Must Love Kids

May 31, 2012 at 8:56 pm , by Julia

Okay, internet, I have a confession.  Due to the boring lack of activity in my dating life lately, and the fact that I am about to move to an area where I know literally no one, I’ve decided to take the plunge into online dating.  (I’m not sure why, but I’m literally cringing while confessing this to you guys.)  At least it will allow me to meet new people (not in bars, for the love of God) and if nothing else, make some new friends in the area I’m going to be moving to.

So, I’m trying it.  Is there something about it that seems vaguely pathetic to me?  Yes.  Do I actually think I’ll find someone that way?  Not really.  Am I going to get all crazy-chainsaw-murdered and stuffed in the trunk of somebody’s car?  Probably.  But all that aside, I bet it’s gonna be pretty entertaining, and I’m dragging all of you along for the ride with me.  Because that’s how much I love you people.

So aside from all the awkward conversation and presumably a hefty dose of rejection and probably being murdered, the worst part about this online dating stuff is writing a profile.  Mine is something super awkward and lame about liking to run and whatnot and people probably fall asleep just reading it.

If I didn’t actually care about getting any responses, though, I”d probably write something brutally honest and totally weird, just like the real me:

I am seeking a: Man

Do you drink?: Only when potty training.  My daughter, not me.  I’m fully housebroken and have been for at least ten years.

Marital status: Divorced.  Don’t judge me.  I see you over there, judging me.

Profession: I’m not as hot as a dental hygienist, but I went to school for longer.

Education: Someday I will leave school and get a real job, probably.

Do you want children?: I’m all set right now, thanks for offering.

Do you do drugs?: Only caffeine.  Well, and then there’s the speed.  I mean, I do have a toddler, after all.

Do you have children?: Oh boy do I ever.

Do you have a car?: …What the f–k?  Wait, there are people on here without cars?  Can I get a refund?

I am looking for: Basically a smart, fun, hilarious, educated, good-looking guy who loves kids and isn’t a douchebag.  Must have a job and a car and not live in parents’ basement.  Must shower regularly.  Must not be an axe murderer.

About me: Well I’m a single mom and a dentist, don’t hold it against me.  My daughter is my whole world, so mess with her and I’ll kill you.  I work too much but I love my job to a degree that is a little bit pathetic.  I can be kind of a pain in the ass sometimes.  Example: one of the last guys I dated told me I should dye my hair blonde because it would look better so I dyed it dark brown just to piss him off.  This isn’t coming out right, is it.  Oh, the other thing is, I write about my life for the website of a major magazine but don’t worry, I won’t use your real name.  Probably.  You know what?  Try to forget that thing I just said about writing.  There’s a crapton of super personal stuff on that site about my divorce.  Let’s change the subject.  …..I like long walks on the beach?  I’m going to stop talking now.

First date: Something that doesn’t involve crazy-chainsaw-murdering me.

Interests: My daughter.  Teeth.  My daughter.  Teeth.  My daughter.  Wine.

So, what do you guys think?  Would you date me?  Would anyone?

Job: I Have One.

May 22, 2012 at 9:56 pm , by Julia

Well, after all kinds of back and forth and craziness regarding my future employment, I can finally say that I’ve settled on something and gotten a job.

An awesome job.  In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s about as good as this whole “job” thing gets.  (I wouldn’t know.  I’m 28 and have been in school for-literally-effing-ever, so I have never had a real one before.)

I’m going to be an associate at a private practice in Massachusetts, about 45 minutes from where Caroline and I live now.  It’s a busy and successful practice with two other super-nice young doctors who also have kids, the office is beautiful, and my hours are perfect: Monday and Tuesday 8-7, and Friday 8-5.  I’ll have to find a sitter I trust to pick her up on my long days, but this will leave me four full days of the week to spend with Caroline.  And this poor child has been in daycare from 7:15am to 5:30pm nearly every day of her life since I went back to dental school and then residency, two and a half years ago.  I am so excited to actually make a comfortable living and still be able to spend more time with my daughter… particularly since her father is moving eight hours away, and I’m sure she’s going to be somewhat… out of sorts.

Basically, it’s my dream come true, I think.  I have worked so hard for this.

So all of that is a huge relief and very exciting.  I’ll be finishing my residency at the end of June and starting at this practice in early July, assuming I can get a Massachusetts license by then, because as it turns out, it is the most giant pain in the butt ever to acquire a Massachusetts dental license.  I need to pass a physical and take a legal exam and get a passport photo taken and donate a kidney and give up my firstborn child and wait, I’m not even sure what we’re talking about anymore, but all of that seems reasonable, no?  Thanks a lot, Massachusetts.  We might never be friends.

Caroline and I also found the most adorable house for rent ever, located in a fancy-pantsy town nearby, so we are waiting to hear back about whether or not we are cool enough to live there.  I suspect we might not be, seeing as how I have been known in the past to forget to pay my bills until whatever I’m not paying for gets shut off (well played, cable company) and I am a scandalously single young mom.  But, we will see.

So, things are looking pretty good for me and Caroline these days.  As my friend says, “Great kid, great job, great future– only one piece is missing now, Jules…” She means men, of course, and although I have pretty phenomenally terrible luck in that category, I’m sure that someday, all of that will work itself out, too.

And if it doesn’t?  That’s okay.  Because I’ve got my dream job… and I’ve got my baby.

Four Questionable Children’s Classics

May 14, 2012 at 9:44 pm , by Julia

(Alternate Title: This is Why I Shouldn’t Be Allowed to Read Kids’ Books.)

Have you ever sat there, reading a classic kids’ book to your children, and thought… what in the everloving eff is going on here?  I have.  In fact, I do it on a regular basis.  (Don’t even get me started on fairy tales.)  For your convenience, I’ve listed here several books to watch out for, summarized their questionable messages, and thoughtfully re-titled them to more accurately reflect their content.  No need to thank me.  I do it for the kids.  Let’s begin.

Guess How Much I Love You: Okay, I’ll be the one to say it.  Big Nutbrown Hare is the biggest one-upper who ever lived.   His son is all “I love you as high as I can reach” and he’s all “Oh yeah well I love you as high as I can reach, which is way higher since I’m older and taller and smarter and better-looking.”  There is no need to get so competitive, you know?  Your kid’s just trying to tell you he loves you, so maybe don’t be such a jerk about it.

Moral of the story: Anything you can do, your parents can do better.  Sweetheart.

New title: Guess How Much I Can One-Up You.

 _____________________________________

The Runaway Bunny: It’s sweet that the mother bunny loves her baby bunny so much that she’d resort to all kinds of impossible shapeshifting and crazy stalking and improbable kidnapping to keep him near her.  Wait… no it isn’t.  It’s the creepiest thing ever.  And I thought I was a helicopter mom.  I mean seriously.  This woman is gonna be all up in her poor future daughter-in-law’s business.  I can smell it from a mile away.

Moral of the story: Mommy loves you sooo much, honey, that if you leave her side, she will hunt you down Taken-style and drag you right back to where you belong, so stay exactly where you are, so help me Jesus.  You can move out when you’re forty.  Five.

New title: When Helicopter Moms Attack.

 _____________________________________

Goodnight Moon: Okay, I’ll admit that I love Goodnight Moon.  (Sorry, Margaret Wise Brown.  Didn’t mean to call you out twice here.  Love you, girlfriend.)  Still, books like this are the reason my kid takes 45 minutes to go to bed every night.  It is the original book of bedtime stalling excuses.  Whatever happened to just saying goodnight to each other and going to bed?  Let’s not encourage saying goodnight to the room and the moon and the cow jumping over the moon, (which is not real), the bears and the chairs and the kittens and the mittens and the house and the mouse and the wait there’s a mouse in here?? What the f*ck??  “Goodnight nobody” is right, because none of us are getting any sleep tonight, are we.  Get real, kids.  When I say it’s bedtime, it’s bedtime now.  Where’s the children’s Benadryl?

Moral of the story: It’s perfectly acceptable to take so much time to go to bed that it’s basically the next morning already.

New title: But I Don’t Want To Go To Bed.  Five More Minutes?

_____________________________________

The Velveteen Rabbit (or How Toys Become Real): This story basically traumatized me as a child.  Yes, I am sensitive.  (I cry several tears for each and every mean comment you guys leave me.)  Can we first discuss the “Skin Horse” for a second?  That is some Jeffrey Dahmer sh*t right there.  But mostly, my problem with this story is that it’s just super sad.  The little boy loves this toy and lures him into a false sense of security that he’s gonna be real someday and then gets all sick and sends him off to be burned alive (what?!) and then gets a nice new shiny one and forgets about the old one and goes to the beach, the end.  Not nice, little boy.  Luckily the rabbit does get to become real because he cries, and he runs off to the woods with the other wild rabbits where they all probably live another two to three weeks, tops.

Moral of the story: If you get too sick, Mommy and Daddy will burn all your toys.  Also, you can get anything if you cry about it.  Even if it’s impossible.

New title: How Toys Become Super Depressing.

_____________________________________

Postscript: I sent a draft of this post, as I often do, to a friend so that she could prescreen it for excessive witchiness.

Me: Can you make sure this post isn’t too much?  I think everyone on Parents’ Facebook page thinks I’m a huge wench.  With a potty mouth.

Her: Oh my God!!  You’re like the Ann Coulter of the parenting world!!!

Me: …That’s the meanest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

Her: Oh. I meant it as a compliment.

Sigh.

My Preschooler’s Top 10 Excuses Not To Go To Bed

May 2, 2012 at 7:54 pm , by Julia

(Alternate Title: Go the F*ck to Sleep.)

Anyone who has a preschooler knows that the only thing more impossible than walking on water is getting your kid to go to bed.  Seriously.  (Probably this is true for kids of any age, but please allow me to delude myself into believing that this stage ends with the preschool years.)  If someone were to tell me, “today I scaled Mount Everest and ran the Boston Marathon and won Project Runway and got my kid to go to sleep within five minutes” I’d be all “oh hell no it did not take five minutes, you lying liar.  Also, is Heidi really that hot and skinny in person?  Do you even know how many kids that woman has had?”

Caroline is three, and she’s pretty much the queen of coming up with excuses to stall when it’s bedtime.  She’ll go to bed relatively easily the first time, but then she’ll get up 45 million times with all kinds of crazy-ass reasons why I should let her get up and stay up.  (Fingers crossed she’ll still be this difficult to get into bed when she’s 18.)  Here’s a selection of my favorites:

10. There’s a dirt spot on my wall.  Can you clean it?

9. My Pooh Bear won’t stop looking at me.

8. My hair keeps getting in my face!

7. I can’t sleep because I’m thinking about what my preschool friends might be thinking about right now.

6. I feel like you’re having too much fun out there without me.

5. I can’t sleep because I just keep thinking so many thoughts in my head.

4. Remember how you asked me what I did at preschool today and I said “I’m not tellin’ you?”  Well, I’m ready to tell you now.

3. I don’t think you brushed my teeth enough!

2. It’s hard to sleep when my mouth is making so much noise.

1. I still need to send out some emails!

Let’s hear ‘em… what are your kid’s best excuses to get out of bed… or not get in there in the first place?

(P.S., I keep forgetting to tell you guys, but if you find my child’s off-the-wall comments entertaining, you can get your fill of Caro conversations anytime here, at my Tumblr.  Enjoy!)

Long-Distance Visitation

May 1, 2012 at 5:43 pm , by Julia

So lately I’m scrambling to get my life together for the next year-ish plus, including but not limited to:

1) Finding a job (or several part-time jobs) in private practice,

2) Finding a new apartment,

3) Finding a new preschool,

4) Sorting out the latest complicated situation in my personal life, which for once I don’t feel like discussing here (hey, there’s a first time for everything, right?),

5) Not attending the purse party (this one was critical), and

6) Figuring out a plan for long-distance visitation, since Tyler is moving to D.C. and Caroline and I are staying here in New England.

Yep… lots of changes happening around here.

I have several interviews and prospects lined up for number one, numbers two and three are dependent on the location of number one, number four is just depressing me and you’d probably all judge me for it anyway, number five is very much completed, and number six is undetermined right now.  Which is where you people come in.

Tyler and I have always known we would eventually have to figure out some kind of plan for long-distance visitation.  He is a paleontologist, and there are very few job openings for that, so he will likely always live far away from us.  He’ll be going from postdoc to postdoc for a number of years, but once he settles down permanently, I’ll consider relocating to where he is for Caroline’s sake.

Until then, I have no idea how to work this– try to stick to the current every-other-weekend schedule?  Figure out several longer periods of visitation, spaced farther out over time?  Who will be responsible for traveling with her, and how will we work out who covers what?  I don’t want to just leave it up to him and not have a plan, because I’m pretty sure he’ll slowly fade out of Caroline’s life… and they’ve gotten so much closer lately, and it’s been so good for her.

(Selfish full-disclosure time: it’s not just about Caroline.  I’ll admit that I’m freaking out a bit about the potential of going back to the solo parenting gig, because that was a tough road.  I love my daughter, but she is quite the handful at this age and I need a little bit of a break.  My parents are fantastic and will always help me out, but Caroline needs her father, too, and he has responsibilities that he should be fulfilling no matter where he lives.  So, we need a plan.)

Any suggestions?  How do you and your ex handle long-distance coparenting?  And if one of you moved and you changed your visitation schedule drastically, did you actually modify your court order, or just work it out between you two as a verbal agreement?