Single Mom | Single Mom Blog | Ms. Single Mama » romance

Breakfast in bed.

mssinglemama — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 03:19:31 +0000

My father loved bringing my mother breakfast in bed.

He would also clean the dishes after dinner – every single night, even when he cooked. When he’d come home from work he’d seek her out, “Where is my beautiful wife?”

“Upstairs Dad,” we’d sigh. When he found her he’d scoop her up into a sweet hug and tell her how much he loved her. All six of us, my siblings and I, would groan even more when they kissed in front of us, “stop it!! Gross! Mom and Dad are kissing!”

In the evenings, as we drifted off to sleep, we’d hear laughter pouring up the stairs or quiet voices as they talked and talked and talked. About the house, life, us, the future. The morning he died, after they’d been married for 30 years, I woke up my mother to tell her. “It happened Mom, he’s dead.” His cancer had surfaced six months earlier. Three brain tumors. It spread quickly. He’d been asleep for days when he slipped away.

“I know,” she said.

“How?”

“He was just in my dream, he said good-bye. Why am I still here? I was supposed to go with him.” Her eyes were glazed over. Part of her had left with him.

No more surprise flowers by her bedside, no more lingering hugs and no more soul mate. That fear of ever losing someone like she did had me frozen for years. But after having Benjamin, after becoming a mother, I’ve realized my father wouldn’t want me to be filled with fear on his account. My mother doesn’t either. And she by the way, nearly 10 years after his death, is in love again herself.

We have to go on. We have to keep those we’ve lost alive by living for them, by carrying on and by telling their stories.

—–

They met on a train in 1967 (I think).

He saw her and couldn’t move. His eyes met hers. She smiled and then darted them away. Then he walked up to the empty seat next to her and said,”Can I sit here?”

“No.” My mother answered shortly.

She was dead serious, so sick of men hitting on her. My father, undeterred, took the seat across from her instead. He asked her what she was reading. My mother told him it was none of his business. You get the idea. But, by the end of the train ride from Columbus to Chicago he had convinced her to give him a chance.

I’m giving Mr. Man a chance.

I still can’t find the words to write about him but I can tell you the ice is melting… slowly. And besides, my mother thinks he is amazing – he reminds her of my father. And, deep down, I’m a huge sucker for romance and of course, men who treat women like queens.

In my opinion, they’re the only ones worth having around.

[Photo: My mom and dad shortly after their wedding]

Oh, those married people…

Denmark, Part 2

mssinglemama — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 03:08:45 +0000

I wasn’t expecting an extremely romantic vacation that would rock my world.

I was expecting a vacation filled with many long days of shopping and sight seeing followed by long nights of dancing, drinking and sorted drunken debauchery.

If romance happened, it would happen…

We saw castles. We saw canons. We took a ferry into Sweden. And we even sipped on beers at the edge of a beautiful canal in the middle of Copenhagen but in the end the sparks did not fly. The chemistry (without Benjamin in the mix perhaps?) was gone.

It was a bit awkward – but what could we do? Force an issue? Try to create something that wasn’t there? Instead we both spent Sunday apart. Me at the spa and him at the golf course.

I have amazing photos to share but WordPress is being mean…

And don’t worry your pretty little heads about me – I’m quite peachy. Just trying to figure out how exactly to confess something to you all…

Oh me, oh my. The sparks are flying.

mssinglemama — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 02:03:56 +0000

Remember what crush butterflies feel like?

Sparking all over the place, in the flesh or online – in your head, in your heart or in your throat. They’re palpable and you feel as if you could reach down into your soul and touch them. But what happens when those sparks are one sided? Or when someone feels sparks for two people at the same time?

Lately I can’t seem to get this idea of sparks out of my head. What are they? And how can you tell if you’re both feeling them?

My case in point.

Last weekend Benjamin and I found a Brio train table, complete with the tracks and the trains at a garage sale. The price? $75.00. I had to buy it. But how would I move it? I looked at my tiny Ford Focus, my tiny and grumpy little man and then at the two nice guys at the sale. Bingo.

“I’ll take it if you can deliver it. I just live right around the corner.”

They were more than happy to help and during the moving process one of them was being particularly attentive. He had blond hair, big blue eyes, a fantastic smile and a bare left finger. Before they left he invited Benjamin and I to stop by anytime, “You know where I live!” He seemed interested… but I wasn’t.

Which led me to wonder, can sparks - true sparks – be one sided? And if they are, can a one sided spark spark another spark?

I was curious. So five days later Benjamin and I popped by his place on one of our afternoon walks. He showed us the house he had renovated solo, asked tons of questions about Benjamin and about being a single mom. I also found out that he’s a very successful architect. But, alas, no spark.

I left with his number in my hand and no desire to call him.

Two days later I met one of you – one of my readers! Julie is a single mom who has a breath-takingly beautiful 17-month-old daughter, Zoe. When we met the sparks were flying everywhere. We talked and talked and talked while the kids played. And then it hit me – Julie and the architect! They would be perfect …

I briefed her on the situation, told her I had no spark but that he might have one for me … but she, like me, is a big girl with a strong head on her shoulders and she completely understood, “I get it. It’s the spark thing. You never know.” So we set out to find out if the sparks would fly between the two of them.

When we showed up at his house for drinks the architect was immediately drawn to Julie. In fact, he was so zoned in on her that I felt like I had to make myself scarce. “You guys cool if I run and get take and bake?”

“Yes!” They both chimed.

For the rest of the night when I would try to talk he actually stopped me and said, “Wait, Julie, what were you saying?” So I just sat there and twiddled my thumbs careful not to interrupt. As soon as we left, Julie and I immediately started assesing the sparks.

“So, did you feel one?” I asked her.

“Yes! Definitely, but did he have one? I couldn’t tell.” She had a point – what if he was just being incredibly sweet and courteous, because he’s like that – maybe he’s just a nice guy. There’s one truth about sparks, you can’t see them.

“Well,” I said, “There’s only one way to find out. Ask him.”

So she did. Tonight Julie called the Architect and asked him out on a date. Yep. She did it. And I’m SO proud of her. His answer – he had a very, very busy weekend filled with mundane things he had to do but that Sunday might work out and that he’d call her this weekend to firm it up. So now we wait to see if the sparks were mutual.

And even if he never calls, which I highly doubt, at least there’s a solid spark between Julie and I – the friendship spark – the best one of them all.

Other posts you might like:

Go pick up a man, I dare you!

Will he call? On asking men out – flat out.

Single Mom Dating Tips, Part 1

Single mom dating tips, Part 2

[Photo Credit: Kate Winslet in Romance & Cigarrettes]

My prince sent me a castle.

mssinglemama — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 22:05:27 +0000

Thomas has been sending me little clues on the places we’ll be visiting during my trip to Denmark… like this one:

A castle. Couldn’t resist passing it on. I’m so excited!

Man wanted.

mssinglemama — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 20:49:00 +0000

If I were to write a personals ad here’s what it would say.

Dear Man.

I like you. I really do. I’m just trying to figure out why I need you. So if you want me (and I’m quite a catch) you’ll have to prove your worth.

In order for me to deem you valuable you must be able to:

1. Cook

2. Clean

3. Pamper

4. Love

5. Respect

6. Trust

7. Laugh

8. Intrigue

9. Provide

and…last but not least you must have…

10. A nice ass

Sincerely,

Ms. Single Mama

We’ve got a live one…

mssinglemama — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 01:46:16 +0000

Here we go again.

Another commenter bashing us because we’re happy single parents.

Today’s live wire comment thread comes courtesy of a particularly angry and perhaps bitter stay-at-home mom who calls our families “broken” and also says she would never spend a millisecond away from her children to find someone to get her “jollies off on.” (I didn’t know people still used that term – “jollies.” Ha. Anyway….)

Here is Z’s first comment in reaction to my post on why I love being a single mom.

“Why it is “great” to be a single mom:

1. I get to parent the way I want to parent
(Except for when the kids are visiting their father, then you have absolutely NO say or control on how they are being parented, and the kids get to jump house to house, “visiting” their parents. As oppose to stay married to your baby’s daddy, where you will have much more control over what they are exposed to and how they are raised.)
2. I get to focus 100% of my attention on my son
(Really? If I wasn’t married I would be working full-time so for five days a week my kids would be raised, again by someone other than me, and then when I want me time instead of quality time with their dad they are getting farmed out. I would say as a single mom the kids get way less time with parents because there is one person to maintain and run the whole household instead of two people.)
3. And the best part, I’m completely free and there’s always the chance that some day I will meet my Prince Charming.
(Free?! Except for you have kids. And Prince Charming -when are you going to have time to do that with out sacrificing time for you kids and as you are working on finding Prince Charming what about all the duds you expose your children too? That’s really not focusing 100% of your attention to your children now is it?)
Maybe women should be more selective in who they have sex with? If he wouldn’t make a good husband or father, why risk procreation with the guy?”You may

Sigh. Really. Gee, thanks. Guess I shouldn’t have been having sex with my husband. Read the rest of the comment thread here … and don’t miss the extra spicy comment from QT Mama.

A closing thought from the book Positive Discipline for Single Parents:

“You may have believed that children living with single parents are automatically deprived, but it simply isn’t so. Many happy, successful people have been raised by single parents – even in orphanages. It is no the circumstances of life but how we perceive those circumstances that has the greatest impact. Each person decides whether challenges will be stumbling blocks or stepping stones to joy and success in life….NO HOME – AND NO FAMILY – is broken unless the people in it allow it to be.”

[Photo credit: Angry Housewife]

Does romance really exist?

mssinglemama — Fri, 08 Feb 2008 18:15:05 +0000

As Valentine’s Day approaches it’s got me thinking about romance and the idea of romance. When it comes to romance – the ball is usually in the man’s court, because society tells us it should be. But personally, I can count on my hands the number of men who have actually done anything “romantic” for me. Somewhere along the line I just stopped expecting flowers, chocolates or sweet nothings – leaving those fantasies of romantic gestures behind with my youthful optimism. But when you’re a woman it’s not easy to lower your expectations. And should we? Or should we just take a look at our definition of romance?

Here’s the problem – every woman has a daydream tucked away deep inside. The dream of a man whisking us off of our feet. And even when we eject it from our conscious thought – it’s still there, lingering – buried deep down. This idea of the knight in shining armor has been ingrained in our heads from day one, thanks to endless stories and movies about Prince Charming rescuing the Princess. And then as we entered our teenage years it just got worse…movies and TV shows made romance seem like an every day occurrence. [Sixteen Candles, Say Anything, Princess Bride, etc.].

Here’s the problem – men really aren’t programmed for romance. By nature they’re supposed to be out hunting for food and coming back at night to bed us. So the forces of nature are working against them. Somewhere along the way (between the cave man days and present day) this idea of romance emerged and poisoned our brains with these ideas of passionate, earth-shaking love. Thanks a lot Shakespeare. But these stories and fairy tales had to have their origin in something – in some kind of palpable romance.

I grew up in a house where real romance did exist. Every day my father would come home from work and immediately seek out my mother…why? So he could see her – kiss her – say hello to her. He was in love with her from the moment he met her until the day he died, 8 years ago. A week wouldn’t go by without my father bringing flowers home to my mother, buying her chocolate. And a day never went by without the two of them cuddling on the couch and just enjoying each other’s company.

And you wonder why I have high standards? I know…I’m cursed. But I like to think that I saw real romance. As real as it can get. My parents weren’t perfect. They were real people with real flaws. I also realize that what I witnessed was the result of years and years of work between the two of them (before I came along) to create their perfect marriage. And my mother often reminds me that “it wasn’t easy.”

So here’s my definition of romance.

Romance is being in love. Romance is holding each other tight during a thunderstorm. Romance is smelling each other’s skin…not wanting to let go. Romance is making each other laugh. Romance is holding a child’s hand. Romance is cuddling in bed with a good book. Romance is lighting candles. Romance is taking a bubble bath. Romance is passion. Romance is a midnight walk in an old city. Romance is a rushing river, fall leaves and spring flowers. Romance is a mother’s love for her child.

Single or not – romance is all around us, every day. Men? I hope you’re listening. And single mamas…a knight would be lucky to have you…but don’t wait around for him.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Good guys do exist.

Just when I thought I was safe…

mssinglemama — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 03:09:23 +0000

Six weeks ago I had reached a point of complete contentment with being single.

Over the past year and a half I have been looking, searching for someone. There was a pattern. I liked a guy. We hit it off. I scared him off. My friends told me, “You’re calling him too much.”

“What? I have a child. Do I really have to play these dating games anymore?”

“Great,” I said, “Then I’ll get rid of him quickly. If he doesn’t want a phone call from me, why would I want to be with him?” It was like a reflex, something inside of me trying to protect our little life from being broken.

“There are rules,” my friends would say. Rules? Oh, yeah. Those damn rules. I used to play by the rules. I used to be a dating diva, often dating more than one guy at once. It was my independence that attracted them. But after being married for two years and a mother for nearly two years I have completely lost my edge. It just can’t happen.

I can’t see myself ever returning to those days of care free dating.

So, what’s a single mom to do? Forget about it. And that’s what I did. I decided not to date a guy who makes me feel like I have to play by the rules. No more games. They are either completely into me or they aren’t. And I have to be completely into them because this single thing is actually pretty damn cool.

I was at a coffee shop, enjoying my new found indifference when fate took over.

My phone rang. It was an old friend and she desperately needed a ride out to a bar in the suburbs. A place where I never venture past dark. I hate the suburbs, especially bars in the suburbs.

I can’t say no – she’s desperate.We get there and I find out she’s meeting two completely drunk men in their late 50′s. Not my bag. I head outside for a cigarette.

I’m still enjoying my own company, not striking up conversations with any of the men around me – completely content. And then a guy sits down at my table. He starts up a conversation. I’m witty, I’m funny, I’m happy because I just don’t care. And then his friend walks in, “This is Kris,” he says.

Oh no. Oh God, he’s cute, really cute. He’s wearing a vintage suit, he is tall, thick dark brown hair, big green eyes. I couldn’t have dreamt up a better guy for me – just based on looks. I still didn’t care. But I wanted to find out – is he intelligent, is he funny? I can’t go back inside and talk to the old creepy men.

So I test the waters with some witty comments a guy for me would understand. He sits up in his chair.

“We’ve got a smart one here,” his buddy says to him. He nods. His eyes are light now, his smile is huge and he’s actually excited… so am I. Damn it.

From this point on it’s all over. We were laughing and talking all night. Before I left the bar I got his number, called his phone so he had mine and invited them out for Friday night. When we left, Kris grabbed me in a big hug. A hug that was so incredibly refreshing. He’s young, he’s innocent, he doesn’t have any baggage. He just wants to be with me. There were no rules in that hug.

That night I had a dream – about him.

We were kissing, we were together. What??? I had a dream about a man? This never happens. I was married for two years and had only a few dreams about my own husband. I woke up and decided to text him. That dream was an incredible tease.

“Thanks for the hug.”

He wrote back, “No problem, you’re a sweetie and very hugable. I’ve got class until 8:00 – after that I’ll be feeling like calling you.” He called at 8:15. No stress. Completely adorable and now it’s been three weeks. We talk on the phone at least two times day, we see each other two nights a week. I don’t feel myself losing control because this time around I am gauging this relationship against my content single frame of mind.

Note to self – you can not be happy with someone else, unless you are completely happy with yourself.

Getting there is the tough part.

**UPDATE**

To find out what happened with Kris, click here.