Within just a few weeks of dating, John Bear had bought Benjamin a Transformer, saying “I couldn’t help it. I hope it’s okay. I just can’t believe he doesn’t have one.”

And why would he? I’m a chick (in case you hadn’t noticed) and now that Benjamin is becoming a boy I’m realizing I don’t have a clue about boy stuff. His father is French Canadian and aside from the Smurfs, I don’t think we watched the same cartoons. In fact, I’m fairly certain his dad didn’t watch any cartoons at all, which had nothing to do with his Quebecness and almost everything to do with his mother.

Nervous Benjamin’s head would explode at actually receiving a gift from a man, I made John Bear keep the new Transformer and its accompanying DVD hidden in his car for another few weeks. I would move the little gift bag into the back seat on date night, leaving it there and wondering just what to do with the thing. The only solution would be to just give it to him and find out. Sometimes parenting is a big ball of trial and error, the only thing you can hope for is that the errors don’t permanently mess up your kid and that, as John Bear’s father says “they come to your funeral.”

After I thought Benjamin could handle the spoilage I let John give him the present. When he opened it Benjamin squealed and then laughed hysterically when the thing transformed into a robot and he has yet to let the car out of his sight.

It goes everywhere with him, constantly in the cusp of his little hand. He’s learned how to do everything, even ride his bike, one handed to account for the car. Benjamin’s Transformer collection doubled last weekend when John Bear (who Benjamin now believes is the master of the robot universe) pulled these guys out of his mother’s basement. Two new freaky little robot guys to bring home.

Our new roommates, now I think there are six or so, have crushed Thomas the Tank and even Elmo. Even Woody and Buzz Lightyear haven’t moved. And I’ve become all too aware of the fact that apparently I’m not the only one who has been lacking a man’s attention and affection.

We had just woken up when I took that picture, so to be fair to John here’s a picture he took of me drinking out of a doggy mug.

“Ha. You’re drinking out of a doggy mug.”

“Yes. I am. I am drinking out of a mug with dogs on it, now buzz off silly man and let me finish my coffee.” Now you all know what I look like at the crack of dawn with a doggy mug shoved in my face. I was giving my e-mail a once over after neglecting my virtual world for most of the 4th of July weekend. After doggy coffee and Transformer play time we went to breakfast with John’s parents, who have been completely understanding of my reluctance to bring Benjamin too close, too soon.

John had invited us up to his uncle Marc’s 4th of July cookout weeks in advance but I just couldn’t make up my mind. I went back and forth and then finally decided that morning that we should just go. I was hesitating out of worry, again of the what the unkown would bring. The biggest one being, would spending an entire weekend with John and his family confuse the hell out of Benjamin and in turn, send me into freak out mode. But on that beautiful Saturday morning Benjamin had just finished up his pancakes and me the laundry when I realized my decision was being made out of fear. I called John, “have you left yet?”

“Nope.”

“Can we come?”

“Of course! I’ll be over in an hour.”

Then we were off to his awesome uncle Marc’s cookout and later to his parents house where we spent the night. And guess what? It was ridiculously fun. And guess what else? All of the fears that have come to fruition in past relationships have yet to surface. John is incredibly understanding of my wounded bird syndrome and he’s not going anywhere. With that said, I have some work to do so I can keep my freak outs, my fits of fear that turn into short-tempered anger, at a minimum.

After breakfast with his parents we headed to Lake Erie, which up until then I had envisioned as a giant dirty version of Lake Michigan. Clearly I was mistaken.

I didn’t bring a suit and then I got upset. Like a little kid I had to swim. So I took off in John’s car while he watched Benjamin trying to hunt down a swim suit shop but I couldn’t find one. Instead I returned with sunscreen for Benjamin and John, some water and a big frown.

“There are some mesh shorts in my trunk,” said John.

Ten minutes later I was in the water in his mesh shorts and my tank top marveling at how amazing a good man makes you feel, especially when he always seems to have just what you need. What we both need.

The road ahead is looking pretty darn good my friends.

[And I'm also happy to report that my fears that John Bear drove like an old man were put to rest when I used his Focus to pick up the sunscreen. I've been driving Fiesta Dave for so long that I forget what it's like to drive normal cars with no pep.]

Related posts:

1. Unexpected reality
2. The weekend
3. Smooth Operator