Tag Archives: parenting

17. What is your family like? Personalities, strengths, weaknesses, etc.


Ah, I’ll start with my blood, my actual family.

Family has been on my mind a lot lately. I am an only child, and growing up, I often felt very loved by my mom and dad.

And then, the summer I turned 16, my dad filed for divorce and left me and my mom.

My parents had been married for 19 years.

When my dad left, there was no court-ruled visitation. Since I could drive, I drove the 2 hours to see him on weekends when I wasn’t working. Within one year, my dad was married to a woman who was in it for money.

A year after that, my dad was divorced again.

The relationship between my dad and I has, for the most part, been good on the surface. But there have been underlying control issues that I’ve pushed under the rug for years.

And on Thanksgiving Day, that rug was peeled back when my dad blew up at me for not replying a text message within one hour.

Currently, my dad and I aren’t speaking. I’ve spent the weeks since Thanksgiving wondering what I did to make my dad hate me—his only child—so much that he can’t even see my face or speak to me.

But I don’t know if that’s something I’m meant to understand.

The relationship with my mom is good. We are closer than ever. But it has not come easy—we went our own year without speaking, and it was one of the most difficult times in my life.

There are times when I have to remind myself that your “family” doesn’t have to be relatives. And although my relatives do have strengths, I often consider my friends to be my family, because that’s really all I have.


I too come from a broken family. My parents divorced when I was 6.  To this day I still don’t know the whole story of why my parents  got divorced and I don’t care to because I think it would make me hate my Dad. 

My Dad and I weren’t close until he started dating his current wife (I was 19 or 20).  I hated his second wife, her son, and going to their house.  I thought my Dad had anger issues, and I think he did until he divorced her.  When I was little and in my teenage years my Dad made me do all the things he loved, like ride horses and play on go karts.  <— How terrible, right? I’m such a brat. Now I am super close with my Dad, I can talk to him [and my Stepmom] about anything.

My Mom and I have always been close in the sense that we hang out a lot.  But I have never been that open with her about my feelings because I always thought she wouldn’t understand, as I get older that is changing.  My Mom raised me as a single parent and brought me up in a “tough-love” kind of household where I usually got whatever I wanted.  Does that make sense? She’s a very strong woman and is honestly probably one of the best people I know.  She is the type of person that really would do anything for anyone.

I’m lucky enough to have 2 parents that help me and are very supportive of everything I do.  But like Lucky, my friends are my family too and those are the people that I feel know me the best.

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11.Describe what you think your life will be like in 5,10 & 20 years.


GAH. This is so scary to me.

Part of me feels like so much happens in a year, so it’s so difficult to predict, but then again, I’ve had my same job for close to 6 years (wow, that was hard to type) and I’m still single after 12 years of dating, so…

In five years, I’d say it’s still possibly likely that I’ll be at this job because I have very little motivation. Perhaps I’ll live in a different place, have different friends, maybe I’ll meet a guy (ha. ha. ha.), but I don’t see any DRASTIC changes…

Ten years? Shit. I hope I’m not still single. I hope I’m not still living in the same spot…and DAMN I hope I’m not doing the exact same job.

In Twenty years…I don’t even know. I hope I’m a little more stable all around. I hope my finances are in order and I hope I’m happy with whatever my life brings. That’s my wish always; that I can be happy and satisfied in my own skin, doing whatever it is I’m doing.


This is going to be a giant list of how I HOPE my life is in 5, 10, and 20 years. With a small bit of actual reality mixed in.

In 5 years I will be 33, which isn’t THAT scary of an age. But I will say that I know I will have more money because all my student loans will be paid off, and my car will be paid off (unless I wreck it and have to buy a new one, knock on wood).  So I am actually kind of looking forward to 5 years from now because it’ll be nice to have more disposable income. I would like to think that I’ll have found a nice well rounded guy that is hot and doesn’t look at or think about other women (ie Zac Efron. P.s. Zac, call me! ;)). I’m starting to job hunt now in a city across the country that I love and have have always wanted to live in. So hopefully I’ll have made that happen by then.  But I would really like to think I won’t still be doing accounting/finance stuff, and I’ll have found my true passion and be working toward new goals in that.

In 10 years I will be 38, which is scary because that’s almost 40. If I’m going to have kids I should have had them by this point, so I think my life will be busied by work during the day and taking care of kids and (hopefully) a husband in the evenings.

In 20 years I’ll be 48. That is fucking scary to think about. That means my Mom will be 71 and my Dad 73, and I don’t like the thought of them getting into their 70s and 80s because that’s when most people die. So I’m not going to think about it, I’m just going to say that since I’m the bomb.com, I will be retired and vacationing all over the World.  With my husband Zac Efron.

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Blanche update.

With all this other crap going on in my life, I realized I haven’t posted much about one of the FEW things that makes me incredibly happy—my kitty Blanche Devereaux.

While she is by far the craziest kitty I’ve ever had, I can easily say I thoroughly enjoy her company. She still has her claws, and she finds great joy in tearing up my curtains and my dining chairs.

She has also fallen in love with a trio of felt mice that have jingle bells on the ends of their tails.

But most of all, she loves drinking water straight from the faucet.

Enjoy the picture overload:


Blanche enjoying the TV…I took this on her first night at my house; I love the spots on her back.


Blanche enjoying “Game for Cats” on my iPad.

Blanche at the faucet.

Blanche at the faucet.

Tired kitty.

Tired kitty.

Tuckered out.

Tuckered out.

Hope you enjoyed a snippet of my sweet Blanche!

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Hi, Betsy!

Over the weekend, D informed me of some pretty cool news: Not only was E’s graduation coming up, but D said her mom wanted me to be there.

WOW! I am so in, right?

The kindergarten graduation ceremony begins at 9:30 Friday morning, so I took the day off work. After the ceremony me, E, D, and E’s mom (D’s ex wife, just to be clear) are going out to lunch to celebrate.

D said he was going to buy E a bouquet of flowers for the occasion. Flowers? Psshh.

I ventured to Target in search of the perfect gift; nothing too flashy, but something to show that I care, and that I’m cool, and that she should like me, dammit.

I really wanted to get a “Graduation Barbie”…which, turns out that even though Barbie is a mom and a doctor and a veterinarian and President, she didn’t graduate. So I was left wandering down the Barbie aisle.

Eventually, I came across the Barbie Pocket Learner:


Yeah, looks awesome, right?

According to the packaging, this little gadget has 24 interactive activities including logic, vocabulary, numbers, and more! You can even send Barbie “emails.”

I was pretty stoked that I found a cool-looking toy that was somewhat educational for a low price. So, I grabbed some wrapping paper and headed home.

Sunday morning, while making the obligatory call to mom, I was messing around with the pocket learner, planning on getting my number-game on, you know?

So I turn it on, and it’s Barbie’s pretty face, paired with some danceable tunes, and Barbie says to me, “HI BETSY!!!!”

Ohhhhh fuck.

My mom hears this and says, “But her name isn’t Betsy!”

I know this fact, and also know that if E turns on this toy and it says Betsy and not “E” I am doomed FOREVER.

So I search through the toy, looking to where I can customize it and make it say E and not Betsy. Who is this Betsy? Some lil whore whose mom was off looking at frozen pizzas while Betsy was left in the Barbie aisle customizing all of the pocket learners.

I had no luck, so I went to Google and looked up the instructions (the learner was still in its package, mind you) and still had no luck.

But the pieces started coming together—it was a toy for 3+, didn’t have any complex instructions, and chances are, it had no real customizable capabilities.

Then, it finally clicked. Barbie was saying, “HI BESTIE.”

Not Betsy. Le sigh.

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Met the daughter.

I met D’s daughter, E, Monday night.

Considering I just met his parents a week before that, 2 things are happening in my mind. 1. Yeah, things are certainly faster than I am used to. And 2., my nerves are shot.

I was nervous to meet his parents, but even more nervous to meet his daughter. I have about ZERO experience with kids.

Considering she doesn’t like The Biebs (absolute bullshit), I resorted to the only other thing I’ve got: bribery. And I went to Justice.

D gave me about 5 hours notice on this meeting, so I ran to the mall on my lunch break, walked into Justice, bee-lining it for a salesclerk.

“I am meeting my boyfriend’s 6 year old daughter tonight and I wanted to get her a little gift and I am clueless,” I screamed.

Once we determined that I didn’t want to buy clothes, I was directed toward the accessories and told which items were “super popular.”

In the end, I purchased a wristlet (pink and white polka dot covered in glitter, complete with a hot green E), purple cheetah shoelaces, and two rhinestoned pink and purple friendship bracelets. I wrapped it all in hot pink wrapping paper and brought it with me to the pizza place.

Upon arrival, E was super shy, which is out of character from what I’d been told. She didn’t want to look at me, and was asking D things to ask me.

“Why don’t you ask her, she’s right there,” he told her.

Eventually, she came around and we talked about her school and the tooth fairy (did you know when you look at the tooth fairy, she becomes invisible?).

“Lucky is a rabbit, E, she eats salads,” D told her when our food arrived.

E was shocked to learn that rabbits eat salads.

When she was finished with her meal, I handed over the gift. I am convinced it could have been a box of turds and she would have loved it if it had a Justice tag on it.

After dinner we walked around some, going to the bookstore. I had fun looking at Barbie books with her (we picked out the Barbies wearing the prettiest dresses). Finally, we went to see Oz.

Of course, our order at the concession stand made me laugh—E making sure she got the BLUE sour punch straws. When we got to the theatre, E insisted on sitting between us, which resulted in a 2-hour long popcorn fight between D and I, behind her back.

According to E, her daddy is “OBSESSED” with butter.

At the end of the night, D told me he was glad to see us get along. He seemed extra sweet, telling me he “just spent a great evening with the two most important ladies in his life.”

I enjoyed hanging out as a threesome so much, I asked D if him and E would like to come over this Monday night to make pizzas. They said yes.

Anyone know how to make pizza?

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I’m not mother material

Well I made it through the bubonic plague without murdering my loved ones and co-workers.  I really appreciate everyone’s concern last week.
Aside from leaving a snot trail everywhere I went, the weekend was still a big piece of dog shit – starting with Friday at work.
There are about 12 people that work in my “sub-department”, we’re all in a 500 square foot suite so whenever my boss has something important to tell us all, she yells “SHOUT OUT!” and we all come-a-runnin’. We had a shout out on Friday morning where my boss informs us all that this girl in our sub-department has put in her 2 weeks because she has taken a better job.  She has her masters in some kind of European studies thing and was able to snag a higher ranked job in that field, good for her, I’m all about not being underemployed. The thing of it is, when I was scouted out to come work for the branch of the company that I’m now in, they had originally wanted me for her position (which is a level up from my current position). At the last minute this girl showed an interest in it and they gave it to her, because although the higher ups admitted I was more qualified, she had been with the company longer, and that was more important to them than actually being able to do the job.  So for the past 3 months while they trained this chick on how to do the things that I learned in the big city, I did her work.  And now she quit.  So, you would think that I would get bumped up into this position because A. It was supposed to be mine in the first place and B. I’m already doing the work, right? Wrong. No one has said a damn word about it to me. Needless to say I’ve been fucking pissed about it all weekend. Like so pissed that I’ve been making empty threats to everyone I talked to over weekend that if they don’t give it to me I’m going to quit, I’m going to fucking quit goddamnit – Obama will take care of me, right? Tehehe.
Literally as I was finishing that last paragraph my boss came in my office and offered me the position. I’m keeping that last paragraph though, just so I can stick my big dumb foot in my mouth.
So anyway, I came home and rolled around in my bed coughing and sneezing all night Friday, and Saturday was the slumber partay. Betty, her daughter, my sister, and one of our other friends all came over for some good old fashioned girl time.  We made pizzas, prank called people, played board games, I got drunk on a giant bottle of wine, ate popcorn, and watched movies. It was a good time, until the next morning.  Betty decided to take a shower, so while she did that, I made everyone pancakes which is also known as the moment I realized I never want kids.
So I’m mixing and flipping and flopping the cakes all around being really proud of myself that not only could I keep myself alive it appeared as though I could keep other people alive too. Then the little trolls come up and started being massive brats. They’re telling on each other for the stupidest shit, and asking me to get them stuff literally every 20 seconds.  And by stuff, I mean they were asking me to get them wet wipes for the swiffer.  I know I shouldn’t be complaining because they were ultimately cleaning my floors, but it was too much. Like why are kids blind/retarded and can’t see that you’re obviously doing something else at the moment and CANNOT get them swiffer pads so they can play. Lets be logical, do you want to swiffer the damn floor or do you want chocolate chip pancakes? To me, the choice is clear. It was so bad that I almost started crying. Instead of crying, I talked to myself. I was telling whoever was listening that I get it, I get why being a parent sucks and is a full time job.  Because kids literally suck the life out of you. It was 10am and I was exhausted.  Later that day while I took a moment for myself, TO PEE, they were banging on the door saying they needed more to drink.  Um okay you little heathens, bring me your cup and I’ll get you a piping hot glass of piss.  Christ. Like really?!
So after everyone went home I cracked open a beer and hungout without pants for the rest of the night.  A small reward for making it through hell for a day.
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We’re getting married…to dudes!

That’s right, you read correctly, Me (Lucky) and my best pal Gizzy are finally getting hitched…and NOT to each other!

And so, like every other bride to be, there’s planning to be done, cakes to eat, parties to attend, registries to build, and of course, a wedding website to capture it all!  Wondering who the lucky gents are? Read and weep my friends…

Follow us on our newest journey: Lucky & Gizzy’s Fairytale Wedding

Happy Valentine’s/Single Awareness Day!

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The High School Crush Practice Date

As you’re all aware, I had a date on Wednesday night.  Normally I don’t do dates unless I really like the guy, why waste our time and his money if I know I’m not interested?  At this point, I’d like to ask all of you nay sayers to save it with the optimistic “How do you know you don’t like him until you go on a date and see?!” bullshit. I just know, okay? If I don’t get a tingle in my vajayjay upon our first meeting, then he’s in the friend zone….forever! But, since I have the almighty High School Crush date on Saturday, I figured I could use the practice making adult conversation, so I gladly accepted even though I already knew I wasn’t interested romantically.

All day Wednesday I bitched and moaned to Lucky about how I didn’t want to go.  I really wanted to sit in my jammies in bed that night and shop online for the perfect outfit to wear on the date with HSC Saturday.  Lucky kept telling me to suck it up and stop being a wiener, I had to go on this one to take the pressure off of Saturday, and it wouldn’t be that bad.  I wasn’t worried about the dinner itself, I was more worried about the goodbye at the end of the night.  Do I shake his hand? Give him a hug? A kiss on the cheek? If he buys me a bottle of Dom does that mean I’m obligated to give him a bj? This is more thinking than I like to do after I leave the office, clearly.  So I tried to get myself out of the end of the night awkwardness all together.

The guy was supposed to pick me up at 7pm and around 4 he texted me asking for my address.  So I did what I do best, I made up an excuse so we could just meet at the restaurant.  “Er, well, I’m going to have to stay late at work.  So, is it cool if I just meet you at the restaurant? I don’t think I’ll have time to make it home beforehand.”  Usually when I do this the guy will comply, but this time I was not so lucky.  He said we could just go later so that I could go home first and decompress from work.  Ugh! Fail.  I told him we could still go at 7 because I am so prepared that I brought of change of clothes to work, and he said I could just drive to his place and we could walk to the restaurant.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than him walking me to my door at the end of the night and coming in for the goodnight kiss and me barfing on his face.

When I started getting ready for the date I wanted to look good, but not too good, because I didn’t want to give him the wrong signals.  So, I wore the diamond ring that HOTTIE MCHOTTERSON got me last year for Christmas.  Yep, you read right.  I did that.  I also ate a clove of garlic.  I know, I’m horrible.  With any date, you hope there won’t be a lull in the conversation, because how awkward is that when it’s apparent that you’re both sitting there racking your brain trying to think of things to talk about?  I can say, that did not happen on this date.  This guy was FULL of conversation topics, such as but not limited to:

If I looked on your DVR right now what would I find?

What would you do if you won the lottery tomorrow?

What is the last meal you cooked?

If you were stranded on a desert island or mountain what do you think your high heels could double as?

Yeah, so asking these questions out of thin air was super lame, but they served their purpose and got the conversation going.  Even though each time he asked one of these questions it wasn’t because there was a gap in the conversation, it was because my mouth was full of food and I didn’t want to spit vodka cream sauce and noodles on his face, and he apparently took that as I was done talking about the previous topic.  Whatevs.  What I can tell you, is that this weekend I will NOT be asking HSC what’s on his DVR or what he thinks he could do with my high heels on a mountain.  Hrmph.

So, the guy paid for dinner, which was nice, but he kind of bashed me for not wanting to order a desert.  He said I was the only girl he had ever met that didn’t have a sweet tooth and he didn’t know how he felt about it.  “Well,” I told him, “The thing is, I DO have a sweet tooth, but I just had 3 glasses of sangria, a huge dish of pasta, half a loaf of bread, and half an appetizer.  So like, I’m probably going to go home and ralph all this up because I can’t breathe right now.”  He walked me to my car and said we would have to do this again sometime.  He didn’t even try to hug me or anything, so I took that as either A.) He was thinking about me ralphing B.) My subtle “I have a fake boyfriend” clues with the ring and the garlic clove worked or C.) He really did just want to catch up as friends and I’m a narcissistic freak.  Either way, it’s over and now I can focus on tomorrow.  Game on!

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Free at last

Guess what day it is.  It’s the return of Douche Day!!! You know what that means, something happened with the man himself, Douchearoo.  Seriously, after all of the awful things that the ex Snoop-Linus did to me, I think I still hate Douchearoo more.  Because he just tries to be an asshole.

I was driving to work this morning, minding my own business, when I noticed a child’s toy chillin’ on the back of a semi.  I thought it was funny, because it was one of those alphabet caterpillars.  So I got as close as I could, took a picture, and posted it on facebook saying, “Aw some little kid lost its toy!” Not 2 minutes after, Douchearoo comments “The kid is an it?” Yeah asshole, IT is.  I didn’t see if it was a little boy or a little girl who left his or her toy on the back of this semi, and you know what else? With all the recent baby drama I like to call kid’s it.  So step off, you don’t know me! 

If anyone else would have made that comment I would’ve laughed and been like, “HA HA, yep, it is an IT!” But I think any other person that would have been jackass enough to think about leaving a comment like that would have concluded beforehand why I called the kid it.  Just for funsies let’s run through the scenarios of other words I could’ve used and why I didn’t:

1. Aw some little kid lost his or her toy

-No. This is facebook, not effing English class, I’m not going to sound like a tool.

Aw some little kid lost their toy

-Then his comment would’ve been, “Since when do kids multiply” or something just as pretentious.

It’s like I told Lucky, if he wants to be silent facebook friends, I am totally fine with that, but don’t comment on my shit! He would do things like this when we were together and it really got under my skin.  He didn’t do it to me so much as he would to others. But, it honestly made me mad that I was dating someone who preyed on the weaknesses of others so he could feel better about himself and try and make himself look cool.

But really, correcting people’s spelling and grammar is all he’s ever had.  He’s ugly, balding, and fat, so his feeble mind is all that he has going for him.  That’s not even saying much, because I think he has trouble holding entry level jobs.  As for me, well I’m just coming into my prime and I work at one of the best companies in the world in my industry.  So you know all of that has to make him feel really good about dumping me a few years ago, I sure am glad he did.

As much as I wanted to reply to the comment and tell him that he sucks and I hate him, I didn’t.  I deleted the picture, and deleted him as a friend.  I’m almost 27 years old and can’t be getting into facebook battles anymore. I also have to think about what I’ve got going on this weekend, the hangout with High School Crush, a public fight with my ex over facebook for all to see could easily ruin that.  How unattractive and trashy is it when people get in public fights over facebook and twitter? Ugh! I’m taking a classy approach in 2012.

I am happy to report that I am now no longer facebook friends with any of my ex-boyfriends.  I’m free!!!!

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Q & A with Just Married Girl part III.

Welp! Here it is, the FINAL installment of our Q & A with Just Married Girl…

Do you have any dating rules to live by?
Yes. The first thing that comes to mind is that popular Maya Angelou quote “The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them.” Don’t waste time with someone who isn’t worth your while or who is mean or hurtful or deceptive. No matter how your heart is breaking, if a person shows him or herself to be too dangerous for your heart, cut and run and don’t look back. You deserve better. Next, don’t count someone out because they’re “too nice,” or “there’s no immediate spark.” You might feel differently after you get to know one another, or maybe s/he knows your husband/wife.

It is okay to say, “Hey, free dinner (or movie),” here and there and accept a date with someone about whom you might not feel crazy. I know that sounds shallow and dishonest, but as I mentioned above, you never know. Sometimes it’s nice not to be lonely, as long as the guy/girl
isn’t an abusive, lying cheat. Then, buy your own dinner.

Finally, it might be old fashioned, but I believe that all correspondence should not take place via text. At some point, you have to have one of those really long phone calls where you share random stories and stay up laughing until 1 or 2 am even though you have to get up early the next morning.

Tell us about your worst breakup and how you got over it. 
The worst break-up was my college boyfriend. I was so in love that I was just blind with it. Looking back, he probably cheated with me on numerous occasions, but I never knew about it and would rather not know about it. I had a crush on him for a very long time, and though he asked me for my phone number at a party one night, he never called me. I put it out of my head and forced myself to forget about him until we ran into each other on campus one day. He ended up calling me that night, and then he invited me on a date. But I didn’t know it was a date. I thought it was just coffee. I pulled my hand away when he tried to hold it because i was so shocked. A week later, he asked me to come to a party at his house, and when I arrived, he stayed by my
side the entire night. It was very sweet, but after several weeks of this, he still wasn’t willing to commit. We hung out nearly every day, but he didn’t want to be my boyfriend. When I met another guy at the bookstore we started talking on the phone, my soon-to-be college boyfriend was so jealous, he scrapped his reluctance and asked me to be his girlfriend. I was elated.

After about eight months of dating, he started to get freaked out about our relationship, but instead of talking to me about it like a normal person, he started a fight with me and refused to talk to me for a full twenty-four hours. I was a wreck. Then, he broke into my house and stole something very serious from me with plans to return it before I awoke. I happened to wake up and absentmindedly look in on this thing, and when I noticed it was gone, I called the police. It
wasn’t until they arrived and I began to look around that I realized who it was that broke into my house. I was devastated and embarrassed and went home to my parents for a couple of weeks. I ended up missing several classes, and I lost a lot of weight. Everything hurt: eating, breathing, thinking. I just cried all the time.

Finally, I got it together and went back to school. All of my teachers (except for my art professor) were understanding, and I was able to make up the work. My ex was seeing another girl already (!), so I just tried to keep going. The problem was that I was behind in photography and needed help. The only person I knew who had taken the class was my ex, and like an idiot, I called him and asked him for help as a friend. He agreed, and we walked all through West Chester, taking pictures and having a great time. That night, he showed up at my house with a ten page letter apologizing for everything and asking to get
back together. He broke up with the other girl and was eager to have me forgive him. Like an idiot who was still very infatuated, I eventually took him back, and we were inseparable until the next fall when he broke up with me again. I dated a great guy in the meanwhile, but my heart still ached, and by spring, we were together yet again.

In another year and a half, we broke up for good.

In between that time, he wasn’t a particularly great boyfriend. He was good at large romantic gestures, but he was an irresponsible human being and he was more interested in having fun with his friends and God knows who else than he was spending time with me. I don’t doubt that we loved one another, perhaps in different ways, but we were woefully incompatible. It took a long time, but after a lot of crying and a lot of denial, I started dating again, and this helped me to get over my sadness. We’ve kept in touch off and on over the years, but when he asked me if I wanted to get together before he moved in with
his now-wife, and when he left me a voicemail the week before his wedding in what I guess was a bout of cold feet, I knew I was so much better off without him.

What’s funny is that I have zero animosity towards him now or any feelings really, despite everything. He has a hyper-normal job in a bank and has a wife and a son, and I can’t help but think of him as an old friend or distant family member. If I ran into him on the street, I’d stop to say hello, but it wouldn’t be awkward or painful or anything. I wish him well, and that’s about it. Maybe it’s because I’m happy where I ended up in life, and I’m sure that Mike is the one for me, and I guess I’ve realized that my experience with my college boyfriend was nothing more than a bump on the way and that my real love story started with Mike.

Now that you’re married, and a mother, what do you think of your single friends?
I guess it would depend on how they feel about their relationship statuses. If I have a friend who is single and loving life, then I’m happy for her because she has an awesome time. In contrast, if I have a single friend who is depressed because she still hasn’t found someone,  then I would feel sad along with her and try to be there for her or commiserate with my own stories of woe. Mostly, I just feel excited for my single friends because there’s so much possibility ahead of them. It’s fun to live vicariously through them and to hear all about their dating lives.

Same goes for my guy friends.

Awww yeah! We hope you enjoyed it!
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