The only man in my life right now is the frog prince, and I’m not even absolutely sure he is man. It could be a frog princess for all I know. I haven’t actually been up close and personal with the frog, but it is definitely in my life and I like to imagine it a he, a distinguished, if warty, he.
Lately, after I finally win the battle of getting Lucca to bed and solidly asleep, I go outside and enjoy one god-forbidden American Spirit. (Disclaimer: I know smoking is wrong and Lucca will never ever see me do it. I’m not a smoker, but I do scandalously indulge myself in a smoke on special occasion. The special occasion is “me” time in the cool breeze of a warm summer night, an it’s starting to happen nightly, which I’m happy about. I promise to exchange my coping mechanism and relaxation technique of having a cigarette with yoga soon. Anyway, enough of my apologies–I have a bit of guilt if you can’t tell– back to the frog).
My frog. My frog-prince. We sit alone together in June darkness. It’s warm enough, but I put on the hood of the ratty old sweatshirt I wear outside anyway. It’s cozy and the guy loves me, even in sweats and slippers and sans mascara.
He sings karaoke to the same damn song every night, but it’s a Sinatra classic. He is a crooner, and what can I say, I love him.
I’ve let go of daydreaming about that special guy from Santa Fe I thought there was the chance to have a real relationship with. Turns out he wasn’t so into the mommy side of my life, and that, as you mommas know, is a D-E-A-L breaker.
So, I’ve traded in my evenings of ambitious text messaging and butterfly crushes on a man person, and settled in with the frog, the frog prince. There is something in the way he croaks; I know it’s just for me. No joke, his ribbits comfort like the heartbeat of a real live lover. Now I know why he’s been such a star in all those romantic fairy-tales.
May the powers that be protect him from a wayward crane.
Filed under: single-motherhood, waxing poetical | Tagged: "me" time, fairy-tales, frog prince, single moms, summer evening
You are living in the moment. The now. The present. That’s awesome.
This was a really great pos. I loved the intimacy of admitting to stealing a smoke. And the guilty admission of one day trading cigs in for yoga. So human. So heartfelt.
Thank you for making my night!
Beautiful. I love your awareness.
Wonderful! I’m so glad to hear of you enjoying your “me” time with sounds that bring comfort and love.
Okay. I think we are psychically connected. And, I can hear that damn from chirping now – stuck in my head. You’re awesome! Don’t feel guilty about the smokes!
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