What It Means To Have A Child With A Girl Without A Father

Awhile ago I reblogged a post on what it means to date a girl without a father, and I think there needs to be a follow up article on what it means to have a child with a woman without a father. Just like its tricky to date one, its tricky to start a family with one.

Here’s what you need to know:

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No one is so rich as to throw away a friend

Daily Prompt: Why Can’t We Be Friends? – Do you find it easy to make new friends? Tell us how you’ve mastered the art of befriending a new person.

I have memories of, in my youthy youth, going to the swimming pool with my mother.  We walked in and put our things down on the plastic lounge chairs, and I said, “Okay, I’m going to go make some friends now.”  I jumped into the shallow end and did just that.

I was even cuter than this, I’m sure.

It wasn’t so easy during my adolescence, but I have a better time of it now.

I think part of that is because I know myself and my interests. I’m a social worker that cares about economics and policy. I love to travel and have done a lot of it. I’m a fangirl of such things as Sherlock, renaissance fairs and biking.  Part of it is also that other people who share similar interests or backgrounds are eager to be friends with others; it’s easy to connect with people over these things. Finally, I’m out of the house a lot – cigar bars and coffee houses, friends’ houses and on the hiking trail – I have ample opportunity to meet people.

Last Words to my Dying Grandma

My grandma’s dying. Not just in the sense that we’re all dying, but she’s ready to go now.  She’s signed her DNR papers. She’s getting a last communion tonight. All her daughters are with her right now. I had called my mom for details and was kind of regretting not being there to see grandma before she goes, and mom offered to let me talk to her. I felt a surge of sad gratefulness that I could talk to her again. But what would I say?

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Sensitivity training

daily prompt invited me to write about my weaknesses, or rather, the harshest but really accurate piece of feedback (criticism) I’ve ever gotten.  I started to comment on it a few days ago, but got sidetracked.

I found this prompt asking me to poke into corners of my memory better left undisturbed, the neat packages that you can barely see for the shadows around them. Because I rarely poke into them, I liked the challenge of looking into something new. So, though I’m a few days late to reply to this prompt, I still like the exercise.

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A bit at a time

I got to clean the kitchen this past Saturday – it made my whole weekend.  So cathartic and meditative, I love having things clean.

I think part of clutter has to do with all the *stuff* that we have, stuff that, while nice, isn’t a necessity.   Cohiba and I daydream about the day in the future when we build a little house on an old trailer bed, and travel around in it.  I wonder why we don’t do it now.

Because having things clean makes me feel so good, but I have a lot of other things that I do (bikes and PhD applications come to mind) I do a bit at a time.  Vacuum one weekend.  Do the kitchen like I did last weekend. I didn’t used to do it like this, and I like it.  A lot of the junk or stuff is Cohiba’s; we’re still learning how to manage this kind of thing with each other. That’s also coming along a bit at a time, but it is coming.

“Do you wanna hang out?” Ummm…

Whether or not I feel energized after spending time with a group of people depends on the group of people, the energy in the group, and whether they’re givers or takers.

There was a group of mostly women that I met and made art with once a month.  We all had art journals and passed them around, working in each other’s books. Most of us were social workers/lawyers/lobbyists/public health workers, and we talked a lot about ideas and social justice. We were around the same age, a few with children, most not, and differing faiths. Being with them was amazing

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