single mom first date

Phew. Just saying that makes me nervous.

Single mom or not, first dates can be pressure cookers.

first-date When I was 12-years-old I rode my bike to my first date… my first date — ever. I had spent the entire week fantasizing about what it would be like, wondering if he would try to kiss me or tell me he wanted to take me to a party.

Funny how little I’ve changed.

It’s a girl thing, I suppose. We just want some kind of magical moment. Usually all it takes to create one of these moments is a dash of physical chemistry, a splash of attentive listening, and then a long gaze with a soft smile and an assertive phrase like, “I’d love to see you again” or “I’m so happy I met you.”

That usually gets us.

Oh, and always walk us to our door but do not invite yourself in. For the guys, here’s an article from AskMen.com on Successful First Dates, read the part about the difference between assertiveness and aggression.

That very first date of mine ended with a giddy bike ride home. In my mind our putt putt golf session had been amazing. I can’t even think of why. Maybe because he smiled at me a few times and actually stayed to play. I was a dork by the way. A huge dork.

He never called and because he went to a different school – the reason I got the date in the first place – I never saw him again. My next real date wouldn’t come until I was 15 and living in an entirely different state. [No pity for the dork thing please - it was good for me, gave me some back bone at an early age].

So back to Tuesday’s date … now as a woman and a single mom, dates are still just as simple but the inner dork of mine is incredibly freaked out. [click to continue…]

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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. [click to continue…]

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