by mssinglemama on April 26, 2009
There are few material things that ever really wow me.
Here are two.
Benjamin’s new “water boots”.
For the first time in three years Benjamin’s father bought him a pair of shoes.
He had no way of knowing this but I’ve been trying to find a cool pair of puddle stomping boots for months. But they never had Benjamin’s size or they were just too cartoony. These are perfect.
We’re about to enter week three of our two nights a week arrangement and with each week my ex is being more responsive, more engaged as a father and even more attentive to my concerns and my needs. I’m not over analyzing it, wondering why now or what next. I’m just enjoying this and fanning the flames of hope.
The future doesn’t have to be so frightening. I make it frightening as a defense mechanism. It’s a bad habit to break but I’m working on it.
My Ford Fiesta.
I am absolutely divinely head over heels in love with my new ride.
I just got home last night but Benjamin and I were out and about all day cruising.
Now I’m wiped out.
I have a lot of video to edit, some posts to write and a secret self-induced single mama mission to tell you about. I just had to go rogue and get a jump start on this whole mission thing. The story will have to wait until I sleep and catch up on everything else.
Until then check out my Fiesta Movement Training Flickr pictures. Start with this picture of me on Lake Michigan in Chicago. Sigh. Then head over to Morgan’s Flickr of the trip because she is actually a photographer. Her shots are, as usual, out of this world.
by mssinglemama on April 12, 2009
My son can’t wait to be a man.
You don’t have to know him very well to instantly see that inside of this little three-year-old is a strong, tough guy waiting to come out and do man things all day.
Take my Uncle Dennis’ truck for example.
There is no place on Earth Benjamin would rather be than sitting in the back taking a donut break.
That’s why I’m going to hold pictures like this for ransom.
Oh! And those underwear he has on - he calls them “panties”.
I did NOT do that on purpose.
I swear.
I honestly just called them panties for two weeks before it dawned on me, “Hey, that doesn’t sound right.”
Too late. Panties they will be until someone else can convince him otherwise. See the rest of our Easter photos here - Martha Stewart would have a heart attack.
Happy Easter!
We’re heading down to grandma’s today with Mia and Sydney, who are both doing really well (I’ll bug her for another post).
—–
My ex’s request and hate mail [updates]
I’ve decided to let Benjamin’s father keep him for two nights this week. Your advice on that was, as usual, spot on. My favorite tip is to take it week by week, see how it goes and always let Benjamin say if he wants to stay or vice versa. It’s all about Benjamin and if he wants his dad then he gets his dad. And even though my ex-husband has even expressed desires to go back to Canada, he’s still here. And I shouldn’t deprive my son of his father while he still has one around.
I also do believe, especially after reading a comment from Canadian Bald Guy (a single father himself) that men can change as fathers because the children change.
If you’re looking for something really awesome watch his video in response to my hate letter. He basically tips his hat off to single mothers in a big, big way. Coming from a single dad that means the world to me and so did all of your comments. The world, people. Seriously. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
You all made her words disappear in an instant.
by mssinglemama on April 8, 2009
Maybe I gave up.
Maybe I just didn’t want to hear another “I can’t” or “I’ll try” - each one cutting a bit deeper than the last.
But somewhere along the way I just stopped.
I stopped asking my ex-husband to spend more time - time outside of his 36 hours a week - with our son.
So I’m not sure why, when Benjamin refused to let go of his father this afternoon, I said, “he needs you now, more than ever - maybe you should spend more time with him.” [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on April 6, 2009
It’s been so long since I’ve had a husband, or even a steady boyfriend for that matter, that I now can only imagine what it would be like. There’s nothing tangible left, not even an old pair of boxer shorts. Just pictures like this one.
At first, when Benjamin was just four-months-old, the memories of having someone were fresh. It pained me to imagine being alone for one more day, let alone a lifetime. Now, nearly three years later, I’ve completely adapted to going it solo, 100% of the time.
With that said, I can’t say that my imaginary husband doesn’t pop into my head every once in a while. He teases me with visions of what it would be like to have some help in the form of a sexy man who I get all to myself forever and ever.
Sometimes I even write him letters.
This week his imaginary chores included:
- Super gluing the shield of Benjamin’s toy knight back on.
- Removing me from the bar after my third shot of tequila on my 30th birthday to save me from my drunk self. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on March 11, 2009
Benjamin is catching on to the fact that there is no man in this house.
And it’s hard.
I didn’t think it would be so difficult to hear them:
“Mommy, is Daddy working?”
“Yes, baby, he’s working but he misses you.”
and the new one…
“Mommy, do you have a daddy?”
“No. Not anymore.”
“Where is he? Is he working?”
“No, honey he is gone. But he loves you too.”
I’m awful at this shit.
They’re just so hard to answer - these questions that carry such incredible weight to us adults - so I try to keep it simple. And Benjamin doesn’t just talk about his Daddy every once in a while, it’s at least once an hour. But it’s also every time he’s crying or throwing a fit over something.
Between sobs he always manages an, ” I - waaaaannnnntttt mmmmyyyyy daddddyy.”
It’s hard as hell to hear that in those moments.
—–
The two men I’ve actually fallen for since becoming a single mom, Kris and Mr. Man, were polar opposites right down to their looks and their age. But they both had one thing in common — Benjamin adored them and they adored him right back. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on February 10, 2009
I got a text message at 5:27 a.m. this morning from Benjamin’s father.
“So not coming.”
That’s all it said. No reason why. Nothing. Normally I would have rolled back over and kept sleeping but given that tonight is date night I shot up like a bullet.
“Why? He is expecting you,” I texted back.
Nothing.
Twenty minutes later I call him.
“I’m sick, I’ve been puking all night,” he says.
A wave of memories hits me - the sick days I’ve had with Benjamin, the long voyages to the store or to grandma’s nauseated as hell.
“That’s bull shit,” I said.
Then he hung up the phone.
When Benjamin woke up I had to break the news. He’s been expecting him lately, more than ever because he’s getting older and is now much more aware of Daddy’s presence or absence, whichever it is that week. He took it like a champ and gobbled down his cereal but I know tonight he’ll be crying for him. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on January 17, 2009
“I talked to someone who works with your ex’s girlfriend,” my friend said.
“Really? And?”
“She is acting all excited saying he bought a new car and they are all moving to Canada - together.”
My face lit up and then crumbled all at once. Certainly, it must have. I can’t hide anything. It’s annoying. Hearing that felt something like this: conflicted excitement that he’ll finally be completely gone instead of partially gone and then total horror at the idea of him taking them with him - his girlfriend and her six-year-old son.
“When?” I asked.
“She said it would be in a few weeks or something.”
I called Benjamin’s father later this afternoon. Small talk first - brief small talk - and then:
“So? Have you been thinking about Canada? Have you made up your mind?”
“I can’t talk right now. We’re really busy.”
“Well, call me back when you get off. I want to talk about this.”
Still no call.
Just waiting now in the quiet of our apartment. I’m at the precipice, looking over and wondering what’s on the other side. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on January 8, 2009
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. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on December 27, 2008
All of Benjamin’s life people have commented on his eyelashes.
“They’re from his father,” I say. They are amazing. Like little butterfly wings.
He also has his father’s body - his shoulders, his legs, his torso and even his little butt. But he has my smile, my eyes and my eyebrows. Like any mother, I day dream about what kind of a man Benjamin will become. But unlike most mothers, I hope against all hopes that, aside from the physical resemblance, that my son is nothing like his father.
——-
His father is the mysterious man who shows up once a week to pick him up for an overnight. We barely know each other any more. I can’t even remember what it felt like to be in love with him - I must have been delusional, I think. There’s nothing there now. Nothing at all. Just a shadow of the girl I used to be… a naive girl who would fall for a man and marry him on a whim because he needed a Green card.
Here’s the thing, when you’re a little girl and you dream of that damn prince and the castle you forget to dream about how he’ll be as a father. At least I did.
This dream surfaces, for some of us, in the form of a blinding nightmare because it’s after we’ve already had his child. And it dawns on us that we’ve bred with a rotten apple, a dud, a bad father. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on December 14, 2008
I’ve been sleeping quite soundly ever since.
