Hello all.
It’s been a while since we talked, so I’d
like to bring anyone interested up to speed on all the little things that have
been going on in my small corner of the world…
My
Boys: My
boys have been doing fine. Nick started
grade 2, and while he doesn’t seem to particularly enjoy school he is doing
well at most things, except reading. He
struggles with reading mightily, and what’s more he doesn’t seem particularly
interested in it. He loves being read
to, but has little curiosity in learning how to read himself. I’m slightly concerned, but not yet
alarmed. He excels at math, and seems to
love numbers which is a bonus. I was
competent at math, but found it dull and never excelled at it the way he
does.
In all other respects, things are good
between us. We have a better bond now
than we have had since I left, and he enjoys the time we spend together. It seems like a dog’s age ago when he would
throw screaming monkey fits on the sidewalk until he was throwing up when I’d
try to pick him up for the weekend. In
reality, that was only 16 months ago.
We’ve come a long way since then.
Little Gerry and I have bonded much
stronger since we last talked as well.
He rushes to the door when I come to pick him up and is so excited to
see me he sings the Spiderman theme song (Spi-ermah! Spi-ermah!
Does hmm hmmhmm hmm spi-er can!) and when I drop him off, he clutches me
hard, crying, and I have to pry his fingers one by one off my shirt so he’ll
let go of me. It feels good to be wanted
like that by your kids.
We’re not without our conflicts
though. Even though I only have the boys
a handful of days a month, it is still hard work, and I do not have a lot of
help with them. My parents are shut-ins
who do not leave the house, and my sister, as wonderful as she is, is not very
comfortable around kids. Gina, whose
apartment is next to mine and her teenage daughter Carly have been godsends
when things have gotten rough. I often
forget that the boys are still very little (7 and 2) and I lose my composure
with them more often than I should.
The
Ex: We’re
civil. And that’s about as far as I’d
like to be with her. No
passive-aggressive nonsense lately out of her camp. On that front, things have been quiet. Perhaps I think she may finally be growing up. But who knows?
Work: I’ve been working a lot.
50-60 hour weeks in the last few months.
This is the meat of why I haven’t been talking to you all lately. I had even taken a second job driving truck a
couple of evenings a week. I have been a
busy little beaver.
There’s been a couple of unexpected
expenses crop up in the last few months.
First was Gerry’s daycare bill, which was unexpected (the ex didn’t tell
me she was putting him in daycare until the day before he started, when the
waiting list is months long… did I mention she was passive-aggressive?) and
added nearly $200 extra dollars a month to my expenses, and there was another
unexpected $2000 bill that came up that took me completely by surprise. I had two options: deplete my savings that I worked hard to save
since splitting with the ex, or take on extra work. I chose to take on extra work. And the good news is that I am once again
debt-free and the ex has a daycare subsidy that reduces my half down to $25 a
month. The further good news is that all
that extra go-gettery at work has caught the attention of higher-ups and the
word around the water-cooler is that I’m being tapped for a promotion in the
near future. Nothing official has been
said yet, but this promotion offers a substantial increase in pay. Like almost double what I’m making now. I’m adopting a wait-and-see attitude, but I’m
cautiously optimistic.
The bad news? All that work, eat, sleep and nothing else
really depleted me. Couple that with my
mom’s illness last month (which I’ll get to in a minute) and I was practically
wiped out. So much so when I did take a
week’s holidays at the beginning of this month, I got a cold that I have really
only started to shake last week. In my
teens and twenties, I could put in 60+ hour weeks and still party until the wee
hours. Not so much anymore.
But things have calmed down now, so I am
not working so much, nor do I need to.
Work is work. But it’s better
than it has been.
Family: I alluded to it earlier, but
about the middle of last month, my mom was taken to the hospital with
respiratory problems. Turns out she had
a nasty bout of pneumonia that really knocked her out. In addition to that, she is a heavy smoker
and has COPD (which she previously denied, and did not take medication for, my
sister and I found out from the doctor at the hospital). She was in the hospital for about a week So for that week, I worked 10 or 11 hours,
hustled to the hospital with supper that I’d cooked the evening previous,
because she was not eating hospital food at all, and stayed with her until she
fell asleep. Went home, cooked supper
for her for the next day. Repeat for 10
days.
My dad was a walking zombie during that
time. My mother and him never had the
best relationship and were often on the brink of divorce, but he looked
hollowed-out and impossibly older than he usually does, and he’s traditionally
looked about 15 years older than his 67 years so he had taken things hard. If mom died, I think he knows he’d be off to
a home as both myself and my sister would be unable and unwilling to take care
of him.
Anyway, she was released after her
pneumonia cleared up, armed with a bag full of inhalers and whatnot, and
promptly went back to smoking 2 packs a day.
I know from personal experience how hard it is to quit, but she didn’t
even try. She didn’t even have a
pretense of trying. I’ve never had a
close relationship with my mom, but I want to see her final days reasonably
healthy ones, not ones where it’s a constant exhausting struggle to
breathe. But the choice is hers, and I
cannot change her. I can give her my
opinion and leave it at that.
Romance: This one is easy,
because there is none. Nada. Zero.
Nothing. In fact I’ve been out
socially twice (not including seeing family or playing soccer) in the last
three months. I have simply not had the
time or the energy or the money or, frankly, the inclination. My last post a few months ago says otherwise,
I know, but I’ve just been too overwhelmed to entertain anything intimate. Until the last couple of weeks, that is. Then all of the sudden, like a ton of bricks,
my libido started screaming in my ear directly from the reptilian portion of my
brain: ‘YOU MUST MATE NOW!’ over and over about 6000 times a day.
Fortunately, I’m a little older and wiser
now, so I can turn down the volume on that voice. Listen to him and follow his advice, and it’s
a recipe for not making the best choices.
Sex is there if I want
it. But it means waking up stuff with a
few women in the past couple of years I put to bed a while ago, and I’d prefer
to just let it sleep and look forward.
Sex for the sake of scratching an itch without any deeper emotion behind
it is not that palatable for me right now.
That could change, I suppose, but for right now it’s not a viable
option. One night stands have become
boring and awkward instead of hot and passionate. The next woman I get involved with I would
like to be involved with for a good, long while, even if it isn’t on a deep
level. If I’m resigned to another
friends with benefits relationship, I’m just as, if not more interested, in the
friends bit than the benefits bit.
I’m generally happy with the person I am,
but this is one area where I wish I was a little different. I wish I was a little more… I guess charming
would be the closest word to describe it, but that’s not exactly it.
Back when I was in university, there was
this guy who used to couch-surf at our apartment from time to time. He wasn’t special in any particular way. He was a decent enough guy, although very
irresponsible as he could never seem to keep an apartment for very long. He was handsome, but his looks didn’t exactly
give nuns dirty thoughts. He had an
average body, a little on the emaciated side, but okay. He barely ever had two nickels to rub
together and he was a pretty shabby dresser as he had one small suitcase of
clothes he carried around with him when he was between apartments. But when we used to go to a bar on the
weekend, within a hour he’d have some girl blushing and giggling and crushing
all over him and after a while they’d be slow-dancing and making out and
eventually he’d go home with her (or he’d take her back to our place, if he was
staying with us, while we went to an all-night diner after the bar closed). Every single time without fail. We all quizzed him on how he managed to do it
and he shrugged and said he didn’t really know, that he just started talking
and it all just fell into place.
In other words, he had ‘it’. Be it a certain smile, a gleam in his eye, or
some potent pheromones (or a combination of many of these things), it was just
something indefinable many women responded to.
I’d like me some ‘it’ too. Most
of us would, I suppose. But I don’t have
it.
I’m not self-depreciating, but it’s true. Very rarely have I ever had that instant
connection with a woman. I’m handsome in
a decidedly safe and average way. I
don’t make women swoon or do double-takes on the street (for the most part,
anyway), but most lady friends I know will honestly say I’m
handsome/attractive/cute in a generic, non-specific kind of way. I’m fit, but I’m not built like a Greek god
by any stretch of the imagination.
What I lack in initial charm I make up for
with intelligent conversation and quirky individualism. So while I’m not able to make a quick
impression (and often I make a poor first impression, because I can come off as
very aloof – in actuality I’m introverted and a little anxious around people I
just met), when I’m chatting with someone about something I care about, I’ve
captured more than one woman’s attention.
I also have a dry, sarcastic, but not mean-spirited, British-inspired
sense of humour that some women I’ve met find wonderfully funny. And I am my own person. I don’t pretend. Who you see is who you get. The guy who’s athletic and loves soccer and
physics documentaries on Youtube and collecting European folk music on vinyl
and playing dinosaurs with his kids. In
a sea of phonies, some women have found me very refreshing for this reason.
So maybe in my own way I have ‘it’. Just not in the way that I like. Isn’t that
a commonality we all share!
Screw it.
Once in my life, I’d like to give a woman across the room a fiery, come
hither glance and she’d return with a melting, sensuous gaze and as we meet in
the middle, we slow-dance passionately as we lose ourselves in each others’
eyes, our lips touching in a kiss…
Ahem… yeah, as I said, my libido is
screaming at me right now. Forgive me.
It’s unofficially winter now. We got a massive dump of snow over the
weekend, and I feel that is going to be that until spring. I bought my finest, cheapest winter brandy,
and I think you and I are going to get reacquainted.
Take care.
- PW
Well, add "good writer" to your list of attributes. And you know, what my mother said to me once (and honestly, she was not all that wise...but she'd occasionally come up with a winner) was that the men who have it easy with everything, especially women, when they are young, spend their old age alone. And I believe that she was right. I look at the guys I knew in high school and college, the ones who were gorgeous and excellent flirts and none of them are shiners now. But, there was my college study buddy who wasn't particularly good looking and he went on to have a stellar medical career and the quiet, shy boy in my biology class? He's now an award winning book illustrator with a loving wife and daughter. I think personality wins in the end and you have that, sir.
ReplyDeleteThanks. Of course, the benefit to having a space like this is that I have full control over what you see and read as it pertains to my little world. I try to balance things out, but you know how it is. But I'm positive you're sharp enough to read between the lines.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the compliment about my writing. I pretty much quit writing about ten years ago and this is the first writing I've really done in at least 5. Coming from an engaging and wonderful writer like you it's a real lift.