“We’d have some good lookin’ kids,” he says, “cute little dark haired Irish kids with blue eyes.”
Yes, we would. I’m sure of it and I can see their little faces smiling at me already. They’re definitely cute as hell.
I also have this vision of John Bear, by then fully trained in the ways of kitchen duty, juggling a baby and a spatula, flipping eggs and yelling at the dog - all at the same time.
A studly dad in the kitchen. These are the daydreams of a single mother.
“And if we do ever have kids you’ll probably have twins,” he lays this out like it’s a perk or something.
I used to have a journal with this word on the front.
Believe.
“Imagine”, I would write at the end of every entry. Inspired by John Lennon, I imagined everyone in the world - happy, at peace, at a standstill - just being.
So I would write the word every day hoping, some how, it would make it true.
I believed.
I once asked my father this question while we were standing amidst piles and piles of the family laundry.
“How do you love her still, so much, after all of these years? How do you know she is your soul mate?”
“I found her,” he told me, “because I always believed she existed. Even though my parents were divorced and even though I never saw it myself, I always knew she was out there.”
A few days ago, I spent hours sorting through my archives to produce a lovely table of contents to this blog. It’s funny to put your own life into categories, but I think you’ll enjoy them.
Like Chapter 11 - “The Ex Files: the Men I’ve Dated Along the Way.”
I know it’s early. Only six weeks in. But when someone says, “I’ve been waiting 30 years to meet you,” and then looks into your eyes and tells you how amazing you are and you look right back at him and feel the same way - one can’t help but wonder - could this be it? [click to continue…]
On Saturday morning John Bear (he now has a first name) and I headed up north to Cleveland for his cousin’s wedding. Between meeting his entire family and the ceremony we took a drive and made a few pit stops along the way.
The first to snap a shot of this
and the second to pick up a wedding card at this place, with a giant robot outside
and tons of memories inside.
Big Fun. Check the place out if you’re ever in Cleveland.
I could have spent the entire day in there, staring at those toys and remembering what it was like to be that young, that innocent. But when I look into his eyes I do feel completely young again, new almost. Like I’m starting over on a clean white sandy beach with not a soul in sight but his and Benjamin’s.
There’s a peace in finding this kind of a connection - a peace I may have lost hope of ever finding. But now it’s here and the only thing we can do is enjoy every moment.
After wishing we were 8 again, we headed to the reception pre-party at John Bear’s uncle Mark’s. [click to continue…]
He had a major hand in creating the Hocking Valley Scenic Railway, a thriving tourist destination for Athens County and his energy seems to be endless. He’ll never acknowledge his age with words or by his actions and I find this amazing and inspiring.
We’ve just wrapped up a meeting and now we’re saying our good byes in the doorway to the Athens County Visitors Bureau. The Bureau is my refuge and my savior. My home town, I feel, is cradling me - rocking me back to health and in turn I am enlightening thousands of tourists to pay us a visit.
Larry is lingering.
“So have you found a nice guy yet?” he asks.
Every time I meet a WWII vet like Larry I immediately conjure up images of men like Gregory Peck and Spencer Tracy on battle lines or at fancy dinner tables puffing on cigarettes, he is no exception.
“No, not yet. There aren’t any around or something, or maybe I just don’t know where to look or maybe I’m not ready,” my voice cracks a bit.
The tears have been coming easily lately.
It’s been nine months of single motherhood and I have yet to see a glimmer of hope, even though I’ve been dating not one man has shown promise of being something.
I want to hear words of wisdom from Larry, so I stop, look down at my shuffling feet and then I listen. [click to continue…]
We picked a pizza and wine shop for our networking dinner. Or was it a date?
I wasn’t sure. Our e-mails had been borderline flirtatious all week and there was definitely some initial chemistry when we met. Those eyes of his…
We had originally planned on having lunch after meeting at my presentation but I decided, having so much in common professionally, that we would need more than an hour.
“How about dinner and drinks instead?” I e-mailed him.
“Sure, when and where?”
“There’s a pizza and wine shop just down the street from my place. Sound good?”
“Perfect I live just around the corner.”
We were neighbors. Awesome.
I ran straight from work directly to my “maybe it’s a date.” [click to continue…]
The only bad thing about being in the dark with the bear is not being able to see them - ice blue, almost transparent and surrounded by his fuzzy face with a smile he saves only for me.
The two together - the smile with those eyes melt me and I slowly exhale and relax into his arms.
I could stay there… for hours, for days while I listen to his words.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know what a huge part of your life Benjamin is, you know that right?”
Potential, people.
The Bear has serious potential.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that (for now).
—-
My hands were shaking as I moved the microphone closer to the Congressman’s lips. Watching the audio levels carefully and listening to his words I jotted down my next question on my notepad.
If you’ve been reading my blog for a while you’ll know that Mommy Pie is by far one of my favorite single mom bloggers. And even though she wasn’t looking at all, and even though she lives out in the middle of no where, she’s found a man. [click to continue…]
Finally! My video of Morgan and Ronnie is finished.
We shot this on my trip to Kentucky with Mr. Man a few weeks ago… I think you’ll find their advice on being a dating single mom and finding love incredibly valuable. As you know, there are no easy answers. Some of the questions we address in the video:
What is it like for a man dating a single mom?
What should single moms look out for, or avoid, while dating?
And, why is it so important to take your time and choose wisely?
Just last week, Morgan announced on her blog that Ronnie is ring shopping and I think - as you’ll see here - that they are a match made in Heaven.
If you have anything to add - any other dating or love advice for single moms - leave a comment!
“I’m sorry I was so short with you on Sunday,” I told Mr. Man.
My fears got the best of me last weekend and I felt like a schmuck.
“It’s okay. You’re probably stressed. I still can’t believe how much you do - you never stop… ever. I mean, it’s just too much for one person to handle and working full-time on top of it… I don’t know how you single moms do it.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how we do it either, but we just do it - I think - because we don’t have any other choice. And we adapt.”
——
It’s odd because aside from Mr. Man, no one has really seen Benjamin and I in our element morning, noon and night. His first taste of our daily grind came through telephone conversations during the first few weeks.
“I can’t talk, I’ve gotta go again.”
“Okay, call me when you get a break,” he’d say or, “Okay, call me when he’s down.” Our first real phone conversation of the day still comes after Benjamin is asleep.
It wasn’t until a viral infection stole my will to live and my body’s ability to even get out of bed that Mr. Man spent several days in a row - here - in our little apartment. He came up to relieve my mother who had been here for five days. That Saturday morning I woke up to Benjamin’s happy morning bedroom chatter and then drifted back into sleep.
I didn’t wake up again until 11:00 a.m., the longest I’ve slept in since becoming a mother. When I did Mr. Man was lying next to me, watching me sleep.
“You look beautiful when you’re sleeping, you know.”
“Where’s Benjamin?” I muster.
“Upstairs, playing with his trains. He sure loves those trains.”
I tried to move and winced in pain. My body shuddering a bit from my chills.
“God, I hate seeing you like this. What can I do? What do you need?”
“Some tea, maybe, or a bath.”
He drew the bath water, made the tea and kept Benjamin occupied until I could move back into my bed. It’s no coincidence that Mr. Man knows how to be a husband and a father, it wouldn’t be his first time.
A 35-year-old single father, Mr. Man blames his own mistakes for the disintegration of his first marriage. A refreshing alternative to the single fathers I’ve dated who are constantly bashing their ex-wives, Mr. Man speaks very highly of his, “I screwed up. I didn’t appreciate what I had until it was gone.”
“I want you to meet her,” he said one night, “and I want you to meet Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth, his six-year-old daughter, lives over three hours away from Mr. Man so their time together is limited to every other weekend.
