Blind Dating: (2 page)

“
You responded with, ‘I can walk, and talk. Yes I am a man.’

“
She laughed. We all laughed, because we realised you w were serious and thought you were a man!”

He hated that story, not because of the context, but because everyone found it so amusing, and to make matters worse, Mum felt the need to share it.  I had to share it to put him in his place so that he knew he was nothing more than my little boy.  Sure, he was getting more responsible and independent, but he was not ready to go to college, and certainly not old enough to leave home.

Poor thing
, I think at the back of my head,
he believes he is the reason that I am not interested in the party and this is the source of my unhappiness.
  It is not that. I just need to let go of so many things, and I cannot. I am a victim of my own misery.  It needs to stop, or at least be put on hold.  Today was going to be a good day. I could feel it.  Eric was going to have a good time, and that is all that mattered and that I needed.

Even the girls constantly teased their little brother.  They kept saying, “I hope this party turns out well. I hope guests turn up—especially with the things that have been happening lately.”  Until, they say this, the possibility never even entered my mind.  Now, I am panicking even more.  Just say no one turns up. Then what?

Stop it,
Kimberly!

They will turn up and he will have a good time
.  You will see.

I sure do hope so!

I give him the biggest hug in the world, after all it is his day and I do not want to lose sight of that.  Right now, I was just being selfish.  I  did not know what to do for his party. I tried hiring a clown, but a frown came on his face. “ How old do you think I am?”  I had to stop and think for a while, because at times I lose count of ages and names.

I tried hiring a magician,
but got the same reaction.  All I heard was, “ Let Auntie Christine organise it.”  We all knew what that meant—I would not approve anything in the party, and certainly, no one would comprehend how a thirteen-year-old-party could contain such things. I gave in, just to make him happy; he was having a hard time at school.

He was being bullied for being brought up by his Mom, for his weight, his eyes, his bad grades and good grades—just about everything by the sound of things.  He had dark features, and beautiful blue eyes.  No one could comprehend where he got these features from, including Tom.  My Mom would always explain it is from his Great-Great-Great Grandmother.  She had blue eyes.  Genetics!

So, the party is so he could reconnect with all his old friends, like Kevin.  Some of them he has been with since he was in kindergarten.  They had all gotten on so well, but with hormones and the society change, things changed.  Also, Eric hated being inside the house.  He loves being outdoors – on the scooter, or on the bike, or anything that involves being outdoors.

He
is not one to stay at home and watch movies or television.  Television is for when it was cold, or snowing, this is his philosophy but not his friends. The problem is his friends do not feel that way, they are the total opposite, or his old friends I should say.  They want to be inside playing Xbox360 or PS3.  On the Internet.  Anything that involves social networking or the Internet is their only interest that is why they all fell apart.  I can accept that, but what I cannot accept is my son being bullied, and we have all tried to change things around, but it has been so hard.

Mom would always declare, “It is the Internet.  Everything has changed since the internet, and so has everyone. No one connects and plays outdoors anymore—they simply chat to each other on the Internet.  Eric is not that type of child.  That is why he does not fit in.

“They do not even pick up the phone; you hear them in the shopping mall.  ‘Later I will message you on Facebook.’  Why can they not talk now? Why do they have to go home and message what they want to say on Facebook? Furthermore, they only live two streets from each other; they could just go to their house and talk.”

And let’s not talk about YouTube.  We showed her that once after Christine my sister posted the Christening on there.  She nearly had a heart attack. “Why should you let everyone see your Christening? Everyone, not just in Seattle, but in the whole world? What happened to inviting people around your house to watch the video?”

Christine replied, “That would mean, I have to entertain everyone, and feed them and give them drinks.  This way they can watch it at their own leisure.”

“
That Youboob is the devil, my Mom said, “and that Facelook is not much better.” 

We corrected her on the names so many times, that we started to get confused
; we started calling them Youboob and Facelook.

The DJ just arrived, looking all hip and trendy, and  the guests are arriving, too, by the look of things. I try to fit in, swinging my hips, and dancing to the music.  Yes, I like rap—no idea what they are saying, but I like it.  Then out of nowhere, I hear:

“
Mom, Just stop!”

All
three kids waving their hands up and down, saying, “What is she doing? Someone make her stop.”

“
MAKE HER STOP – NOW!”

They all agree.  Then I notice that my sisters are dancing, Mom is dancing, even Pops is dancing, and my kids are dancing with them.  And they do not feel the need to stop—only me.

Great!

I’m l
istening to Justin Berber’s first song,
Baby, Baby, Baby – Oh
.  I do not understand the artists today.  They speak about love like they know all about it, then you discover they are only sixteen. 

Strange
— so far ten girls.  Pretty young things, with their little shorts and trendy tops.  Look at them comparing their tops.  One of them even has a low cut top—now that is funny.  What does she think she is going to flash?  It is strange.  Girl clothes in my day looked like girl clothes.  What happened to a child being a child? This one is wearing matching hot pants, and cowboy boots, which is exactly what her Mum was wearing when she dropped her off.  Then, they turn out to be sluts, and they wonder why?  The only difference is the girl is wearing a vest, not a crop top like her mother.

OK, the party is in full swing, or so it seems, and still more girls and no boys.  I go up to Eric and say,  “Where are the boys? Do you want me to call their Moms?”

“
No,” he replies, “none of them were invited.”

“
What?” I ask, puzzled.

“
Auntie Christine said ‘Just ask all the girls, and the boys will be jealous, and when they hear that you are having parties with only girls, and that each girl in your year is your friend, they will stop bullying you.’”

“
Wow, I said. 
Are they that fickle?
I thought in my mind.

Never mind Kimberley, you worry too much
, and at that precise moment, guess who walks through the door? Tom, with my maid of honor, Julie.  I try and smile, thinking, 
It is for Eric—it is his party.  Do not cause a scene. 

Christine walks over to me and hands me an
alcoholic punch which she sharply shoves into my hand and says, “Drink it now!”

While she was making it, she saw my frown and said it is only for special parents, not everyone would get some.  As I look around, I wonder how she distinguished between the special parents and the non-special parents, because it looks like everyone has had some.

I finish is  with one sharp gulp.  I start to enjoy the party.  The children are enjoying themselves.  More importantly, so is Eric.  He is really enjoying his party, especially with one little girl in the corner.  I tear them apart.

I’m not ready to be a Grandmother yet, and my Mom is by no means ready to be a Great- Grandmother.  She refers to them, but that does not mean she wants to join that club.

It  seems like Auntie Christine was right, because Eric was never bullied again.

I look at myself in the mirror, and then I think about my life.

Get up in the morning

Get the kids breakfast

Have a shower

Go to work

Come back from work

Cook

Clean

Go to bed

I think about my day and my life, and realise – I have nothing else.  Not even a potential of a hobby or social life.  The only time I go out is if my sisters invite me, or my one best friend, or my parents, when they feel like having a Sunday brunch. 

Then, I think of all the events – family weddings, funerals and Christenings. 

I have nothing to look forward to all week long.  How bad is that?

Am I really in my 40’s or in my 90’s?

Then, my mind races to Mom she has her knitting club, her bridge club, her cooking club, her writing club.  She was
busier then I was and she had friends.  Why was I letting life slip me by?

Also, I was tired of being single, and tired of my Mom pointing it out.  She goes on about me being single then in the same breathes states; no man wants a woman with 3 kids.  I question, so how am I going to move on then, if no man wants me.  She says in one word. Lie!

Lie, at first this seems to be the worst thing in the world that I can do, but as the years roll by, I begin to think that it is the best thing I can do.  I mean, I was approaching the wrong side of 40.  I had not even dated since the divorce, which was 5 years ago, or was it 6.  I stopped counting, because every time I started to think of it, or the fact that I married him, it just made me feel sad.

Then, I would think, if I never married him, I would never have had my beautiful children, and they surely are beautiful.  I am blessed everyday I think of them being in my life.  Sometimes, when I am blue, sure enough one of them will come up to me, and kiss me on the cheek.

It is going be OK,
Mom; you wait and see – one day!

There was that one fling in Spain when I went with Christine, but that did not last long.  When I went back the man was gay.  He used to swing the other way during holiday season and swing back home to his boyfriend Joaquin outside of tourist season.  So, I discovered during the winter when I managed to get some cheap flight tickets, and I wanted to surprise him with a visit. 

What a fool?

Everyone warned me about that one, but did I listen. No

I never seemed to listen at the right advice; I am not sure if I do it on purpose, or simply because I feel I should be living a life of being single after getting a divorce.  I just used to go to church, I cannot face it anymore.  I committed one of the worst sins, divorceand I just do not feel comfortable about the whole situation.  Sometimes, I think I am too harsh on myself.  God is a forgiving God, so I need to start forgiving myself and just stop living in this misery.

OK, maybe I should step up my game.  Just cannot think how?

Socialising on Facebook, but then everyone will know what I am doing on Facebook, so not sure about that as an avenue, there must be other sites, for dating.  The problem with Facebook is they will know everything about me, before I even decided whether I want to
know them or not.  No, I need a different avenue, but I do like the idea of it being on the Net.

Rushing to work as usual.
  At least the kids are older now, so they can simply get themselves ready and get on the school bus.  I do not have to worry about the days, when I would get them ready in the morning, feed them, drop them at 2 different schools and then get to work and I had the same thing when I finished school.  Pick them up at the child-minders and go home to cook and clean.  And this is when I was married!

The worst part was one time I got home, and Tom questioned – Why are you always late?

I replied with – why do you not pick the kids up then?

His response – because I have a convertible, how am I supposed to pick them up, they cannot fit in the car.

That was another thing he did, when I was pregnant with Eric he went to buy himself a convertible.  Claimed he always wanted one, and sold his family car for the convertible.  We were all in shock.  That night, he came home, and told me, not to worry about buying him a birthday present, because he had  bought himself the best present every, and it took all our savings, but do not worry, technically half of it was mine.