I'm *not* dating. In fact, I'm actively *not* dating. Because I'm all busy getting self-actualized and doing yoga and all kinds of other zen-building shit that frankly annoys the hell out of me. (I know, right - I just scream 'girl dripping with inner radiance and self-actualization'!). And because I'm actively *not* dating, hot butches are falling down and raining down from the sky all over the place and I can't stop thinking about dating. Because, dear friends, that Murphy dude is a total bastard. Anyhoooo - here are some fab pointers on how to, and, and perhaps more importantly, how not to, attempt to date a hot queer single mama, for the benefit of all the hot-queer-single-mamas out there that might, in fact, be dating. From the point o' view of yours truly...
1. Do not, under any circumstances, open with "Ohhhhh - I just LOVE kids, maybe we could all hang out sometime." Or "I've always wanted kids, maybe we could all hang out sometime." This is creepy. And weird. And also creepy-weird. Not that I'm doubting anyone's love of children. Hey, I generally like 'em too. But you aren't trying to pick them up, you're trying to pick their hot mama up. And trying to pick someone up through their kids? Strategically questionable move.
2. And yes - we do come with kids. Thems are just the facts. But please don't assume you get to meet them. Because between you, me and the lamp-post, you're not going to (unless you stick around for quite a long time and very seriously prove your mettle). Because the thing is this: dating is dating. You can choose to bow out anytime and we can choose to bow out anytime and as a theoretical grown-ups, we get to deal with that eventuality when it arrives. But those little dudes both notice and feel a loss when people drop in and out of their life. And it's really not fair to expect them to get caught up in the cross-fire. (My biggest and most important job in this life is to protect them and their little wonderful hearts. Always has been and always will be. This point could alternatively be titled: "If You Wanna Be My Lover, You're Not Getting Near My Kids," with the insertion of appropriate Spice Girls tune-age. But somehow that made me seem less approachable ;)).
3. Don't expect to come first. Jesus - we don't even get to come first! Someday - maybe. But this is a very distant someday. A someday when we get to pee by ourselves and the cozy blankets (currently otherwise occupied in forts) are returned to our living rooms and we don't stumble around at night swearing because we stepped on stray Lego.
4. Don't get bent out of shape if we have to cancel because of some daycare related gross ailment. We are not making it up. For real. Daycare is the most disgusting and germy place on earth.
5. Don't treat us like a proverbial hot potato when you hear the word 'kids.' We know kids aren't all that super-popular in the queer set. We get it. But the hot potato move and the glazed over eyes makes us feel, you know, yucky. And besides which, you're probably not gonna get to meet them anyways - so no worries, right? And yes, we *do* talk about the small fry. They're a huge part of our day-to-day lives and worries and joys. And they're pretty rad, if we do say so ourselves. BUT - we also very likely know how to talk about other things. Many other things. Like you know politics and theory and art and other worldy things. We might even be kinda witty and funny sometimes. At least I am. You know, clearly. And - added bonus - I'm a total MILF (she writes, tongue-firmly-ensconsed-in-cheek).
6. If you do get lucky enough to come over for some freaking fantastic conversation and a bottle of red, our house will be messy. It just will. Don't judge. Yours would be too if you were us. It really would.
7. Don't assume we want to settle down with you. Really. Don't assume this. (Just because I'm a single mama doesn't mean I'm looking for a butch-in-shining armour. I'm remarkably self-sufficient. Moreover, I'm not looking for a co-parent. I already have one.)
8. Get to the point. We don't have time or energy for games. Like, really. Not a stitch of extra time. Similarly, We probably don't have time for wishy-washy or hem-haw-i-ness. Speaking for myself, if I was to actually articulate all of the balls I have in the air at any given moment, most grown-ups would cry. No time, I'm telling you. Good-honest-straight-talkin'-cut-to-the-chase-ness is totally where it's at with the single-mom set. It's all kinds of hella hawt. Please take my word for this.
9. Finding a sitter is bleeping hard. And bleeping expensive. And most of the time, we're pretty bleeping broke. It's a thing. (If you wanna go dutch, we might be dating at Denny's or cooking at home. I'm down with that if you are. If you aren't - well - the single mama set probably isn't for you.)
10. Let's take a moment to talk about tantrums. You *will* be put in a time out, like the bad girl/boi you are. 'Cause we really got that shit covered.
11. We don't want to mother you. We spend enough time mothering. 'Nuff said.
12. There is no such thing as mom-underwear. Unless by mom-underwear you mean hot-assed lingerie. You are confusing us with grannies.
13. We *do* however, possibly own a set of mom-wheels. Especially if we have more than one babe. So if you're a car snob.... look elsewhere.
14. We can't fly by the seat of our pants and be all spontaneous and fun stuff like that. We have to plan around playdates and custodial days and school schedules and kid-activities. On top of our own shit. We gotta make our plans in advance. Just how we roll, folks.
15. We really aren't so scary. (Small caveat - I am actually super freaking scary). But the rest of us are generally pretty harmless.