“A real man does not shoplift the “pooty” from a single mom.” ~ Rod Tidwell
I was always wary of dating single moms. Whenever I put my preferences on a dating website one of my preferences was “no kids.” Let me point out that I never not dated anyone because they were a single parent. It’s just a preference. I prefer brunettes but that doesn’t mean I didn’t date blondes.
I was different than her dad. I was, not to insult him, more masculine and more physically active. I did things her dad didn’t do and that peaked her interest.
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One reason I was cautious was because I didn’t want to deal with someone else’s kid. As mommy’s boyfriend, you have no authority over someone’s child. And, there are some bad ass kids out there. “Uhh, I’m pretty sure your mom specifically said not to do the very thing you are doing right now.” I got a “who the eff are you” look from the kid and she continued to do whatever bad ass thing she was doing.
There are three females from my life that, when I reunite with them in my dreams, I wake up in tears. My grandmother, my godmother, and my ex-girlfriend’s daughter.
I met Alexis (not her real name) just before her third birthday. Her parents had just split and I, for some dumb reason, immediately filled the gap for the male role in her mother’s life. Alexis, however, didn’t have a need to fulfill an absence of a male figure in her life. She had one, her dad. Who was a hell of a guy. He was super sweet to his little girl and spoiled her to death. He insisted that we meet right away. I didn’t blame him, though I would have been more than happy to pass. It turned out we kind of liked each other. We never went out for a beer or anything but he was a good guy.
With no need for a daddy, I didn’t attempt to be one. On the weeks we had her, we would go to a movie or to the park. Mainly, I just waited for Alexis’s nap time so mommy and I could quietly have sex or I waited for Sunday evening when Alexis’s dad would come get her and then mommy and I could have not so quiet sex.
But without even trying I took the role as a male role-model in her life. I was different than her dad. I was, not to insult him, more masculine and more physically active. I did things her dad didn’t do and that peaked her interest. Whenever I did stuff like work in the yard, shoot my bow, or train outside in the back yard, Alexis was there, intrigued and wanting to help, take part, or in the least, just watch.
I found myself helping make impactful decisions in her life like, “If she don’t want to fucking go to dance class, then don’t make her!”
I took the role as disciplinarian too. By that, I mean I enforced what mommy said. Mostly by saying, “What did mommy say?” I also said “no” a lot. I basically came to the defense or in support of her mother. I got mean looks at first. The wrinkled eyebrow and scrunched nose with tears in her eyes – kind of a mean look. She was used to getting away with stuff and testing the limits with her mother but not with me around. I had mommy’s back. Eventually, (for the most part) she learned the rules of the house. One rule, really. Mommy was the boss.
I always thought I wanted to have a mini me, a boy. I had even tried to figure out which grandfather I wanted to name him after, Ramón, my mother’s dad or Sylvester, my dad’s dad.
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We had our share of compromises. Though technically not in charge of the TV, she was in charge of the TV. However, I was the man of the house and liked TV too. So we had to find something that we both would watch and was age appropriate. I found myself ridiculously happy the day she sat in front of the TV and watched The Clone Wars animated series with me. When it came to dance parties, if I was gonna dance, I got to pick the music (most of the time). So we got to dance to Cumbia and Salsa music as well as some Marvin Gay, “Got To Give It Up.”
“Mommy, I love Dave.” That’s me. I’m Dave. I was a little embarrassed at the time. It felt a little awkward but obviously it had an impact on me. Later, my girlfriend told me that Alexis’s dad said that he could tell that I loved Alexis. “I can see it,” He told her. “They way he plays with her, the way he is with her. I can see that he loves her.”
I always thought I wanted to have a mini me, a boy. I had even tried to figure out which grandfather I wanted to name him after, Ramón, my mother’s dad or Sylvester, my dad’s dad. I actually came to the decision of David, my dad’s name. Then, the year that I met Alexis’s mom, I started having these visions and seeing signs. I saw myself having a daughter, not a boy. I would see a father and daughter at the grocery store or at the park. While bouldering at the gym one day, a little girl said to her father, “Daddy wait for me,” as she climbed up to the top of the boulder where her dad was waiting. That’s what I want! I thought.
So when Alexis came into my life I felt like I had gotten what I wanted. Part time anyway, which was cool with me. No need to jump into it with both feet.
I’ve seen her twice since the break up in 2014. I happened to move to the same part of town her grandmother lived. I saw her once at the coffee shop and then again at the park. She was so happy to see me. I got hugged and kissed. She just thought I had moved out, I guess. She didn’t know about the final fight her mom and I had. How we blocked each other from social media and didn’t want to have anything to do with each other anymore. She just knew that I was there at the park and the cafe, that I was Dave, and that she loved me.
Originally Published on ThePrimitiveYou.com
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