D.I.Y.

Getting To Know You?!

2013-05-31T01:38:54Z

Have you ever done one of those personality profiles? Read this one...

Champions tend to be the most outgoing of the Idealists, you probably can't wait to tell others about the extraordinary - and even ordinary - things that you do. In fact, others may know you as a tireless talker. However, you're not simply a gossip running off at the mouth or even just a storyteller. On the contrary, you may tend to speak or write in the hope of either revealing some truth about human experiences or motivating others with your convictions. You have a strong drive to speak out on issues and events.

Hmm. Sound familiar? Sounds like a blogger.

Because of your desire to experience a wide variety of adventures and life experiences and your attraction toward an ideal, you may find it difficult to settle on one partner for a long period of time. You may enjoy many casual relationships, while still dreaming of finding the ideal 'soul mate'.

Really.

People like you often see life as an exciting drama filled with possibilities. As a result, you usually like to remain in the mix rather than risk letting meaningful events or fascinating people pass you by.

You don't say.

Well. Brace yourself - this isn't mine. If you ditched the 'soul mate' term, it's a whole lot of me. But this is Will's donor. This is information I got AFTER Will arrived. I went back and read it after I wrote the blog on Will's chattering the other day. I seemed to remember that his donor's personality profile mentioned that, and it did.

Then I read the rest and it felt like I was reading my on-line dating profile. It's like the Seinfeld episode where he met the female version of himself.

At least I know Will comes by his verbal diarrhea honestly. Both sides of his genetic makeup are big talkers. Both of us want to experience everything and keep having adventures. Both of us want to be loved.

It's interesting to me because part of the reason I picked this donor was for all the things that he was that I wasn't. He's artistic. He's musical. He has olive skin. But now when I go back and read his information, maybe I chose him because we are really similar.

Except the lips. Oh man, if I ever get to meet him, the first thing I'll thank him for is lips.

Let Me Ask You a Question. Or 500.

2013-05-28T15:58:02Z

Let me ask you a question. How many questions a day do you think a four year old asks??

Well I googled it. Generally the answers ranged from 425 to 500. Ummm. Is that before 7am? Honestly. My life is a series of questions now. Each question starts with 'Mommy. Did you know' or 'Mommy, Can I ask you a question?' Every thing out of his mouth starts with Mommy.

Am I complaining? Sort of. I'm thankful that he's inquisitive. I'm blessed that I have a little person who calls me Mommy. But I'd be a flat out liar if I said I don't want to buy some earplugs and just guess at the answers a solid 70% of the time. It reminds me of when my grandmother was at her high point of her dementia and I would tune her out and just nod or shake my head.

The majority of his questions are more stats posed as questions.

Mommy, did you know...

that Hannukah lasts for 8 days and Christmas is just one because we eat turkey and Hannuakah people don't?

that a person could be a limo driver or a scientist when they get older?

my friend X got sent to the office today because she wasn't paying attention and it's very, very important to always pay attention.

It's an ongoing verbal diarrhea And it's another one of those moments where I really wish my mother was here so I could apologize to her. Because, I know where he gets this from. Me. I never shut up as a kid. EVER. People would say I'm still like that. So from his donor, he gets big beautiful lips and a happy nature. From me, he gets a curiosity about public washrooms and a continuous stream of dialogue.

Today I called him Yappy McYapperson and he asked why. (that's a question!). I said because you never ever stop talking. He smiled and said, "I know. I love to talk!!' "Mommy don't you love to talk?" AAAAAAAHHHHHHH.

What about you? Do you have a talker on your hands? (That was two questions).

*FYI - His mouth is closed here...and he didn't speak for about a minute. Paralyze the kid with fear, and you have silence!*

Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad!

2013-05-21T18:42:57Z

Just try to get that Meatloaf song out of your head now! Come on. Try it. I know. No luck.

So, in roughly 85 days, it's triathlon time. 85 DAYS! I'm actually excited. You know I've been biking for a year or so now, and I've added the swim in during the last month. Now that I have a bathing cap that doesn't cut off my brain flow and I figured out that I was wearing my goggles upside down (why yes, I am blonde), I'm loving swimming. Next up? The run. Hence the Two Out of Three ain't bad that I've been singing since buying all my running gear Saturday.

I'm terrified. Here is a brief history of my relationship with running.

1. Ten year-old Sara develops some freakishly long legs. Her gym teachers cheer! Have we got a 100m dash kid here or what. Sara enters the London Public School track meet and promptly trips over her own legs, like a newborn foal, and face plants. It remains unclear who cried more - Sara or the coaches who recognized that along with the legs, came some major un-coordination.

2. Fifteen year-old Sara meets all the bad ass chicks in her high school gym class during the daily runs. The girls were lagging behind hoping to grab a butt under the bridge by the Humber River. Sara was just lazy and had no interest in hacking out any lungs.

3. Sixteen year-old Sara realizes she looooves playing centre on the basketball team and gives up the forward position forever. Why would she choose to be manhandled by opposing 6"2 amazons from the other team? Because she realizes she only has to run from top of the key to top of the key. Perfect.

4. Thirty year-old Sara goes on Outward Bound mountain climbing trek. She successfully climbs a mountain with a pack on her back, spends 24 hours alone in the wilderness, scales a rock face. But when told she had to run a 10k to complete the program, she shrugs, says 'I'm good' and walks it.

5. Fourty-three year-old Sara agrees to run a 5k with the other UrbanMoms for breast cancer. She brings her adorable son along for the fun. He quickly turns non-adorable when he remarks, 'Mom, why is everyone else running and we're walking?'. No popsicle for you kid.

So suffice it to say I don't like running. I'm not good at it. I don't enjoy it. I dread it.

BUT. I will do it. Yes, Nike - I will just do it. (in my hideous new New Balance running shoes - sorry). I'm hoping that maybe I've grown up slightly and can shed my laziness and embrace the sweat, the sore knees, the red face and all that comes with running.

Any tips from you runners out there? Help....

Where Do You Find Good In The World?

2013-05-16T12:20:12Z

I'm in a weird state lately. Personally, I feel better than I ever have. But the world around me? It just seems like one thing after the other is destroying my faith in humanity.

Sandy Hook

Boston Bombing

Cleveland Kidnappings

Tim Bosma

News of every one of these events has made me want to run to Will's daycare, pick him up, smother him with love and move to a bunker, somewhere in the middle of Ancient Egypt (it's the only way I'd get him there) and never leave. I did run to him after Sandy Hook but I stopped before the bunker.

Each of these tragedies, and millions of others that happen every day around the globe, can slowly chip away at you. How can this happen? Why does this happen to good people? To children? To innocent young fathers?

Last week, I was at the swimming pool. It's a fascinating culture over there. In the mornings, it's pretty much 30 retirees and 10 'younger' people - along with one man who swims along the bottom of the pool, but that's another story. I've been watching these women for a few weeks, and they've now included me in their conversations, which I adore.

As great as the chit chat is, I prefer to watch the kindness unfold among them. One woman, Mary, you can tell she was a kick ass athlete back in the day. She talks about her youth with a gleam in her eye. Her travels, her gardening, her swimming. But she moves slowly now. In the showers, one of the young woman will take Mary's scrub brush and help her with her back. Then as everyone is changing, one of the other women gives Mary a little back massage to soothe her soreness.

It reminds me of when I used to give my grandmother hand and feet massages and she would purr. She couldn't hear herself, but the brief relief it gave her and the closeness to another person took her out of her pain. If only for a moment.

It's hard to put into words but when I leave the pool and I think about Mary and her friends, I'm more hopeful for Will and for me. I believe that the for the most part people are good. And kind.

I'm going to remember that for every lunatic that kills an innocent man for their car, there are hundreds doing simple, random acts of kindness. This is what I need to focus on to keep Will out of a bunker and me from going out of my mind!

Where do you find the good in this world???

*Not her real name. I called her Mary because she reminds me SO much of my Aunt Mary, who died a couple of years ago at 101!

Coach's Corner

2013-05-14T13:48:15Z

Will started soccer yesterday. We did a soccer skills thing when he was three, and frankly I'm amazed that he remembered any of it. We went on Sunday and got his shin pads and a pair of cleats (because they were $9.99 and adorable). He's been really excited.

Yesterday morning, we woke up and I told him that I was his team's assistant coach. Oh the look. I won't soon forget that look. Sheer joy. Disbelief. Awesomeness.

Unfortunately, I said 'assistant coach' and he heard 'my mommy gets to hang out with me through the whole game'.

Wait back up. He's playing in Timbits soccer. His team name? The Boston Creamers. Listen, you can call them the Boston Creamers all you want...but really, like me, you want to yell panty creamers. Admit it.

Anyway. We got our uniforms, our new balls and the 12 four year olds all gathered in a group. Our coach, who is lovely but very shy, 'allowed' me to take over. There was running, there was kicking, there was cheering, and there were big salty tears. From one kid.

One kid who was 'tired'. One kid who didn't want to play. One kid who stood on the sidelines with a scowl. All of this was the same kid. My kid.

Reflecting, I didn't handle it well. I was angry with him. And short. I took the time to make the other kids feel comfortable, make sure that they were happy and having fun and banished my kid to the sidelines with no one to comfort him.

It hit me as we were walking to the car after. We talked about it but I think he was embarrassed. He kept making jokes but didn't really want to talk about it. It took a giant ice cream cone and a talk about what coaches need to do to to get him to admit that he was sad that I was helping all the other kids.

I'm stuck on this one though. I'm not sure how it will get better. Maybe I need to make sure I bring someone with me, so he has his own 'parent' cheering on the side? Maybe I need to not volunteer to be a freaking coach next time? I'm not sure. Any ideas? I don't want his first experience with organized sports to suck because of this.

While we're at it, any ideas on how to not laugh every time I yell 'go get em creamers??"

Flashbacks From High School

2013-05-09T14:41:24Z

This Saturday is my 25th High School reunion. Nothing formal. Bar night. Excuse to drink too much and share memories from a quarter century ago. I feel like a 25 year-old so this is a bit hard to stomach.

One of my friends emailed and thanked me for organizing it. She remarked how it's funny how we just don't seem to change our roles. It's true. That was me in high school. And it remains me. The organizer. But it's amazing how I think back and I don't feel at all like that girl in high school except for that.

Remember The Breakfast Club? God. So definitive to my high school years. My friend Lynn and I could recite the entire movie, line by line. The ending is so true.

We really were ALL a part of each of these guys. Okay, maybe I didn't have much Bender in me but the rest? Totally. What about you? Do you see it now?

It's like Sex in the City was a few years ago and people were like 'which one are you'? I always said that I was a bit of all of them. (Except in university when I was admittedly way more like Samantha). Anyway.

Flipping through yearbooks gathering pictures for this has been hilarious. It's also been very freeing. I loved high school and have great memories from it. I have a ton of friends who I'm still in touch with and I've reconnected with people that I wasn't all that close with but we've found commonality as we age. I love it. I really do.

But back to the Breakfast Club. When I think about who I really was and my internal struggles in high school, I recognize that I was about 80% Ally Sheedy and just hid it really, really well. The insecurity, the social awkwardness. It comes flooding back when I think about. But they really are just memories now.

Driving to work, I was thinking about the past 25 years. Flashbacks of memories, good and bad. I can honestly say, without hesitation, this is the happiest I have ever been in my life. Right now. In 2013. That girl is behind me. Finally. Except for the organizing part (UGH!). I guess we have to keep playing some roles.

I'd only want to go back to high school to change my hair. God. Really? (But whoa do I remember this vest. I thought I was John McEnroe.)

What about you? Come on Breakfast Club with me. Which were you? (and while we're at....Sex in the City too).

How about a bonus Breakfast Club clip.... ah the Physics Club.

Raising a Fatherless Son

2013-05-06T14:53:48Z

There are a few women that I know and we're part of the club that you don't want a membership to. We are motherless mothers. At UrbanMoms alone there are a slew of us. There are books about being a motherless mom. It's a 'thing'. I was very fortunate to have had my mom for many years (not nearly enough but still) but I still ache for her guidance and support in raising Will.

Last night, Oprah focused her Life Class on another named group 'Fatherless Sons'. I wasn't going to watch, even though I'm in the midst of raising one myself, because I assumed it would be about sons who have been abandoned by their dads. I also assumed I would be hit over the head with the stats that prisons are overrun with fatherless sons and that they are doomed to be the unsuccessful demographic of children today.

But I did watch some of it, until Iyanla went out on her crazy ledge. And it was some of the most moving television I've seen in years. The audience was full of grown men, sobbing for the 'holes in their souls' that not having a father has left them with. Were there parts that I couldn't relate to? Absolutely. Were there parts that have hit home with me? Definitely.

These men were aching for a male figure, someone to teach them to be a man and to give them positive reinforcement that they're doing okay. I get that. As a motherless mother, I would give anything to have my mom here to say 'great job' and 'wow, your kid is amazing because of the job you're doing.'

But, the #1 thing that I've learned since my mom died is that you have to be accountable to you and no one else. You have to strive to be the best person that you can be - the best friend, mother, daughter and sister - so you can put your head on the pillow at night and know that you've made yourself proud. For you. Not for anyone else.

The show has made me think a little more that as he gets a bit older, if I'm still single, Will will need a strong and consistent male role model in his life. Maybe it's Big Brothers or maybe it's a friend willing to step up to be that in his life, but last night made me realize this will be more important than I thought. Many of the men reflected on how amazing their moms were/are but that even if they had never met their fathers, there was an obvious void. Gulp.

My friend Mitchell posted this picture for me on Facebook last week. I loved it. After watching the show though, I recognize that while I do act as a dad too, it will never be the same for him.

Next week's show is on single mothers raising sons, so I'll get back to you on anymore 'A-Ha' moments. For all the fluff that the mighty Opes sometimes passes on, these two shows balance it out. Next Sunday is in my calendar - interesting that it's on Mothers Day.

Do You Know Your Birth Story??

2013-04-29T14:40:20Z

I'm 44 today. I have no issue with it. I didn't mind turning 30 or 40. The milestones don't mean a lot to me. My age only freaks me out when I think about my parents when they were 44. They were OLD. Please! I will say this. I feel better, younger, fitter, more settled....happier....at 44 then I have on any of my previous 43 birthdays.

I am melancholy today though because since I've had Will, I feel like birthdays are a celebration between mother and birthday boy or girl. I lay awake last night wondering what she was thinking 44 years ago, before she went in to give birth to me. I was picturing her pregnant with me, while looking after three other kids under the age of 6, not to mention a puppy and my father! I visualize her lying in bed, having a smoke and thinking 'what the hell was I thinking having a fourth!'

I know that when it's Will's birthday, I want to celebrate us and not just him. His birth was our first real experience together. For nine months, that kid sucked the life out of me, and I will NEVER forget the day he made his first appearance. I tell him his birth story all the time because I never asked my mom what mine was. I wish I had.

I'm keeping a five-year diary (thanks Nancy for the idea!) It asks you a question a day and each day has a space for five years of answers. Last night it said 'if you could change places with one person for one day, who would it be and why?' No hesitation, I wrote, 'my mom, so she could have the chance to meet Will.' But I'll tell you, I'd leave that kid a list of questions to ask her...top of the list would be, what was my birth day like?

Do you know yours? How did you make your entrance?

What Privacy Expectations Should Kids Have?

2013-04-24T18:29:58Z

Did you keep a diary? I did throughout high school. Years later, when my mom was dying, she said that she had a box with a bunch of my old crap in it. I think she found it when we were moving some time and it had just moved with her - from house to house - over the years.

We sat down and opened the box and the memories and howling laughter came. There were flags from holes at random Toronto golf courses that a then-boyfriend had ripped off for me as a token of? Hell if I know. There were letters from a guy I dated that were filled with the most appalling spelling errors that I know where my standards come from now. And there it was, among the flags, lollipop notes and faded pictures, it was my diary.

We cracked that sucker open and read it together and laughed and shed a few tears. The tears were for my ridiculous low self-esteem and self-hatred. But the laughs were the best part. Who were these guys that I was writing about? Okay some of them, I'm still in touch with and will see in a couple weeks at my class reunion, but some, I had to go back and look at a yearbook to figure out who the hell had broken my heart SO badly. Wah. The drama.

I asked my mom if she had read it before. She laughed and said 'of course not'. True? I'm not sure but I'm going to choose to believe her.

This all came back to me as I was reading this article from the Huffington Post. A mom wrote about her daughter's diary and then POSTED IT ONLINE! The 1,500 comments are almost unanimous in their outrage and I share it. Granted, her daughter is only five but this is still an incredible breach of trust in my opinion.

I don't condone it BUT it's one thing to snoop at your teenagers diary if you're worried that they are doing something harmful (I would like to think that I still wouldn't) but something else entirely to write about it and share it online. I'd hazard a guess we're in agreement about the online sharing but I'm curious. Are we?

If a child is living in your house, under your roof, are all bets off? Should they not be allowed a level of privacy? Thinking about it since I saw the article, my belief is a private, written diary is off limits. Facebook, Twitter and Instagram etc are a whole other kettle of fish. My rule intends to be that I can follow you on any social media without limits and if I'm paying for the cell phone, I can look at it whenever I'd like. Maybe my thoughts will change in 10 years when I'm in the thick of it. Who knows?

What are your parameters around privacy with your kids?

Help! What Do I Need to Clean This Spring?!

2013-04-22T14:46:50Z

I bought my first house about 10 years ago. It was around the corner from where I am now. I loved it. I loved it until one night, I was trapped inside. Urban wildlife. Possums were on the roof of my garage, a skunk family took up under my porch and a godforsaken raccoon was humping my back railing. I swear to god, when I smashed on the window to get him to stop, he looked at me like, 'dude, I am so not finished here...'. He wasn't finished, but I was.

I decided that home ownership was too much for me. The lawn work, the crap apple tree. I have nightmares about that tree.

So I sold it and moved into a loft. There I could drive in to my underground spot, elevator up to my suite and worry about nothing. It was a rockstar way of life. Then I decided to have a baby. A baby in a loft would have been a special kind of hell that I didn't need.

I packed up and moved again. To a townhouse. Whoa! Best of all worlds! I had grass that I didn't have to cut. A driveway that I didn't have to shovel. But I also had crazy people trying to jump out of windows across the street, 4000 kids with no curfew hanging out in front and a really well-timed, first night of occupancy drug deal going down on the corner.

So now finally, I'm in my dream house. I have a lawn, but it's turf, so no mowing. The only big trees are lilacs, which have beautiful flowers and no rotting fruit.

I'm staying in this house. Not only do I love it but I have no inclination to pay any more land transfer taxes for a while. But, I'm realizing that when you live somewhere longer than two years, you have to do some maintenance.

Yesterday, I spent a couple hours washing my bbq*. Ummm disgusting. I also dropped some cash to get my windows cleaned. Best. Money. Ever. Spent. Holy crap - they are beautiful!

Will and I will be turning to Mr. Noodle soon as our fence is going to have to be redone and likely our chimney. Okay. That's what you get for owning a home rather than renting. But for me, it's the little things that you have no idea you're supposed to maintain or clean that worry me.

SO! I'm coming to you for help since it's Spring Cleaning time!

Example? I never knew about changing a furnace filter. Really? (I also just learned how you know how much air to put in your tires...and that there is an arrow on your car's gas indicator pointing to the side that your tank is on! Who knew?!)

What other house things don't I know about? Do you have a spring cleaning checklist?

Give me some insights and ideas!

*This was NOT my bbq...BUT it wasn't far off*

If Only It Was Easy To Let Go

2013-04-16T19:44:25Z

I started writing this blog post in my head yesterday, (where I write most of them and then slap it down here as fast as I can before I forget), before the bombing at the Boston Marathon. Then I didn't feel like writing it because ... well my brain was busy with other things. Also, I knew there would be more blog posts today about the topic I was struggling with BECAUSE of the bombing.

I'm a good mother. I'm not a great mother. I'm not a particularly chilled out mother, although I do think I give off that vibe. I'm a yeller. I've admitted to that in the past. My patience level, particularly in the morning, is about a negative ten. I'm extremely guilty of forgetting that my child is four and not fourteen (although given his language, I should be given a bit of a break on this). I'm not perfect but I think I'm pretty good at this job. And make no mistake, I love being a mom more than anything. But it's a job.

A pretty common theme with mom bloggers is letting go. Not sweating the small stuff. Enjoying every minute. Not yelling. Being calm. I love these posts, I do. I read them and I get inspired. I get inspired for about two minutes until I realize as fantastic as that advice is and how I wish I could be that person, that's not me. After an event like yesterday, absolutely I am that mother for a night or two. We stayed up late last night and watched Scooby Doo and ate dill pickles. We read books in bed this morning, instead of rushing for the shower.

But I know me. This won't last because it's not in my nature. And I'm going to hazard a guess that it's not in most of your natures either because letting go and not giving a crap what your kids eat for dinner or where they leave they crayons falls into the 'easier said than done' category. Things to emulate but not often achieved.

I'm TOTALLY not judging the parents who can do this. Seriously, you will live longer than me and likely have a WAY smaller booze bill at the end of the month. I understand the motivation to live like this because I realize life is short. I do. But just because I can't let go, doesn't mean I'm not enjoying my motherhood or giving my kid an awesome childhood. It doesn't mean that I don't think about the little boy who died yesterday, or the funeral for a little boy that my friend went to yesterday or about my friends who have lost very tiny babies. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't understand how fortunate I am. How beyond fortunate I am to have Will. He is healthy, smart, hysterical and without question the greatest person in my life.

And he's being raised by a mother who just can't let go most of the time. Who yells at him sometimes. And cries about it sometimes. Who essentially freaks out every morning. But you know what? He's fine. We're fine. And a random treat night with pickles and cartoons will be our way of letting go. It just sure as hell won't happen every night.

You? Are you the 'don't sweat it parent'? Do you aspire to it?

Kids Make No Logical Sense!

2013-04-11T13:10:23Z

The other morning, Will asked for a picture that he drew at Jamie's house. Let me back up. Will's new favourite activity is drawing. Without exaggeration, every day at school, there are 20 new masterpieces in his cubby. Anything remotely looking like Scooby Doo or referencing the Scoob is saved...everything else I secretly chuck into the recycling bin. I mean how the hell can he remember them all? My mistake.

We went to leave, Will was in tears and his pants were falling off... so I said,

'Dude how can you not remember to do up your pants, but you can remember one of 800 pictures you drew a week ago??'

This made me think of a few more kid related things that make no logical sense whatsoever.

My kid can sleep through a smoke alarm; an epic thunderstorm or ten firetrucks on my street BUT the second the car turns off, the car nap is over.
That a worm 'totally grosses me out mom' but picking a giant booger and eating it is considered a snack.
That he will beeeggggg me to try bubblegum but will wail like a banshee when I try to give him bubblegum flavoured medicine.
He could watch 8 episodes of Scooby Doo back to back with no pee break but put him at a dinner table and the bladder needs releasing after two minutes. (make that EVERY two minutes if we're at a restaurant).
Waking him at 6:15 during the week requires a blow horn and a crane but at 5:30 on a Saturday he wakes up like he's just chugged 15 Red Bulls?
My kid can barf in my face and hair and I can deal BUT have him spit some regurgitated chicken in my hand and it's like the pie scene from Stand By Me.

See what I mean?? Insanity. Any to add? Think about it. You know you do!

In the meantime, if you need me, I'll be in my house buried under a thousand pounds of Will's art. (Which I need to take a picture of for you guys...he draws people and they all look like penises..I laugh because really I am a 12 year-old boy).

*And excuse me but do you see this picture and start singing Bob Seger in your head and hearing my fave movie line ever 'Joel, get off the babysitter.' HELP!

Helloooo... Where Are you??

2013-04-09T16:34:38Z

Most of the time on here I talk about Will. Our ups and downs. The ridiculous (did I tell you he 'hellllooo'ed' me last week?) and the sweet. Sometimes I talk about my family, or my mom, or the things I'm grateful for. Or my fave, people who really piss me off.

It also feels like once a year, I rant about my singleness. I think it's that time of year. Friday I got into a big funk about it. I can attribute that to two things.

a. Because of the need for the godforsaken penguins, I now get a plethora of magazines. Last week they were stacking up so I plowed through them. So many articles written by women about their unsuccessful relationships, their unhappiness, their breakups...and then the miraculous awesome relationship that they found...you know...a month later.

b. I went to a party Friday night and when we were planning it, I had just been on a couple of successful dates with a great guy. I thought, 'hmmm might I actually not have to go to a party single for once?' Well the timing was bad, it didn't happen and yes, I went to the party single again.

So I had a small pity party, drank amazing champagne cocktails and questioned my friends about how so many people seem to exit one relationship and immediately find someone else to try it out with when I can't find anyone willing to take that gamble over here.

My single friend Julie came up with an awesome theory that she called 'The Bad Job Analogy'. Essentially if you're in a crappy job all you can think about it getting out, so any new job that comes around looks good. They'll jump into a new relationship to cover the pain or failure of the last one and to not be alone. Then she added, 'That or they have a relationship gene that I'm clearly missing.' I'm missing it too apparently.

I like this theory. It also brings out some of my shortcomings. I'm probably too comfortable in my being single (and my job). I know how to do it really well. But I do feel like I'm ready. This last guy? I didn't give him a nickname...my girlfriends will tell you that is major progress. My tarot cards hinted that change was coming. Maybe things are aligning for my 44th year.

The pity party is over. It was a quick one this year. BUT. I am still baffled by the 'one relationship to the next' people. Do you agree with Julie's theory? Do you have one of your own? I'm wondering if they have a line on where the hell to meet people that I don't know about!

Who knows? Maybe I should just stop reading women's magazines and switch to Maxim or something. I wonder how many penguins you get for that.

Who is Will's Daddy?

2013-04-02T16:28:01Z

Have we all recovered from yesterday's post yet? My siblings may still be attached to oxygen masks as we speak. How could I resist?

What isn't an April Fools joke? Will is almost five. People said to pay attention because it goes by in a flash and instead of wanting to punch them, maybe I should have listened. It's shocking.

The boy is surrounded by friends. He has collected a ton in his five years. He/we are totally fortunate on that front. As he gets older, so do his friends, some of whom are pushing the ripe old ages of seven and eight.

And when one is that age, never having seen a dad with Will becomes slightly more obvious. And they, rightfully so, become curious.

This weekend was the first. "Sara, does Will have a dad?". Hmmm. How to answer. I sort of froze and said, 'Not really sweetheart, he just has me.' She looked at me oddly and went back to drawing. I went over to her mom, slugged back some wine and said, 'I think you'll need to have a little biology chat later.'

I didn't sleep well that night. I tried to figure out in my mind how to explain it to kids and if now was the right time to start to talk to Will about it. I know every parent says this, but my kid is SMART. We've had a short talk about it before but I'm starting to think that now is a time to truly address it.

But how? And how much? And how do I answer other kids questions? To say that he doesn't have a father isn't true but what if they're still operating under the stork theory? It would seem like outing Santa as a fraud.

Maybe I just keep it to a simple, 'everyone has a dad, but some dads are only there to help a mom become a mom.' UGH. Brain. Spinning.

What do you think? Especially you parents of school age kids? What is a smart explanation?

Time For #2?!

2013-04-01T12:25:00Z

Well. I did it. I called the doctor (who my grandmother liked to refer to as 'the father') and made an appointment. I'm about to be 44. I'm old but with the ease I got pregnant the first time, I'm confident that I can give Will his biggest wish...a sibling.

I've thought about it so much over the last year. Ultimately the pros outweighed the cons.

I mean, the first time was a piece of cake so why not go for another?

Okay,.okay before my sister's head blows off her body....APRIL FOOLS!!!!!!

AS IF. People need I remind you of this...

PPD and

Two Year Olds and

Being sick as a single mom

I'm very self aware. I know my limits. One kid is my limit.

One very awesome, ridiculous, smart-assed kid.

PLEASE DON'T COMMENT ON FACEBOOK...UNLESS YOU WANT TO HELP ME WITH THE PRANK...:)