First Dates

Dating post-divorce is kind of tricky. I mean, dating post-any relationship is tricky I suppose.

My (now ex) husband and I met in college, and you know how dating is in college. You hang out in each other’s dorm rooms, drink beers, play drinking games, eat together in the cafeteria and if you want to get really fancy, go to Applebee’s on a Friday night. First dates weren't filled with awkward small talk. You usually started in a group with no pressure. Pretty easy.

Also, guys were plentiful in college. You knew where to find the single ones. Class. Bar. School events. Clubs. You get the idea.

That all being said, we got together when I was 20. If you do the math (ok, I’ll do it for you,) it’s been 11 years since I’ve been on a first date.

Enter dating post-divorce with a child. Could things get any more complicated? Probably, but this seems complicated enough for now. Lucky for me, there’s the World Wide Internet Webs chock-full of dating websites where people in my situation (and weird people) can meet each other with no pressure. Then decide if you’d like to take it a step further and <<gasp>> meet in person.

After a year and a half of no dates/not even being interested in seeking any kind of relationship short or long term, I guess I finally hit the point where I felt like it was time to have a looksee at what the outside world had to offer. So, being that I get out so much <<eye roll>> I signed up for this SUPER fun and addicting (and free) online dating app (with encouragement from friends and prosecco) called Tinder. If you’re single and ready to mingle, do yourself a favor and sign up, even if it’s just for the sheer entertainment of it all.

In theory, Tinder is ridiculously superficial. Essentially, you pick an age range and location, link to your Facebook account and you’re off. You’re presented with pictures of peeps matching your settings and a mere 400 character description. Swipe right if you like them, left if you don’t. If you both like each other, you get a fun chime and you’re a MATCH. Then you can talk to each other in this really inconvenient chat function. And if you hit it off with someone, you exchange numbers and then maybe you go on a date.

So, yeah. I just finished up the exchange of numbers/getting to know each other text talk and am setting out on my first first date in 11 years this weekend. He’s 28. Just call me Cougar. We’re headed to a winery for a little tasting/tour and to share a glass. A wise friend once told me to not agree to dinner for the first date because if you don’t hit it off, you’re stuck with their company for at least 2 hours. Good advice, I’d say.

Once setting up said date, I got all teenage girl and had a minor meltdown. But what do I wear? What do I do when we meet? Hug? Cheek kiss? Hand shake? Butt slap? Fist bump? Who pays? Do I offer to pay?  Am I overthinking this? Thank goodness this is a first date that involves wine, because I think we can all come to the conclusion I need a glass to relax my nerves. Wish me the best of luck.

Life Lately

It’s been a month since I’ve sat down to write for the ol’ blog. I guess you could say that life got in the way.

First, and most importantly, I moved. As in, moved out of my parent’s house where R and I had been staying for the last year and a half, post-separation. Before I moved back, I was on my own for 8 years. It was a hard transition for a lot of reasons, as you could imagine.

1. I have a toddler. Said toddler can be contained/contented/happy when there’s more than one person attending to his needs. I took down the 3:1 ratio to 1:1. I’m feeling like a need an extra set of hands. If only Wiggles had opposable thumbs…

2. Instead of running every single thing related to R’s health and well-being by my mother, I’ve got to make some snap decisions by myself. Should I give him Tylenol? Does his poop look funny? What’s this red spot on his face? Does he feel warm? Good thing my mom is a phone call and 4 minute drive away. Also, I’m not above texting pictures of my kid’s poop.

3. I have to pay ALL the bills again. Guh. No one likes bills. I’d been lucky to cut my bills in half by cohabitating with the fam. The bills are back. So is a household budget. Boo, boo, double boo to that. I’m slightly nervous about this whole “One income household” gig, but if I did my budgeting right (math isn’t my strong suit), plus the added child support, we should be fine. And there may even be some extra leftover for an economical box o’ wine for me. And chocolate. Definitely chocolate.

4. It’s kinda lonely. R speaks in mostly unintelligible two-word sentences. I’m sure he’s going to be a fine conversationalist in the next few years, but until then my adult conversation after 5:00 PM will be limited to visits from family, phone calls with friends and episodes of trashy reality TV. Unless I find a mate. Which, by the way, I’ve dipped my toe into the world of online dating. More on that later.

5. Oh, and the worst part (get ready for me to sound incredibly spoiled and prissy...go ahead and judge me) I don’t have central air. GASP! Window units are what I’m working with. Which will be fine, once I figure out how to get the place to one decent temperature. Also, electric burners instead of gas. And no garbage disposal.  And wallpaper. And a green and blue toilet. I swear, I’ll post photos.

But the place is mine, all mine. I was able to get my stuff out of storage and opening boxes was like Christmas. I was reminded of things I forgot about, reminded of things I didn’t take (Keurig...stupid decision.)

Time for R and I to make our own memories as a little, teeny family unit. Lucky for us, my sister’s place is literally right down the hill. I mean, I can walk there in 3 minutes. It’s beyond convenient. She and I are dreaming of the days that our boys can play together, while we sit in one place for more than 5 minutes. We’re thinking about digging a tunnel between the two places. Ahhhh.