Single Mom Seeks Playdates, Blind Dates

Welcome to the Tuesday guest blog. Every Tuesday -- in this case, Monday, because of tomorrow's holiday -- "On Balance" features the views of a guest writer. It could be your neighbor, your boss, your most loved or hated poster from the blog, or you! Send me your entry (300 words or fewer) for consideration. Obviously, the topic should be something related to balancing your life.

By Rachel Sarah

My boyfriend -- who was bipolar and an alcoholic -- walked out the door on Thanksgiving Day in 2000. His whereabouts? Unknown.

In hindsight, I feel lucky to be free of him. But I wasn't exactly prepared to be the 28-year-old single working mom of our seven-month-old baby. As a researcher at Time Inc., then a freelance editor and writer in New York City, I'd managed to support myself for a decade. Now, I had to turn to family and friends for help. I moved back to California for more support.

At first, the thought of dating again was unthinkable. It was tricky enough balancing hours of peek-a-boo and dirty diapers with editing and deadlines. Besides, trying to get over my ex had shut out the possibility of romance. Not to mention how exhausted I was.

When I hit 30, however, everything changed. I stopped nursing. I was ready to get out of domestic overdrive. This is how my Match.com profile began:

"Are you an honest, big-hearted man with no addictions, except coffee?"

First, there was Gary, the businessman who liked watching movies that make him sad. Then Robby, who looked like a Calvin Klein model and went to AA meetings every week. Guy was a human resources consultant who said: "I believe in love at first sight, yet I am grounded enough to pay my bills on time."

I got focused. Some might say that I got obsessed. I organized all "my men" in a thick three-ringed binder. I checked my e-mail at all hours (even when meeting a tight work deadline). When my daughter turned two, I jumped back into reporting -- I had a journalism degree -- and worked for a number of newspapers and magazines, including writing a romance column for j., the Jewish newsweekly of California, which included the perk of nice Jewish men writing to me.

One afternoon after picking up my five-year-old, I was back at it again, glued to the screen. All of a sudden, my daughter was next to me.

"Mommy, is that you?" She was pointing to my headshot.

"Uh, yes--"

"But it doesn't look like you, Mommy."

"It doesn't?" Maybe she was right; my grin did look strained.

What are you supposed to tell your little girl when you're going out on a date? I'd drop her off at a friend's house, and say, "Mommy is going out for coffee." Was it wrong to lie? The single parent dating guides didn't seem to apply to single moms.

"Don't share inappropriately with your children" (Duh!)

"Have regular family discussions with your children" (Excuse me?... She's
still in preschool!)

So I found my own way. Where once I was a free-spirited adventuress, now I am first and foremost a mom, dedicated fully to my daughter's well-being, which includes being her sole provider and trying to sneak in a few dates between deadlines and playdates.

Rachel Sarah's first book, Single Mom Seeking: Playdates, Blind Dates, and Other Dispatches from the Dating World comes out this December from Avalon/Seal Press. She lives in California with her family.

By Leslie Morgan Steiner |  July 3, 2006; 7:58 AM ET  | Category:  Guest Blogs
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