say in having a diversity in my friends. I am always learning and growing and each and every friend I have, no matter what the category I choose to place them in, contributes to that. One of the main things I’ve learn is that everyone no matter how ideal their situation may seem has ‘the grass is always greener’ syndrome. Everyone has some wisdom to share. Everyone has some things they wish they could change. And it all boils down to perspective.

This is a shout out to all my peeps! No matter how hard it is for us to 'get' each other sometimes!! =D

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Nevaehisms

It seems like just yesterday my daughter was just a blob consisting of folds of flesh and tiny little bones. Completely helpless. Totally dependent on me for everything. Not even able to open her fist. Struggling to keep her head up, which after only seconds, brought on sleepy time.

I don’t know about other parents, but I feel like I’m constantly waiting for the next milestone, mistakenly thinking that then things will be ‘easier’. I couldn’t wait for her to walk, talk, feed herself, potty training ect. And am already thinking about how much easier it will be when she’s in school and I’m alleviated of her daycare expenses.

Boy do times change fast. Dear Lord was my outlook ever so silly! It’s important to enjoy each milestone without anxiously awaiting the next, but I think that’s a pretty common thing…and each first time parent learns the same lesson. Now I wish she was a little helpless blob again!
The terrific (I use that term loosely) two stage is a wonderful time to be a mom. I get to watch my child learn and grow a little each day. Mature and understand more and more of her surrounding, and watch her personality slowly blossom.

Nevaeh is not a morning person. She takes after me in that way. Mornings are usually chaos at my place, but every once in a blue moon we will have the greatest morning ever and I always know which days those will be. I always wake her up the same way. I sit next to her and rub her back and say ‘time to wake up Nevaeh’…and sometimes when she slowly opens her eyes and looks up at me, she’s smile. This is a good sign! She’ll put her two little hand around my face, look me straight in the eyes and in the cutest sleepiest little girl voice say ‘good mornin’ mama’. SO CUTE!!

She’s such a good girl about so many things that sometimes I forget that she can be a little hellion. She puts all her garbage in the garbage can. All her dirty clothes go straight to the laundry basket. She’s very good about making sure she’s holding my hand both when she needs to and also just because she wants to most of the time. She reminds me to grab my purse and/or my coffee when we’re flying out the door in the morning and I have left something behind. She’ll bust out with an ‘ I lub you so much’ at just the right moment. She can be the smartest, greatest, sweetest kid around.

On the flip side (ya had to know there’s a flip side) she wants to do what mommy does. She wants to put mama’s bra on. She wants make-up, or as she would say ‘put da pity (pretty) ahla eyes; put da pity ahla cheek; put da pity ahla lips.’ I’ve honestly never offered her make up. I rarely wear it myself. She’s just caught on and she wants it! She wants the lotions and the smellys (perfume). She wants belts and hair diddy’s. She wants a purse and possession of her YMCA membership card.

She's had a recent obsession with juice and cheese…. and maybe my head is in the gutter but how much closer can a two year old get to a ‘high society’ wine tasting?!

Since when did two year olds become so posh? Since when do I have to argue with my toddler about makeup, and her restriction from makeup not being the end of the world? Since when do I feel like I’m dealing with a 2 going on 20 situations?

It’s a very scary thing to get a glimpse into the dreaded teenage years when she’s still so young. If I catch her in an off mood and (excuuuuuse me) sit too close to her on the couch, oh boy howdy, ‘Get away from me! Scootcha boot mama!’ she’ll yell. It’s amazing how fast they go from being your little baby to being there own little person. I’m not sure if I like it. So lesson learned, I guess. In another 10 years I’ll be cooing over how cute she was when she wanted to try on mama’s bra, and how adorable she looked when she’d sneak into my makeup box and paint her face up like a clown.

Man, time flies when your having fun.

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