by mssinglemama on April 19, 2009
On this day four months ago I said good-bye to Mr. Man.
I didn’t look back.
And I never told you all why.
Some of you have told me I am obligated to write about this in detail. Others have speculated on what he may or may not have done.
One of you left a comment on my Mr. Man break up post last week that asks if I was running away from something or looking for an out…
Was I running?
Maybe.
I have never said that single moms come to trust men easily. Mr. Man and I had only been dating for six weeks when it happened. If a promise – to that magnitude – is broken so early on, and if you also happen to be a recovering bad boy addict and have a child, yes – you may “over react” or “run away.”
It happens.
A serious gut check coupled with a dash of fear can spell disaster for any man dating a single mom.
[click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on November 18, 2008
I threw on my gold, slinky dress, slipped on my knee high leather boots and then topped it off with a long black wig which I’d braided earlier. Part of a group Peter Pan costume, I was Tiger Lily.
“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. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on November 7, 2008
I’ve finally found some words, between the haze of my viral infection – here you go… the start to the story of how I met Mr. Man. The story, as you know, is still unfolding.
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. [click to continue…]
