Since a few days after my last post, my “datin guy” (as my dad and I like to call him) and I have reconnected and are moving forward. It’s funny to me that I feel this obligation to keep reporting what began as a joking foray into the dating world. We were both surprised by the existence of each other and it just kind of gained a life of its own.

I met his children a week ago. It was interesting for me to feel the terror and intimidation of that when so little intimidates me. They are handsome, charming, intelligent young men, still boys really. I found myself being very quiet which is unusual, but being empathetic by nature I could imagine what they must be thinking, wondering and perhaps feeling a little fearful of as far as the family dynamic goes.

What is she doing here and how does that change our lives?

I myself would be worried, confused and a little resentful, but aside from a slight reserve and a lot of silent brotherly communication, they were kind to me. I appreciated that. They did communicate the situation as they saw it with their mom via the ever present cell phones which I totally expected. Which instigated a phone call from her to my “datin guy” which for some idiotic reason, I did not expect. I’m a little disappointed with myself for that temporary blindness, but I digress…

Apparently they made the wise agreement (in my opinion) to keep the people they dated and their kids separate from each other. This is an excellent move when the parents are finding their own way around and have no idea who or what they want. Why cause confusion and/or anxiety by introducing someone merely passing through? It makes a world of sense to me when the priority is a child’s well-being.

Also, apparently, I am not just passing through.

I will admit that I was impressed by the way he handled that call, and I am not easily impressed. He invited her over to meet me if she chose to, which she declined, and I don’t blame her for worrying about what kind of woman her children were subjected to. I would be freaking out myself. Actually, I was.

She has no idea, nor does she care at the moment, that I admire her love and protectiveness for her boys, or that I’ve raised and fiercely protected one of my own. She doesn’t know that I won’t be used as a weapon to hurt her, or them, if I have the power to stop it. I know that they don’t need a mother since they already have a wonderful one raising them, and you will be proud and astonished to know that I kept myself from trying to adopt them and sweep them into my vortex.

They don’t need me, but their dad does. I love him, and that’s non-negotiable.

I don’t want to know what they think of me, or what her uninformed opinion of me is in these early days. I don’t want to have to fight the urge to smite anyone for dissing me when they don’t know me, so ignorance is bliss in this case.

My people tell me she should be grateful that it’s me. That the boys will love me eventually because I’m cool, fun, and easy to talk to. That she will eventually be grateful I’m not the empty-headed bimbo slut she may fear I am at the moment, and that her kids are in safe hands. That somehow we will be the Brady Bunch and life will be smooth sailing from this day forward.

I doubt it, but I’ll roll with the punches and love him anyway. 

The both of them have done a fine job in the raising of their children. I am not needed in that capacity. The rest is open to interpretation and the changing needs of the time so I’m just going to roll with it and see what transpires. He needs his children, and he needs a sanctuary where he knows he’s loved. I can walk that line, especially when he has so far proven to stand for me from a place of respect.

I think I love that about him most of all.

I’m a lucky woman.