When I had a two-year-old, I was single. Two is a tough age generally. The good thing about it is that they can talk, and the bad thing about it is they are still a baby.
She came over yesterday afternoon and gave me a big smile in her car as she was parking in my driveway. She wasn’t wearing her glasses so her green eyes were not obscured and beautiful. I like them when it’s overcast.
My dog got so excited that she pooped in the house and there was a loose dog outside too that I thought maybe my neighbor had adopted, but he just put it in his backyard and said he’d call. The little dog had a collar on. We finally got into my house and I took her hands and led her back to my bedroom.
My son was studying at the library yesterday.
I know that much of our obstacles are her getting used to seeing someone who doesn’t want to co-habit or remarry. However, she has said that now she likes having all of her parenting choices within her sphere of influence and that is easier in most respects.
Anyway, Baby Daddy is a piece of work. No financial, emotional or any support. He’s not seen her daughter in a couple of years and he texts “Hi,” late at night and ignores all of her texts of pictures that she used to send. He also has or has pawned a 3/4 karat diamond that he has had in a safe for their daughter which was my girlfriend’s mother’s ring. He ignores texts my girlfriend sends to ask to get it back. He’s an asshole.
The ring makes me feel awful. For that reason, I am working with a jewelry designer who I know to make a white gold ring with rhodium overlay. There will be a lab diamond and two gemstones. Hers is a ruby and her daughter’s is an emerald. I want her daughter to inherit something given that her dad may continue douchebaggery.
Yesterday after we’d connected and talked a bunch, I asked her if she wanted to go get some food.
She said that she needed to get her finger sized. (I was super concerned that she wouldn’t wear / like her birthday present so told her about it on Tuesday after we were getting a late bite after the concert.) I told her that she’s a 5. She said her finger is bigger. There is no way.
However, we went to an expensive European jewelry store in our expensive shopping district. She’s a 5.5 and she barely listened to me, but believed the proprietor when she explained European sizing, bandwidth, and when it’s cold not wanting it to slip away forever. She texted the designer her size when we left.
Then we picked up fast casual burgers and I ate mine in the car. She told me that she can’t believe how fit I am with how much I eat. She said that her ex-husband couldn’t do that either. I told her that I exercise a lot and she said, “Not really. When I was doing various tris and marathons, I was in the gym an hour a day everyday.” I didn’t tell her that a mother could never do that. And that’s true. You can’t do lots of things that you’d like to do with a kid. Some of your previous self never comes back.
I asked her if I could tag along to the daycare school and hang out with them. We talked about interesting clients on the drive over. Her daughter was stoked to see me. We all played at the park together and then I asked her not to take the highway back to her house but take street because I intended to bail out when she was at a stoplight. I did and walked home.
I’m so glad that we talked through this conflict. I can’t wait to blog about what she does for plans for us this upcoming month. We’re in different phases of life. It doesn’t change how much of my heart she has.

Been a while since we heard from you. Hope everything is going okay. Happy Chocolate Egg Day!
Hahahahaha! So sweet 💗 Thank you. I will write tomorrow if I can get 38 papers graded. That means a lot that you checked on me!
Glad everything is okay. I sometimes realize one of the bloggers I follow hasn’t posted in a while, and I know you have a lot going on in your life, so I thought I’d check in. From all I’ve heard from teachers (my mom and sister, for example), grading papers isn’t fun. With cell phones and LLMs, I’d guess it’s even worse now.
I am a full-time provider (clients) and also an Adjunct Professor at two Universities. My life is CRAZY in April.
I have a BF who works in theatre management, and she has times of year when life gets crazy and overwhelming, so I can relate. Hang in there!
Just wanted to mention, and the only reason that I know is because I work with Gen Z and Gen Alpha, that you have to write “BFF.” Otherwise, you’re talking about a romantic relationship with a man.
Ha! It took me a moment to figure out what you meant. But I’m one of those who does his own thing and doesn’t much care what others think about it. FWIW, I find “BFF” a bit twee sometimes, plus I’ve learned that the second “F” isn’t always true.
(The use of “she” in the second clause should be enough, I’d think, to disambiguate it for anyone who initially assumed B=boy. Or if nothing else, at least the confusion could be conversation starter. 😉)