May 24, 2012
Michael has been chatting with a nice young lady (she’s a year younger than me, so I think I can officially call her that) on a dating site, and the time has come… They’re going to meet! It has, you may have noticed, been a LONG time since either of us has dated any, so this was a sort of big deal and I am getting emotionally used to the idea, again, of sharing him. Their first meeting is to be a get-to-know you while our kid (4) and hers (5) play together, no hanky-panky.
And suddenly it occurs to me what a convenient solution that might be for them – let Kathleen watch the kids, after all, they play great together! And we’ll go have a romantic dinner. My first, intense, knee-jerk, nut kicking reaction is “OMG NO!” And this before the idea has even been conceived of by anyone but me. Pretty intense, but upon further inspection, not unreasonable. (And before I get too much farther into this post I just want to say, I’m not saying I’d never watch her kid, but it would have to be after I had gotten to know and like HER, and after she and her child were an established and steady part of our lives.)
The thing is, when Michael and Becky were dating, I was a facilitator. My needs became secondary as I smoothed the road and made sure that all obstacles to their togetherness were removed where possible, despite the fact that this was neither my responsibility nor my role (or should not have been). Becky, who claimed all the “poly experience” should have known better and asked me to back off, but that is neither here nor there. The fact is, babysitting a kid I barely know so that my husband can go have a romantic evening with a woman I barely know… It’s wonderfully convenient for them, but unless she’s paying me $10 an hour, it’s definitely putting my needs and wants below the establishment and growth of their relationship.
Logically, we have kids the same age and if I’m watching one kid, why not two? But emotions are a very different matter, as are perceptions (I don’t exactly want my husband’s new girlfriend to see me as the nanny or the pushover or the person to use for her convenience!) And for that reason, unless she becomes a serious partner of Michael’s and unless she and I (and her KID and I! And her kid and MY kid!) get along, she’s just going to have to call a sitter.
Heck, logically we should all just live with our parents for the rest of our lives and save the money on rent, but sometimes you just have to think of yourself.