Last weekend I was on a kid-free journey to North Carolina to visit that man of mine.  Have I told you guys how amazing he is?  Oh yeah, I did.  Moving along… remember a few weeks ago I had some trouble with the SUV?  Well, it started feeling like it was going to rattle apart on the interstate.  I texted the man, “It’s doing the weird thing again.”

Immediately he called me.  (He doesn’t text.  I know-I’m not sure how it’s possible either.)  “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope.  It’s doing that weird shaking thing again,” I explained.

“Are you on the same stretch of interstate you were on the last time it did that?” he asked. 

I tried to not be annoyed.  “It’s not the road, sweetheart.”

He thought for a moment and so did I, taking his lead in trying to draw similarities between each incident of my car behaving badly.  “I have been going about the same speed each time,” I remembered out loud.

“How fast?” he asked.

“Around ninety,” I answered.

Silence.

And then yelling. 

“Ninety!?!”

“Hey, hey, hey!  You’re sooo not one to talk!”

“You’re not supposed to do ninety in an Xterra.  No wonder it feels like it’s going to fall apart!  The wheels are only balanced to 85 mph!” he explained LOUDLY.

“Well, why does my speedometer go up to 120 mph if it can’t go 90?” I asked.

“You can’t go 90 because the speed limit is 70!”

I thought for a second. “What if we lived in Germany?”

I could see him frowning through the phone at my logic.  “Babe, if we lived in Germany I’d buy you a damn sports car.  Please slow the hell down!”

“OK!”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“eL.,” he scolded.

“OK, OK!  I’ll slow down.”

I wanted to get there so that I could be with him and I almost shook the world out from under myself in trying to do so.  The irony in this story almost overwhelms me.  I progress in relationships in the same way that I drive… TOO DAMN FAST.

We’ve all been guilty of it (or so I tell myself in order to sleep better).  It’s so easy to get caught up in the initial whirlwind of a relationship and over commit ourselves too quickly.   There’s a fine line between love and lust that gets really blurry in the honeymoon phase of a new romance.  Everything is new.  Everything is exciting.  Everything is better than it has ever been before!  Then before you know it, you’re in “lurrve” and making plans.  Sometimes those plans turn out OK and sometimes you find yourself shaking, naked on the bathroom floor at 3AM asking yourself, “How the hell did I wind up here?” 

We’ve all heard about that couple who met and married in six weeks and lived sixty glorious years together, but they are not the norm.  Reality is that when the road to happily ever after is navigated at 90 mph the ride is rough and incredibly dangerous.  People get hurt; hearts get broken.  I know because, more than once, it has been my foot on the pedal. 

Forever is a really, really long time.

Why the rush?

Slow the hell down!

Excuse me?

Granted, just by the sight of this poor girl, it is OBVIOUS that she has severe self-worth problems and for that reason alone did I shove my devil horns back down and tuck in my tail. Not surprisingly, her mouth isn’t the only one that has spouted off similar statements to me in the past couple of months. Even Messaging-Turrets guy told me I’d be better off to go find some divorcee who already has a couple of kids!

Let’s be clear about one thing before I go any further. I believe in the institution of the family, that husbands should love their wives, wives should love their husbands and together they should love and raise their children. By God’s great design this is the way it should be in a perfect world. However, if you think we are living in a perfect world I need to get on whatever meds you are taking. The fact is that bad things happen. Divorce happens. Death happens. Innocent children are often left with only one parent holding the responsibility for their upbringing and while it’s not FAIR, it’s reality. Since when has reality ever been fair?

Mom & Dad have been married for nearly 44 years!

Now that you understand how I feel about how life SHOULD be, I want it to be known that I refuse to “daddy shop” for my children. My husband was simply an irreplaceable father. He loved our children more than his career, more than his hobbies and much more than he loved himself. He left incredibly big shoes to fill. I believe that God saw it long before we all did that his time on earth with us would be cut short. I also believe that God prepared us accordingly. Both of my children have wonderful grandfathers and several very close male father-type figures in their lives and for that I am truly grateful.

I want to tread lightly on this subject because I do not want to come off as sounding judgmental. I know firsthand how difficult it is to be a single mom and how there are just days where you feel absolutely cheated because you don’t have their father to share the load with. If you don’t think I have those days, go read Free To A Good Home and get back to me. I often wonder what’s worse though: A kid with one fully devoted and loving parent or a kid with two parents that are too distracted by working on staying together to be able to give the child the attention it needs and deserves. Kinda sounds retarded when you put it like that, doesn’t it?

And what REALLY infuriates me is the mindset that some people have that single mothers are just going to have to settle for what they can get. BS

It will be a long time before I find myself committed again. I know how hard marriage is even when it’s good and I have no rush to go back to that anytime soon. I do know this; if I ever choose to be married again it will not be because I need a savior, a “baby daddy” or someone to take pity on this poor single mom. It will be because that man simply rocks my face off and I can’t imagine MY life without him. If I ever do find that man, it won’t matter that I have kids. The pieces will fall into place.

On a final note I do have to acknowledge some really admirable people out there. Being a step-parent or an adoptive-parent is an enormous responsibility and I have NOTHING BUT RESPECT for anyone that chooses to love someone else’s child as their own. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that I love my kids and they are my own! LOL. (If you’re judging me right now, you don’t have kids.) If you are a step/adoptive parent reading this, I take my hat off to you. Thank you for being selfless enough to make a difference in a child’s life.

When I met my husband, I don’t think I’d ever sent or received a text message. I didn’t have a MySpace account and I’d never heard of Facebook (because that was when it was just for cool college kids). I met Robert the old fashioned way. He was a friend of a friend and a super-nice guy. He asked for my phone number, properly asked me out on a date (several times before I agreed) and less than a year later we were married. It was simple. It was uncomplicated. It was normal.

Well, I’m learning that “normal” in the realm of dating was redefined sometime during my stint as a housewife. I remember a day not too long ago, when people who did the online dating thing were stereotyped as desperate, poor, lonely souls that didn’t have the ability to maintain a social life. Little did I know THEY WERE TRENDSETTERS! I discovered this the day that I first changed my MySpace relationship status to “Single.” I received my first email from Messaging-Turrets guy.

“Hey, I think you’re cute. How come you are single?”

His picture was adorable. His name was, Devon. He was a little young for me, but he had a sweet smile and what does a little email really mean in the grand scheme of things? It’s harmless right? Heh, heh, heh… you already know where this story is going, don’t you?

We sent a few messages back and forth. He seemed really kind, easy to talk to, mildly intriguing and being cute never hurt anyone. He asked if I text messaged and sent me his phone number. So now, emailing had progressed into texting. We sent our less-than-160 character messages back and forth for a couple of days and then he asked to meet me in person. I passed on the invitation and Devon started to change. Keep in mind, we’d been chatting for days and he HAD BEEN an incredibly, seemingly-normal person. And this is how Messaging-Turrets guy earned his nickname.

Devon: I’m going to be in your area today… can you come hook up with me? (This is NEVER a good thing to hear – or read – from someone you meet online, unless you are truly willing to umm… “hook up” in the Biblical sense.)

Me: Umm… no. Are you kidding?

Devon: Why would I be kidding? You’re hot, I thought you’d be down.

Me: I’m so NOT down.

Devon: Well, I guess I’m just barking up the wrong tree.

Me: I guess so.

Devon: That’s fine with me tho. I don’t date chicks with kids. You should go find some divorced man that already has a couple.

Me:

Devon: I’m not wasting my time on you anymore.

Holy text messaging Batman! Had I just been “played” and “dissed” over a satellite connection? Devon was immediately blocked from visiting me on MySpace and deleted from my phonebook to remove any temptation that I had to reach through the phone and high-five his face! The next day I receive another text message.

Devon: You blocked me. Why? I’m sorry.

I didn’t respond. So he tried to call. I ignored him.

Me: You were nice and then you were an ass. What’s wrong with you? Is it a mental condition?

Devon: I’m sorry, I promise I won’t be an ass anymore.

Me:

Devon: Please still be my friend.

Me: No.

Every other day for 2 weeks I got simple texts from him. “Hey.” “Can we still talk?” “I said I was sorry.” Too bad my Treo doesn’t have a “block user” button. Finally on Sunday I hope (and think) he got the message.

Devon: Hey, it’s Devon. Remember me? Can we talk?

Me: Yes, Devon. I remember you. I have you filed under “Douche Bag” in my phonebook. I’m not wasting my time on you anymore.

I haven’t heard from Messaging-Turrets guy since but the week isn’t out yet! Anyone wanna place a bet??? Lol

More stories to come….