Mother of girls

My oldest son is going to the prom.

Not his prom, mind you.

He SKIPPED all of those when he was in high school.

It’s only now that he’s graduated, with a girlfriend still in high school that he’s decided to attend one.

Personally, I think she HOUNDED him to get him to go.

My son isn’t really into dancing or dressing up, two things that feature heavily at proms.

I feel like I should make him watch Pretty in Pink or something to prepare him for what proms are like.

Did I mention that this is a prom at my old high school?

Yes, so I know EXACTLY what’s in store for him.

Twinkle lights, tinfoil and tissue paper decorations, a tired DJ, the prom king and queen ceremony, all that stuff.

It’s making me nostalgic just thinking of it.

I kinda wish I could be a fly on the wall and go watch him.

The funny part of this is that I was contacted by his girlfriend, to tell me exactly what he needs to be prepared for the prom:

  • A navy bow tie
  • A navy cummerbund
  • And, of course, a CORSAGE

I went a little crazy ordering the corsage.

Something unique, I said. With a special wristband, not just the plain white elastic.

It MUST compliment the navy dress, I instructed the florist.

I went crazy to the tune of $45.

And we haven’t even shopped for his tuxedo yet!

I’m EXTRAORDINARILY happy he’s finally going to a prom.

It’s something that’s right up my alley and I think given my experience pulling together outfits, that he will be THE BEST LOOKING YOUNG MAN AT THE PROM.

It’s times like this that I realize I should have had a girl in addition to my boys.

I would have made an EXCELLENT mother of girls!

Thin walls

In addition to meeting The Swede’s YOUNGEST daughter, I also got to meet his ELDEST daughter.

And his parents.

It was quite an experience, although if I think back, I did introduce him to my sons and my parents when we were going to UnSCruz together.

Of course, with the language barrier, there was only so much communicating we could do.

Most of our interactions consisted of them feeding me and me saying “tack” or “thank you” in Swedish.

His mother cooked THE MOST AMAZING PORK LOIN for dinner one night.

I’m used to pork turning out dry and in desperate need of gravy.

But this was OUTSTANDING.

I tried to communicate my appreciation.

“Thank you very much,” I said in Swedish.

His parents home was like something out of a dream – a fairytale cottage with an explosion of Christmas decorations inside.

I sneaked a picture of The Swede as a little boy.

And one of his youngest daughter in pigtails.

Too cute for words.

As we were going to bed (in a bed only SLIGHTLY LARGER than a twin bed), The Swede began to chat with his father in the room next door.

Through the walls.

All my plans for nookie disappeared.

When you can hear your neighbor that PERFECTLY, there’s no space for fooling around.

I may be horny but I’m not disrespectful.

In praise of men with daughters

I have a couple unprofessional observations I’ve made while dating.

Do not date men who are 45+ who have never been married or had kids.  They tend to be hard to please and uncompromising.

Do not date men who haven’t been divorced longer than 2 years.  They tend to avoid commitment.

Do not date men with a full online dating portfolio of pictures of themselves.  They tend to be self absorbed and vain.

On the flip side, I noticed something that I do appreciate in the men I date.

Daughters.

Yes, men with daughters I have noticed are more compassionate and more patient than men without daughters.

I’ll give you an example:

I was so excited about my upcoming trip to Sweden that I got a Swedish manicure – completed with yellow and blue nail polish and the Swedish flag.

As a woman, I was totally jazzed about my manicure.

So jazzed that I texted The Swede.

Instead of just blowing me off or laughing at my girlishness, he was kind and let me prattle on about my nails.

He even told me they were cool!

I attribute his sensitivity to the fact that he has two daughters and knows how to accommodate the female into his life.

Some men don’t know what to do with it.

And though it’s going to sound awkward coming at the end of a post where I talk about The Swede, without actually admitting anything, I just want to say that I sincerely hope that I wind up marrying a man with daughters.

If for no reason than I find that kind of sensitivity VERY APPEALING.

‘Nuf said.

So I met Joe

Joe is handsome and funny.

Not exactly the tallest guy I’ve ever met, but still can hold his own in a showdown with me in 4” heels.

Joe is a diver and it excites him that I am a Rescue Diver.

Of course, he doesn’t know I haven’t dove in years because of that panic attack I had underwater caused by blood pressure changes in a too tight wetsuit hood.

Joe called me up and we chatted for a little while.

He is keen to go out and I was kind of excited too.

He’s got daughters after all and Lord knows I want to wind up with a man with daughters.

All on account of I have none of my own.

In so many ways, Joe seemed PERFECT for me.

Daughters. Adventurous spirit. World traveler. Funny.

So I showed his profile to Barbara, just to see if he could get the BARBARA STAMP OF APPROVAL.

Barbara is probably the toughest of all my friends to approve the men I date.

She’s not called The Hammer for nothing.

LOL

And that’s when it happened.

I glanced at his profile and saw “Separated” as his marital status.

As in STILL FUCKING MARRIED!

Jesus F. Christ!

Nevermind.