Dating a man with kids brandy norwood who is she dating
And usually, I am—as long as we're both in the mood for it. Then I realize that he probably feels the same way.
It's been difficult not to take Noah's rejections personally when he refuses to eat from the Cheez-It pack I opened or when he won't let me unbuckle his car seat. But just because I empathize doesn't mean I always act age-appropriately.
It's entirely possible I don't like children because I prefer being the child, the charmer, the one other people find adorable and feed warm sandwiches to. He wonders what he'll have for dinner while eating breakfast. True—sleeping on the floor and dodging cottage cheese projectiles might make this considerably harder at times. But at what point does becoming a mother figure mean losing myself?
Stepparenting can be a daily exercise in humiliation and feeling like the third wheel. My friends say Bob's a package deal, and it's a deal I chose. Bob decided to be with someone who's ambivalent about children, just as I decided to be with a man who has a son.
At Bob's old place, Noah had insisted on sleeping with Daddy, at which point I'd go back to my own apartment or curl up on the couch. I've quit setting the record straight each time this happens.
In our house together, the family bed didn't seem appropriate (and neither did the couch). I don't have to pretend I gave birth to this child, but I don't need to disown him, either.
On the flip side, let's face it: No one wants a stepmother. Bob knew from the beginning that I wasn't sure about my own feelings about having children, but I think subconsciously he thought we'd be this instant family and that it would be easy for everyone to adapt. Daddy's house is the sort of place where no one thinks to lay a newspaper down on the vintage kitchen table before dyeing Easter eggs on it.
Before Noah, I had very little experience with children. At 33, I haven't yet decided against children, but I can't picture having them, either. (Mostly for my mom.) I've just never been a person who sees a baby and reaches for it. Home for the holidays, I'll lie about and let my mom whip up grilled cheese and stitch loose buttons, while my dad busies himself fixing the rattle in my car.
This has seemed to satisfy any maternal instincts I might have. Even in adulthood, I still settle back into childhood whenever I'm so indulged.
And yet most people, including the dad, expect the woman to accept her new identity with open arms. Together, he and Noah are sometimes a little uncivilized.
Noah is always the loudest kid in the playground, the crankiest one at the party.
Mommy shows up in conversation whenever I try to do something nice for him.