On this day four months ago I said good-bye to Mr. Man.

I didn’t look back.

And I never told you all why.

Some of you have told me I am obligated to write about this in detail. Others have speculated on what he may or may not have done.

One of you left a comment on my Mr. Man break up post last week that asks if I was running away from something or looking for an out…

Was I running?

Maybe.

I have never said that single moms come to trust men easily. Mr. Man and I had only been dating for six weeks when it happened. If a promise – to that magnitude – is broken so early on, and if you also happen to be a recovering bad boy addict and have a child, yes – you may “over react” or “run away.”

It happens.

A serious gut check coupled with a dash of fear can spell disaster for any man dating a single mom.

The commenter also suggested, as many of you have, that Mr. Man did something to harm Benjamin (either physically or emotionally). I want to make it very, very clear that he broke a promise to me, not to my son. He had not done anything to hurt Benjamin.

His foot was just cracking open the door. He wasn’t entirely “in” yet.

I made my decision to protect Benjamin from something that may or may not happen in the future. Something emotional, like losing his step-father not abuse.  I was speculating and coming to a conclusion based on a pattern of behavior.

Mr. Man is one of the few people on this Earth I would actually trust with my son’s life. And yes, he’s a great guy. But he is not my guy. The promise involved a decision he made that jeopardized his own future. He didn’t cheat on me. He didn’t even lie to me. He just made a bad choice, one I couldn’t live with.

That’s all I can say… for his privacy and mine. I hope that clears things up a bit. And again, you’ll have to trust me on this one.

—–

When I first saw Morgan Siler it was in the San Francisco airport.

I remember watching the stream of travelers pouring out of the terminal and thinking I’d spotted her. When I finally did there was no mistaking her. She has a presence, a light.

It’s truly amazing.

When we’re together I feel like it was just meant to be. Watch the video we made in San Francisco for evidence. (Thanks to Jim again for shooting that).

After Morgan moved to Kentucky, just three hours away from me, she and her son Lucca came for a visit. And everything came full circle. The boys were even better friends than we were. Identical in every way except for their hair color.

Here we all are… happy as can be.

One week from today Morgan and I will be on separate flights to Chicago where we’ll meet to pick up that new car I won. After my top secret agent and drivers training (I have to re-learn a stick), Morgan and I will be driving the car back together.

And we’ll have video cameras.

It could get a little crazy.

But guess what?

I’m more excited to see Morgan than my new Ford Fiesta. NO offense Ford but you have to meet Morgan.

You’d understand.

—–

We want to have a single mom meet up in Chicago on Friday the 24th. If any of you live there – where would be a good place to meet?

Related posts:

1. The End.
2. A letter to my future husband.
3. Fiesta Fever

Mr. Man is still sending them to me, in letters and in voicemails.

He misses me and wants to do whatever he can to get back into our lives. I do miss him but I just can’t. Besides he’s far, far away now – off on that rocket ship – so we have some time to think about things. Seriously, he’s gone. That challenge I had alluded to in earlier posts about Mr. Man is happening right now.

Meanwhile Benjamin has yet to request Mr. Man’s presence or ask about his whereabouts. He seems completely satisfied with the rocket ship story. He also knows, because I tell him, that Mr. Man misses him. I’ve also been reading him parts of the letters he writes devoted exclusively to Benjamin.

Like this one:

To My Little Buddy, Benjamin;

Seems this trip to the moon is going to be a long one. I’ve seen some nice stuff along the way so far. The main thing is that we are all getting along together on the ship. There has been no biting, hitting or kicking. We also have this little boy on our ship about your age. His name is Huck. (This is a private joke between Mr. Man and I – I detest the name Huck, he claims to love it.)

Huck is trying to poop on the potty almost every night now. When ever Huck feels like he needs to go he comes to one of the adults and asks them to take him to the bathroom so he can try again, which is great because Huck used to go to his room to be by himself.

You let me know how you’re doing and I’ll pass the word on to Huck and when Huck has some luck you’ll hear from me. Okay?

I miss you Ben, and I hope you’re not sick anymore. Do me a favor and give your mom a big hug and kiss for me.

Benjamin is potty training by the way.

In this past week of fighting the diabolical flu I found Benjamin on the toilet twice. He’d carefully positioned his potty seat along with his stool and then jumped up there all on his own to go #2. I just heard him shouting from the bathroom, “Mommy, I POOOO – PEEEEEEE – on the POTTEEEEEE! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”

So now we’re on a roll. I haven’t been pressuring him to learn but now he’s taking off diapers even if they have just a little bit of pee in them. Super expensive habit.

Any tips would be great.

And there’s your Mr. Man update. Despite his flaws he does truly love Benjamin. Nice to know I picked a good one in that respect. If Benjamin did ever ask for him or need to see him – he’d be there in a heart beat.

[Photo credit: The Chad]

Related posts:

1. A sweet little reunion.
2. Adventures in Potty Training

He made a promise.

And he broke it.

I had asked him to make me a promise at the beginning, one well within reason if you knew his entire story. I am not one to ask much of men when we’re together. I believe in personal freedoms and independence. But this was a promise that, when broken, risked our future together – literally.

“If you do it,” I said, “I’ll never see you again. That will be that.”

“Really?” He asked, “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. You’re not just dating me, you’re dating my son and nothing – nothing - is more important to me than him.”

“I won’t then. I would never risk anything that could keep us apart.”

I believed him. I really, truly did. Not for a second did I think he would risk it all. He was the one who seemed to be completely head over heels. That’s the one thing about this that has me shaking my head in utter confusion and realizing that Mr. Man has a problem… one I can’t fix.

When he told me the next morning – of the broken promise, the breach of trust, the throwing away of everything we had – my hands started shaking. I thought I would drop the phone. Not again. Not him. Not this one. But just like that, a man had broken my heart.

“I can’t believe you did that. Why?” I ask him, my voice cracking into a million pieces.

“I don’t know.”

Should there be room for error? Should I look past this issue of Mr. Man’s, this one thing?

Not when there is a little soul at stake… and yes, I should have figured that out before he met my son. But there are pieces to the puzzle, reasons for things that I just can’t share. So you’ll have to trust me.

I wish I could tell you more – I do – because you deserve to know every detail. But I just can’t.

I believe any one of you would have made the same decision. Having the strength to make the call – to listen to your gut – is the easy part. Living with the fact that yet another man has let you down is not as easy.

But now, just a few days later, I’m feeling fine. Really. And also a tad hopeful. There are a few reasons:

1. I kept my head on straight, I never really lost control and let my emotions override my sensibilities and responsibilities to my son.
2. I felt something – something incredible. I also trusted again. He broke that trust, yes… but that was not because of me, it was because of something stronger than me and even stronger than Mr. Man.
3. I am more worried about Mr. Man right now than my own hurt feelings. But I know he’ll figure this out. If losing me is the reason – well, then – so be it.
4. The reason (wish again that I could tell you) is as clear as day.
5. And the fact that I’m not a crying, sobbing, mess of a woman right now tells me I must be doing something right. Maybe I’m an adult now?  Not sure if that makes any sense at all but as a recovering bad boy or man addict that’s a huge feat.

As single moms, we don’t have the misfortune luxury of dating men who can’t quite keep their shit together – 100% of the time. Not when losing it (even for a moment) may risk your child’s heart or health.

And that’s that.

Case closed. The end. Good bye Mr. Man.

For the reason why Mr. Man and I broke up purchase a copy of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored: Dating Sex and Love – now only $8.95. Click here to get your copy.

If you missed the beginning of the Mr. Man story click here for my archives.

[Photo: Morgan Siler Photography; read her blog here]

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1. A kink in the plans…

“You may feel like something is missing,”

says my therapist in regards to my budding relationship with Mr. Man, who is – by far – the most caring, considerate and empathetic man I’ve ever been with, “This is probably because, in the past, you’ve only been with emotionally unavailable men.”

I hadn’t told her of my bad boy complex yet.

She figured that out based on some other issues I’m facing, like the loss of my father (unintentional abandonment) and my grieving mother (emotional abandonment). There are more details which, clearly, I’ll be keeping to myself.

“You may even be bored with him,” she went on.

At this point my head is shaking in agreement, stunned at her ability to read me like a book.

“I’m not all giddy, crazy, head in the clouds in love with him like I normally am with men. Instead we’re just slowly developing this deep friendship and I feel very calm.”

“That’s okay. It’s normal and very adult. You just need to re-learn some things, re-learn how you see things and feel things, that’s all. We can fix this kiddo!”

And by this she means my emotional unavailability, my inability to really trust in relationships or others.

——–

A few days earlier, Mr. Man and I were stretched out in my mother’s hot tub.

“I want to see a shooting star,” I say, “I haven’t seen one in years.” I relax my neck over the edge of the tub and focus on the galaxy of stars above us, so bright because we are deep in the dark forest surrounding my mother’s house.

Mr. Man starts singing softly. I’m straining to hear the words to the song but I can’t. The hot tub jets are humming in my ears. I take my eyes off of the stars and stare at him. He grows more beautiful every time we are together. The harder I fall for him – for his spirit, his strength and his ability to see the positive in everything – the more attractive he becomes.

“Oh! I just saw one! It was a quick one, but I saw one,” he shouts.

“Damn it!” I splash the water.

“No wonder you never see any,” he laughs, “You never take the time to look.”

——

All of us, as single moms, single women or recovering bad boy addicts need to take the time to look for the good ones.

Something had felt like it was missing with Mr. Man, but now – nearly two months in – the missing gaps are filling up with something solid, something I’m starting to believe in. I should add, nothing felt wrong at the beginning either. So if something feels very wrong about a man – get the hell away – but if something is “missing” ask yourself what it is?

For me it was the fact that he picked up the phone every single time I called. He didn’t blow me off or cancel plans. And he gave me genuine compliments and spoke of the future, often (and still does). The men in my past have always been emotionally unavailable or physically unavailable – giving me the cold shoulder, playing phone tag or leading me on only to drop me without a thought or care months or years later.

So what was I missing in Mr. Man? The bad boy.

“Fear,” says my therapist, “actually triggers arousal in our bodies. So when the men are mean to their women they immediately want to fix it, their bodies want to make it right.”

Yep, you heard that right.

Bad boys actually turn women on.

Hey, knowing what we’re up against is half the battle, right? I feel like I’ve had this massive, life changing epiphany, one I know I’ve been working toward on my own – I just feel so much better knowing there is a way to correct my mind and heart, corrupt from too many bad boys in the past.

As I find out more and go through my bad boy recovery, I’ll be reporting here.

So stay tuned…

• If you can’t get enough Mr. Man stories, click here for more.
• and read more about what I call my Bad Boy Complex, here.
  

P.S.

All is very, very well with Mr. Man. You would love him. Seriously. Every single one of my friends absolutely adores him, so I know all of you would too! He’s definitely a keeper. Big question now is – can I keep the keeper without sabotaging the relationship first?

No related posts.

“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.

“But you need that time for you two,” I sound hesitant, because I am – scared to death of suddenly having the tables turned, of meeting the child of my new flame.

“She’ll love you, it’ll be great. I know you’ll all love each other,” his persistence ends there and he lets me think about it.

———–

Two weeks later, Mr. Man is guiding me to Elizabeth’s driveway.

I can barely drive, my nerves getting the best of me. For the first time, I would be meeting a date’s child. What if she hates me for taking the scant time she has with her father away from her? What if we don’t click? What if she’s a little monster child?

So this is what it’s really like to date a single parent, I think. Not easy.

I let Mr. Man walk in first to break the ice and get some alone time with Elizabeth before Benjamin and I followed. When we did Elizabeth popped down the stairs and ran up to both of us, “Hello, Benjamin – can I show you my room?”

I liked her immediately, all of them – Elizabeth, her mother and her step-father. Major points for Mr. Man.

Later that afternoon, one train museum later and two toys later, all four of us sat at a Bob Evans booth. Elizabeth grabbed her father’s ear and whispered something. He smiled.

“What?” I asked.

“Hey Benjamin,” said Elizabeth, “You’re Mom is hot. Can you say that? Say – ‘My Mom is hot’.”

I am going to kill you – I mouth to Mr. Man.

“It was her idea.”

We’re all laughing hysterically, and suddenly I feel like a kid again.

“Do you want to have more kids?” I ask Mr. Man.

“Do you?” He asks me back with a big smile.

“I’m not sure.”

“C’mon, we could have a whole team!”

He’s such a father, through and through.

——–

Edited for Mr. Man’s privacy and because now I’m freaking out about how much I’m sharing on here. Sorry! I just really want to respect his privacy, he did not request the edit – I’m just making an executive decision.

“Good night,” he says one night on the phone, “And don’t have any of those weird dreams of yours, instead dream of me pickin’ you wildflowers in the summer.”

Okay, I think, now that I can definitely do.

And I did, I fell asleep with visions of Mr. Man coming over with fresh flowers in his hands. This summer we’ll be free of what is about to come – a challenge, to say the least.

To be continued…

If you can’t get enough Mr. Man stories, click here for more.

[Photo: Mr. Man holding Elizabeth and Benjamin at the Train museum]

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It’s happening…

My relationship phobia is kicking in.

Always hits at the same time – after about one month. I start freaking out imagining this terminal diagnosis of actually being with someone indefinitely. Mr. Man has been incredibly patient -no, he has been more than patient – he has been considerate and totally understanding of my sudden mood swings and deflection of his warmth.

He calls these my “blockers” and they “scare the shit” out of him. It seems they are beyond my control. My gut is screaming at me – yelling actually – “You aren’t ready. You can’t do this because you don’t know how. Being single is much, much easier and besides men are a pain in the ass (eventually it always turns sour).” Then I act like a bitch or go cold on him.

A few nights ago, deep in freak out mode and feeling so frustrated with myself, I vented a bit to Matt Logelin. Ever since our SMW radio show together we’ve been e-mailing here and there, nurturing our virtual friendship which I can only hope becomes one in the flesh some day.

As a friend, he’s just as insightful and inspirational as he is on his blog:

Matt: How are you?

Me: I’m fine. Just trying to get my head around the idea of actually being with someone – being in a relationship again. I’m just not sure if I can handle the idea of permanency. So very scary to me. But he’s not threatening my freedom at all, and I realize not all people in relationships are locked down, unless they allow themselves to be and I’ve never been treated this well in my life (except by my father).

Just having a weak moment. And realizing that I probably need therapy for my commitment phobia.

Matt: i don’t think you need therapy at all. when you do this shit by yourself for so long you eventually resign yourself to the fact that you don’t need anyone else. i know that’s how i feel now that i’ve proven to myself that i am a capable parent.

it’s gonna take a long time for that mindset to change, even though you’ve found someone so amazing.

just keep enjoying yourself with no pressure. your issues will work themselves out.

i’m sure of it.

He’s right. I too resigned myself to the fact that I would be alone indefinitely a long time ago. So the idea of someone else joining the picture has me a bit overwhelmed. I’m not a freak, or a commitment phobe, I’m just a single parent – taking my time and having trouble envisioning an actual significant other in my life.

And just as it took me some time to adapt to being alone, it will take me time to adapt to being in a relationship. I’m thinking at least 6 months to a year. There’s a blessing in disguise in Mr. Man and I’s future… we’ll actually be apart due to circumstances neither one of us can control for just over three months this winter. (I may explain later but have to keep it close for now).

The time apart will be the perfect test… for me. I am quite certain Mr. Man will pass with flying colors.

P.S.

Matt, who lost his wife Liz just 25 hours after their daughter Madeline was born has partnered with SingleMindedWomen.com to create a My Stuff Bag Foundation charity. The charity provides clothing, toys and necessary items for abused, neglected and abandoned children (newborns – 18 yrs.) throughout the United States.

Please click here for more information. It would mean the world to me and to Matt if you’d make it the charity of choice this holiday season. And you wouldn’t have to splurge, there are items as low as $5.99 in the registry.

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I threw on my gold, slinky dress, slipped on my knee high leather boots and then topped it off with a long black wig which I’d braided earlier. Part of a group Peter Pan costume, I was Tiger Lily.

“C’mon! Get yours on,” I shouted to Mr. Man as I started in on my make up. A Halloween street party was waiting and I couldn’t handle the excitement.

Earlier that day we’d taken Benjamin to a thrift store to hunt for Mr. Man’s costume. Normally any trip to a store results in a near melt down by myself and definitely at least one tantrum from Benjamin. But with Mr. Man there to help we were able to divide and conquer.

“You look in that aisle, I’ll look in this one,” I said.

Between distracting Benjamin with fun games or “find me this or find me that” and rows and rows of used clothes we finally found every single piece of Mr. Man’s Joker costume; a purple suit, a purple tie and a green shirt. It was a minor miracle and I didn’t even break a sweat.

Later that afternoon we took Benjamin trick or treating with Mia and Sydney.

“Look, Benjamin, look! There’s another house,” Mr. Man would say while guiding my little monkey down the sidewalk. Once Benjamin couldn’t peddle anymore Mr. Man popped him up onto his shoulders and grabbed his feet, playing with him and pulling on his legs – making him laugh continuously, for minutes and minutes on end.

He wasn’t just falling for me, I realized, he was falling for both of us. This is the stuff you just can’t fake – not that men in the past have faked loving Benjamin but Mr. Man, a father himself, absolutely loves being one.

Almost as soon as we got back to Mia’s house, she ushered us out, “Go! Go have fun, get out of here!”

“Yeah, Mommy,” chimed Benjamin, “Go away! Me sleeping at Sydney’s house, kay?”

“Alright, we’re going, we’re going,” I said.

It wasn’t until our quiet walk down the street to my place that it dawned on us – for the first time since we’d met – we were going to have a date. We’d spent the past two weekends at my mom’s house surrounded by family, friends or Benjamin; unable between them all to find more than an hour or two alone.

After Mr. Man had his purple suit on, he sat down across from me so I could transform him into the Joker. As I started dabbing on the white paint, he rested his hands on my knees, running his thumb delicately over my hose and along the edge of my dress.

Between focusing on the job at hand, I would look into his eyes only to find that they were looking intently into mine. He wasn’t telling me how to put it on, wasn’t concerned or worried about seeing his reflection in a mirror. In fact, I don’t think he cared what I was putting on his face only that he had a chance to see mine so closely while I was completely focused on something other than life, work or Benjamin.

“I love seeing your smile,” he said.

“Shhhh…don’t move your lips.”

“Okay, but can I have a kiss first before you paint them?”

——-

One hour later we slipped away from the costumed masses on the street into a bar. I found a spot at an empty table and immediately started to think about everything, letting my mind run wild in fear.

“Why so serious?” he said in his deep Joker voice.

“I’m thinking about you,” I said while staring into my beer bottle, “and I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be. I’m not going anywhere.” He paused, “I’m serious. I can see you and Benjamin in my future… as far as I can see actually.”

“Really? How? How do you know that?”

“It just feels so right to be with you. Look, I wasn’t expecting this either, wasn’t planning on it at all. I just know how I feel when I’m around you and I can’t see any reason why this can’t work.” And with that, covered in his Joker make up, now suddenly serious himself, Mr. Man convinced me to open my heart and my mind to the idea of a future with someone else in the picture.

“Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll give it everything I have. I can’t guarantee anything about where it will go, but I can guarantee you that I’ll try my very best.”

“This is just the beginning,” he said squeezing my hands, “and it’s only going to get better. I promise.”

And with that we headed into the night.

Maybe it was the way he guarded me from passing cars with his body, the way he held me when we danced or the way he asked about Benjamin when I looked at my phone – “How’s little Benjamin?” – I’m not quite sure what it was but I completely and absolutely let myself go, let myself drop a little further into that Rabbit Hole.

After hours of dancing, talking and dancing some more we hailed a cab for the ride home.

“What’s your name?” Mr. Man asked the cab driver.

“George.”

“George, is this not the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?”

George looked at me in his rear view mirror, this slightly embarrassed and slightly intoxicated Tiger Lily with no story other than the mask covering her face and said, “Yes, she’s definitely pretty.”

“Well,” said Mr. Man, “I’m going to marry this girl!”

I can’t remember what I said, or if I said anything at all. I think I just smiled, the kind of smile Mr. Man loves to see, the kind I can’t control. And rather than opening up that cab door and jumping into the pavement possessed by fear, I scooted in closer to him, letting him wrap his arm around my shoulders.

“I am going to marry you,” he whispered into my ear.

“Whatever! You’re out of your mind, crazy man.”

My words were no good here, he just laughed and pulled me closer, “God, I love those lips and I sure do love that smile.”

We laughed the rest of the way home and by the time we pulled into my driveway George was laughing too.

To be continued…

If you can’t get enough Mr. Man stories, click here for more.

[Photo: my Halloween self-portrait, trying to get into character]

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they fall hard.

My aunt told me this years ago.

The words didn’t make sense to me at the time. Every man I’d ever dated had been slow to fall or reluctant to fall. I just couldn’t imagine one actually falling as hard as she described, until now…

“I’m crazy about you. I just can’t stop thinking about you. Do you feel the same way at all?” He was laying it all out there. Putting his heart on a slab. So brave.

“No, not yet, not like that crazy. But, it takes longer for us – for single moms – for me. I can’t just let the rest of the world fall away. I have too many responsibilities. Finding time in the day to even think about you is hard.”

It had only been two weeks since we’d met.

“It takes time,” I said into his silence. “You’ve got a great shot though, you’re winning more points every day and I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Okay. Good. That’s all I need. But, God, I hope you feel the same way soon because now you’re starting to scare me.”

The ice, as you know, was melting.

One week earlier we’d spent another night together at my mom’s house. Curled up on the couch he wrapped his arms around my body, holding me tightly and stroking my hair away from my face while telling me stories and listening so intently to mine.

“Why don’t you shut up and kiss me?” I said.

He burst out laughing. “You’re so blunt. I love it!”

“I know, now kiss me already. What the hell?”

“I just love talking to you, I seriously can’t decide whether I want to kiss you or talk to you.”

“Well, I want a kiss.”

He kisses me so softly, so sweetly and then pulls me into his chest. Then holding me even tighter than before he breathes in deeply and exhales slowly with, “I never thought I could feel this way again.”

Rather than sending me into a panicked state of commitment phobia, his words just sink in. I think it’s the way he tells me about his feelings – with such conviction in his eyes and always in the right moment. And his actions speak volumes…

That afternoon he had taken me to see a musician friend of his. “You have to see this guy. He only plays for friends but he’s one of the best banjo players in the country.” He made the call, arranged for our visit and then took me to his hometown, deep in the hills.

After we were settled Mr. Man’s friend sat down, picked up his banjo and just started playing. His fingers moved so quickly my eyes couldn’t keep up with my ears. And the sound was something I’d never heard before. I’ve heard banjos, I’ve heard blue grass but nothing like this – so close, so clear.

Mr. Man, shouted out song requests and with each one looked over at me, “You have to hear this one.” As the music sucked me in and as I looked at Mr. Man only to find he was looking directly at me, I realized that this was a gift – something he wanted me to experience.

It’s not the only thing he’s given me. He’s given me a renewed hope in men… something I thought I’d completely lost.

——

Two weeks later, far from the woods, we were in the middle of the city preparing for a night out in a posh little neighborhood with a masquerade street party. We were about to have one of the best nights of our lives and I was about to start falling for Mr. Man.

To be continued…

If you can’t get enough Mr. Man stories, click here for more.

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Both of my men (Mr. Man & Benjamin) are on my mind.

For entirely different reasons, but they both have bugs. Mr. Man has the love bug, which I think I’ve caught as well. Definitely contagious in some cases. Benjamin has an ear bug, which I am entirely responsible for fixing.

In regards to that little love bug…

This summer I featured Larry Bilotta’s Male Maturity Scale. Usually reserved for married women trying to find out what makes their husband’s tick, Larry realized how useful this scale can be for dating single moms.

Last night, remembering this scale, I immediately dashed to my computer to measure up Mr. Man. And, he’s on the top of the list, the Mature Man. I am absolutely certain of this and I’ll write more later to explain why.

Get over to that post and check it out. I just didn’t want it to slip away into the blogosphere waste land because it’s really, really useful.

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And as for that ear bug…

I tapped into the same medicine I bought last spring and Benjamin already feels better. Being cold and flu season I wanted you all to read this one again – my post on the best way to battle an ear infection. This, by the way, is the first one he’s had since I tried this natural at-home treatment last spring.

Related posts:

1. Just when I thought I was safe…
2. And I thought dating was hard…
3. A profound thought and a new project.

It’s officially – official.

Mr. Man and I are an item.

But because even uttering the word relationship makes my arm hairs stand on end, not out of joy but out of fear – I’ve decided to do some research. After all, it’s been years since I’ve been in a “real relationship” so I need to brush up. And thanks to my little poll, Will You Ever Get Married Again? I know that 72% of you are open to the idea, so hopefully this will be the first of many, many more lessons of what it’s like to be a single mom in a relationship.

That’s what this blog is for – we all learn together, as we go, using my experiences as the corner stone for the conversations we spark.

So let’s get cracking:

First research source – Mr. Man. Unlike myself, he is built for relationships – naturally empathetic, understanding, patient, respectful and oh so romantic. And then there’s me – skeptical, a bit of a cynic and definitely jaded.

Second research source – relationship articles.

Oprah’s nice book people sent me a copy of O’s Big Book of Happiness: The Best of O, the Oprah Magazine. When it landed on my doorstep I immediately flipped to the “Couples” section. I know it’s still early, Mr. Man and I have only been seeing each other for about a month, but my “real relationship” legs haven’t been tested in years so I thought I’d brush up.

Here are a few tidbits from one of the articles I loved titled, “8 Entirely New Ideas About Love.”

It’s good to be picky, very picky.

In a study of speed daters, Paul W. Eastwick and Eli J. Finkel, PhD, of Northwestern University, found that participants who picked a large number of matches were less likely to be picked themselves. It turns out that singles who show interest in every partner they encounter may come off not as eager and open but as just plain desperate.

Take a man as an example, one who sits there and says “she’s hot” and “she’s hot” and “that one is too.” We all have friends like this and they’re always single, aren’t they?

Finkel’s advice, “What you want is to be easy for one person to get and hard for everyone else, which will increase the likelihood of that one person’s liking you.” For more advice on this, check out my post on how to forget about men (works like a charm).

It’s not the journey, it’s the preparation

The authors suggest throwing your relationship into situational challenges before you get married. For example, a long road trip with lots of details or unexpected side roads. Well, we’re single moms so I think we’ve got the market cornered on situational challenges. See? Another bright side, we only get the strongest and best men for the job from the beginning.

It takes a strong woman to be needy

This one really hit home for me. Here’s an excerpt, “our culture tells us that to be needy is to be weak, but it’s really a tremendous strength to know what you need and to be able to ask for it. Beginning a conversation with what you need, rather than the more aggressive, ‘You never…’ or ‘You idiot’ is a way to complain that’s easier for your partner to hear and act on.”

So instead of saying, “I’m sick to death of cooking you dinner, you lazy man person,” say “You know, I’m sick of my own cooking. I think we need to go out to dinner, or have you take charge of dinner for a while.”

Coming soon: a divorce vaccine

Many couples wait until it’s too late, until their relationship is already broken, to try couples therapy. So marriage researcher James V. Cordova has created a Marriage Checkup program. Couples answer a series of questions and then get feedback. Cordova compares it to an X-ray or a blood test. In the meantime he recommends couples ask themselves three questions every year:

• Does my partner feel safe being emotionally vulnerable with me?
• Does my partner feel accepted?
• Can I go to my partner for non-judgmental support?

Answering “no” to even one of these is a relationship red flag. And another cool piece of advice, avoid the most toxic relationship behavior of all – withdrawl. Cordova says, “It’s the equivalent of bingeing on Twinkies. Take – even confused, lost, sometimes frustrating talk – is always better.”

For the rest of the tips, pick up the book – it would actually make a sweet Christmas present for any woman.

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What are some of the most positive lessons you learned out of your past relationships? Leave a comment and pass them on…

Related Posts:

• Can He Commit? Check His Cab Light.
• A Letter to My Future Husband

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1. Single Mom Rules to Live By? Ideas?
2. Married people are weird (for the most part).
3. Why we kiss and how to kiss.