Dating Profile Fail or Which Way Do I Swipe

It has come to my attention that I may want to date again sometime. The last time I went on a date was in the 1990’s, you know when the internet was still a baby and we thought flip phones were the best thing ever made. I remember back in college someone sent me virtual flowers and it ended up being a website with a picture of roses on it. He was so proud and all I could think of was “What the fuck am I supposed to do with a picture of flowers? Give me the real thing!” Now I find myself in 2019 and freshly single and 20+ years older than I was when I got married. How does someone even meet people these days? I’m way too old for the bar scene and I don’t feel confident picking up someone in the grocery store. Where else do I frequent? Target? The gym? Kwik Star? Costco is classy right? I feel like I’m going to be pretty limited.

There are apps for dating now and all I know is that swiping right is different than swiping left. Unfortunately years of teaching aerobics where I had to mirror my participants means I mix up my right and left consistently which might be problematic. What also frightens me is that my teenage Moose still laughs at me because I can’t figure out Snapchat (“just tap it, don’t swipe it!”) – if I can’t get out of a story in Snapchat, how will I ever figure out online dating? I’ve had more than one embarrassing moment asking Moose to get me out of the Kardashian story I’ve “accidently” clicked on. And then, let’s say I figure out how to work the app, which one do I choose? Match? Bumble? Tinder (no)? Farmer’s Only (no)? Coffee Meets Bagel (this has potential)?  

Then there is the pressure of presentation. I’ve gotten tips like, don’t use your real name and advice about what types of photos to use. My selfie game has gotten better – I always look better if I take the picture from above, which is fortunate because I’m 5’1 so most people are looking down on me, which gives me a much better looking chin so it won’t feel so much like false advertising. I’ve got about 30 extra divorce pounds I’m carrying around that I’d love to shed – these were originally baby weight but I’ve upgraded them to divorce pounds now because if you’ve been reading my blogs lately, you know there have been a lot of donuts. A lot. Perhaps the pictures wait until I am in a more flattering state…

And how do you start a profile? A profile? I’m not even sure where to start…

Tired mom of two boys, one of which hates her most days
Over 40 yo woman with limited time looking for someone who would like to read on the sofa next to her
Like cats?
Doesn’t eat steak so I’m a cheap date
Can’t ride a bike but likes to listen to podcasts

What if I let my kids help write it?
“She is pretty nice unless you make her mad. She makes you come in for bedtime at 9:30 p.m. and says if you are hungry, you need to eat a fruit or vegetable first because if you are really hungry you will be happy to eat either of those and won’t complain they are not a Poptart. Also she makes you wear sunscreen even if she does not. She does like to listen to the music loud in the car. And she swears. A lot.”

I’m not sure the kids would be the best people to write up my profile. The last time the Squirrel wrote something about his mom at school, he mentioned that he loves me because I buy things for him. That is not the kind of man I want to attract.

Maybe if I just start with a list of wants and turn offs in a relationship?

Wants	Turn Offs
Kind	Dishonest
Funny	Uptight
Intelligent	Humorless
Responsible	Irresponsible
Trustworthy	Angry
Honest	Smoker
Driven	Aimless
Active	Golfer*

*Okay, golfing isn’t a deal breaker. As long as we understand that this will be a solo hobby because I don’t golf and don’t want to because I hate it. At least until my idea of Tackle Golf catches on – combining the elements of football with golf. Picture it - while the golfer is lining up to take the shot, a full defensive line is charging down the green. Better get the shot off before you are sacked! Now that is golf I will watch!

And let’s say I make it to the point where I actually get asked on a date. What does one even do on a date now? My social calendar is usually one of two things – running after my kids at their events or going to the gym. The more I write the more I realize I’m a pretty boring person! I know that Netflix and Chill has a whole different meaning than binge watching the Office with my kids. Do I have to go to the bars now? That’s not a big thing for me and besides, after about 2 drinks, I don’t make good choices. And dancing? I love dancing but nothing makes me feel old and fat than a Zumba class. I’m not sure that’s the mentality I need if I am meeting new people. And honestly, I’ve seen myself in the mirrors at Zumba class. It’s not pretty. Can we just read books at Freedom Coffee? Or catch a football, basketball or soccer game? And I need to be home by 9 p.m. because that’s my bedtime.   

So here’s the thing. I don’t think I’m ready to get out there yet. A few months ago I wrote that I wanted to take a hiatus of a year after the divorce is finalized to figure out who I am now. I don’t know if I will need a whole year off  but the fact that I can’t write a dating profile because I’m not sure what I like to do or what kind of person I’m looking for (not a golfer or a smoker) is a pretty good indicator that I’m not quite ready to date yet. But what is cool is that I realized I’m not looking to fill a hole in my life. My life is full and awesome right now as it is. I’ve got two great kids, amazing friends and family and just enough free time now to read a book or watch a R rated movie. I'm actually enjoying getting to know myself again. I know I’m not seeking a father to my kids - they already have one. I don’t need someone to pay my bills - I can do that myself. I just want to have fun meeting new people and learning a little bit more about the world out there. I want to be inspired by other people’s experiences and have new ideas to think about. I want to make some awesome new friends along the way or at least walk away with some great stories. And that’s the kind of attitude I think I’ll need when I’m ready to move on. In the meantime, it's way past my bedtime if I want to get up to hit the gym tomorrow morning. #supercoolfunsingleperson #not

Dating Profile
I love to laugh but don’t like mean-spiritedness. I like to dream big and am always looking for new challenges but not looking to fix someone. I want someone who makes me think and grow. Dishonesty is a deal breaker. I love books, exercise, health, donuts and writing. I am scared of fish and most dogs but spiders don’t bother me. I am looking to have fun and meet new people. I want someone with a big heart, kind but with a sense of humor. Oh, and must be okay with swears.
867-5309

The Year of the Child or Pass That Polar Bear a Donut

Fuck. Squirrel and I are at it again, having another knock down drag out fight. I don’t even know what the topic is because it doesn’t matter. He is right and as always I am wrong. Oh my gosh I am so beyond exhausted from these fights and worse, I am frightened that my child is going to be an angry person for the rest of his life. There I said it. I’m afraid I have fucked him up by getting a divorce.

Contrary to what the Squirrel believes, I tried everything to avoid getting a divorce. Hell, I’m Catholic – Catholics don’t even let you take communion if you’ve had a divorce and they make you promise that NO MATTER WHAT you won’t get a divorce. (Fortunately I’ve switched churches because this is not healthy on so many levels – I’m not even going to get started on how this practice abandons you in your worst time of need.) However, for whatever reason, the Squirrel blames me for everything divorce related and HATES me for it. I have ruined his life and things will only be good again if his father and I get back together, which we are not. Ever. Like Taylor Swift song never.

Welcome to my reoccurring battle with the Squirrel. While the Moose has quietly (and unhealthfully) internalized his feelings, the Squirrel has taken them all out on one person – me. In my better moments I see this as a compliment – I am the safe spot, the security blanket, which means I am the one he rails on in his insecure, anxious and angry moments. In my not better moments, I am down. Does this child not realize that I too have taken a beating this year and am trying to become whole again? I cannot take more hate directed towards me, especially from someone I love beyond the universe and back. And the Moose?  He doesn’t want to talk to me about things that bother him because he’s trying to protect ME, his mom. He’s got his roles reversed – I’m the one who takes care of HIM. I am doing my best to make this as good as possible for them and failing. I just desperately want to hope that if I put on my best Mary Poppins, they will act like nothing has happened. Cue the laugh track. My therapist has dubbed this the “Messy Middle” stage. Messy, my ass. It’s the Sucky Season.

**The next two paragraphs have been redacted Robert Mueller style because my Squirrel has asked me to not share some of his “finer” moments. Let’s just say if war was art, they would be his masterpieces. Honestly, he gets props for his level of finding creative yet exquisitely cutting ways to take me down. Like a surgeon with a sharpened blade. Slow clap. I’m actually kind of proud of him for going all in. If you are going to do something, do it well. But while I am comfortable sharing my worst self with the world, my sensitive Squirrel is not and I respect that. So let me just say that we had an epic fight recently that made me realize I’ve got to up my parenting game.**

The Squirrel found the chink in my armor. He knows that I would do anything for him and the Moose and that my time with them is more precious than ever. That doesn’t mean he gets out of homework or manners, but it does mean that threatening my time with them by saying he wants to go to a different house than mine because he’s mad at me takes me straight into fight or flight mode. And this mama bear has never flown from her cubs – she will always pick fight when given the choice. And now that the Squirrel has discovered my weakness, he knows he can use it against me. Or so he thinks.

You see, for weeks I couldn’t eat because the thought of breaking my children’s hearts by telling them I was getting a divorce swallowed me like a sad whale. Sure I looked good but I was wearing a size grief in jeans. For months I couldn’t sleep for fear of not having my kids as much as possible after the divorce. I did not sign up to be a part-time parent. In fact, I have been the 100% parent 100% of the time since the Moose was born. Every cell in my body screamed against what I knew would have to happen. And while I knew that having the boys less could be good for me from a balance perspective, I have always been more than willing to give up my mental and physical wellbeing in order to be there for them all the time. I’m not saying this is healthy but I think a lot of moms feel this way too.  

My friends recently assigned me the polar bear for my spirit animal. I was pretty sure that this was because it has a fat ass and lumbers around. Let’s be real. I have been eating a lot of divorce donuts and skipping the gym way too much lately. I own that. They swear that’s not why. Instead its symbolism/traits are strength, endurance, acceptance and surrender. It also has a deep strong protective nature, meaning it will do everything in its power to take care of its loved ones. Enter my cubs, the Moose and Squirrel. Okay, that I can agree with.

So where does this all put me? As much as I need it to be the Year of Me, I’m going to have to share this with the Year of the Child. You see, my babies are going through the stages of grief as much as I am. I can get frustrated every time the Squirrel tells me that my new last name is wrong or I can recognize he is going through denial (one of the first stages of grief) and look at him and say, “having a tough time with the divorce right now?” My Moose can become a statue sometimes and I can let it go and give him space. And he’s a teenager and maybe that’s what I should do, but I don’t. I ask the hard questions like, “was I inappropriate back there?”, “is there any way I can personally make this better for you?” and “what is the story going on in your head?” I may not always like his answers but I am getting better at accepting them with an open heart because I’m far from perfect and I too am learning to navigate this new terrain. I’m not going to be better at this if I don’t learn from my mistakes. And I make a lot of mistakes. I am not a Zen Jen, at least not yet.

One of the side effects of divorce is that I do have less time with my kids than I am used to. Wow, that sucks. But instead of wallowing in it, I’m going to try to make the best of it. I recognize that I’m going to need to Mom harder than I ever have before, and frankly, I’m licking my wounds too. So those days I don’t have my babies? That’s Jen time. That’s where I do my healing and my resting. So far I’m terrible at the resting part and instead am nesting into new open spaces in my home. But that’s a form of healing too – making this space mine, a place where we feel safe, a place that radiates love and feels like me again. Friends, I found my college CDs and have been blaring Alanis Morrisette and the Dixie Chicks throughout the house. It feels good (and old, oh so old.) And on those many days where I have my babies? That’s the Year of the Child. While way too often I fail, I am trying to remember that this is their year to heal too and I’m going to need to bring my A game as much as possible to help them through this new season of life. And if I do this right, instead of fucking them up for life by getting a divorce, hopefully they will learn how to adapt to change, accept new situations, see that things that are buried are actually planted, and that we will bloom with love and laughter again. They will learn that when things look bleak, we are a team that supports each other even when it is ugly and hopefully that gives them a sense of security I could not have created without a major life event. You can’t become resilient without adversity. And this polar bear is resilient, fat ass and all, and is teaching her cubs to be the same. Now if she could only switch to a fish-based diet instead of donuts, she’d be in really good shape. But she hates fish so maybe just more fruits and vegetables. One thing at a time. It is the Year of the Child after all and they really like their donuts.