by mssinglemama on February 21, 2010
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. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on December 28, 2009
We’ve been down to Athens. Up to Cleveland. Back to Columbus. And now Benjamin and I are prepping to take off for Chicago. Then after Chicago it’s back to Cleveland for a wedding on New Year’s Eve.
I should be doing something cool like leaving a bread crumb trail across Ohio and the Midwest, but instead I’m just taking a lot of pictures. Like this one of Mom’s new house.
And a few from inside
See more here.
—-
John and I survived our first holidays together, but not without some growing pains.
Our relationship is moving into another territory. I go back and forth between being completely freaked out by the idea of commitment to completely embracing of whatever the future brings. We were talking about it one night, about 2010 and what comes next when I felt completely cold, frozen in fear.
The fear is of myself, of my own misjudgment in the past. The fear that I’ll change my mind or wake up one day wanting something else. I’m sure these are all defense mechinisms, finely tuned beyond the point of recognition – protecting me from truly feeling and experiencing love.
I was washing the dishes and wishing I could be one of the plates. Clean now. Ready for another meal. Completely unaware of what happened in the past. Then John said, “I know I’m a big, hairy Irish guy but come on? I’m not that bad, am I?”
No, baby, I thought as I hugged him – you’re not that bad at all, you’re absolutely perfect.
It’s me.
Marriage and the thought of marriage sends chills down my spine. I’ve been there before and it was a nightmare. And even though John and my ex couldn’t be more different, they have one thing in common – me. And I am not a plate.
But the more milestones we survive, the more he surprises me with his ability to calm me down, to walk me back from that cliff I become convinced that he may just be the best damn dishwasher I’ve ever met.
by mssinglemama on November 2, 2009
My little sister wrote this unbelievable story.
The main character, a young woman who has been mauled by a crazed dog feels as if the ugliness inside of her is now on the outside for everyone (namely the men she dates) to see. The short story is actually published, for real, in a for real publication – the Indiana Review.
I highly recommend you find a copy.
That story is a mish-mash of she and I’s dating lives during our early 20’s. Choosing the wrong men, dumping the right ones – all for the wrong reasons. But then facing those scars, bringing them out into the open and wanting to hide so desperately that it hurts. But you can’t hide when someone loves you like this because he’s not going anywhere, no matter how hard you try to scare him away.
When you’ve shown a man that side of yourself and he’s still around, and still smiling at you like this
it’s enough to make any girl consider throwing in that single towel.
by mssinglemama on September 30, 2009
When I first started dating John Bear his dog drove me crazy.
Every time I would come over Murphy would jump on me, scratching my bare legs with his thick doggy claws and if he wasn’t jumping he was panting and staring at me, all the while emitting a subtle doggy smell. When I put two and two together and realized that John let Murphy sleep up in his bed with him I freaked out, “Gross! That’s just so disgusting.”
“Why? He’s just a dog. He doesn’t even shed and he’s hypo allergenic.”
“Hypo allergenic? A dog can be hypo allergenic? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“He’s not that bad, you just have to get used to him. I promise. And you would never let a dog sleep in the bed with you?”
“No,” I snapped, “Never ever.”
That was five months ago. Now Murphy spends every single day at my place while John goes into his office. The little white fur ball follows me everywhere and we even cuddle – on couches, on beds, anywhere we can. Benjamin adores Murphy. The two wrestle, chase each other and even play hide and seek. I just can’t imagine our life without that damn dog and I am completely smitten.
One day we were sitting outside of the coffee shop and a few older ladies walked by (they always love Murphy).
“How long have you had him?” they asked. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on September 13, 2009
“Are those poop bags in your pockets again?” I see the top of a bright blue plastic bag sticking out of his shorts.
“I always come prepared,” he says. Always is right. John Bear is seldom without a poop bag or two sticking out of his cargo short pockets. I’m always telling him to stick them back in while teasing him profusely for being such a dork. “Stop laughing,” he adds, “one day I’ll have our kid’s diapers stuffed in here.”
Gulp.
Visions of three more years of diapers are flashing through my mind and I give him one of my looks.
“What? No? Is that a bad thing?” He asks.
“No,” I relax my eyebrows and smile, “It’s fine. Really fine actually.”
My thoughts don’t even venture where they typically would with the typical men of my past. Instead they stay safely seated in the upright position, ready and willing to believe that happiness does not necessarily have an expiration date.
But that doesn’t mean there won’t be a ton of shit to clean up along the way.
—-
We went to a Browns game this weekend for Fiesta Movement Mission #5. Pictures will be posted as soon as I get some sleep and just a little bit of time.
xoxo
