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Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas: Martini Time

Pour yourself a glass of wine, make a martini, and curl up with a plate of Brie and crackers. It’s time for this week’s Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas. These are real-life situations from Internet daters who have asked for help with their profiles or their online dating situation.

As is always the case, the names and identifying details are changed to protect the innocent and, sometimes, the very very guilty. My lawyers said I should tell you that. Check out other Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas here.

Dear Tiia,

In looking at profile pictures on one of the online dating services, I found a guy who seems wonderful from his writing. His picture seems ok too except for one thing. He only has one picture and it’s very, very blurry. It’s hard to even tell what he looks like honestly. It’s not that I’m that concerned about looks, but I don’t know if I should be worried about this.

Signed,

Glenda the Good Witch

Witchy Woman,

Tiia’s Internet Dating Rule #20 says: “Do not, under any circumstances, date anyone without a picture on their profile. It’s better if they have several and highly recommended that they aren’t grainy as if they are really old. People use old pictures all of the time.”

While this guy at least has a picture, which is good, the fact that it is that fuzzy does not bode well. There are only a few reasons for this and they are below:

1. There is some reason he does not want to use a real, updated picture of himself like he is actually a woman or a quadriplegic (both of which either happened to me or to someone I know).
2. He does not own a digital camera or camera phone because he lives in a trailer home in West Virginia where he is currently running an extension cord from his neighbor’s trailer to provide himself with power. He is corresponding with you from the computers at the public library. His mother and father are first cousins.
3. He is a spy for Turkmenistan (I don’t have anything against the Turkmenistanians, but I think they have a funny country name and you should see their national bird) which prevents him from revealing his true identity. He will kill you immediately after engaging in coitus.
4. Or he may simply be embarrassed of his appearance because he wants to make himself appear younger, better looking, or more masculine than he really is.

In all of these cases, well except for the Turkmenistanian, what I never understand is what they think is going to happen when you meet them. Do they think you are going to be so dazzled by their keen intellect and witty repartee that you would completely overlook the fact that they not only lied about a key part of their profile but also misled you into thinking your were meeting a different person altogether?

I recommend that you steer clear of him. It has nowhere to go that is good. Unless you like West Virginia or Turkmenistan.

Tiia

And on that note, I had to include this little funny from a North Carolina (not a West Virginia, lest you think I only make fun of West Virginians) newspaper for you!

Dear Tiia,

How many dating sites do you recommend that I belong to? There are so many out there, and I just don’t know how to pick which ones are the best. There are sites that match your personality, your religion, your sexual preference—even if you’re a vegetarian! For one thing, doing online dating takes a great deal of time and I’m a single mom. How do I know which ones are the best.

Girl Working in a Guy’s World

Dear Brave New Girl in a Brave New World,

You’re right, it’s crazy out there! I recently saw a site for Cougars and also one specifically for Booty Calls. There is also one aimed at people who want to be celibate (I’m guessing they don’t have a lot of takers but whatever).

Anyhoo…here’s what I think. It used to be that the free ones were pretty sucky. That is no longer the case. However, read the reviews and look at how many subscribers there are before you join any site. As you have noticed, there is a great deal of work involved in joining and maintaining an Internet dating site—at least if you are going to do it effectively. And remember, you need to treat this like it is a job hunt process.

You might want to start with just one, a major one, that matches your social and sexual wants. Each has its own “flavor” so you don’t join Adult Friend Finder if you have conservative relationship values but you don’t join EHarmony if you’re like me and you are a little on the more martini drinking side of things. You do your homework before interviewing with a company for a job, so do a little research at the beginning of this process. It will pay off and save you more time for more red wine.

I also have a couple of resource articles that should help:

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2LOOyz/www.myonlinedatingservice.com/

http://community.seattletimes.nwsource.com/archive/?date=20040905&slug=internethorror05

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11699105/

Tiia

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones

Wal Mart Quote courtesy of: http://hiphappy.wordpress.com/2008/05/25/rednecks-over/

Single Mom Meets True Love

Today I’d like to welcome a new Mom blogger friend of mine Tisha Matthews. She is a Behavior Management/Life Coach who is an active member with Mom Bloggers Club. One of the things that we found we had in common was that, as single moms, we were both searching for someone and we both found that we had to look for him a little differently than we originally thought.

Maybe we were getting in our own way. Maybe someone else was getting in the way. Maybe our big, fat, ugly self-images were getting in the way. Maybe we needed to educate ourselves about the craziness that is the male species. Maybe our Christmas Barbie collection or weird Rubik's Cube fascination was getting in the way. Here is her story of how she found true love (and I know, I know, I promise to quit being sappy and go back to my normal sarcastic self very soon--cut me some slack ya big whiners!):

 

Yes it can happen to you!

Every little girl’s dream is to marry their true love, which is the strong brave knight or prince that they see in the Disney princess films. And then I woke up in a nightmare with my son’s father. We were the extreme opposites, but not in a good way. I had a kind and gentle heart and he tried to destroy it. Thank God I only dealt with that devil for a year. I was blessed with a beautiful baby boy from that horrid relationship. During my pregnancy he proposed to me. I said no and moved on with my life as a single mom.

That terrible relationship brought my self-esteem to an all time low. My dreams of meeting my soul mate had been crushed, but deep down inside I did not want to accept that. From the moment my son was born amazing women came into my life that had amazing husbands. The brief moment they were in my life they taught me how to love myself again and that it was still possible to meet my soul mate even with my child.

A few years passed, my son is about three years old. My friend had her first child and about a month later one of her guy friends came over to her house with a gift for her baby. She introduced us. That moment I literally fell into my soul mate’s lap. We became very good friends from that day on. Eventually we developed romantic feelings for each other and began dating; a year later we got into a relationship, which was extremely intense, but we ended the relationship the next year.

I truly believed in my heart that he was my soul mate. He not only treated me like a princess, I felt like we belonged together in my soul. The feeling I have for him is a sense of belonging, like we fit perfectly together, I feel safe with him and I can be myself around him without feeling any insecurities. During the time-out separation I felt like my world came to an end. Thank God for my son! He helped me keep my head above water, also I have to thank my best friend for doing the same.

But the trophy goes to my dad. He also believed that he was the love of my life and that he and I were meant to be together. So my dad decided to prepare me just in case he wanted to come back to me. My dad told me all the secrets about men and what women should and should not do to foster successful relationships. Furthermore; I continued my studies on the opposite sex by reading a lot of books and following the gurus of love.

Three years later my guy came back to me. I did not make it easy for him. About two years into our renewed courtship we got back together and our relationship has been wonderful ever since. By the way, my son loved him the first time he met him. I knew this because he did not throw any toys at him like he did with the other guys who tried to date me! Rule of thumb, your kid knows best (not in all cases) but they do. If they like the guy, he is the one for you.

I have perfected the art of single parent dating! And so can you.

I hope you all like my little life story. If you have any questions on how to attract and keep your soul mate you can contact me at [email protected] and/or you can go to my website: http://tishamatthews.vpweb.com/

The 279th Date

Since it is Friday the 13th and since my magical thinking requires that I give the day the superstitious honor it is due, I’ve decided it is time to share some news. My type of superstition means that I believe in these things—or not—if I feel like it or if it happens to benefit me. So I’m not a paraskevidekatriaphobic: a person afflicted with a morbid, irrational fear of Friday the 13th (Urban Legends About.com).

However, I do think the day sometimes brings out the crazies. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say it makes us do things we wouldn’t normally do on other days.

I recently read how my bloggy buddy Swati Bharteey shared the fantastic news of her engagement here. Then, some new developments in my life happened and created a Friday the 13th karmic soup.

Soooo…I want to tell you about the 279th Date.

It goes something like this.

I dated for eight years and learned more about myself then I ever imagined or dreamed was possible. Over that time, I went on many Internet first dates. Some involved men with snakes in their closets or dungeons in their basements. As happens when you date, I fell in love with a few and contemplated spending the rest of my life with them. However, I still was growing and changing.

I bought a house, got a Master’s Degree, PhD, and went on an odyssey that changed my life. My daughter grew into a beautiful young woman, and we became self-sufficient. I realized that I no longer needed a man to make my life complete. We were happy just the way we were.

The end.

Except that wasn’t the end. After that, I didn’t give up dating, but it just wasn’t necessary. Perhaps because of that, two years later I met a wonderful man.

I had the 279th Internet first date.

It was wonderful, and we fell in love.

The end.

But that’s not the end either. It’s still not easy, is it? Blending families and dealing with emotional difficulties of a teenager is not simple. I’ve been single a long time. So has he. Exes are hard. I’m a teacher-turned-writer who shares half my life with the world.

Perhaps more than that, I was a single, solo mother for more years than I’ve been anything else. It is what I know best and I became good at it. I’m also an expert at online dating, and sometimes I wonder where that leads me now that I’m not doing it anymore.

On the other hand, Date Number 279 should give all of you hope because what I’ve been saying actually works. Tenacity and the numbers game works. I know your struggles. I am here for you. As my sister Allyson said, you may have to kiss a lot of frogs, but there is a prince at the end.

My mom told me this story about when she had her baby who died. She had fallen down a flight of stairs shortly before giving birth so the baby was in trouble and died soon after being born. What was possibly the most painful was that, after Brian died before she even woke up from the anesthesia, the hospital personnel immediately transferred her out of the maternity ward. It was as if she was no longer a mother.

My experiences matter and I have so much to offer. I hope you’ll let me stay in the club even though I’ve found my prince. It’s the logical result of dating, at least that’s what they tell me.

Now—my Cute Single and Available (CSA) friend needs a date... Any takers?

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones

The Sex Talk

I am a terrible mother. Not for the usual reasons that I think I’m a bad mother, though those are many.

I don’t give my daughter all organic food, and if the truth be told she’s seen the inside of several McDonald’s (*astonished gasps from the audience*). Before she was even close to being old enough to read, she could easily recognize the large billboard logo of the corporate evil that is Wal Mart.

Plus, much to my mother’s dismay—and besides the fact that my mother was neither Catholic nor Jewish, she had a corner on the guilt market—Leah slept in my bed on and off until she was ten-years-old, probably increasing her need for therapy. She doesn’t always go to bed on time. I am constantly worried that I don’t expose her to enough fine art, quality literature, and great culture. Sometimes (wait for it here) we eat in front of the television.

All of those maternal shortcomings, however vast they may be, are not why I’m losing sleep of late. It’s… S E X.

I have read all of the parenting books that tell me I should talk to my child naturally and often about sex. I watch shows that suggest I use popular songs and media topics as a springboard to bring the subject up naturally into conversation.

What ends up happening is something very different. I wish there were scripts to follow for this (like Sex Talk 1, Sex Talk 2, and so on) or maybe a Sex Information Camp I could send her to which would absolve me of the responsibility (I picture it being something like the Cheerleading and Horseback Riding camps I’ve sent her to in the past only they’d learn all they needed to know about smooching and...everything else.

As I often do when faced with a difficult solo parenting problem, I ask myself WWLGD (What Would Lorelai Gilmore Do?). She would probably handle the issue with humor, ease, style, and finesse. However, my efforts have been more like a cross between Lucille Ball and June Cleaver. It makes me uncomfortable, and Leah senses that and feels uncomfortable too. It usually goes something like this:

Me: Hey that song reminds me that girls are not just sex objects, ya know? (trying to sounds hip and cool)

Leah: (horrified) We’re not going to talk about this again, are we?

Me: Well, all the books say we should talk about sex a lot and I want to make sure you don’t have any questions. Do you understand how everything works? (putting my hand on her arm)

Leah: (rolling eyes) Yes, I do. Mom, I get it. I’m a unique and special snowflake. I’ll kick anyone who tries to do something I don’t want, ok?

Me: That’s not all honey. Sex is beautiful when it’s right, but I just want to make sure that if you have any questions you can ask me. I could never ask my mom.

Leah: (double eye roll) Puhlease don’t tell me about the book that Granny bought for you and my aunts again. If I have to hear about the pictures of flowers getting pollinated one more time…and I know that’s not how people do it, ok?

Me: (uncertain) All right, but I love you so much.

Leah: I know mom, now can we go to Hollister?

I’ve asked friends for advice and they’re not much help either. One girlfriend said that she went into her daughter’s room every day and announced, “If you’re going to have sex, use a condom.” Another recommended a book, which I held off on ordering for a long time since I did in fact have bad memories of learning about the “Birds and Bees” from the book my mother gave Mary, Allyson, and me. While very colorful, it wasn’t exactly the most accurate piece of scientific information.

I finally bought the book which is called s.e.x. and it is by Heather Corinna (her website is here), and I have to say that Leah and I are both learning something. I will tell you that Corinna is more progressive than the birds and bees book and maybe more on the liberal end of the spectrum than some people would like. However, for us, I think it’s good. She deals with everything from homosexuality to kissing to sexual abuse to cybersex to friends with benefits. She EVEN has a chapter on Internet dating.

Most importantly, I think Lorelai would approve.

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones

Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas

It’s time for two Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas. More and more, I am asked questions about Internet dating. In the grocery store, when I’m picking up my dry cleaning, at my aerobics class, by email, on Facebook, Twitter, and even at my daughter’s middle school. I guess once you’ve been on over 250 online first dates, you get to be known as something of an expert.

I am happy to help. For one thing, I don’t think anyone should have to go through what I did. Dating stalkers and lawyers is not a great deal of fun. Secondly, if vicariously we can learn through the mistakes of others who are experts, then isn’t that better? I mean, the self-help book industry is making millions off of it for a reason.

So here are two Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas (they are two-for-ones), and I plan to feature two more every couple of weeks. Of course the names and identifying details are changed to protect the innocent and, sometimes, the very very guilty.

Dear Tiia,

I have been corresponding with a girl from one of the online dating services. We seem to have quite a bit in common, so we set up a time to meet. Then, out of nowhere, in an email she asked me, “Do you think you’ll like me? What happens if you don’t like me? What do you see happening at our first date?” Her picture seems fine (though that’s not the most important thing to me), and she has many good qualities like a sense of humor and intelligence, but this put me off. I’m not sure how to respond. Do you think she’s looking for a one-night stand?

Signed,

Worried William

Double W,

She sounds really insecure more than anything. I doubt that she’s looking for a one-night stand. I DO think that it’s really bad Internet dating etiquette, however, on her part for exactly the reasons you’ve described. It makes her seem desperate which is never attractive and is confusing. You have two choices: try to reassure her and go ahead with the date or back out now and consider this a red flag. I know which one I’d pick. But then, I’ve seen a lot of flags.

Tiia

Dear Tiia,

I really would like to start online dating. I have been divorced for over three years, and I’m a single mom. I’m attractive and well-educated. But I don’t know how to write the profile and I’m scared of getting rejected. Help!

Nurse Nightengale

Night,

For one thing, in the US today as many marriages are begun on the Internet as in church (one-fifth). What are you waiting for? What is the worst thing that can happen? You don’t meet someone? Well, you already AREN’T meeting someone! So…duh, this is a no-brainer.

Believe me, there are so many men out there who want to meet you or someone like you. It takes courage and determination, but so does raising kids on your own and you’re doing that. So either watch another episode of “iCarly” and feel sorry for yourself, or start writing that profile.

As for that profile, remember my adage, “Online dating is a lot like a job interview and should be treated as such.” The dating profile is similar to the job application. You want to present yourself in as positive a light as possible without lying. Save the reptile collection and acid reflux for later…much later. You are marketing a product--yourself. In that respect, you are writing advertising copy for a very desirable person so your profile copy should be catchy, funny, intelligent, and warm. Above all, it should NOT have spelling or grammar errors. For more on profile writing check out the relevant article on the Discussion tab of my Facebook Page or email me. Good luck and happy dating!

Tiia

And now, the results of the latest blog survey. The question was, “As a single parent, how do you approach dating someone with/without children,” and the results surprised me.

• 42.9%  don’t screen potential dates based on whether or not they have kids but on other factors
• 28.6% prefer potential mates who have kids but if other factors are great they’d consider dating them
• 28.6% also said that they prefer daters who do not have kids but if other factors are great they’d give it a try
• 28.6% (a three-way tie) said that it really just depends on the individual person.
• 14.3% reported that they only date people who have children.
• 0% said they only date men/women who do not have children

A new survey starts this week, and the topic is: First Date Pet Peeves! Please make sure to register your vote.

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones

Nurse picture courtesy of gryphonscry.wordpress.com

Dating Raj (Guest Post)

Today we have a special guest post from fellow single mom and author Swati Bharteey. Swati is working on a book that shares real-life stories about all sorts of single moms from all over the US. I so enjoy her writing and you can see some of of the warm, entertaining, and sensitive snapshots into single mom life on her blog. She is writing today about a dating experience, and I so appreciate her taking the time out of her day to share a story I think every single mom dater can relate to. It’s a bit long, but well worth the read!

I am so honored to be featured on Tiia’s blog today! I’m a 42 year-old single mom with an eight year old daughter (that’s code for chatty, bossy , little mini-me who believes she’s the Lion King)…anywhatever, she’s grown on me so I am keepin’ her! I thought it may be fun to share a dating tale with you today. This particular crooked turn took place in my life just after my divorce, when my daughter was just 3. I hope you enjoy the read - and thanks again Tiia for having me at your blog!

Swati

I had just moved into a new apartment building with my three-year-old daughter a few weeks ago when we received a little flyer saying that the building was hosting a social hour for all residents. I decided we should go down and be neighborly – why not start my single mom life with some new people in my life? We got some munchies and then my daughter and I settled down at a table. A few people came by to chat and it was nice to socialize without any pressure.

Soon a guy sat down at our table and introduced himself. His name was Raj (thirty-three, never married, nice looking, great physique) and he was a surgeon. Raj was very friendly and he had moved into the building a few months before us. We chatted casually for a bit but after about fifteen minutes, I started to get up, explaining that I needed to get my daughter to bed. Surprising me, Raj quickly invited my daughter and me to dinner the next evening. I said yes and realized how nice it was to feel welcomed on our new turf.

My daughter an I headed into our nighttime routine - which consisted of me trying to connect with my pillow as soon as possible while my daughter tried to keep making cutie pie faces at me so she could stay up later. He sure was brave, I thought, to invite both of us over even though he didn’t know us too well. However, I couldn’t tell if he was being neighborly and nice or if he was interested in me in some way. Either way, I knew I was looking forward to it. But it would be nice to meet someone you really liked in your own building, wouldn’t it? Especially within a couple of weeks of moving in? That would be a great story to tell my grandkids someday. I would smile and say that my daughter and I had gone down to the social casually, and then Raj sat down, and then we sparked, and then we bought a house, and then…

The next day, I bolted out of work at 5:00pm sharp, battled the hurricane that is downtown Chicago traffic, picked up my little angel from school, and quickly stopped to get a box of chocolates for Raj. We got home, I threw on some jeans, freshened my makeup, and we headed up the elevator to Raj’s place. I still hadn’t figured out if he was really interested in me or not; and though I had no new data from which to make any conclusions, I kept wondering about it, because why would I let the absence of facts stop me? The magic of a potential crush had tickled the inside of my stomach all day.

We got to Raj’s door; he opened it and immediately reached over and literally gave my daughter’s head a few awkward puppy-like-pats. Three-year-olds don’t care for this very much and my daughter glared up at him (actually I don’t think any human cares for this much). Raj didn’t notice and asked us in. Ok, we were off to a…start.

Though his apartment was just 900 square feet, Raj spoke on turbo volume when he addressed my not-at-all-hearing-impaired child (she didn’t care for that either). And when he did it, I kept jumping a little because it was so startling. I realized that Raj had absolutely no idea how to speak or interact with kids. I was tempted to tell him that he could speak to her normally, not right in her little face, not on EXTRA LOUD, not through me, just normally. But it felt a little rude. Alright, I’m sure he’ll talk in a normal voice very, very soon, I thought kindly, generously, magnanimously. He probably isn’t around kids much and he’s probably a bit nervous. Maybe I’ll ask him about something in his comfort zone, like his work. That should put him at ease.

Me: “So, Raj, what kind of surgeon are you?”

Raj: “I’m a pediatric surgeon. I specialize in cleft palettes.”

A pediatric surgeon who didn’t know how to talk to or be around kids? What strange worm hole had I entered? Clearly the anesthesiologists did their work before Raj ever saw the children! Thankfully, my little miss seemed engrossed in the crayons and coloring book I had brought along.

The meal itself went fine; he was a pretty good cook and both my daughter and I enjoyed to food. But, now that I had opened the spigot, Raj couldn’t stop talking about how successful he was and how mature he was for his age. I asked about travel, books he had read, hobbies. I got a question back about every 25 minutes or so. Raj was clearly adept at continuously weaving one of his stories into the next like an endless piece of yarn. My mind began to wander back to getting my daughter to bed and how many work emails I could get done that night if we left soon.

No butterflies fluttered in my tummy; even they were tired of hearing Raj talk about Raj.

I told Raj I had a conference call that night (such a lie) and we left. The next day, as I contemplated what time I should call to thank him so we wouldn’t have to talk, (I still had manners), my phone rang. It was Raj and he told me in one long sentence that he had a great time last night and he would love to have me over again alone on Friday night. I was so surprised - hadn’t he noticed I wasn’t paying attention to him last night? Couldn’t he tell he was boring people with his live self-indulgent dissertations? Wow. That was amazing.

But not as amazing as my response – because before I could think, I said yes! Hearing my own response made me shiver a little. What was wrong with me? We hung up and I thought, well, anyone can have a bad first date; and in fairness, we hadn’t been alone. Maybe he was just jittery? I think I heard my gut groan a little.

So, Friday came and I found myself kind of looking forward to it as the memory of our first dinner had faded a bit, allowing me to sprinkle fairy dust on it. It was nice to have someone make dinner for me, twice in one week at that; and he was nice looking and smart. Maybe that first night was nerves; after all, I reasoned, people talk a lot when they are nervous. Plus it made me a little giddy to get some male attention. I came home from work, did the super-mom-can-get-ready-in-15-minutes-flat beautification routine, and headed up to Raj’s’s place.

When I got there, I found that he had set up dinner for us on his balcony - candles, music, everything. Ok, he was definitely interested. And I found it very romantic. This evening was starting out much better. I smiled.

His volume dial was on “normal” so I didn’t jump when he spoke. And he asked me a few more questions – though he was still intrigued with himself. I knew it wasn’t a match, but the evening and the sunset were lovely - and I was relaxed. Soon afterwards, we finished eating and Raj offered to massage my shoulders. Hmmm…an opportunity was presenting itself to have a great make-out session – which I hadn’t had in a long time. I thought, why not? I wasn’t falling for him, and he was falling for himself (again). Raj was completely taken with flexing his wares for me – and he was a busy, busy, very important, specialist in his field, so this couldn’t go anywhere, right? Lighten up, I thought, and have fun. You don’t want to see him again – so you won’t. What’s a little kissing?

Regrettably, Raj was better at flexing his muscles than knowing how to use them. Ahem. All I want to say is that a kiss can be very, very sensual, unless you stick your tongue in and out of a girl’s mouth repeatedly, as stiff as a board. Bend. Flex. Be a little loose! And, while I walked away thinking “Ok, that so didn’t scratch the itch,” Raj, it turns out, fell for me. I felt terrible and guilty (sometimes I hate being a girl). I couldn’t say “please don’t call” because it felt mean. Like any mature independent woman, I chose instead to avoid his calls and chatter through any shared elevator rides so he couldn’t speak much. His calls stopped after I moved out. Five months later. Not my best idea.

Why I Don't Date Men Without Children

I am very honored today to be featured as a guest blogger on the very talented Swati Bharteey’s wonderful blog The Single Mother's Chronicles with a story called The Incident of the Wagon or Why I Don’t Date Men Without Children.

I’ve enjoyed Swati’s Blog very much as it features a variety of articles, both about her life and about the lives of other single moms. I especially like how she frequently gives you a snapshot about a poignant moment in a single mother’s life. Take a look—you won’t be sorry you did. There is also a link to her blog on my home page (in addition to the link above).

So when she asked me to give her a guest post, I decided to tell a story of my own. It involves a childless lawyer, a red wagon, a broken arm, and a ravine. Please check it out and let me know your thoughts.

 http://tiny.cc/2yrcr

Thanks Swati for the invitation.

Happy Father's Day to Me!

As I was reading a recent post on Singlemommyhood.com about Jackie’s Father's Day Drama, I couldn’t help but think of that day ten years ago when I became, not a single parent, but a solo parent. Yes, there is a difference.

Every year about this time, I reflect on what it means to be both father and mother to my child. Reading Jackie’s heartfelt and eloquent thoughts about dealing with a “deadbeat” father, caused my mind to drift back ten years to the day I got that fateful letter from the court. I had received so many court notices from The Ex that it wasn’t unusual. I opened it while Leah was riding her little pink tricycle in the courtyard of our townhouse complex. Distractedly watching her and the other neighborhood children on bikes, trikes, and big wheels, the words grabbed me out of my distraction.

“Relinquishment of Rights and Responsibility. Respondent (that was him) agrees Petitioner (that was me even though I didn’t remember ever petitioning for anything) shall make all major decisions regarding the child. Respondent relinquishes and surrenders further rights to the child. Respondent agrees to abatement of Parenting Time.”

I called my best friend and lawyer Arianna and read her the contents of the legal notice.

“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “he has decided not to be her father.”

“Can he do this?” I wailed.

“Yes, he can do this. He may think he’ll get out of paying child support, but that isn’t the case. We could tell the judge we want to deny the motion, but it probably won’t do any good.”

I looked up to where one of the neighborhood girls was pushing Leah on her trike. She hadn’t gotten the hang of the business of peddling.

“The hearing is Tuesday,” I said flatly.

“I’ll be there.”

“I know.”

The Ex didn’t come for the hearing, and his attorney seemed apologetic when he said that it should be a rather simple procedure and that The Ex wasn’t required to even be there. You can go to court, decide not to be someone’s father, all without even showing up. How do you like them apples? It was all very anticlimactic. We didn’t even see the judge.

As we were leaving, The Ex’s attorney said he was sorry for the whole thing. “Yeah, me too,” I replied. “Do you know why he did this?”

“No,” he answered. “I merely file the motions my clients ask me to file. I can’t make him want to be a parent.”

Arianna shook her head.

When I got home, my already rotten day got even worse. The UPS man came to the door with a large box. Leah exclaimed, “presents!”

Fortunately, I had a notion that maybe the contents weren’t from Toys R Us or Baby Gap. I had seen that the return address was from The Ex. I told Leah to play in the other room while I opened the box. The box, as it turned out, was only a gift in the most macabre sense of the word, packed I assume by The Ex’s new wife.

It had every toy that had been over at The Ex’s house, every scrap of clothing including every little sock and hair bow. It even had pants and panties that had been soiled during her toilet training accidents that had never been washed and were returned these months later completely filthy and covered with, well, filth. It had pictures drawn by Leah, crayon drawings made while waiting at restaurants, stuffed animals, and Happy Meal toys. It was, in short, every tangible memory of Leah that had remained in his life. Effectively, he had relinquished his rights and responsibilities, and sent them to me in a cardboard box.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath. That’s one thing I know for sure about being a single mother, and in particular a “solo” mother. There is never anyone to take over, never anyone to give you a break. When you are tired or stressed or upset or sad or sick, you just deal with it. So I threw out the clothes that were too gross to salvage and boxed up the memories.

Every year on Father’s Day, I have an urge to send myself a card or a gift. Just to say, “Hey, you’re doing a great job. Maybe not a perfect job and probably not the best job, but a great job nonetheless. You’ve raised a good kid who made it to the age of thirteen without any major mishaps. Everyone says she’s beautiful and fun to be around and you love each other. Happy Father’s Day to me!”

copyright © 2009  Tiia Jones

The Sticky Spot

The invention of sticky notes is right up there in significance with the discovery of fire, the implementation of a GPS system in my car, the common usage of DVR technology, and the invention of the wheel (not necessarily in that order) in my book. Following is a few random sticky notes I’ve had on my mental board:

 

 

 

Voting Won't Make You Look Fat in the Mirror!

The synopsis of my upcoming book follows. This blog post is simple. You are the wonderful supporters who have been there from the beginning. You know me and you know my story. When I went to New York City, the people in “the know” in the publishing world suggested that my memoir might need a new title.

I recently held a title contest on my Facebook Group page and here are the finalists in survey format (poll/survey to the right). I’ve also included the original title because maybe, “It ain’t broke.” Fish Hugger is joining with me to offer delicious prizes to the winner(s) so your vote really counts.

Please vote in the survey for the title you think most effectively describes the book based on the synopsis and also has the most catchy “hook.” Thanks again for your input!

Synopsis

When my daughter asked Santa Claus for a new Daddy, I set out to find her one using Internet dating; two hundred thirty seven first dates later, what she got was a new Mom instead.  My memoir chronicles the lessons this teacher learned from each date and my struggles as a single mom.

Over the course of my odyssey, I was fired from a job for premarital sex, brought up on pornography charges, and gained my independence after an abusive marriage when I received first my Master’s Degree and then my PhD in Education. I was stalked by dangerous men, and had more dating disasters than I care to remember. If the man with the dungeon in his basement, the crack addict, and the man who was really a woman weren’t enough, I have a family who is almost as neurotic as me. And my daughter, Leah, developed a bonafide phobia of the Easter Bunny.

In the end, though, the experiences shaped who I ultimately became. Leah and I both found what really mattered. Internet dating destroyed me and it saved my life.