I tried to have a date. An honest to goodness real date to include dinner, drinks and a walk on the beach. It has taken us a month to finally find the space in our schedules, for the planets to align, and Glenn's health and/or behaviors to mellow enough to allow the date to happen. No way was I going to postpone our date yet again. No matter how stressed out or how exhausted I became, I was going on this date come hell or high water. I haven't been on a date in too many months to count. I spent the day trying to do all the things a woman does to look her best. I painted my toenails, washed and styled my hair, chose and changed my mind three times about the best outfit/accessories/makeup to wear without trying to look like I was trying too hard to look good. What I otherwise call my "groom and bloom" beauty routine. It is very difficult to prepare my romantic goddess persona while juggling my regular household chaos plus babysitting 4 extra kids since it was another "early release Friday" that our school district inflicts on me once a month. I had given the daycare parents plenty of notice to pick their children up ON TIME and not the leisurely late hour that they usually wander in at. But two of the parents didn't listen and so didn't pick up their children til 45 minutes AFTER I asked them to be there. GRRRRRRR! Upon their very late arrival, I shove their kids at them, shut the bathroom door and hop in the shower. I just left them talking in the kitchen, I didn't have time for chit chat. I now had 20 minutes to wash, dress, and apply make up. Good thing I'm wearing jeans since I didn't have time to shave my legs! I'm racing around, hair dripping down my back, body wet from the shower and the sheen of perspiration. I couldn't tell if I was beginning to sweat from the heat or a case of nerves. Probably a combination of both. Either way I couldn't put on my bra or my jeans because they were sticking to my skin. Forcing myself to slow down, I take several deep breaths as I stand in front of the fan and let my body cool down. It's better to be 10 minutes late and smelling good than on time and sweating like pig. Wishing I could have a drink, but knowing I have to drive, I quickly revise my beauty routine to the simplest form. Either he likes me for my natural self or this will be our first and last date. I continue to alternate between giving myself pep talks, practicing my breathing techniques, and praying for smooth traffic and available parking spaces while dressing and blow drying my hair. I apply lipstick and mascara while driving and manage to make a 20 minute drive in 13 minutes without a cop in sight! I found parking only a block up from our meeting spot. Oh I felt blessed, a little winded, but blessed. This was going to be a good evening after all. My date turned out to be cuter and taller than I expected. We had nice conversation over dinner which eased my nervousness. The restaurant was beautiful, the food delicious, the atmosphere perfect... and then my phone starts vibrating repeatedly. I discreetly look to see who is calling so frequently and realize it's my neighbor. Which in single mom language means there is something wrong at my house. Since I needed to return the calls I excused myself to use the restroom. I tried calling my neighbor but there was no answer. I texted her cell phone only to find out she wasn't at home but her kids were there. Which means something really was going wrong at my home. Between my neighbor calling her kids and the call I made to my house I found out that my 18yr old son had locked my 11 yr old son out of the house for no apparent reason other than entertainment. It was my youngest, Trevor, that used the neighbor's phone to call me. However by that time I had called back he was no longer there. He had climbed up on the roof of my house and was talking into the vent pipe to the oven. He disguised his voice into a deep, creepy sounding whisper which echoed through the vent pipes and came out through the stove hood. Trevor taunted his older brother by repeating in a slow drawn out ghoulish voice, "Joe, I'm going to get you!" The effect was scaring the beejeebers out of his older brother who couldn't figure out who and where the voice was coming from. Hidden in the darkness, Trevor continued to move around the roof, from vent to vent. He had Joe chasing ghost voices from the oven to the bathroom fan, to the dryer in the laundry room. Thankfully my neighbor interviened before Trevor fell off the roof or the police were called. OY VEY! By the time I got the boys on the phone, threats dispensed, and neighbors thanked, I had spent too much time in the bathroom. I'm sure my date thought I had ducked out the back door. I returned to our table full of apologies and explanations. I grin through my embarassment and aggrevation with a shrug as I say "boys will be boys" and silently pray that nothing else went wrong that evening. I quickly turn the conversation back towards safer topics and focus on his beautiful eyes. I charm him through the remainder of our dinner and we lingered over our drinks. While he excused himself to use the restroom, I texted my neighbor to get updates. She assures me that Trevor was asleep in my bed, Joe was on his computer, and Glenn (my 64 yr old, down syndrome "foster child") was coloring and watching TV. All was quiet and calm. Things are back on track. It was a beautiful late summer evening, the perfect night for a walk among the sand and the stars. I love the beach at night. The rolling waves, the occassional sounds of the seals and seagulls, a cool breeze and a warm hand to hold. We walked for a while and then found a couple flat rocks to sit on. We chatted, laughed and snuck in a couple kisses. It was the perfect romantic, moonlit night... if I ignored the sand fleas jumping across my toes or the wind blowing my hair into my mouth. As we walked back to the car I stepped into a hole and twisted my foot. I managed to hurt the arch of my foot as well as the back of my heel. I put on a brave face and pretended I was fine while I tried not to hobble back to my car. After a really nice, long good night kiss, we parted with a sigh and said our good byes. When I arrived home I found Glenn on the couch rocking and whining. He needed to use the toilet but the bathroom door was locked. My boys were asleep with their bedroom door closed. Thankfully I had came home before his bladder exploded. I was startled to hear the phone ring. My date called to make sure I had made it home safely and to tell me about his little adventure when he found out he had left his credit card at the restaurant. He had to go back into the city, dodging the college crowd and the drunk idiots, to retrieve it. Apparently I charmed him a little too well, making him forget his credit card. I found his memory lapse adorable. It was reassuring to know I wasn't the only one the fumbled that evening. All in all we had spent 5 hours together, enjoying each others company and conversation. I'm hoping he will forget my children's behaviors and remember to call me again. But I'm not counting on it! LOL