dating transparency

you know when you read someone's online social media, work, whatever profile and it breaks your bullshit meter?

especially in the online dating world, it's all about projecting the right image, selecting the right moments for the hilight reel, putting your best face forward and pushing all your positive attributes to the forefront so by the time they notice your neurosis the other person is hopelessly hooked and willing to over look flaws that may have otherwise been deal-breakers.

make sure you have the right words, make sure you have appropriate friendly but not too friendly but comfortable/casual but perfectly polished "i woke up this way" pictures, make sure you list the cool trendy habits and hobbies that you never actually do but thought about maybe trying once. make sure you list all the popular TV shows and top selling books in your "favorites" list.

make sure, make sure, make sure...

and make sure you pack your hip waders to get through the unfiltered shit if you ever get to an actual date.

i don't do well on dating sites. mostly because i'm a completely shallow bitch who rejects people for the most basic things- dead animals in their profile pictures, posting pictures of their kids on the site where millions of strangers can see them, one too many up the nose shots, pictures of your super cool babe magnet vehicle, bad hair cuts, poor hygiene that you can smell through the screen. i also instantly reject people who can't figure out how to spell the word "u" in it's full and proper form, who don't know the difference between their, they're, there, you're, your. i block users who send me "ur sexy" emails or lead off with questions about sex. i have very low tolerance for bullshit. i have ZERO knowledge of or tolerance for "strategic dating" and the proper number of days before you call or text, how to lure men in, how to effectively use ultimatums (there is no way to do this, btw), what the different wardrobes should be for evening dates vs coffee dates or after work drinks vs. weekend drinks.

bottom line: my wardrobe is limited, my personality is strong and my patience is short. i would rather get all the bullshit out and on the table at the very beginning than waste both our time on something that isn't a match. on to the next option after a five minute coffee meet up rather than 4 months of slowly realizing this isn't your jam.

and i know. there's the theory of slowly letting someone get used to you, something that may have seemed like a deal breaker may end up being endearing. maybe mute your personality for a while and slowly let the real you out.

WHICH BASICALLY MEANS YOU DON'T LIKE YOURSELF ENOUGH TO TRUST THAT SOMEONE ELSE WOULD.

it's inherently telling yourself that you're flawed and broken and not worthy of someone that will accept you, just as you are. if you have to hide pieces of yourself or "trick" someone into loving you or let them slowly decide they can tolerate you? that doesn't sound like very much fun to me.

i don't have any dating profiles up right now because, well, the dating pool needs a fuck ton of chlorine. and penicillin. and maybe a few AA meetings. and half of them need to worry more about checking in with their parole officer than checking their tinder matches. the other half are too busy at the gym GTLing to arrange time to meet up. it's a disheartening, dirty, diluted dating world out there.

BUT.

we all know me. at some point i'll venture back out into the online match making corral of shame. but next time i think i'm done worrying about being proper. this last go round my "about me" section consisted of the following: "tattooed, degreed, opinionated" short, basic, to the point.

i think for the next go round i'm going totally, unabashedly, brutally transparent.

here's to #bfhunt2016

 

this chick: single

for a very long time. take from that what you will.

short temper, high expectations.

tattooed, degreed, opionated.

i snore, don't eat anything purple and won't eat meat on the bone. i hate doing dishes but don't mind doing laundry. my house is a constant state of managed chaos- there's stacks of papers in various locations but i know what's in each one and they are all important, otherwise they wouldn't be sitting out. my house is tidy but never white glove inspection clean. i often forget (or don't want to) grocery shop, but when i do i'm a good cook. i'm not good at sharing a bed because i've had it to myself forever. i like to watch tv when i fall asleep, put the toilet paper on so it goes over the top and squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom. i have two teenagers which means i have zero patience and yell more than i should. i curse like a sailor on leave but also know there's a time and a place when it's not appropriate. i like my steaks medium well, I KNOW IT'S RUINING IT. SHUT UP. i'm not a wine snob, but know what i like or don't. i have a terrible habit of pouring myself a beer at home and not finishing it. i have favorite movies that i'll watch over and over again. same with books. i don't have any family, so honestly don't care about holidays and am terrible about birthdays and anniversaries. i'm painfully introverted but can hold my own at social gatherings. if my budget is in a friendly mood i'm up for a beer or a concert or an outing. if my budget sucks, i'm up for a movie on the couch and a little ceasars pizza. i'm not healthy- little ceasars tipped that card. i have a home gym that i never use, but the intention is there. i'm not a yoga nut, i could give a rats ass about rock climbing, going on a hike sounds like something a murderer wants to do so disposing of the body is easier. i would love to go to the beach or on a reasonable (two day maximum) camping trip. i have a short fuse and a fierce temper but a quick recovery time. i expect patience and forgiveness but am terrible about returning the favor (it's a flaw. i'm working on it). i have an itchy trigger finger and am pessimistic by nature when it comes to matters of love and life. i am fiercely loyal, brutally honest, painfully direct. i don't have time or patience for sugar coating.

i believe in marriage equality, women's rights and believe public assistance programs, while flawed, are vital. i firmly believe that sweeping judgements based on religion, skin color, ethnicity, geography are the lowest point of ignorance and stupidity.

there's my nutshell, ball of wax and soap box all in one.

now. kindly invite me out for some form of fried food or kindly fuck the hell off.

just...don't

2015 has been a strange, mean, bland, weird year.

i can't even remember most of the year...at least in specifics. there's large blocks: remember when i was doing music interviews and writing and getting my creative life off the ground again? remember spring and summer shoved full of baseball? remember when i had a roommate? remember the NEVER ENDING football season? and now, here we are. the last days of another calendar.

this year has been and endless march across digital screens of all new ways to be a failure in life. aside from the million lists of "you've been using (insert every. single. item. in your house) wrong!" there's also all the people- celebrities, you tube stars, writers, seemingly everyone letting me know i'm not even loving myself right. if i hate the body i'm in, SHAME ON ME. self love! self acceptance! fat is beautiful! accept all bodies the way they are! don't change a thing!

if i want to change and be healthy it's a traitorous act- why can't you just love and accept yourself as you are? learn to love the person in the mirror! don't give into society's standards of thin is beautiful! fat trader! you're *supposed* to love all your lumps and bumps and "curves" (trust, there's no "curve" here, just...blobs).

if i want to stay the same then i know i'm not being my most healthy self. and i know how "simple" it would be to just do all those nine billion 5 minute a day workouts to have perfect abs and perfect calves and perfect butt shape and perfect obama arms. IT'S JUST FIVE MINUTES. and HOW HARD is it to eat right? what do you mean you don't have an endless bank account to buy all these super trendy super organic miracle foods (that you have no idea to cook and even if you did and the child in your house wouldn't touch, so you'd have to cook two meals every night)? just sell a kidney go to whole foods! (where would i sell a kidney? and where is there even a whole foods??).

shamed if you do, shamed if you don't. 

this has also been a banner year for depression. i didn't have any particular inclination to meet other parents at all the sports things. i'm lousy at best at maintaining friendships. at worst...well...that's about where i am right now. there's nothing quite like spending christmas evening in a bar being invited to random hotel to smoke pot and watch porn by a stranger (true story) to remind you how completely and totally alone you've made yourself. still, better than sitting at home in the total silence realizing that not one person, friend, or family offered an invitation and, because you're completely terrible at being a human, you didn't reach out to anyone to ask. if there's one thing that stuck from all the lessons my mum drilled into me, it's that you NEVER, ever, under any circumstances, invite yourself over to someone else's house. that is the epitome of rude and presumptuous.

and i know, trust me, i KNOW: if you don't like your story, CHANGE IT!

oh, just change it!

OF COURSE.

just change it!

tired of being alone at the holiday? open your home to other lonely people! start an "island of misfits" tradition and have people over for games and drinks and...wait...oh yeah.  done that for the last 5 years and the only person that took me up on it is the now ex-roommate. 

well, just get out there and make some new friend! like...in the evenings...when you're too broke to even get a $2 pbr...and the kid freaks out and starts to destruct if you're not home every night...and bars aren't the best places to make friends...

join a gym! meet people AND get healthy at the same time! oh. yeah. except that crazy huge sign up fee and the monthly fees, and, again, the being away from home causing the spawn to destruct...so take the spawn! oh...extra fees...wait...

holy peter. this isn't that hard woman. just...volunteer somewhere! you know you have evenings and weekends totally free. when you're not running errands. or trying to keep things together at home. or when you're not crippled with social anxiety and depression. oh, and remember not to get too involved and attached when you do volunteer...remember how badly that's ended the last...every...time you've tried.

there's a reason the most remembered phrase from my dad is "you can't save the world kid." oh the countless times i've been screwed over or screwed myself over trying to help people.

what do you like to do? read? well, that's not very social. but how about a book club? a reading? a writers circle? the local book stores post readings and signings and book clubs. JUST TRY ONE (which i will, this saturday).

just keep swimming. just keep looking. just keep trying. just keep surviving. just keep going.

just. keep. going.

i think one of the best but hardest things has been seeing the youngest kiddo transition into jr high and battle the same things that i battled then (and still battle now).

do you remember how mean and scary lunch was if you didn't have a group you belonged to? how fitting in was *THE* most important thing? and i never did. i didn't fit at all. and i so desperately don't want that for my kid. i don't want him eating alone at a table. i don't want him wandering the hallway battlefields with no allies. we got into baseball...but none of those kids are in his school. we did football...a few of the kids are in his school but they don't have any classes or lunch together. and so i give in and let him get the trendy "jogger" sweats even though they are just ridiculous overpriced sweats with designs on them (no they aren't mom, look how much cooler they are). i make sure he has extra stuff in his locker- gum, mints, a few extra dollars for a drink from the vending machine. small tokens he can offer as olive branches. i tried like hell to get him to keep a few tampons in his locker to be a girl ally...that didn't go over so well. if only he knew...

we keep working on stepping outside the "cool" kids and talking to other kids that are maybe sitting alone feeling like they don't fit in anywhere. there's more to talk about than sports. talk about a netflix show or movie you like. a book you read. a comic that you like. your dog. your skateboard. or, just LISTEN. find out what other kids like, what they're interested in. and he's trying. and i know how hard it is, but i REALLY, REALLY don't want him to be like me. this socially awkward loner that spends the holidays cleaning the grooves of the coffee table with a chlorox wipe and a toothpick (again, true story).

he sees me at home, sees me frustrated and angry and sad and doesn't understand what it is. how can i explain depression to him without scaring him or putting undue burden on him? how can i explain that i want him to learn to be better than me? i want him to have friends. i want him to work hard for things. i want him to not be entitled. i want him to have better experiences and memories. i don't want him to learn depression. i don't want him to lean isolation and loneliness. i don't want him to spend his whole life looking for something that isn't there.

i feel like aside from all the sports that's what 2015 has been for me. isolation and failure and social awkwardness. and i don't want that for him. hell, i don't want that for me any more. i just...don't.

the great debate

i am not a naturally social person. i do not enjoy big crowds. i have a hard time attending concerts in large venues. sporting events are tolerable because i am able to yell loud obnoxious things (most of the time) and ignore the crowd around me. i like my bars small and limited on space. i prefer coffee with a specific friend vs a house party with everyone i've ever been introduced to (or worse, a bunch of strangers at someone else's party). i like working in my office because it's just my guys in and out all day with very, VERY few customers ever stopping by.

i prefer to spend my evenings at home reading a book or watching tv series on netflix, even if they're terrible (looking at you private practice).

BUT. 

i know that hiding inside away from humanity isn't healthy. and i won't meet anyone on my couch. and i need adult interaction that doesn't involve kid sports or work topics.

i know i need to go out. but IT'S SO HARD to go.

here's what last night was like in my brain:

3:30, work: you should go out tonight. you have money in the bank for once. go out. have a drink. today calls for a celebration of sorts. things turned out ok (for now) with the teenager, so go, have a drink, let go of some of the stress. you can go home, make dinner for the kiddo, then go out and have a drink or two. solid plan. you can do this.

4:30, home: ugh. dishes. fridge is empty. what did i have planned for dinner? i can't remember. oh hey look, couch. the kid is watching a show that doesn't totally annoy me. i'll watch an episode with him and then we'll figure out dinner, then you can go out for a drink.

7:00, home: oh fuck. we really need to figure out dinner. ugh. maybe we'll just drive thru some where and then i can stop and get a bottle of sailor jerry and have a drink at home. cheaper than going to a bar, right? but i won't talk to anyone if i stay home. and i never actually finish a drink if i stay home. but it's thursday night. the bars will be busy. i hate it when the bar is full. and which bar would i go to anyway. this is such a pain. i know i need to go out but it sounds like a lot of work. but having a drink at home won't work either. holy fuck. why is something this simple this hard to decide. wait, still need to figure out dinner first. damn it. this is fucking exhausting. maybe i'll just stay home and go to bed early. no drink at all. BUT YOU NEED TO BE OUT AROUND PEOPLE. you know you're getting depressed. don't let yourself sit home and wallow. FOOD. FIGURE OUT FOOD FIRST ASSHOLE. YOUR KID IS HUNGRY.

7:30, jack in the box drive thru: gross. i don't want to eat this crap. even their salad looks gross. i'll just order something for the kid and then eat left overs at home. or i could go out and eat somewhere. but what even sounds good. everything is getting ready to close. and the bars will be busy. maybe i'm not that hungry. but you need to eat. at least something. you need to put food in your body. order for the kid, we'll figure out the rest later.

7:50, home: oh. my. god. my kid is disgusting. if i have to watch him shove another bit in his mouth and try to wash it down without chewing one more time i'm going to snap. YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THE HOUSE ASSHOLE. quit snapping over stupid stuff and just go some where. relax. unwind. BUT WHERE DO I GO?? i could go have tacos at that one bar. NO YOU CAN'T you flirted with the bartender and now you can never go there again. BUT THEY HAVE CHEESECAKE. you can't go there, you will look like a stalker idiot. that place is off the list for sure. besides, it's super popular and they'll be packed. MAYBE I CAN JUST DRIVE BY... no. off the list. pick something else. what about that tavern you like? it's super chill and shouldn't be too packed. but they don't have food. popcorn and beer = drunk. you don't want to be a drunk idiot on a thursday night. you have to work tomorrow. what about the bar by browne's addition? they have really good food and you haven't made yourself look like an idiot there yet. but that's so far away. hmm. is there anything up north? not really. just stay home. there's a beer in the fridge. you can have one beer and go to bed early. OH MY GOD THE FOOD SHOVING IN THE FACE. ok. you need to get out of here. HOW ABOUT THIS. just leave the house. your order should be in at the mall, you can pick that up, get a quick manicure, then decide where to get food. just get out of the house. just out. it's a start. we'll sort out the rest later.

8:30, the mall: ok. you did it. you're out of the house. you picked up your order. NOW MAKE SURE YOU WEAR THE CLOTHES YOU BOUGHT YOU DOPE. cute boot socks don't look cute in a drawer. just wear the dress you planned with the boots and the cute socks. you'll be fine. and you got your nails done. see. the outside isn't such a bad place. the mall is nice and quiet. now food. you're starving. you need food. NO, you can't get drive thru and go home. you're out, stay out. ok...well, maybe that bartender isn't working and you can get chips and guac and cheesecake. it will still be busy, maybe just a drive by and see how packed it is. but chips and guac aren't going to fill you up, you need food. REAL FOOD. it's not that late. go to the bar in brownes addition. you like it there. they have good food. you can sit at the bar and blend in. you will be fine, i promise. i know it's out of the way, but you'll be fine. what's an extra mile. it's really not that far. not like driving out to the valley or the south hill. it's still downtown-ish. just go. they have a taco salad there. that sounds good. and they have liquor. sailor jerry is calling your name. and pretzel bites. yes. they have good food and you can blend in there and no one will know you. just drive there. don't worry about driving by the other place. you know it will be busy and you'll just feel awkward even driving by. just go to browne's addition. this isn't that hard. just go. you can park there, parking is free after 7. JUST GO. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY WOMAN, JUST GO THERE ALREADY.

and i went. and it was delightful. and i even chatted with a few people. and the bartender was adorable and she introduced me to sailor jerry and redbull which was delicious. and the thai chicken pizza was great and the pretzels were fucking delicious. and i did it. all the debate and the back and forth and the yelling at myself and trying to talk myself out of it. I DID IT.

and i'll keep pushing myself to do it. i'm sure it will be the same argument to some level each time. but i know it's necessary. there's other walls to stare at besides my own. there's other people to talk to besides myself. there's a whole big world out there. and i'm terrified of it. but not all of it is scary.

it's what i do

well, my child is still a child according to the court in whatcom county.

this is very good news.

assault 4 as a juvenile means a year probation, community service, counseling. assault 2 as an adult would have meant jail time and a permanent record.

so. good news.

i should be relieved. i should be worrying less.

but i'm not.

i'm still terrified. i'm still scared out of my fucking mind every single moment i allow myself to even flitter across the whole situation.

i'm trying to sort out still how it got to this point. i'm trying to sort out who this angry reckless stranger is that replaced my goofy artist. i'm trying to hold onto hope that this isn't that far off from "typical" teenager junk that everyone goes through to some degree and he'll come out of it in a year or two and his dad and i will laugh and drink whiskey and wait for him to have a teenager of his own (in 29 years) to put him through all the same but different trials.

i'm terrified that it isn't over yet.

and i'm terrified of my perspective.

and i'm terrified that no one can see my perspective but me.

they started my son on anti-depressants. i'm sure they work great for some people, but I HATE THEM. i especially hate them when they are prescribed to chemically alter a mind that is already in a state of constant chemical development and change.

i've tried anti-depressants exactly twice in my life. the first time i was put on a birth control that was for mood swings and depression. it took three days before i was literally balled up in a corner, under my kitchen table, SOBBING and ready to end my own life. luckily my own crazy prevented me from making any terrible decisions because the dishes hadn't been done and the bathroom hadn't been cleaned, so there's NO WAY i could take my own life and let someone else clean up my (literal) mess. as i was sobbing and trying to figure out what to do, my doctor called to follow up on the prescription and immediately told me to flush the remaining pills and NEVER take them again.

the second time i was on a prescription for a ten day trial which i kept track of via blog and it wasn't TERRIBLE only because it wasn't ANYTHING. it completely flat lined me. took away ALL emotion. no bad, but also no good. i was in a boring, grey fog of nothing. not a great experience.

i'm much more of the mindset to try everything else before medication. anti-depressants are mainly designed to boost serotonin in the brain. the trick is, the brain only controls/contains 20% of our body's serotonin. 80% comes from (basically) your gut. 80% can be controlled through diet, vitamin supplements, exercise. those all sound MUCH safer than handing out a medication that you have to wean onto, wean off of, and has a HIGH rate of increasing suicide risk in teenagers.

but, as usual, mom doesn't know what she's talking about. a pill is easier. it takes less effort and planning. instead of vitamin D and B and meditation, yoga, better food, just pop a pill (and risk an already emotionally unwell teenager becoming more unwell).

a teenager that was asking way too may questions about my brother who ended his life way too soon. a teenager that "felt like he's the same" as uncle steve. a teenager that has always taken the easy way out (no matter how hard i tried to make him work for things). a teenager that has proven he isn't making sound decisions right now.

i am scared to death that he won't take any of this seriously. i'm SO GRATEFUL that he doesn't have a permanent record, but i'm scared that he may think he got away with it. i'm scared that he doesn't understand the impact and repercussions of probation. i'm scared he'll think of counseling and a requirement and not a tool to help. i'm hopeful that community service will teach him something. i'm scared that he doesn't understand the side effects and possible influence of medication. i'm scared he'll only take them until he feels better and ignore that stopping can be so dangerous if not done the right way. i'm terrified that he'll feel worse and not talk to anyone and make the most horrible, life ending choice an angry teenager can make.

i'm terrified that i can't help him. i'm frustrated he won't listen to me. i'm heartbroken that he stopped talking to me and i can't tell him that i've been there and done that.

so i just worry. and try not to think about it. but that's all i think about. i'm a mom. it's what i do.

left of center

something is off. do you know that feeling? where you feel like things just aren't right, but you can't pinpoint WHAT it is to fix it?

i was doing really well for a while. daily vitamins. cooking at home. reading, writing. keeping up on the house. doing daily thankfulness/gratitude exercises.

then the power went out in a big storm. i feel like it hit my personal surge protector and things are just off kilter now.

i started dreaming again. 2 or three very vivid dreams every night. i haven't had a memorable dream in a LONG time. now i can barely sleep because they wake me up and as soon as i go back to sleep a new one starts.

i'm restless and stir crazy with no direction or grounding point. i'm just. off.

maybe it's the stress of everything with the oldest kiddo. i am so angry and frustrated and worried and gut sick and scared and worst of all, completely in the dark. information comes in at a trickle, i have no idea what is happening, i have no input on anything going on. i'm still banished to terrible mom punishment island and there's only coconut phones here.

i can't focus on anything at work. projects at home have come to a standstill again. i'm reclusive, withdrawn, hard core hermit mode.

i'm sure meditation would help but i just can't get there. i can sit on the couch and stare at netflix for a solid 12 hours (happy thanksgiving) but i can't sit up straight and meditate.

winter is always a hard time for me. i don't do well in the dark and cold. i'm do not have a ski bunny constitution. i'm more of a heated blanket, fireplace, book and booze constitution.

i'm still trying. i bought some adult coloring books to zone out on and managed to get a few chores done this weekend. i met up with an old friend last night for drinks and managed to work up the nerve to ask a guy out. i cooked dinner two nights in a row and even remembered the left overs for work.

tomorrow is court day for the angry teenager. they decide how/what they're going to charge him with (if anything). i don't know what to think of it. i have no idea what to expect, whichever way the chips falls. i don't know if it will be a stress relief or a start of a whole new tangle of string to unravel.

but for now i feel like a bad mash up of mary poppins and forrest gump. the winds are changing and i'm this damn feather wandering around caught in the cross currents and half of me wants to believe positive change is coming and part of me thinks que sera sera, and half of me is craving chocolates now and half of me still thinks peas and carrots is one of the worst frozen vegetable medley's of all time.

maybe i just need to bulk order cocktail parasols for my hot chocolate and pretend i'm on a tropical beach.

just like me

I HOPE YOU HAVE A KID JUST LIKE YOU.

anyone else besides me hear that growing up?

i know i wasn't an easy child. there's probably a million and twelve reasons why i was the way i was but i think, for me, it mostly boiled down to never belonging- didn't belong at home, didn't belong to a group of friends, was LOUSY at sports (softball, volleyball, swimming). i wasn't hard core enough for the theater group and wasn't interested in science or math clubs. and, of course, the only thing i REALLY wanted, was to fit in.

it didn't help that i had a mom that didn't know what to do with me or how to talk to me. my first period was me sitting in the bathroom reading the instructions in the tampon box because you just don't talk about things like that. my sex ed talk was...ooops. too late. time to make an obgyn appointment.

my mom started sticking me in counseling somewhere around jr high because i guess it was easier to (have insurance) pay someone to talk to me than try to do it herself.

i HATED counselors. there was the one i refused to talk to because he wore a red plaid shirt and tucked his jeans into his cowboy boots (seriously- you want me to talk about stuff with THAT guy?). there was the SUPER religious lady that didn't talk to me but had me fill out worksheets and packets. there was the gal i *thought* was good until years later when i realized she didn't even know who i was or remember even the most basic things about me (like how i had a baby at 17 and ended up working with her, TRAVELLING TOGETHER, talking to teens about teen pregnancy, and she didn't remember me. awesome.)

my least favorite though was our church youth pastor. he's the one that decided i needed to "...confess my sins (pregnancy) before the whole youth group so they heard it from me instead of the gossip in the school hallways." GREAT. let me admit to getting knocked up to a group of kids who already don't like me. NOT SCARRING AT ALL.

i think my favorite interaction with him was when he asked me: "What do you plan on being when you grow up?" in all my teenage glory i stubbornly answered: "I'M NOT GOING TO GROW UP..." and while he laughed at me, i FINISHED my thought: "...BECAUSE IF GROWING UP MEANS BEING LIKE YOU AND MAKING FUN OF KIDS AND NOT HELPING THEM I WANT NO PART IN IT." and he quickly stopped laughing and shortly thereafter quit "counseling" me and quit being a youth pastor and moved to Iowa and became a computer technician (true story).

i know i wasn't an easy kid. i got kicked out of high school for 30 days my freshman year for "having a weapon on campus." i had been threatened multiple times, IN FRONT OF TEACHERS (thanks alice gintz), in front of other students and had tried telling my parents, but no one listened, and i wasn't going down without a fight. NOT A GREAT DECISION, but what else do you do when people are threatening to kill you every. single. day? the "weapon" was my brother's pocket knife- maybe a 1.5" blade that i had NO IDEA what to do with, just seemed like something was better than nothing. as a result of my spectacular decision, i was shoved into MORE counseling, missed a month of school, was STILL bullied when i got back, and had the additional fun of being called "slash" for the next 3 years.

my junior and senior year i tried out for cheer leading because, according to my brother, "...theater is so LAME. why don't you try doing something less embarrassing?"

well, as small towns go: cheerleaders date football players, and when you date a football player OF COURSE you have sex, and then 9 months later you wonder if freezing your ass off in a skirt that was way too short for three months was worth it because now you're even MORE embarrassing as the little sister that got knocked up.

i was not an easy child.

well, fast forward 17 years and i have a child just. like. me.

on counseling: "real men deal with their own issues and don't need help." it's no plaid shirt and cowboy boots, but maybe he's not as fashion sensitive as i am. although, coming from his pre-teen self, that is a little more along the lines of my spectacular "i'm not going to grow up" (which i still, to this day, stand by).

on first periods: he didn't talk to me about his either. wait...what? he DID talk to me about his first crush, his first kiss, and we used to be able to talk about everything. that's changed in the last few years though.

on making spectacular life altering decisions at 17: well. his decision won't result in poopy diapers, but it sure a full load of shit to deal with.

i have a bit more respect for my mom dealing with me through my teen years now. well, maybe not dealing with me, but for not kicking me out of the house or making things worse when i was challenging. to this day she's still more of an avoider than a dealer. i'm more of a dealer than an avoider. generational changes and whatnot. i put her through grief. there's no question about it. but she helped advocate for me to be able to finish high school, she helped with daycare while i went to the community college, and let me live at home the first 9 months until i was able to get my first apartment.

i have more respect for my son's paternal grandparents now. they watched their son, a junior, end up in a not great situation and stood by him as he struggled a little longer than i did to sort things out. they were patient and supportive of me while he took his time settling into responsibility and to this day are..well..some of the most amazing, big hearted, least judgmental people i know.

and while watching my son struggle to find his way and make hard decisions and make a mess of things is KILLING ME, i can look and see that people before me have made it through difficult teenagers. i can't fix this for him. i can't make it all go away. i made my decisions and had to figure shit out real quick. he'll have to do the same.

i was not an easy child. he comes by it rightly.

but i made it through. and he'll make it through. he is just like me after all. we don't give up easily. 

statistical nightmare

i am a very shallow person.

i care a great deal what people think of me and what labels people attach not only to me, but my kids, our family, our life.

i spend an insane amount of time and money crafting what i want to be perceived as. i work really hard to not look sloppy or lazy when i go to work, the store, sports practices, parent teacher meetings. i work hard to have a nice house- mostly clean, nice furniture, decorated in my quirky personal taste but still pleasant for anyone who visits. i work hard to have a nice life.

and my kids.

good. heavens. there is no limit to what i would do for my kids. i have gone toe to toe with teachers, principals, coaches making sure my kids aren't labeled or treated differently. i've battled my own kids to make sure they know how to behave, how to be polite. i've all but drug them into the shower to make sure they aren't the smelly kid in class. i put extra effort into snack days to make sure we have the "good" snacks. i made sure they had nice clothes (not name brand, but nice, none the less). i've made sure they were able to participate in sports, have friends over. i've sat through so. many. conferences and open houses and band concerts. i've volunteered in the classroom and on field trips. i want my kids to be smart and successful and decent contributing members of society.

i feel like i have, and will forever be battling the stigma and statistics of being a teen mom. i made it a point to go to college with a baby on my hip because he deserved a mom that could provide a good life. i fought so hard to get off public assistance (daycare and food stamps) after college and again after my divorce (housing assistance and food stamps (again)). i fought to leave an abusive marriage because i didn't want that life or example for my kids. i have worked so hard to not be the failure and drain on society that is expected from someone who "had a baby while still a baby."

and yet here i am, 17 years into it, becoming a grim statistic.and it's killing me on so many different levels.

last monday my son was arrested.

my 17 year old kid spent a night in juvy for assaulting his dad. he will appear before a judge in a few weeks and there is the possibility that they will charge him with assault 2 as an adult due to his age (he would probably be 18 by the time it went to a jury) and the severity of the assault. that's a felony.

that's his adult life on the line. that's every college application, every job application. that's strike one on the three strike law.

he's a junior in high school, opting into running start for now. he still has a full year left before he graduates. what would it look like to have a felony before you graduate? how would it impact his education? he is SMART. incredibly smart. he could have any career he wants. but not with a felony on his record.

he is SO ANGRY and mean. he has been for years. that's why he doesn't live with me any more. he has refused help, counseling, reason. he has wallowed in his anger for years letting it get stronger and increasingly mean and violent. he brags about threatening and intimidating kids at school. he thinks vandalism is funny. he took a few swings at me in the past, and now not only took a swing at but connected with his dad resulting in serious injury.

everything i've worked so hard for feels like it's slipping away. and it sounds selfish and petty, but I DON'T WANT TO BE THE TEEN MOM OF A FELON. i don't want us to become another statistic: a single mom with a kid that's "in the system." i don't want to be a failure. i don't want him to be a failure.

i don't know how to help him. he's finally agreed to counseling. whether to avoid jail or to actually get help remains to be seen. i hope, with everything i have, it's to get help and resolve his anger and remove the violence and urge to settle things with his fists. he HAS to learn that he can't act this way. he can't start swinging in a bar. he can't start swinging at a boss. he REALLY can NEVER start swinging at a girlfriend or spouse.

and here's where it gets SUPER shallow and petty:

i don't want to feel like trash but that's all i feel like right now. i feel like i should be living in stained, faded, holey "pink" sweats, a smoke saturated worn out oversized hoodie, stained and worn out uggs (knock off brand of course), living in a trailer park in a trailer that has buckets strategically placed on rainy days, where keeping the lights on or groceries in the cupboard is an either or, not a both. i should be driving a car that you have to start with a screwdriver, have a snot nosed baby stuck in a playpen crying all day long while i finish smoking pack 22 of american spirits while i watch soap operas and yell at husband number 17  to quit scratching his belly button and get a damn job already. AND I KNOW THAT'S SUPER JUDGMENTAL AND STEREOTYPICAL AND MEAN.

i had a date scheduled for last monday before all this happened. i got the call monday night as i was getting ready and decided that since there was nothing i could do across the state, i may as well go ahead with the date. i was on the phone with my brother discussing appearances and charges and what all the legal jibberish means as i sat in the mcdonalds parking lot waiting to go in and meet the poor date guy. i probably should have cancelled, but i didn't want to be a flake. so in i went, and tried to take a quick moment to pull myself together. didn't work so well. i ended up telling poor date guy: "...give me just a second, trying to get in the right head space, didn't want to cancel on you, but just found out my son has been arrested."

GREAT START TO A DATE.

awesome. not only a chick with kids, but a chick with kids IN JAIL. gee, why haven't i heard from him again?

I KNOW. I SHOULD BE MORE WORRIED ABOUT MY KID THAN MY DATING LIFE. I FULLY ADMIT TO BEING A HORRIBLE PERSON.

of course, when it rains, it pours, at the same time all this is happening, the small child decides it's time to test boundaries too. he made a stupid comment in wood shop class, a girl went home and repeated it to her dad, dad went to the superintendent of the school district and wanted to press sexual harassment charges against my son (incident went something like this: they're making wooden c02 cars to race: girl: i know what you're going to use the c02 hole for. my kid: we know what you're going to use your dildo car for."). so my son gets 2 days in-school-intervention and has to change his whole school schedule so he won't have any more classes with the girl. he just got done with a week of lunch detention for being caught in the middle of a fight (that he was trying to break up). he's also failing science.

so one kid in jail, one kid in school detention of one form or another.

SUPER SUCCESSFUL PARENTING MOMENT. frame that fucking snapshot and put it on the fridge.

i am not a bad mom. i am not a bad person. i don't want either of my kids to be delinquents. or felons. or failures. we have some hard days ahead. there will be parent teacher meetings and court appearances and hard decisions and consequences all around. but, in the mean time, please don't think poorly of me. please don't label me the single teen mom statistic. please don't judge us too harshly.