Okay a couple of things, first I am in this weird situation that I got myself into right? I just moved 842 miles to get out of two very difficult situations, yet here I am wishing I could run away again. I’m here to tell you it is far easier to get away from a boyfriend than it is to get away from your kids and your OWN thinking.
I want to BE single. In my mind that means that I can go out, hang out – maybe in a night club. I can meet new people, there might even be an interesting man around. I could have a conversation with people my age. I envisioned this whole scenario – the only reason that I included my daughter (Johanna Jr) is because she is a bartender in an upscale restaurant. Perfect place, I could be safe (because she is near) and I could relax with like minded people in their fifties (my age), who might also be single, like me.
Okay so my daughters conversed and my Jo Jr, who is the mother of an infant son, decided she would like the baby (Jaxsun) to come to see her so that she could introduce the baby to her friends at work. Then my son (Travis) got involved because he cares for the baby. So my daughters made a plan to bring husband, infant and brother with ME, mother to dinner. So, here I am trying to be single… And, I have an entourage.
I had it all planned out: last month I bought myself size 10 slacks and a new shirt that is styled for evening wear. For the last six years, all of my clothing allowance has gone to work clothes and I really don’t have much that looks good just for the sake of looking good. What can I say? I’m a practical woman.
So there I am in my evening attire (not too fancy) and Travis, my son, wants to go with me and bring Jaxsun, with my daughter (Rhea), with her husband (Rick). Okay, let’s have a family evening, at least I can get out of the house and feel pretty. I’m even going to drink a beer. So we go. The baby is awesome, he sleeps, my daughter Jo Jr, gives great service, the food is sumptious, well prepared and delicious.
Good going, then Jo Jr sends her “friend”, the man she is dating, to our table, so that he can introduce himself to me. Her friend also works at the restaurant. Back up a minute, my daughter Rhea, is also pregnant. Okay, so when my daughter is pregnant there is a pervasive thinking that lingers in the back of my mind. This pervasive thinking goes something like this: “is she comfortable?” “is she eating right, does she feel okay, is she getting enough to eat?” Okay – so that is the background noise. We are enjoying this beautiful meal and Rhea does not have enough sauce for her fish and Johanna Jr’s friend comes to the table. He is the epitome of charm and grace, he takes my hand, introduces himself and smiles and he really does impress me. He then asks how the meal is, rushing through my head is this pervasive thinking: my daughter is pregnant and then this other thought, she’s not happy, she doesn’t have enough sauce for her fish! So I say to Jo Jr’s friend, “will you please get some sauce for my daughter, she doesn’t have enough for her fish.”
Jo Jr’s friend is the epitome of professionalism and rushes off to get the sauce. WELL, apparently I should not have abused him in such a way. My kids say he came “to hang out with us.” My kids say I’m “throwing his job in his face.” In a few minutes Johanna comes rushing over and wants to know what I said to him. Again, Jo Jr’s friend continues to be the epitome of professionalism and promptly delivers the sauce and I am happy because my pregnant daughter is happy.
It dawns on me that I spend far too much time worrying about and thinking about my kids. They rule my world. I cannot escape from me,and I am the one who puts them in the center of my universe. Not only did I not get a night out, but I also committed a faux pas because I cannot take my mind off of the comfort of my pregnant daughter. I must figure out a way to have me be different. So, after two months of sitting at home alone, I finally had a night out, but not as the new single me. In fact it’s 8:30 pm, and I am at home in bed. I looked beautiful, but I am still concerned with something other than me. I really need to get concerned with me, how else will I find a he?