On survival

Loving yourself is not something that we're taught. But the reality is, if you want to survive, that you have to take care of yourself. That's been my philosophy throughout life: help others, but take care of self first, physically and emotionally. If you give without replenishing self, then you have nothing left to give. And that has always been one of my fears: not replenishing myself and having nothing left to give.

I give to G without reservation. But I also know that one day he'll grow up and I'll have to worry more about myself than him. And undoubtedly, that day will come sooner than I expect. And sometimes it seems like a tossup, if I'll have the patience to live with someone again (besides G).

Adjusting to someone's habits is so difficult. Is it really worthwhile? My aunt Urusla would probably say no. I was shocked to find out that she and her husband were separated a good portion of their marriage, before his death. My parents would say yes, but their marriage isn't too far from the deplorable Punch and Judy skits. I've seen enough marriages like that.

I'd like to be an idealist and say yes, but my yes would have caveats. Because it seems too easy for people to forget what brought them together. It seems too easy for people to cast their partner's emotional worth aside when they focus on what irritates and offends them. It seems too easy for people to forget how to show each other respect and dignity.

It would be nice to be a saint in this category, but of course I'm not. Finding fault (privately) used to be my hobby. The majority of men I've dated: except for the ex, they were all a size 32. Funny how that works out. If they were cute, they weren't smart enough. Porter was smart but he was on the geeky side of cute. Eric was the best looking and I cringed at the way other girls threw themselves at him (honestly, some women have no pride) but as much as I cared about him, we couldn't truly converse, not as equals.

My first boyfriend may have been the best: he was good looking, he was funny, I was a part of his family and they were wonderful... but he was not responsible enough and I was just too young, starting college. They say he married a girl that looked like me, they had a daughter and now they're divorced.

Drue, I'm not sure. Care about him, love him but that doesn't seem to be enough (from his end). He has been finding fault with me more frequently and it's a concern. Because at the end of the day, you either love each other or you don't. Accept each other or you don't. And it's a frustration.

The golden rule: protect self and survive. But it's nice to share moments, when you can. And G, what am I teaching him? Will he learn to be afraid of intimacy? I always want the easy answers. Even though I know they're not always available, I still want them.

Birthday Notes

I should mention, the birthday was not too shabby. The little guy had pink eye, which was a downer. But Drue came through and showed me one of the best times that I've ever had: homemade card (my favorites), nice cashmere sweater and dinner at 2941 . It almost makes me want to work for General Dynamics, those folks are so lucky to have such fine dining on hand!

Dinner consisted of tuna tartare with avocado (a pairing I couldn't have imagined, but it was delectable) and venison. The tuna tartare was the better course. Wine was from St. Emillion, France, so I had to have it. And the bill experience was brightened by cotton candy (pina colada flavored).

Dessert was a bit of a wrinkle. I had some brownie concoction with Tahitian vanilla (what qualifies as Tahitian vanilla). Drue had a mini dessert taster with a mini flan, a cake and rocky road. Too bad no one warned us about the alcohol. Brandy in the flan and I tasted rum in the mini cake. Drue was understandably irritated. But we switched desserts and I was happy.

The night was near perfect. Drue was a little antsy when I was contemplative (which was new) but I've always appreciated that he lets it ride and we hardly have trouble conversing. Overall, I'm happy -- it's so nice to date someone with such a zest for life, someone who appreciates the finer things in life and someone who is not easily pleased. And it's nice to fulfill the other parts of me, when I'm not being mom.

Other birthday notes: the folks at work surprised me yesterday. Margie made a homemade cake with Skittles (she knows my love for candy) with pink and white frosting. They even flagged down John (can never remember his last name) to sing his a Capella version of 'Happy Birthday.' John sang admirably; maybe he moonlights. It was one of the best birthdays ever. Now if I could just get the ex to settle down. ;)

PreThanksgiving -- the mental state

I don't know what it is, but there is something so soothing about cooking. Not necessarily in the preparation, when you are cutting and slicing and watching the clock. But the aftermath. When the smells of a good meal are wafting through the house, when folks have settled down to their after-dinner activities and you have the kitchen to yourself.

G surprised me and asked for a turkey. I didn't think he'd care. I had planned for us to hit a matinee, just the two of us. But he asked for the turkey and I obliged. I still have no sense of proportion and bought a 16-pounder. It's what I'm used to cooking. But it's laughable, considering my appetite. I went ahead and made the sides: stuffing, mashed potatoes (always a must). I did buy cranberries but skipped them when I considered that G probably wouldn't touch them.

Turkey was decent. My mom would have loved it. Dark brown, just like they show in the Williams Sonoma catalogs; nice, crispy skin. Stuffing was a little soggy -- I overdid the chicken broth. But the mashed potatoes were perfect -- nice and fluffy. And wouldn't you know it, G balked at the turkey. He said he thought it would be yucky. But he liked it in the end.

But now I'm staring at the clean-up required (the boyfriend called and interrupted my homemaker bliss) ;) and now I'm just thinking, couldn't I throw the pots and turkey roaster into the self cleaning oven and just call it a day? The self cleaning oven has also overtaken the good food smells, so now, the prevalent scent in my place is charred oven. Did I say cooking is fun? Did I?

Diarrhea duty

I'm not sure what it is, but I always seem to have the little one when he has a stomach bug. I swear, I've pulled diarrhea duty 3 times in the past year. This may be the worst case of it since G couldn't even hold it -- normally I have time to grab him a pull up before I have to worry about cleaning up the results. This time, it was on his undies, right after dinner, no warning except for G's declaration, "Mommy, I have poo poo." Gotta love it.

One surprise today: he asked to speak with Drue. He and Drue chatted about gum flavors. G tried explaining that he was chewing 'lemon' gum (watermelon, actually). Drue is now in an elite class. I don't recall G asking to speak with me or his dad on a casual basis. Only Raul, Jr. (his best friend) and now Drue. I'm a little envious, since I have to worry about the rules and nonesuch, but I'm happy to see them taking an interest in the other.

Back to the diarrhea duty, though. I guess my consolation is that it's better that it's happening with me (ugh). I'm the germ freak, so I make sure he gets a good soap down right after an episode. No guarantees that would happen with the ex. When I wanted kids, funny how I never envisioned the yucky parts. Guess I thought it would ALL be cute, of course.

One of those weeks

Countdown to my birthday ( a few weeks) and the following has occurred:

• Wallet stolen in LegoLand (while I oohed and ahhed over the DC replica - figures)
• Underwent extra security screening because of lost wallet (or the fact that I look Lebanese/Palestinian -- take your pick)
• Scraped a stranger's car while driving without license (thank God he worked for NG too)
• Ex threatening to drag me into court the Friday prior to my birthday (becuase that's what exs do)

Not exactly eager for the birthday; just looking forward to the holidays. But things that I'm grateful for:

• My kid
• Godkids (especially the ones I get to see)
• The good man who's here, even if he still believes CA is better
• The job
• The condo (all 1800 sq ft)