Romance Slow Down

The last time Old Flame came to visit, we had such a lovely time. He picked me up at work and it was admittedly a little awkward at first. He gave me a kiss when I first got in the car, which felt strange since we were right outside my work. Not that I minded, I just couldn't really be physically affectionate in return. So when we parked in front of my building, I paused by the trunk of the car to give him another opportunity to initiate affection. This time, it seemed like he was the one that wasn't in the moment -- he dropped a peck on my lips but his attention was clearly focused on getting his luggage inside. No matter.

We went inside and were immediately consumed by playing with Calliope and Eleanor. I found it hard to look at him while I played with them. It's just that he and Calliope are from such different parts of my life. He is from my out of state party weekends. And she, of course, is keeper of my heart. But not, necessarily, 100% of attention.

He seemed to enjoy playing with them, though he's clearly attuned to playing with his six year old daughter, not two year olds. He was pointing out the words on the page as he read to them, and even spelled out a work. Calliope, especially, quickly bored of his slow pace and crawled away. For the next book, the girls brought it to me so that he didn't have a chance to read to them.

After about thirty minutes, Eleanor's mother and grandmother arrived, as well as our new-ish babysitter, Catherine. Old Flame and fooled around with my banjo for a while -- Calliope had considerately "re-tuned" it when I foolishly left the banjo on her bedroom floor for a few minutes. Silly me, I hadn't heard any strumming so I assumed she had ignored the fascinating musical instrument lying within reach. I won't make that mistake again.

Eventually we gave up on tuning the banjo and left. We enjoyed a long but beautiful fall walk to a new restaurant I'd been wanting to try. I carefully kept my hands jammed in my pockets. It was easier to pre-empt any possibility of hand holding than to reach for his hand and feel rejected if he got tired of holding it. It's possible that this is not an entirely healthy approach to relationships.

The restaurant was a charming little French bistro with candles and and music playing softly, and swilling a glass of red wine loosened me up nicely. The conversation flowed wonderfully and there was lots of laughing, and on my part, some blushing, too. Especially when he cupped his hands around his lips and mouthed "you're awesome."

Following a lovely moonlit streetlight illuminated walk home through the fall air, I paid the babysitter and sent her on her way. As he stretched out his arms to me, I felt a sort of shock. I had forgotten that with all the conversation, there was also another element to our relationship. Despite the flirting, the physical element wasn't on my mind.

After an exciting trip to the kitchen for some creative (and rewarding) physical endeavors, with his arms around me, he asked, "Do you remember what I told you in August?" (When, as I was boarding a bus to come home, he rushed out of the bus station to say, "I love you, you know." I had wordlessly smiled and waved goodbye.)

I nodded.

"What did I say?"

I wordlessly buried my face in his chest and shook my head as I leaned against him.

"I still feel that way."

A pause as I thought about how to respond. And then I said, "Look, I like you to. I've always had feelings for you. Since I met you seven years ago. But I'm scared of getting hurt. Scared of this being about Her, and your daughter. I don't want to be your rebound girl."

"All I meant is that I really like you."

"Oh. Okay. Did that sound stupid, what I just said? Did I read too much into what you said?"

"No, that makes sense. I understand what you said. You should feel able to say whatever is on your mind."

"Well cool. In that case. Can you do me a favor? If you say you're going to call, or I ask you to call by a certain time, can you make sure to call? Or else text me to let me know that you can't call? You don't have to give me a reason. Just tell me that something came up."

"Sure. You need that, eh?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm a planner. I just need to know what's happening or else I get stressed out."

"Okay."

From there we went into my bedroom and further enjoyable activities ensued. We enjoyed a cozy, if somewhat sleepless night together (I don't sleep well with another person in my bed) before he got up at 4:30 am and left at 5:30 am to get on the road to Connecticut.

After that conversation, and enjoying our visit together so much, I started to have very intimate feelings for him. Started to think about using "the L word" (the other L word), even. We texted and emailed a couple times over the next few days. Initiated by me. By Thursday, three days after our visit, I wanted to talk to him again, to maintain that intimate feeling that I had had on Monday.

He sent a text message first, so I texted back "Are you free to talk?"

A few minutes later he wrote, "Not now. About to read stories [with his daughter -- he had gotten home to her that night]."

Ninety minutes (or so) later, he wrote back, "she's almost ready to sleep. Can you talk tomorrow afternoon?"

I responded, "Sure. Between 3-4 pm is good for me."

I went to sleep, a little disappointed but not overly worried about it.

He never called the next afternoon. By 4 pm, I was seething. I knew he was leaving that afternoon for a camping trip with his daughter and a group of friends (indeed, he had invited Calliope and me along... I demurred. I'm nowhere near ready to meet his daughter.) So I knew I likely wouldn't hear from him all weekend.

It was even slightly worse than that. I didn't hear from him until Monday evening. When he texted to ask if I was home and free to talk.

Turns out he was with his daughter through Sunday night, and left very early Monday morning.

But still, he could've sent me a text on Friday afternoon. Or on Sunday, when he returned from camping. Or at any point during the camping trip, if there was service there.

I had explained that it was important to me. And he apparently didn't care. And he didn't even apologize or acknowledge the missed phone date.

I was angry over the weekend, but by Monday, I was over it. And over him. I can't be invested in a person that can't be considerate enough to send a short text message to cancel our phone date.

But then I talked to my two close girlfriends that know him, and know me very, very well. And they both asked, "can't you just chill out? and just enjoy sex without strings attached?"

And after talking to them, I realized that yes, I thought I could.

And so that is where I am. Trying to just enjoy the occasional opportunity for sex and companionship. Without thinking about the future. Without worrying about how we would combine our families, or if he would be willing to move to NYC versus my moving to DC, worrying about how Calliope would be impacted. I'm just here, in the present.

Wishing it was Friday already because I'm ready for some more extracurricular activities.

And happy, again.

And for the record, he texted me on Friday and asked me to call, and I did, once I finally finished what I was doing and got around to checking my text messages. And we had a nice chat, but I was reserved. Though friendly.

And now my brother has just met someone that he says is amazing. That sounds like "The One." Who is a single mom, and has a young son. And I'm a little wistful. Because letting my heart open up a crack has made me realize that, in an ideal world, it could be nice to have a partner. But in the real world, I've realized that opening my heart up only makes me vulnerable.

A Better Weekend

Thursday night, Calliope slept thirteen hours. And then she took a three hour nap on Friday afternoon.

And this weekend, she's been perfectly charming. Reminding me that once again, it's all about sleep. Having a well rested child is the secret to world peace, more or less.

I'm so relieved to be besotted with my little girl again.

I'm trying to take Tiara's advice, and to choose my battles. Once I put my foot down, I can't go back, but what I can do is choose to say "yes" more often. And to be more sympathetic to her frustration.

So tonight, near bedtime, she started whining from the living room, and saying "help!" in an angry voice. Rather than getting frustrated, or trying to jolly her out of it, I left what I was doing in the kitchen and joined her in the living room, and said sympathetically, "Oh, you're having trouble with the puzzle. Would you like some help?"

She gratefully answered "yes," and with a little encouragement to counter her fatigue, she was able to complete the puzzle successfully. Then we went to get ready for bed.

Of course then we had a minor meltdown because I refused to let her wear the Ergo doll carrier to bed. But she didn't have a full on meltdown. And after a couple of time outs in the last month, she no longer kicks me, even when she's lying on the floor in front of me while I change her into pajamas. So this time she just flapped her hands and whimpered like an infant. This, I can deal with.

Yesterday we went to the Queens Farm Museum with Amy, Seth, and Eleanor. Eleanor was very whiny and I was pleased to have the well behaved child, for once! Apart from the pumpkin throwing incident, which resulted in Calliope being strapped to my back in the baby carrier, with the pumpkins safely out of reach.

Our new babysitter, Catherine, came by after nap time and watched Calliope while I went out for a birthday dinner. I was very pleased that Calliope went to Catherine readily. Catherine will be staying with Calliope for my upcoming weekend away in DC, so I'm grateful that Calliope seems comfortable with Catherine already. That will make my weekend away a lot more relaxing for everyone.

Two Is Tough

Two, or twenty-five months anyway, is proving a little tough.

We are doing lots of limit testing.

First thing when I walk in the door with my bike, Calliope and Eleanor come running to meet me. Eleanor chirps excitedly, "Hi Abby!" while Calliope takes one look at me and starts emitting high pitched screeches. Which she knows I hate.

I try to ignore this and distract them by peppering them with questions.

A few days ago they were playing with the toy kitchen. I showed them how to rotate the plate inside the toy microwave to make it rotate. They were doing rather well taking turns, without instruction from me, when Calliope started tugging on Eleanor's dress and making moves to push her.

I cautioned her, "Calliope, we don't push. Please let go of Eleanor's dress."

She looked at me with callous disregard, and continued tugging on Eleanor.

"C'mon Calliope. Let's take a break." I took her hand and she willingly followed me to the living room to the Take A Break Chair. I put her in the chair, and sat down right in front of the chair with my back to her. She slid out of the chair once, but otherwise didn't fight me.

After a minute, I said, "okay, are you ready to play now?"

She shook her head and pressed her face into the chair cushions. And there she stayed for the next five minutes, ignoring my invitations to come play with Eleanor and me. Finally Eleanor and I went to Calliope's room and the sound of stories being read to eventually lulled her out of the chair to join us.

She even asks for time outs! My weird child.

Today, getting her ready for a nap, I asked if she wanted to wear socks. She refused to answer. After asking several times, I said, "I'm going to count to three, and then Mommy is going to decide for you."

I counted to three, she ignored me, and then I started to put on one of two pairs of socks lying out. They were mostly on when she started crying, "no! red ones!".

Okay, fine. You wouldn't even answer me before, but I don't feel like having a battle, so I will take off the white socks and put on the red ones. Anything to avoid (another) meltdown.

You guessed it. Cue meltdown. "No! White ones!"

I put my sobbing child, complete with red socks, into her crib.

Sigh.

She does things like climb onto the end tables, then give me a devilish look. As if to make sure Mommy is paying attention to the fact that she is breaking the rules.

Sometimes she stands on her chair in the kitchen and asks brightly, "Sit down please?"

To which I wearily reply, "Yes, Calliope. Sit down please."

I love my child, but my god, these daily exchanges are wearing me out. I know I've been endlessly lucky with her, so I suppose I have no right to complain.

But I'm really hoping my nicely compliant child will return someday. Surely it's not like this forever?

In Which I Am... Happy

This is the start of my third week back at work, though only my second week with students in the building.

Unlike a teacher, my year starts off slowly, as students usually don't get sick immediately upon returning to school. So I've been averaging about five patients a day.

I was nervous to return to work, but after a two week staycation with Calliope (and no friends around to entertain us), I was more than ready for a break from full time parenting. I adore my child... but I treasure the time more when I'm not with her constantly.

I've felt badly the last few years, while pregnant and then while caring for an infant and young toddler, that I wasn't more "present" at work. So I made a plan to be more organized and proactive at work, in hopes that greater engagement would increase my enjoyment. So far, it's working! I'm really happy at work.

And I'm really happy at home. Calliope is a delight. More on her progress in her 25 month post, but suffice it to say, she's a delight. Her language is growing by leaps and bounds and she's just a lovely little person. Most of the time, anyway.

This weekend, her little friend Eleanor started potty training. And her parents are constantly asking her, "Eleanor, do you need to go potty?"

Naturally, she responds, "No!" every time.

So I encouraged them to only schedule potty time once every one to two hours, and to stop asking. And when they decided that Eleanor needed to sit on the potty (as opposed to asking) and we were around, I asked Calliope if she would come sit on the potty too, to keep Eleanor company. And she agreeably lowered her pants -- she can lower and raise her own pants! -- and sat down companionably with Eleanor. And as a result, Eleanor would pee on the potty, every time.

What a wonderful friend, eh?

I've been going out more the last few weeks. My best friend (an ex-boyfriend from many years ago) pays for babysitting and dinner, so the only impediment to plans in the past was my not wanting to miss my girl, or my sleep. Now, I'm willing to miss bedtime now and then. And as I go out more regularly, Calliope seems to have an easier time with it, and goes to sleep more quickly.

We had dinner last night, and I loved catching up on adult conversation. And seeing an infant across the restaurant, and thinking, "I'm so glad I don't have a baby in my arms, and that I don't have to spend the whole meal waiting for things to fall apart."

I'm happy about my very slowly blossoming romance. I wouldn't say that we are dating. I'd say we like each other, and we are taking it very slow. We talk every few nights, and it's nice. I'm busy with my life. And I'm safeguarding my heart, as much as I can. I'll see him again in mid-October, and I'm mostly glad it won't be sooner. I'm trying to keep from getting too attached until his divorce is finalized. He hope that will be by the end of 2013, but I'm not holding my breath. I know that delays are incredibly common.

And I think we won't know if we even like each other enough to pursue being a couple until he's wrapped things up with his marriage. And that the tumult of a divorce could make him more needy, and that I need to be careful to not mistake that for a genuine interest in me. So I'm trying to be cautious, and I'm glad he seems to be doing the same, since my self restraint is historically not that great.

A fellow SMC is giving me banjo lessons via Skype and I'm enjoying that a lot, too. It's slow going but I love that I have this interest I'm pursuing that has nothing to do with anyone else but me.

I'm still working out, and gradually trying to work Insanity workouts into my back to school routine. I started weaning myself off lazy mornings the week before I returned to work, and started setting an alarm clock. It was painful. But I'm so grateful I was dragging around at home instead of waiting to do it at work. So now I have to learn to get up even earlier to work out before work. I've done it a couple of time so far, including this morning, but I'm not leaving myself quite enough time to finish. I haven't yet done Insanity and a bike commute on the same day.

So many great things.

The only thing that's bothering me is increasing doubts about wanting to interrupt my happy new equilibrium with T42. But that's another post for another day.

And as for my mom... well, I guess I've reached equilibrium with that for the time being as well. Her abscess is flaring up again, so more delays with chemotherapy. So we are just waiting.

Feeling Better Today

As expected, I'm much better today. It just seems to take me a day to acclimate to bad news.

Work is gradually picking up, which is good. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf at work this year, being proactive and extra organized, and so far, it's making me enjoy work more. I think there's also something about leaving a feisty, talkative two year old at home that feels a lot easier than leaving a tiny infant or dimpled crawling baby. Calliope's more ready to be out in the world now, and so am I.

This was a good release for crying tonight: a Home Depot marriage proposal (one man to another).

Old Flame texted me last night that he was free to talk, so about a half an hour later, once I was safely in a cab on my way home from dinner, I called him. We chatted briefly and then I said, "you know how you said I was welcome to ask questions about your divorce? Well, I wanted to ask where you were at with it now."

I guess I should've been more specific and asked, "what's your timeline?" I eventually got that question answered, but also heard some ranting about the ex. (Can she even fairly be called the ex?). I have to figure out a way to very politely cut him off. I was worried about hurting his feelings if I interrupted mid-stream. But I really don't enjoy being exposed to that sort of venom. Even if it's not directed at me, it's still ugly.

After a few minutes he stopped, and I sort of gently reiterated that I'm not a good person for him to process with. And then he said, "my therapist says I have to make peace with the fact that I will probably never know the reason that she ended things."

So I'm glad he is still talking to the therapist.

I'm definitely going to DC for the Red Dress Run... and my best friend -- I went to the fancy schmancy work dinner with him last night at the Big Boss's house in NJ -- offered to pay for a weekend of babysitting so I don't have to bring Calliope along!

Sweet! Much more of a break this way, and also, I think it wouldn't hurt to limit her contact with Old Flame. Not that I'm worried about her getting attached, but I'm worried about him getting overly attached. I don't need that complication.

I'm feeling pretty solid about the whole thing. He said he hopes to have the divorce finalized by the end of 2013. I have no idea if that is realistic. I have a feeling it might not be, but I'm not sweating it too much. Regardless, my goal now is to just keep things light until the divorce is finalized. Ideally, to not even talk about being in a relationship until after that happens. If he brings it up, then so be it, but I'm not going to encourage it.

And then, once the divorce is finalized, then we can both begin to see just how much we even like each other. It may turn out to just be a fun flirtation and attraction and not a lot more. Time will tell.

It Turns Out That Maybe You Can't Just Refuse To Be Sad

I was feeling cranky and then my friend Stephen stopped by my office. He's a teacher, and he's become a dear, if offbeat, friend. Along with his wife and son. He brought me leftovers 'most every day when my Dad was sick and dying, especially when I commented that sometimes the thought of going grocery shopping was just too overwhelming.

So I mentioned the bad news, and added, "So I guess I'll be expecting a lot more home cooked meals, eh?"

He nodded solemnly as the tears welled up.

I don't want to go through this again.

I know I just have to get through today. I have a car service picking me up at 4 pm and transporting me to NJ where I will be my friend's date for his work shindig. This is my other best friend, Scott, my (long ago) ex boyfriend. He's my family, too, and being with him will be nice. Though being with his boss and the New Board Member won't be relaxing. Then we will have a nice ride home together.

I know my pattern now. I just have to survive today and I will wake up composed again tomorrow.

It's just, I thought I could get through this without being sad like this. By just refusing to feel sad.

It doesn't seem to work that way.

I'm So Mad

I know, not exactly the words that reach you and grab you and make you want to read a post.

But my mom's cancer has returned. She has enlarged lymph nodes in her abdomen. Already.

She's had abscesses since her surgery which just won't seem to finish healing. And can't start chemotherapy until they are healed.

Her oncologist says that a few weeks one way or the other won't make a difference. And that the chemo will beat back the cancer... for a while. I gather she might even have years to live. (Though I doubt that.) But it will definitely get her.

Unless, of course, she gets taken by something else in the meantime.

I've lost a parent already.

It sucked.

I don't want to do this again.

Given that I don't have an option, I'm trying to just steel knuckle my way through. But that's not helping today.

I don't want to do this. I don't want Calliope and my family to get even smaller.

So I'm really mad. (And a little sad, too, underneath.)