“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]

Not that I don’t believe in love or anything - I’m a huge fan of love. But fantasy ideas of finding “the one” or a “prince charming” can be reckless for your children and your self. Actually, it could save us all a lot of heartache if we entered relationships with our heads, keeping our hearts in check, while we assess our true compatibility with a man.

Read this article from Psychology Today to find out why.

[P.S. I found this while researching relationships! Scary stuff, I tell ya. My head by the way, is still very securely in place, and it feels wonderful. Another Mr. Man post is coming soon... just been busy catching up from our big trip this weekend.]

Which is why I am now an unmarried single mother.

The only difference - I now have half of the laundry and half of the dishes to clean. Seriously. When your husband contributes very little around the house, when you’re the one driving the kids to and from everything and then at the end of the night when he isn’t even there for you emotionally, but actually makes you feel worse - it’s easy to feel like a single mother when you’re married.

Married mothers tell me this all of the time, “I feel like a single mom!”

I bite my lip and try not to scream, “Why in the hell are you with him then? Get out! It’s awesome over here. You could be free - of him.” Instead, I nod slowly and listen, trying to put myself back in that spot - that tough spot - when you can’t decide whether or not you should leave. So I ask, “Will he try counseling?” The answer is almost always, “No way.”

I give them all of the positive support and advice I can muster but sometimes, from the outside looking in - especially when you’ve been there, it’s clear they’d be better off single. But I can’t make the choice for them. Everyone has to do what they need to do and should exhaust all options before ending a marriage.

Some married single mothers aren’t even fighting anymore. They’ve given up entirely on improving their marriage after meeting road block after road block from their husbands. As a result, they’ve conceded to the fact that this is their life and have committed themselves to this terminal diagnosis - “til death do us part.” My opinion on this is clear… I’ve said it before - to hell with religious beliefs, to hell with what your friends and family think - men need to step up or get the hell out, and if not then get rid of them. Why?

Because being a single mother is far better than being a miserably married mother. And your children need to see you happy, both of you happy.

With that said, I have met so many single fathers who clearly didn’t deserve to be left. So there are definitely magnificent husbands out there being neglected as well, but that’s another topic for another post. Back to the single married mothers…

Will you be instantly happier if you leave your husband? No. Divorce is hell. The entire process is hell. But once the dust settles the days will be brighter and so will the future. Just get a good attorney.

Here’s a story a friend shared after leaving her husband recently, “Now I can finally eat crunchy peanut butter again. I know it sounds silly, but he hated crunchy peanut butter so I never bought it - it just makes me so happy - this stupid jar of peanut butter, I can’t stop eating it. Isn’t that crazy?”

No, it isn’t crazy at all. What sounds crazy is staying in a relationship with a man who won’t let you buy crunchy peanut butter. Or one, in which, you give up everything you love for him and receive nothing in return.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a long, long time. Because I think of them often - the married mothers who are still there, dreaming of leaving but giving him time to change. They are prisoners, sometimes slaves to the relationship, trapped in a cage with someone who won’t help them climb out, someone who doesn’t care enough to fight with you to make it work. And that sucks.

This post may come off as harsh to some (men) but I could care less. Many of you need to step up to your responsibilities as husbands and fathers and stop acting like boys. And for God’s sakes - consider marriage counseling.

More advice on whether or not you should leave your husband.

Photo Credit: [Pregnancy Depression Help.]

I’ve been planning this weekend’s trip since… oh, Monday.

But I waited to pack until tonight. Smart. Tomorrow morning Benjamin, Mr. Man and I are headed down to Kan-Tuck-Ee (I love saying it like that) to visit Morgan (aka Modern Single Momma or, as I like to call her, my soul sister).

Morgan will be meeting Benjamin (and Mr. Man) for the first time, while I’ll be meeting her man for the first time. Needless to say, we’re both pumped. She lives in Portland so we never get to see each other, it’s been months now actually since the first time we met in San Francisco.

And when it comes to love as a single mom, Morgan is way ahead of me. She’s been with her Man in Moseley, now her Man in Kentucky since this spring and is planning on making a move there to join him this winter. Read her story about falling in love as a single mom here.

If Benjamin let’s us - we’ll be making another video. Do you have any questions or topics you’d like us to answer?

Leave a comment and let us know. If not… have a fantastic weekend. I hope you all get to spend some time with another single mom or single dad because single parent friends are life-savers.

[Photo: Morgan and I in San Francisco this past spring. Watch our video on dating single moms here.]

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.

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.

________

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.

We are in trouble.

It seems every day a friend tells me they have or may get laid off. And last night I got an e-mail from one of you, a single mother, who rather than taking on a second job is considering moving in with her boyfriend to save money.

Maybe we can all get some ideas from each other, practical money saving or job saving ideas for single moms… how are we going to do this? Morgan, Modern Single Momma - who as we speak is on a plane to see her Man in Moseley (now Kentucky) - went so far as to skip a salon wax for an at home Brazilian. OUCH.

Aside from groceries, some entertainment and clothes for Benjamin I’ve stopped spending money all together.

I know, that’s like the worst thing I can do for the economy, but I’ll leave all of that good faith spending to the two-income married couples thank you very much.

Any ideas? I know Barack Obama has a few - but, as he’s said himself, it’s not going to be easy. And while they’re all trying to figure this out in Washington I think we all need to hunker down and brace ourselves - i.e. save, save, save.

And would you consider getting a roommate - a manperson or maybe a friend - to help you pay the bills?

For more of my worrisome banter read Apolcalypse Now? in which I ask if any of you feel like you need a man to help out or if any of you want to start a single parent commune with me.

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.

—-

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

We met at the bar my mother and I used to frequent after my father died.

Mom and I were there this time, not to drown our sorrows, but to celebrate her birthday. As soon as we stepped inside she took off for the patio and I took the only empty seat at the bar - right next to Mr. Man.

His southern drawl told me immediately he was a townie, a working stiff, the real deal. Incompatible, I thought. I’m a city girl, constantly attached to some kind of electronic device. Or maybe we could work, this thought didn’t come until later after I’d left him at the bar and returned nearly an hour later to find him discreetly holding my seat, waiting for me to come back.

Only then did I really look into his eyes and realize that this man wasn’t kidding around or playing me, he was serious. Beneath his rough exterior I saw a soft, strong heart and something very comforting, familiar almost. We talked for hours there at the bar. What shocked me the most, after years now of dating so many of those fish in that big bad sea, was his genuine interest in listening to what I had to say.

And he responded to my thoughts, not with fantastical stories but with stories that related to mine, stories he told because he wanted to share them with me not because he wanted to prove something or get me into bed.

Three hours later, near closing time, Mom started gesturing behind his head, pointing to him with her thumb high in the air and mouthing, “I like him.” A few moments later she invited him back to her house. I, completely intoxicated at this point, threw out all logic and went along with the plan. We’d go home and wake up my uncle and Mom’s man, Larry and have a little party. It would be great!

Yeah, sure, keep talking drunk Alaina.

Had we not taken him home that night I’m not quite sure if I ever would have seen him again. In fact, I’m almost certain I would have just brushed him off… disregarding him as just another guy at another bar.

After talking deep into the night, I settled Mr. Man into the guest bedroom and headed upstairs to sleep with Benjamin. I woke up just a few hours later with a vicious headache. (I really don’t drink that often, so my hangovers are horrible when I do.) Only after rubbing my eyes and crawling out of bed to chase after Benjamin did I realize - to my horror - what had happened the night before. I had brought a man home! Seriously?

“Holy shit,” my brain was on fire, “What in the hell am I going to do? There’s a man. Here. In my mom’s house with my son. I am such a shitty, shitty mother.”

I started plotting some way to hide him. I’ll sneak him out the back door and take him home. But first, I’ve got to feed Benjamin. So I quietly made the eggs, the bacon and the biscuits - standard breakfast out in the woods at Mom’s. And then I heard his footsteps, coming up the stairs. Damn, he wakes up early.

And then there he was…

“Hello, Benjamin. How are you?” And just like that, Mr. Man leaned onto the counter and immediately dove right in to Benjamin Land.

He’d remembered his name from the night before on the couch. He had kissed me there after telling me he wanted to spend all of Sunday with us — he had offered to take Benjamin outside for a hike so I could rest. Could he have meant all of that? Really?

Moments after Benjamin finished his last bite Mr. Man scooped him up like a little stuffed animal, so light in his big arms, “C’mon, Benjamin, let’s go outside.” Apparently so.

I watched from the deck as he took Benjamin around the yard - pointing out the different trees, little animal tracks and hidden bee hives - things I never would have noticed or known to show him myself. I love the outdoors but I don’t know what the hell is what. Benjamin was enthralled - absolutely enthralled with this man - in fact, I’ve never seen him fall for an adult like he did for Mr. Man.

Oh shit. You shitty, shitty mom.

“You can’t really be here all day,” I told him later.

“Really? Why not?”

“Oh, it’s not that I don’t like you, I do - it’s just Benjamin. You can’t be around him too much, he’ll get attached.” I explain.

“You know what - you’re right, I can see how that could happen. But I’m more worried that I’ll get attached to him. This kid’s awesome. He really is. He’s just amazing.”

An hour later he was still there, we had taken a hike and afterwards Mr. Man had found Larry and my uncle by the campfire. I had been upstairs tucking Benjamin in for a nap when I came down to join them.

That’s when he held me with his eyes. Right there by the campfire with everyone chattering around us, he just looked at me and told me - without saying a word - “I’m here. I like you. And I’m not going anywhere - unless you tell me to.”

He nearly knocked me off of my little log stool. I swear, I still don’t know how he did that…

To be continued…

[Photo credit: Paul Schmaltz]

Order your advanced copy here.

Like me, Christine, was 26 when she found out she was pregnant. Three months later her boyfriend made it clear he didn’t want to be a part of their lives.

I hope you enjoy these interviews.

>Pop over to Storked! to read Christine’s interview of yours truly.

MSM: After JD’s father left you have said you were bitter, but have since let that go. What helped you forgive and move on?

Christine: There’s no point to live life bitter. Life, mine in particular, is beautiful. I have a healthy, happy, thriving child, an awesome career and loving family and friends. I’ve been through a lot in my twenty-seven years (things I examine in my book, Rattled!) and those experiences have aged me far beyond 27. I know what’s important. Spending time being pissed off–not important. Feeding ducks with your toddler–important.

MSM: Your new book, Rattled! is set for release in April. Why do you think every single mother should own a copy? Don’t be modest, I want you to brag because I’m just in awe that you managed to write it in the first place and I personally can’t wait to get my hands on it.

Christine: I don’t know how I wrote it either. I can’t believe it’s done and that JD is 14-months old wearing size 24-months clothes. It’s pretty rad to have done this. For one thing, Rattled! doesn’t glorify being a single mother. My book is a lot darker and more raw than my Storked! readers are used to. I spare no one–especially myself. Going through my pregnancy alone, wearing a belly under my sweater and not a ring on my finger was a huge, life-changing experience. I cried more than I smiled in those nine months–it wasn’t until JD was born that I realized for the rest of my life, I am the luckiest woman on the planet, because I have my JD. He saved me. Completely. Rattled! is many things. I hope it’s a cautionary tale for 20-something women. You have sex sans protection, the threat of pregnancy is real. And whether you keep the baby, your life is changed forever. My advice. Be safer than I was. It’s also pretty laugh and cry out loud.

I have to say, I was reading the final manuscript the other day and I tried really hard to remove myself as the author. I was cheering for Christine in those 25 chapters. But what I really want the readers to take away is that life does happen. In a way this book isn’t even about getting pregnant. It’s about catching a curve ball, learning from it…moving on…not being so afraid of the unknown, but rather excited by it. Life holds many secrets. It’s kind of awesome. What’s next for me? I can hardly wait to find out.

MSM: Have you started dating yet? If so, how has it been? If not, why not and when do you think you’ll be ready?

Christine:  I’ve been asked out several times, but no, I’m not dating. The past year of my life was a whirlwind–I had three babies: JD, Storked!, and Rattled! Some haters on my blog labeled me desperate and I have to laugh. Wouldn’t a desperate single mom actually date or beg her ex to come back? I know life will unfold, organically…I’m not a huge planner and dating, well, it’s not a priority right now, but now that my book is done and some of the pressure is off, I think I might take a certain someone up.

That said, I don’t really intend to write about my dating life on Storked! Or anywhere for that matter

MSM: You have called yourself the real life version of that girl in the Knocked Up movie. I hated that movie - just because of the cheesy, and completely unrealistic happy ending. Did you feel the same way? What message do you think that movie sends to young single women?

Christine: Have I? Oh God. Something new I can regret writing. Sometimes I look back on Storked! and I’m like, why did I write that? But, I guess that means I’m changing. I’m not Allison at all. I was in a relationship. I didn’t get pregnant on a one-night-stand. JD’s “father” was practically living out of a suitcase in my apartment. But, Hooray for Hollywood, right?

The movie made me laugh at a time when I thought I was the only single, pregnant woman around. It’s funny, Knocked Up, Waitress and Juno all seemed to come out when I was pregnant. Ya know, the movie was cheesy, but I’d like to believe some women are as lucky as Allison. And thanks to the movie I know it’s okay to play fetch with my kid.

MSM: I ask everyone this one - why do you love being a single mother?

Christine: I don’t love being a single mother. I love being a mother. I love my child. I love the life we have created together. I love snack time when JD shares whatever he’s eating with me (even chewed up cheese), by popping it into my mouth. I do not actually like being single. I’m comfortable being single (and have actually always been the loner-type). For now it is how things are. Single and mother…I wish the two weren’t married like they are. Two, completely different words.

MSM: You’ve written on your blog about suddenly being labeled as a single mother and said that you weren’t really comfortable with that title. Because when it comes down to it - you are a writer. Now that the book is finished, has your attitude changed any?

Christine: Storked! made me a single mother. Not JD. To JD I am just his “mum.” To myself I am JD’s “mum” and a writer…and for the time being single. I am not the poster child for single mothers. I am not a single mother that woke up one day and decided to try her hand at writing. I will not be defined by “single mother”…changed, sure.

MSM: And finally, what is the most valuable piece of advice you would pass on to single mothers?

Christine: Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Still there? You’re fine. Now go play on the swings with your kid and feel the sun on your face. You’re blessed.

Christine M. Coppa is the author of Storked! on Glamour.com. Rattled! is her first book and comes out in April ‘09. She lives in North Jersey with her son JD and thinks nap time is better than Manolos.

>Pop over to Storked! to read Christine’s interview of yours truly.