Sarah Jessica Parker – a single mom?

by mssinglemama on January 9, 2009

SINGLE MOMS AND DATING

Modern Single Momma and I take to the streets of San Francisco to interview men on what it’s like to date a single mom.
Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. He hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard and rush hour traffic to make the hour and a half drive down to my hometown and to Benjamin. His father had taken him to my mother’s house. I found him on the couch, still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of time. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave. Sooner rather than later would be best. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We will come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you ever summer. And how great would that be if he got to see Montreal and learn French?” I went on and on. Sounding too happy, I’m sure. But his father agreed. Then I gave him a little shove. The shove I’ve been debating for two years now. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment, I’ll just use your child support.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week or so I’ll see him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

It’s only a matter of time…

(Part 2 of my single mom fairy tale and my date last night will have to wait. You’ll understand why I hope, that I can’t think about anything else right now because tonight Benjamin’s father told me he is going to move away.)There is something I know with every inch of my body, in my gut, in my heart and in my mind. I know that one day my ex-husband will leave… he will disappear from Benjamin’s life. I’ve known it since the day I left him and the weeks that followed without a phone call checking on Benjamin or a visit. My heart broke into a million pieces over and over and over again when his father just wasn’t there – ever. And then he started showing up – for his two days each week with Benjamin – like clock work. But still, no phone calls during the week to check up on him, no visits outside of his 36 hours. Nothing. My ex-husband is from Canada. We got married so he could get his Green Card (I know I shouldn’t disclose this, but I don’t give a damn because the INS can kick him out of the country for all I care). But they won’t. We were in love. We had a child. It was legit.So the question hanging in my mind has always been, when is he going to bail? I know when the day comes it will be sudden. Maybe a phone call, “I’m coming by to see Benjamin today because I’m leaving tomorrow.” Something to that effect.Tonight when I got home from work his father told me, “I think I will be moving to Chicago.” Just like that. No conversation, no “I have something important to tell you.” Nope. Nothing surrounded the sentence, no mention of Benjamin or when he would see him. Chicago is six hours away from here. “Oh, really?” I ask calmly. “Why?””My company has a great job for me there, I’ll make twice as much as I make now.””What about Benjamin?”“Yeah. That sucks… but I won’t be able to make any money here. I will be stuck here for five years and never make more money.” Coat that sentence in his thick French accent, I corrected his English liberally. This by the way is complete and utter bull shit. We live in a big city, his father could easily move here and do just fine. He goes on to tell me he’s not sure when it will happen, six months from now or maybe less. He can’t be sure. Oh, and keep in mind, he’s said nothing of these plans to the SINGLE MOM he’s LIVING with or her six-year-old son. My mama bear instincts are raging in this moment, I am FURIOUS. My heart is breaking again – not for myself – but for Benjamin. For my sweet, adorable little boy who has a father who could care less about seeing him or being in his life. It will happen. He will disappear one day. I just want it too happen sooner rather than later. To happen now, when Benjamin is only two and a half, not when he’s three and completely understands. Even now it would be impossibly hard to explain. Benjamin still asks for his father every day. One morning he woke up and just started crying, “Daddy gone, mommy. Daddy gone.” Woke up crying. He says this phrase often – at least once a day.Yes. Daddy will be gone one day and I can’t wait. ENOUGH. I want him out of our lives. Maybe I should move to Alaska. He wouldn’t follow us there. Or Portland. Or Montana, I’ve always dreamt of living in Montana. This is where my mind is – how can I protect my son from his father? Aside from moving there’s nothing I can do. I can only sit here and wait… wondering when he’s going to vanish and wondering how I will wipe the pain away for Benjamin. If you aren’t too familiar with my ex-husband you might want to read this horrifying tale.Again, I’m sorry to leave you hanging about the date. Tomorrow…

We have a problem.

Or do we? 

Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Untilhadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

We have a problem.

Or do we? 

Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

We have a problem.

Or do we? 

Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.SINGLE MOMS AND DATINGModern Single Momma and I take to the streets of San Francisco to interview men on what it’s like to date a single mom.My addictions:Matt Logelin (the ultimate single dad)Better NowPioneer WomanMore Fabulous Single Mom Bloggers

  • Better Now
  • Bad Mummy, No Cookie
  • Bad Mutha Blogger (SHE ROCKS).
  • Baby Makes Two
  • Capital City Mama
  • Cathouse Teri
  • Celebrity Single Moms
  • Cost of Living (Pisces Hanna)
  • Chrissy and JD
  • Fraizer Baz
  • From the Gray Fortress
  • Fabulous Financials
  • Green Bean Mama
  • Harrassed Mom’s Ramblings
  • Irascible Crayons
  • J-Fo and Her Giant Peach
  • Kat Wilder
  • Mama Llama
  • Miss Chevious
  • Modern Single Momma
  • Momma Cum Laude
  • Mommy Pie!
  • Movin’ Down the Road
  • My Single Mom Life
  • A Single Mom’s Life (Morning Mom)
  • Morse Musings
  • My Single Mom Life
  • O Solo Mama
  • QT Mama
  • Sassafrass Jess
  • Savoured Life
  • Serah Rose (Single Mom with Tiny Tot)
  • Silver Lining
  • Single Mom Redefining Family
  • Single Mother Talk
  • Single Super Mama
  • Single Working Mommy
  • Solo Dot Mom (KitKat4Real)
  • Solo Mother
  • Spatula Handle
  • Sparkling Single Mama
  • The Queen Chimes In
  • The Quest for T
  • Tracy’s Brand New Day
  • Welcome to the Juggle
  • Wyliekat
  • Single Mom Resources:

    • iHeartSingleParents.com (THE single parent social network)
    • Single Rose
    • Single Minded Women
    • KidsLinked.com (for parents in Ohio and soon the rest of the nation)
    • Single Mom.com – SingleMom.com is a valuable internet resource that assists single moms with a wide variety of information, ranging from educational grants and scholarships, to help with temporary housing, food, medical and drug assistance, as well as a meeting place for sharing of personal experience and advice.

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    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and wearing Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. He hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard and rush hour traffic to make the hour and a half drive down to my hometown and to Benjamin. His father had taken him to my mother’s house. I found him on the couch, still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of time. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave. Sooner rather than later would be best. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We will come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you ever summer. And how great would that be if he got to see Montreal and learn French?” I went on and on. Sounding too happy, I’m sure. But his father agreed. Then I gave him a little shove. The shove I’ve been debating for two years now. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment, I’ll just use your child support.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week or so I’ll see him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    It’s only a matter of time…

    (Part 2 of my single mom fairy tale and my date last night will have to wait. You’ll understand why I hope, that I can’t think about anything else right now because tonight Benjamin’s father told me he is going to move away.)There is something I know with every inch of my body, in my gut, in my heart and in my mind. I know that one day my ex-husband will leave… he will disappear from Benjamin’s life. I’ve known it since the day I left him and the weeks that followed without a phone call checking on Benjamin or a visit. My heart broke into a million pieces over and over and over again when his father just wasn’t there – ever. And then he started showing up – for his two days each week with Benjamin – like clock work. But still, no phone calls during the week to check up on him, no visits outside of his 36 hours. Nothing. My ex-husband is from Canada. We got married so he could get his Green Card (I know I shouldn’t disclose this, but I don’t give a damn because the INS can kick him out of the country for all I care). But they won’t. We were in love. We had a child. It was legit.So the question hanging in my mind has always been, when is he going to bail? I know when the day comes it will be sudden. Maybe a phone call, “I’m coming by to see Benjamin today because I’m leaving tomorrow.” Something to that effect.Tonight when I got home from work his father told me, “I think I will be moving to Chicago.” Just like that. No conversation, no “I have something important to tell you.” Nope. Nothing surrounded the sentence, no mention of Benjamin or when he would see him. Chicago is six hours away from here. “Oh, really?” I ask calmly. “Why?””My company has a great job for me there, I’ll make twice as much as I make now.””What about Benjamin?”“Yeah. That sucks… but I won’t be able to make any money here. I will be stuck here for five years and never make more money.” Coat that sentence in his thick French accent, I corrected his English liberally. This by the way is complete and utter bull shit. We live in a big city, his father could easily move here and do just fine. He goes on to tell me he’s not sure when it will happen, six months from now or maybe less. He can’t be sure. Oh, and keep in mind, he’s said nothing of these plans to the SINGLE MOM he’s LIVING with or her six-year-old son. My mama bear instincts are raging in this moment, I am FURIOUS. My heart is breaking again – not for myself – but for Benjamin. For my sweet, adorable little boy who has a father who could care less about seeing him or being in his life. It will happen. He will disappear one day. I just want it too happen sooner rather than later. To happen now, when Benjamin is only two and a half, not when he’s three and completely understands. Even now it would be impossibly hard to explain. Benjamin still asks for his father every day. One morning he woke up and just started crying, “Daddy gone, mommy. Daddy gone.” Woke up crying. He says this phrase often – at least once a day.Yes. Daddy will be gone one day and I can’t wait. ENOUGH. I want him out of our lives. Maybe I should move to Alaska. He wouldn’t follow us there. Or Portland. Or Montana, I’ve always dreamt of living in Montana. This is where my mind is – how can I protect my son from his father? Aside from moving there’s nothing I can do. I can only sit here and wait… wondering when he’s going to vanish and wondering how I will wipe the pain away for Benjamin. If you aren’t too familiar with my ex-husband you might want to read this horrifying tale.Again, I’m sorry to leave you hanging about the date. Tomorrow…

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Untilhadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.SINGLE MOMS AND DATINGModern Single Momma and I take to the streets of San Francisco to interview men on what it’s like to date a single mom.My addictions:Matt Logelin (the ultimate single dad)Better NowPioneer WomanMore Fabulous Single Mom Bloggers

  • Better Now
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    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and wearing Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. He hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard and rush hour traffic to make the hour and a half drive down to my hometown and to Benjamin. His father had taken him to my mother’s house. I found him on the couch, still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of time. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave. Sooner rather than later would be best. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We will come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you ever summer. And how great would that be if he got to see Montreal and learn French?” I went on and on. Sounding too happy, I’m sure. But his father agreed. Then I gave him a little shove. The shove I’ve been debating for two years now. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment, I’ll just use your child support.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week or so I’ll see him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    It’s only a matter of time…

    (Part 2 of my single mom fairy tale and my date last night will have to wait. You’ll understand why I hope, that I can’t think about anything else right now because tonight Benjamin’s father told me he is going to move away.)There is something I know with every inch of my body, in my gut, in my heart and in my mind. I know that one day my ex-husband will leave… he will disappear from Benjamin’s life. I’ve known it since the day I left him and the weeks that followed without a phone call checking on Benjamin or a visit. My heart broke into a million pieces over and over and over again when his father just wasn’t there – ever. And then he started showing up – for his two days each week with Benjamin – like clock work. But still, no phone calls during the week to check up on him, no visits outside of his 36 hours. Nothing. My ex-husband is from Canada. We got married so he could get his Green Card (I know I shouldn’t disclose this, but I don’t give a damn because the INS can kick him out of the country for all I care). But they won’t. We were in love. We had a child. It was legit.So the question hanging in my mind has always been, when is he going to bail? I know when the day comes it will be sudden. Maybe a phone call, “I’m coming by to see Benjamin today because I’m leaving tomorrow.” Something to that effect.Tonight when I got home from work his father told me, “I think I will be moving to Chicago.” Just like that. No conversation, no “I have something important to tell you.” Nope. Nothing surrounded the sentence, no mention of Benjamin or when he would see him. Chicago is six hours away from here. “Oh, really?” I ask calmly. “Why?””My company has a great job for me there, I’ll make twice as much as I make now.””What about Benjamin?”“Yeah. That sucks… but I won’t be able to make any money here. I will be stuck here for five years and never make more money.” Coat that sentence in his thick French accent, I corrected his English liberally. This by the way is complete and utter bull shit. We live in a big city, his father could easily move here and do just fine. He goes on to tell me he’s not sure when it will happen, six months from now or maybe less. He can’t be sure. Oh, and keep in mind, he’s said nothing of these plans to the SINGLE MOM he’s LIVING with or her six-year-old son. My mama bear instincts are raging in this moment, I am FURIOUS. My heart is breaking again – not for myself – but for Benjamin. For my sweet, adorable little boy who has a father who could care less about seeing him or being in his life. It will happen. He will disappear one day. I just want it too happen sooner rather than later. To happen now, when Benjamin is only two and a half, not when he’s three and completely understands. Even now it would be impossibly hard to explain. Benjamin still asks for his father every day. One morning he woke up and just started crying, “Daddy gone, mommy. Daddy gone.” Woke up crying. He says this phrase often – at least once a day.Yes. Daddy will be gone one day and I can’t wait. ENOUGH. I want him out of our lives. Maybe I should move to Alaska. He wouldn’t follow us there. Or Portland. Or Montana, I’ve always dreamt of living in Montana. This is where my mind is – how can I protect my son from his father? Aside from moving there’s nothing I can do. I can only sit here and wait… wondering when he’s going to vanish and wondering how I will wipe the pain away for Benjamin. If you aren’t too familiar with my ex-husband you might want to read this horrifying tale.Again, I’m sorry to leave you hanging about the date. Tomorrow…

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Untilhadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.SINGLE MOMS AND DATINGModern Single Momma and I take to the streets of San Francisco to interview men on what it’s like to date a single mom.My addictions:Matt Logelin (the ultimate single dad)Better NowPioneer WomanMore Fabulous Single Mom Bloggers

  • Better Now
  • Bad Mummy, No Cookie
  • Bad Mutha Blogger (SHE ROCKS).
  • Baby Makes Two
  • Capital City Mama
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  • Irascible Crayons
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  • Kat Wilder
  • Mama Llama
  • Miss Chevious
  • Modern Single Momma
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  • Mommy Pie!
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  • My Single Mom Life
  • A Single Mom’s Life (Morning Mom)
  • Morse Musings
  • My Single Mom Life
  • O Solo Mama
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  • Sassafrass Jess
  • Savoured Life
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  • Single Mom Resources:

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    • Single Minded Women
    • KidsLinked.com (for parents in Ohio and soon the rest of the nation)
    • Single Mom.com – SingleMom.com is a valuable internet resource that assists single moms with a wide variety of information, ranging from educational grants and scholarships, to help with temporary housing, food, medical and drug assistance, as well as a meeting place for sharing of personal experience and advice.

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    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    I just got home from my trip to Chicago.

    The reason I went?

    To meet this guy

    And he is just as remarkable as I had imagined.That’s Matt freezing his ass off before we went to the top of the Hancock… and here’s me freezing my ass off , happy as can be just because I’m standing in front of a big happy tree.

    There’s also something about this city that is beyond magical.

    We only had one afternoon and evening to spend together but we also managed to meet up with this amazing single mom blogger (who I couldn’t snap a picture of because my camera’s battery died. URGH.)Side note: If you live in Chicago keep your eye out for January 13th’s edition of the Red Eye, they interviewed me for an article on being a dating single mom. I’ll need someone to scoop up a copy for me…I would write more but I’m going over to Mia’s house.We’re going to watch Sex and the City (a momentary band aid for any woman who’s suddenly found herself single) and we’ll probably down an entire bottle of wine. Your comments to Mia’s “Letter to the Other Woman” have helped her tremendously. The letter has also been making it’s way across the internet — being posted as far away as Manila (I apparently have readers there – astonishingly beautiful readers by the way). I would link to them but it’s a password protected site.Then tomorrow it’s off to pick up my little man… who is having the time of his life at Grandma’s – where today he spotted wild turkeys all on his own. How does a 2-year-old spot wild turkeys you ask? He sneaks off up the drive way – finds them hiding behind his uncle’s truck and then runs down the hill shouting in pure excitement to tell his Grandma. Amazing.Life is pretty fucking remarkable if you think about it, despite all of the pain it throws at us.Without the pain we would not be able to feel the joy. And if you hadn’t guessed by how excited I sound, this trip was just what I needed to snap myself out of my little New Year’s funk.And to all of you lurkers who came out of the closet I’ve read every one of your comments… just amazed out how remarkable each and every one of you are – and I’m so incredibly flattered that you’re here.To 2009 and to single parents… may this year bring us the strength to not just go on, but to make all of our dreams a reality.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and wearing Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. He hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard and rush hour traffic to make the hour and a half drive down to my hometown and to Benjamin. His father had taken him to my mother’s house. I found him on the couch, still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of time. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave. Sooner rather than later would be best. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We will come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you ever summer. And how great would that be if he got to see Montreal and learn French?” I went on and on. Sounding too happy, I’m sure. But his father agreed. Then I gave him a little shove. The shove I’ve been debating for two years now. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment, I’ll just use your child support.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week or so I’ll see him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    It’s only a matter of time…

    (Part 2 of my single mom fairy tale and my date last night will have to wait. You’ll understand why I hope, that I can’t think about anything else right now because tonight Benjamin’s father told me he is going to move away.)There is something I know with every inch of my body, in my gut, in my heart and in my mind. I know that one day my ex-husband will leave… he will disappear from Benjamin’s life. I’ve known it since the day I left him and the weeks that followed without a phone call checking on Benjamin or a visit. My heart broke into a million pieces over and over and over again when his father just wasn’t there – ever. And then he started showing up – for his two days each week with Benjamin – like clock work. But still, no phone calls during the week to check up on him, no visits outside of his 36 hours. Nothing. My ex-husband is from Canada. We got married so he could get his Green Card (I know I shouldn’t disclose this, but I don’t give a damn because the INS can kick him out of the country for all I care). But they won’t. We were in love. We had a child. It was legit.So the question hanging in my mind has always been, when is he going to bail? I know when the day comes it will be sudden. Maybe a phone call, “I’m coming by to see Benjamin today because I’m leaving tomorrow.” Something to that effect.Tonight when I got home from work his father told me, “I think I will be moving to Chicago.” Just like that. No conversation, no “I have something important to tell you.” Nope. Nothing surrounded the sentence, no mention of Benjamin or when he would see him. Chicago is six hours away from here. “Oh, really?” I ask calmly. “Why?””My company has a great job for me there, I’ll make twice as much as I make now.””What about Benjamin?”“Yeah. That sucks… but I won’t be able to make any money here. I will be stuck here for five years and never make more money.” Coat that sentence in his thick French accent, I corrected his English liberally. This by the way is complete and utter bull shit. We live in a big city, his father could easily move here and do just fine. He goes on to tell me he’s not sure when it will happen, six months from now or maybe less. He can’t be sure. Oh, and keep in mind, he’s said nothing of these plans to the SINGLE MOM he’s LIVING with or her six-year-old son. My mama bear instincts are raging in this moment, I am FURIOUS. My heart is breaking again – not for myself – but for Benjamin. For my sweet, adorable little boy who has a father who could care less about seeing him or being in his life. It will happen. He will disappear one day. I just want it too happen sooner rather than later. To happen now, when Benjamin is only two and a half, not when he’s three and completely understands. Even now it would be impossibly hard to explain. Benjamin still asks for his father every day. One morning he woke up and just started crying, “Daddy gone, mommy. Daddy gone.” Woke up crying. He says this phrase often – at least once a day.Yes. Daddy will be gone one day and I can’t wait. ENOUGH. I want him out of our lives. Maybe I should move to Alaska. He wouldn’t follow us there. Or Portland. Or Montana, I’ve always dreamt of living in Montana. This is where my mind is – how can I protect my son from his father? Aside from moving there’s nothing I can do. I can only sit here and wait… wondering when he’s going to vanish and wondering how I will wipe the pain away for Benjamin. If you aren’t too familiar with my ex-husband you might want to read this horrifying tale.Again, I’m sorry to leave you hanging about the date. Tomorrow…

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Untilhadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.SINGLE MOMS AND DATINGModern Single Momma and I take to the streets of San Francisco to interview men on what it’s like to date a single mom.My addictions:Matt Logelin (the ultimate single dad)Better NowPioneer WomanMore Fabulous Single Mom Bloggers

  • Better Now
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  • Single Mom Resources:

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    • KidsLinked.com (for parents in Ohio and soon the rest of the nation)
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    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    I just got home from my trip to Chicago.

    The reason I went?

    To meet this guy

    And he is just as remarkable as I had imagined.That’s Matt freezing his ass off before we went to the top of the Hancock… and here’s me freezing my ass off , happy as can be just because I’m standing in front of a big happy tree.

    There’s also something about this city that is beyond magical.

    We only had one afternoon and evening to spend together but we also managed to meet up with this amazing single mom blogger (who I couldn’t snap a picture of because my camera’s battery died. URGH.)Side note: If you live in Chicago keep your eye out for January 13th’s edition of the Red Eye, they interviewed me for an article on being a dating single mom. I’ll need someone to scoop up a copy for me…I would write more but I’m going over to Mia’s house.We’re going to watch Sex and the City (a momentary band aid for any woman who’s suddenly found herself single) and we’ll probably down an entire bottle of wine. Your comments to Mia’s “Letter to the Other Woman” have helped her tremendously. The letter has also been making it’s way across the internet — being posted as far away as Manila (I apparently have readers there – astonishingly beautiful readers by the way). I would link to them but it’s a password protected site.Then tomorrow it’s off to pick up my little man… who is having the time of his life at Grandma’s – where today he spotted wild turkeys all on his own. How does a 2-year-old spot wild turkeys you ask? He sneaks off up the drive way – finds them hiding behind his uncle’s truck and then runs down the hill shouting in pure excitement to tell his Grandma. Amazing.Life is pretty fucking remarkable if you think about it, despite all of the pain it throws at us.Without the pain we would not be able to feel the joy. And if you hadn’t guessed by how excited I sound, this trip was just what I needed to snap myself out of my little New Year’s funk.And to all of you lurkers who came out of the closet I’ve read every one of your comments… just amazed out how remarkable each and every one of you are – and I’m so incredibly flattered that you’re here.To 2009 and to single parents… may this year bring us the strength to not just go on, but to make all of our dreams a reality.

    Because it just has to be said.

    Last week I broke the news that my best friend Mia’s boyfriend and the father of her child is moving out. Catch up here if you missed it.Your responses were overwhelming and she read everyone of them. Your thoughts, encouragement and advice meant the world to her and your insights were invaluable – so Thank You from Mia and myself.Three days later she gave me this letter, “Can you publish this? Please – it’s therapeutic for me.”Editor’s Note: On the non-capitalizing of The Other Woman’s name – “It’s not a typo,” she told me, “I refuse to give her the respect of capitalizing her first name.” Just one day before she wrote the letter Mia found text messages in her ex’s phone to the extent of, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.” But the worst one for Mia to read, “So soon… so soon.” Here’s Mia’s letter to the “other” woman..To molly, The Other Woman,I remember meeting you last year with my entire family. I am sure you remember meeting me, along with my then 3 year old daughter Sydney. I made small talk with you about college and your plans for the future like one might do with someone younger, more naive about the world. You reminded me of myself at 23. That is how old I was when I met him. And at 24 I was pregnant. Unplanned and scared, I was making decisions that would affect the rest of my life and the life of the baby inside me. So, I know we are not faceless. I wonder if you have blocked us from your memory out of convenience. One of the things I loved about him was his eagerness to spend the rest of his life with me. He loved the idea of us having children young so that we could have time just the two of us again before we were “old”. I also loved how until recently, he was so affectionate. He always held my hand, or rubbed my back slightly while we walked together. He never let a fight go on more than 10 minutes, I used to get angry because he would want to cuddle and make up before I had even gotten started. I know what it is like to have him look at you the way he probably does. I know what it can make you feel like. But what you don’t understand is that in between all those looks I got was our life. Life was sometimes broke, tired, full of ultrasounds, high fevers, first days of school, new jobs and bad dinners. It was also laughing, loving, and signing around the house. But it was our life. Our family.He has made a terrible decision to give up on our lives together, the life that I know is worth the effort. I blame him for allowing his emotions to get the best of him. And what he may not understand yet is that life does not deliver you love wrapped up in a nice neat package. Love isn’t a state of being, it changes, and it is sometimes situational at best – but it is marked by commitment and choice. It is a decision that may have to be made again and again, even with the same person.I blame you as well, molly. I have always said that the other woman shouldn’t matter in situations like this – you are like a tool to get the job done, so to speak. But you see, now that I am living this, feeling this, and having to imagine life after this, you do matter. You have made a choice as well. Your choice was to put your feelings above the good of a family. You have chosen to disregard my life, and even worse – my 4 year old daughter’s. You have chosen a man that is capable of leaving his family without a fight, which I beleive is the most unfathomable of all of your choices. If I weren’t hurting so badly for my baby girl right now I would wish this same fate on you when/if you have a family of your own. But I can’t wish this hurt on anyone- not when I think about all the times my daughter will ask me if daddy is coming home and all the times I will have to say no. Unfortunately for you molly, it is not wishes that make these happen, I believe in karma and I think you should too. We may make choices for ourselves but the universe has a reason for everything, I am a firm believer in that.Since I have found out about you I have been a shell of myself. Crying and sick. the only other time in my life I have felt this way was was when I first learned I was pregnant. But out of that shell came the one true reason for my life. My Sydney. The reason I breathe. So I can hate you because you mean nothing to me, but I will be forced to keep loving him, at least in some way, because we have Sydney. We made her and without her my life would be incomplete. He and I have a bond that you could not understand. And while I will be reasonable, like I always am, about everything else that he and I have to work out concerning Sydney for the rest of our lives, the one thing I can and will control is you. We may not have been a concern of yours before but I guarantee we will become one. You may never see my child. You may not have a relationship with her of any kind, and you will never have the chance to know her and love her like her father and I do. this is the consequence of you choices. This may not mean anything to you now but believe me, without her- you only have half a man. And the worthy half stays with me. —UPDATE on Mia—Mia has good days and bad days, the good will hopefully be outnumbering the bad soon enough. Right now she’s making plans for her future – without him. It won’t be easy. She may have to move and she’s still finding the words and the right moment to tell their daughter.I just want to say one thing to every woman who has ever been cheated on, especially if you have children — a man who would do such a thing is not a man at all, he is a naive boy. And if he says you threw it all away first and drove him to cheat – he’s making excuses for his inability to communicate, to keep the relationship from crumbling. In short – he is a spineless coward and you are better off without him.—-I’m sorry things have been a bit morose or bitter on my blog over the past few weeks but reality it seems has taken over the holidays. I’m sick, so is Benjamin – still, and it’s Christmas Eve Eve – and all of this is raining down on Mia.I promise to have a nice chipper Christmas Eve post in the morning.And if you like letters you may also like:

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and wearing Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. He hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard and rush hour traffic to make the hour and a half drive down to my hometown and to Benjamin. His father had taken him to my mother’s house. I found him on the couch, still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of time. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave. Sooner rather than later would be best. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We will come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you ever summer. And how great would that be if he got to see Montreal and learn French?” I went on and on. Sounding too happy, I’m sure. But his father agreed. Then I gave him a little shove. The shove I’ve been debating for two years now. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment, I’ll just use your child support.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week or so I’ll see him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    It’s only a matter of time…

    (Part 2 of my single mom fairy tale and my date last night will have to wait. You’ll understand why I hope, that I can’t think about anything else right now because tonight Benjamin’s father told me he is going to move away.)There is something I know with every inch of my body, in my gut, in my heart and in my mind. I know that one day my ex-husband will leave… he will disappear from Benjamin’s life. I’ve known it since the day I left him and the weeks that followed without a phone call checking on Benjamin or a visit. My heart broke into a million pieces over and over and over again when his father just wasn’t there – ever. And then he started showing up – for his two days each week with Benjamin – like clock work. But still, no phone calls during the week to check up on him, no visits outside of his 36 hours. Nothing. My ex-husband is from Canada. We got married so he could get his Green Card (I know I shouldn’t disclose this, but I don’t give a damn because the INS can kick him out of the country for all I care). But they won’t. We were in love. We had a child. It was legit.So the question hanging in my mind has always been, when is he going to bail? I know when the day comes it will be sudden. Maybe a phone call, “I’m coming by to see Benjamin today because I’m leaving tomorrow.” Something to that effect.Tonight when I got home from work his father told me, “I think I will be moving to Chicago.” Just like that. No conversation, no “I have something important to tell you.” Nope. Nothing surrounded the sentence, no mention of Benjamin or when he would see him. Chicago is six hours away from here. “Oh, really?” I ask calmly. “Why?””My company has a great job for me there, I’ll make twice as much as I make now.””What about Benjamin?”“Yeah. That sucks… but I won’t be able to make any money here. I will be stuck here for five years and never make more money.” Coat that sentence in his thick French accent, I corrected his English liberally. This by the way is complete and utter bull shit. We live in a big city, his father could easily move here and do just fine. He goes on to tell me he’s not sure when it will happen, six months from now or maybe less. He can’t be sure. Oh, and keep in mind, he’s said nothing of these plans to the SINGLE MOM he’s LIVING with or her six-year-old son. My mama bear instincts are raging in this moment, I am FURIOUS. My heart is breaking again – not for myself – but for Benjamin. For my sweet, adorable little boy who has a father who could care less about seeing him or being in his life. It will happen. He will disappear one day. I just want it too happen sooner rather than later. To happen now, when Benjamin is only two and a half, not when he’s three and completely understands. Even now it would be impossibly hard to explain. Benjamin still asks for his father every day. One morning he woke up and just started crying, “Daddy gone, mommy. Daddy gone.” Woke up crying. He says this phrase often – at least once a day.Yes. Daddy will be gone one day and I can’t wait. ENOUGH. I want him out of our lives. Maybe I should move to Alaska. He wouldn’t follow us there. Or Portland. Or Montana, I’ve always dreamt of living in Montana. This is where my mind is – how can I protect my son from his father? Aside from moving there’s nothing I can do. I can only sit here and wait… wondering when he’s going to vanish and wondering how I will wipe the pain away for Benjamin. If you aren’t too familiar with my ex-husband you might want to read this horrifying tale.Again, I’m sorry to leave you hanging about the date. Tomorrow…

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Untilhadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an under-statement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.SINGLE MOMS AND DATINGModern Single Momma and I take to the streets of San Francisco to interview men on what it’s like to date a single mom.My addictions:Matt Logelin (the ultimate single dad)Better NowPioneer WomanMore Fabulous Single Mom Bloggers

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    We have a problem.

    Or do we? 

    Benjamin found my bra this morning and refused to take it off.In fact, I was late to work because of the mini tantrum that ensued when I told him he couldn’t wear it to school. The bra fascination will be a nice addition to his obsession for my high heels and for wearing his best friend Sydney’s tights. Now that he is becoming a little boy I’m more aware than ever that there is no man in this house. There are certainly things he’s missing out on… like being carried around on Daddy’s shoulders, trying on Daddy’s shoes or wearing Daddy’s watch. But that’s fine. Really. The alternative – actually having Daddy around – is far more frightening than his absence.Yesterday while on a conference call at work – the job that keeps a roof over Benjamin’s head, food in his belly, clothes on his back and will one day pay for his education… the job I can not lose – I got a voicemail from his father.”I’m not bringing him back,” his voice sounded odd, not threatening but completely heavy and off kilter.My pulse started racing at a million miles an hour, all while trying to listen to the incredibly important meeting on the phone. Then I get a text message. “My car died. I just have a mega break down. I miss my mommy. It’s been five years.” Again his car his dead – nothing new – but the vision of my son alone with his father in the midst of a mental break down had me in a complete panic.  My ex’s mother lives in Canada. His childhood was not a pleasant one – far from it, which explains why he is the way he is – emotionally unavailable and completely devoid of feelings, care or worry for others. It’s quite depressing actually. Until now, he hadn’t mentioned his mother in years. To say I was freaked out would be an understatement.I finished the conference call, sent a rushed e-mail to my co-workers and bolted out the door in the midst of a semi-blizzard to make the hour and a half drive to Benjamin. It happens at least once a month, leaving work after his father’s car dies or he bails on one thing or another.I told him calmly to take Benjamin to my mother’s house. When I got there, at record speed, I found him on the couch still asleep from his nap in Daddy’s car. ——- I’ve mentioned this before… I know one day Benjamin’s father will leave this country and go home to Montreal, it’s just a matter of when. I have debated the moral question of giving him a little shove – simply wanting to save Benjamin from the pain he’ll feel when his father does leave – thinking that sooner is better than later. But I’ve stopped myself – until now.Last night was too close, too weird, too scary. So this morning I called him. “Do you want to go back to Canada?””Yes,” he said calmly, “that’s what I’ve been thinking this week.””I just want you to know that you have my blessing to leave. I want you to be happy. And Benjamin will be happier if you are happier. We could come and visit, he could even spend a few weeks with you every summer. It would be better for him if you were happy.” I went on and on. Sounding too excited, I’m sure. The conversation I’d had in my daydreams was happening. And just as I had envisioned he agreed, without protest. Then I gave him a little shove. “I’ll give you money for a plane ticket and a down payment on an apartment.” Bingo. Silence. “We’ll talk later,” he said. Now I’m waiting.This could either get brushed under the rug or in a week I’ll find him on my front porch asking for a plane ticket or a bus fare. It could be over. Finally. The worry, the angst I feel when he has Benjamin. My gut has been screaming for so long and now I’m trying to listen… and you know what? It feels right. I know I am doing the right thing. And it’s true, my ex does not belong here – he should be home, in his culture, with his family and friends. He would be happier and so would we. This could be for the best.Let’s just hope he doesn’t completely forget the little English he’s learned if he did go back. That could be interesting.

    I just got home from my trip to Chicago.

    The reason I went?

    To meet this guy

    And he is just as remarkable as I had imagined.That’s Matt freezing his ass off before we went to the top of the Hancock… and here’s me freezing my ass off , happy as can be just because I’m standing in front of a big happy tree.

    There’s also something about this city that is beyond magical.

    We only had one afternoon and evening to spend together but we also managed to meet up with this amazing single mom blogger (who I couldn’t snap a picture of because my camera’s battery died. URGH.)Side note: If you live in Chicago keep your eye out for January 13th’s edition of the Red Eye, they interviewed me for an article on being a dating single mom. I’ll need someone to scoop up a copy for me…I would write more but I’m going over to Mia’s house.We’re going to watch Sex and the City (a momentary band aid for any woman who’s suddenly found herself single) and we’ll probably down an entire bottle of wine. Your comments to Mia’s “Letter to the Other Woman” have helped her tremendously. The letter has also been making it’s way across the internet — being posted as far away as Manila (I apparently have readers there – astonishingly beautiful readers by the way). I would link to them but it’s a password protected site.Then tomorrow it’s off to pick up my little man… who is having the time of his life at Grandma’s – where today he spotted wild turkeys all on his own. How does a 2-year-old spot wild turkeys you ask? He sneaks off up the drive way – finds them hiding behind his uncle’s truck and then runs down the hill shouting in pure excitement to tell his Grandma. Amazing.Life is pretty fucking remarkable if you think about it, despite all of the pain it throws at us.Without the pain we would not be able to feel the joy. And if you hadn’t guessed by how excited I sound, this trip was just what I needed to snap myself out of my little New Year’s funk.And to all of you lurkers who came out of the closet I’ve read every one of your comments… just amazed out how remarkable each and every one of you are – and I’m so incredibly flattered that you’re here.To 2009 and to single parents… may this year bring us the strength to not just go on, but to make all of our dreams a reality.

    Because it just has to be said.

    Last week I broke the news that my best friend Mia’s boyfriend and the father of her child is moving out. Catch up here if you missed it.Your responses were overwhelming and she read everyone of them. Your thoughts, encouragement and advice meant the world to her and your insights were invaluable – so Thank You from Mia and myself.Three days later she gave me this letter, “Can you publish this? Please – it’s therapeutic for me.”Editor’s Note: On the non-capitalizing of The Other Woman’s name – “It’s not a typo,” she told me, “I refuse to give her the respect of capitalizing her first name.” Just one day before she wrote the letter Mia found text messages in her ex’s phone to the extent of, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.” But the worst one for Mia to read, “So soon… so soon.” Here’s Mia’s letter to the “other” woman..To molly, The Other Woman,I remember meeting you last year with my entire family. I am sure you remember meeting me, along with my then 3 year old daughter Sydney. I made small talk with you about college and your plans for the future like one might do with someone younger, more naive about the world. You reminded me of myself at 23. That is how old I was when I met him. And at 24 I was pregnant. Unplanned and scared, I was making decisions that would affect the rest of my life and the life of the baby inside me. So, I know we are not faceless. I wonder if you have blocked us from your memory out of convenience. One of the things I loved about him was his eagerness to spend the rest of his life with me. He loved the idea of us having children young so that we could have time just the two of us again before we were “old”. I also loved how until recently, he was so affectionate. He always held my hand, or rubbed my back slightly while we walked together. He never let a fight go on more than 10 minutes, I used to get angry because he would want to cuddle and make up before I had even gotten started. I know what it is like to have him look at you the way he probably does. I know what it can make you feel like. But what you don’t understand is that in between all those looks I got was our life. Life was sometimes broke, tired, full of ultrasounds, high fevers, first days of school, new jobs and bad dinners. It was also laughing, loving, and signing around the house. But it was our life. Our family.He has made a terrible decision to give up on our lives together, the life that I know is worth the effort. I blame him for allowing his emotions to get the best of him. And what he may not understand yet is that life does not deliver you love wrapped up in a nice neat package. Love isn’t a state of being, it changes, and it is sometimes situational at best – but it is marked by commitment and choice. It is a decision that may have to be made again and again, even with the same person.I blame you as well, molly. I have always said that the other woman shouldn’t matter in situations like this – you are like a tool to get the job done, so to speak. But you see, now that I am living this, feeling this, and having to imagine life after this, you do matter. You have made a choice as well. Your choice was to put your feelings above the good of a family. You have chosen to disregard my life, and even worse – my 4 year old daughter’s. You have chosen a man that is capable of leaving his family without a fight, which I beleive is the most unfathomable of all of your choices. If I weren’t hurting so badly for my baby girl right now I would wish this same fate on you when/if you have a family of your own. But I can’t wish this hurt on anyone- not when I think about all the times my daughter will ask me if daddy is coming home and all the times I will have to say no. Unfortunately for you molly, it is not wishes that make these happen, I believe in karma and I think you should too. We may make choices for ourselves but the universe has a reason for everything, I am a firm believer in that.Since I have found out about you I have been a shell of myself. Crying and sick. the only other time in my life I have felt this way was was when I first learned I was pregnant. But out of that shell came the one true reason for my life. My Sydney. The reason I breathe. So I can hate you because you mean nothing to me, but I will be forced to keep loving him, at least in some way, because we have Sydney. We made her and without her my life would be incomplete. He and I have a bond that you could not understand. And while I will be reasonable, like I always am, about everything else that he and I have to work out concerning Sydney for the rest of our lives, the one thing I can and will control is you. We may not have been a concern of yours before but I guarantee we will become one. You may never see my child. You may not have a relationship with her of any kind, and you will never have the chance to know her and love her like her father and I do. this is the consequence of you choices. This may not mean anything to you now but believe me, without her- you only have half a man. And the worthy half stays with me. —UPDATE on Mia—Mia has good days and bad days, the good will hopefully be outnumbering the bad soon enough. Right now she’s making plans for her future – without him. It won’t be easy. She may have to move and she’s still finding the words and the right moment to tell their daughter.I just want to say one thing to every woman who has ever been cheated on, especially if you have children — a man who would do such a thing is not a man at all, he is a naive boy. And if he says you threw it all away first and drove him to cheat – he’s making excuses for his inability to communicate, to keep the relationship from crumbling. In short – he is a spineless coward and you are better off without him.—-I’m sorry things have been a bit morose or bitter on my blog over the past few weeks but reality it seems has taken over the holidays. I’m sick, so is Benjamin – still, and it’s Christmas Eve Eve – and all of this is raining down on Mia.I promise to have a nice chipper Christmas Eve post in the morning.And if you like letters you may also like:

    I had no idea this was even a possibility.

    That’s what I get for never reading pop culture rags. But according to a few of them…Sarah Jessica Parker is going to be a single mother.Wow. I am speechless.Is this true? Who knows. The report says Matt has been cheating on her and that she’s going to find her own apartment.But if it is I’m sure she will emerge as one of the strongest single mamas out there, perhaps even speak on our behalf. She is an issue driven celeb. I just can’t believe it and feel for her. Who is your favorite single mom celeb? Mine has been Kate Hudson but these two could be in a tie. If you haven’t already – don’t forget to enter my Fresh Start Contest. Sarah Jessica could even use these prizes (and there are seven of them) Click here and leave a comment to enter.

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    February 2, 2009 at 11:19 pm

    { 38 comments… read them below or add one }

    MommaMac January 9, 2009 at 10:00 am

    Michelle Williams, any parent that can get a child through the death of a parent while dealing with their own grief. Amazing.

    Reply

    Kelli January 9, 2009 at 10:11 am

    I really like Reese Witherspoon!

    Reply

    SingleParentDad January 9, 2009 at 10:47 am

    Britney Spears, for non parenting reasons, obviously.

    Reply

    Amy Sue Nathan January 9, 2009 at 11:02 am

    Aw, c’mon folks, these women have scads of help and oodles of moolah. That’s not a typical single mom…and in Hollywood it’s not atypical to be unattached to your baby-daddy.

    Rant over.

    That being said — I love the famous single moms like Sheryl Crow and Jody Foster who adopt children on their own because they simply want to be a mother. Although of course even in their world, there’s nothing simple about it!

    Reply

    Lisa D January 9, 2009 at 11:04 am

    I can’t say I am super surprised. For years I have heard rumors that her husband ‘bats for the other team’. Yes, I am a gossip-aholic.

    I feel for her, though. She’ll make an awesome single mom, though.

    I also like Reese Witherspoon!

    Reply

    O Solo Mama January 9, 2009 at 11:15 am

    J. K. Rowling and Madonna.

    Reply

    Andrea January 9, 2009 at 12:23 pm

    I don’t want to sound like I am undervaluing divorced single moms, but seriously, if you receive maintenance and/or share custody, how much of a single mom are you really?

    I am a single mom, I raised my son single handedly. I never received a penny of maintenance and I never had someone I could take him to for a weekend it was me and my son, always – that is how I define single parenting.

    Whilst a divorced mom is indeed undertaking most parenting alone, it is not as if the child/ren would be orphaned were she not there.

    And no, I am not talking about those who don’t get a penny from ex’s or whose ex’s dissappear, that is pretty much a single life too…

    Reply

    Dawn January 9, 2009 at 12:26 pm

    Obama’s mama

    Reply

    cyndi January 9, 2009 at 3:37 pm

    Another vote for Reese, but you can’t go wrong with any of them.

    Reply

    Carrie January 9, 2009 at 5:49 pm

    I agree with Amy Sue up there. It’s ridiculous to laud these Hollywood single moms for their incredible parenting when their lives are SO far from normal. Being a single mom would be vastly different with the amount of money and help that most of them have.

    I’d much rather champion the single moms of the real world — another vote for Obama’s mama.

    Reply

    Ms. Single Mama January 9, 2009 at 5:55 pm

    Carrie and Amy Sue –

    You’re absolutely right. They have tons of money, nannies, etc. But they still have hearts and being cheated on by your husband or going through a divorce sucks no matter what.

    But, yes, I think Obama’s mother is the clear winner. Here’s a post I wrote about her a while back:

    http://mssinglemama.com/2008/02/12/obamas-single-mother-the-story/

    Reply

    EB January 9, 2009 at 7:01 pm

    I am kind of embarrassed to admit it, but when I feel sad about my situation, I google pictures of Reese Witherspoon and I just feel so happy to see pics of her and her kids and also her new love. In every interview it’s all about her kids. Seriously, she is one classy lady and strong single mama.

    I can’t believe about SJP. Speechless.

    Reply

    ~Kris~ January 9, 2009 at 7:16 pm

    I’m glad sjp is kicking him to the curb!

    I too like Reese Witherspoon and Kate Hudson.

    Reply

    lilcyndiluwho January 9, 2009 at 8:55 pm

    While I admit there are a million and one single moms out there that have it far worse than I do, financial stability does not buy you any peace of mind when it comes to having to someday explain to your child why Daddy is an asshat, nor does it (at the I dont’ live in Hollywood level) make the day to day routine any less exhausting. Those of us with “involved” other parents have a whole differnt set of stresses to deal with that truly alone parents don’t. The grass isn’t lush and gree on this side just because a child support check arrives once a month or because your child spends time with the other parent. Sometimes the involvement of the other parent just makes things worse. Divorced moms (and dads) are very much single parents too.

    Reply

    Kelli January 9, 2009 at 11:09 pm

    Lilcyndiluwho-I was thinking the same exact thing but just couldn’t figure out a way to say it. I am on the other side-it’s always been just Ella and I…and when I started reading Ms Single Mama, I wasn’t sure how I felt about divorced Moms calling themselves Single Moms…but as I read more I realized that between the challenges of visitation and child support and everything that transpires between 2 parents that aren’t together, that you guys may in fact have it harder! I have come to the conclusion that it really doesn’t matter how one becomes a single Mom-we’re all in it together!

    Reply

    David February 4, 2015 at 3:48 am

    Recently i came across your own airctle and also have already been reading together. I wish to convey my appreciation of the writing ability as well as capability to help to make readers read from the beginning towards the end. I would like to study newer airctles and to share my personal thoughts with you.

    Reply

    Amanda January 9, 2009 at 11:44 pm

    I’m sorry I have to agree with Andrea and Amy Sue. These people have all the resources in the world, sure they are single moms, but their case is extraordinary.

    The strongest single moms are the ones that don’t get recognition. The ones who struggle through school or low paying jobs while doing all they can to make ends meet.

    Reply

    ~Kris~ January 10, 2009 at 7:43 am

    Amanda, I agree.

    I’m not single and I cannot imagine doing this job by myself. We have 3 children ranging from 1 to almost 13 and it’s a lot of work!

    my hat is off to all of you single mommas who do this every single day alone . . . and honestly, divorced moms do count in my book b/c every other weekend which equals 4 days per month that you get a break is essentially the same as doing it ALL by yourself!

    Reply

    Laura January 10, 2009 at 10:07 am

    Ditto with Andrea and Amy Sue…when you don’t have to search the couch cushions for lunch money it’s just not the same.

    Reply

    April January 10, 2009 at 10:30 am

    I got to go with Obama’s mama too.

    Reply

    LTP January 10, 2009 at 2:27 pm

    Totally Reese Witherspoon….but Jodi Foster, too. Jodi tends to keep more to herself (I sound like I know her, LOL) but I know she’s single…and really “with it” in my mind. Reese just seems awesome….I think Meg Ryan is a single mom, too….love her.

    BTW, Matthew Broderick has always seemed gay to me….how in the world could he cheat on her? She’s great!!!! Stupid guys…..

    Reply

    badmuthablogger January 10, 2009 at 4:12 pm

    I agree with all the single celeb mothers listed, and would add one of my own favourites: Courtney Love. I can’t even begin to imagine what she has struggled through as a single widowed mother, after husband Kurt Cobain killed himself.

    That woman has strength and character..

    Reply

    Dawn January 10, 2009 at 8:23 pm

    The long ago and not forgotten star single moms of the century must also include Lucy (I Love Lucy) and what about Cher and Tina Turner.

    Look at how icky their husbands were.

    What we all have in common: we leave losers too.

    Ohhh … I feel a moment of gratitude coming on.

    Reply

    yvonne January 10, 2009 at 9:20 pm

    I’m divorced with two kids. I receive alimony and child support and guess what, I consider myself to be a single mom.
    I was several months pregnant with my second child when I left my ex. I found out he was and had been unfaithful to me for years (escorts, massage parlors). But that wasn’t the last straw…no the last straw was when my three year old came to me and asked why his daddy did’nt love him or play with him. It was when he drew a picture of a small batman burning and punching a big batman trying to kill him. The therapist thought it was a breakthrough for my son, my ex thought it was funny.

    He only sees the kids a couple of hours on Sundays. He is always late. He takes them grocery shopping (for himself) and then drives till they fall asleep in his car. Then he brings them back home when they wake up. He has no role in their life other than financially supporting them. I am lucky, I know I am. But just how lucky am I?

    A couple of weeks ago I had strep throat, my son had the flu and my daughter was teething, and had an ear infection. She woke up in the middle of the night throwing up and was crying non stop. I was exhausted and crying non stop myself….I called him for help, I never ask for help but I was desperate(he lives 30 mnutes away) he said he had a sore throat.
    He did not come and proceeded to reprimand me for not hiring a nanny. I live in a city where I have no friends, no family, no help. He does not want me to move back to my home town because he does not want to be away from the kids…..the kids that he rarely sees and never checks up on. I choose to raise my kids on my own, so I do not and will not get a nanny.

    From a financial standpoint I am lucky, very lucky. But I am a single mom.

    BTW, my favorite is Reese W. She gives me hope.

    Reply

    Dawn January 10, 2009 at 11:35 pm

    Yes Yvonne … I was a single mom when I was married to ‘baby daddy’ — or as Ms Single Mama says, “The eyelash donor!” Our children need the attention of two parents … fathers like this are a haunting ghost image. It’s worse when an unavailable father is living in your house, it confuses the kids.

    A fathers role of financial support became a right in the seventies for women with children. Sadly, that’s all some men can give and see that as their only obligation to their own children’s lives … he’s a man without balls.

    Let him know that a Nanny doesn’t fill in for a father as a role model … and go find a male role model in your family that can fill in. So you’ll be an inch away on the map, not so convenient … and he’ll need more time for the travel. Might help him think more about meaning in his life. Poor reptile.

    Reply

    Andrea January 11, 2009 at 1:53 pm

    ooookaaaaay i have to VEHEMENTLY disagree with the other andrea. just because some single moms have it a little easier than you does not make them less single. the only thing that would make them less single is….being married. technically, i’m divorced and receive child support and have shared custody. the reality is, child support is VERY unreliable and there is little to no help available to me, my ex lies like a rug and nothing happens and i get child support whenever the legal system feels like sending it my way. its like christmas. and my ex chooses not to see his children, and he will go MONTHS (currently its been at least six months) but then one day he will change his mind and i will have to let them go, for one day, for eight hours, to a stranger’s house (his girlfriend) who will yell at them and take her own daughters’ side, and then they come home to me miserable and crying.

    i take great offense at some of these comments, implying that i am not “single” enough. is this for real? i feel like there is enough stress to be a good enough parent to married folk, and now i have to worry that i have no real right to call myself a single mom because i was married to my children’s father once upon a time? sheesh i gave it a shot, it didnt work out, the end result is hardly different.

    it shouldnt be a competition, “i work harder than you.” if you really have never had a weekend away from your kid, because you have no one to take the kid for said weekend, then i feel bad for you. really. i have wonderful wonderful parents who want me to be okay, to be happy, and they know that my life has gone in unexpected directions. so yeah they take my kids overnight once in awhile, sometimes two nights. i’m not going to apologize for that, or allow myself to think that ohh this single parenting thing isnt too hard because i get a little break once in awhile. this single parenting thing is extremely hard, and i deserve a break once in awhile. otherwise i’m not sure i would be reading this blog, unless mental hospitals have internet access available. i would be insane.

    if you’re not married you’re a single parent, as long as i’m concerned. it sucks sometimes for all of us. no reason to try and top each other.

    and reese witherspoon is my fave. she gives me hope!!! maybe all is not lost, and i will find my jake gyllenhaal one day….

    Reply

    movin' down the road January 11, 2009 at 6:21 pm

    He was cheating on her? Sheesh. On Sarah Jessica Parker? Well, we al survive don’t we?

    Reply

    Nikki January 11, 2009 at 9:52 pm

    Single (not married or widowed)

    Parent (has children)

    Every single one of us has a story. Our pains may look and feel differently than others. It doesn’t mean any are less of a single parent because of their circumstances or how they choose to express the agonies / joys of their story.

    We’re all in this together. :O) Equally.

    My favorite single parents are the ones that post & read here. All of ya!

    Reply

    apples January 12, 2009 at 12:11 am

    OK. Some of us have great angels for friends others have none. Some of us have family we can lean on, Others are the ones their family leans on. Some of us have some sort of co-parenting with the other parent, Others snicker at the thought of calling him/her a “parent”, Some of us have good finances be it because of child support, allimony, inheritance, great job or what not, Others are scraping to get by paycheck to paycheck. So what!?

    That is sort of off topic so back to single parents I look up to.I can only think of one My grandma whom I never met. As for famous people I really don’t even know who is a parent who isn’t let alone who is a single one lol.

    Reply

    Wyliekat January 12, 2009 at 9:42 am

    Gawd – another “good” man bites the dust.

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    mssinglemama January 12, 2009 at 9:59 am

    Wow. Loving the question of what defines a single parent and have been thinking and thinking on it.

    I have to agree with Andrea #2… if you are alone/ not in a serious serious relationship with someone than you are a single parent. But there are other thoughts I have on all of this… one thing though – there is no sense in one upping each other.

    Perhaps this should be an entire post?

    Reese is with Jake? I had no idea (of course) maybe I should catch up on my celeb gossip.

    Reply

    Dawn January 12, 2009 at 11:51 am

    Even in marriage … I was a single parent. Go figure.

    Reply

    mssinglemama January 12, 2009 at 11:56 am

    Yeah – I hear that… Here’s my post on “the married single mom.”
    http://mssinglemama.com/2008/11/16/the-married-single-mom/

    Reply

    Jessica January 12, 2009 at 1:35 pm

    Yes, I take offense at the thought that I have it any easier b/c the ex is around. It is because of him that I cannot live where I want to live I am thousands of miles away from family and old friends b/c he is in my life. I can do nothing without his idiotic input. I would gladly give him back his pathetic child support and his taking her every other weekend for the freedom to live in peace in a place where I am surrounded by those who love me. we all have it tough, single, divorced, whatever. No situation is worse than anyone else’s.

    Reply

    bobby January 12, 2009 at 2:19 pm

    I’m sure she will be fine as a singlemom. Singlemom’s are some of the strongest people I know (even if they don’t realize it) As to my fav celeb singlemom?

    why that’s easy, you singlemama! (yes, you’re a blogging celeb) ^_^

    Reply

    littlemansmom January 12, 2009 at 3:03 pm

    Bridget Moynahan…thinking about it, she’s handled her situation with class and dignity and clearly is out for the best interests of her son and not out for revenge…you have to respect that.

    Reply

    Bridgette January 12, 2009 at 4:34 pm

    x2 on Bridget. She went through it all alone and in front of the world, but with her head held high. She was the first person I Googled when I found out I was going to be a single mother.

    Reply

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