by mssinglemama on July 22, 2009
Every guy I’ve dated since becoming a single mom has told me, “you need to relax” or “you never relax” My reaction has been the same each time. I stand there and kind of stare at them while scratching my head and then try my like hell not to ask them what the fuck chill out means. But after the third or fourth guy gave me the “chill out” line I realized that perhaps they had a point.
When I was in high school and college my form of chilling out included downing six Hornsbys and then maybe doing a keg stand or two. I don’t drink nearly as often anymore, maybe once every two weeks. And parties, what parties? Are you kidding me? Unfortunately I was not trained by my mother, who is constantly stressed out herself, in the fine art of chilling out, taking a load off, resting one’s feet up in the air and just reading or staring at the wall. Taking a break or chilling out was not in my household vocabulary as a child. That sucked. But not to worry, I am very aware of this fact and so is my therapist. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on June 1, 2009
Larry is in his seventies but his eyes are young.
He had a major hand in creating the Hocking Valley Scenic Railway, a thriving tourist destination for Athens County and his energy seems to be endless. He’ll never acknowledge his age with words or by his actions and I find this amazing and inspiring.
We’ve just wrapped up a meeting and now we’re saying our good byes in the doorway to the Athens County Visitors Bureau. The Bureau is my refuge and my savior. My home town, I feel, is cradling me – rocking me back to health and in turn I am enlightening thousands of tourists to pay us a visit.
Larry is lingering.
“So have you found a nice guy yet?” he asks.
Every time I meet a WWII vet like Larry I immediately conjure up images of men like Gregory Peck and Spencer Tracy on battle lines or at fancy dinner tables puffing on cigarettes, he is no exception.
“No, not yet. There aren’t any around or something, or maybe I just don’t know where to look or maybe I’m not ready,” my voice cracks a bit.
The tears have been coming easily lately.
It’s been nine months of single motherhood and I have yet to see a glimmer of hope, even though I’ve been dating not one man has shown promise of being something.
I want to hear words of wisdom from Larry, so I stop, look down at my shuffling feet and then I listen. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on November 6, 2008
Christine Coppa of Glamour.com’s Storked! recently finished her memoir on becoming a single mother and the title? Rattled! Very appropriate, don’t you think?
Order your advanced copy here.
Like me, Christine, was 26 when she found out she was pregnant. Three months later her boyfriend made it clear he didn’t want to be a part of their lives.
I hope you enjoy these interviews.
>Pop over to Storked! to read Christine’s interview of yours truly.
MSM: After JD’s father left you have said you were bitter, but have since let that go. What helped you forgive and move on?
Christine: There’s no point to live life bitter. Life, mine in particular, is beautiful. I have a healthy, happy, thriving child, an awesome career and loving family and friends. I’ve been through a lot in my twenty-seven years (things I examine in my book, Rattled!) and those experiences have aged me far beyond 27. I know what’s important. Spending time being pissed off–not important. Feeding ducks with your toddler–important.
MSM: Your new book, Rattled! is set for release in April. Why do you think every single mother should own a copy? Don’t be modest, I want you to brag because I’m just in awe that you managed to write it in the first place and I personally can’t wait to get my hands on it.
Christine: I don’t know how I wrote it either. I can’t believe it’s done and that JD is 14-months old wearing size 24-months clothes. It’s pretty rad to have done this. For one thing, Rattled! doesn’t glorify being a single mother. My book is a lot darker and more raw than my Storked! readers are used to. I spare no one–especially myself. Going through my pregnancy alone, wearing a belly under my sweater and not a ring on my finger was a huge, life-changing experience. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on October 27, 2008
The grocery store.
Forget the skyrocketing grocery prices that make me clench my jaw and actually tighten my grip on the shopping cart handle- the grocery store is my enemy anyway. It’s the ultimate test of my will and my skills as a single mother. It’s such an odd place too. All of these people, all needing the same thing, something we would die without.
Usually any mention of the store invokes a barrage of protests from Benjamin. Poor kid. He always has to go. No dad to stay home with. But tonight, after 2.8 years of going to the store together, something amazing happened.
“We have to go to the store, Benjamin – to get food!” I always say it enthusiastically, trying to get him excited. The total mommy fake out covers up the dread. But my kid can read me like a book and he usually never buys the act. Usually.
Tonight instead of throwing a preliminary grocery store tantrum I heard, “Okay Mommy, let go to tha stouh fo food.”
So on we went – Mommy with the highest hopes and Benjamin with a smile on his face that seemed to good to be true. When he got situated behind the wheel of his car shopping cart we took off into the produce section.
“Drive Benjamin! Drive!”
“Okay Mommy! I’m driving! Look!”
The cart was massive, if you even want to call it a cart. And so loud – thundering through every aisle, torturing anyone within 20 feet. Every time we use it, I am sure people can hear us from at least four aisles away. But I never give a damn because I am trying to survive – to get out of the grocery store alive, with my sanity in tact. Tonight, in spite of my son’s smiling face, is no exception.
So while I cheer Benjamin on, making him believe he’s really steering the cart I am simultaneously grabbing whatever I can, as quickly as I can. I feel like one of those contestants on that shopping game show from the 80’s.
We make it as far as the tomatoes when he jumps out.
The first time Benjamin broke free from me in a grocery store he was 6-months-old. As soon as his feet hit the ground he started running down the aisle while screaming some kind of Braveheart freedom cry. He didn’t touch a single thing on the shelves he just ran and ran. I had to let him do it – to deny him that kind of pleasure would have been wrong.
But tonight my little baby had morphed into little boy and he was jumping out of the cart, not out of a thirst for freedom, but just to piss me off. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on October 27, 2008
Benjamin and I went to a dude ranch this weekend.
We started out together.
Then Benjamin demanded to ride by himself. He won over the ranch hand with his powerful persuasion tactics and took the reins.
And here he is, fleeing from me… knowing I was about to haul his butt into the car to head back to the city.
We spent the entire weekend out at Grandma’s… I saw my new dude as well.
He’s convinced – beyond all reason, perhaps – that we are destined for each other. I try to talk him off of the ledge, telling him it’s impossible for us to know anything yet but he’s not budging. He’s there and I’m still here – kind of confused. Trying to identify my emotions like some kind of scientist. [click to continue…]
