Sunday, October 31, 2010
So now, on top of the suckage that automatically ensues in a breakup, I have the added guilt of potentially causing my child psychological trauma. Sure, anyone who knows me knows that I could never be truly happy forever with a man named Larry who lives on Bland Drive (no joke- and his dentist's name is Dr. Downer), but my kid doesn't understand that. All A knows is that he is around a lot, has really cool toys at his house, and has way more follow-through than Mommy when it comes to disciplinary action.
How do people do this? How the crap does this dating thing work with a kid? There are so many new levels (and it's not like dating wasn't hard enough before.)
The way I see it, here are the options:
A) Keep a steady stream of men around so that A is accustomed, but not attached (November Daddy, anyone?)
B) Settle for a man with good bone structure and a W2 (hey, I've done worse)
C) Give up entirely, -or-
D) Win the cosmic love lottery and have Mr. Right show up on my doorstep, sweep me off my feet, and turn me into one of those women who actually live in dual-income households (without making A get a job making Nikes or sewing for Kathy Lee's clothing line)