FINALLY

This is what I tried to post a few weeks ago, but due to the miracle that is Apple Computers, could not. So here we go now. This is the story/character study/whatever you'd like to call it in its purest unadulterated form....aka the original. I have editted it some since, but I'm not sure the edits (except those of a grammatical nature) will actually stick. Its funny to think that I'm the same age as the girl I wrote about now....



Do not try to date normally if you’re a single mom. I swear it’s just not worth it. Sitcoms are too true on this subject and it’s sad. Sitcoms shouldn’t be right about anything. I mean yeah it was great when Michelle got her memory back after falling off that horse, and that’s all she lost to begin with, but you can’t tell me that you didn’t want to see the Olsen twins trampled by a horse. I mean that’s life. Its raw, it’s real. Bad things happen as often as good things, people don’t always make up, things aren’t always all better on next weeks episode, drug problems don’t disappear just because people say “hey, pills are bad” and yes, even Uncle Jessie has a bad hair day!
I digress though. It’s just a bad idea to date when you have a kid. People just tend to judge you solely based upon the fact that you have a child. There are pretty much 4 sitcom clichés that I’ve found most men conform to. They are, in order of the number of times I’ve seen them on TV: The Single Dad, The Track Star, Pity daters and the CSAG (Creepy Sex Assumption Guy).
The track star is the guy you most often meet. He’s just an average Joe who’s just looking for some fun that could possibly get serious somewhere down the road. They wanna get laid, but its not top priority. What they don’t want is any extra baggage, and they boot down the street upon seeing extra baggage come out in the form of wallet sized photographs. That’s where the name track star comes from. Some have reached speeds that are near record breaking. These aren’t bad guys. They just want to have their fun before settling down and raising a family. They don’t even stop to think maybe that’s what the woman across the table is looking for as well, besides the tiny wrinkle of a fact that she’s already raising a family. And any amazing attributes she had before the kid came up vanish in thin air. The fact that this woman has a babysitter running up her phone bill with calls to her boyfriend in Singapore waiting for her at home is like a boulder dropping down from the sky, crushing any signs of beauty, and all wit and charm, and intelligence she may have into dust. They’re decent guys, but in my opinion, they lack character, and were probably lucky to get the date from the start.
Creepy sex assumption guy, Due to variations, that’s the best way to categorize this group of men. They assume because you have a child that you A.) Have had a whole lot of sex (because I guess it’s impossible to get pregnant the first time….) thus making you “easy” and B.) That you’re exceedingly good in bed (because not only do you have the experience, but hey, some guy was repeatedly fucking you). The most common variety of these men are those that get excited upon hearing you have a kid, because that means that their sex-deprived selves will finally get some if they ask you out. How could you refuse their beer belly poking out of their grease and sweat stained shirt, the stubble spattered unevenly across their face, and the stench that they exude? I mean, you are of course a sex addict.
The second, less common variation that I’ve come in contact (I’m sure theirs more of them) are religious nuts. Now I’m all for religion and what not, but I hate those people that try to force there’s upon you, and judge you for it, especially when they’re Christian. It’s like they have their own personally bible where instead of saying “May he without sin throw the first stone” or whatever, Jesus says “10 bucks to the guy that hits that slut on the nose!” I’ve had one experience with a guy like that that almost turned me off of religion forever.
The date was going well. He was nice; he pulled my chair out for me, and had brought me a rose. We start talking about the decline of family values, and of course, I make the mistake of saying, “My daughter”. He got a look on his face as if I had just made a reference to God masturbating or something, and launches into this huge rant about how this is exactly what has talking about. I think at one point he actually used a word like “jezebelian”. I, very calmly, about ten minutes (or at least what felt like ten minutes) into his rant, reached into my pocketbook, and pulled out a small box. I opened the box to reveal an exquisite diamond ring. I turned it towards him, and yelled out as loudly as I could, turning all eyes onto us,
“Do you see this ring?”
He quietly nodded, thrown aback by my yell.
“This is my LATE husband’s grandmother’s ring. He was my high school sweetheart and we got married at 18. I lost my virginity on my wedding night, and lost my husband a year later fighting for his country. My daughter was not conceived on prom night, or amidst a one nightstand. As far as I’m concerned you’re a judgmental prick and you’re probably gonna rot in hell, no matter how many Sunday masses you attend.”
Since one cliché deserves another, I tossed my wine in his face to end it all, and walked out. I walked all the way home in fact to find my baby sitter still on the phone with this guy from Singapore, shocked to see me home so early, and assuring me she’d only been on the phone a minute and that her boyfriend had recently moved to Chicago, so the charges wouldn’t be quite so high. When she left, I got a call from the judgmental prick I’d just left. He said he’d be trying to call me all night but kept getting a busy signal. He then apologized and asked if there was any way I’d ever consider going out with him again, and I said not until hell froze over. He then quoted me some verse or something and I hung up in his face. It was just a pity question anyways. Once he heard about Annie, and he realized his assumptions were wrong, he became a track star. Most do.
I suppose that brings me to the pity daters. There are a lot of these I guess, and I suppose they have some potential, but really, who wants a relationship based upon pity? They ask you out, knowing about the other cliché types. These are nice guys that want you to have a good time, and to be able to go out on the town and get away from the kids for a few hours. In some ways, that shows they care, but you also have to realize that it’s possible you’re someone they wouldn’t date in other circumstances, so while the potential is there for something further it’s lost when a guy who is completely incompatible with you just tries to be nice.
This leads to the single dads. Many pity daters turn into single dads. These are the guys, regardless of whether they have kids themselves or not get excited about the fact that you have a child because it’s a ready made family right there for them. A lot of pity daters turn into this (like Eric Matthews in that episode of boy meets world). They want to go on dates to chuck e cheese, and the park. Oh and then there’s the guys that end up taking the kids out and leaving you home. Or the guys that decide, lets have a night on the town, and leave the kids with his sister, who does not run up a huge phone bill. These guys are nice every once in a while. The phone bill goes down since there’s little need for a baby sitter, they get to know the kids and give you some much needed time to yourself. But they tend to care less about you, and what you have to offer, beyond the kid at home sleeping in the crib. Like, who you are is unimportant. And also, I don’t like to date single dads that really are single dads because I myself am a bit of a track star. Unless he’s really great, I don’t really want that added responsibility. It’s unfair, but I do understand it.
So dating for me is very complicated. I mean, not all men conform to these sorts of stereotypes, but most do, and almost all I’ve met are either a type, or a hybrid of a couple of them. It’s really frustrating. On top of that is deciding when to bring up Annie. I mean, if he’s a track star, and I really like him, do I wait, and hope that he gets close enough to me that he doesn’t care? Or do I let him know right off the bat, so I don’t get emotionally attached? With CSAGs, do I hide it from them? Or do I tell them outright too because I don’t want to be with someone who will judge me because of that. Pity daters know to begin with. That’s what defines their group. And the same goes for single dads. It’s just a mess and I never know what to do. None of them are really bad guys (aside from maybe a few of the CSAGs, but hey desire to mate is primal). They’re just human. And I don’t blame them for how they are, but it makes things a whole lot harder on me. I think I’m a pretty nice, interesting, funny, and at least good looking girl. You’d think at least one out of the probably hundred guys I’ve dated would see past the crib.
But it’s not that simple. I knew when Dan died that it was the death of my future with him as well. I knew we’d never watch Annie take her first step together, or start school. I knew we’d never have other kids. And I knew that there would be no winters spent by the fire, looking through old photo albums and sipping hot chocolate when we were in our fifties. I came to terms with that. I didn’t come to terms that it might be the death of my future with anyone, or that it was the death of me. No one looks at me as a woman anymore. I’m a mom. I lost any trace of a personality I once had and am now judged solely by the fact that my five year old exists. I just can’t date normally anymore. Maybe I don’t need to date. And maybe it’s okay that she defines me. I just wish I could see there being more to my life in the not-so-distant future. But oh well. I suppose I only have 18 years of being mom, mommy and ma, and I’ve already got five down. Maybe in 13 years, I can be me again.