Introducing Him to the Kids

I know it’s been a while since I’ve offered up a around of single mom dating tips, but here is a fresh batch. The subject? Introducing or not introducing men to your children.

First, a few real-life single mom dating experiences. In both cases, each single mom did what she felt was right at the time. We can’t hold them responsible or judge them for their actions. We are all learning as we go… dating as a single mom is by far the hardest and most misunderstood experience mothers can have. But we can learn from each other.

Single Mom Dating Scenario 1

She bides her time, listens to her ultra-protectionist mama gut and waits 9 months to introduce the man she’s dating to her toddler. She introduces him only after she’s certain they’ll be together forever and have fallen completely and totally in love. Did her patience pay off?

At first, yes. Everything is going so well that they all move in together three months after the introductions. Four weeks later her boyfriend, likely caving under the stress of what I’ll call Sudden Toddler Exposure, jets. He leaves. Completely and totally leaves and she hasn’t heard from him since.

Single Mom Dating Scenario 2

She doesn’t wait. Knowing instantly that he is the one. She brings the man into their lives, introduces him to her 6-year-old and then – because he lives out of town – allows him to practically (but not really) move in.

Things are going very well, they’re both living in the La La Land of Love and then – boom – something doesn’t feel right. They are fighting constantly (the child is seeing the fights) and it all ends a few weeks later in a nasty break-up.

To avoid the above Single Mom Dating Scenarios…

1. If you are seriously interested in a man it is completely fine to introduce him to the kids.

Guess what? Your kids are – like 50% of their friends – from a two parent household, or a one parent household. But still, this is a new day and age. Being tied up or hung up on putting your kid in a therapy chair could cause them more harm than good.

And besides, do you really know a man if you can’t gauge his behavior and interaction with your children. This is something us moms can read in just a few hours at the park or ice cream parlor. No need for moving him in or inviting him over for dinner every night. Just slowly introduce them. One outing a week to ease them in and then slowly increase exposure.

BUT.

Do not move too fast. At all. Take your time.

John and I have been dating for 10 months but even when he does come over – it’s just before Benjamin’s bed time and when Benjamin wakes up in the morning – he’s gone, having woken up between 5:00am – 6:00am to get out of the house. This is something John does on his own. He never complains or whines. He just does it. I can tell you, it’s very helpful to be with a man who puts Benjamin first – always. Helps to keep me in line as well, because I’m definitely not as strong as I seem.

2. Ease him into father-like responsibilities.

I learned this the hard way with Kris. But, to my advantage, now remember that lesson every day with John. If you are dating a single dad I’m sure it’s a different story, but with a childless guy you have to keep your boundaries. Even 10 months in. John is incredibly helpful but he has yet to experience the real routine of my single mom life, every day, all day, over and over again from breakfast to dinner.

Why? Why not expose him to that? Because 1) it’s not his responsibility 2) we need this time to grow our relationship and build a foundation 3) it’s too much pressure to throw someone immediately into fatherhood, remember we had nine months to get used to the idea + the age of our child/children. If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you’ve surely caught on and played witness to my slip ups on this and then re-centering. But, all in all, I think we are moving at just the right pace for all of us.

3. Escape from the kids (whenever humanly possible).

John and I have every other weekend alone. Usually I hide away in his apartment and lounge on his couch, eating fudge pops and watching TV.  We do leave to go out with friends, dinner or for a quick shopping trip. But it’s so nice to just do next to nothing and enjoy each other. The routine sets me back on house cleaning and I play catch up all week, but it’s worth every minute. I want to give him that… just me, sans Benjamin.

This weekend we’re taking off for Ann Arbor to visit my great uncle and my great aunt. My great uncle’s sister, my grandmother was also a single mom. But in the 1950’s. Can you imagine? She raised four boys with the help of her World War 1 widowed mother and never re-married.

Although, the story goes – that she used to go ball room dancing every weekend…

4. Don’t forget about YOU.

This is the hardest one for me. Between my quickly growing search engine optimization and social marketing firm, my son and my boyfriend there is little time for me to just be. So I force myself to go for walks at lunch. I say no “a lot.” And I LOVE my work, so that helps. Being at work, working on what I love counts as being good to myself (on most days). Right?

The point is that you have to manage your stress. Good luck with that one (I know it’s the hardest).

>>> Read all of my past Single Mom Dating Tips posts for more.

Benjamin came home with a headache on Tuesday.

Which turned into a fever on Tuesday night.

Which turned into puking on Wednesday night.

Which turned into… ahhh, never mind.

The sick fairies spared John Bear and I the vomiting but left us with severe headaches and congestion.

Benjamin pukes like a champ by the way. It frightens me. It’s like the kid is built or designed for college parties. As soon as he feels a squirm in his stomach he runs to the bathroom, puts both hands on the toilet seat, braces himself and then…

Like a pro.

I can hear his future friends cheering him on now as he emerges from the bathroom and declares, “Give me another one!”

I can sit here and hope that’s just a vision, but I’m bracing myself for a time in Benjamin’s life when he’s working hard and playing hard, like his mother used to be. Used to be. Now I can’t have more than two beers without wanting to call it a night and head home.

One shot of tequila is all it takes to make me forget my limits. And then boom – I wake up with a hang over that lasts 48 hours. I’m a light-weight now, what can I say? Drinking and I just don’t get along anymore.

At some point this week, being stuck in the house with my little sick, puking goblin I tested out a new camera lens on my fridge. In this winter darkness of never ending snow and flu, my refrigerator is the brightest thing in the house. An impromptu scrap book, my fridge is where I stick memories I unearth while cleaning or dusting in odd places.

There’s the photo of my sister and I. Our faces warm from spending days by the pool at our apartment in Texas. We were in the back seat of a friend’s car when I took that, moments away from hitting a bar in Austin.

My Athens block is holding us up, near some notes Anna sent me just a few weeks ago. Love my sister. So much.

To the right there’s the picture of John Bear and I, the one I tore it out of a scratch copy of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored. I look like I’m going to maul him or something but I still like that picture. Taken on such a good weekend.

On the bottom right is a picture of my father’s family – my dad is one of the little guys in the front. My grandmother, a single mother to four boys during the 50’s and 60’s is on the top right. I never met her. Like my father, she died of cancer when she was 50. Damn the cancer.

And on the front is Mr. Germ Doctor, always packing a new illness to infect Mommy with.

He hides them so well. The germs. But they’re in there…

[BTW: Those cute Lois Lane magnets are on Amazon.]

]]> http://mssinglemama.com/2010/02/26/holed-up/feed/ 2 http://mssinglemama.com/2010/02/21/butterflies-vs-lead-weights/ http://mssinglemama.com/2010/02/21/butterflies-vs-lead-weights/#comments Sun, 21 Feb 2010 23:02:42 +0000 mssinglemama http://mssinglemama.com/?p=5335

When I met John Bear I didn’t have non-stop butterflies jumping around in my stomach.

I didn’t ache or pine for him.

I didn’t daydream about him, waiting for him to call.

Instead, I felt like a level-headed woman, slowly falling for someone who swept me away with his generosity, kind spirit, sweet surprises and constant mantra, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And he didn’t go anywhere. Not then.

Not even then.

And not now.

And I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon. We are completely and utterly into each other, but in a new kind of way (for both of us).

Earlier this weekend a single mom girlfriend of mine was telling me about a recent nice guy she’s dating who pampers her with dinners, gifts, nice words and kind actions but there’s something missing.

“I just don’t feel the butterflies,” she said.

And while this guy may not be a keeper, I still had to slap down some advice in hopes of breaking her in for a future of dating only nice guys, or as I like to call them – real men.

“You don’t have to feel butterflies right away. They’re like a drug, clouding your judgment. You should feel lead weights and they drop once every few weeks. They mean something, you feel calm, happy… content.”

This morning John Bear, Benjamin and I headed to Barnes & Noble. On the way in I snapped up a copy of Lori Gottlieb’s Marry Him. When I first read the article that sparked the book I wrote this blog post exploring some of her ideas. Her words had touched a few nerves but I listened and digested her thoughts wondering if I had just lost my Mr. Good Enough. In my case, Kris. Mr. Good Enough, Gottlieb argued was the guy many “picky” single women pass up on while searching for Mr. Right, Mr. Perfect 10, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor. By eliminating men because they were balding, or had a weird twitching eye – whatever – she argued we were setting ourselves up to be alone, forever.

I didn’t mind the thought of being alone forever and wrote:

Lori Gottlieb can husband shop all she wants, but this single mom is not ready for one again.

But, if I do meet someone who wants to grab my hand and pull me off of that cliff – I might reconsider. In otherwords, I may be a single mom but I still need the sparks and there’s no way I’m settling.

Now, well over one year later and 10 months into the greatest relationship I’ve ever been had, I have to say – I completely agree with her. But would I call John Bear my Mr. Good Enough? Did I settle? No way. I am still wrapped up in that warm blanket, soaking it all in – loving this and him like I never imagined. With that said, I don’t and have never felt with him the same kind of crazy butterflies and sparkage I felt with prior alpha-male, bad boys. This, I believe, is an incredibly positive thing.

I’ve already done the studly guy with the foreign accent who gives you millions upon millions of butterflies but no substance, no lead weights that drop into the pit of your stomach and knock the wind out of you. So it’s not that you’re settling for Mr. Good Enough, I think that’s the touch-point Gottlieb gets everyone riled up on – instead, it’s about choosing to settle down with a man for all of the right reasons, not the wrong ones.

I think Carrie Sloan of LemonDrop.com nailed it in her review or Marry Him!:

The thing is, the most unsettling part of the book for me was the word “settle,” because, despite the title, that’s not exactly what Gottlieb’s espousing. She’s simply suggesting you not walk in the shoes of her younger self: A very particular girl who wrote guys off indiscriminately, for all the wrong reasons, for too long. And, when you are ready to settle down, look for someone who’s going to be a good partner, rather than, say, a master sexter with bedroom eyes.

And then she added in regards to her recent marriage,

I don’t think either one of us thinks we’ve settled. It’s more that we grew up. And I think all Gottlieb’s urging you to do is use your perch on the bar to scan the room for nice guys you might otherwise overlook — because you might find they grow on you when the time comes not to settle, but to settle down.

After I put her book down I took a seat on the floor by the train table at Barnes and Noble and watched as John Bear tossed a giggling Benjamin up and down in the air. The nicest guy in the world who happens to be earning his way deeper and deeper into my heart, one lead weight at a time.

Forget the butterflies. Seriously. Butterflies are for teenagers.

Back up reading (old posts I’ve written on all of this):

Do you still believe in the one? I certainly hope not.
My Must Have Man List
Did I lose my Mr. Good Enough?
That Couple

On Friday, after an incredibly successful photo shoot for Cement Marketing client, Lifeline of Ohio, Morgan and I met up Jen K for a night out.

I think this picture speaks more than 1,000 words.

The three of us were so happy and excited to be hanging out that people nearby asked us what we were celebrating.

Friendship.

That’s what.

I don’t know where I would be without the friendships I have formed because of this blog and the virtual ties it has afforded me. Being single moms, it’s hard to meet new people because our free time is filled with kid-time. What do you think? Is finding new friends easy for you or tough?

How do you let your guard down to trust? Is there hope for us 30+ year olds who don’t yet have a tight niche of friends to form new ones?

P.S.

I start my 7 days of the 30 Day Shred tomorrow. Will let you know how it’s going. And yes, I’m nervous but pumped, too.

The 7-Day Quit Challenge

One (almost) year ago, on February 16, 2009 – I smoked my last cigarette.

I didn’t tell you this then, but my last cigarette was a nasty butt – what was left of the cigarette lit by a man the night before. He had appeared out of, what seemed like no where, on the sidewalk in front of what is now my new Cement Marketing office.

Funny how I still think about that guy, that moment – often. Something clicked for me that night and I decided that I wanted to be more like him and less like me. I wanted to be in control of my path, in control of where I was going – and even if I couldn’t control every pot hole I’d hit, at least I would be driving the car.

The minute I chose to change my future, to take control of my life and quit smoking – everything changed.

Now I am challenging myself to quit something else… because I am far from perfect and I’m kind of hooked to this taking control of my life thing. I am going to quit denying myself the time I need to exercise. I am not in a cubicle anymore, I set my own hours and I am completely out of excuses. And even though I don’t mind the weight I’ve gained over the past year (about 10-15 pounds, I don’t have a scale so I can’t be sure) I do mind that none of my jeans fit anymore.

I need to tone this little body of mine up, but above all – I need a stress reliever. Just ask John Bear. The poor guy looks like he may suffer a stroke or something every time I look at him funny.

To start me off I am going to work out to (gasp) this totally terrifying 30 Day Shred DVD I ordered after Kristin mentioned it to me on our visit to Vancouver last Spring and then again on her blog, or one of her blogs, recently. So I bought it and now for the first time since last summer (when I hurt myself trying to pick up jogging) I am going to attempt to exercise.

And not only attempt – but I am going to work out to this video for seven days in a row. (Starting on Sunday, February 14). I would start tomorrow but Morgan is here and we are spending a few days on a photo shoot for my client.

Your Turn.

Quit something. Anything. Pass or fail and you’ll still win.

I have read some amazing quit ideas from you all – on Twitter, Facebook and here in the comments – that have nothing to do with weight, smoking or your typical quit pledges. You’ve mentioned things like attitude changes, not talking about the ex as often. Fantastic stuff.

Here’s your mission.

Leave a comment between now and February 14th telling me what you are going to quit. Come back seven days later on February 21 and tell me how you did. Fail? Pass? Leave your comment telling me your results as a Reply to your first comment.

Just like this… see how Ian left a comment here and then I replied. Well, this time you will be replying to yourself.

That way I will be able to double check the dates and that it’s really you.

The Prize

Everyone who takes me up on the challenge (pass or fail) will get a totally free copy of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored – the best little eBook for single moms out there.

I am not sure working like this is entirely healthy for anyone, let alone a single mom. My back and shoulders are a tight, tangled mess of nerves and poor posture induced kinks. My face keeps breaking out and my bedroom is constantly messy, always a sign of being too busy to breathe.

I need to buy one of those jacuzzi tubs or enslave a personal massage therapist. Between work, the house and Benjamin I rarely find a moment to myself – in the peace and quiet of the nothing to do.

How can us professional parents keep up with the childless who can devote 100% of their energy to their work? And isn’t there something wrong with this picture? Overworked workers, unemployment lines growing, parents who are left with no time to raise their children and young people who know having a child would spell disaster for their career.

Are we all just being taken for a ride? A ride that ends at the last and final stop when we wake up (too late) to realize we have worked our lives away. Shouldn’t we all slow down a bit? Seems like we’re all getting a bit carried away. Or maybe it has always been like this and I am just the mother of a three year old lost in the Land of the Toddler standing her gaping at the Land of Employment During a Recession.

The future scares me (just a little bit). Nothing to panic about.

It’s my neurotic paranoia setting in as the months fly by and I wonder when they will turn into years flying by. The end. I hate thinking about the end and I don’t want it to get here (not yet).

Not like this.

Life has to slow down first so I can enjoy the moments, or at, the very least, take a damn bath. One year ago I wrote this post for WeTV asking the real mothers to please stand up and I explored Gloria Steinem’s thought that the women’s rights movement isn’t over – that true success is not doing it all. I wondered out loud how we mothers could be held up to such impossible standards:

The pressure of motherhood in today’s world, if you think about it, is unbelievable — and it comes at us from every direction, every day, in every hour and in every minute. If we’re doing one thing, we’re often thinking about another. If we’re working, we wish we could be home with the kids. If we’re staying at home, we wonder what it would be like to have that career. But while raising a human is arguably the most important job on this planet, there are no exceptional clauses to protect mothers in the work place….

Today with the advent of blogs and all other forms of online communication, millions of moms are rewriting the definition of success by telling their own stories – re-writing the definition of success one word at a time. The real stories from the trenches of motherhood have emerged.

As a result, advertisers, politicians, employers and the media are no longer telling us how to think, or what we should feel but asking us for a seat at the table. As for whether or not it will work, we’ll see but at least it’s a start.

If you’re like me (crazed about making it work with so little time and searching for clarity) read Seth Godin’s free and new eBook, What Matters Now. Absolutely awesome. I read a new page every morning, savoring them before they run out.

What are your thoughts? Do you think the US should follow suit of European countries, like Germany, and give mothers many more freedoms to stay home with their little ones if they choose? Should we take a step back and demand mothers’ rights in the workplace?

Personally, I have an exceptional job and am treated very well at work – but the hours are naturally demanding and I have to keep up with people who don’t have children, so that’s tough personally because as much as I would like to slow down, I want to do it all. I want to be everything to everyone.

I am not unhappy or depressed. The rushed feeling is just killing me. Share your thoughts. Really curious about what you all think.

—–

The above is why it has taken me so long to announce the winner to my New Year New Leaf contest.

It was a tough call but I thought her post nailed the mission.

Each and every one of you who entered should have received your free copy of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored by now. If you haven’t, e-mail me and I’ll get you one right away.

You all inspire me beyond belief. Every single day. You tell me I inspire you, but – believe me – it’s the other way around.

It’s been nearly one year – to the day – that Mia found out her boyfriend and the father of their, then four year old daughter, was leaving. She found out a few weeks later that the catalyst of his leaving was an affair with another woman.

When it happened, she was in complete and utter shock. Physically, emotionally – she was absolutely wrecked.

During that time she wrote a series of blog posts, which I published here for her. If you missed them, catch up here.

Her good days now outnumber the bad but this morning she sent me another post after waking up to an all-too-familiar feeling. One that all of us seasoned single moms know all too well. Read on and I’m sure you’ll relate. Somehow, like she always does, Mia was able to capture that raw emotion into words.

Nightmares

By Mia

Mia - in March of last year, shortly after

I woke myself up from a deep sleep at 7am weeping. Like the kind of crying that you can only do alone. Curled up in a ball not sure if I was still in the dream or not. The crying felt good though. It felt like home. As I cried I longed to be back in that state again – the state I was in last year this time. A year ago tomorrow.

December 4th, when I came home from work on my lunch break because he didn’t sound right on the phone. Something was more wrong than it had ever been and I knew it, but I had no idea what I was coming home to. I walked into the kitchen and he was sitting on the counter crying, telling me he wanted to move out. It felt like someone had shut all the lights in the world off and I was left with a small, dim, flashlight searching for the meaning in what was happening. I sat in the kitchen chair that day, weeping in the same hollow, painful way that woke me up this morning. And it didn’t stop for months.

That seems like so long ago. And I have come so far. So why am I sad now? Why did it feel good to cry like that again? I have been asking myself that question all morning. What was comforting about the way I wept this morning? Is it that I don’t want to be over it? I don’t want to be moved on? Maybe. Not yet. The sadness was a blanket that allowed me to hide. To keep myself from feeling that it was actually over.

I know it is over, and I don’t long for my old life back, but I am not ready for it to be gone completely either. I don’t want to think about what lies ahead, good or bad. I just want to lean on the crutch of ‘I can’t believe this happened’ for a little while longer. To use it as an excuse to be sad at the drop of a hat, drink wine for no reason, hug my daughter a little longer than she wants me to.

So, my dream…

I was in a car accident. I didn’t remember it but I knew I was in one. I was wearing my old Allman Brothers tee shirt, underwear, and nothing else. It was cold on my feet but I didn’t care. I was walking to find him. I walked up to the bar I was sure he was at, it looked more like a shack on a junk yard, tires piled up and gloomy. A man I didn’t recognize greeted me by name but I could tell he was worried by how I looked, a look of shock on my face.

I walked past him through the bar to the back where he was sitting at a table, half under a tarp, with a group of people. He was playing a hand held video game and looked up as I neared. I could see his mouth moving and I thought he was asking me to play with him, and I smiled, feeling better that I had found him. As I got closer I heard him more clearly say “I am done playing these games with you.” I began to beg him for help, trying not to cry. He asked me to please leave, telling me it was inappropriate for me to be there. Inappropriate. I have heard those words a lot lately. It doesn’t sound like him.

I wasn’t surprised he wouldn’t help me, but I was crushed. I felt like I should have known better. I had felt this longing and rejection before. I felt it last year at this time. I let it consume me and I dropped to my knees crying the same cry that woke me this morning.

This isn’t supposed to be a sad story.

I feel like I am just where I need to be. I accept that I am doing the best I can and I am not going to apologize for not being “perfectly fine”. I am better than fine- I am normal. I have my ups and I have my downs. Knowing my limitations, and what I am not ready for is a good thing I guess. I am not going to let myself go back to the sad place I was in before but I won’t beat myself up for enjoying the good cry this morning either.

Maybe I am just done playing games. The games that keep both of us from fully moving on. The invisible string that keeps us emotionally wrapped up in each other needs to be cut. Maybe we are both ready to do that. Finally. A year later.

I got up from bed, washed off my face, and went in to my daughter’s room and hugged her for a long time. She hugged me back and I felt all the goodness I will ever need. I felt perfectly fine, if even for just a moment.

Really. I’m not.

Why? Because E.T. says so. See? He’s clearly communicating with me here – sending me a telepathic message that the cute kid holding him needs to be the center of my life and that everything else must come secondary. But to keep the cute kid educated, happy and fed, I must sacrifice myself to do so… well, kind of – at least temporarily – or until I adapt to my new workload.

I am sorry I have been so scant.

Work is work and there is a lot of work at work. Did you follow that? If not — translation = I am even busier than before. Isn’t that lovely?

Adaption is coming though, I can feel it. I will have time to breath again soon. Either that, or I will be dead and they’ll have to scrape me up from the floor. I tell that to my co-workers often and they laugh – but what they don’t know is that I am serious. Single Mama Collapsion Syndrome. It happens. And that’s my name for it, so bug off.

Must adapt. Must adapt. Phone home. Phone home.

Someone please.

Beam me up. I need the weekend.

And when I get there I’ll announce the winners to my eBook Work It contest. Have not forgotten, just too busy to gather the winners and post.

This is Holly.

We met one month ago when I decided to have my first manicure and pedicure in over three years… maybe four. On one of my afternoon escapades with Benjamin and just after I’d found out about my new job, I noticed a sign outside for her salon for a $20.00 manicure and a $35.00 pedicure. The sign and her low price (manicures are ridiculously expensive in Ohio for some reason) got me I made an appointment for some long overdue Me Time.

So there we were, two single moms, one in the midst of year three and beginning the best relationship she’s ever had and the other just beginning, only a single for five months with two daughters-ages 11 and 5. We spent a good amount of our time that day talking about everything from ex-management to bad boy complexes and facing your fears as a single mom.

Today during my pedicure (oh, so awesome) I pointed to a headline on one of those magazines with a quote from Kate Gosselin, “I never knew how strong I could be,” something to that effect. I read the line to Holly and then she said, “Yeah, but there are a lot of emotions along the way before you get to that point.”

I nodded and neither one of us had to say a word.

The single mama roller coaster. No matter where you are on the ride there will always be a cliff hanger, a sudden drop or maybe even a few jerks but then there is that awesome high you get when you start to free fall. But not once did a negative word escape Holly’s mouth. She is remarkable and like most of us, would rather have it this way – no matter how tough the going gets.

We also talked about work, working our asses off – to make it work. Holly recently went out on her own by opening her own boutique within the salon. I mention it only because I empathize with her bravery.

Which brings me to my question for all of you--how do you make it work? What is your solution? Or are you looking for one?

Do you work from home? Do you work part-time? Do you have a punching bag? Do you have a miracle organization system? I am sure our advice and insights for one another on managing work, life, dating and the kids will be incredible. So spill it in the comment section and feel free to leave a link to your business if you have one. Personally, I try to shop single mama whenever I can.

Everyone who leaves a comment will be entered to win one of five copies of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored: Dating, Sex and Love. (Still only $8.95 a copy btw).

And then I found out her little boutique within the salon is her first stab at starting her own business. Which brings me to something I want to pick your brain about… how do you make it work?

P.S.

If you live in Columbus, find Holly here.

The plane lands with a jerk as I reach under the seat to rescue my purse from its lonely spot on the floor.

I stretch my fingers into the darkness hoping my purse is the only thing I find. This is the last leg on a whirlwind of business trips. The first one to Baltimore and the second to Boulder. My team and I were in and out of each city in less than 36 hours. In Boulder, the whirlwind included scenery that takes your breath, steals it and then gives it back again.

How about a mountain with your coffee?

But now all I want is my purse, my keys, my car, John Bear and my bed. In that order. Benjamin will have to wait until the morning because he is already asleep.

I turn my face toward a piece of chewing gum the passenger before me had wedged into the pleather fold of the seat pocket. If I am facing it, there’s no way the gum can capture my hair. After accepting the gum’s existence at the start of our two hour flight I then tried to envision the type of person who would actually do such a thing.

My first imaginary gum chewing culprit is a 10-year-old boy with an attitude. But women and children are few and far between on these business flights. I throw the kid away and settle on a vision of a slightly overweight middle-aged man with dark shadows under his eyes, greasy hair and a bruised ego courtesy of the cute blond chick who had refused to give him her phone number at a bar the night before.

Your classic chain reaction of rejection and hurt. She hurt me so I am going to stick my gum right here so I can ruin someone else’s day. If you can think of a more probable explanation for the gum on the seat than I am all ears. The gum leads me to thinking about anger and why we harbor it, why we carry hatred around with us like a heavy bag, like a tasteless and old nasty piece of gum. Not just single moms, but people in general. Why is it so damn hard to drop that baggage?

Is it because we don’t know how to live without defining ourselves by our past? And how do we shed the vicious and often completely misguided labels others give us?

When we finally do we’ll drop pounds of anger. But many of us carry it around taking it out on undeserving strangers, our own family, a first date or the lady behind the counter – and, of course, plane seats.

Just drop it, already. There’s too much life to live. And get some sleep, that will help too.

P.S.

Speaking of  baggage. Mr. Man texted me during my rushed business trip to Boulder, Colorado asking about this recipe. I’m telling you, they are the best pancakes on Earth.