“Are we still in Ohio?” Benjamin calls from the back seat.

“Yes, we’re still in Ohio but we’re not in Columbus anymore. We’re almost to Athens. Your Daddy will be there, at the gas station in just a few minutes.”

During our bi-weekly hand-offs I try to mask any emotion other than, of course, pure Mommy delight. I never want Benjamin to feel any guilt for loving his father as much as his mother, for wanting each of us just as badly. We’re meeting at a gas station because even though Benjamin can tell me exactly how to get to his father’s house, deep in the back hills of Athens County, I know I’d get lost on the way back out.

Benjamin sees his Dad before I do and starts howling from the back seat, “Daddy! Daddy!” Their bond is solid now, far beyond anything I could ever control.

I am driving Benjamin down because his father can’t drive up to pick him up anymore, for reasons I can’t get into here – but keeping them apart is no longer an option. So, I bite my lip. I smile, exchange a few nicities. I hand over his bags. I hug my son so tight he screams at me to “let go”. After I do I stand up, walk to my car and drive away. That five minutes feels like fifteen and the only thing that makes it all right is seeing Benjamin’s smiling face from the back seat of his father’s car, with a wave and then a few kisses he blows my way.

I have an absolutely astonishing, bright and happy boy and his father is a part of that equation. It’s taken us a while to get here, but now I can’t imagine a world for Benjamin without his father there.

—–

A few hours later John Bear and I are sipping margaritas on the patio of our favorite Mexican place. He always manages to talk me into a dinner out, even though we should be saving every cent. The little luxuries though, these are what we work for, he says. And it works. Like a charm. We compliment each other in this way. I bring him far enough into my frugal zone and he pulls me out of it just enough.

This tug and pull translates into just about every aspect of our lives. I’m hotheaded, he’s cool. He tires easily, I can never relax. We always end up somewhere in the middle.

“I miss Benjamin already,” I say. He’ll be at his Dad’s for another week this time because school is out again.

“I understand,” he says.

“No you don’t! You love it when he’s gone,” I tease.

“Alright fine, maybe I do enjoy it a little.” Admissions come easily from John. Another thing I love about him – his honesty, almost as raw as mine but not nearly as abrasive. I raise my eyebrow at this and say, “I knew it!”

“Well, come on. It’s not like we get much alone time.”

“True, this is true.”

A few minutes later a couple led by a screaming toddler walks past our patio table. Twenty minutes earlier they had walked in, bright and happy – ready to bravely attempt a family date night, in a crowded restaurant.

John shakes his head in sympathy as the father picks up the boy who is now screaming even louder.

“I used to look at that before differently, now I’m just like ‘Been there, done that.’”

And then, without hesitation, John Bear uttered a phrase I used to tell him, “People without kids just don’t get it.”

I lower my eyes and start sipping my margarita, trying to hide the astonishment on my face. The way he said that, so casually. These are the little things that still manage take me aback. Because they amount to one big, giant, colossal thing – John has completely embraced Benjamin and I, tantrums and all. We are becoming a blended family.

—–

A few minutes after we finish our margaritas we get a phone call that the Cement Marketing offices were on fire. No serious damage. Unless, of course, you’re this door.

Or this window

And now, I know exactly what John Bear will be like when driving me to the hospital when/if I’m ever in labor again.

Me: “Don’t go so fast. You’re going to kill someone.”

John: “I’m trying to get us there as fast as I can and I’m not going to kill anyone.”

Me: “Watch out for that old lady. That poor old lady. She wasn’t doing anything wrong!”

John: “You need to calm down.”

Me: “Do you want a piece of gum?”

John: “No! I do not want a piece of gum.”

Me: “Geez. What’s wrong?”

John: “Nothing. Nothing. I’m just trying to drive. What? Are you laughing? Seriously? Dude, this is serious.”

Me: “I know, but you’re so funny right now. Look at you, you’re driving like a maniac.”

We got there a few minutes later and waited for about twenty minutes before getting confirmation that our front office room, the room with all of our equipment – and, most importantly, my external hard drive with Benjamin’s baby pictures were unscathed. The fire started out on the roof and creeped into the entryway and our entry window, but aside from that no serious damage inside of our office.

Related posts:

1. The Rabbit Hole
2. Single moms are on fire.
3. O’ Daddy, Where Art Thou?

I was beaming with pride last night. I bought Benjamin his first Thomas train set for his birthday. After I spent 30 minutes setting the track up perfectly to fit his little bedroom play table, he spent an hour choo chooing the trains around.

This morning (like every Monday) his father came to pick him up. I called this afternoon to see how they were doing.

“Oh, we’re great!” Ex says, “he’s playing with Thomas right now and watching an Elmo movie.”

“What?,” I press, “He’s playing with his new Thomas track? At your house? You took the entire set with you?”

“Yeah, is that a problem?”

Sigh. Now I have to set it up again so it fits on the table. And what if the pieces get lost? And…well, should there really be such major toy transfers for a 24 hour sleep over at Dad’s? And isn’t that kind of like cheating? Taking the toys I got for him … knowing full well that had he missed them for 24 hours he would have come home all excited and been occupied for hours.

Help! Need advice from other single parents on this one. I guess when Benjamin is older this could be an issue. Explaining to him that – no – you can’t pack up an entire car worth of toys to go to daddy’s. Or, should I let him? Really clueless on this one.

Related posts:

1. Elmo Death Threat. Freaky toys unite and Fisher Price sucks.
2. BabyPlays.com – Toy Rentals? Would you do it?
3. Turkeys, babies and men…oh my!

After nearly two years my son’s father has taken him for his 36 hours of visitation. (Usually he watches him at my place) Right now there’s a pit in my stomach. Not of fear. I know he will take care of him…he is after all a good father and he does love his son more than anything. It’s something else. This just isn’t natural. Sharing a child with an ex spouse. I’m a child sharing rookie, this being my first time with him out of my sight for over 24 hours.

My mix of emotions are as follows:

• Wow…I have 36 hours to myself, I’m not working so that means just play…and it’s New Years Eve!
• Where is he going? I don’t even know. I’ve never met my ex’s girlfriend. I’ve never seen their house. I’m just a little bit uncomfortable with this, but I do trust my ex.
• Will he be okay without me? Yes. It might be hard around bedtime but he’ll have a fun day. He’s a happy, independent kid.
• Will I be okay without him? Will I be able to have fun tonight? Or will I be worried sick?

I imagine since so many parents in this country have shared custody of their child that it does get easier….but what about the children? Do they ever really adjust to this? I don’t think people ever get married and have babies with the intention of splitting. I know I didn’t. It was a whirlwind, green card wedding but we were in love. I thought with every inch of my body that it would be forever. But my dream came crashing down around me when I realized that we were completely incompatible.

Well…I’ll keep you posted. I’m going to spend the day out and about with my best friend shopping. Then the evening out at a cocktail party and then dancing with my amazing boyfriend. This won’t be that bad…and Benjamin will get a serious dose of daddy time which has been well over due.

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