SMILF - v 1.0

Meh, I'm single again.  And Josh reads the blog.  Hi Josh!  You have many admirers here!

Ha.  I'm super awesome at stealth.  Anyway...

Josh was super, and honest, and he's ready to be done with having babies.  I am not.  That is that, my friends.

I am taking a dating hiatus until sometime in the New Year...

Happy Christmas all!

XO

Feck My Life.

I'm really, really, really struggling...

I KNOW you all love Josh.  Heck, I'm pretty crazy about him too!  We had a great weekend - movie and a snuggle Friday, and spent all day Sunday together.  He's amazing.  Totally understood my one sentence, "Ireallylikeyouandit'sjustgonnatakemesometimetogetusedtosharingmytimeandenergywithanyoneevensomeoneasawesomeasyou".  He kicked my arse at Scrabble, raved over my dinner, played with my kid at Chapters while I obsessed over the best 3 Christmas books for The Girl... smiled about it! 

I'm just really sure I want to have another baby.  And it's interfering with my ability to appreciate the alternative.  Made it perfectly clear to Josh that it's always on my mind, and that it's not NOT an issue still for me.  We're both thinking on it. 

There are other factors too.  He's tied to his area of the city by the location of his children.  It's on the other side of the city... equals me starting over in a new job, with suck all for vacation, and no backyard.  Sounds small and little right?  It's not number one, but its on the list for things pulling at my mind. 

We go 2 weeks of the month with no physical contact.  I think that contributed to my battiness over the texts and emails and calls... I need physical contact.  Our attraction is NOT just physical, but I think contact connects couples in a way that maintains prolonged interest, if that makes any sense?  In my crazy head it does!

Anyway... he's coming over Wednesday night.  He's on the same page as me... if it's a big block for me, it's not fair to either of us to continue seeing each other... and yet... he's coming over Wednesday...

okokok... Some Random Posts

So, I miss this blog.  And, I feel the need to hear my readers on some things, like:

Josh is more romanticky than me.  Do I fake it?  Like set a reminder in my work calendar to send him a random text that says "X.  That is all."?  I feel like I should reciprocate his random texts despite being a crazy busy, single mom, employed as a manager and trying to succeed woman?  Wait, I'm going to go the route of "no faking orgasms, it only really hurts me" rule.  Right?  No faking my dating style?

On weeks that Josh has his kids we go a little over a week without seeing each other.  How many nights should we be talking on the phone?  'Cuz, I HAAAAATE phone calls.  I have no home phone or personal cell (work BB only).  It's rude to text or email only, right?  Even I'm a little embarrassed to ask.

Ah.  That feels better.  Welcome to the neurosis that is S(mitten)MILF.  I will be sometimes posting some crazy - better out than in, right?

The End

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

I Know!

If I were on your side of the computer, reader, reading the last few posts of mine, I'd maybe roll my eyes at the rapid descent I'd taken into contemplative thought based on one date.  I can't stand a drama queen.  Unless it's me.  My drama is never queen-ish... So.  You have to stand me too.  I wave my drama queen scepter at you and command you to read on.

I can't explain it, but after a conversation this evening with a wise woman friend of mine, I can say, I just know.  HA!  And yesterday, I did NOT know!  I still don't know the things I didn't know yesterday, but the knowledge of my excitement, my enthusiasm to open my life to Josh and to better know his life and his children is real.  After one date.  How drama queen is that?  How reckless and irresponsible!  In a heartbeat, I would have harshly judged another SMILF feeling this way.

My guard has been up and my insecurities have dominated all of my previous relationships.  Every. Single. One.  It's not present now.  

There was no pooping before Sunday Scrabble.  I wasn't really nervous.  There was already an ease in our communication that had me feeling like I was just headed over to the home of someone I've always known.  I made us tea in his kitchen while he played with my daughter.  I didn't feel like the whole relationship was riding on whether or not he noticed a zit somewhere on me.  This early stuff?  It's easy.  It's familiar.  I've never experienced anything like it. 

So anyhow... his reply to "I don't know" was via text: "SO.  You wanna hang out this weekend? x "

Via email reply, he's sorry he drew a line, and was being cautious.  He'll take it day by day with me... and he wants me to meet his kids!  I guess we're over being cautious!

I want to do what makes me happy today, as many comments have stated...other than planning for his arrival in my currently horribly dirty house this Saturday evening... that does tarnish my happiness a bit.  What to serve with red wine and Scrabble.... hmmm....

Heavier Things

Isn't science an awesome and terrible thing?  To be able to mutilate our body in such a life altering way.  To play God.  To cut the channel that leads to life.  (I did mention, didn't I, I like dramatics... heehee).

Josh sent me a long, lovely email.  He is certainly verbose.  I'm going to have a letter writing complex, I can tell.

Essentially, he drew a line.  He can tell he's going to fall hard for me, but he needs me to be honest with myself.  He does not reference his vasectomy, but I know it's what he's referring to.  His last year long attempt at a relationship ended, in part, because of his inability to have children.


My response has to be, "I don't know."

That will have to be okay for now.  If it's not something he's comfortable with, that's okay too.  I'm preparing for that.

There's so many reasons I'm not ready to say, "I'm happy to be with you."

1.  HELLO, JOSH!  We've only spent a day together.  SHEESH!  How do I know if you always leave the toilet seat up, or if you are mean to your mom?  These are important factors!

2.  I don't know what that looks like.  If a man chooses in his 20's to close the door on more children, is there room in his heart to love mine like his own?  This is important.  This is all important.

3.  Am I finished?  Am I well and truly content if I never have another child?  Would I have weaned my baby when I did?  Will my heart hurt every time I hold another person's baby?  Will I hit menopause and have a midlife crisis over it?  I DON'T KNOW.  It's too soon to tell.

4.  Will I always wonder what might have happened if I walked away and kept looking? 

I just don't know.  How does one know such a thing?  So, I'm about to write as verbose a reply as I can, saying basically three words.  I. don't. know.

HELP!

So... what's a transitioning SMILF post about?  OH!  I know.  I really do need your assistance.

Brett attended his best friend's funeral... and he is BBMing me some pretty trusting stuff.  I feel like a giant A-hole.  Or a douche.  Or a douchy A-hole.  What the heck do I do?  All comments appreciated.  Did I mention he's only been in the city a few months and thereby has NO close friends in the area?  I mean, it's not like we have "been dating"... so it's not a break up.  But I feel like a monster saying right now, "Oh, by the way, I might be seeing someone now, sooooo....".

Help!

Yes!

Well, lots more texting, some even ended with an "x"... is that a first kiss?  Whatever, it's more action than I've seen in almost 3 years.  I'm counting it.  Me thinks he likes me.

I've read the comments...  um, a zillion times... and I'm swayed back and forth with each commenter.

YES!  They do all seem perfect at first (actually, I am internalizing that - no one is perfect.  Staying unmelty.  Also taken to heart by my friend,TC).  Helps with the nerves.

YES!  I do want babies.  Surely I do!  Don't I?  This is the truth:  I felt softwarmfuzzies watching Josh with The Girl.  I didn't think one time of his severed testes while I was there.  Well, I did.  But it had nuttin' to do with baby makin'.  I wanted to jump that boy like a spring grizzly eyes an old, slow salmon.  Thank GOD The Girl was there.  My point.  I wasn't watching them thinking, "What a damn shame."

YES!  I do want to see where this goes.  I know it ultimately might lead to a super sad breakup.  Or, a Hollywood ending.  You know where the V fails and I get a one in a million baby?  Or the one where it cuts to my little Chinese daughter and I coming home to Josh and The Girl and The Stepkids?  OR... just happily ever after. 

Sunday Scrabble

I played a six hour game of interrupted Scrabble with Josh on Sunday.  He beat me.  Jerk.

He made Cinnamon Rollups,  set out fruit, prosciutto, and cheese and made a big ol' cup of coffee for us girls.  His house is full of his art, reclaimed and reworked furniture, plaster and exposed brick... you can see his hand in the whole place.  It was so comfortable and cozy.  We went for brunch and stayed until 4.  Crazy right?

The Girl played his guitar, coloured in his sketch book, and rearranged his photographs.  Josh never once looked alarmed.  He's so perfect... other than that broken baby maker.  Seriously, by the end of the day, The Girl was hanging over his legs hanging out.  And she hates people.  He also has a dog and a bearded dragon, both of which were a total hit with the kid... like "trade slobber with the dog and squish her nose to the glass of the tank constantly" hit.  Josh laid out on the floor on his belly to sketch her a greeting card quality Santa.  I'm not going to lie - watching his reaction and delight in her made my ovaries cramp.

But, I wasn't looking for a sitter.  All that is marvelous, but what did I really think of him? 

He's got a great story telling bone, he's terrible thoughtful, a good host and homemaker,  his smile is quick and open, and his bum.  Oh my.  I can't believe I didn't get caught looking at it.  He flushes when he talks about the "why" he does stuff.  That makes me melty. 

Ouch, there goes my womb.

SMILF?

The Girl is STILL sick... and she coughs until she barfs.  Tonight, I put her down... no, like to SLEEP... she's not THAT sick... weirdos...

Anyway, I put her BED, and realized her hand smelled like strawberry vomit from the last time she puked, conveniently right out of the bath and fresh into her pajamas.  And I thought, "Hm.  That kinda smells nice." 

I LIKED THE SMELL OF HER BARF.

And in the moment I realized I had a preference for the fruits I'd feed my kid when she is sick, I thought again: Mommy is really neverevereverever getting laid again.  I'm too far gone to the mom side to ever get my seksi on.

Please Universe.  No more barf.  I want some seksi  to grow back for Sunday.  You know, for when I'm playing Boggle with Josh while my toddler runs around us.  Oy.

Short Report

I might have to trim my "daily" posts to only posting when I actually have something to tell you.  I have tiny tidbits for you:

1.  Brett BBMd me to tell me his best friend was killed in a car accident.  I'm staying in close contact with him... he wanted to tell someone not close to the situation.  That's a shitty, shitty, horrid thing.  I hope I have words when he needs them.

2.  During my text date with Josh last night, I learned the following about him:
- He likes pie and bakes it, he recently ate a Bulk Barn sized bar of chocolate in one sitting, he has a mustache for Movember, he's a potty mouth like moi, he plays geetar, he drinks chamomile tea and is QUILTING, and old farts can be dead sexy.  This morning he texted, "I know I'm acting like a BF, but my morning wouldn't be complete without saying 'Good Morning'."  He's so cute.

And he's calling me riiiiight now.  Ciao.

Borink

I'm just posting to bore you.

Played, "What's your favorite..." via text with Josh.  Seriously.  I just always fall for "The Wrong Guy".

BB (That would be Backburner Brett or Boring Brett, depending on the commenter) BBM'd me.  Ahem, a quote:
"Chuck Norris is who Willis was talkin' about".

I swooned.

That is all, kids.  It's Glee night, and I am weaving in ends on a crochet throw for a friend.  And busy finding out more about Mr. Wrong.

Brett - Date 1

Well, Brett is cute in that scruffy, manly, "I work outside doing manly work" (he has a commercial grounds company franchise) way.  He's also pretty serious, might be a little shy, has a nice smile when he shows it... and ummm... not grabbing my attention. 

We met at Starbucks to pop his Starbucks cherry... that's right, he'd never been.  THAT was fun.  We talked some Starbucks... talked coffee.. talked past weekend... talked colds... pretty exciting stuff.  I waited and listened for a "click"... silence.  Nothing going on there.  He is the kind of serious that pulls at me to do silly things and MAKE laugh, if you know what I mean... like poke a finger in his uptight butt as he walks up stairs in front of me... but, I'm not sure we'll get to that. 

There was no "Nice to meet you" text as a follow up.  Men don't lose points for failing to do it, but they lose the opportunity to make me smile, thereby granting bonus points.

I can't remember ever talking about children beyond, "Yeah, I want them someday", with any one I've dated in my single gal life, and I've certainly never had a vested interest in a man's reply to a story about a child, or the answer to the question, "Have you spent much time with any kids".  Brett's reply to that... "Just my nephew... then I get to hand him back".  I think that is fairly standard for single man speak.  Single man dating is way harder conversation wise than single dad dating - my early thoughts on this.

He's pretty boring.  Maybe he thinks that of me and The Girl talk too.  But, I think we'll have coffee again.  There's nothing going on, and maybe he'll sneak up on my affections.  We'll see. 

Less Gray

Huh, it occurred to me that the whole Josh issue was a gray area too... Damn, I hate missed opportunity working on a theme!

Josh and I talked... we ARE going to take The Girl to a park at the beach this weekend, just to meet.  We had a pretty good connection, I think we're both curious to at LEAST shake a hand, you know?  I hope it doesn't cloud the issue for me. 

Ya'll are correct - it IS a dealbreaker, at least at this point.  At 33, I'm not ready to hang up that possibility.  Maybe at 38? or 39?  But for now, I'd still like to envision a "meet, fall in love, get hitched, make a baby".  I waited 30 years to be a mom, and I love it more than anything I've ever done.  I'm just not ready to say, "That's it." 

AND!

I'm meeting Brett for coffee on lunch.  A THREE POST DAY!  Can you stand it?  I'll let you know how it goes... my sinuses are packed, The Girl barfed at 4am, I AM NOT WEARING MASCARA, I have a zit that's almost healed on top of my nose, and I stayed up past my bedtime brooding and eating homemade chocolate cookies with Nutella frosting and Oh Henry's last night...

Not an optimal dating day.  But I'm getting back on that horse.

Gray

So... I still don't know about Josh... I mean, I KNOW.  I'm waiting on the opportunity to call him and tell him.

It's just discouraging.  I'm discouraged.  Tired of looking.  This post is gray.

This SMILF is going to take it day by day... but... I might be taking a "looking" hiatus.  Maybe I'll feel inspired tomorrow?   Maybe the next one is the next big thing?  Right now, I'm not even sure I care if I ever meet someone... it's how I felt the 2 years leading up to me opening my first dating account.  Will it be two more years?

Okay.  Mope over.  Maybe I'll go onto Plenty of Frogs tomorrow and wait for messages written in "text speak" to make myself feel better.  Back on the proverbial horse, right?

Snip.

Snip.

A few ways "Snip" works into this post.

Snip 1:
Josh and I did not meet this weekend.  The Girl is a coughing, vomiting disaster, and I am the only one (like seriously, the only person in a 250 kilometer radius) that will deal with that.  Josh also threw his back out at work.  So - Snip.  Cut that plan from my weekend.

Snip 2:
Josh drops that he's had a vasectomy, and he's not open to trying to reverse it.  This came up talking about his last attempt at dating.  It's one of the reasons it did not work out.

POSSIBLE Snip 3:
Me cutting this one loose.  I've always felt I'd give The Girl a sibling, single or not.  Wait a few years, and if I was still alone, turkey baste her a brother or sister.  It physically hurts my insides to consider not having a baby/nursing a baby/raising another child again.  I LOVE being a mom.  Totally do not reckon on never doing it again. 

Why is Snip 3 "possible"?   Because I know there are no guarantees in life.  What right do I have to be dissatisfied when I already have one AMAZING child in my life?  What if I meet someone with an unsnipped whatever-it-is-they-snip and fall in love and still have no more babies?  That's possible.  What if I don't meet anyone and try a turkey baster and that results in no babies?  That's possible too.  He also picked THE best weekend to tell me he's neutered...  Two full weeks of coughing, snotting, whining, puking The Girl.  UGH.   No more babies?  Let me wipe the milk curd barf off my cheek and think about that!

Is this a deal breaker?

Breaking Rules

I am breaking a rule:

8.  It is absolutely possible to develop a really huge crush on someone via email if it goes on too long, and then feel like a total douchebag when you meet the first time and realize there's not enough gold in Saudi Arabia to get you to have sex with that person.  Meet early.  Don't make this "I'm a poopy person" inducing mistake.  The internet will never measure spark.  Do not get invested without a meeting.

Josh and I text all day long right now, and it's cute stuff.  He wishes me good night with "Nighters, silly duck".  We talk about our kids.  We talk about our good minutes, our tough minutes, our funny minutes.

We REALLY have to meet this weekend.  This is complicated.  He's very okay with hanging with The Girl and I.  If I didn't know someone well who knows him well, and has told me to "go for it", that would never happen.  Here's his words from an email:

Considering that you might want someone in your life to mesh with what exists already (that being you and The Girl) then wouldn't it stand to reason that we see what chemistry exists in that setting?

But that's a rule.  I know it.  Really, The Girl meets new people all the time, and this is a friend of a friend... is it totally wrong to go for a walk in a park with a "date" and my child?  Ugh.  It's FRIDAY, and I still don't know.

Some history, for those that don't know.  I don't live anywhere near family, so dating means putting The Girl in care for dates.  I'm loathe to do that, because I work full time, and I love spending my weekends with her.  And in reality, I'm not looking to date someone that would want her not to be a part of whatever plays out.  

But... 

If this lasts a year, and next year, I meet someone, and that lasts a year, and on and on and on... what sort of damage will this do to The Girl?  Thinking about this... is almost too much to bear.  Scares the absolute will to date right out of me.  It makes me hesitate... in so many ways.  Might be why you guys get so little to read about?  

This is one of so many rules I'm negotiating and running into.... as a SMILF.  Whole new dating universe.

Lessons Learned

No coffee today.  Josh hasn't brought it up, and we all know first dates to me are as anxiously awaited as an appointment to have nose hairs pulled, one by one... so I didn't bring it up either.  He's still talking about this weekend.

So, as I sprawled in my bath tonight (The Girl goes to bed at 645 since the time change... BLISS) doing absolutely freaking nothing... I thought I'd give you a list of lessons learned from previous online dating experiences.  Because I love you, and I want to save you the hassle should you give it a go in the future.

1.  All high school Catholic board teachers smoke pot.  A lot of it.  If you need some, ask one.

2.  Personal trainers will show up for your first date with a mesh shirt on that will show the shadow of nipple. Take a pass.

3.  Personal trainers will tell you how to best work off those 5 pounds over your first dinner date.  Trust me, you'll just spend the rest of the evening thinking about where he saw those 5.  Oh, and there's such a thing as a "Naked Women's Wrestling League".  He trains the "wrestlers".  Okay, I'm moving on now.

4.  Men who only have photos that look like scanned yearbook photos, are 15 years older, balder, and heavier than the photo represents.

5.  Men with photos that have you squinting and pressing your nose to the screen to discern any facial features for all 5 of their photos, are hiding something.

6.  Men that sweat profusely just living their daily life, will shower you in sweat during sex.  Stay on top, and buy pillow and mattress protectors if that's the only flaw.  And bulk laundry detergent, you'll be washing your sheets a lot at first.

7.  Men that have this or something like it in their profile, "Don't bother wasting my time if you're not ready to date, are hung up on your ex, or have mental issues" have baggage.  Serious baggage.  Trust me.

8.  It is absolutely possible to develop a really huge crush on someone via email if it goes on too long, and then feel like a total douchebag when you meet the first time and realize there's not enough gold in Saudi Arabia to get you to have sex with that person.  Meet early.  Don't make this "I'm a poopy person" inducing mistake.  The internet will never measure spark.  Do not get invested without a meeting.

9.  If you meet someone that still lives at home with mom, make them a friend instead.  Wait until they've moved out.  No good will come of this.  They will see your independence as a ticket out of mom's house.  That's it.

That's all I got for now!  If I think of any more, I'll be sure to follow up with another list.

On The Heels of "Hotness"... The Universe Speaks

Had to make a special update... you'll be terribly happy I did...

My Chai Rooibos Yogi tea tag reads:  You will never find happiness if you do not conquer your own doubt.

If that's not the universe sending me a message... then it's just one more of the reasons I love that tea...

Plus, Josh sent me all sort of text flattery this morning, so my head is nice and fat.  I'll ride that for now.

Hotness?

Nothing really current to relay to you - sent an email to Josh, received an email back... a couple of silly texts.  Thought I'd talk about something that's always plagued me.

Boys that are hotter than me.

No one wears a number around, and I'm sure many greater than me will tell me physical beauty is subjective, and that this is a silly concern.

I am not that big.

Josh, I can tell by checking out ALL his Facebook photos, is way hotter than me.  He has a strong jaw (go on, fling yer terd, Draper), warm, wide smile and has that casual cool bohemian thing that automatically assigns you one level higher on the hot scale.

Like Brad Pitt is hot... but Brad Pitt is just THAT MUCH MORE hot, because he can rock a fedora and goatee, you know?  And McConaughey... with the bare feet, naked chest, hippy beads and jeans hanging off his chiselled hips?  Men that can do that can date 2 rungs over their own rating (if that is possible...)

sigh.
 
Anyhow, my little grade school insecurities ALWAYS flare when I go into a first meeting thinking "He's WAY too hot for me".

That's all.


Anyone reading marry someone they felt was much hotter than themselves?

No Date For YOU!

Brett cancelled.  I'm relieved.  He added me to his work Blackberry, asked me to send him some test email to it because he felt it wasn't working correctly, then said he was swamped and had to rebook for later this week.

Since I'm all booked up with gym, and possibly Josh on Thursday, I told him next week.

He simply said, "Boo".  "Okay".

Snore.

Where's the wooing?  There's zero woo in this guy, I'm a neglected housewife already.

Really though, who cares.  I'm planning to be swept off my feet later this week.  Oh yeah.

The Morning Report.

Jess - Josh is 34 to my 33, by almost exactly one year.  Boy started making babies young-ish, by my elderly parenting standards.

So... today is coffee with Brett.  Ya'll feel it's useful.  So, I go and await bedazzling conversation and... a free coffee.  Or an opportunity to say, "I told you so!".  I don't even think I'll feel like pooping I'm so uninvested.

Stay tuned for "The Afternoon Report" for a post date wrap up.

OH!  Almost forgot - got an email from Doug making a light hearted comment about one of my Facebook status' from last week.  He received a clipped 4 word reply... See readers!  I told you!  That shoulder was icing!

Quick - Answer Me This:

Should I cancel tomorrow's coffee date?  Brett bores the heck outta me digitally, I'm not even remotely excited to meet him tomorrow.  I can't stop thinking I should cancel.  Please comment.  Why bother, right?

Coffee, Emails, Butter Tarts

It's been a ridiculously busy weekend in my love life!

When Brian and I parted on Friday, he asked if he could call me, and I said, "Sure!", while staring at the ground.  That's why I needed to figure out how to let him know I wasn't interested.  My post was not complete, sorry!

So, an email was sent to Brian, letting him know he was a really cool, intelligent coffee date, but there was no physical spark there.  If I had received it, my ego would have taken a hit, but what else was the option?  Better than ignoring, right? 

He emailed back with the same message and a "Let's be friends, if you promise you can keep it platonic *winky face*". 

That one, I AM going to ignore.

Then Backburner Brett BBMd me and asked me to do lunch coffee.  I accepted.  That's on for Tuesday.

Josh and I had been emailing and texting furiously on Friday and Saturday, and on Saturday night at about 9, we had an almost 2 hour phone call.  Both of us hung up a few times to tend to little kid needs (his are 10 and 8 - I can't remember if I had reported ages, and if I had, if it was reported accurately), but it was definitely the longest call I've had in 10 years? 

I detest the phone.  I use it to make plans.  That's it.  This is Something.  To keep my nerves down, I told him I was going to put him on speaker and make a wreath while we talked.  There's a lot of anxiety for me in a phone call.  We all know how inconvenient my nervous habit would be during a PHONE CALL.  When would I flush?  Here's what I made, instead.  Maybe it will hang on our door 50 years from now?  In Hollywood, you KNOW it would.


So, we talked for two hours about our children, our parenting, our hobbies, our pasts... it was nice!  Only a couple awkward silences.  Those felt much longer than I'm sure they were.  He asked me for a lunch coffee, set for Thursday (since I'd agreed to a lunch coffee with Brett on Tuesday, and I have a running date with Rylan the gym on M-W-Fs).

Before we hung up, he said, "So, essentially, we've just had our first date!"

Really - we really did!  Single parents do some phone dating!

He added me on Facebook, posted on my wall and texted me this morning.  I think he likes me.

He also asked me this morning to make butter tarts with him next weekend.  I had said the only crusty thing I'd ever be tempted to try baking would be that delectable treat...

I'll save the whole internal struggle over the butter tarts invite for another day...

The (Up)Date.

I have to preface this post with a truly horrible secret about the SMILF.  I rarely get terribly nervous about anything.  Truly - I didn't stress about pushing a baby out for nine months of pregancy, I don't flip out at "job evaluation time"... This is for the best.  That paragraph is NOT the truly horrible secret.

If you have a delicate nature, or are eating lunch, close this blog.

I poop when I'm nervous.  Like, I have to be REALLY, REALLY, REALLY nervous for it to happen.  But when I am, like in the hour preceding a job interview I desperately want, or before a 1st date, or 5th, if I really like the guy, I poop a lot.

In pre-The Girl days, I would just suggest meeting for a beer, and I'd have one before I went, which relaxed me.  I smoked at the time, so I burnt a lot of nervous energy at the expense of my lungs.  Neither of these are appropriate for a job interview, a lunch date, or an evening date where I have to come home and parent alone later that night.  Let's face it - cabs cost money, as does child care, and single parenting pays very poorly.  Lunch coffee is easiest on my pocket book.  It just doesn't allow me to get a little oiled with alcohol.

Anywho, back to my new nervous habit, pooping.  It has it's upside.  I feel VERY svelte for every first date.  There's NO chance of accidentally tooting over coffee, that's all gone.  And, fortunately, it passes when I actually get up to go to my date.  It's the sitting and stewing.  I can't take it.

I'm telling you this because I'd like to direct you to this blog post, by SINGLE DAD LAUGHING... who's advice was NOT timely in my case, but handy, for my next first date.

Yeah, there's going to be another first date.  This was not a match.

Brian was nice.  I felt very relaxed with him.  He reminded me of any good ol' boy I'd find having coffee in any of my hometown gas station/restaurants (yes, we have those where I grew up).  I would TOTALLY hang out with him again and play crib or euchre over a beer.  But there's no chemistry.  At all.

Now, how do I tell a nice guy that?  Dodging emails, calls and texts would be my old way.  Seriously, I sucked at being a nice person. 

Suggestions?  My only thought is an email.  I'm a phone a phobe, and I don't think one date warrants a call.

Date Day!

This, my friends, is a placeholder.  I write my blog in the evenings, and schedule them to post for the next day.  Now, you've been with me for over a month with no reportable dates... and it just would NOT be loving or kind of me to make you wait for Monday for the coffee report! 

So!  Check back later for a bonus daily post - with juicy date deets.  I promise.

A Date! A Date!

I'm having lunch with Brian on Friday, around the corner from my office.

NO DATE SCHEDULED YET WITH JOSH (Edited for clarity lol) That creative guy, the one I swore would fizzle... we have a friend in common on Facebook.  He summers in my hometown... small world!  His name is Josh.  He has been separated for FIVE years, has 2 children and is very cute.  He makes me nervous.  In a "He's super cool" way.  Cool people freak me out.

Barf. Not Sexy.

You know what makes me feel terribly unromantic and not a bit like being wittty and cute on a dating site.  Puke on my shirt.  The Girl is sick.  I've been home and will remain home... work Thursday?  I have absolutely no desire to look for someone else who will have needs all their own I'll need to meet.  How do married MILFs (MILVES?) do it?  I suppose sick kids only feel like an eternity, and are not actually a constant. 

I did email a bit with Brian today, and might be on for MSN tonight.  He did send me 2 pics today.  He's got a crazy sexy mouth and jaw... and he really is interesting.  Anyone know where Tom Cruise gets his lifts?  I'm definitely going to meet him.  In flats.

All New for November

I'm scrapping all current men.  Or back burnering?  Can I -ing that phrase?

Absolutely, Jess, I have a little growing resentment towards Doug.  If he asked me out, I'd go in a 1/4 of a heartbeat.  I'm well over being kept on the stringer and hoping.  Reread my first post - I'm a catch.  Why am I waiting on one man to see that?  Over it.  I've got the shoulder icing for his next text, should there be one.  He is officially on the back burner.

Brett BBMs about work... sends me images of his work trucks... complains about his staff... uh, I feel like we've been married 32 years already.  He's boring.  I'm passing.

Brian, the short one, is 5'6" and 42.  I do enjoy the light chat we've had, but really, I'm 5'6 and I like heels... and his picture is the pits... we're on MSN tomorrow (I'm home - The Girl is crazy sick), and if he can't send me one decent picture, I'm ignoring him.

Ummmmm who else is there?  We already know Rylan uses phrases like, "Nothin' wrong with a little extra meat."

Oh wait, no, you didn't, but I did and saved it for later use.  Ha!

I'm on a total bitch roll, right?  I should start tracking my period.  I have no idea if that passes as my excuse or not.

So, we're left at All New for November!  I did receive messages from two single dads.  One is a police officer a la Doug (strike ONE!), and the other is listed as "renovator/artist"... I'm sure that one will fizzle... creative thinkers tend to frustrate my analytical mind.  They are both too new for naming.

Boo!

No drunk texts.  Didn't even cross my mind!  I feel so Ruled!  Had a great time and was too busy having said great time to even think about the idiot.  See SMILF witch with Biker Bitch:

The Girl is sick, so we're spending an extra night with the grandparents.  Can't imagine I'll go froggin' with my mom over my shoulder, but we'll see!

This week, I maybe have coffee with Brett, and I have lunch tentatively arranged with a fella I've been chatting with daily for about a week - Brian.  Yup, I've been keeping seeeecrets!  Really, I'm not sure if I'm interested, so I didn't bother reporting.  I'd like to meet him first and determine whether there's anything worth getting y'all worked up over. 

He's short.  I'm going to hell for saying I have to meet him before I decide if that matters, right?  So be it.

This Week Brought To You By The Letter "TEXT".

Oh, Don Draper.  You win.  Rylan's a tool.  He's so pretty!  He was also very helpful, but a total airbag.   Sorry Jess!  He really is just a pogo!  There was really nothing attractive about him once we started talking.  The fantasy dies here.  Let's all observe a moment of solemn silence, and move on.

Did you see the title of this post?  Do you know where it's going?

I'm a devious little woman.  I DID NOT TEXT Doug.  I wrote and deleted 100 texts today, and sent not a one.  You can't flog me.  But...

You knew that "but" was coming, right?  Only smarties read this blog.  So, BUUUUUT...

I know Doug.  He can't resist a funny, cute Facebook status about poop and "The Girl".... so I wrote one. 

*bats eyelashes*

WHAT?!?!?! Totally innocent!  How can you point a finger at me?  All I did was relay a super cute kid tale.  Shut up!

*phone blips*

Doug (D) - I laugh my ass off everytime I read a poop story!  I love it! *Smiley Face*
SMILF (S) - She's a funny little twerp, that's for sure!
D - God, the stories just make me smile.  You guys are awesome.
S - Thanks!  I'm feeling particularly smooshy about life tonight... that put me over the top!
D - Smooshy???  And you're welcome.  I only speak the truth.
S - Yeah.  Smooshy.  Soft, fuzzy, big, warm, grateful, humbled, pleased... all in one word.
D - Excellent!  Very happy to hear that!  I'll hope to use that word too!
S- I'll hope that for you too.  I was thinking tonight that the wonder of having a child is that you can never regret a single event leading up to her, or you wouldn't have THAT kid... and then all the things that hurt after her could be one event closer to that next person you wouldn't change for anything.  My deep thought for the year.  I'm so not an efficient texter.

Aside - Seriously.  Who SENDS text messages that long?  Sigh.

D - *Big Toothy Grin Face*

15 minutes go by.  Then, stupid, cute Doug changes his Facebook status to "Doug hopes to be able to use 'smooshy' in a sentence."

I HAD TO TEXT!  I'm sorry, but you people offer me no support at 9 pm.

S - Can you try not to be so awesome and sweet?  It keeps making me forget you're an idiot.
D - Hahahahahahahahaha!!! Dammit, I just choked on my drink of water.  Umm, I'll try to stop.  Be more idiot like.
S - Or ask me out.  Whatever.
D - Just sayin?
S - Just wishin.
D - *smiley face*
S - But only because you want to, not because you can't seem to say no to me.
D - LOL... but either way...
S - Either way you remain an idiot?  Is that how that finishes?
D - Yes, I remain an idiot.  One who smiles at poop stories, but an idiot nonetheless.  Hope you don't mind, I'm creeping you on Facebook right now... LMAO!  I gotta snap out of this idiot phase!!!  *Refers to one of my vids of The Girl* hahahaha

At this point, I write a very long text about how I have to take him off my Facebook, because when we started dating, I didn't assume he was "testing the waters" or "unsure he was ready to date" and so I just dropped it and just plain liked him... and so everytime he texts or interacts on Facebook I get this hot, hopeful feeling with a huge grin... and frankly, I don't want to hear from him until he wants to ask me out.

I delete it.

S - I just wrote an email via text and deleted it.  STOP BEING CUTE!  -the jist of it
D - Ok.  Sorry.  I'll stop.
S - It's okay.  Only 18 more weeks until you ask me out.  Trust me, the online dating thing, while amusing, is affording you a lot of idiot time.  Lots of "Your pritty" and "so wat do youdo 4 fun".  Its okay, you can laugh!  I do!
D - Hahaha.  Well, I do agree.  Your pritty.
S - Your hansome.
D - *smiley face*

The end.

This better have a Hollywood ending.

Have a Happy Hallowe'en!  I'll be drinking Saturday night at a costume party (an "Event" in my life) while The Girl is at her grandparent's home... let's all bow our heads and pray that "Drunk Text" is NOT the title of Monday's post.

Texting, Again?

Doug sent me a text again.  Guess what I did?






WROOOOOOOOONG!

I played it cool.  It damn near killed me, and I think I'm greying from the effort - but I DID it.  I'm STILL doing it... because trust me, I think about sending him a text about every 3 minutes.  Kind of like quitting smoking.  I'm sure Day 3 will be the hardest too.

He let me know camping in the rain was all worth it, that it's not much fun doing it alone, but that he DID have fun.

I want a virtual hug after you read what I wrote: That's a great message!  I'm really glad it was a good experience after all. *smiley face*

See!?  See what I did there?!  Not open ended!  Not trying to engage in conversation!  Go me!

OH!  I just allllllmost texted him while I reviewed my text reply for this post.  Almost sent him, "All warm and dry?"

Shite, this is tough NOT BEING ME. 


Sorry Don Draper... guess what's happening tomorrow?

Well... Since joining the gym about 2 months ago, I've only used the treadmill to run.  I work out on my lunch, because I don't have care for Shae, and I go three times a week.  My incentive was that at 33, I was looking at my CALVES and seeing cellulite.  I didn't think humans had fat cells on calves?  So, I resolved to run those MFers off.  *Sorry to be coarse, but seriously.  I felt strongly about those dimples.

About 2 weeks ago, I noticed my calves, thighs and butt are pretty much dimple free!  So, being a woman, I found something else to hate.  My sagging baby belly fat, and my jiggly upper arms.  Both not atrocious, but certainly worthy of some healthy, womanly self hate. 

But!  No way was I going to add more gym days to do weights!  That was my excuse.

Really though... I just had no idea what those freaking machines did, and really didn't want Rylan to come over and ask me "not to use the ab machine for weird butt thrusts", ya know?

So I kept heading to the treadmill.

But on my way out today... I asked Rylan if he wouldn't mind showing me how to use a couple of the machines.  It's on like Donkey Kong.  One on one time.  Full report will follow.  I can't POSSIBLY stay mute the whole time, right?  Eat it, Draper! 

I shaved my legs for it.  It's okay to laugh.

Texting Part 2

Crackpot science indicates that people with iPhones have more sex than BlackBerry users, so at least we've identified part of my issue.  Phewf.    Come January 15th, the 3 year anniversary, if I'm still SSMILF (sexless SMILF, c'mon....), I will invest in a gadget with batteries.

An iPhone!  Dirty readers!  Pay attention!

So, I had another text from Doug this morning.  I haven't had two days of texting in a row since the dating days... he'd text me a good morning every day.

Yes, I did over reply.  Yes, he did leave me hanging again.  Yes, I did text him tonight, and Yes, he did leave me hanging again.

And Yes, Angry MILF, I am picking up The Rules this weekend.  This strategy of mine... the one where I just like a guy and let him know, and he likes me back... I'm not sure that's working out for me.  So I'll play the game by The Rules. 

Who's picking it up for me?  Because it's going to be as awesome to purchase a self-help book on dating as it would be to plop a box of Canesten next to some Clearasil and a cold sore remedy, and offer your money to the 22 year old hot checkout guy you see in church every Sunday.  I might do it Saturday, in a costume mask, as if I were on my way to a Hallowe'en party.

Some really pointless BBM with Brett today... I'm sure if he hasn't suggested getting together by the next time I have my period, I'll BBM my pen pal and tell him to write away for some nuts.  For both of us.

Texting As a Form of Torture

I know, you're just dyyyyyyying to hear about Rylan.  Tough tittie.  I'm telling the Doug text story first.

DON'T you DARE scroll past this part of the post!  This is the guy that is too nice to simply go away.  I think.  That's my current theory.  I welcome input.

It's been about 6 weeks since Doug said he would ask me out in "6 months.  Tops." and every 2 weeks I get a nice smiley text from him, "Happy Thanksgiving!", and weekly he comments on my Facebook status with something adorable regarding The Girl.

Sunday night, I get this text:  "OMG.  The photos of u and The Girl are totally adorable!!!! What a handful she must be!!!!! *SMILEY FACE*

So, my little heart starts to beat fast, and I get a huge happy grin... because I'm an IDIOT WHO LOVES TO BE REFUSED.

Guess what SMILF does?

Starts asking about his job, and his life, and how he's been... anything to drag out the conversation... instead of simply saying, "Thanks.  Fuck off.  You hurt my feelings."

Skip about 10 text exchanges, and he tells me he's going camping this week, instead of an island in the sun with alcohol.

I say..."No alcohol, I guess that rules out drunk texts".

He says..."Meh.  I can sober text with drunken tendency????

Me... Lol... That's talent (I know, reader.  Fecking lame.)

Doug... Lol.  I try.

At this point, I opt to "phone a friend".  I BBM Jane, in Calgary.  All my spidey senses say, "DON'T TEXT ANYTHING ELSE.  Your pride depends on it."  Jane concurs.  I text anyway.  ARGH!  I could slap me.

SMILF... Well, I'll keep my toes crossed that you get bored and cold enough out there that you send me naughty texts.  Have fun!

AND THEN...

No reply.  I FUCKING HATE THIS GUY!

No, I don't.  I hate that I sent that last message, even though I knew not to.  I hate that it always seems I want what I can't have.  I hate that he's so nice and not mine.

Anyhow.  That's that story.


Today, I walked into the gym with my mouth full of "Hey!  You didn't call me Saturday!" for Rylan.  Swallowed it.

He was talking to a gym bunny.  He looked up and said, "Hi SMILF!  You're early, no?".  I said, "No.  I'm actually a little late."

That's it.  He wasn't at the desk when I left.


Brett did some BBM today.  Nothing titillating to report, so that's all I'll say on that.  No plans to meet.  Should I ask him out?  Do any men ask women out anymore?  Did that change while I was on mat leave, and I missed the memo?  Did the balls fall off all men?  Why am I trying to grow a set?  I'm a DAME!


Headed over to my MSN icon to sign in and see if Theo's around.  Maybe I'll ask him to webcam and confirm he has nuts.  Edit to add - I deleted him.  He wasn't online, but he was on POF.

AND edit to add... tonight I got this email from "Roof God".  "Hi there i have a nice smile."

Looooooooove it.  Thanks for sharing.

The Weekend Update

This is gonna be a long one.

I don't like blonde jokes.  Even if I've never heard it before - it's obnoxious.  Fellers - do not try to woo a blonde with a blonde joke - "Your pritty, and HEY!  Here's a joke that lets you know I think you're sort of stupid, too!  My kinda gal!".  Note photo:  it's naturally blonde.  I'm not laughing at your joke.

You almost had me!  Then you opened your mouth one time too many!  That's the current theme of POF.


So... blew it Friday with Rylan - AGAIN.  Position as life coach - still open.

Walked into the gym Friday, and Rylan hollars, "Hey, SMILF!  You sign up for the raffle yet?"

"Nope.  But I LOVE free stuff... what do I win?"

"No idea.  It's still to be decided."

Weird.  But whatever... I take the ticket he hands me.  Rylan says, "Write your name and number, and I'll call you on Saturday!"

Then he waggles his eyebrows.

This is how out of touch I am with the dating world:  I think he's telling me the draw is on Saturday, and maybe I'll win.

So I say, "GREAT!", and proceed to complete the ticket with my name and WORK NUMBER, and saunter off to the change room.  There, as I'm tying my shoes, it occurs to me that it's another SMILF Fail.

On the way out he popped his head out of the office to yell, "Bye SMILF!"... and I yelled back, "Bye Rylan."

Using his name feels ballsy.  Would you believe I've known it since he signed me up for the gym 2 months ago, and have never once used it. 

IF, and I think we all know this is a hypothetical and not likely to be the case Monday, but IF I grow a "set" between now and the time I walk through the door, the plan is to say, "Hey!  You didn't call me Saturday!"

This is important:

Do NOT hold your breath.

As I was mulling my idiocy... I realized - it's been TEN YEARS since I picked someone up sober or offline, on my own.  I'm used to dating sites, or being obviously hit on and asked out, or set ups.  No wonder I'm braindead.

As for Brett... we spent ALL weekend, up to about the middle of Saturday Night Live on BBM.  He's not really flirty.  He's just chatty.  We've still never met, and he hasn't mentioned it since I mentioned us meeting this coming week.

Here's the thing.  We were chatting about music and totally innocent stuff all night Saturday, when at the end of the night, he says, "I think I'm going to bed... or driving to your house for a back rub"...

DOUBLE-U TEE EFF?

I am not a prude.  I LOVE booty calls in a relationship... keeps it fresh.  We are not IN a relationship.  We hadn't even flirted via BBM.  WE HAVEN'T EVEN MET.  And I'm tired at the time.  So I immediately jump to... what a pig.

I reply with, "Yeah, no.  I definitely would never invite a stranger into my home at midnight, ever, let alone with my kid here.  Try asking me out for something tamer first?"

No reply.  I go to bed.
 
In the morning, I think... ya, I'm pretty sure there should have been a winky face on his message.  I've been talking to him for a week and had no "creep" vibe.  I feel bad.

Sunday morning, I message - "I really have enjoyed talking with you.  I assume you were joking last night - I was tired, sorry I snapped!

He only replied, "I totally was kidding".  That's it.  From a guy that has been messaging me nonstop for a week.  I instigated a lighthearted message a few hours later, and only got a "haha".  I went back to Frogs.  I think I blew it.

Chatting on MSN, as I write this, with Theo, a POF guy.

This post is really long, and I need to go to bed and grow the needed "set" for tomorrow.  I think I'll post tomorrow about the texts from DOUG this weekend.  Seriously.  You'll have to come back tomorrow to read about how Doug dangled his adorableness in front of my nose again.  And didn't ask me out.

Driveby

It's 915, and my kid is still awake.  This is dire.  She's not even yawning.  She's not even CRANKY.  Can't post...  must parent... okay, a quickie.

Somehow, Brett is on my Facebook?  How did I end up adding him?  It is inappropriate for a SMILF to add someone they've never met, and no one knows, to FB, right?  There's pics of my kid on there!  FA-RIG! I suck at this.  We did much BBM today.


I said Hi/Bye to Rylan... he failed to notice he had not seen me in a week.  Thinking he's just a good employee.  Gotta go.  Must list child on Kijiji.

Sooooo...

I've found my dream guy... and his name is Liz Lemon.  I have a big girl crush.  If anyone knows Tina Fey...

I spent half the afternoon BBMing (BlackBerry Messenger-ing, for all you troglodytes... me, until about 2 months ago) with Brett.  Um... I don't know... he seems nice.  He tells me he's not a jerk, so that's something!  We're going to meet for lunch next week, we work sort of near each other.

Did I mention he's 30?  He assures me I'm not a cougar unless I show up in leopard, feed him Coors Light and try to take him home with me.  I checked, and subbing in zebra and Hoegaarden does not make me a cougar either.

Other than that, there's not much funny going on online.  I've exchanged emails with the teacher, and we may meet in the next week or two - though I think we may not... he doesn't seem very funny, and funny almost always equals cute to me.

Get to see Rylan today!  Whee!  I'll make sure I'm wearing non sticky lipgloss for the reunion makeout sesh.

Snooze

So, last night I gave my Blackberry pin to a guy from POF.  He's 3 years younger than me.  We're chatting on BBM RIGHT NOW.  I'll call him Brett.  He's cute, I think?  I put no stock in profile pictures... everyone picks their best one, right?  Plus, he could have no teeth.  He's not showing any.

Super lame post today!  Sorry!  Until Thursday my real job has me at a conference, so I won't be seeing Rylan until then - maybe he'll well up when he sees me and tell me how he thought he'd lost me, and confess his deep feelings?   Then we'll make out for 10 minutes while music swells in the background?

Oh geez.  I really need to lay off the romantic comedies.

My POF profile

To address all the positive comments from readers yesterday - have no fear, I'll keep trying.  If I quit, I swear I'll never date.  To jesslikesstuff - I'm WAY ballsier online, making opening a dialogue so much easier, plus, online it's evident, "SMILF LOOKING TO DATE"... and unless I wear a tee into the gym for Rylan, there's no way for timid ol SMILF to get that across to him with "Hi" and "Bye" being our only reliable conversations.  Do you know a good printer taking small orders?


Today's winner, from a 29 year old (I'm 33)... one line in my inbox:
danng for a white chick you got sum great curves 

Well, danng, for a "mixed race with black hair" you got sum great lines

Not.

Got an email from the teacher, and there's a couple guys I'm chatting with, no stand outs to report.  I'm getting good feedback on my profile when it's NOT emails like the above - since there's not much to report, I thought I'd let you read the profile and comment to your heart's content... Enjoy!

About Me

Hi!

I'm just starting out in the dating game as a single mom to a 2 year old. It's... different! Definitely happy and content with life as a mom, and have a good job I'm happy with... it makes dating less urgent somehow? Taking my time to find someone as awesome as the two of us :)

I like to write and read, bake and crochet. Hiking and the great outdoors are where I'd like to spend more time - I was raised in a small country town 3 hours from the GTA - and I'm still a country girl at heart... I even *gasp* prefer country music, though I'm down with the Dean Blundell Show too :)

I'm really looking for dating/long term... the 20's and casual hookups kinda gross me out - I like cute guys with nice smiles that doubt I mean it when I tell them I think they're hot because they don't see it :)
And being a gentleman goes a long way.

 

First Date

There would be coffee. And laughter. Or no second date :)

Spent The Weekend Frogging...

Seen on profile that contacted me:
If you message me.. Please no wh0res, I'm not 19 anymore!!!

So I did not respond.

What girl reads that and says, "Oh, I'm a total loose caboose... I guess he's not for me."  COME ON!  The only thing he's warning off are nice women.  Idiot.

Plenty of Frogs makes me feel really dirty.  You know how you've feel when you've been eating well, and you're in a pinch one morning, so you stop at McDonalds for the first time in 4 months and decide to get your old fallback, The Big Mac, big sized, and you eat it in the car and it TASTES. SO.  GOOD. and then you drop some sauce on your collar
*pause for air*
and you finish it quickly and after 5 minutes you just feel ashamed and queasy that you'd been doing so well with your diet and now FLUCK IT!  You might as well give up.  You feel greasy, and fat.  And horrid.  And hours later, you can still smell the burger from the spot on your collar and it makes you want to barf and reminds you of your shame all over again...


That's Plenty of Frogs.  Instant gratification from the messages that pour in, but it's all garbage.  And the email reminders from the site to your inbox saying you've got new mail later that day... that's the spot of sauce on your collar reminding you all day that you went there.


There's plenty of action, for sure.  I've only searched twice, and yet, my inbox is filled with messages.  99% of them are this message or a variation on it:

Your pritty 

Ew

I'm going to keep logging on, because if I stop, I know I'll just stop trying to be anything other than a mommy altogether.  I'm a little discouraged.  Plus, I do giggle regularly reading the profiles of men that think I might fall for them based on, "hey ur eyes r nice watdo you like to do 4 fun"

The Footnote, Doug, commented cuteness on my FB status this weekend.  Stupid nice guy.  I'm deleting him March 15th, 2011 if he hasn't asked me out again by then.  Remind me.

SMILF owt.

Joined: Plenty of Frogs

That's right, I'm over The Man Site, with all it's psychoanalysis that figures I'd like to date ugly, fat men that are plainly lying about their age, or hot, emotionally unavailable men that live 45 minutes away, or grown men that still refer to themselves as their highschool B Boy name, "G".  Yup, that's been confirmed, he's really "G".  None are working for me.

So, I joined a site many have recommended - Plenty of Frogs.  There are indeed many frogs there!  1.5 hours after posting a profile, 5 men had contacted me.  That's more than I had contact with in a WEEK on The Man Site, and POF didn't cost me a dime!  Since it's been established with the money I forked out to TMS that you don't always get what you pay for... I've got my fingers crossed.

Of the five messages - one, everydayman1, is SO HOT, but seems a tiny bit weird.  So... I'll likely keep corresponding with him.  That's how I roll, yo.  Another fella that messaged me, Teacher,  is cute and his profile is really attractive to me... but he lives an hour away.  I'm an import to the city from a small town... online dating is proving the old "you can take the girl outta the country...".  It's annoying.  There must be one cute, small town, city import living in the same postal code, right?  That's realistic, right?  Right??!?!

There's another cute guy I messaged - 45 minutes away... we'll see if he bites.  Rawr.

In other news, it was grey here today, and I had a blip of wanting to be asked out by the footnote, Doug.  I think it's what spurred the slumming on the free Frog site.   I'll send him a Thank You card if it works out.  Stupid, indecisive dink.  He's so dreamy.

See ya Monday, readers!

PMS-y Internet dating

For real... I should dodge The Man Site in the week leading up to, you know, that week... the one men only talk about with a wince and a pale face?  That one.  I'm a total bitch.  Let me recreate a question/answer from clever G.

G asks: Why are you on The Man Site? What are you looking for and most importantly are you really ready to date (now, ready for dating me is another question entirely :) )?    

SMILF replies: Seriously? Asking that question reeks of bringing baggage into a first date lol... I'm on The Man Site because I'd like to start dating again. I'm looking to meet people and get to know them if we seem to click, and yes, I'm really ready to date.

Oy, if we were drunk in a bar, I'd slap me!  Must focus on being flirty, fun me all weeks of the year.  Or get my readers to answer all questions 1 out of 4 weeks... hmmm, that could be pretty fun!

What I could have said:  I'm on The Man Site to meet YOU, G!  Silly man!  You're exactly what I've been looking for, and I could not be more ready to date you! 

Nope, I could not have said that and met my eyes in the mirror for at least a week.  It really does reek of baggage.  Oh well, moving forward, potential candidates will have to have a thick skin for P week... it's good to test the waters now, right?  That's what I'm telling myself.  Now where's my salty/chocolatey binge snack...

2 Years of MILFness

Today, The Girl turns 2.  I've been a SMILF for 2 years!  Well, that may be a stretch, I was a little chubby and mean looking for the first year.  I was tired.

To prove how grown up and observant of the world around her, this morning she pointed to a zit between my eyes and inquired, "Booboo, mommy?"  Out of the mouths of babes... comes the reason I kept my head down and just sorta waved at Rylan yesterday.  "Booboo" to you, baby, but that booboo is "I'd do her, but I wouldn't introduce her to the guys" to men.  You have much to learn, little one.

That's all I have for funny today.  Yesterday a friend lost his son to a brain tumor he fought for most of his little life.  I'm just so happy to have had two happy, healthy years with my baby.  I'm taking today to revel in the life of The Girl.  I'll get my SMILF on tomorrow.

Single MILF Thanks Giving

Well, it was a weekend at home with family for Thanksgiving.  If I had anything dating related to report after a weekend with family, I'd likely lose a lot of readers... and maybe gain some really pervy er, unsavoury followers.  Trust me, there's nothing to report there.

On The Man Site, I've just sent 3 questions to "G".  He's cleverly cloaked his own identity by NOT indicating his first name next to his photograph. Boys are dumb.  I won't assign "G" a fake name for you to refer to him by.  He's 36, no kids, a financial analyst... I'm hoping he does not refer to himself as "G" in real life.  Ick.

No word from Gord in 5 days... I let it slip that cats sorta gross me out. He has 2.  Whoops!

I've been thinking about all the wonderful things that come with being a Single MILF, just to remind myself why being single is not the end of the world.  Here ya go:

1. Single MILF's can fart/poo with the door open/rip a broken toenail off with her teeth whenever she wants, without a partner bringing it up after one too many beers at the neighbourhood street party.  *Note to self - when The Girl learns to tell stories about Momma, refuse social invites*

2.  I can anticipate, at the very least, ONE new sex partner!  Woot for new experiences!  Woot for love life positivifity!  Married MILF's can't do anything more than they've already been doing for the last 5 years of their marriage - close their eyes and pretend they aren't sleeping with their husband!  Oh, that's just me in long-term relationships?  Oops.

3.  Single MILF's make all the rules in their homes!  No inappropriate conversations in front of the children about how hubby always undermines your authority!  Hmmm, I suppose some Single MILF's have these on the doorstep at drop off, or over the phone... but not THIS MILF!  No man around at all!  So, I guess I waggle my tongue at some other SMILFs with this one...

4.  Single MILF's never step over a lounging, hockey game watching, gas machine to pick up his empty nacho plate and beer stein to wash up before his mom stops by to bring her baby boy his favorite baked good - which you, Married MILF, simply can't duplicate.  Ask your MIL, she'll tell you!

5.  I get all The Girl's snuggles.  No sharing!

6.  I can serve egg salad sandwiches and baked beans for dinner, and not fear being trapped in the same room that night with the man that ate them.  I can also do that 3 nights running, if I so choose, and not justify it to anyone!

7.  Not unique to SMILF's... all my thanks to The Girl, for putting the M in MILF for me.  I'm so blessed.  If I never hear "I love you" from another person in my lifetime, I'll be okay - I've heard it from The Girl.  That's a lot of love to give thanks for.

Yes, I did notice a heavy focus on farts in the "thanks givings" listed above.  I'm working on it.  Judgers.

The "Nothing to Report" Report.

Well, I have nothing current goin' on... Go me.  Haven't been to the gym yet and have no emails from Gord... I haven't logged on to "The Man Site" today, either.  Instead, I bought new yarn to crochet with - apparently I'm embracing to Single GrannyILF I'm sure to be one day.

I did log onto The Man Site last night, but got off (No!  Out of the gutter, reader!) after reading this on a profile in answer to the question, "What's one thing you're passionate about?"

Man Answer:  "Well, if I have to limit it to just ONE thing, I'd have to say I'm most passionate about diversifity".

Um.  I'll take a pass.  I just can't support your passion for diversifity.  In fact, I can't even type the word with a straight face.  It's never gonna work.

Gym day today- I'll be sure to get you up to speed on Tuesday.  It's Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada, so I'll be taking a three day break... unless something miraculous happens in the mean time.

Give thanks to someone you know for the blessings they bring you... See you Tuesday!

Hiring: One Manager

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The Current Match

Before I outline the new guy, Gord, there's something burning a hole in my mind, and I need to get it out, or I may die. Did I mention my flair for the dramatic? Hyperbole also makes me happy.

One of the terrible burdens a Single MILF must bear is the horror of having no one who can appreciate little things like stupid licence plates viewed after a particularly rancid day. So I will abuse my blog. The Girl is still decades away from being a good audience to anything other than a well timed fart and a short conversation about whodunit.

Seen: A lovely, white, BMW M3 with the plate "M3 CUTIE". Gag. I wanted to ram my Saturn so far up her cutie tailpipe... shoot me in my cutie vagina if my head ever gets that big - not my cutie head though, pretty (cutie?) please. Through the heavily tinted glass was a cougarish, chubby woman with frosty highlights in her fake, blonde hair. Super cutie.

Why does it bother me?  Well, how many years away am I from moving to a plate on my car from a blog with the self assigned title "MILF"?  You can see why I got so worked up...

Anywho... back to Single MILF dating. Thanks for listening.

My current match is "Gord". He's a carbon copy of my last "I followed the Grateful Dead for years, I'm vegan, I have long, grey hair I'm clinging to, and I know how to use a camera." We had SER.I.OUS.LY amazing sex. I think that's what draws me to Gord - the similarities must continue, right? He lives 45 minutes from me (what is with that - all the One's live away!), hiked the Bruce trail last week, writes run on sentences (match!), and you can almost smell the ganja he smokes to have his deep thoughts by...

We've emailed a couple times. His last one came in yesterday, and I still have not replied. My last "Gord" was not a good match in anyway other than the sack. I hesitate. Maybe tomorrow night I'll feel like it.

I've closed so many really ugly matches this week, it's almost making me feel shallow. Almost. Must go preen - it's a Rylan, er, gym day.

What The?

In January, it will be 3 years since I had sex. THREE. YEARS. Old me would have laughed and pointed fingers at new me. Old me would blame every black look and bad day someone in new me's position on a need to get some. Old me would have never let this happen. New me hates old me, a little. Maybe because old me was dating. Old me had prospects. Wait! New me has prospects! Or does she?

Three years is long enough to forget how to ride that bike, or keep you off that horse you fell off. I think there's a guy that thinks I'm cute? <--- that question mark there... that's the 3 years talking.

About a month ago, I joined a gym. I wasn't overweight, but I was (am?) flabby. Sitting on your butt in front of a computer every evening, and 5 days a week for the last 2 years at my desk will do that. Now, three times a week I trudge around the corner to a gym to run on a treadmill, or, as I call it, sweat like a middle-aged, 400 lb man in full view of strangers. It's hot - and I do only mean core temperature hot.

Anyway... when I registered, there was this adorable guy signing me up, Rylan. Rylan has some small visible tattoos and a nice smile... and I'm a sucker for both. I'm signing up for the gym though - all I can think is, "Fuuuuuuck. I haaaaaate the gyyyyyyyym", and, "Fuuuuuuuuck, I haaaaaaad to wear this dress today, which prominently displays my tummy flab roll over my thong for Ryyyyylan to seeeeee. Fuuuuuuuck".

I swear a lot in my head, now that I can't swear in front of the kid... unless I want to hear again all week.

Turns out, Rylan is there at the desk every time I show go. He remembers my name. He asks how my weekend was. He jokes around with the admittance buzzer. He teases me about whatever he can seize on. We talk about running. I can't look at him without grinning... and he's always grinning at me. He's always making eye contact. Better than making eye to boob contact - or is it?

I don't know what this is? Wishful thinking? I'm sure it's his job to be friendly, but short of stalking the desk, I can't know if the undersexed me is making a good employee appear to be angling to asking me out. I'm so out of practice, I might next be thinking the nun in line behind me wants my number because she threw a benevolent smile my way.

Readers? What's my next move? Is he interested, or good at his job? I generally get REALLY flustered and say "Hi" and "Bye" and that's about all I can get out around the marbles in my mouth. What would you do?

First Fail

Oh, Monday. Only saved from me hating you today by the fire alarm at work going off… toyed briefly with faking a faint to see if I could get a fireman’s attention to kick start this dating thang… but alas, I was freezing my ass off and likely would have been trying to pick him up while snot streaked down my lip.

So, as promised, let me brighten your Monday and let you in on my first failure out of the gate!

The first hunky match, we’ll call him Doug, is a police officer living approximately 45 minutes from me. He’s divorced, no children, calls his dog his baby (blech, but whatever), is 6 foot, dark haired and has this FACE… it’s the smile that immediately says, “I’m a nice guy. I’m nice to my mom. I like to cuddle. You’re going to be so well loved by me. I’m also a stud in bed.” With a SMILE… that’s something.

I’m super excited to make his acquaintance and send him my first 5 questions as fast as my greedy little fingers can click. I’ve assigned him a fake last name in my head so that I can start doodling my new name post wedding.

We spend a month corresponding online, emailing every other day. He’s cute! He’s funny! He’s smart! He can spell words! He also NEVER asks me out, or offers his email or phone number. Being a little traditional (as much as a never married MOM can be), I wait and wait and wait…

I stop waiting. Seriously, I’m not looking for a pen pal! So, I propose coffee on a Friday night, and give him my email address and phone number. He emails, and we set up a date and place. I immediately go shopping for a “coffee date outfit” and start soliciting the opinions of everyone I know on which shirt I should wear.

Doug was… not what I expected? The downside of emailing is that I tend to assign a studly voice to studly photos… and his manner of speaking was slightly metrosexual. Not “not hot”, but not what I’d been hearing in my head for weeks. We laughed a lot though, and I thought I’d see him again.

He had told me he was a texter, and sure enough, we texted almost every day for the next month – went out 6 more times. Weird: we never kissed. We texted about it a lot – but he NEVER made a move. On our 4th date he told me that he was going slowly because 5 months prior a relationship of 2 years had ended, out of the blue, and she had cheated. I was cool with that, despite every person I knew saying “NO RED BLOODED MAN WAITS 6 DATES TO MAKE A MOVE!”

Note: No red blooded man waits 6 dates to make ANY move. Must remember. No action = no future.

I was the one doing all the asking out… and finally, I texted him one day and asked, “If I stopped asking you out, how long would it be before I saw you again”. His reply, “6 months. Tops.” *insert big, sad, blue eyed face here*

He sent me a lovely email full of flattery (*swoon/sniff*), that essentially said he can't believe how awesome he thinks I am, but that he still doesn't feel right dating. I'm calling it "the super nice guy brush off" email.

He’s still on my Facebook friend list. He comments on my photos or videos from time to time. I'm not sure if he is just TOO nice to cut me, because really, he seems ridiculously nice, or if he really is waiting to be "ready to date". I think I haven’t removed him because I’m waiting out the 6 months… sad -but sadly, true!

So that’s it in a nutshell – not giving too many details because frankly, he’s a footnote, right? Bring on a real man – ready for happy, and great in the sack! Woohoo! Footnotes sting, but I’m confident there’s another “one” waiting. Hopefully in the next week or so - I'm fairly impatient, and, I hear, getting bitchier the longer I go unlaid.

The Single MILF Strategy To... Date. Ha.

My strategy for meeting available men, post-kid, has been *gasp!* an online dating site. The site I chose asks you 3,480,982 questions (stops short of asking if you pick your nose and your preferred position... or did it? It was a long process.) and costs a fair bit to join, by a single MILF's standards. Seems reasonable to believe that paying a sum of money for an introduction - an electronic pimp, I suppose - would eliminate most men without jobs... a good starting point for me.

I didn't count on my feelings of overwhelming obligation to review every match, and the guilt associated with closing them, even the ones I had no contact with. Really, it's not much different than breaking the gaze of an overly friendly man at the supermarket - aside from the fact that at the supermarket, you aren't looking away because his T-shirt says he has 8 children already - the way a profile might. So perhaps it's a tad more judgemental when it's online. Meh. I'm sure there were many men closing me - in fact, I know there were. This site has a lovely feature that shows you who checked you out... letting me know every day how many took a pass. Nice. Build me right up, website. *flips mental bird to site*

Back to the sense of obligation - seriously, I work 8 hours a day, come home, let the dog out, start supper, let the dog in, feed The Girl, do the dishes, clean some (because if I don't clean a little bit every day, I'd be on a TLC show in no time), cuddle The Girl - who is DYING for some one on one by that point, do bath, lay out clothes, get The Girl to bed, shower, laundry?, pack lunch... and then spend an hour on communication with men I may, or may not like? Ohhhh tempting. Just felt like a chore. Until I saw my first "one".

You know. If you've ever tried online dating, it's the picture of the guy that has that smile that makes you smile, has a cute line about how he's a "softie", and you read the profile like, THIRTY times to look for the reason to close him, but don't find it. Yum. I love those. Those "ones".

More on him on Monday. It's the weekend. Wheeeee.

Me. The Single MILF. Hello.

My first post on my first blog. Whoa.

Not defining this blog, yet. Not sure what I'll be posting about, yet. Being Single MILF, yes. Funny? Maybe. Defeated? Maybe. Crabby? Maybe. Joyous? Maybe. We'll see.

Single MILFness is new to me. My daughter is about to turn two. Until this point, the bags under my eyes pushed my appearance into the "cougar" range, so I didn't bother trying to date. I'm happy to now call me a MILF - the kid sleeps a touch better than she did as a newborn and my bags are receding. Starting to think maybe I'll step out of my spitup clothes and back into push up bras and see what dating as a MILF might be like.

About me: In my earlyish 30's, never been married, never been close. Work full time. Feel like I've never felt before entering the dating world. Maybe it's being a mom, maybe it's my 30's... but I feel content, complete, happy... I feel like a flucking catch. We'll see if the world agrees!

When it's not 30 minutes past my bedtime, I'll update you on my first foray into dating - get you up to speed. In the meantime, I'll leave you with this soul crushing post I found mere minutes ago... it touches every horrid insecurity I have about striking out into the dating world with a two year old in tow. Enjoy!