Comparisons (Dating as a Single Parent IV)

Thoughtfulness is a big deal to me. Great wads of money aren't necessary. Taking the time to listen to what someone needs and then helping them find that, means so much more.

I've mentioned before that Pickle is allergic to dairy protein. It's not been anywhere near as difficult as I'd initially imagined. But it does mean I have to read labels constantly as you'd be amazed at some things that dairy can turn up in - I've found it in everything from sausages to hummus.

On an earlier coffee date, BigTed took me to one of the local coffee shops I'd yet to try (brownie points) then led me to a nearby shop called Nana's Kitchen. Just to check if they had dairy-free Easter Eggs for Pickle.

So when Sparky invited Pickle and I out for a picnic, then the day of taking us, asked me to sort Pickle's lunch as there was a specific bread he wanted to buy for lunch and he "didn't want to check if it had milk in it", didn't bode well. I had, in fact, already made Pickle's lunch along with snacks for the day, as this is what a Mummy of a kid with allergies does. But...

So onto the inaugural evening date with BigTed that I'm sure you've all been chaffing-at-the-bit to find out about (of course you're all living vicariously through my dodgy love-life)...

My lovely friend Deb, arrived early to play with Pickle so he knew she was there, and we went through the bedtime routine which fortuitously was a breeze. I madly dashed around doing hair and make-up having previously checked with a *ahem* number of stylish friends on which dress option to go with (thanks Mikey, Katy, Liam and Brett). Accessorised with fabulous jewellery, bag and amazing, ridiculously high and glamorous shoes (of course). I honestly haven't been this nervous about getting ready for a date in yonks.

And then BigTed arrived. With a spray of orchids. Oh. Em. Gee.

I didn't know where we were going for dinner. So I was pleasantly surprised when we pulled up in front of Aegean Waters, Hervey Bay's French restaurant. I love Paris. It's my favourite city in the world, a fact that BigTed had obviously latched onto somewhere during dates one to six.

We ordered escargot to start and mandarin duckling for mains (delicious) and split a chocolate mousse for dessert. I'm a foodie, I eat on dates. No apologies.

The snails and duck were both new discoveries for BigTed, but he happily leapt in (a hugely appealing attribute) and loved them both (ridiculously satisfying for me, especially as it wasn't me cooking).

We went for a drive along the foreshore, stopped at a scenic spot and... Talked. Hah, had you there for a minute didn't I?! Yes, we'd been talking over dinner. But it was more relaxed and since we're not teenagers, it would be a bit contrived to be snogging in a car, surely?

BigTed asked if he could show me his house (don't get ahead of yourself, where did it get you last time?!) where he did eventually kiss me. It was great. I may have wondered - out loud (Freudian slip?) - what had taken him so long... And then he took me home again. Well, maybe not immediately, but that didn't happen, he was an utter gentleman and there was no presumption, which was really nice and terribly appealing.

I may have dissected the date with Deb when I got home. Not least because she was a little surprised I was on my own. There will be an 8th date! I may even stop counting them.

So how do you break-up with someone (Sparky) that you haven't even held hands with?

Cheers, KangaRue :)

A Good Sport

I made a bet that if the NSW Blue lost the State of Origin, that I'd let BigTed's 11-year old, RJ, do my make-up on his day of designation.  For those not from Oz, the State of Origin is an annual rugby grudge series, pitting Queensland and New South Wales against each other.  I'm originally from NSW, but have moved to Queensland having returned from the UK, and continue to cheer for the Blues.  Unfortunately, NSW has now lost eight series in a row.  So this is my forfeit, dutifully published for your humour...

Trust me, when I say, it looks worse in person!

Cheers, KangaRue :)

Tiny Chaperone (Dating as a Single Parent III)

Dating as a single and "older" Mummy is definitely different from my dating experiences when I was in my 20s. Gone are the cocktails. The requisite sky-high heels. Late nights, when I only worried about getting the last train home, and - depending on the day - the necessity to drag myself out of bed for work the next morning.

These days, it's scheduling coffee or lunch (hopefully) while Pickle is napping. I used to think people shouldn't introduce their kids to prospective partners until at least a few months into a relationship. As a single parent, this just isn't an option - for me anyway. Pickle goes to nursery twice a week, which is great for his development and also gives me time to study for my counselling degree, hunt for a student placement/work role and do a spot of procrastinating blogging. I have to stay focussed on my work days, it would be too easy to fritter them away.

Both Sparky and BigTed are single Dads, so they are both pretty understanding. BigTed and I have had dates at the local playgrounds and gone for cycles. Sparky took us for a picnic and swim at a nearby tourist spot.

But here's the dilemma. I've now been on five or six dates with each of these guys, and haven't so much as held hands with either of them. I can't snog* someone with my toddler watching, that just seems so wrong.

It now seems like such a big deal as well.

BigTed has suggested taking me out for dinner for our next date. This would obviously require a babysitter. So do I divulge my private life to my parents? I know I'm an adult, but talking to my parents about dating makes me feel like an awkward teenager again. And that wasn't a great experience the first time around, so I'm loathe to experience it again. My lovely friend Deb has offered to Pickle-sit should I need it, but I hate asking for favours from people. While they adore each other, I want to make sure it's a worthwhile endeavour... is BigTed worth it? Or should I take the opportunity to have an evening date with Sparky instead? The resounding response on both the blog and Twitter was definitely in BigTed's favour last time, so perhaps the universe has already decided?!

So how do other people do this? Is the lack of snogging* surmountable?

Cheers, KangaRue :)

* for the non-English readers, that means kiss (pash for the Aussies, but I hate that word with a passion - no pun intended)

Dating as a Single Parent (II)

I want to subtitle this blog: Good Grief, he's a Muso.

But that would be getting ahead of myself.

I get few moments of non-toddler sanity peace and quiet most days. One day a week, I take Pickle to a swimming class. He inevitably has a bite of lunch after his lesson, we splash in the outside pool and slides and then more lunch... before Pickle slips into a deep and lengthy sleep (I consider anything over 45 minutes a lengthy nap these days). I then sneak in lunch with a friend, or a peaceful coffee on my own, while Pickle sleeps in his pram.

I chose a new venue for lunch recently; there are many cafes along the Esplanade, and I'm slowly working my way through them. It was buzzing, and I managed to grab the last table as the previous occupants left. Perusing the menu, I was approached to see if I'd mind sharing the table. And that's when I met... let's call him BigTed. Not only does the Aussie Play School connotation appeal due to my new locale, but this guy is tall - a foot taller than my meager 5'2, solid and age appropriate (in a town filled with backpackers and OAPs, this final point is not to be sniffed at).

We started chatting. He made me laugh. And then I found out he's a muso. Good grief. I've never been one to desire the proverbial "I'm with the band" t-shirt. Especially now that I'm a single Mummy. OK, so this guy isn't only a muso, he's an engineer too. And a Dad. But I can't quite get past the muso bit.

He offered to take a competition card to the cash register for me. And then gallantly paid for my lunch. I was disappointed that he didn't ask for my number, so was glad when he texted me later that day to see if he could take me out again. He'd lifted my mobile number from the competition card... Ingenious or stalker-like? Perhaps I should name him ScaryBear instead?

Should I run a mile from this muso? Or embrace the creative?

Cheers, KangaRue :)

Dating as a Single Parent (I)

I've been dating.

I've mentioned the tragic date with the semi-toothless guy and being propositioned by Dr. Coy... But thankfully there are some slightly more eligible and attractive male specimens in Hervey Bay. Some of them are even below OAP age!

In my past dating life, I used nicknames for my dates with my friends. The main purpose it served was as an easier way for my friends to distinguish them - BoyWonder was named not only for his age, but also because he had a bit of Clark Kent going for him. I intend to keep the tradition going, with the added benefit of providing a privacy protecting pseudonym for my suitors.

Two contenders stand out so far. Both are single Dads with shared care for their kids.  The first we'll call Sparky. He's a lovely guy, thoughtful and relaxed.

I found it a little weird that he didn't know what a blog was though. I get that someone might have never read a blog (though I am struggling with getting my head around this alone). But to not even know what a blog is? I'm pretty sure I ballsed up the explanation too. His sense of privacy means he baulked at the idea of blogging at all... So not sure I'll divulge his inclusion here. He's also not particularly open conversationally - though we've had great discussions about travel and a bit about food.

He's also doesn't eat red meat. Not a deal breaker in it's own right, but don't lecture me about my food choices. Someone pass me a steak knife please...

So Sparky should give you an idea of his line of work. I don't really care what someone does for a living, as long as they enjoy it and find it challenging or inspiring. Obviously not every day can be blissful, but otherwise slogging through a third of each day would be tiresome at best. But Sparky dropped into conversation that he's the boss, along with the properties he has invested in. I'm not sure if it's a nerves thing, where he feels the need to "big" himself up, but I've found it a little off putting - red-flags are flapping as previous relationships featured guys with underlying insecurity that manifested as bragging and arrogance, which eventually got directed towards me. So no thanks as a general rule. But we'll see. At worst, I'd like to keep him as a friend.

Details of my other suitor will have to wait for another day.

Being the boss and owning properties should logically be a draw-card, yet I'm finding it a turn-off... Am I nuts? 

Am I being naive thinking I can stay friends with someone I've dated briefly?

Cheers, KangaRue :)

Man in the Moon (aka Happy New Year!)

Today is my New Year. The start of a great year after a year liberally dosed with a fair amount of crap*.

A year ago yesterday (or the early hours of this morning given the time difference in the UK), BoyWonder said that he wanted a divorce. I've moved on in a number of ways: location, attitude, outlook... and there has been a lot of self reflection, which is obviously an ongoing thing. I've also had time to reflect on past relationships and experiences.

A lifetime ago, I was engaged to a(nother) boy who couldn't see the man in the moon. Not a deal-breaker, you might think? But being able to see the "face" in the moon came to represent a level of imagination, dreaming and playfulness. I said to myself that I'd never go out with someone who couldn't see the man in the moon again. But then I married him. Perhaps it was doomed from the start? OK, that's not really giving either of us enough credit, but I can be a bit blithe in my own blog I hope?! A fortune teller in Hong Kong about 8 years ago may agree though, but that's for a future blogpost.

So while it might not be a first date question (because, quite frankly, they might think I'm even more nuts than I am a little nuts), I think I will be asking it pretty early on in any relationship. Will I base views of longevity on the answer? Probably not as a knee-jerk reaction, but it will certainly influence my thinking long term. So while I may not walk away immediately, I'd probably start extricating myself pretty quickly. 

So do you have any left-of-centre deal-breakers? (I can't be the only one?!!)

Cheers, KangaRue :)

*the year has had a lot of positives too - Pickle constantly amazes me, I've watched friends get engaged and married, had some awesome times with both friends and family and met some fantastic new friends too.

Dating for Dummies

I've mentioned before that I like the process of dating.  But jeez it can be a frustrating process at times.  I really wish I'd written down all the disaster stories pre-BoyWonder, so I'll be making sure to share the sagas going forward for your amusement.

I had an interesting conversation with my Dad recently.  He pondered why an attractive girl who was on a television show, would have to resort to internet dating.  I asked Dad how he met people in his day; "at dances", was his response.

Nightclubbing is not the same thing. People mingled and conversation was possible.  There is really no equivalent to getting your dance card filled these days.  But perhaps internet dating is the closest thing - eyeing up the intended party to see if you like the look of them, having the opportunity to chat to find out likes and interests, then deciding if you want to meet again in a more personal setting to see if you want to progress things further.

And as I pointed out to Dad, it is just one avenue to meet people.  Dances weren't his only way of meeting girls, after all.

I don't think he realised that I had indeed internet dated.  I actually met one of my past boyfriends this way - I won't "out" him, as I don't know who he's actually told... I'm aware not everyone is as forthright as me.  We are still friends - in fact, he makes a much better friend than he ever did a boyfriend (which will help some of you figure out who I'm referring to!).  And I expect he reads my blog, and I'll get a Twitter DM or email shortly *waves*.

Anyhow, I digress.  So I've internet dated.  I've even speed-dated.  The later I think is a somewhat ridiculous way to try and meet someone, though I did suss out some great tips on London restaurants, while also being able to immediately discount people who suggested Maccy-D's.  I think the chance of meeting a soul mate is fairly limited these ways, as a general rule.  But ultimately, I believe it sets the right frame of mind to be open to meeting people.

In fact, I've met two of my loveliest friends through the internet.  One, Cathy, followed my blog, and we got to talking on Twitter.  We met up on one of her frequent trips to London, and voile, our friendship was born.  We've seen each other many times since, she was at my baby-shower, spoils Pickle rotten, and she even flew to London for my farewell lunch.  The other, Deb, I discovered on Twitter once I'd moved to Hervey Bay, and was desperately searching for someone social media savvy in the vicinity; and we just clicked. Hmm, I share a love of good champagne and wine with both these girls... I sense a theme!

So while they're not dates, they are successful relationships spawned through the internet.  I don't claim to be an internet dating guru, but I can let you know how to impress me (or not, as the case may be):

• smile in your photos. In one photo at the very least. Looking like a grump, even if you're trying to show your serious side, makes me think you've got absolutely no sense of humour
• have teeth. I've actually shown up to a date, and met a guy who's four top front teeth were missing.  I have a thing about teeth - pretty sure this is due to my years of suffering braces - and just can not date someone with horrid (or non existent) teeth.  I obviously should have listened to my own advice in the first point.  
• don't have a rant at how insincere/obnoxious/full-of-themselves all the women on internet dating sites are.  This is completely off-putting and I'm not going to reply to someone like this.  I don't even know you and I don't want to, if this is how much luggage you're carrying around.
• actually read my profile.  Asking basic questions about things clearly stated is a big turn-off.  You never know, you might find some conversation starters in there!
• show an interest.  I state that I blog.  I use the same name for all social media.  It's not hard to find me here, or on Twitter.  So far, one, just one, person has actually shown enough savvy to track me down.  Not in a stalkerish way (I don't think!).
• don't call me "baby cheeks" or some other cutsey nickname.  You don't know me, and frankly, it's just a little creepy.  And I might barf.
• drop any sexual inuendos.  Or worse, the blatant comments.  It's neither clever nor funny.  Again, you don't know me.  Where's the romance? 
• Turn up on time, or call/message to say you'll be late.  Before you're actually late.  Basic manners, surely?  In London, the tube could be blamed for perhaps 15 minutes, but any longer - and in Hervey Bay, were it takes 10 minutes to get anywhere - there is no excuse!  And as someone with self-respect, I will leave.

So there's my Dating KangaRue for Dummies guide (Part 1 perhaps?).

Have I missed anything?  I'd love to hear any bizarre approaches you've received!  How DO people meet other singletons these days?

Cheers, KangaRue :)

Missing a few steps?

Well, I wasn't expecting to write about dating quite so soon!  But I had a call the other night, from a man I've know in a professional capacity over the many years I've visited the Grandparentals in Hervey Bay.  Let's call him Dr. Coy (not to be confused with Star Trek's Dr. McCoy).

Dr. Coy is recently divorced, he seems quite reserved, and I expect he's lonely.  And it must be difficult not to become fodder for gossip in a semi-rural location like Hervey Bay.

Anyhow... Dr. Coy proceeded to tell me about a board he was on, and a conference he was due to attend in a couple of weeks.  Now, I'd recently mentioned my counselling studies to him, so I wasn't quite sure where this was going to start with.  Call me naive if you will.

There would be outings and dinners, and would I like to join him?  For the weekend.  It wouldn't be suitable to bring Pickle (understandably), and there's no way I could leave him for an entire weekend, with the elderly Grandparentals, but that's beside the point.

Whatever happened to "would you like to join me for a coffee/drink/dinner"?

I still think a mini-break is a big deal - if not quite as much as Bridget Jones' "a mini-break means true love".

I actually have no idea if I have anything in common with this guy - being stuck in a car sharing the driving for six hours each way, let alone the rest of the time, could be a nightmare.  And let's not even discuss sleeping arrangements!

I must admit, there's a little Jewish voice whispering in my ear: "go out with him, he's a doctor"... But then again, I'm a Very Bad Jew ;)

But perhaps I've jumped the gun, and that wasn't his intention at all; what do you think?

Cheers, KangaRue :)

Dating Dramas

Back in the days BBW (before BoyWonder aka Pickle's Daddy), I enjoyed dating.  Get your mind out of the gutter, I mean actual dating:  meeting for drinks or dinner or something more adventurous (again, mind out of the gutter - my first date with Pickle's Daddy was indoor rock-climbing, after we'd met at a mixed pole-dancing class that is!).

Yes, that is BoyWonder on the right!

I had my fair share of amusing horror-stories, and they all had nicknames so my friends could keep up (yes, that is how and when BoyWonder came to be named as such).

There was the guy who sat down with my pre-dinner glass of wine, and said "so what do you think my name is?". Seems the night we'd met at a book launch he'd given me his working pseudonym - but in the three weeks since then, and our almost daily emails, he hadn't thought to inform me of his actual name!  All of a sudden I wasn't on a date with a Rick*, and instead was dating Adrian*... he then proceeded to split the bill exactly down the middle, and our after-dinner drink was at my expense as he'd paid for the pre-dinner drink.  I would usually have offered to get the latter drinks, but thought him a bit miserly since he'd asked me out, picked venues etc, and it wasn't what I was used to.

But I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and agreed to a second date - making it a weekday lunch, he came to Canary Wharf to meet me during my break from the world of international finance (well, working as a Personal Assistant to a high-flier anyhow).  It was a bitterly cold day in the depths of a London winter.  I booked a table and said I'd meet him at one of the local bar-restaurants.  I had got caught up in the office, and had phoned to tell him I was running a bit late, so I was surprised Adrian* was standing outside.  Thought that was a bit weird considering the weather, but he was "admiring the view" as he'd never been to the area before.  And then he proceeded to tell me he'd left his wallet at home, but our next date would be on him.  Now I wasn't even sure I wanted this date, let alone another.  So I made my excuses about it being frantic in the office (which was true) and could we take a rain-check (perhaps not so truthful).  I walked him part-way to the station - more to make sure he wouldn't see me double back, phone my friend who worked nearby and ask if she's had lunch already as I had a table booked.  She wondered why I had a table booked and I told her for that answer, I'd need a glass of wine...

I'm not sure if I should be dreading the potential dating dramas of the future, or relishing them as blog fodder?

Care to share any of your dating dramas?

* names have been changed to protect the innocent... or perhaps because I've forgotten them

 Cheers, KangaRue :)

Canary Wharf, blinkers on - will anyone discover my BookCrossing?!

Ooh, how exciting!  After a ridiculously long day at work, pain shooting through my back, I got a total blast out of doing my first BookCrossing wild release.

I've known about BookCrossing for years, but was finally inspired to get involved after reading one of Tattooed Mummy's tweets.  The idea behind BookCrossing, is you set books free to have adventures of their own, it's earth-friendly, allows a unique way to share books and clear shelves.  Released books have a code that finders can enter on the web so its journey can be tracked.

So, I dug out my copy of "He's Just Not That Into You" by Greg Behrendt & Liz Tuccillo, the same writers that bought us THAT scene in Sex and City, which was a complete eye opener to me!  Amusing, provocative and occasional just a little bit painful (when you see yourself reflected in the characters), it helped me to realise not to waste my time on men who aren't worth it - leaving me open to the possibility of meeting a good one... enter BoyWonder!

Canary Wharf seemed the perfect place as it's filled with lots of great single girls (I know a lot of them, and I was one of them!) who have dated lots of really crappy men.  So platform level on the Jubilee line, I left the book at the bottom of the escalators.  Before my train arrived I surreptitiously watched loads of people pass it by, so I'm wondering if anyone can get beyond the Canary Wharf blinkers to see it and pick it up. The gauntlet has been thrown! 

I've got a stack more books boxed in the attic, so will dig them out and look forward to having my books discovered, read, reviewed and hopefully travelling the world!

Cheers, KangaRue