Adrian will be two in just a few weeks. It's hard to believe that it's been two whole years already. Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday that I was that frightened, mess of a woman about to embark on what seemed to be this hopeless, depressing journey of single mom-hood.

Sometimes still, if I'm not careful, it's easy to revert back to that woman — let my fears get the best of me. But for today, I must say, that I am no longer her. 

This journey has transformed me, made me stronger, made me realize that I have potential far beyond what I could have ever imagined. And for that, I am thankful.

However, some of the transformative effects are not so great. This journey has rendered me guarded, cautious, and at times very cynical. Most of the time I am certain that I could never trust a man with my heart ever again. Other times, I have the clarity to know that I want to.

I suppose it's all part of the process of healing — working through the hurt — and when it's done, when I'm fully healed, I'll know and hopefully drop some of the cynicism.

For now, I need it.

Levi's mother emailed to ask what we were doing for Adrian's birthday, and if she could see him again. I told her that I'm taking him to the Dora show in Manhattan, and invited her to come along.

I must admit that it hurts to see her again. Opens the floodgates and all of the memories: hopes, dreams, fantasies of my perfect life with my son and Levi — my perfect family — rush back in. The reality that things are not what they were intended to be can feel like a smack in the face.

But I am trying to have faith, trying to be optimistic that although my life certainly has not gone as planned, it is good. We have a good life, and a wonderful family structure even sans Levi.

I finally did it.  I met with Levi's mother yesterday.

Quick recap for those of you that don't know/don't remember: Levi's mother has never seen Adrian. In fact, Levi's mother is the woman that sent me an email just a few days after Adrian was born telling me that I should have given him up for adoption immediately and adding that my son was nothing I should be proud of.

Yeah, I met with her yesterday. It's been a long time coming.

We were to meet in the main lobby of the museum at 11:30. As I walked into the lobby amongst a huge crowd, I spotted her immediately and my heart started racing.

"What am I doing?" I thought. "Why am I putting myself through this?" I turned around, pulled out my cell phone and phoned my very best friend, Rachel, and told her what was going on — by this point I was practically hiding in the bathroom.

"You have nothing to be nervous about, Faith. Just get out there and get it over with, and remember, you are the one doing her a favor," she said. "If anyone should be nervous right now, it should be her."

So finally, I took a deep breath and marched over to her.

It was awkward and filled with that fake niceness that makes me sick to my stomach but I suppose there are worse things...

She told me that Erica, Levi's sister, was also coming but was running late. She told me that she already purchased the tickets so I should just go on in with Adrian and she would meet me in a few minutes. Then she handed me two tickets.

"Thank you," I said and handed a ticket back to her. "Adrian doesn't need a ticket," I told her.

"Why not?" She asked and added that every child aged 2-14 needs a ticket. "Adrians not two yet," I told her.

"He's not?" she asked, surprised.

"Nope," I told her. "He won't be two until December thirteenth."

There's a new billboard on the highway that I drive to work every day. It pictures two pairs of feet: one small pair standing on top of a big pair. The caption reads, "Have you been a dad today?"

This one, simple thing provokes an enormous amount of thoughts and emotions out of me.

I suppose the most obvious situation I think of is my situation, Adrian's situation.

Levi has not been a father today, he wasn't a father yesterday, and I've got a feeling he won't be being a father tomorrow.

This kind of thing, this totally 100% single parenting thing has felt at times, really lonely and incredibly isolating. I've cringed when people have asked about Adrian's father. I've spent countless hours trying to think of the perfect response to that question, yet, there really isn't one.

But today I'm sitting here thinking to myself that if they've got a billboard on the highway asking men if they've been a father today, well then, I must not be as alone as I feel.

I wonder if it's done any good.

I wonder if a man has driven by that and thought to himself, I should be more of a father.

I wonder how Levi would feel if he drove past it.

My guess is that he would be underwhelmed.

We haven't spoken in a while, Levi and I. It's been peaceful that way but also really sad. It's as if I've finally accepted that he won't be Adrian's father, no matter how hard I try.

I guess I'm glad I've accepted it, but there is something about that acceptance that feels really shitty. Really final.

I wonder if they have billboards like these in Los Angeles.

I have decided to take Adrian to meet Levi's mother. I actually had decided this a few weeks ago, but hadn't said anything to my friends about it just yet.

She has asked to see him a few times now, and it occurred to me that I would like to treat her in the way that I would like her to treat me. I can't really explain it, but it just feels like the right thing to do.

I was going to take Adrian to the Museum of Natural History (the butterfly exhibit open again!), so I asked her if she'd like to come along. We'll be meeting next weekend.

Last night I attended a group meditation/message circle in upstate New York. It was a lot of fun; they did tarot cards, meditation, and then the medium gave people messages.

Immediately the medium looked at me and told me that he had a message from one of my relatives in spirit. He asked, "Are you planning a trip to the city soon?" "Yes, I am," I replied.

"Yeah, this is going to be a huge step for you," he said, adding that the message from my relative was, "Don't worry, she knows her son is an ass and she will like your boy."

Wow. Had I known before that psychics could be this dead on I might not have spent so much money in therapy.

Today I got an email from the medium. He said he saw the Statue of Liberty — and that's what tipped him off that I was going to the city — but he thought that was an odd reference for New York. He said that he thought about it more and decided that the message meant that this meeting with Levi's mother will be very liberating for me.

Liberating? We'll see.
 

I finally realized today that one of my major problems is the fact that I absolutely cannot relax.

Okay, that may be an overstatement, but ask any of my friends and they will tell you that getting me to "chill out" is an enormous undertaking.

I spoke to my friend Rachel about it this weekend. "Yeah," she said. "But in some ways it's gotten better.  At least now you can actually sit through a whole movie."

Rachel and I have been friends since high school. High school, I think, was when my issues with anxiety started. (I've since realized that if you didn't have anxiety issues in high school you're abnormal.) Back then, not only could I not relax, I couldn't sit still either. I was constantly on the move.

Now that I'm an adult, it's kind of the same thing, except for the fact that there are times when I must sit still. Like, for instance, in meetings, doctors appointments, and all of the other grueling "grown up" stuff that we subject ourselves to.

Lately, I have been attributing my non-stop, go-go-go behavior to the fact that I am a single mother — I am quite busy. However, that idea became somewhat broken up when my therapist asked what a typical day was like for me. After explaining it to her, I realized that there are ways that I could make more time and slow down.

I told her that I get up for work at 7 AM, get in the shower, make Adrian breakfast, feed that cat, get us both dressed and out the door by 8AM. Then I drop Adrian at daycare, work at high speed from 9-5, pick Adrian up, drive home (sometimes stopping for groceries, diapers, etc.), start dinner, start cleaning up, eat dinner, and clean up some more.

Play with Adrian, do laundry or some other sort of cleaning.

We read books, I put Adrian to bed, I clean up some more and I start working on my freelance jobs. Then I clean up...AGAIN, and go to bed anywhere from 11:30 PM – 2 AM.

My son has become obsessed with chickens. Yeah, chickens. I can't really tell you why, but it's become a great laugh around our house.

I guess it started with the kitten. The cat that lives at Adrian's daycare had kittens; maybe Adrian misunderstood and instead heard "chickens" (although, he does now refer to them as kittens). In any case, he of course fell in love with this litter of kittens, and when they started giving them away, I felt compelled to take one.

We picked the runt of the litter; a pretty, tiny, grey and white girl. We brought her home and when I asked Adrian, "What's her name?" he replied, "Chicken."

The two of them have become instant best friends. Every morning when we leave, Adrian says, "Goodbye, Chicken Cat," and every evening when we return he says, "How ya doin, Chicken Cat?" and gives her a big hug.

It's adorable.

So, naturally when I asked Adrian what he wanted to be for Halloween he jumped at the chance to be a...you guessed it...chicken!

I found a fabulous chicken costume at the costume shop down the street from us, and I have barely been able to peel it off of him since.

Last night he was parading around the house in his chicken outfit, holding Chicken Cat, squawking, "bock, bock, bock, bock" in between giggles.  I laughed so hard that I almost cried. I am having so much fun with him.

It's hard to believe that two years ago, I was pregnant and freaking out. It's hard for me to believe that I was actually unsure if I was going to be able to do this on my own.

This feat of parenting a little boy all on my own, that seemed so insurmountable at that time, is exactly what is giving me the greatest joy I've ever known.

Now, I can't even imagine my life without him. He and Chicken Cat.

I've been dealing with a lot of crap with my father again, and in trying to deal, trying to figure out why I even bother, trying to figure out how to let go, I've learned a lot about why I choose the men that I do. I'm just learning a lot about myself.

I've written about my father before, and I guess I was to embarassed to even mention here — until now — what has been going on.

My father came back to New York about two months ago. He claimed that he wanted to get into rehab and get his life back together. He claimed he wanted to do this in New York, because that is where his family is.

Well, he did go to rehab, for about a week. Then he wound up in a homeless shelter. From there, he went to the hospital. Then I started getting phone calls, from him and from social workers assigned to his case. The details of the situation don't really matter that much, but I was asked if he could come and stay at my house for a night, and I reluctantly agreed.

As you might have guessed, a night turned into two, into three, into a week, and I suddenly felt as if I was the homeless one.

I couldn't stand to have my son around my father, and as a result, I was sleeping over at a friend's house every night, but one  The one night that I did stay at home, Adrian didn't.

My father was drinking, acting irrationally, probably doing drugs, and then he went and stole two hundred dollars from my purse. I knew I had to kick him out, but didn't know how to do it.

Finally, he acted so nuts one night that I just did it. I just said, "I can't have you around my son" and "I only agreed to help you because I thought you wanted to change, but it doesn't seem that you do."  This happened on Saturday; he asked if he could stay until Monday. I told him no. He asked if he could have money for a hotel room, saying that was "the least" that I could do for him. Again, I told him no.

Life is 10 percent what happens to you and 90 percent how you react to it.  —Lou Holtz

I read this quote the other day, and haven't been able to stop thinking about it. So impossibly easy. So terribly true. I wonder, how it is that this very same thought has never struck me a million times before?

It's easy for me to get lost in a bad moment, conjuring up worst case scenarios at the rate of one per second. My therapist says that when you grew up like I did (in a less than stable environment) that this is often the case. That we anticipate the shoe dropping as a method of protection. Like, if we prepare every second for it, it will be an easier blow to deal with.

But I seem to have suddenly realized that all of this fretting, all of this nervous energy, is at best wasted energy and at worst an accomplice to the "inevitable" disaster.

You see, it also seems that people like me may even subconsciously sabotage a good situation, as a means to end the worrying.

If you have nothing, you have nothing to lose.

I wonder now, how this thinking may have affected my relationship with Levi.

It was recommended that I read a book called How to Get the Love You Want.

I am told that the book suggests that as adults we will recreate a situation that was bad for us in childhood. Sort of like a, get-it-right-this-time kind of a deal.

My mom left when I was little — similarly to the way that Levi left Adrian. Sadly, no matter how hard I've tried, we don't really have much of a relationship today. My mother has another daughter 13 years younger than me, that she shares a bond with, that she provides for (and then some), that she never left. Exactly the way that Levi has a daughter that he provides for and cares about, and a son, my son, that he doesn't do either of those things for.

I have a court date scheduled with Levi for October 23rd. He still hasn't paid a dime of child support and I, sick of draining my bank account down to pennies every day, am sick of putting up with his bullshit.

I am exhausted. This whole ordeal is so freaking exhausting. I never realized how worn out your emotions can make you. Getting a divorce is like running a million marathons.

I tried everything. I tried to go it alone. I've tried to pay for everything by myself. I've tried having four or five jobs at one time  I've tried to reason with him. I've tried to negotiate with him — always reiterating, "I'm not asking for a whole lot, I'm not asking to get rich, I just need some help." 

Every single time I've tried, I've either been met with lies, empty promises, or absolute hostility.

It's weird though, I'm not even angry anymore. I'm just...tired. I want peace in my life. I want happiness. I want my son to have a peaceful, happy, wonderful life. I need to be able to provide that for him.

I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong. Why is it so impossible for me to communicate this effectively to Levi — effectively enough so that he'll listen? Effectively enough so that he'll step up and do SOMETHING.

This doesn't feel right, either. It doesn't feel right to drag the man — a man that I once loved so much — into court and call him a deadbeat.

I realize now why I've been avoiding this moment for so long — filing papers, and then retracting them — it's painful. This hurts. This back and forth bickering. This sitting back and watching Levi not only abandon but totally neglect our son. This really hurts. I only wish there was another way. 

I met my ex's sister, Erica, for the second time today. We had originally planned to meet yesterday and have a picnic in the park, but that didn't work out.

So, as I had already decided to take Adrian fall shopping today (it's getting cold quick, and I just realized he doesn't have any pants that fit him!), she asked if she could come along and perhaps buy him some clothes.

I agreed, but warned her that shopping on a weekend, in Manhattan, with a two year old can make someone nuts — but she still wanted to come.

The last time we met, we barely talked about Levi and I was hoping not to talk too much about him today. On the way to meet her, I reminded myself, several times, to keep my snide comments to myself. I'm really good at making them, but I know it's not her fault her brother is an asshole, so I try to keep it in check.

Well, about halfway into shopping she announces to me that she is adopting a baby. I was pretty surprised by this as the last time we talked she told me that she would never consider adoption.

She went on to tell me that the process was going to take awhile, because she wants a newborn and some other specific requirements.

Before I even had a second to think the words "Or, you could just wait until your brother has another one he doesn't want" popped out of my mouth and right at her.

She didn't say anything...right away. About five minutes later she said, "You know, I told Levi that he should get a vasectomy." I nodded and said, "He should want to." Then she said, "Yeah, I told him that he should freeze some sperm before he gets it, in case he wants to have another baby."

That's when I said, "Or he can just take care of the children that he has."