Suburbia

Ok, ok, if you want to get technical, I lived in the suburbs of Houston well before I moved out to 500 Leagues Under the Sea, shortened to "500 Leagues". I live in a part of Houston named after a lake, which is a little confusing because there is both the lake and the sea here. Anyways. I lived in an apartment for three years before purchasing the house-where-the-A/C-and-cable-doesn't-work in 500 Leagues. There is just something different about living in an apartment. In the apartment, it was rare to have two parents living in the same home, unless it was in mega families with five or more kids (and really? I don't even know how you fit five kids into a two-bedroom apartment. Now that I think about it, that probably explains why my neighbors were always out on the dime-sized patio playing acoustic guitar and drinking beer. It doesn't explain why their cousin from Mexico/Columbia/Guatemala/ok,-I'm an asshole because I never asked moved out onto the patio and made international phone calls on his cell all day and night).

Jeez, where was I? Right, the apartment. It's just different in a house. All the kids here have two parents and most families have two incomes. The kids here are just different - or I'll be honest, maybe I'm just more sensitive. It's a little unclear from Zac's story if the neighborhood kids were teasing him because he doesn't live with his FOB or if they were just being silly, but one six year-old made a joke about New Hampshire being New Hamster and it ended up with Zac running home, crying.

There are so many angles of this story that I tried to tackle with Zac. The first issue was to give him some ideas how to answer kids when they ask where his Dad lives. I told him to just say that his Dad doesn't live with him. That seems normal, right? Like, "I see my Dad on weekends" is way more socially acceptable to six year-olds than, "I met my Dad once when I was six months-old and he lives in New Hampshire." Apparently, New Hampshire, as a state, can be easily transformed into "New Hamster", which is the best thing any first grader has ever said in terms of humor and wit.

Second issue: not every kid is going to know as many states as Zac, or read as well, or do square root mathematics, or whatever else Zac can do that astounds me. My talk with Zac went something along these lines:

Me: "Look. You're really smart. Not every kid is going to be as smart as you are. I was really smart when I was your age and I had a hard time."

Him: "Had a hard time with what?"

Me: "Making friends. It didn't get better into college."

Him: "What!?! Even in high school it didn't get better! What about middle school?"

Me: "Nope, definitely not middle school"

Him: "I can't believe that I'll go to two whole schools without smart people."

Me: "There will be other smart kids in high school, but there will also be some other not-smart ones"

Him: "But there are smart people in college, right?"

Me: "Right"

----and my parents were worried about starting a Section 529 College Savings Plan! Ha. Little did they know the indoctrination that a gifted only child of a nerd can receive. Nevertheless, he's going to have to quickly learn that while he can read chapter books now, his two little feet didn't leave the Earth under his own willpower until he was 2 1/2. He didn't even learn how to walk until 17 months. Sports and physical motion have never been his strong suit. We all have advantages and disadvantages.

Now I'm off to go figure out how I can torture the neighborhood boys. New Hamster, my ass.

Heaps O'Stress

You know how sometimes people create drama? Like if there is none in their life then they go out and meet a couple of random people who show up at their house all drugged up and they end up having to call the cops, but not before someone's ex shows up and threatens to beat up everyone? I've never done that or even come close, but I'm starting to wonder if I may have a similar tendencies.

I just finished my masters program. Life should be simpler, easier - but it's not. I work more, for starters. Every week I put in about 50 hours, sometimes more depending on how much I network and if it's at night or early in the morning. I got a house that scares the crap out of me. I actually asked my boss today if I could get a second job to help afford this place, but I was told no. My firm interprets FINRA rules to say that advisors can't earn income anywhere outside of the firm. I guess I can understand that you don't really want someone to solicit your business if they are ringing you up at Pier One on the weekends, but still.


So, that sucks. Every budget in the world can't make someone feel more confident when they can see disaster on the horizon. The irony  that I'm a Financial Advisor does not escape me. Don't worry, I feel properly humbled.
 
There is just something wrong. Most of the time I can't even put my finger on it. I'm losing clumps of hair at night and in the shower, presumably from stress and/or poor nutrition. I cry a lot. I was admitted to the ER with chest pains that turned out to be no form of cardiac event that any test could detect. I've seen specialists. I've asked about my hormones and vitamins. I'm on a "wait and see" regimen with all of them. It's frustrating. I'm a do-er and I get the distinct feeling that I'm doing something wrong or even just merely not doing something right.

and don't even get me started on dating. and the dog that keeps eating my high heels, even when I put them in my room and "close" the door (note to self: figure out a way to lock the master bedroom from the outside). The dog also constantly chases the cat in a carnival rendition of the "Farmer and the Dell" every hour that they are both awake. and I never expected that living in double the space would make my life feel more empty.

hmm...that's something to think about. Thanks for letting me have this, albeit, one-sided conversation. I feel a little bit better now.

2 Weeks

As Caroline so aptly noticed on Facebook, Clicker went with me to my graduate school graduation in New Orleans this weekend. I invited him and since his job hadn't officially started, he came. There were some tough times, however, mixed in with all the wonderful. I feel like I'm even being disloyal writing about him because he HATES when I write about him on the internet, even though he knows I have a blog. But he's also not here right now and he's weighing heavily on my heart. My online community has been around longer than him.

So, where to start? Well, we lived together for just five weeks before he moved out, at my discretion. He felt like I was taking advantage of him and "dumping" my kid on him while I was working late and I felt like he wasn't ready to be a Dad and was being incredibly selfish. We parted ways. But, it wasn't that easy. We stayed friends. Best friends actually. He got an apartment in the suburb that I live in. I helped him move and study for his Series 7 exam.

I decided that I needed to date right after he moved out. I was much more cautious this time and met only three men and two of the dates ended horribly. One ended so badly I wondered if I should press charges, but I ended up escaping safely. That morning, I called Clicker. He came over and held me and told me that men should not treat women like that and being in his arms felt so good and safe. Almost without telling him, I decided that I wanted to date him exclusively again. We fit. We know each other so well.

Just one problem with this scenario. While I was being self-centered and focused on dating other people, he had also joined an online dating site and was texting and talking to close to 5-8 women. At first, he didn't tell me about them. We just kept hanging out and acting like everything was normal. Then it started coming out. I realized that he met one of them for a date, while still technically dating me (although not exclusively). Don't worry, if this seems complicated, it's because it is.

He lied about seeing the girl. Now he's back in Huntsville and plans to see another one of his women. He's asked for two weeks to make a decision: either he will decide to date one or more of his women, or go back and date me exclusively. I told him that he was gambling that I would even be around in two weeks, but let's be honest here folks, for those of you that read me back in the notsopregnant days, have I ever held to any of my boundaries with men? Ever? Yeah, I can't think of any times either.

Here is where you come in with some advice. If you were me, would you wait the two weeks with the hopes that he will come back to me? After all, I went on several first dates. They just happened to be monumentally horrendous, but I did go out on them. Isn't it fair for him to date. He says he wants to see what is out there. Or, do I listen to that little voice in my head that's saying, "You are too great for anyone to let you go, especially if they are out trying to find someone better." Don't worry, that voice is easily squashed so don't let that influence your advice.

So come on, you gotta let me know now, Should I Stay or Should Go?