Thursday, October 8, 2009

Dating

It's been two months since I rejoined the dating site. I've met some decent people, but none that I can really see having a significant relationship. I think I truly did some inner soul searching during and after the last relationship and I'm no longer willing or interested in investing time into making a relationship work if it isn't what I want. I don't have to prove anything to anyone, more importantly to myself. I don't have to date everyone I meet. I don't have to meet everyone I talk with.

Last weekend was the first weekend that I holed up in my house and only left to go to the store and run errands. My weekend started at 11p.m. on Friday night when I got home from work. I had just spent 7 HOURS with a single family. One family. I was talked out and exhausted.

For the betterment of society, I choose to hole myself in my house on Saturday. I wasn't being nice. I had little patience for the rude and incompetent. I was proud of myself for acknowledging that I shouldn't leave the house, but in likelihood it may have been better for me to get out of the house and enjoy. It wasn't for a lack of offers, just none that I wanted. I watched a few movies. I avoided housework. I avoided responsibility. I avoided socialization. I reveled in doing nothing.

I haven't met anyone in person in a few weeks from the site. Late last week I was completely creeped out that one person had three different profiles and responded to one of my emails from another account. I emailed him to mention his games and blocked his profiles. And then...he found me on Facebook from my first name and contacted me there to tell me that he wouldn't normally do so, but he thought that I was worth the effort. What?

Seriously, people need to understand NO. He wasn't worth the effort, or I wouldn't have blocked him. Immediately after receiving that email on FB, thoughts of my ex-husband's words of my naivete and his anticipated reading about me carved into pieces in an abandoned car trunk flooded my mind. What in the world was I doing?

Why wasn't I born with a common name? I have considered the idea of using a different name, but then I feel as if I'm lying and being deceptive. Often times I don't give my name at all. But if I'm that easy to locate, how do I assure my own safety and that of my son? Why can't people just all be normal and get along?

I had been conversing with someone out of the state. Of course those that know me know I don't like long distance. He tried to convince me that the distance shouldn't be an issue to not date him. He lectured me on my bad dating habits. When I offered to meet him as I was out of town for work and closer to where he lived, he wasn't able to make it work. I was OK with that. He wanted me to meet him the day before - but I couldn't because of parenting responsibilities. Childless he lectured about how parents shouldn't give kids choices. I was never mad at him. I wasn't angry. There were just too many differences between he and I. I told him good luck and I wished him the best. And then...he got angry. He called me CRAZY and INSECURE. He told me that I had anger issues and was taking them out on him. WHAT?

So do tell me, why is it that I consider the option of dating online? Maybe in this case, for once in my life, I truly am CRAZY & INSANE!

Bully & My Son

It's been a while since I blogged. I think like most fellow bloggers that I follow, whether it's the weather or personal issues, everyone seems to be in a fog. I question if anything is really worth blogging about. Who really cares anyway? Do I even care?

LL and I were talking the other day and she was tired of my lava cake post. I want to post something of meaning, I really do. But I feel like I'm just going through the motions. So I shall move on...

The other night as I tucked my son into bed, I noticed a bruise on his right shoulder. I hadn't noticed it before. Was I negligent? Have I been to busy to notice the small things? Have I been to wrapped up in...in what? to notice another bruise on my son? Granted it's middle of soccer season and he's a twelve year old active boy. What's another bruise in the scheme of things?

I inquired as to his bruise. Immediately his eyes misted. I pleaded with him to not cry as I felt that similar wetness seeping into my eyes. Please don't cry. Please don't let it be bad. Please don't make me be a bad mother. A mother who overlooked or missed something that was very important. Please. I tried to look away so that he would think that I was strong. Strong for him. He assured me he wasn't crying, but he and I know otherwise.

We are alike. We are one in the same. We try to be tough. We try to be strong. But, we are human. We have feelings and we have a heart of gold. And we can be hurt. We are hurt.

The bruise...a week old. A classmate, a bully had punched him in the arm. I asked if it was in fun. He questioned me as to whether or not he would have bruised if it was a punch out of fun. As a matter of fact, in the fleeting moment I recalled my Jr. High days when I pinched and punched and left bruises on boys. It wasn't out of affection, it was out of reciprocation - they taunted me, I reacted. Maybe they liked me, maybe they didn't. But his punch was from a former "friend" from years ago.

My heart ached for my son. How do I stop the pain? How do I protect him without being an overbearing mother? Do I confront this boy's mother, a woman whom I really don't like, almost loathe? Do I approach the school personnel?

My son said that he avoids him at all times now. He hasn't had any contact with him in the past week since it happened. He assured me that he didn't cry when it happened - and I cried even more for him, a pit in the bottom of my stomach. A pit that holds all the aches and pains of peer pressure and growing up and parenting. I can't fix everything for him. But I will always hold his pain, deep within me, and hope that he becomes a better and stronger person than bullies who are weak.

As I tucked my son in that night, I squeezed him harder, kissed him more and told him how much I love him. If only I could do more...