Learning to Fly SOLO

I've been a single parent most of my adult life. I learned to be self sufficient, independent and ((gasp)) responsible. I brought home the bacon, fried it up in a pan and afterwards, when my daughter thought jumping on the bed was fun, cleaned the bacon vomit off the floor and cleaned bacon vomit out of her hair. My mother still sends me cards on Father's Day which I think is cute and sometimes depressing. Single parent I could handle. SOLO is hard.

After the emotional equivalent of clutching her bridal train down the aisle and into the get-away vehicle to go live with a BOY, I was left with the scary void that was my new companion. Me.

I felt like a child on their way to Kindergarten for the first time. Would I like me? Would I be nice to me? Would I hog all the ice cream? Absolutely. Now, before you guys call the men in white coats with the bouncy rubber wagon, just know that this is the first time I have TRULY been on my own. At every point in my life, someone has always been there with me. I'm not living with a parent, child, significant other or a pet of any kind. I was always the type of kid who played well by myself and didn't need a lot of interaction. Just knowing someone was in the other room was enough for me. I felt secure. This is weird. On second thought, have the white wagon guys on speed dial.

For some of you, this would sound like a dream! Wake up when you want, eat what you want, know that the milk would still be there at the end of the day (if that is how you left it). I too, was one of these dreamers when my child was young (and my then husband acted like a child).

The reality is that there's nobody to share things with. Sure, I can take a picture of my vulgar eggplant's produce and send it to people and get a "LOL" or a racy quip, I can watch a Netflix movie at the same time as my daughter and we can talk on the phone to each other while we're watching it, but it's not the same. Thank jeebus for technology.

Maybe God is challenging me to like myself first before bringing someone else into it.

Poop.

For some reason, I don't think giving myself a hug and saying a quick "I'm sorry self" will meet that criteria. This may take awhile.

Hey, wanna see some vulgar produce?