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My Boyfriend

mssinglemama — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 04:39:19 +0000

Just when I thought I had mastered all of the awkward single mom phrases, learning to say things like “ex-husband” or “visitation” without flinching, another term comes my way – boyfriend.

Single mom or not, I have never been a fan of the word. Boyfriend just seems so juvenile, to call a boy your friend who is clearly much more than that. But saying it when your child is running around right next to you gives the word an entirely new feeling.Last week a neighbor’s dog wandered into our yard to play with Murphy. When her owner popped over to take her back we were chatting about dog stuff. I told her Murphy was my boyfriend’s dog while Benjamin’s head bobbed between their furry little bodies. I could almost see the thoughts running behind her eyes. Yes, I suppose saying, “my boyfriend” is another way of saying, “I am a single mom.” But why then does saying “I am a single mom” seem so much more acceptable than saying “I am a single mom and I have a boyfriend”?

To us everything feels so natural. John Bear hasn’t flinched over my single motherhood since the very beginning. When we’re at weddings or parties meeting strangers and a Benjamin story comes to his mind, he’s the first to say, “Alaina has a son.” Even though I’ve had boyfriends before this is the first who feels like so much more than a just a boyfriend, maybe that’s why the word feel so unnatural.

I can’t begin to answer any of the questions I’m raising here as this is entirely new territory for me but I can tell you I will continue to proudly brag about my adorable sweet man to anyone who will listen, because single mom or not – I’ve never been one to censor myself for fear of judgment. And, besides, anyone who would judge this isn’t anyone I’d ever want to meet. I am a single mom and I have a boyfriend. And next to my son, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

[P.S. This is a picture of John Bear and I after our fashion makeovers at Dr. Mojoe for Ford Fiesta Movement, Mission 3. Stay tuned for the awesome video - coming soon to a blog near you.]

The Biker

mssinglemama — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 03:29:38 +0000

He was my first post-divorce boyfriend and the first man to get me onto a Harley…

___________

It took him months to convince me to do it. I’m not sure which scared me more – him or the Harley

“C’mon, do you think I’d ever let anything happen to you? And you’re gonna love it!”

He saw something in me that I couldn’t see. And every time he looked at me, I felt alive again.

We met on my mother’s gravel road. Just weeks beforehand Benjamin and I had been in my posh little urban neighborhood. Now we were completely alone in the woods. Even the sounds were quiet. Wild birds, big zipping bugs and occasionally an animal walking through the forest.

We had come this way before, but this time we heard voices. Seconds later a pack of dogs leaped out of the bushes and ran straight toward the stroller. And then I heard his voice, “HEY! Get back! NOW!”

The dogs came to a stop, my 7-month-old’s head was in tact and standing in front of us was a man who looked like he could have squished any of my city boys into a tin can.

He had camoflauge pants on, a red bandana and his brown and blond beard hit right above his belly. So not my type.

“Sorry,” he said as he pulled the dogs back into his yard. I could see a camp fire through the brush and around it sat three older, greying men. I glanced at the drive way. Three bikes parked by the garage.

Bikers. Real bikers. Wow. When he invited us to stop by any time I noticed his eyes – light crystal blue, soft and strong.

Soon we were coming by at least three or four nights a week. I needed to escape my mom’s house and the Biker needed some company. Each night we would linger, both unsure about how to ask each other out. The ink wasn’t dry on my divorce yet and he had been living alone in the woods for years. But despite his self-imposed isolation, a woman had found him. And he wanted me. Or maybe he just wanted me permanently affixed to his bike or in his kitchen, serving him and loving him forever and ever. I couldn’t really tell.

Three months later, I finally agreed to jump on the back of his Harley for our first date. I sprinted up the hill like a giddy teenager. I could hear his engine reving up and just seconds later there he was.

I stood still staring at him, not sure what to do. He smiled and then started laughing.

“What are you waiting for? I’m not going to bite.”

I climbed on the back. And then he just took off. I shrieked a little and then grabbed him tight. We rode past my mother’s house and then over the ridge.

“Look! Look at the sunset!” He screamed over the bike’s roar. I had already noticed it. The clouds were a deep pink and read against a bright blue sky. I lost my breath. Went it came back, I nestled my cheek against his back and inhaled his scent – musky, like the woods that surrounded us. He was free and finally, so was I.

In that moment this city girl fell in love with dirty bikers.

[Photo: A picture of a sunset on the same road a few nights later]

My birthday confessional.

My “man person” is up to something in the kitchen…

mssinglemama — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 04:40:05 +0000

Kris is painting the top of my kitchen table right now. I’m not looking…he’s saying something about polka dots. I’m a little bit scared…but he wants to paint it – and I don’t! Works out quite nicely.

The table recently turned into a doodle table. Meaning anyone was welcome to doodle on the top. Leave their mark. Some signed their names (lame) others professed their love for each other. Like Abby and her Ex. But I had to cross it out. In hopes of making her feel better I wrote a profanity …. as you can see … to replace it. Thought it would make her feel better. But now my table looks like crap and I’m having people over tomorrow night. So…Kris offered to paint it. I’m writing, he’s painting. It’s cute. I don’t want to intrude or break his creativity….I’ll post the final result tomorrow. Polka dots? Breath. Breath. It’s just a kitchen table.

P.S. Manperson is my new word for boyfriend. I hate the term boyfriend. Don’t you? Manperson is much more appropriate.

Shacking up…with another single parent.

Boyfriend + toddler + work = tired single mama

mssinglemama — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 01:48:38 +0000

I love my adorable toddler and I love my adorable boyfriend…oh, and I love my amazing job. I love them all so much I just don’t want to sleep as much as I should. Life is too good but my life is also incredibly tiring. What’s a single mom to do? Say no to the boyfriend. Nope. That’s not going to happen. After all good lovin’ is one of my favorite things in life. Can’t pass that up.

How about the toddler – could tell him to chill out with a good book so mommy can take a nap. Nope. And the job – well, can’t quit that. Does anyone have any energy tips? I feel like I’ve been tired forever. Doesn’t help that my son is now waking up at 6:00 a.m. instead of 7:00 a.m. Hmmm….any suggestions? I don’t like energy drinks and like most other single, working moms working out is not an option. I have cut back on my cleaning. Letting that go has been easy…the place is still nice and orderly but I used to clean, really clean, every single night. Now I’m way behind.

I’ve got to go clean…sorry for another short, short entry. I think the above explains why. Please feel free to browse my site for more in depth blog entries that may keep you entertained until this single mama catches up on her sleep. Which won’t be tonight because – yep – boyfriend is coming over.