Before you start getting excited (or nervous) that this post is going to be rated R, it’s not! I have chosen to keep my blog PG. My mom reads this! ๐Ÿ˜‰

In the days following my impromptu pool date with fate, Eli and I texted and snap chatted here and there. He did this crazy adult thing where he actually texted me back within a reasonable amount of time, which was a welcome change from what I had been experiencing. An even bigger surprise was that he texted me first, just to see how my day was going. And wait for it, he asked me on a real date! Like a dinner and activity official date he planned for days in the future. Ugh, how dreamy; gotta love a man with a plan.

On the day leading up to our first date, the bunk bed arrived. (I would like to give myself a quick single lady shout out for building/assembling every piece of furniture in my entire apartment. It took days, but it was very empowering.) So anyway, the bunk bed was the last thing to assemble and I got pretty far on my own, but how does one lift one twin bed and place it on top of another twin bed? I tried, for longer than I would like to admit, and I can tell you, it was impossible. While I sat there on my kids’ bedroom floor feeling defeated, I heard my phone buzz. It was Eli. He was asking if I needed anything because he was in the neighborhood. Well, as a matter of fact, I did need some help lifting a bed. He was coming over in 5 minutes! Ahhh!

This was the first time I’d seen him since the pool so I was totally freaking out. I instantly regretted sending him pictures with all of those stupid (but amazing) Snapchat filters, because what if he didn’t remember what the “real me” looked like and now seeing me again, he didn’t think I was attractive? The panic was real.

{I know that my inner monologue sounds like a teenage girl who just started dating, but it was kind of the truth. Not dating for 9 years felt like the equivalent of not dating ever. So if I sound a little immature and inexperienced when I talk about the early months with Eli, it’s because I was!}

Alright, back to it. I answered the door and he was wearing a blue polo buttoned all the way up, bright green shorts, and an A’s hat. Such a gem. He had this special way of wearing his hats that was so endearing and adorable. I let him in and awkwardly led him to the bedroom… to help lift the bed. We placed one of the twin beds on top of the other bed and voila! A bunk bed! The last step was to screw the ladder onto the top bunk and secure it to the bottom bunk. I go to lift the ladder up and ask Eli for the screws, and then I realize something is terribly wrong. Where are the pre-drilled holes for the screws? Eli must have noticed something was up because he came closer and tried to help me attach the ladder to the bed. He asked if I had been drilling the holes myself, and I, of course, said, “No, they are supposed to be pre-drilled.” I didn’t have any power tools, nor am I a carpenter. He scanned the bed and said, “Oh, the holes are over there. I think you built the bed backward.”

I was mortified. Here I was, bragging about how I built all this furniture, and I built the bunk bed backward?! So embarrassing. He was very sweet and told me that I should be proud of myself for all that I had accomplished and that it was just a small mix up. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I am NOT a crier. I cry happy tears at the drop of a hat, but sad/frustrated tears are very rare for me. He hugged me so tight. It was the kind of hug that you get from someone who you’ve known for years; the kind of hug that makes you feel safe to cry more.

I stepped away and collected myself. We made a plan and did some measurements to drill the holes when I had access to an electric drill. I had to go get my kids soon, so I walked him to the door. When we got there, I realized that I didn’t really know how “goodbye” was supposed to go. This was our second time spending time together and we just shared a pretty intimate moment, but do I just wave? He turned to me, looked into my eyes and at that moment I knew what was about to go down. In a very sure-of-himself way, he said, “Is it ok if I give you a kiss?” I said yes. He leaned in and kissed me so confidently. His hands were on my upper arms and he leaned back and smiled at me. It was so comfortable. Strangely comfortable. Don’t get me wrong, my heart was racing and I was completely freaking out on the inside, but it felt so natural. And that spark!

The next day was date day. I was so excited and pretty nervous. Would we have enough to talk about for the length of an entire baseball game? He picked me up and we headed into Oakland for dinner. Our date was incredible. We laughed and talked and held hands! Holding hands was something I hadn’t done in a LONG time, so it felt really special. He was hilarious and different. His mannerisms were one of a kind; I was totally enamored. I remember being in our seats at the game and looking over at him just to look at him. Everything felt calm. It was crazy to feel so peaceful in a loud and bustling Coliseum. I could get used to this…

After our first date, we talked constantly when I wasn’t with my kids and he wasn’t with his. Although I could have talked to him 24/7, I really appreciated that he would let me know that he was with his kids and that he would text me later. From the get-go, even though I didn’t know his kids, I could see his commitment to them. It was sweet. We went on more dates on non-kid days and our connection got deeper by the hour. A few months into it, it was clear that neither of us was interested in talking to other people, so we had the “DTR” (defining the relationship) conversation. I didn’t know if adults did the whole “do you want to be my girlfriend thing” so I just asked him how it worked – told you I was inexperienced ๐Ÿ™‚ He said, “Well, your my girl, and I’m your guy.” I replied, “I’m your girl?” He said, “yeah, my girl.” My heart melted. Could he be any more perfect for me?

So we were officially official. Now I needed to figure out how to balance my most important job, being a mom, with being someone’s girlfriend. Let the juggling act being…

M

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