Last Tuesday Mr. Curls' first ex called. The original plan was that Mr. Curls would take the boys Friday for them to spend the summer with him (save for alternating weekends when they'd be back with their mom). Instead, she asked him if he'd like to get them early, like, in an hour and a half.
Mr. Curls agreed, did a mad dash to get ready, and his ex brought the boys up early. It was a bit of a wrinkle in his plans, and since he'd just gotten a water bed that hadn't been... tried out yet, it was a bit of a wrinkle in mine. However, Mr. Curls doesn't get to spend as much time with the boys as he'd like to, and I like them, too, so no complaints.
This past week I've been playing games with the boys and I even found a set of poker chips on clearance for them, they're big fans of Texas Hold 'em. Also, we managed to try out the water bed after all by practicing covert, post-boys-asleep, shenanigans. Dunno how much I like the water bed for certain things, though the novelty is certainly fun.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Monday, June 7, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Mr. Curls' Dad
This past week Mr. Curls' grandfather passed away. His grandfather's health had been in decline for a while and the death didn't come as a great surprise. However, even expected deaths are difficult. The one lighter side of it is that Mr. Curls' father came to town for the memorial service and to help take care of what needed taking care of.
I didn't go to the memorial, but I did meet Mr. Curls' dad the next day. We went to a diner to get some space from the rest of the family and ate pie while we chatted. It was funny to me to see the similarity in some of their mannerisms and ways of speaking. I definitely see the resemblance ;) I enjoyed it and knew I was okay in Mr. Dad's book when he told me, "It was wonderful to meet you. You are the best thing that's happened to my son in a very long time."
I didn't go to the memorial, but I did meet Mr. Curls' dad the next day. We went to a diner to get some space from the rest of the family and ate pie while we chatted. It was funny to me to see the similarity in some of their mannerisms and ways of speaking. I definitely see the resemblance ;) I enjoyed it and knew I was okay in Mr. Dad's book when he told me, "It was wonderful to meet you. You are the best thing that's happened to my son in a very long time."
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Culture Clash
Of late, I've been a bit conflicted about Mr. Curls. On one hand, he's got a lot of emotional qualities that I really like. On the other, well, it can pretty much be summed up with a recent conversation I had with my brother where I was talking about Mr. Curls' culinary skills. I described a dish he'd made (chicken over rice, topped with cream of mushroom soup) and how he'd been so proud about coming up with the recipe. When I mentioned that the recipe was on the side of the soup can, he responded, "Yeah, but I didn't look at the recipe that first time. I came up with it independently." He was very proud of himself. I was, to be honest, underwhelmed.
I told my brother, "The sad thing is, he thinks he's such a great cook and the truth is, he's not especially great. Yeah, he can cook, but Gordon Ramsay he is not. Except, that's not how he sees it."
One of Mr. Curls' qualities that worries me is an over estimation of certain abilities or accomplishments which, frankly, I'm not impressed by. I know that sounds harsh, which isn't how I mean it. It's more about him and I coming from very different backgrounds.
Mr. Curls' background = parents who got pregnant in high school to force their parents to allow them to be together. Mr. Curls' dad was a dad at 17, his mom never graduated high school, and his mom became a Jehovah's Witness when he was a kid. Growing up, Mr. Curls was told that, basically, college was out of his league, so between that mentality and getting married at 19 because he was about to be a dad, he never went.
My background = parents who dated for a couple of years, dated long distance, and the first time my dad proposed, saying, "and when you're my wife, you'll never work" (meaning it in a nice way), my mom turned him down because it was important to her to have her own career. My parents had me when my mom was 29 and my dad was 32. When I was a kid, my mom went to college and got her bachelor's degree while working and raising two kids. Growing up, college was always talked about in terms of "when" I would go to college, never if.
The bottom line is that even though Mr. Curls and I grew up in the same city, in a lot of ways, we come from different worlds. Things which, to me, are not newsworthy, are a big deal to him. On some things, I feel like we're just not on the same level. I know that sounds critical and snobbish, but I don't know how else to say it. One thing I keep coming back to is what a difference a college education can make. Having that BA or MA or PhD isn't the be all end all, not by a long shot, but there are certain ways of thinking that college teaches you.
In my composition classes, when I'm talking with my students about the ways the media influences us, when I'm talking about analyzing biases present in movies, newspaper articles, etc., their first reaction is often that I'm "over analyzing" it. A cigar is just a cigar, right? And yes, sometimes, it is. But, sometimes it's not. By the end of the class, at least a few students have had light bulb moments. For instance, sometimes they say, "Oh! Now I get why that commercial is using Jennifer Lopez as a spokesperson, it's 'cause she's scantily clad and the commercial is aimed at men!" Right? Right.
Mr. Curls has told me how, because he's had business experience and because he's so worldly, he can watch a commercial and immediately figure out who it's aimed at. He's impressed friends and family with this skill. He thinks it's cool that I get it, too. I think it's cool that he's figured it out on his own. But, the difficulty comes from the fact that his background, most of his social circle, is not on that level. So, he ends up feeling like big stuff 'cause he knows something they don't. Except, that in my perspective, that puts him on the level with an 18 year-old college freshmen. In his mind, he's on the top of the food chain. In my mind, he's just getting started.
Case in point, the showcase he was so gung-ho about. He was excited because the process was somewhat selective and because he felt like they just weren't picking everyone. Also, apparently, the $800 fee was low compared to other showcases he's heard about. At first glance, it seems promising. But that's skipping a couple of important analytical steps. One thing I always talk to my students about in terms of the motivations of political organizations, for instance, is "where does the money go?" With the showcase, it's put on by the scouting agency, which means the scouting agency is getting the money. Therefore, it's in their best interest to find a large number of people to attend it. They get the registration fee. That's how they get their money, not based on the number of people who actually get agents. So, there's one gigantic, flashing red light. Also, he talked about how he could get discovered, but that skips another important question - why would this be his chance? Yes, he'd be in front of agents, fine. But another important question comes up - if this is an effective way of finding an agent, then who are the actors who've been successful this way? What big names has this particular scouting agency found? What's their track record?
Mr. Curls was excited about the showcase because he felt like he'd thought about the situation critically. I'd say he thought about it more critically than many might, but not critically enough. He was so focused on "well, I asked this question that most people wouldn't, that means I know what I'm doing," that he missed the other, even more important questions.
Another thing I was talking with my brother about was Mr. Curls' far-sightedness. He has this tendency to focus so much on where he wants to be that he overlooks where he is. He has a plan to do real estate work. According to the plan, in 16 months, he's doing real estate. That's fine. But, what about next month? When he hurt his back, he was frustrated because it threw a wrench into his finances and he didn't have enough to go to the showcase (blessing in disguise, right?). His refrain, "but, if I hadn't hurt my back, it would've been fine." The thing is, unexpected things are, by nature, unexpected. I made a comment once about a job I applied for and how, if I got it, I'd spend a couple years living well below my means (i.e. my lifestyle wouldn't really change) because I'd be so focused on clearing away my student loans and building up a big savings buffer. He said, "Well, it's important not to live above your means, but why not live within them?" Well, because of things like back injuries or layoffs or whatever might come up that I can't anticipate.
His culture = you're doing really well if you can pay your bills every month.
My culture = you're doing well if you've got your own home, your car paid off, and a good sized retirement fund.
His culture = "You're marrying a gal you met four months ago? Cool, she seems nice."
My culture = "You're marrying a guy you met four months ago? Are you crazy?"
A lot of the time, the clash isn't so clear. Sometimes, though, it's blindingly so. This past week I've been in Florida, visiting my brother. It's the most time I've spent away from Mr. Curls since we met. I've been away from him, and spending a whole lot of time with my brother, who's an Air Force Lieutenant undergoing pilot training. Mr. Curls works for a trash company. I'm not saying a job or a college degree is the be all end all, but it does shape your world view. Being around my brother so much this week has emphasized how different my world is from Mr. Curls' world.
How much difference is too much difference? How much do Mr. Curls and I truly have in common? Is it enough? How much of my concerns are genuine? How much of my concerns are more about just adjusting to another person's perspective? My brother and I see eye-to-eye on so many things, but we were raised together, our nature and nurture are both the same and we've known each other twenty three years. Of course I'm on the same page with him. Mr. Curls is a whole other person, from a whole different background. Of course we're not going to be the same on everything. But, what is okay to be different on? Where does difference become conflict? I know part of my anxiousness just comes from being in a relationship with someone. I know part of my worry comes from being in a relationship with this particular someone. What I don't know is how the percentages work out - is it more about being intimidated by being close to someone, or is it more that we're too different for this to work? I'm so confused.
I told my brother, "The sad thing is, he thinks he's such a great cook and the truth is, he's not especially great. Yeah, he can cook, but Gordon Ramsay he is not. Except, that's not how he sees it."
One of Mr. Curls' qualities that worries me is an over estimation of certain abilities or accomplishments which, frankly, I'm not impressed by. I know that sounds harsh, which isn't how I mean it. It's more about him and I coming from very different backgrounds.
Mr. Curls' background = parents who got pregnant in high school to force their parents to allow them to be together. Mr. Curls' dad was a dad at 17, his mom never graduated high school, and his mom became a Jehovah's Witness when he was a kid. Growing up, Mr. Curls was told that, basically, college was out of his league, so between that mentality and getting married at 19 because he was about to be a dad, he never went.
My background = parents who dated for a couple of years, dated long distance, and the first time my dad proposed, saying, "and when you're my wife, you'll never work" (meaning it in a nice way), my mom turned him down because it was important to her to have her own career. My parents had me when my mom was 29 and my dad was 32. When I was a kid, my mom went to college and got her bachelor's degree while working and raising two kids. Growing up, college was always talked about in terms of "when" I would go to college, never if.
The bottom line is that even though Mr. Curls and I grew up in the same city, in a lot of ways, we come from different worlds. Things which, to me, are not newsworthy, are a big deal to him. On some things, I feel like we're just not on the same level. I know that sounds critical and snobbish, but I don't know how else to say it. One thing I keep coming back to is what a difference a college education can make. Having that BA or MA or PhD isn't the be all end all, not by a long shot, but there are certain ways of thinking that college teaches you.
In my composition classes, when I'm talking with my students about the ways the media influences us, when I'm talking about analyzing biases present in movies, newspaper articles, etc., their first reaction is often that I'm "over analyzing" it. A cigar is just a cigar, right? And yes, sometimes, it is. But, sometimes it's not. By the end of the class, at least a few students have had light bulb moments. For instance, sometimes they say, "Oh! Now I get why that commercial is using Jennifer Lopez as a spokesperson, it's 'cause she's scantily clad and the commercial is aimed at men!" Right? Right.
Mr. Curls has told me how, because he's had business experience and because he's so worldly, he can watch a commercial and immediately figure out who it's aimed at. He's impressed friends and family with this skill. He thinks it's cool that I get it, too. I think it's cool that he's figured it out on his own. But, the difficulty comes from the fact that his background, most of his social circle, is not on that level. So, he ends up feeling like big stuff 'cause he knows something they don't. Except, that in my perspective, that puts him on the level with an 18 year-old college freshmen. In his mind, he's on the top of the food chain. In my mind, he's just getting started.
Case in point, the showcase he was so gung-ho about. He was excited because the process was somewhat selective and because he felt like they just weren't picking everyone. Also, apparently, the $800 fee was low compared to other showcases he's heard about. At first glance, it seems promising. But that's skipping a couple of important analytical steps. One thing I always talk to my students about in terms of the motivations of political organizations, for instance, is "where does the money go?" With the showcase, it's put on by the scouting agency, which means the scouting agency is getting the money. Therefore, it's in their best interest to find a large number of people to attend it. They get the registration fee. That's how they get their money, not based on the number of people who actually get agents. So, there's one gigantic, flashing red light. Also, he talked about how he could get discovered, but that skips another important question - why would this be his chance? Yes, he'd be in front of agents, fine. But another important question comes up - if this is an effective way of finding an agent, then who are the actors who've been successful this way? What big names has this particular scouting agency found? What's their track record?
Mr. Curls was excited about the showcase because he felt like he'd thought about the situation critically. I'd say he thought about it more critically than many might, but not critically enough. He was so focused on "well, I asked this question that most people wouldn't, that means I know what I'm doing," that he missed the other, even more important questions.
Another thing I was talking with my brother about was Mr. Curls' far-sightedness. He has this tendency to focus so much on where he wants to be that he overlooks where he is. He has a plan to do real estate work. According to the plan, in 16 months, he's doing real estate. That's fine. But, what about next month? When he hurt his back, he was frustrated because it threw a wrench into his finances and he didn't have enough to go to the showcase (blessing in disguise, right?). His refrain, "but, if I hadn't hurt my back, it would've been fine." The thing is, unexpected things are, by nature, unexpected. I made a comment once about a job I applied for and how, if I got it, I'd spend a couple years living well below my means (i.e. my lifestyle wouldn't really change) because I'd be so focused on clearing away my student loans and building up a big savings buffer. He said, "Well, it's important not to live above your means, but why not live within them?" Well, because of things like back injuries or layoffs or whatever might come up that I can't anticipate.
His culture = you're doing really well if you can pay your bills every month.
My culture = you're doing well if you've got your own home, your car paid off, and a good sized retirement fund.
His culture = "You're marrying a gal you met four months ago? Cool, she seems nice."
My culture = "You're marrying a guy you met four months ago? Are you crazy?"
A lot of the time, the clash isn't so clear. Sometimes, though, it's blindingly so. This past week I've been in Florida, visiting my brother. It's the most time I've spent away from Mr. Curls since we met. I've been away from him, and spending a whole lot of time with my brother, who's an Air Force Lieutenant undergoing pilot training. Mr. Curls works for a trash company. I'm not saying a job or a college degree is the be all end all, but it does shape your world view. Being around my brother so much this week has emphasized how different my world is from Mr. Curls' world.
How much difference is too much difference? How much do Mr. Curls and I truly have in common? Is it enough? How much of my concerns are genuine? How much of my concerns are more about just adjusting to another person's perspective? My brother and I see eye-to-eye on so many things, but we were raised together, our nature and nurture are both the same and we've known each other twenty three years. Of course I'm on the same page with him. Mr. Curls is a whole other person, from a whole different background. Of course we're not going to be the same on everything. But, what is okay to be different on? Where does difference become conflict? I know part of my anxiousness just comes from being in a relationship with someone. I know part of my worry comes from being in a relationship with this particular someone. What I don't know is how the percentages work out - is it more about being intimidated by being close to someone, or is it more that we're too different for this to work? I'm so confused.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Pina Colada Brain Freeze
On Monday, I turned in final grades for the semester. Tuesday I hopped on a plane and flew to Florida to visit my brother. Right now, while he's off doing pilot training, I'm sitting on the lovely screened in porch drinking a pina colada. Today, is a good day. I've got warm summer air, plenty of TV to watch on my laptop, and a whole lot of nothing in particular to do.
I'm having a lovely slacker vacation.
I'm having a lovely slacker vacation.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
From the Mouth of Babes, or Another Weekend With the Boys
I spent more time hanging out with Mr. Curls and the boys this weekend. It surprises me how quickly the four of us have slipped into a comfortable zone. The boys have totally taken me in stride and I liked them from the outset. E., the younger boy, has basically adopted me wholesale. On Sunday, we took two cars to the park and frozen yogurt shop because I was leaving directly from there to meet some friends for dinner. Before we left the apartment, E. heard this and promptly told Mr. Curls, "A. can go with you, and I'll go with Jean." Just like that, I had a co-pilot.
Mr. Curls got a bit uncomfortable with his son proclaiming he'd ride with me without asking me first. Mr. Curls told E. that it was up to me whether or not that would be the case. For my part, I didn't mind and I took it as a stamp of approval that E. volunteered himself to ride with me.
E. also dropped a nugget of info over blueberry pancakes at breakfast. A. made the comment that he, Mr. Curls, and I were all oldest siblings, which made E. the odd man out. E. proceeded to tell me that he used to be the middle kid when he had a step mom. Turns out, ex #2 had a two-year-old daughter. It fits what little I know about her, and especially what I know about Mr. Curls. The toddler, meaning she got pregnant either at the tail end of 17 or the beginning of being 18, makes sense. She wasn't the paragon of virtue (I'm not generalizing here, but making a specific statement about this particular gal) and it fits that she was a teen mom. It also fits that Mr. Curls would see that, connect it to his own early fatherhood, and see a connection with her. Also, it makes a little more sense that he would get so tied with this gal so quickly, because he might have been looking at it not only as taking care of this chic, but also as taking care of her kid. Kids are a definite soft spot for him, especially since his access to his boys is so limited (their mom moved an hour and a half away after the divorce).
When E. talked about the ex, it was an interesting moment. Mr. Curls was certainly watching my reaction since the two-year-old was part of the bank of non-essential information we'd talked about me learning at a later date. So, it's not like he was keeping a secret, per se, but E. was telling me something Mr. Curls hadn't. Mr. Curls watched me.
E. watched me too. He's a kid who's got little by way of filter between what he thinks and what he says, but I sensed a tiny bit of purpose behind the comment. I'm not sure what that purpose might have been, but something in what he said was about me, because he watched me pretty closely, waiting for a response instead of talking on. From the tone and his attitude, I lean toward thinking that his comment about having had a step mom before was a little bit aimed toward hinting that it'd be okay if he had a step mom again. Or, maybe I'm reading too much into it. Either way, after I said a neutral, "Oh yeah?" the moment passed.
(Side Note: Mr. Curls haven't talked about the revelation yet. He hasn't brought it up, and I wanted to wait for the right moment. It's not something I'm worried about, really, and it's not something where I'm upset with him for not telling me. The conversations we've had about the exes have been pretty clear on the part where I don't want all the details at once and the part where he's got more to tell than I know so far. I made it clear that if there was anything that'd directly affect me, I wanted to know now, and I trust him that the unknown parts are okay to be unknown right now. The ex's kid info is important, but it doesn't directly affect me, so I'm okay that he hadn't told me that part yet.)
After breakfast, we bummed around a bit until I suggested we go to the park to let the boys get some fresh air. Mr. Curls smiled. "It's interesting how you said 'we' like it was the most natural thing in the world." E. jumped on the idea, proclaiming it'd be "romantic" for me and Mr. Curls. He was less impressed when, at the park, Mr. Curls declined to play tag because of his back - it's better, but not yet 100%. Both of the boys gave him a hard time about being a wuss, but Mr. Curls held firm and the boys decided they were over this whole park thing and it was time for frozen yogurt.
Later, at the yogurt shop, I went to the ladies room to wash my hands after I finished my dessert and stood at the sink next to a young lady who worked there. She smiled at me and said, "My friend and I were talking about you and your husband. We think you're so cute together."
I debated with myself for a moment whether or not to correct the misunderstanding, then I just said, "Thanks." I wonder if the assumption also followed that I was the boys' mom. It's interesting to think about.
The whole situation with Mr. Curls' complicated past and the boys' complicated parental situation is, well, complicated, and now I'm plopped in the middle of it. I'm cautious about the whole thing, because there's so much potential for drama, but so far things have gone along with remarkable smoothness. It's unexpected and leaves me wondering, why isn't it harder? Is this too easy? That part makes me a little nervous.
Mr. Curls got a bit uncomfortable with his son proclaiming he'd ride with me without asking me first. Mr. Curls told E. that it was up to me whether or not that would be the case. For my part, I didn't mind and I took it as a stamp of approval that E. volunteered himself to ride with me.
E. also dropped a nugget of info over blueberry pancakes at breakfast. A. made the comment that he, Mr. Curls, and I were all oldest siblings, which made E. the odd man out. E. proceeded to tell me that he used to be the middle kid when he had a step mom. Turns out, ex #2 had a two-year-old daughter. It fits what little I know about her, and especially what I know about Mr. Curls. The toddler, meaning she got pregnant either at the tail end of 17 or the beginning of being 18, makes sense. She wasn't the paragon of virtue (I'm not generalizing here, but making a specific statement about this particular gal) and it fits that she was a teen mom. It also fits that Mr. Curls would see that, connect it to his own early fatherhood, and see a connection with her. Also, it makes a little more sense that he would get so tied with this gal so quickly, because he might have been looking at it not only as taking care of this chic, but also as taking care of her kid. Kids are a definite soft spot for him, especially since his access to his boys is so limited (their mom moved an hour and a half away after the divorce).
When E. talked about the ex, it was an interesting moment. Mr. Curls was certainly watching my reaction since the two-year-old was part of the bank of non-essential information we'd talked about me learning at a later date. So, it's not like he was keeping a secret, per se, but E. was telling me something Mr. Curls hadn't. Mr. Curls watched me.
E. watched me too. He's a kid who's got little by way of filter between what he thinks and what he says, but I sensed a tiny bit of purpose behind the comment. I'm not sure what that purpose might have been, but something in what he said was about me, because he watched me pretty closely, waiting for a response instead of talking on. From the tone and his attitude, I lean toward thinking that his comment about having had a step mom before was a little bit aimed toward hinting that it'd be okay if he had a step mom again. Or, maybe I'm reading too much into it. Either way, after I said a neutral, "Oh yeah?" the moment passed.
(Side Note: Mr. Curls haven't talked about the revelation yet. He hasn't brought it up, and I wanted to wait for the right moment. It's not something I'm worried about, really, and it's not something where I'm upset with him for not telling me. The conversations we've had about the exes have been pretty clear on the part where I don't want all the details at once and the part where he's got more to tell than I know so far. I made it clear that if there was anything that'd directly affect me, I wanted to know now, and I trust him that the unknown parts are okay to be unknown right now. The ex's kid info is important, but it doesn't directly affect me, so I'm okay that he hadn't told me that part yet.)
After breakfast, we bummed around a bit until I suggested we go to the park to let the boys get some fresh air. Mr. Curls smiled. "It's interesting how you said 'we' like it was the most natural thing in the world." E. jumped on the idea, proclaiming it'd be "romantic" for me and Mr. Curls. He was less impressed when, at the park, Mr. Curls declined to play tag because of his back - it's better, but not yet 100%. Both of the boys gave him a hard time about being a wuss, but Mr. Curls held firm and the boys decided they were over this whole park thing and it was time for frozen yogurt.
Later, at the yogurt shop, I went to the ladies room to wash my hands after I finished my dessert and stood at the sink next to a young lady who worked there. She smiled at me and said, "My friend and I were talking about you and your husband. We think you're so cute together."
I debated with myself for a moment whether or not to correct the misunderstanding, then I just said, "Thanks." I wonder if the assumption also followed that I was the boys' mom. It's interesting to think about.
The whole situation with Mr. Curls' complicated past and the boys' complicated parental situation is, well, complicated, and now I'm plopped in the middle of it. I'm cautious about the whole thing, because there's so much potential for drama, but so far things have gone along with remarkable smoothness. It's unexpected and leaves me wondering, why isn't it harder? Is this too easy? That part makes me a little nervous.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Brother Meets Boyfriend
Since my brother is a young guy with some time on his hands between phases of his pilot training, he decided to take a road trip on his motorcycle from Florida to Colorado. He, and his very sore butt, got into town the night before last, so yesterday me and Mr. Curls met up with my brother and his girlfriend so Mr. Curls could meet my little brother.
We met up, grilled some hamburgers, and spent the afternoon hanging out. My brother and Mr. Curls hit it off right away. In part, because their personalities just work, and in part because my brother was way excited that he wasn't the only boy. In the past, there have been times where it's been me, my brother, and the girlfriend and she and I have ganged up on him. This time, my brother had another guy as backup.
See, my brother is ticklish. WAY ticklish. That makes it really hilarious when me and the girlfriend team up and attack him. He giggles in a distinctly girlish way when he gets tickled, and he flails helplessly about, which entertains me and the girlfriend to no end. Yesterday, there came a point when we were all sitting on the lawn outside and me and the girlfriend decided it was a good time to tackle my brother.
There I was, getting some good rib tickling in, when suddenly, I got blindsided by a sneak attack as Mr. Curls tickled me from behind. Ticklishness, like thick hair, is a trait my brother and I share. So, as soon as Mr. Curls came at me and exploited this weakness, I was out of commission, leaving my brother with much better odds. Mr. Curls scored major points with my brother for that and it pretty much cemented their alliance.
Mr. Curls has officially passed the brother test. Now the girlfriend and I have lost the two-against-one girl advantage. Tragic, I tell you. Tragic ;)
We met up, grilled some hamburgers, and spent the afternoon hanging out. My brother and Mr. Curls hit it off right away. In part, because their personalities just work, and in part because my brother was way excited that he wasn't the only boy. In the past, there have been times where it's been me, my brother, and the girlfriend and she and I have ganged up on him. This time, my brother had another guy as backup.
See, my brother is ticklish. WAY ticklish. That makes it really hilarious when me and the girlfriend team up and attack him. He giggles in a distinctly girlish way when he gets tickled, and he flails helplessly about, which entertains me and the girlfriend to no end. Yesterday, there came a point when we were all sitting on the lawn outside and me and the girlfriend decided it was a good time to tackle my brother.
There I was, getting some good rib tickling in, when suddenly, I got blindsided by a sneak attack as Mr. Curls tickled me from behind. Ticklishness, like thick hair, is a trait my brother and I share. So, as soon as Mr. Curls came at me and exploited this weakness, I was out of commission, leaving my brother with much better odds. Mr. Curls scored major points with my brother for that and it pretty much cemented their alliance.
Mr. Curls has officially passed the brother test. Now the girlfriend and I have lost the two-against-one girl advantage. Tragic, I tell you. Tragic ;)
Monday, April 12, 2010
Game Night and Package Deals
Saturday Mr. Curls and the boys got some of Mr. Curls' stuff out of storage, a.k.a. picked it up from ex #2's sister (he's been waiting to get it until he could be sure there wouldn't be drama). When I went to the apartment that night, there were a stack of boxes stuffed into the bedroom, some pieces of furniture added to the living room, and, most exciting of all, a kitchen table.
I arrived with a few things of my own: a deck of cards, Jenga, and a couple of board games. The boys were a tad shy at first, staying in their room for a minute before peeking out. Then, any shyness was over and E, the eight-year-old quickly wrangled me into a game of Don't Break The Ice while Mr. Curls fiddled with getting the TV stand set up. It didn't take too long before all four of us were playing Jenga. The slightly wobbly table, combined with a very energetic E's elbows on the table, made for extra suspense.
There was a moment during playing games where Mr. Curls had E. go to his room to calm down a bit and A., the thirteen-year-old, was on an expedition to the convenience store for a donut. The two of us were alone for a moment and Mr. Curls shook his head, "I promise, they're not usually this wound up," he said, meaning E. mostly.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I figured."
Mr. Curls smiled, "Would it make sense if I told you they were excited to see you?"
Once we regrouped, we moved on to cards. After a few hands, Mr. Curls made a pizza run and while he was gone, I showed the boys a couple of card tricks I know. Then I showed them how to do the tricks and A. immediately practiced a couple times and when Mr. Curls returned with the pizza, A. did the tricks for him. One was a bit more complicated, so he goofed it. Once we finished pizza, I helped A. practice the trick until he got it down pat.
Later, after a movie and after the boys were in bed, Mr. Curls and I sat on the couch for a bit, letting the quiet soak in. "That was fun," I said.
"Yeah?" Mr. Curls looked relieved. He had been a bit self-conscious at moments when the boys were giving each other grief, or when E.'s volume level got high. But, I know that kids are kids. I also can see that A. and E. are good kids. Add to that the fact that, since the boys were more wound up than when we did mini golf, I got to see Mr. Curls in more of a dad mode when he needed to be. He's a good dad, and it was neat to see that side of him.
"I liked goofing around with the boys. It's been a good night."
I was pleased that the boys got into the games like they did. It reminded me a bit of playing games with my parents when I was a kid and that gave me a whole warm fuzzy vibe. It's been a number of years since I started thinking that giving birth really wasn't my idea of a good time. However, whenever I think of my future, I tend to see kids in it. For a very long time, I've been telling my brother all about the kids he's going to have so I can be an aunt. A few days ago, when we were talking about Mr. Curls, my brother asked if that was still the plan. "Yup," I told him. "Besides, Mr. Curls already has two, so it's not like he's feeling the baby fever either. I'm still more into the idea of part time kids than full time."
"Then that'll work perfect," my brother said. "His kids are like rentals."
"Exactly."
It might sound shallow, but I swear it has more to do with the difference between liking children and needing to have my own biological children. With Mr. Curls' boys, I've been pleasantly surprised by how quickly they've warmed up to me. I expected more caution. I expected them to spend more time feeling me out before deciding about me. The idea that they were excited to see me Saturday is more than I expected. Like so much else with this relationship, it gelled more easily than I hoped.
I don't want to jump the gun, but these days, the more I imagine my future, the more I imagine Mr. Curls being in it. The more I imagine having a lot more game nights. I've always had the dream of a family of my own, even if that family wasn't the typical set up with me giving birth to members thereof. The thing is, though I've had that clear goal, it's always been distant. Now, in such a short time of only a few months, that goal seems to suddenly be a lot closer. The last thing I want is to get ahead of myself, but I like the idea of the four of us. My plan was, if all went well, I'd be adding one more person to my life. Now, if all goes well, I'd be adding three. It's intimidating. It's exciting. I just might be getting a family out of this.
Funny to think how it all started with a question in a bar.
I arrived with a few things of my own: a deck of cards, Jenga, and a couple of board games. The boys were a tad shy at first, staying in their room for a minute before peeking out. Then, any shyness was over and E, the eight-year-old quickly wrangled me into a game of Don't Break The Ice while Mr. Curls fiddled with getting the TV stand set up. It didn't take too long before all four of us were playing Jenga. The slightly wobbly table, combined with a very energetic E's elbows on the table, made for extra suspense.
There was a moment during playing games where Mr. Curls had E. go to his room to calm down a bit and A., the thirteen-year-old, was on an expedition to the convenience store for a donut. The two of us were alone for a moment and Mr. Curls shook his head, "I promise, they're not usually this wound up," he said, meaning E. mostly.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I figured."
Mr. Curls smiled, "Would it make sense if I told you they were excited to see you?"
Once we regrouped, we moved on to cards. After a few hands, Mr. Curls made a pizza run and while he was gone, I showed the boys a couple of card tricks I know. Then I showed them how to do the tricks and A. immediately practiced a couple times and when Mr. Curls returned with the pizza, A. did the tricks for him. One was a bit more complicated, so he goofed it. Once we finished pizza, I helped A. practice the trick until he got it down pat.
Later, after a movie and after the boys were in bed, Mr. Curls and I sat on the couch for a bit, letting the quiet soak in. "That was fun," I said.
"Yeah?" Mr. Curls looked relieved. He had been a bit self-conscious at moments when the boys were giving each other grief, or when E.'s volume level got high. But, I know that kids are kids. I also can see that A. and E. are good kids. Add to that the fact that, since the boys were more wound up than when we did mini golf, I got to see Mr. Curls in more of a dad mode when he needed to be. He's a good dad, and it was neat to see that side of him.
"I liked goofing around with the boys. It's been a good night."
I was pleased that the boys got into the games like they did. It reminded me a bit of playing games with my parents when I was a kid and that gave me a whole warm fuzzy vibe. It's been a number of years since I started thinking that giving birth really wasn't my idea of a good time. However, whenever I think of my future, I tend to see kids in it. For a very long time, I've been telling my brother all about the kids he's going to have so I can be an aunt. A few days ago, when we were talking about Mr. Curls, my brother asked if that was still the plan. "Yup," I told him. "Besides, Mr. Curls already has two, so it's not like he's feeling the baby fever either. I'm still more into the idea of part time kids than full time."
"Then that'll work perfect," my brother said. "His kids are like rentals."
"Exactly."
It might sound shallow, but I swear it has more to do with the difference between liking children and needing to have my own biological children. With Mr. Curls' boys, I've been pleasantly surprised by how quickly they've warmed up to me. I expected more caution. I expected them to spend more time feeling me out before deciding about me. The idea that they were excited to see me Saturday is more than I expected. Like so much else with this relationship, it gelled more easily than I hoped.
I don't want to jump the gun, but these days, the more I imagine my future, the more I imagine Mr. Curls being in it. The more I imagine having a lot more game nights. I've always had the dream of a family of my own, even if that family wasn't the typical set up with me giving birth to members thereof. The thing is, though I've had that clear goal, it's always been distant. Now, in such a short time of only a few months, that goal seems to suddenly be a lot closer. The last thing I want is to get ahead of myself, but I like the idea of the four of us. My plan was, if all went well, I'd be adding one more person to my life. Now, if all goes well, I'd be adding three. It's intimidating. It's exciting. I just might be getting a family out of this.
Funny to think how it all started with a question in a bar.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Meeting the Kids *Dum Dum Dum!*
"Are you nervous?" Mr. Curls asked Friday.
"No, not really. You?"
"Um... yeah," he admitted.
I gave him an extra tight hug and sent him on his way.
Saturday, I got to the mall a couple minutes before Mr. Curls and the kids did. I watched them walk up, thinking, "That's them. Those are the kids." Then I gave Mr. Curls a hug hello and got introduced to the boys and we were off to play black light mini golf.
We got set up with our neon golf balls and clubs and decided to tee off in order of height. The nine year old went first, then me, then the other boy, then Mr. Curls. I was entertained that the only one shorter than me was nine. I was especially entertained 'cause I was wearing boots that have an inch and a half heel on them.
Mr. Curls won the first round of golf so I propositioned the boys. "Alright guys, one of us has to beat him this time." They were all over that idea. As Mr. Curls got ready to take his shot on the first hole, me and the boys made faces at him to ruin his concentration. It worked, too. The teenager won round two. As I told Mr. Curls, ganging up on him was a calculated move 'cause I didn't want the boys to feel like I was competition for his attention or such, so if I could be on their side, then it'd help avoid that interloper feeling.
At any rate, after round two, and Mr. Curls carefully recalculating the score card, the boys and I high-fived each other. Golf score aside, it was definitely a win because of how well the boys and I were getting along. After golf, we did lunch at the food court, then the boys went to the game store, giving me and Mr. Curls a minute alone.
"What do you think?" Mr. Curls asked, with just a touch of nervousness still in his voice.
"I think they're very much like you. I like them."
"Good."
"What do you think?"
He smiled, visibly more relaxed. "I think today was a good day."
He called later that night to tell me he'd talked with the boys about meeting me after they left the mall. They said they liked me. By then, I wasn't too worried, since there had been a couple things during the afternoon that told me as much - like the nine year old saying, "You're gonna come back to the apartment with us, aren't you?" So, you know, I wasn't too worried that they'd hated me.
Now I've met the kids. On to the next milestone.
"No, not really. You?"
"Um... yeah," he admitted.
I gave him an extra tight hug and sent him on his way.
Saturday, I got to the mall a couple minutes before Mr. Curls and the kids did. I watched them walk up, thinking, "That's them. Those are the kids." Then I gave Mr. Curls a hug hello and got introduced to the boys and we were off to play black light mini golf.
We got set up with our neon golf balls and clubs and decided to tee off in order of height. The nine year old went first, then me, then the other boy, then Mr. Curls. I was entertained that the only one shorter than me was nine. I was especially entertained 'cause I was wearing boots that have an inch and a half heel on them.
Mr. Curls won the first round of golf so I propositioned the boys. "Alright guys, one of us has to beat him this time." They were all over that idea. As Mr. Curls got ready to take his shot on the first hole, me and the boys made faces at him to ruin his concentration. It worked, too. The teenager won round two. As I told Mr. Curls, ganging up on him was a calculated move 'cause I didn't want the boys to feel like I was competition for his attention or such, so if I could be on their side, then it'd help avoid that interloper feeling.
At any rate, after round two, and Mr. Curls carefully recalculating the score card, the boys and I high-fived each other. Golf score aside, it was definitely a win because of how well the boys and I were getting along. After golf, we did lunch at the food court, then the boys went to the game store, giving me and Mr. Curls a minute alone.
"What do you think?" Mr. Curls asked, with just a touch of nervousness still in his voice.
"I think they're very much like you. I like them."
"Good."
"What do you think?"
He smiled, visibly more relaxed. "I think today was a good day."
He called later that night to tell me he'd talked with the boys about meeting me after they left the mall. They said they liked me. By then, I wasn't too worried, since there had been a couple things during the afternoon that told me as much - like the nine year old saying, "You're gonna come back to the apartment with us, aren't you?" So, you know, I wasn't too worried that they'd hated me.
Now I've met the kids. On to the next milestone.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Mr. Curls Is Off the Hook
I went to the doctor's office this morning 'cause this cold I've been fighting has felt like more than just a cold. After a quick once-over, the doctor said, "Looks like strep."
"I thought it might be something like that."
"Have you been around anyone who's had strep?"
"My dad had it a while back."
"Looks like you've got him to thank."
It seems it's all my dad's fault and Mr. Curls is completely absolved of guilt. Mr. Curls was pleased to hear that ;) Now I have to give my dad the what-for.
"I thought it might be something like that."
"Have you been around anyone who's had strep?"
"My dad had it a while back."
"Looks like you've got him to thank."
It seems it's all my dad's fault and Mr. Curls is completely absolved of guilt. Mr. Curls was pleased to hear that ;) Now I have to give my dad the what-for.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Mr. Curls Gets Nervous, But It's Okay Because He's Outnumbered
Last night me and Mr. Curls talked more about meeting the kids. He's nervous about it. When I asked him why, he had a hard time answering. It has to do with his latest ex, and concern for his kids, and the worry that me and them will get attached to each other and then I'll do a runner. I get it.
He talked to his sister about it. She's got two kids of her own from her first marriage, so she gets it. But, as she pointed out, "From the sound of it, she's not going anywhere soon, and you don't want her to. Besides, she seems nice. It'll be fine."
I think hearing that from her eased his mind a bit. Also, the fact that both me and the kids are interested in meeting each other helps. Probably didn't hurt that they gave him a bit of grief about it. "We don't think she really exists, dad," they said. "We think you're just making her up." Though, they admitted, if he really were making me up, he could at least have made up a girlfriend who's something, anything else other than a teacher. E, the nine year old, was sorely disappointed that I teach English of all things. Apparently, he'd prefer I was a science teacher. Hard to argue that, though. Doing experiments and occasionally blowing stuff up truly would be way cooler than grading papers all the time.
In any event, he isn't quite ready to name the date, but it'd bet we'll all start getting to know each other the next time he has the boys for the weekend, which means the weekend after next.
He talked to his sister about it. She's got two kids of her own from her first marriage, so she gets it. But, as she pointed out, "From the sound of it, she's not going anywhere soon, and you don't want her to. Besides, she seems nice. It'll be fine."
I think hearing that from her eased his mind a bit. Also, the fact that both me and the kids are interested in meeting each other helps. Probably didn't hurt that they gave him a bit of grief about it. "We don't think she really exists, dad," they said. "We think you're just making her up." Though, they admitted, if he really were making me up, he could at least have made up a girlfriend who's something, anything else other than a teacher. E, the nine year old, was sorely disappointed that I teach English of all things. Apparently, he'd prefer I was a science teacher. Hard to argue that, though. Doing experiments and occasionally blowing stuff up truly would be way cooler than grading papers all the time.
In any event, he isn't quite ready to name the date, but it'd bet we'll all start getting to know each other the next time he has the boys for the weekend, which means the weekend after next.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Taking It Slow, Taking the Plunge
This post is a kind of follow up to my last one. Over the past couple of days, I've had a couple of conversations with Mr. Curls about his social circle and his kids. I brought up my interest in getting to know his circle better, and he pointed out that, right now, the people who are close to him are largely far away. The most important people to him are his "sister" who's in town, his "brother" who's a couple hours away, his kids, who live an hour and a half away, and his parents, who're in Florida. He gets along well with his coworkers, but they don't especially hang out a lot.
In short, the fact that he's been meshing with my circle more than I've been meeting his is primarily a geography thing. Since I've mentioned an interest in getting more involved with his friends, he kind of made a mental note and said one of his coworkers had made a comment about how he should have Mr. Curls and me over for a BBQ. So, maybe I'm doing a BBQ in the near future.
Then, there are the kids. This weekend is Mr. Curls' weekend with his boys. We were together Friday afternoon right before he left to pick them up. He looked at the clock, which said it was time to go, and sighed. "It's bittersweet," he said. "On one hand, the good part is spending time with the boys. On the the other hand, it means leaving you."
"Since you bring it up," I said. "I had a thought about that." I told him that, while I understood his reservations about me meeting the kids, I didn't want to wait two more months.
On my last post, City Girl commented that it'd be a good idea to warm up to meeting the kids, "Would there be a way for him to incorporate you more into his world without meeting his kids? Baby steps (pun intended)." Then there's the advice of a friend of mine who's currently involved with a divorced dad, "Put off meeting the kids for as long as humanly possible. Don't get me wrong, I like my boyfriend's daughter, but... wait as long as you can."
It's sound advice on both fronts. Kids are big, why rush it? Take it slow, etc. However, for me, I'm looking at it kind of the other way around. I've already taken the plunge with Mr. Curls. The other milestones we've hit, the way I feel about him... it all adds up to me being committed to this relationship. It's gone past the point of wondering if I'll meet his kids and to the question of when. And, given my personality, a lot of times in these types of situations, I'd just as soon do it quicker than wait. My decision of when to have sex with Mr. Curls was based on the same kind of thinking. It's going to happen. It's right for it to happen. Let's just do it now.
Also, I like kids. I genuinely enjoy them. Just because I'm not chomping at the bit to push one of my own out through my lady bits doesn't mean I don't like them. I think it'd be fun for the four of us to all do things together. I'm having visions of mini golf and goofing around at the park, etc. I always liked babysitting, and this would kind of be like that - spend some time with the kids, then send them home. Perfect.
Put it all together, when I'd think of the idea of waiting, I'd ask, "What's the point?" I've accepted the idea that they're part of the Mr. Curls package deal, so let's get on with it. I know, I know, it seems over simplified. I swear I've thought about the complications as best I can without having gone through the experience before. I know it's not so easy. I just know that if I'm going to be dealing with it sooner or later, I'd just as soon do it sooner. No use putting it off.
So, I brought up the idea of me meeting the kids sooner than May. More like in two weeks when he has the boys again, or the two weeks after that. I told him he didn't have to decide right away, and he's thinking it over. Yesterday, on the phone, he said he'd talked to the boys about it. One of them asked, "But what if she's like the last one?"
"I really don't think she is," he said. I guess that satisfied them because when they were walking past the glow golf thing (indoor mini golf with black lights) at the mall later on, one of the boys said that's what we should do when they meet me. I take it as a good sign that me and the boys are already thinking alike.
I'm going to see Mr. Curls tonight after the boys have been picked up. I'm thinking that by tonight he may have decided on when would be a good time for me to meet them. It's intimidating, but in for a penny, in for a pound, right?
In short, the fact that he's been meshing with my circle more than I've been meeting his is primarily a geography thing. Since I've mentioned an interest in getting more involved with his friends, he kind of made a mental note and said one of his coworkers had made a comment about how he should have Mr. Curls and me over for a BBQ. So, maybe I'm doing a BBQ in the near future.
Then, there are the kids. This weekend is Mr. Curls' weekend with his boys. We were together Friday afternoon right before he left to pick them up. He looked at the clock, which said it was time to go, and sighed. "It's bittersweet," he said. "On one hand, the good part is spending time with the boys. On the the other hand, it means leaving you."
"Since you bring it up," I said. "I had a thought about that." I told him that, while I understood his reservations about me meeting the kids, I didn't want to wait two more months.
On my last post, City Girl commented that it'd be a good idea to warm up to meeting the kids, "Would there be a way for him to incorporate you more into his world without meeting his kids? Baby steps (pun intended)." Then there's the advice of a friend of mine who's currently involved with a divorced dad, "Put off meeting the kids for as long as humanly possible. Don't get me wrong, I like my boyfriend's daughter, but... wait as long as you can."
It's sound advice on both fronts. Kids are big, why rush it? Take it slow, etc. However, for me, I'm looking at it kind of the other way around. I've already taken the plunge with Mr. Curls. The other milestones we've hit, the way I feel about him... it all adds up to me being committed to this relationship. It's gone past the point of wondering if I'll meet his kids and to the question of when. And, given my personality, a lot of times in these types of situations, I'd just as soon do it quicker than wait. My decision of when to have sex with Mr. Curls was based on the same kind of thinking. It's going to happen. It's right for it to happen. Let's just do it now.
Also, I like kids. I genuinely enjoy them. Just because I'm not chomping at the bit to push one of my own out through my lady bits doesn't mean I don't like them. I think it'd be fun for the four of us to all do things together. I'm having visions of mini golf and goofing around at the park, etc. I always liked babysitting, and this would kind of be like that - spend some time with the kids, then send them home. Perfect.
Put it all together, when I'd think of the idea of waiting, I'd ask, "What's the point?" I've accepted the idea that they're part of the Mr. Curls package deal, so let's get on with it. I know, I know, it seems over simplified. I swear I've thought about the complications as best I can without having gone through the experience before. I know it's not so easy. I just know that if I'm going to be dealing with it sooner or later, I'd just as soon do it sooner. No use putting it off.
So, I brought up the idea of me meeting the kids sooner than May. More like in two weeks when he has the boys again, or the two weeks after that. I told him he didn't have to decide right away, and he's thinking it over. Yesterday, on the phone, he said he'd talked to the boys about it. One of them asked, "But what if she's like the last one?"
"I really don't think she is," he said. I guess that satisfied them because when they were walking past the glow golf thing (indoor mini golf with black lights) at the mall later on, one of the boys said that's what we should do when they meet me. I take it as a good sign that me and the boys are already thinking alike.
I'm going to see Mr. Curls tonight after the boys have been picked up. I'm thinking that by tonight he may have decided on when would be a good time for me to meet them. It's intimidating, but in for a penny, in for a pound, right?
Friday, March 12, 2010
Another Offspring Conversation
Last night, while I was on the phone with Mr. Curls, the subject of his kids and me meeting them came up again. It started with him telling me about a conversation he had with one of his good friends who lives a couple hours away.
"He asked me when I'd bring you and the boys up to visit. I told him it wouldn't be for a while yet, that you and I are taking things slow."
He kind of hesitated, like he was gauging my reaction. Testing the idea, maybe? When we've talked about meeting the kids, Mr. Curls has said that sometime before the boys are on summer break was what he was thinking. I'm thinking summer break is still two months away. I'm thinking that two more months of Mr. Curls going MIA every time he has the boys for the weekend is not ideal.
I'm not saying I've got mommy cravings, but the idea of Mr. Curls being totally off limits just 'cause his kids are with him is something I'm over. Not that I want to meet the kids ASAP, but two more months seems long.
Part of it, too, might be that Mr. Curls has met my people. He's come with me to a few social gatherings with my people. He's getting to be part of my whole circle. Then, on his side, I went to the wedding. I didn't really get to talk to his people much, 'cause they were busy with the wedding, and the most I've really talked to anyone who's important to him is a handful of sentences. I know it's not a matter of him trying to keep me a secret, but it does seem like there's some hesitation on his part about me mixing too much with his people.
He said something about how he was worried that me meeting the boys might scare me off. He said it jokingly, but the joke was kind of forced. It's like he wants to keep me separate because he's worried that I'll only like him outside of his natural habitat or something. It's weird. Or, maybe it's the novelty of the new girlfriend? I'm all new and shiny, so I'm like the new hobby that's pulled him away from his routine and the socializing that went with it? I dunno. It could be something, it could be nothing, but either way, I think it merits a mention.
I've become invested in Mr. Curls. He's important enough to me that I like being a part of his life. Now, I want to be involved with the rest of the parts of his life.
"He asked me when I'd bring you and the boys up to visit. I told him it wouldn't be for a while yet, that you and I are taking things slow."
He kind of hesitated, like he was gauging my reaction. Testing the idea, maybe? When we've talked about meeting the kids, Mr. Curls has said that sometime before the boys are on summer break was what he was thinking. I'm thinking summer break is still two months away. I'm thinking that two more months of Mr. Curls going MIA every time he has the boys for the weekend is not ideal.
I'm not saying I've got mommy cravings, but the idea of Mr. Curls being totally off limits just 'cause his kids are with him is something I'm over. Not that I want to meet the kids ASAP, but two more months seems long.
Part of it, too, might be that Mr. Curls has met my people. He's come with me to a few social gatherings with my people. He's getting to be part of my whole circle. Then, on his side, I went to the wedding. I didn't really get to talk to his people much, 'cause they were busy with the wedding, and the most I've really talked to anyone who's important to him is a handful of sentences. I know it's not a matter of him trying to keep me a secret, but it does seem like there's some hesitation on his part about me mixing too much with his people.
He said something about how he was worried that me meeting the boys might scare me off. He said it jokingly, but the joke was kind of forced. It's like he wants to keep me separate because he's worried that I'll only like him outside of his natural habitat or something. It's weird. Or, maybe it's the novelty of the new girlfriend? I'm all new and shiny, so I'm like the new hobby that's pulled him away from his routine and the socializing that went with it? I dunno. It could be something, it could be nothing, but either way, I think it merits a mention.
I've become invested in Mr. Curls. He's important enough to me that I like being a part of his life. Now, I want to be involved with the rest of the parts of his life.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
The Envelope
Mom and dad are off to visit my brother for twelve days and they, mom in particular, wanted to see me before they headed to the airport. I stopped by on my way to campus and, along with just wanting to say bye, they also had something for me. Or, rather, something for me to give to Mr. Curls.
Mom handed me a bag of cookies, for me, and an envelope addressed to Mr. Curls.
"What's this?"
"Is your name on it?" Mom asked.
"No."
"Then you don't need to know, do you?" She winked.
Oh dear. Knowing my mom, it's a card that says something like, "It was nice to meet you." It's just a little weird, you know? I hope it doesn't freak Mr. Curls out. There's something stuffed inside the envelope along with the card, too, and my curiosity is killing me. A cookie, perhaps? I dunno. But, mom and Mr. Curls are exchanging correspondence now, it seems. Not sure what to make of that.
Mom handed me a bag of cookies, for me, and an envelope addressed to Mr. Curls.
"What's this?"
"Is your name on it?" Mom asked.
"No."
"Then you don't need to know, do you?" She winked.
Oh dear. Knowing my mom, it's a card that says something like, "It was nice to meet you." It's just a little weird, you know? I hope it doesn't freak Mr. Curls out. There's something stuffed inside the envelope along with the card, too, and my curiosity is killing me. A cookie, perhaps? I dunno. But, mom and Mr. Curls are exchanging correspondence now, it seems. Not sure what to make of that.
Monday, March 1, 2010
The Day Where Mr. Curls Meets... Everybody
Up to this point, Mr. Curls had met two of my friends. Then, on Sunday, he met just about everybody else who's important to me.
The first stop was brunch with my parents. He was a bit nervous, but I reassured him that it'd be fine. And, it was. They liked him, he liked them, and before long, they were getting along like it wasn't the first time they'd met. Since I was an easy target for getting picked on, they even had some common ground right away ;)
Once my mom had made sure Mr. Curls was well-fed, we were off to meet up with the big group of my writers' crew for dinner. We made a few stops in between to kill time between meals, then we met up with the gang. After the crew gave him the once over, especially the guys, they warmed up to him right away. He's good at getting along with people and it wasn't long before Mr. Curls was cracking a few jokes right along with everyone else.
On the drive home, Mr. Curls remarked, "Your parents, your friends, they act like they expect to see more of me."
"That's the plan."
He smiled. "I like that."
I was so glad that Mr. Curls hit it off with my parents and with my friends. The fact that they like each other is a good sign. I especially like the part where he wanted to meet them. The fact that when I brought up the idea of dinner, he was not just willing to go, but even excited, is important to me. He wants to know the people who're important to me.
Today, my parents came by to drop something off, and it didn't take them long to grill me.
"We didn't want to put him on the spot yesterday, but now we're going to put you on the spot," my dad said. "So... has he ever been married?"
I hesitated a moment, but since dad had asked me directly, I answered truthfully. A few more questions, and they were filled in on Mr. Curls' complications. They were thoughtful. Mom reminded me to be cautious.
"Yeah," I said. "We've talked about it all and we're taking things slow. If this is going to work out, we'll have plenty of time for things like me meeting his kids. No need to rush."
Mom nodded, reassured. "Good."
"He's more complicated that I would have hoped, but I really like him, and he's a good guy."
"Maybe we'll bring out the baby photos next time we see him," mom said, giving me a wink. So, my parents, like my friends, have their concerns, but they aren't telling me to run screaming.
"Something must be wrong with me," my dad said, "I actually like my daughter's boyfriend."
The first stop was brunch with my parents. He was a bit nervous, but I reassured him that it'd be fine. And, it was. They liked him, he liked them, and before long, they were getting along like it wasn't the first time they'd met. Since I was an easy target for getting picked on, they even had some common ground right away ;)
Once my mom had made sure Mr. Curls was well-fed, we were off to meet up with the big group of my writers' crew for dinner. We made a few stops in between to kill time between meals, then we met up with the gang. After the crew gave him the once over, especially the guys, they warmed up to him right away. He's good at getting along with people and it wasn't long before Mr. Curls was cracking a few jokes right along with everyone else.
On the drive home, Mr. Curls remarked, "Your parents, your friends, they act like they expect to see more of me."
"That's the plan."
He smiled. "I like that."
I was so glad that Mr. Curls hit it off with my parents and with my friends. The fact that they like each other is a good sign. I especially like the part where he wanted to meet them. The fact that when I brought up the idea of dinner, he was not just willing to go, but even excited, is important to me. He wants to know the people who're important to me.
Today, my parents came by to drop something off, and it didn't take them long to grill me.
"We didn't want to put him on the spot yesterday, but now we're going to put you on the spot," my dad said. "So... has he ever been married?"
I hesitated a moment, but since dad had asked me directly, I answered truthfully. A few more questions, and they were filled in on Mr. Curls' complications. They were thoughtful. Mom reminded me to be cautious.
"Yeah," I said. "We've talked about it all and we're taking things slow. If this is going to work out, we'll have plenty of time for things like me meeting his kids. No need to rush."
Mom nodded, reassured. "Good."
"He's more complicated that I would have hoped, but I really like him, and he's a good guy."
"Maybe we'll bring out the baby photos next time we see him," mom said, giving me a wink. So, my parents, like my friends, have their concerns, but they aren't telling me to run screaming.
"Something must be wrong with me," my dad said, "I actually like my daughter's boyfriend."
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Wedding
I met Mr. Curls at the courthouse, then we waited for everyone else to arrive. He and I got there first, the groom got there late, and everyone else was somewhere in between. I got to meet a handful of people that have known him for forever, including his "sister" who was very much the way I had pictured her - a lovely lady who's also very much a lady in charge. I also got to meet her mom, who's known Mr. Curls since he was born and is, as a result, rather protective of him.
After we were introduced, she smiled at me. "I'm so glad he found a nice woman." She shook her head, regretfully, "I don't know what he was thinking when he married the last one." So I got her official stamp of approval.
It was an adventure to be "the new girlfriend" at the wedding. Lots of "I've heard a lot about you" and looks that, while friendly, were also doing the math on whether or not I was okay. Everyone was pleasant to me, though with the wedding, they were also pretty focused on the event itself rather than me. I didn't get to know everyone as much as I would have liked to, but I did get a pretty solid impression. Mr. Curls' circle are all right people who keep an eye out for him and seem to think I'm okay. Cheers for that.
He and I took separate cars 'cause it was logistically impossible for me to climb into his Jeep while wearing a skirt. So, on the way out of the reception, as I was getting into my car, I saw one of his old friends walking to her car. She looked over, saw she could nab him while alone for a minute, and B-lined over to get the scoop.
In other news, I wondered if it'd feel weird to be at the wedding with the currently-in-the-middle-of-a-divorce Mr. Curls. I have to say, for the most part, I didn't think of it at all. No weirdness. Mostly, it was just nice to see two people get hitched and meet some of the people who are important to my guy.
After we were introduced, she smiled at me. "I'm so glad he found a nice woman." She shook her head, regretfully, "I don't know what he was thinking when he married the last one." So I got her official stamp of approval.
It was an adventure to be "the new girlfriend" at the wedding. Lots of "I've heard a lot about you" and looks that, while friendly, were also doing the math on whether or not I was okay. Everyone was pleasant to me, though with the wedding, they were also pretty focused on the event itself rather than me. I didn't get to know everyone as much as I would have liked to, but I did get a pretty solid impression. Mr. Curls' circle are all right people who keep an eye out for him and seem to think I'm okay. Cheers for that.
He and I took separate cars 'cause it was logistically impossible for me to climb into his Jeep while wearing a skirt. So, on the way out of the reception, as I was getting into my car, I saw one of his old friends walking to her car. She looked over, saw she could nab him while alone for a minute, and B-lined over to get the scoop.
In other news, I wondered if it'd feel weird to be at the wedding with the currently-in-the-middle-of-a-divorce Mr. Curls. I have to say, for the most part, I didn't think of it at all. No weirdness. Mostly, it was just nice to see two people get hitched and meet some of the people who are important to my guy.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Mom and Dad and Mr. Curls (Almost)
Saturday night my parents invited me to go to a play with them. They also asked me if Mr. Curls would like to join us. Since it's his weekend to have his sons, I told them he had another commitment. I knew they were curious for more detail than that, but I'd like them to meet him just on his own, sans baggage, and that's pretty much what I told them last night.
After the play, I called Mr. Curls and when I mentioned that he'd been invited, he paused.
"So, if this had been next weekend, when I didn't have the boys, would you have been okay with me coming along?"
"Of course. I'd have checked with you first, to make sure you were okay with it, but sure. If you would have wanted to come, I would have wanted you to."
"Really?"
"Really."
Up until then, I hadn't ever mentioned the idea of him meeting my folks. Meeting the parents is intimidating. I didn't want to push it. I figured it'd happen in its own time, so there was no rush. Also, I wanted to meet some of his circle before I threw more of mine at him.
Given his reaction, I wonder if he might've been thinking I just didn't want him to meet my folks. The truth is, I'd love for him to know my family. My parents are good people who've been through a rough patch or two of their own, so I'm confident that they'll see in him the good things I see and not just the complications. Besides, given everyone's respective personalities, I'm also confident that they'll really get along with him. Mom and Dad have definitely reached the point of being really curious about him. Mom's casual invitation for him to join us was my mom's way of saying, "We'd like to meet this guy for ourselves."
I'll talk it over with him and maybe next weekend I'll introduce them to each other. My mom will be thrilled. My dad will also be pleased, but in more of a getting the chance to do the threat assessment on his daughter's new guy kind of way. It's just too bad my brother's all the way out in Florida, 'cause I know he and Mr. Curls would hit it off right away.
After the play, I called Mr. Curls and when I mentioned that he'd been invited, he paused.
"So, if this had been next weekend, when I didn't have the boys, would you have been okay with me coming along?"
"Of course. I'd have checked with you first, to make sure you were okay with it, but sure. If you would have wanted to come, I would have wanted you to."
"Really?"
"Really."
Up until then, I hadn't ever mentioned the idea of him meeting my folks. Meeting the parents is intimidating. I didn't want to push it. I figured it'd happen in its own time, so there was no rush. Also, I wanted to meet some of his circle before I threw more of mine at him.
Given his reaction, I wonder if he might've been thinking I just didn't want him to meet my folks. The truth is, I'd love for him to know my family. My parents are good people who've been through a rough patch or two of their own, so I'm confident that they'll see in him the good things I see and not just the complications. Besides, given everyone's respective personalities, I'm also confident that they'll really get along with him. Mom and Dad have definitely reached the point of being really curious about him. Mom's casual invitation for him to join us was my mom's way of saying, "We'd like to meet this guy for ourselves."
I'll talk it over with him and maybe next weekend I'll introduce them to each other. My mom will be thrilled. My dad will also be pleased, but in more of a getting the chance to do the threat assessment on his daughter's new guy kind of way. It's just too bad my brother's all the way out in Florida, 'cause I know he and Mr. Curls would hit it off right away.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
*Cue Dramatic Music
A few days back, I was talking with my mom on the phone. While we were chatting, she says, oh-so-casually, "Has your brother called you?"
"Actually, he just tried while we were talking. I let it go to voicemail. What's up?"
"Oh, he just has a bit of maybe-good or maybe-bad news."
Immediately, I do "news" math. Mom's being cryptic and my brother, who never calls anybody, is trying to get a hold of me. What's the first thing that'd pop int YOUR head? "Well, mom. I better let you go and see if I can call him back."
I call. I get voicemail. Next I fire up my computer and go to Facebook, because his girlfriend is a Facebook fiend and if she's pregnant or she and my brother are engaged, I figure it's got to be plastered all over there by now. Especially, since she just had a status update about how her and my brother talked via webcam for the first time that day. I figure, a long-distance proposal by webcam could've happened. Nothing on the girlfriend's Facebook.
Logically, that made me think the news was something involving his pilot training for the Air Force. Maybe they'd found something in his physical or a test that made him ineligible for being a pilot.
The next day, at about five, my brother calls me. "So, mom says you have news."
He chuckled. Then his doorbell rang. "Oh, hey, I'm going to have to call you back."
It was perfect. Straight out of a sitcom. It took him an hour to call me back. An hour!
"Alright, brother, spill."
"Oh, about that. I'm selling my El Camino."
"What?"
"I guess that's the news mom was talking about. I'm selling my car."
"I'm gonna kill her. She gets me all worked up, for this? I'm gonna kill her."
Of course, by that point, my brother was laughing deep belly laughs. He thought it was hilarious. The reason he had to call me back was because someone had come to the house to look at the car. Someone who, a few days later, bought it.
Guess I'm not going to be an aunt, or a sister-in-law, quite yet. But, at least my brother's sold his car. 'Cause that's important to me.
"Actually, he just tried while we were talking. I let it go to voicemail. What's up?"
"Oh, he just has a bit of maybe-good or maybe-bad news."
Immediately, I do "news" math. Mom's being cryptic and my brother, who never calls anybody, is trying to get a hold of me. What's the first thing that'd pop int YOUR head? "Well, mom. I better let you go and see if I can call him back."
I call. I get voicemail. Next I fire up my computer and go to Facebook, because his girlfriend is a Facebook fiend and if she's pregnant or she and my brother are engaged, I figure it's got to be plastered all over there by now. Especially, since she just had a status update about how her and my brother talked via webcam for the first time that day. I figure, a long-distance proposal by webcam could've happened. Nothing on the girlfriend's Facebook.
Logically, that made me think the news was something involving his pilot training for the Air Force. Maybe they'd found something in his physical or a test that made him ineligible for being a pilot.
The next day, at about five, my brother calls me. "So, mom says you have news."
He chuckled. Then his doorbell rang. "Oh, hey, I'm going to have to call you back."
It was perfect. Straight out of a sitcom. It took him an hour to call me back. An hour!
"Alright, brother, spill."
"Oh, about that. I'm selling my El Camino."
"What?"
"I guess that's the news mom was talking about. I'm selling my car."
"I'm gonna kill her. She gets me all worked up, for this? I'm gonna kill her."
Of course, by that point, my brother was laughing deep belly laughs. He thought it was hilarious. The reason he had to call me back was because someone had come to the house to look at the car. Someone who, a few days later, bought it.
Guess I'm not going to be an aunt, or a sister-in-law, quite yet. But, at least my brother's sold his car. 'Cause that's important to me.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Conversations About Kids
"I don't want kids," I said.
My mom snorted and laughed like this was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.
"I'm serious. I don't want kids."
"That's exactly what I used to say."
My mom snorted and laughed like this was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.
"I'm serious. I don't want kids."
"That's exactly what I used to say."
* * *
I was visiting my pen pal (aka one of my oldest and dearest friends) last year and she was telling me about her plan. "First comes the wedding, and then I'm still deciding what should come second, children or graduate school. On one hand, it'd be easier to do school without kids. On the other, if I want children, having them before I'm thirty is the best thing biologically."
"Wow, you've really thought this out. I like the idea of you with kids. You'd be a super mom."
"You know, I'd never seriously thought about kids until I was with my fiance. Then I saw what a wonderful guy he is and suddenly, the idea of having children with him was just the most natural thing in the world."
She looked over at me and gave me a sly look. "It might go the same way for you, you know."
"I wouldn't want to say never, but I will say don't hold your breath."
She gave me another look and smiled. "You'd be a good mom, too, you know."
"Wow, you've really thought this out. I like the idea of you with kids. You'd be a super mom."
"You know, I'd never seriously thought about kids until I was with my fiance. Then I saw what a wonderful guy he is and suddenly, the idea of having children with him was just the most natural thing in the world."
She looked over at me and gave me a sly look. "It might go the same way for you, you know."
"I wouldn't want to say never, but I will say don't hold your breath."
She gave me another look and smiled. "You'd be a good mom, too, you know."
* * *
"Well," Amanda said. "One good thing about Mr. Curls' baggage is that most guys who already have kids like that don't want more."
* * *
On V-Day, when we were talking more about the ex-wives and his sons, I brought it up. "I know it's early in the game to bring this up, but have you thought of whether or not you'd like to have more children?"
He thought for a moment. "When I was with my first wife, she had some miscarriages which were really hard on both of us. But, she didn't want to take the pill or use any kind of birth control."
"That's really weird."
He shrugged. "So, I got a vasectomy."
At which point, I thought, "Score!"
"But, at some point, I think I would like to have more children and a vasectomy is reversible. What about you?"
"I used to never want kids, and it was pretty straight-forward with my ex, because he didn't want children. But, in the past year or two, I've started to think maybe. If the circumstances are right, I might be open to it."
We didn't go any further down that train of thought. For now, that's all that needed to be said.
He thought for a moment. "When I was with my first wife, she had some miscarriages which were really hard on both of us. But, she didn't want to take the pill or use any kind of birth control."
"That's really weird."
He shrugged. "So, I got a vasectomy."
At which point, I thought, "Score!"
"But, at some point, I think I would like to have more children and a vasectomy is reversible. What about you?"
"I used to never want kids, and it was pretty straight-forward with my ex, because he didn't want children. But, in the past year or two, I've started to think maybe. If the circumstances are right, I might be open to it."
We didn't go any further down that train of thought. For now, that's all that needed to be said.
* * *
The truth is, the idea of getting pregnant, giving birth, and raising a child or two intimidates me like no other. There's the issue of the immense responsibility of raising a child, compounded by the fact that having children puts stress on a marriage. I saw a statistic about how the child-rearing years are the time period when divorce is most likely. Put the two together, and I'm scared.
But, I've been changing during the past year or two. I've been building relationships with people in a way I was too afraid to before. I've been teaching and, especially last semester, I saw that how I interacted with my students was changing who I was. They made me... warmer. Having all of these students who had to trust me and to whom I worked hard to prove that trust was merited, plus spending so much time trying to bring out the best in them, it changed me. Teaching college comp. is not the same as raising a child. I know this. However, if I can do one, it makes me just the littlest bit less afraid of doing the other.
Besides, having been so single for a couple of years made the kids thing a moot point. Even if I'm more negotiable on the idea of having children, I absolutely don't want to be a single mother. Now, suddenly, I'm with someone who makes me very happy. Someone who's a good dad to his sons and who desperately wishes he could be a bigger part of their lives. It's easy to see how fiercely he loves them.
In the right circumstances, I can see myself maybe having children. Ideally, those circumstances would factor in being married to a wonderful man, having a certain level of financial stability, and getting pregnant by plan instead of a "whoops." I want to be ready for children. If I have them, I want to be able to love them fiercely, without ever thinking about how they happened too soon, or with the wrong guy, or any kind of thing like that. If I have kids, I owe it to them to be over the moon that they came into my life.
Now, for the first time in my life, I'm closer than ever to possibly seeing those circumstances happen. It's still far too early to seriously expect to be with Mr. Curls long term, and I'm still terrified at the idea of being a mom. So, I'm not saying I'm picking out baby names or anything like that. All I'm saying is that my mom is a smart lady (she knew before I did that me and the ex were nearing the end) and my pen pal knows me inside and out. Kids haven't really been part of the plan for my life, but I'm not going to say never.
But, I've been changing during the past year or two. I've been building relationships with people in a way I was too afraid to before. I've been teaching and, especially last semester, I saw that how I interacted with my students was changing who I was. They made me... warmer. Having all of these students who had to trust me and to whom I worked hard to prove that trust was merited, plus spending so much time trying to bring out the best in them, it changed me. Teaching college comp. is not the same as raising a child. I know this. However, if I can do one, it makes me just the littlest bit less afraid of doing the other.
Besides, having been so single for a couple of years made the kids thing a moot point. Even if I'm more negotiable on the idea of having children, I absolutely don't want to be a single mother. Now, suddenly, I'm with someone who makes me very happy. Someone who's a good dad to his sons and who desperately wishes he could be a bigger part of their lives. It's easy to see how fiercely he loves them.
In the right circumstances, I can see myself maybe having children. Ideally, those circumstances would factor in being married to a wonderful man, having a certain level of financial stability, and getting pregnant by plan instead of a "whoops." I want to be ready for children. If I have them, I want to be able to love them fiercely, without ever thinking about how they happened too soon, or with the wrong guy, or any kind of thing like that. If I have kids, I owe it to them to be over the moon that they came into my life.
Now, for the first time in my life, I'm closer than ever to possibly seeing those circumstances happen. It's still far too early to seriously expect to be with Mr. Curls long term, and I'm still terrified at the idea of being a mom. So, I'm not saying I'm picking out baby names or anything like that. All I'm saying is that my mom is a smart lady (she knew before I did that me and the ex were nearing the end) and my pen pal knows me inside and out. Kids haven't really been part of the plan for my life, but I'm not going to say never.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
F*ing Corsage
Last night was the father-daughter dinner and dance. I've been dreading it ever since I committed to going, but I tried to go into it optimistically 'cause half of our experiences of things come from our expectations - i.e. if you go to a part thinking "this is going to be the worst thing ever" you've got a self-fulfilling prophecy and you're not going to enjoy yourself. If you do the opposite, and look for the good parts, you have an easier time having fun.
I wish I could stay I did a better job of being positive, but to say I wasn't excited about the event is an vast understatement. My dread had nothing to do with spending time with my dad. I love my dad, he's a good man, and I like spending time with him. No, my negativity had everything to do with the event in and of itself. For some gals, the idea of dressing up in a fancy dress causes them to make high-pitched squeal-y noises. For some gals, the idea of going to a dance makes them happy. Not me. I've been to only a few dances in my life and I've enjoyed exactly none of them. I have a passionate dislike for those kinds of things - getting dressed up so I can go to a place where I'm surrounded by strangers so I can hang around awkwardly with someone all the while wishing I were somewhere else. A.k.a. my freshmen year valentine's dance, a.k.a. fucking prom.
It's not to say that I'm a hater, it's just that it'd take a very specific set of circumstances for me to enjoy myself at an event like that, and these circumstances were not those. My dad and I don't go for formal, so both of us going to a formal thing together is not ideal. Also, given the place the event was held, there was a fair chance of running into one of my students, and the last thing I want any of my students to see me as is someone's daughter - as a young instructor, I've got to do everything I can to hold onto my authority and being put in the cutesy daughter role (which is implicit in this kind of event) is not an authority-builder.
Right. So, my dad arrived at my house with a pin on corsage in hand. Talk about salt in the wound. I couldn't pin the thing on right, and then when it was on, it kept pulling my blouse down so I was flashing my bra and I re-pinned the horrible thing a dozen times, but I couldn't get it right and the pins kept sticking me. The best part was when we arrived, I saw that one of my students was, in fact, at the event. Or, rather one of my ex-students. I'll skip the details, but this was a non-traditional student who was at the event with his daughter. He had been enrolled in one of my classes this semester until there was a conflict where I was holding to my class policy (as stated in the syllabus I distributed on the first day) and he was upset because he felt it unfair. There was some drama, and he dropped my class. He was right behind us in the line at the door and then again at the line at the buffet. It was AWESOME. Fortunately, he didn't want to talk to me.
Then, later, the icing on the cake was when the event organizer was doing the boring "I'd like to thank" routine and she called up some dude who was a sponsor. "Fathers," he said. "I'd like you to take your daughter's hand." My dad took my hand. The guy continued, "Lord, I'd like to thank you for our daughters..." Yup, it was Jesus time. As an atheist, astonishingly enough, I was not pleased with the prayer. This was a public, not religious, event and I was offended that the guy just assumed we all wanted to pray about it.
In a nutshell, I was tense and uncomfortable the whole time we were there and I found it extremely difficult to pretend otherwise. We left early and came back to my house where we drank some hot cocoa and talked. That was much nicer than the dance and I finally relaxed. If I'm going to spend time with my dad, it's infinitely better if it's a mellow kind of thing. Just let us play cards, or fiddle with something on my car, or cook some dinner, anything else, just not a formal dance with all that emotional pressure to feel all mushy about our relationship. That shit is torturous.
Sorry dad, but when this thing comes around next year, there is no way in hell I'm going again. I'd rather help you rotate the tires on your truck.
I wish I could stay I did a better job of being positive, but to say I wasn't excited about the event is an vast understatement. My dread had nothing to do with spending time with my dad. I love my dad, he's a good man, and I like spending time with him. No, my negativity had everything to do with the event in and of itself. For some gals, the idea of dressing up in a fancy dress causes them to make high-pitched squeal-y noises. For some gals, the idea of going to a dance makes them happy. Not me. I've been to only a few dances in my life and I've enjoyed exactly none of them. I have a passionate dislike for those kinds of things - getting dressed up so I can go to a place where I'm surrounded by strangers so I can hang around awkwardly with someone all the while wishing I were somewhere else. A.k.a. my freshmen year valentine's dance, a.k.a. fucking prom.
It's not to say that I'm a hater, it's just that it'd take a very specific set of circumstances for me to enjoy myself at an event like that, and these circumstances were not those. My dad and I don't go for formal, so both of us going to a formal thing together is not ideal. Also, given the place the event was held, there was a fair chance of running into one of my students, and the last thing I want any of my students to see me as is someone's daughter - as a young instructor, I've got to do everything I can to hold onto my authority and being put in the cutesy daughter role (which is implicit in this kind of event) is not an authority-builder.
Right. So, my dad arrived at my house with a pin on corsage in hand. Talk about salt in the wound. I couldn't pin the thing on right, and then when it was on, it kept pulling my blouse down so I was flashing my bra and I re-pinned the horrible thing a dozen times, but I couldn't get it right and the pins kept sticking me. The best part was when we arrived, I saw that one of my students was, in fact, at the event. Or, rather one of my ex-students. I'll skip the details, but this was a non-traditional student who was at the event with his daughter. He had been enrolled in one of my classes this semester until there was a conflict where I was holding to my class policy (as stated in the syllabus I distributed on the first day) and he was upset because he felt it unfair. There was some drama, and he dropped my class. He was right behind us in the line at the door and then again at the line at the buffet. It was AWESOME. Fortunately, he didn't want to talk to me.
Then, later, the icing on the cake was when the event organizer was doing the boring "I'd like to thank" routine and she called up some dude who was a sponsor. "Fathers," he said. "I'd like you to take your daughter's hand." My dad took my hand. The guy continued, "Lord, I'd like to thank you for our daughters..." Yup, it was Jesus time. As an atheist, astonishingly enough, I was not pleased with the prayer. This was a public, not religious, event and I was offended that the guy just assumed we all wanted to pray about it.
In a nutshell, I was tense and uncomfortable the whole time we were there and I found it extremely difficult to pretend otherwise. We left early and came back to my house where we drank some hot cocoa and talked. That was much nicer than the dance and I finally relaxed. If I'm going to spend time with my dad, it's infinitely better if it's a mellow kind of thing. Just let us play cards, or fiddle with something on my car, or cook some dinner, anything else, just not a formal dance with all that emotional pressure to feel all mushy about our relationship. That shit is torturous.
Sorry dad, but when this thing comes around next year, there is no way in hell I'm going again. I'd rather help you rotate the tires on your truck.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Yes, I'm a bit of a daddy's girl, but not this time
The other day, my dad asked me to go to a father-daughter dance with him. To make matters worse, said dance occurs at the university where I work. Now I'm dreading telling him no, because I don't want to hurt his feelings. However, I'm going to have to tell him no, because there's no way I'm going.
While the idea of going to a dance with my dad doesn't thrill me on its own terms, the deal-breaker comes from the location. I'm one of the youngest instructors on campus and this dance will be swarming with undergrads, some of whom will potentially be my students. The last thing I need is for undergrad students to look at me as being one of them. I need whatever I can hold onto in terms of authority, and going to this event is directly counter to that. Doesn't mean I look forward to telling my dad this. I just hope he won't take it personally. Cross your fingers for me.
While the idea of going to a dance with my dad doesn't thrill me on its own terms, the deal-breaker comes from the location. I'm one of the youngest instructors on campus and this dance will be swarming with undergrads, some of whom will potentially be my students. The last thing I need is for undergrad students to look at me as being one of them. I need whatever I can hold onto in terms of authority, and going to this event is directly counter to that. Doesn't mean I look forward to telling my dad this. I just hope he won't take it personally. Cross your fingers for me.
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