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. Benjamin’s father is of the French Canadian stock and I don’t know what’s up with our northern brothers in Quebec but aside from the Smurfs, I’m not sure we watched the same cartoons. In fact, I’m not sure his dad watched any cartoons or even had any mainstream toys at all but that had nothing to do with his Quebecness and almost everything to do with his mother who kept her kids from such things.

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 this parenting thing 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 that “they come to your funeral.”

After I thought Benjamin could handle the spoilage and not associate John Bear forever more with cool robots 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. He’s learned how to do everything one handed to account for the car in the other hand and I have to transform him two or three times a day. 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.]

]]> http://mssinglemama.com/2009/07/13/new-roommate/feed/ http://mssinglemama.com/2009/07/13/new-roommate/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/mssinglemama/RlZZ/~3/O2LkRy1WBak/ http://mssinglemama.com/2009/07/11/dogs-or-muppets/#comments Sat, 11 Jul 2009 14:27:18 +0000 mssinglemama http://mssinglemama.com/?p=3940 Take a look at this one.

Even down to his fuzzy little tail, he’s got muppet written all over him. And just when I thought I’d never see a dog that looked more like a muppet this one showed up.

Meet Fergis, Murphy’s new coffee shop buddy.

After their brief stare down, it was on.

If they were cats one of their eyeballs would have been scratched out but instead they tackled each other in a doggy death match and then they stopped and started sniffing each other.

“Dogs make friends faster than people do, that’s all,” said Fergis’ wise owner. I think it’s also because Fergis and Murphy recognized each other from a day long ago when they were both rocking it out on the piano.

Dogs or muppets? Are dogs really muppets? Or are muppets really dogs? And if muppets are dogs than what are cats?

—-

All is well.

Working on a top secret project that should be done by late next week. It’s why I’ve been so scant via e-mail, on Twitter, on the Single Moms Forum and here on the blog. My apologies. But I know you’ll all understand when you see what it is.

xoxo

Alaina

We would be getting married in her back yard in just a few days. I was frantically planning the wedding so we could beat an INS deadline to kick him out of the country.

“So, do you have that feeling?” she asked. “You know how people say ‘when you know, you know.’ Do you have it?”

“No, I don’t. It’s not there. Is that bad?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine. You know you want to be with him, right?”

“Yeah. And that’s crazy anyway? It’s all a risk, a leap of faith, how can you just know?”

I was 25-years-old and I was really good at talking myself into things.

After we took our vows we were standing in a dark corner of my aunt’s gorgeous yard, the laughter of my friends and family echoing, me in my wedding dress and him wearing one of my father’s old suits.

It had been a last minute adjustment. My mom had hated his rental tux so she found one of dad’s suits for him to wear. I clung to that for the two years we were together, thinking that it was a sign from my father that we should be together.

But here in the darkness I looked at my new husband and suddenly felt like I’d just jumped off of a cliff with him.

“Well, this is it. We’re in this together now.”

I expected him to hold me tight and tell me how wonderful it would be, something to that effect but we both stood there shuffling our feet not quite sure what to say or do. And it was then that I knew something was off, very off.

Given the struggles I’ve overcome since that day, I can’t help but lay the cards of my past next to those of my future and try to compare then and now. But this time when I see the two side by side there is nothing to compare.

This time I know. I am not looking for signs because I don’t need them.

“Have you ever loved anyone as much as you love him,” my little sister asked. My touchstone for just about everything, Anna and I are only one year apart but she’s way ahead of me in the love department, having met her husband years ago.

“No, not like this before,” I answered.

“Woah.” She paused and then, “Now, don’t all of those old relationships seem like a huge waste of time?”

“Yeah but I’m still glad I had them. I knew that if he ever came the rest would have just been entertaining me along the way.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. You never really liked any of those guys anyway.”

Nope. I didn’t. Not like this one. Not even close.

Your comments to my Dark Side post have been so insightful and humbling.

Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. Seriously. I couldn’t have asked for better advice. I’m taking it all in and your words will always be echoing in my mind, helping me see how wonderful this relationship thing can be, especially if you’ve found the right person.

[Photos: See pictures from last night's Clippers baseball game in Huntington Park, aka this week's date night.]

Even though shrouded in a veil of uncertainty and expected to trust the same people who drove this ship into these troubled waters, we keep going.

For us mothers it’s easy. We go on because we have this land’s youngest in our care, watching and studying our lead so they in turn can live through our example. Having no other choice than to trust them, our only hope is that the leaders of the free world care about them as much as we do. If not, than we’ll be here to catch them - to carry them through whatever may come.

This weekend millions of us took our little ones to a spot of land we’d be sharing for an evening

All in one moment we were unified, by the sky, the beauty of our cities - wherever they may be.

Then to the sound of the fire works cracking, booming and echoing into every last corner.

But despite all of this, the only country our children know is the one in our laps, in our arms or wherever they can find a warm, safe place to snuggle in.

And us mamas are just fine with that.

See more photos from our weekend here.

P.S.

This special lap moment was made possible by Avitae water. They let us into their VIP party to see the Columbus fireworks and they also gave us a few samples of their drink, a naturally caffeinated water  - good stuff, and I’m incredibly weird about my water and my caffeine.

Also special thanks to Capital City Mama, pictured above carrying her sweet daughter and to John Bear for carrying Benjamin because he’s now too heavy for me on long walks... so weird how big he is getting.

To refresh your memory, Murphy is John Bear’s dog, who happens to be white (Benjamin has been requesting a white dog for months and months). Since then the two have met and I’ve even been watching Murphy during the days while John Bear works. And guess what?

This cat person has fallen for a dog - big time.

I went from completely unable to picture a dog in my life to craving his presence. He’s my little buddy, our little buddy - with his fuzzy paws and even his stinky, drool breath.

In our spare time Murphy and I like to cuddle, go for long walks on the beach and dance…

Murphy’s Dancing Contest

To enter: Tell me who the cutest dude in the video is with a comment and you’ll be entered to win one of five new copies of Michael Buble’s Meet Me in Madison Square Garden CD/DVD pack. It’s coming out soon - watch this awesome YouTube video for a trailer.

Deadline: Friday, July 10th

Congratulations to Abby Carter who won the reusable drinking bottle from Baying Hound. If any of you didn’t win and want one please check out their site. Your purchase will support a local business (a mom with a sweet young one) and one of my advertisers.

Love actually hurts me.

The feeling of feeling (again) raises some kind of pain up inside of me that I can’t shake. And then I start lashing out, sabotaging my relationships, wishing away these butterflies for fear that they will turn into gray, evil moths.

Then I say things I don’t mean.

I hear them coming out of my mouth and I suddenly want to take them back. Rather than learning how to control this it seems to get worse as I age, as I become more cynical, as I become more accustomed to being single and as relationships seem more foreign, more complex and distant than ever.

I can blame that or pms or this awful, awful stress headache I can’t seem to shake but the words are still out there now - in the air, on his mind. I am just hoping he can forgive me or at the very least learn to recognize that like any animal, I may not be wounded anymore but the scars are still there.

The things I have experienced, are fortunately, like nothing he’s ever even had to taste and every once in a while they are right there, fresh again. On top of the deep scarring and baggage I’m hauling around there’s also the pressure.

There are always so many emotions I’m balancing while also trying to make sure everyone in the room walks out of it with warm fuzzy happy family feelings. It can be tiring as hell.

Sometimes I just want to be a bitch and moan and groan until the cows come home. But I can’t. I am the head of my household. I am the person my son’s world revolves around and now I am the one who holds a man’s heart in my hands, one I am so grateful to have, as he holds mine.

The balancing act must be maintained. If not, if I do lose my temper or snap and say something rash, the person on the receiving end is most likely someone who does not deserve to hear it.

So one question.

How do married moms do it? Please, enlighten me.

Because Mrs. Cleaver I am definitely not. Did you take some kind of mind numbing medicine? Or is there some special yoga pose I need to learn?

Perhaps this is why I run away from feeling because being single is easier for me. I don’t want to raise these skeletons from the dead and I’ve never liked cleaning out empty, dark basement corners.

But this time I am going in but I’ll bring a flash light, maybe you guys can hold it and show me the way.

He’s worth it.

And besides, what fun would life be if I didn’t scare myself every once in a while?

Absolutely we can.

Friendships are about a connection or a common bond - at least that’s how mine have all begun. With that said as a single mom I’ve found it harder to make new married mom friends. Maybe it’s just because we don’t swim in the same circles or maybe it’s because it’s hard to meet moms period.

Read this answer posted by Kelli on my single moms forum when I asked, “can single moms really be friends with married moms?”:

I think it’s hard to meet and form friendships with any type of Mom, whether married or single! I don’t know what it is, but I try and try and it is difficult!

We’re all just so busy. I think that’s one of the main reasons my tight circle of friends is now almost entirely made up of single moms. They’re as flexible as I am and very spontaneous. And we can sit around and talk about dating for hours which is huge.

With that said I’ve already met one of John Bear’s friends who happens to be one half of a couple and I love her to death. She lives in Yellow Springs, Ohio but I’m already so excited to hang out with she and her husband again. I just loved them. And his sister and brother-in-law too - adored them.

For me, this is huge and I actually feel more of a need now, than ever before, to surround myself with married couples who are happy. Now I need to learn a new set of lessons.

I think that as we change as individuals our friendships stand to change. There are the deeper friendships that last a lifetime, fortunately I have quite a few of those, and there are those of mutual benefit.

My friendship with Mia is one of both. After I write this I’m going to dig through my closet so she has some work pants to wear today and last week when I had bronchitis she drove Benjamin to school every morning. She is like a sister to me. We have been friends since we were five. And now we are both single moms.

Her recent singleness has actually given our friendship a new life. No longer do I have to bite my tongue about her ex and now she has half as much free time to hang out with Benjamin and I. I’m not quite sure what my world would be like without Mia and we’ve been friends and will continue to be friend through whatever life throws at us but now that we’re both single moms we are talking more and seeing each other more.

So when I posed this question to the Momversation panel what I really wanted to know was, aside from those lifelong friendships, after you become a single mom or a married mom are you more inclined to befriend solo or coupled moms?

Watch this awesome discussion on Momversation to find out what they had to say:

And please check out the rest of the comments to the discussion on my single moms forum or leave a new comment here.

The universe of Benjamin, where he must - by now - have realized that he’s kind of cute.

He’s also learning how to play the adults in his life like a fiddle.

With just one pout of those puffy little lips, or one convincing, “newdea” - translation, “new idea” - he can enrapture you with his seemingly true tales of life as a three-year-old.

Somewhere along the road he used this little face to convince his mommy that “daddy said it was okay to pee pee in his diaper” and vice versa. He’s been pinning us both as “diaper push overs” and we’ve both been buying it for weeks.

This next photo, below, this is a photo of his victory smile. It’s the sly little crook of his mouth he whips out after he’s pulled a Don Corleone on your ass.

So if you run into this little man on the street and he starts telling you a tale that has anything to do with ice cream or Transformers and that story involves you or someone you know

whatever you do

do not be distracted by those eyes and that adorable little nose, or his pip squeaking Elmo-esque voice

because this guy has your number (and he knows it).

P.S. Any potty training tips would be appreciated. He’s going #1 just fine but just can’t make the jump to #2. And man, oh man, is this mommy fed up. I’ve tried bribing.  Big bribes. This week John Bear even bought him a Bumble Bee transformer but so far he won’t take the bait.

Check out more pictures from this weekend in my Recently photo album.

—-

It’s been hot out (a contest).

Very hot. The nice, awesome folks at Baying Hound (a locally owned business here in Columbus) gave Benjamin and I some stainless steel drinking bottles so we can drink to our hearts content wherever we may go. I picked Pink Love.

Now it’s your turn.

Pop over to their site and surf through all of their beautiful reusable bottles, then come back here and leave a comment telling me which bottle you would like and if I draw your name - Baying Hound will send you that very bottle.

Good luck! Contest ends on Friday, July 3rd.

I’m forcing myself to take it easy, to breath deeper, to relax.

Until I can write more - keep up by taking a peak at my new round of photos.

Yes, we would. I’m sure of it and I can see their little faces smiling at me  already. They’re definitely cute as hell.

I also have this vision of John Bear, by then fully trained in the ways of kitchen duty, juggling a baby and a spatula, flipping eggs and yelling at the dog - all at the same time.

A studly dad in the kitchen. These are the daydreams of a single mother.

“And if we do ever have kids you’ll probably have twins,” he lays this out like it’s a perk or something.

“You’re kidding, right?”

He shakes his head, “No, there’s a strong twin gene in my family. I’m next in line.” As he’s listing his relatives who have twins I add another child to my kitchen vision.

Now he’s holding two in one arm with their sweet dark tufts of hair and their bright blue eyes, or maybe one of them will have my dark eyes. And then there’s Benjamin. Maybe he’s setting the table.

And where am I? Probably trying to breath somewhere or frantically shopping for nannies.

Having one was hard enough. But as John Bear says, “You wouldn’t be alone this time and you’d have help, a lot of help.”

He’s childless he has no idea what it’s like - newborns are hard, hard, hard work. But he wants to have his own children, he’s as ready as he’ll ever be. And I do too.

We both want two more so why not knock them both out with one pregnancy?

Could be a nice two for one deal.

Twin talk and pillow talk aside, do you want more kids? I started this discussion in the single moms forum the other day and the responses are really passionate. Leave a comment there or here.

And let me know what you think about the idea of me - having twins. I mean what do you do if the love of your life happens to have a twin gene, a fricking twin gene? Just my luck, right? Oh me, oh my.

Any bearers of twins here who have lived to tell about it?