Dating with Children

I find it harder to meet people in a small town than I do when I live in a larger city. Several other friends who have also lived in both have openly disagreed with me however. “Because when there are less people, its easier to find connections.” Kinda like the six degrees of separation phenomenon.

Which, if I think of meeting people in a small town from that perspective, I can’t help but to agree. Meeting those first few kind souls is the hard part, but once the ball is rolling, suddenly you feel like you are connected to everyone. I haven’t quite decided yet if this is a good thing.

Case in point: I’ve been chatting with a gent on a dating site who lives out of town, but who is moving here at the end of the month. No expectations, just the hopes of meeting new people. He’s got a son of his own, and he’s recent, young retiree, so he has (in his own words) plenty of time on his hands. All sounds lovely so far, doesn’t it?

So I mention him to my sister, because, well, she may think of places to show this new small town member that I’d forgotten about, having only recently moved here myself. But no. Instead she asks, “His name wouldn’t happen to be so-and-so would it? Because he sounds a lot like the guy who is moving in with my coworker.”

Uh oh, I think. I know this coworker. She’s a lovely woman. Kind hearted, friendly, and passionate. But she’s talked about her new housemate often, and even I’ve wondered by the way she lights up when she speaks of him if there is something more going on than merely “two people helping each other out”.

I hate triangles, even more so in small towns because they are so common when meeting new people. So what to do? I’ll email him and ask. Hopefully he’ll get the note before he turns off his internet service, and I’ll be able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Baby Mama Drama. It’s a new term that I haven’t heard a lot, but it rings true for me on a lot of levels. If someone told me the guy I was seeing had baby mama drama, I’d probably ask questions first, and then run. Fast. Because the last thing I want to have to deal with is the unresolved business with someone else’s ex.

If I think about it objectively, I could easily be considered baby mama drama for my ex, and I have to wonder why and how he was able to move on as quickly as he did. Not because he found a new girlfriend in record time, but because there was another woman out there willing to put up with my baby mama drama. As in: she chose to move herself and her son in with my son’s father around the same time I was giving birth. I didn’t even know this woman existed until days before I went into labor, so let’s just say baby mama drama is an understatement for how I reacted.

But where does dating someone who has baggage become acceptable? (Because, let’s face it: we’ve ALL got baggage). What scenarios make someone acceptable date material?

I’m learning what does, and what doesn’t work for me as I come across it. Would I date someone whose ex was pregnant with their child? Never in a million years. Someone who had a restraining order against the other biological parent? Depends, but probably not. How about someone who is separated and is still maneuvering the divorce and custody proceedings? Nope.

But all of those are scenarios I’d already come up with solutions (for me) even before I had children. But now, as I get older, I have to wonder just how effective these self-imposed screening mechanisms are.

Why? Because few people have good, healthy relationships with their ex’s. They are an ex for a reason, usually. But I’ve seen it done - live it in fact with my daughter’s Dad. We are the best of friends, chat almost every day online, and ask each other for advice regularly. We co-parent even though they live a 12hr drive away, and all major decisions about my daughter are discussed between us, first. And honestly? It hasn’t been that hard, although I frequently hear from other parents (including my son’s grandmother) that I can’t expect the majority of single parents be so lucky.

So maybe my expectations are skewed. Or maybe I’m just learning now that baby mama drama frequently comes with the territory of being a single parent. Or maybe, just maybe, if I want to date, I’ve got to loosen up a bit.

What do you think?

Note for clarification: I have two children, separated by ten years, by different fathers. My daughter’s Dad and I are friends and have an excellent co-parenting relationship. My son’s Father has no interest in being a parent to his son, even though ours was a planned pregnancy. The negatives I’m complaining about in this post are about my son’s Father; any comments about being in regular contact are regarding my daughter’s Dad.

I’m going to start this post with a disclaimer: I love the concept of speed dating. I think it’s a brilliant idea, and I think it can benefit almost anyone who decides they want to take the plunge.

This may sound like I’m gushing about speed dating, or perhaps that I’m biased - but I’m neither. I don’t own or run a speed dating company, and I’ve never met someone I’ve dated at a speed dating event. And yet, I can’t get the idea out of my head that there isn’t another event or situation that you can place yourself into, where you’ll be guaranteed to meet someone you click with (or you get to attend another event for free).

Of the speed dating companies I’ve either reviewed for my “other” job or used personally, every single one has offered a guarantee: If you don’t meet someone that you click with, you an attend another event free of charge. Add to the fact that everyone in attendance is pre-chosen (based on their age and the fact that they are single and looking) - does it get any better?

Ok, ok. Some speed dating companies charge a bit much. $40 a night is steep in my world, but I wouldn’t have an issue with $20 for a night of meeting new people and some short but fun conversation. Adding a sitter would increase the fee a little bit, but not to an unreasonable amount. And if I don’t like the person with whom I am sharing a speed date with - all I have to do is smile pretty and wait, because our “date” will only last a couple of minutes, at best.

I’ve moved to a small town where there aren’t any active speed dating companies. Can you tell I’m pretty bummed about that? Yeah. So bummed that I’m considering running my own event, just to see if there is enough interest. Who knows? With any luck I may meet another single parent who also feels that speed dating is THE way to meet new people.

_{Photo Credit: Sanja Gjenero, stock.xchng}

It’s an interesting question, and one that I get asked often. “Bonny, you’re such a beautiful woman. Why are you still single?” asked one of my exes. Another, “You’ve got everything. Everything! Except a man. Why are you still single?”

A part of me is frustrated by the question. Why am I still single? Well, duh. Because I haven’t met someone that has rocked my world. Yet. Lately. As well, it implies that somehow I am less a woman by the sheer experience of not having a partner. Which isn’t something that I feel is lacking in my life. Ok, I would love to date someone that takes my breath away. Of course! But I’m not going to desperately cling on to anyone who smiles my way either just so that people stop asking me why I’m still single.

Are there reasons beyond the obvious? OF course. Aren’t there always? I’m still working through the drama and hurt from my last relationship with my son’s father. I feel strongly that until I can speak of the situation without negative emotion, I’m not fit for a serious relationship. I find myself not trusting strangers because of the experience, and it comes across as being closed off and unavailable. I’m also struggling to meet new people, and without new people in my life, there will be no special someone. Ok, there may be a very slight chance that my next relationship blossoms with someone I already know. Still, I’m new in town and my closest (only?) friend here is someone that has stated both in action and deed that dating each other isn’t in the cards.

Am I making excuses as to why I’m still single? Probably. I could be dating if I really put my mind to it. If I got a sitter and went to the pub, maybe. But getting a sitter for my four-month-old so I can go drink seems alien to me.

And therein lies the rub: for every opportunity, I have a reason why I can’t. I won’t. I don’t feel comfy. Excuses, really. I give people dating advice every day, and I am the most frustrated with the people stuck in the same rut I’m in now - refusing to do anything to change their situation, yet complaining that everything always stays the same.

So I guess that’s my answer. Why am I still single? Because I want to be, dammit. How about you?

As I bounce my son on one knee, he looks up at me with a fistful of hair and gives me a squeal, a smile and a raspberry. A bowl of oatmeal sits next to me, which I am munching in between attempts at one-handed typing. My son looks curiously at my breakfast, leaning precariously close to try and mimic me. But I’m onto him, and swiftly plunk the spoonful in my mouth. Then I lie him down on my lap to breastfeed, and continue on with my mission.

I’m trying to check emails at Plenty of Fish and OK Cupid, my two favorite free dating sites. I don’t have any messages at either, although I’m not surprised. I’ve used both sites on and of for years, but have yet to meet anyone that I dated from either of them. I have had relative success with Lavalife, but I seem not able to log in there frequently enough for the service to keep my profile active anymore.

I remind myself that doing the same thing over and over again will only net me the same results, which means I need to either find new online dating sites, or start using other tactics to meet someone. Hm. There aren’t any speed dating companies in my area (I live in a small town in what is considered a semi-rural area), and I’m not a bar person. I really could use a workout for this post-baby body - so maybe I’ll investigate the nearby gym. At least then if I don’t meet someone new, I can still work on becoming more of a hot momma.