Blogging anxiety

I´ve only started to blog recently & one of my main reasons to start it was to avoid doing other things that needed to be done. I thought this would be nice diversion.Ha! Never have I been so wrong.

Even though I have written only one proper thing (just posted it) I think I am already suffering from blogging anxiety syndrome. You think you should write often (as obviously people are waiting with bated breath what is to come), and you have the ideas, but, nothing seems to be good, interesting, smart, funny or whatever enough to be actually posted. Then comes the late night calls to friends: listen to this, can I say this, what should I do, can I post it already and at the same time you realize the err of your ways: you never should have told anybody about the blog…

So, dear reader, despite all this, I hope to that you´ll find your way again to Mademoiselle Clouseau. Mademoiselle is waiting & promises to try to post more often.

Moving in together with somebody: too little, too soon?

Consensus amongst my single friends is that usually with men it is always too little, too late when it comes to matters of joining one´s lives together (am not talking about marriage, but simply moving in together). They want to play the field (or multiple fields) just a bit longer, or are just too comfortable with their lifestyle of microwave dinners for one & week long weekends. Of course there are those that are eager to do it before dessert is being carried to the table on the first date but they usually are extremely jealous & possessive of nature or otherwise damaged beyond repair.

A good friend of mine, let us call her D., who is a tad older than me (just to keep things in perspective) is besides being a hard working career woman also a hard working godmother. Really, never have I seen anybody take ones responsibilities as a godperson so seriously (sans the religious stuff). She actually remembers her godsons (from here forward known as O.) birthdays, sends him cards and gives well thought gifts. But not only that: she actually, quite voluntarily, spends time with him. She calls him, visits the family, there are the regular overnight stays. In short, D gives O a lot of attention and love.

For a long time O was the sole focus of all this love showered upon him. But then something happened that O had not foreseen: another child was made. Even though his parents love both their children equally, the amount of attention can not possibly remain the same when there are two (after all there are a limited number of hours in a day). This of course is very troubling for a young boy´s heart and mind. So when new challenges were ahead of O this fall (going to school, learning how to read, write and count), he decided that something needed to be done.

O approached D with the proposition that he should move in with her. His suggestion was not without foundation: they get along beautifully, they have common interests (at least that is how he has interpreted her enthusiasm for his enthusiasm for dinosaurs, reptiles, snot and bubble baths), there is love, there is friendship and the most important thing of all: she knows how to take care of him and she does a much better job at it than his parents (in his opinion at least).

How does one reject such an endearing proposition made in earnest? After all, he is only 7 and she is, well, almost 20 years plus a decade his senior. If he would have been in the same age range as D one could have resorted to some all-time classics like:

It is not you, it is me. (It is you, you are 7.)

I think we want different things in life. (Yes, I want to get laid and you want to… eat snot?)

We are in different places in our life. (You are learning how to read while I´m trying to get ahead at work.)

I don´t think that I am able to love you the way you need to be loved. (Sorry sweetheart, occasional weekends can be managed, but 24/7? No way, do you know how long does it take to recover from a weekend with you?)

You deserve someone worthy of your love. (As do we all.)

I don´t think that you really are ready to make that commitment. (Nor am I!)

I need to be alone for a while, figure out who I am, what I want, what I need. (And so do you buddy, so do you)

Some other time, some other place… maybe this could have worked out. (If we had been born in successive decades at least.)
If it´s not broken why fix it? (Somebody, fix me a drink, soon!)

So sometimes, it seems, the business of moving in with somebody might just be too little, too soon.