Friday, January 16, 2015

On Dating a Single Parent

Alright, so it's been about a month since I gave the single dad thing a go. I see him every once and a while. Let's see...ummmm...like five times. That 28 hour date, a Wednesday night, that 70 hour date, and this past Tuesday and Thursday. Which is strange considering that the Turk, who lasted about two months, but really only like 20 days in person, seemed so much more of something; so intense. (It's only since just this I've realized how incredibly different interactions between two people can be over the same amount of time. It's mind-boggling. But anyway...)

So we're four weeks into this and I'm not quite sure what to think, but there are definitely disjointed thoughts running through my mind. I'm already running into feeling like I'm competing with a kid. To which someone responded to my concern, "Well it's not a competition." Well no fucking shit because 1. I would never win and 2. I'm not trying to compete, it just feels that way. It feels like some sort of weird, unwanted rivalry, as I am vying for the same affections - well aware best I'll ever do is silver. This issue was brought up one night when he was suppose to come over and then the kid decided he wanted to go back to dad's from mom's and I got a, "Sorry, I can never say 'no' to him."

Well good god what am I suppose to do with that? On the one hand, I deeply admire him for being such a good and doting father, having missed out on that myself. On the other hand, as a single girl interested in a guy, I find it incredibly frustrating that I am not doted upon; that I'll always come second. And that's just being honest.

So lets continue with this sort of free-flowing what's going in my head and jot it down with the next hypothetical scenario that popped into my mind: What if I'm sick or hurt and I need to go to the hospital but he - in this completely theoretical scenario where he's something significant to me - can't take me because he's got his kid? I, in theory, then am dating a guy that can't take care of me because he's too busy taking care of his number one. 

I want to be able to need as much as I am needed. Isn't that the definition of a partnership? But then it occurs to me that if you are dating a single parent, you are always going to be needed more than your needs are fulfilled. You are always going to have to bend more than they bend; work around two needs instead of just one. It appears to be an incredibly uneven see-saw: Two people on one end hanging you high and dry on the other. Boris and Natasha versus Rocky sans Bullwinkle.

Even still, I'm trying to give this time to matriculate into the world of single parent dating. This all is still incredibly casual - although difficult to keep it feeling particularly casual based on the situation - but I have these thoughts and such, e.g.: How the fuck would this ever work?  And we haven't even gotten to the part where he's gone back to work yet and his work hours are all jacked up so then it's just work and kid ... and no girl - which could be the end in and of itself. A question I posed just last night: Just what happens then? Are we done when you being to work again?

"I don't know my schedule yet." Which my brain takes and translates - appropriately - to: Calm the fuck down, self - remember to be in the moment. And thus, it reminds me that one of the appeals of dating a single parent was that they don't have enough time to spend with me in order to get attached (because I'm fucking moving, damnit). Otherwise, if this went deep into dating territory as is, it would feel like I'm making all the sacrifices to meet the needs in his life. And what about me? Just because I don't have a child, doesn't mean I should have to sleep on a couch in the basement my needs are less important.

And so I remind myself it's casual - as casual as it can be working around the schedule of a seven year old. So right now I figure we still enjoy each other's company (despite seeing one another rarely.) And it's still winter and beds are still cold. And I, sort of unexpectedly, like to spend time with him - so there's that. And yet, with my silver medal, I can't fully identify with the satiated feeling of being a part time parent, and thus, also a part time lover. Instead, I am simply a part time lover; a woman of convenience - my most loathed place to be. And, to make matters worse, a position he doesn't seem to understand.

"What do you mean 'convenience," he asked as I broached the topic. And honestly, I don't even know where to begin explaining. And even if I tried, it would only ever make sense if I had a kid too (or he didn't.) And here lies the crux of the problem: Our lives force us to use separate playbooks; play by different rules. Single parent/childless single dating: It's hard. It would require understanding from both parties who can't possibly fully understand the other person's position. It's sacrificial and admirable and complicated and not easy and potentially totally worth it - and potentially totally not.