The Married Dating Woman
Yesterday, I was driving Sassy and her friend to preschool when I heard Sassy whisper to her friend, "My Mommy is dating someone else's husband." I nearly wrapped my car around a telephone pole.
I most certainly am not!
"What did you say?" I asked her.
"Nothing," she blurted out way too quickly.
"No, seriously, what did you say?" I asked her again.
"No seriously, nothing," she said.
And then her friend said, word for word, exactly what I thought Sassy had said.
"Sassy, why would you say that?" I asked her.
She said nothing. Until we pulled into the parking lot and were getting out of the car. That's when she quietly whispered the same thing to her friend again.
"Sassy Middle Name Last Name! Do not say things like that! They are certainly not true! Mommy doesn't 'date' anyone. I am married to your Daddy!"
She gave me a look like "Yeah right" and I contemplated NOT taking her into preschool. I don't exactly want her spreading this ridiculous nonsense around. Soon I'll be the preschool pariah mom, which is not exactly what I had in mind.
After I dropped her off, I called Mr. BBM and told him what Sassy had said.
"Did you ask her who you're dating?" he said laughing.
"No, I didn't even think of that. I was too shocked that she would even say something like that and more than once!"
A couple week ago, my Mom took Sassy out for donuts. It was during their breakfast that Sassy leaned across the table and said "You know, Mommy and Daddy broke up. They totally did." My Mom was completely shocked and then assured Sassy that was not the case. It didn't stop my Mom from telling me about it and asking me what was up later in the day. I mean people are doing these whole "undivorce" things. Anything is possible these days. I assured my Mom that Mr. BBM and I had not broken up and that Sassy probably overheard a conversation we were having a few days prior with Big I. She had asked if we had even broken up and we told her about the 24 hour period we had broken up one time in college, before Mr. BBM came crawling back to me (I like that part). She is the master of eavesdropping and misconstruing things.
So I picked Sassy up from school and got her buckled in and popped the question.
"So, Sassy, remember how you said Mommy is dating someone's husband?" I asked her.
"Yeah," she said, "you are" she added for emphasis.
"Well who do you think I'm dating?" I asked her.
I expected her to mention my neighbor. The two of us had taken our combined four kids out to eat one night when we were both single-parenting one night. We spent the night talking in half sentences thanks to multiple interruptions and trying not to step on the thousands of popcorn shrimp that made their way onto the floor. It wasn't exactly date worthy. Then again, we're both married and were in parenting survival mode, so I doubt that ever crossed either one of our minds. We are friends and we were hanging out, the same way I went to dinner and was hanging out with his wife and kids the week before.
So I was especially shocked when Sassy said, "You're dating that swim coach's husband. You know, Big I's coach, that older one? You're dating his husband."
He happens to be a straight, married man. I've spoken to him on exactly two occasions.
I called Mr. BBM and told him he better call a divorce lawyer. Clearly, I have issues. Serious, serious issues.
And I'm about to be the pariah of both the preschool AND the swim team. I now totally understand those sticky granola bar commercials where they're feeding the kids to keep them quiet. I need to get me some of those stat.
Where does she get this stuff?
To Swing Or Not to Swing
Today, I've been married for 12 years. We've been together for 16 years. After being together for that long, sometimes you just want to try something new, to reintroduce some excitement back into the relationship.
Last night, we had dinner at a nice restaurant where I ate filet and sipped a lovely glass of wine while Mr. BBM talked to me and watched the Phillies game when I wasn't looking. (I was looking.) Today, we thought we would have a relaxing family day and it ended up that we had five kid girls in the house, including our own two for much of the day. I spent time grading an endless stack of papers while cursing myself for not playing Greg Jennings in my fantasy league. Mr. BBM spent much of the day following my orders for how to cook the wings and potato skins that made up our oh-so-healthy dinner.
It was after dinner that Mr. BBM suggested something a little different. He suggested we swing.
At first I was shocked. I mean, "What responsible adult does this kind of stuff? Especially after dinner!" What was he thinking?
And then I thought that I should just go with it and give it a try.
I have to admit that it was pretty fabulous (and I am about a thousand times better at it than Mr. BBM, clearly). . . but it can also make you feel a little nauseated. I think this is just about as adventurous as I'm willing to go.
Conversations with the Husband
Yesterday, I came home from swimming lessons and told Mr. BBM, "Oh, by the way, my friend is coming tonight to do body work on me and a neighbor at around 7:30."
Mr. BBM: He's coming here?
Me: Yeah. Isn't that cool?
Mr. BBM: Wait, so let me get this straight. . . you're going to be naked and getting a rub-down from your friend, in our house, while I'm here with the girls.
Me: Yeah, it's not like I'm going to set up in the family room or something! And it's not like I'm totally naked! Geez!
Mr. BBM: All you wear is underwear, right?
Me: Well yeah, but I'm under a sheet the whole time.
Mr. BBM: Ok, so where are you going to have him set up?
Me: Well, I was thinking up in our bedroom. There's a lot of room up there and then I can let him use the stereo I have in the bathroom for the music.
Mr. BBM: Ok, so wait, naked, getting a rub down, in our house, with a single guy, in our BEDROOM?
Me: Fine, I'll set it up in the playroom where there are no blinds.
And that's just what I did. So to anyone who might have been walking behind my house last night, while my neighbor and I were getting naked rub downs/legitimate body work, "you're welcome" or "our apologies" depending on what part/s you might have seen or not seen.
A Unique Icebreaker Among New (and Young) Friends
Last week, four neighbor friends and I went to see the premiere of Eclipse. We also went to a pre-viewing party where we won some swag bags and prizes. We drank Edward, Bella and Jacob themed martinis while there. Team Edward rocks for more than one reason people, not just because he's a deliciously hot and intense vampire. He is the muse for one of the best martinis I have ever tasted!
After the movie, in the IMAX theater, where we each ate our own bucket of popcorn (a bucket with Jacob, Edward and Bella on it), we decided it was way to early to end a great girls night out. So we decided to wash down our buckets of popcorn with some beverages at a nearby bar.
We had an absolute blast, especially because we were sitting with the brother of one of my friends who just so happened to be celebrating his 22nd birthday. At one point I realized that I was hanging out with boys who are the ages of some of my students. That sort of weirded me out a bit, but I tried to just focus on the fact that I wasn't quite old enough to have birthed any of them. That made me feel better. . . slightly.
Because it felt a little like a junior high dance (boys on one side; girls on the other), I decided it would be more interesting and introductory if we went around the table and said our name and something interesting about ourselves (or as some of my incoming freshman said in their placement essays, "ourselfs").
The boys started and went around the table. I realized I was sitting beside a student who goes to my alma mater, Pitt. We high fived and talked about cool hang outs in Pittsburgh. He mostly just told me that all my old haunts are no longer there or no longer cool, but it was still fun. As we went around the table, we made up some interesting nicknames for people which added quite a bit of laughter and delay to the whole event. For some reason, I thought the one guy's name was Steve when in fact it was Eric. I'm not quite sure how I messed that up, but he will forever be Steve from now on.
When we got to me, I said my name and some of my friends chimed in that I'm a black belt. But that wasn't my interesting fact to share. Instead, I pulled up my capri pants and revealed my Franken-knee, complete with nasty bruising and sticking-out-of-the-tibia screw. And then something funny happened. Instead of everyone cringing, covering their eyes and backing away in disgust and horror, the guys all leaned in about two feet each and eagerly reached out while asking if they could please touch it!
I let them all feel the protruding screw. Man, talk about an ice-breaker. More like a skin-breaker but whatever. In exactly two weeks, my party-trick Franken-knee will be history. Although it certainly breaks the ice with 22-year-olds, I can't say I'll really miss it. I'll just have to figure out something else interesting about myself. Perhaps I'll teach myself how to text with my toes. Ah, now that will really get them.
A Snowy Public Service Announcement
All week long, Mr. BBM was warning me that my birthday plans for tonight were going to be ruined. They called for a foot of snow but I wasn't buying it. "It will probably only be a couple inches," I told him. However, when I woke up this morning there was an insane amount of snow.
Still, I was hopeful. And then the Governor declared a state of emergency and I'm guessing that traveling to the local nightclub does not count as an "emergency" need to be on the roads.
The whole family went outside to shovel and play in the snow. Lil C had a bit of an issue with staying on her feet.
I shoveled for a while as I enviously stared at my neighbor's with snowblowers and shot them pleading, begging looks. . . Apparently they didn't notice.
Mr. BBM and I took turns on and off and then he disappeared and I almost died finishing the sidewalk.
When he brought the girls back from sledding in the park, Lil C had done several face-plants and Mr. BBM took her inside.
Then he came out to resume shoveling and started having chest pains. . .
But I was kind of busy. . .
There's a moral to this story somewhere. When I figure it out I'll let you know.
Oh, and in case you didn't notice, I am no longer blonde after my 2.5 hour hair appointment yesterday. BBM is now offically dark and mysterious.
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