Mr. Man Bun

After 4 weeks of Stay Home to Stay Safe, there are many thoughts going through my mind.  Every once in a while I have very profound thoughts about this time of social distancing being a reset for the world and a recharge for my burned out mind and soul.  But, most of the time it is business as usual in my New Normal of teaching online from home while my 3 Goofballs kids try to navigate their own way trough this new style of education.  It is an endless cycle of cooking, washing dishes, laundry piles, figuring out how to turn on my computer, fumbling my way through posting assignments and binge watching as many shows as time will allow.

Some moments of distraction have come in the form of UPS deliveries.  Almost every afternoon the UPS truck is in our neighborhood. Who gets all of these deliveries I can't help but wonder? What is in those packages?

Thanks to a couple of very thoughtful friends we recently had some UPS deliveries of our own and wow! Bella and I were very surprised by not only the gifts, but the UPS driver.  He is SO cute!!

Bella and I have many differences.  She is much quieter, calmer and more organized. She enjoys cooking and baking and cleaning.  All of the things I cannot stand to have to do.

 But, one thing we can agree on, despite out 30 year age difference, is that it takes a certain type of man to look hot with a man bun.  And our UPS driver wears it well.

He has been a highlight of the quarantine.  He arrives on our street like clockwork and diverts our attention for a few minutes just by walking down the road. We never get tired of saying to ourselves, "Well helloooo Mr. Man Bun."  I also love changing  up lyrics to old songs and singing it loud and off key, "Mr. Man Bun dream me a dream make him the cutest that I've ever seen!"

My sons cannot stand it. They think we are awful.  But, Bella, the dog and I wait at the window with no shame!

Sometimes when I am stressed out from hearing an overwhelming COVID news report or reading an article that is too intense with too many death tolls, I find my mind wandering. Sometimes, it's too much to think about. So I let my mind drift. Sometimes I think about the goggle marks on Trump's face and I wonder...how does he get that orange color? Does he have his own tanning bed? Where does he keep it?

To reign myself back in to more pleasant thoughts, I think of Mr. Man Bun.  Sometimes I wonder, why does it have to be called a Man Bun? Why can't it just be a man with a bun?

Ahhh, then I get back to reality and teaching and cleaning and dishes and taking pictures of my dog, and using ridiculous snap chat filters.

THAT Moment

There is a moment every year that a teacher waits for. THAT moment when a class just gets it. Everything comes together and the teacher thinks to themselves, THIS is why I teach.  Well, I was very fortunate that THAT moment arrived just before Coronavirus precautions shut school down. 

Two weeks before that last day together, I had started reading a book to the class.  It was the book, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamilio. My most favorite children’s chapter book ever. 

I was worried because it was reading assessment time. They were taking DRA tests and i-ready tests. Was I teaching enough? Were they learning enough?  What else should I be doing to teach them better? I was stressed.

I love reading and I love books and I love characters and so I took out my book and decided to introduce them to Edward. 

From the very first page they were hooked. I saw them leaning in closer even though there were no pictures to look at. They wanted to get closer to the story. 

They were alert, hanging on every word. Picturing the story in their minds. We took notes and wrote  predictions and each day I left off at a cliffhanger moment. They HAD to wait until the next day to find out what happens next. I made a BIG deal about having to read it together - no sneak peeking ahead. I put the book in my purse for recess so no one would be tempted to look at the ending. 

The suspense built.  

 On  March 9th I felt like school would close soon, so I knew we HAD to get through the end of Edward.  The kids wanted more and more of the story.

Thursday It felt like closing would be inevitable and we still had 4 chapters left.  16 pages! 

We decided as a class to finish it.  We sat together for 45 minutes! We read and read.  And as I approached the very last paragraph I looked around at the smiling, eager faces of my students. I knew what was coming. I had read the end 4 years in a row.  I can not ever read that last page without tears. As we got to the end, I read and wept and the students cheered and clapped!! We were SO loud that Ms. Tangredi came running across the hall to see if we were ok. She was worried when she saw my tears and mascara running all over my face. But students assured her we were fine! We were just happy for Edward!   

And I knew.  It was THAT moment. My students go IT!! They were so invested in that book, in that character. Edward had become a part of us.  Part of the 2nd grade experience. No test score can measure it. No reading level could accurately portray it. It’s something you can’t teach, you can’t quantify, you can’t force.  It has to be awakened inside of oneself. 

I do not know what the future holds, if we will go back to school this year. If we will be in a classroom together again. But, I do know my school kids are going to be ok.  They get it! They are critical thinkers and lifelong learners.

They are amazing! I am so proud of them! I will cherish THAT moment as I plan online lesson for them and picture them reading as we continue with our New Normal.

Cup of Perspective

I spent last New Year's Eve with someone that didn't want me there.  I've heard how you ring in the New Year can be telling. And it was.  Lesson learned.  So this year, I made a better choice and decided to celebrate the New Year with the ones that love me most...my kiddos! We had visits from one of my very good friends and my mom throughout the day. Then we made appetizers and drank sparkling cider and played board games.  The Game of Life brought out the best and worst in each of us. We argued and laughed our way into the New Year together. It was perfect!

I sat here on the first day of 2020 and I sipped my blueberry coffee. The taste brought me back to the first time I had that flavor 7 years ago as Oz and I sat in a divorce lawyer's office.  We were paying her by the hour to listen to us argue.  It would have been cheaper to stay home and fight for free, but neither of us could figure out the paperwork on our own, so there we were.

Reflecting, I realize how much I have grown since that time. I used to wear my grandfather's rosary beads around my neck and spray myself with sage before trying to mediate with Oz. I wasn't great at controlling my temper.  I was short sighted and didn't handle the unknown very well.

Having had some years of practice, I am navigating life and adulthood much better now.   Adulting took some getting used to. But, it hasn't been so bad. Thankfully Oz has stayed one of my closest friends over the years and his warm-hearted wife is a very effective mediator when needed.

Luckily, despite the learning curve I went through,  the kids are turning out to be pretty good people.  According to Luccio, "Life is the best right now!"  I have to say I agree and that's thanks to good friends, supportive family and these Goofball kids that are the greatest part of my life.

Happy New Year!

Isn't She Lovely?

When she was born, we rejoiced as many new parents do.  We sang, "Isn't She Lovely" in loud, off key voices.  She has a sweet, gentleness that we felt from the moment her tiny eyes opened. The doctor told me I couldn't go to the NICU to see her because I had pre-eclampsia and needed meds for 24 hours first.  But, I insisted and finally they relented and wheeled my whole bed over to the NICU so I could glimpse her face for a few minutes.  She was so brand new and had ointment on her eyes, but she managed to open them and look right at me.  I felt every bit of myself falling for her.  It was all over after that.  I held her nearly constantly for months. I spent as much time as humanly possible with her, while also wrangling her twin brothers who were toddlers at the time.  Eventually I went from wearing her in a sling to pushing her in a stroller.  And then, one day I realized she was over a year old and walking.  At nearly 3, she had to go to school so I could work.  I thought my heart would break and never heal when I dropped her off. But, she wasn't far. I took her with me to the school I work at and we are still there together 7 years later.

As she approaches turning 10, I feel like I can no longer look at her as the tiny toddler I dropped off that first day at school.  It really hit me this summer that my Baby Doll is growing up.

She has been spending a ton of time with our Cousin and her baby aka Little Cute Man.  She has taken to caring for Little Cute Man as a Helper, when my Cousin needs to get things done around the house.  She holds, changes, feeds and plays with him.  One day I went to pick her up and she was carrying that 1 year old on her hip like a pro. I was holding my breath as she trotted down the stairs with him. How can she be strong enough to lift him and keep her balance on the stairs when she is just a baby herself?? But, she quickly reminded me...SHE ISN’T A BABY ANYMORE.

I was still in disbelief until we babysat Little Cute Man together one night.  Any time I went near him he cried and ran to Baby Doll.  She had to pick him up and comfort him. She did all the care taking while I sat in the background.

That's when it hit me...SHE IS NOT A BABY ANYMORE!

She recently spent some overnights with our Cousin as well. In her absence, we all realized how much Baby Doll does around our house.  I was late for work and forgot my bag that she would normally have packed for me and had waiting by the door. The frog and the dog looked at me expectantly as I rushed around that morning because she normally feeds them.  the Twin Goofballs didn't take vitamins because their sister reminds them each morning. The dog poop didn't get scooped because she is is the only one that will do it without gagging and complaining (and because she earns money to buy more lip glosses.)

She organizes our bulletin boards with important papers and info we need for school, work and life.  She is the only one that knows how to get onto the Wifi because she has the password on a post-it.  She is the only one that thinks of lining the bathroom garbage can with a bag to make it easier to empty. She has an endless supply of envelopes she lets me borrow because I never remember to get them at the store.  She taught the dog to problem solve with a new puzzle toy.  She reminds everyone to brush their teeth at night...even the dog.  She folds towels like a professional laundress. She always has a fresh Sharpie ready to label everything. She stocks the First Aid kit on a regular basis ( I didn't even know we HAD a first aid kit!) She has created a mixture of soap plus water so it dispenses the perfect foam and she refills it without being asked.

I'm not sure where she gets the organization and forethought.  Certainly not from me or Oz.
But, I am thankful  "she's got skills" as she says. Her teacher told us, "She has the beauty and the brains!"

I love hearing her insights too. She gives good advice, even if I don't ask for it.  She is very quiet and reserved, but when she speaks watch out. She does not waste words.

For the most part she is positive when she offers her thoughts.  But, she is vocal when it comes to her dislike of my bathing suit choices or certain men in my life.  She has distinct qualities she likes in people and if you are dishonest or break a promise she will cross you off her list forever.

She has developed her own line of  lip balm and is an
avid artist. She styles outfits like a Fashionista.

She hasn't decided yet what she will be in the future,  but in the running: Teacher, Congresswoman, Lawyer, Doctor or Owner of a Cat Salon.

Whatever she may be, "I Will Love Her Forever and Like Her For Always!"

Furnishings

 If you lined up the guys I have found attractive, you wouldn't think I have a TYPE. At first glance, they seem very different. The way I connected with each is unique too.

Over the years some have meant more than others. Some were better as friends, others are stories that are only funny long after the fact.

But, 3 matter most to me because they have had an impact on who I am becoming.

One was an emotional connection, one was a physical connection and one was a soul connection.  If they were merged, they would be the perfect man.


Yet despite their differences, they are very much the same.  They are Protectors, nurturing, creative, funny, great story tellers and charismatic.  I do love charisma.  I have loved each of them to different degrees and in different ways.

 None of those 3 were The One,  but I found a bit more of myself from the lessons they taught me.

They have each gone on to different directions, new lives, fresh starts. But, I am reminded of those lessons when I reflect on how much of my home was furnished in their wake.

I have not lived with them all, yet my home contains pieces of them.

One left behind dressers and bunk beds for my boys and a poop emoji pillow.

Another left a kitchen table, TVs, tv stands, end tables, a washing machine, a giant ramp for toy car races, a bed for my daughter, a trampoline, a shop vac, some custom made bookshelves and a Unicorn.

The other gave me some fans, a lamp,  a robotic garbage can and a teddy bear.

Now don't get me wrong...2 of those men have made me so mad at various times, that I took great joy in throwing out some of their belongings. A well-worn orange Nike shirt was my favorite things to shove in a garbage bag. And I will never, EVER miss the 6 foot plastic Christmas tree.

But, the parts that I kept seemed to fit. I accepted them and have made them my own.

I used to think that being the one to stay meant that I was stuck, like I was tied down somehow with no escape.  But, as I learn from each lesson, I gain a better understanding of myself.

Being stable, having a strong foundation for me and my children...it's not being stuck.  It is a choice and because I have built that foundation so strong... I can stay. I have the freedom to stay and build. I don't need to leave in order to restart. I take the pieces of what I have around me and I add on to that life and to this home that I have made.

In staying, I have restarted over and over, but each time I am not back at zero.  I restart from where I left off, sometimes a little more wary, a little more ragged. But, more often than not I continue on stronger, smarter, and more alive that I used to be. I finally realized somewhere along the way, I have actually become content in my house and within myself.

These comforts of home remind me of what I have chosen to keep as I move forward on my path.

I value the insights, the lessons, and the furnishings I have picked up along my way.

The Scent

How much does scent matter in romance? I have wondered this over the last few years as I have dated since divorcing. My mom has a theory that certain people have "The Scent." We used to tease my aunt that she had it because men would swarm around her.  We did not think she had an actual scent, but men seemed especially attracted to her. Could have been her blond hair and blue eyes?

But, some people do seem to have an ACTUAL scent that is particularly attractive to others.

I have encountered 4 men over the years that have "The Scent" that I find inexplicably attractive in a way that is intoxicating.  The first time was T. in High School.  I loved his scent. One day I came home from school and said, "is T. here? I smell him."  He had been at my house while I was out and surprised me by leaving flowers and balloons.  Everyone felt like my sense of smell ruined his surprise.

Another time The Scent hit me was when I was in college. I was sitting in the lobby of my dorm when College Guy walked by and The Scent hit me like a brick to my head. I lost all sensibility and fell for him immediately. That crush lasted longer than it should have and I am fully convinced it was because of The Scent of him.  It wasn't his Joop cologne- although I loved that smell too- but it was his skin. His neck has this scent that I felt drunk from.

Oz didn't have The Scent. I stayed much more clear headed as I delved into marriage and family.
I bought him colognes and we finally both agreed on Ralph Lauren's Romance for Men. It was a nice smell, but it wasn't The Scent.  I think I was better able to navigate life when I wasn't caught up in the smell.

I did realize after we separated that although he didn't have THE Scent, he had A Scent. One that I was used to and found comforting. So I confiscated one of his shirts and slept with it under my pillow until I was able to get used to falling asleep on my own.

Up until that point, the two times I had experienced the rush of attraction to The Scent had seemed harmless. I was young and it didn't matter as much who I found attractive or why.
But, after divorcing I realized there was a  link between "The Scent" and toxic people/relationships.

I encountered Deli Guy. He worked at a place that I took refuge in when I needed somewhere to hide while Oz visited the kids in the beginning. Deli Guy was cute and friendly and after awhile we began dating. It was a disaster on so many levels.  I knew it a couple weeks in, but stayed with him for a few more months because he had The Scent. I couldn't get enough of him.

I dated a few other guys at that time because I knew Deli Guy was not The One.

But, shortly after that,  I met...The Wild One.  I felt a magnetic attraction immediately and when I got closer to him I picked up The Scent.  Stronger than I had ever smelt it or felt it.  All logic and rational thought was out the window.  Gone.   Years of toxicity and drama ensued.  Even when I was done, I wasn't.  If he stepped past the front door and I smelled The Scent it was over.

It's not cologne, its not laundry detergent. It is unexplainable.
Something just clicks in my brain and my judgment takes flight.

One man recently did not have any scent at all. Or at least I didn't think so.  My kids thought he did. They would say I smelled like him or his house.  My friend thought he did and randomly commented on it. She thought it was his laundry detergent.  I was shocked! I don't smell a scent. Nothing at all.

My friend suggested maybe that was to protect me. Like maybe my brain knows not to create a bond because this guy wasn't sticking around? Maybe it's a built in defense mechanism to shut off my sense of smell? Or maybe it is a chemical in my brain that didn't connect with his scent?
Or maybe I was able to see his genuine qualities more clearly and appreciate them without the fogginess of The Scent.

Hmmmmm....

Got me wondering...does everyone experience The Scent at one point or another?  Does it always mean toxic bonds? Has anyone ever known their partner was The One by their scent? Does Prince Charming have a scent?

Inquiring minds want to know...

The Kingdom of Ash

Sometimes you meet people for a reason...sometimes that reason is so you can meet their dog. When Neighbor moved in last year, I was petrified when I saw two big pit bull looking dogs inside of an electric fence perimeter. I  warned the kids to stay away from those vicious dogs. Never go near the perimeter or touch them or talk to them. Maybe do not even look at them cause what if they ran right through the invisible electric barrier.  The kids thought I was nuts! They couldn't wait to be friends with those dogs. But, I wasn't so sure. Anyone that visited me or walked by the house saw those two sitting there and were so scared! One friend wouldn't even get out of her car.

Eventually I met the dogs and realized they were just sweethearts that wanted to be my friend. As I got to know them better, I became particularly fond of Ash. She is so sweet and has these eyes that are so gentle and human like.  It's hard not to fall for her routine of cuteness and give her tons of love.

Overtime I became more attached to Ash. One day she was on the losing end of a battle with her sister dog and when I heard the noise I went running outside. I saw her lying on the ground with blood all over her neck and some instinct in me kicked in. I ran over to her and wanted to carry her home to take care of her. Of course I couldn't lift her and she was inside of an electric fence so it wasn't all that graceful. But, Neighbor brought her over to my house and Bella and I cleaned her up and snuggled her. I felt this bond with her when she looked at me. Like she knew I got what she was feeling.

Ash ended up staying with us and becoming part of our pack.  I am supposed the Pack Leader, but really she is our Furry Queen.  Me and the kids and Oz and Dorothy have all fallen for the charms of this little dog.  My brother too. He calls her The Unicorn because she is the most well behaved dog we have ever known.  Neighbor has trained her so she is a great listener, but as time goes on she is training us.

The kids had begged for years for a dog. But, I am not really an animal loving person. Also, I don't do well with responsibility or commitment. So the thought of keeping something else alive seemed like just too much for me.

But, Ash is different. She is a kindred spirit. She is an older dog so her energy is low like mine. She understands personal boundaries. So even though she shadows me everywhere I go, she does not get right in my face or lick me without permission.

Her personality is a lot like mine too. We are small and stubborn. We both like to to play with the big dogs even though we get hurt in the process.  And we don't really learn our lesson the first time around...or the second...or well at all. So we keep going back for more.

A few weeks after Ash moved in, we thought we would have her sister dog over for a play date.
BAD IDEA. Very bad. Within minutes together they were in a fight that looked like two lions on National Geographic ripping each other apart.

I did not stay calm. AT ALL.  In fact, I was the exact opposite of calm.

Neighbor was holding his dog by her back legs and kept yelling at me to grabbed Ash's legs like a wheelbarrow and pull her out of the fight.

Ummm...no. I couldn't stick my hands into a dog fight. I had met a women once that lost a thumb breaking up a dog fight. I wasn't going to do it.

So I just screamed and screamed.

Ash was so bloody and I thought she was going to be dead.  I just continued screaming until I finally got the courage to grab her legs and pull her.

Somehow we got in the house and I felt dazed. I know she is a dog. But, In my head she's a 2 month old baby.  My mom and Neighbor both think that's nuts since in dog years she is older than me. But, in my gut, I feel this instinct that I need to protect this dog like she is a human that came from my womb. It is insane.

Even insaner was when I heard the cops at my front door. Three neighbors had called the cops thinking one of my kids was getting hurt. So when I opened the door, it wasn't just the 2 cops on my porch...but they were up and down the entire street.  Once they saw that all of kids were ok, they calmed down a bit. But, it was a scary few minutes.

It was what my good friend refers to as... A Paper Pants Moment, as in "you are lucky you did not end up in the psych ward wearing paper pants."

Luckily, Oz loves Ash too. So he met me at the emergency vet. The conversation was funny when they had her registered as Oz's dog and I had to ask them to switch it cause she is my dog and he's my ex-husband.  "Ohhh?? So he's just her emergency contact?"  Yes something like that.

She healed quickly and fit right into the family.  She spends her days sleeping on the furniture I swore I would never allow a dog on.  She enjoys following me around and watching me put on my make up, get dressed, clean, drink coffee, sit, etc. She loves snuggling with the kids and licking Luccio's feet and face like he is her puppy.  She likes to sneak into Cenzo's Teen Cave and eat leftover pizza crust.
She shows off when we put on her tutu and call her pretty.
And LOVES rides in the car.  She is awful on leash but slowly we are teaching to walk "gentle" and "slow."  I take her to abandoned parks where there is little chance of running into other dogs- just in case.

We have all agreed that she needs a longer name fit for a Princess, or for when she is in trouble. So we have crowned her... Ashlyn Rose.  But, we still call her Ash most of the time.

I truly didn't think I could love having a dog.  But, I do. She is great company. She listens to all my stories and knows all my secrets. She has endless love to give and that is just what this family of Goofballs needed.  Cenzo said she gives him a reason to hang out with us instead of playing video games sometimes.  Luccio said he didn't know he could love a person so much.  I tried to explain to him that she isn't a person, but then we all laughed and laughed cause we remembered.. she is!

Not THAT Beautiful

His head rested on my lap, he'd been drinking and I thought he had fallen asleep. Then I heard him say softly, "You know you are beautiful. But, you are not THAT beautiful." My ears perked up.  What the hell was he saying to me?

He kept talking. He was saying...some women are the ones for the long term. You're kind and funny and caring and it's better to not be looking for someone that is just beautiful.

All I could hear was... ugly.

I pushed him off my lap and he sat up looking confused.

"What's the matter?" he asked as he tried to focus his eyes.

"Why are you telling me I am not beautiful?" I questioned.

"I never said that. I just meant you are MORE than beautiful.
I am giving you the highest compliment and you are pissed that I am not saying you are a just a sweet looking piece of ass?" he asked shocked.

He seemed genuinely confused. I felt genuinely offended.

Thankfully he fell back to sleep and didn't remember the conversation when he woke up.

We didn't rehash that topic, but in my mind I just keep hearing "you're not THAT beautiful."

The other day I was listening to the radio and I heard an interview and the guy was saying... my wife is so much more than beautiful.  She's kind, she's funny. She's the real deal."

It struck me how when I heard what this man was saying, I thought "wow how sweet!!"


But, hearing someone say it about me had hit a nerve.  Why?
Why couldn't I hear a compliment in that statement.
Where does that come from?
Is it because I don't believe I am beautiful?
Did I really think he was saying he doesn't think I am beautiful?

It started me thinking about... what is Beauty? Who is beautiful? How is it measured?
What does it mean to be not THAT beautiful? Or MORE than beautiful?

And why does it even matter to me what someone else thinks of me?

I must have some idea of what beauty is because I have taught my amazing little girl to have confidence in her beauty.   She 100% knows that she is BEAUTIFUL.  She is so sure of herself.  When she looks in the mirror she says "WOW,  I look good!"

And when she looks at me she says, "Mama you are SO beautiful!"

That little girl reminds me that beauty is in each of us.  We just need to believe it and let it show.

"Beauty begins the moment you decide to be yourself."  - Coco Chanel

Hey Neighbor

I had been thinking a lot about the kind of person I would want to spend my life with. I made vision board collages and did guided meditation to call in the One.  I planned to manifest Him out of thin air. But, I just met wacko after wacko.   Often I would say to myself... if I am ever going to find a decent guy, God will have to bring him to my front door...and one day He did!

My new Neighbor just showed up on my lawn last summer. He introduced himself on moving day.  It was funny because he has the same name as Oz and I have the same name as his ex.  I thought, wow Serendipity!

I went on vacation right after that and didn't think of it again for a couple weeks.  Then one night I was home alone and remembered it was Garbage Night.  It was a very hot, extremely humid evening and I already had my onesie romper on.  I luckily remembered to put a bra on before heading outside.

I went to get the garbage out and realized that the kids must not have put recycling out for MONTHS!! There were a ton of boxes in the garage.  I was soooo pissed!! I couldn't find a box cutter so I started just ripping them to shreds and swearing under my breath as I sweated buckets.

Then, I hear someone say, "Hey Neighbor what are you up to?"

Oh. My. God.

I was thinking...shit!! Please tell me that is NOT my new cute Neighbor standing behind me while I wear my onesie gross outfit and have the frizziest hair of the summer.

I turned around, sweating.  Yup it was him. My mom used to say "You will never meet anyone just hanging around in your pajamas."  Well...guess she was wrong for once!

He took out a utility knife and started helping me cut boxes.

 We started talking, laughing, debating politics and getting to know each other.  After the recycling mess was taken care of we sat on lawn chairs in my yard and talked for a long time.  Then we drank some margaritas and talked for a couple more hours.

He was funny and friendly and conversation just flowed. I felt like I had known him forever.
Since he had the same name as Oz.  I was convinced it really was Serendipity.  I thought maybe the Universe had been confused all those years ago and this was Oz 2.0!

A relaxing, fun summer of friendship turned into a Fall of more talking and even some hiking.
We would stop by each others' houses and talk and talk.  It felt like when I grew up next door to my best friend Steph.  It was fantastic!

Easy going, endless conversation, lots of laughing.


He was cute. Really cute.  He was honest and funny and stable.  I felt like I had legit Manifested him into my life.  But, I couldn't tell if he was interested in more than a friendship.  Everyone said he would never spend so much time with me if he wasn't interested.  The idea of the potential was enticing.

Then one night he asked me if I wanted to go see a band at my favorite Pub .  Of course I did!
We danced a little, talked a lot and drank until I threw up.

 And we tried to turn it into a relationship...

At first it seemed like everything I had hoped for.  Fun, great conversation, interesting dates, relaxed and easy going. We live in a great Neighborhood for dating. Breakfast at the diner, dinner at one of the Italian restaurants.  Everything is in walking distance. And since everyone in the neighborhood knows us, it gives new meaning to Walk of Shame.

But, after a few weeks it changed.  We started to have expectations of each other. He started calling me his girlfriend.  I haven't had a "boyfriend" since I met Oz in 2002.  I've dated. I have developed relationships.  But,  a "boyfriend" seemed different.   I didn't think that really existed anymore. So I was surprised.  It was nice.

It was an interesting adjustment with his name being the same as Oz. My name has been said in combo with Oz's since 2002 so it was funny to hear that combo and it be someone else. Lots of jokes were made. The kids thought it was funny. My mom refused to call him by his first name as it was too confusing so instead she started calling him Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, then Mr. Rogers and eventually just Roger.  One friend referred him as Oz 2.0.  I just call him Neighbor for simplicity.

Dating a Neighbor erases ANY facade you might put up pretty quick. They see you taking out the trash and wearing jammies outdoors sometimes.

They hear you yelling at your kids. I'd yell at everyone, then get a text saying, "hey did you get those kids in line yet?"

They see you without make up and undone. It makes it more comfortable and easier to get to know each other.  It reminded me of when I lived in a college dorm.  You bonded fast and furious with the people you met in the lounge at 2 am.  You live together in the same environment. You get each other in a way that no one else does.

But, the  relationship expectations were our undoing... who would call and when and how often would we see each other? We live right next door and we were used to popping over to each others' place whenever, but that stopped. A boundary went up. Walls were built.


The conversation didn't seem to flow as easily. One of us was always taking comments personally and what seemed like fun banter began to offend us both in different ways.  We started questioning intentions and motives.

We broke up once for 3 hours.  But, then I thought...wait...the Universe sent him ... it was Divine Intervention..Serendipity...and so we tried again and never spoke of the 3 hour break up.

We were together for a few months  and it  was fun...until it wasn't.

But, I had MANIFESTED him! Surely God had brought him to my front door for a reason.  So if it seemed like we weren't the right fit it HAD to be a misunderstanding right?

Well.....it didn't last. We eventually found that the things that make us who we each are didn't fit quite right together.

In the end, it was another lesson learned.