I have some exciting news! I partnered with Yoplait Kids Yogurt on a fun and yummy project. Click here to read all about it.
For the past two days I’ve been working in NYC, filming Snack Chat videos and Skyping with mom bloggers about Yoplait, healthy eating, tricks to get picky eaters eating and lots of other fun topics. Since I live in NJ, I was offered car service to bring me into the city and I gladly accepted because I hate driving in NYC. I’ve had the same driver for the past two days. He’s an elderly gentleman (like late sixties), very kind and chatty. I told my mom he reminded me of my Poppy (her dad who passed away when I was 18).
I planned to pop in my iPod ear buds and listen to some music, you know, get some me-time in on the ride to NYC, but the driver wanted to talk and talk and talk some more. I have a soft spot for grandparent-types, so I went with it.
He asked me everything under the sun: Where I grew up, where I went to high school, if I was a cheerleader, where I went to college, what I studied in college. Then we transitioned into my work. I told him I was a writer. I told him what I write about. I write about being a mom. Now he wants to know about my husband and before I can answer he tells me he’s been married for 39 years and that marriage is important. (I agree completely.)
He asks how long I’ve been married.
I tell him 3 years. I don't miss a beat.
I couldn’t tell this 70-year-oldish man I was a single mom. I could tell he was old-school and in a way, I wanted to respect him and his ideals—even though I’m proud to be a single mom and I embrace it. I mean, I’ll be honest, if my Poppy was alive he wouldn’t be too jazzed about the fact that I’m a single mom and it’s because, he’s old-school—Italian-Catholic.
But now I put my foot in my mouth because the driver wants to know about my husband. He wants to know how we met. I say college (and I actually picture myself in Philly, sitting on the grand steps of Hamilton Hall and the sun is out). He wants to know what he does. I pause and say…he works for an ad agency (after all he did go to art school). He wants to know if we’ll have more kids. We’ll have more kids. I tell him yes. I’d like another boy and a girl. A Mia and Leo. JD will be an AWESOME big brother, though I can't imagine I'll love Mia and Leo as much as I love JD (sorry kids).
I can’t remember how we stopped talking about my husband, but we did. And I was at the Le Parker Meridien in NYC ready for my meetings.
Single moms, have you ever lied about your marital status? Have you ever just not felt like dealing with the I give you so much credit line (that’s what people say to me when I tell them I’m a single mom) or the, where is the dad, what the heck is wrong with him?