So mr.redbull and I have been hanging out for right around three months. I really like him, and like him to the point that I introduced him to M. That hasn't gone so well. It is not fair to him because by default he is the sacrificial lamb so to speak, i.e. the first boyfriend type person that M has met since her dad and I split last October. The general consensus amongst all I have talked to about this is that it doesn't matter who he is, it's because he's the first, and all I can do is give it time.
In the midst of unpacking I came across a box destined for storage that needed repacked into a sturdier box. M wanted to help so as we sorted through photo albums, journals, and other keepsakes from my teenage years and moved them into the new box, we came across all of my prom pictures. As I showed them to M it dawned on me that in her eyes, I had never been with anyone besides her dad. I opened the first one and could tell the wheels were turning in her mind. I saw her eyes widen in surprise as she said "That's not dad. Who's that?"
"That's Steve."
"Was he your boyfriend?"
"Yes." Next picture...
"Who's that?"
"That's Cory." Next picture...
"Who's that?"
"That's Emery." Next picture...
"Who's that?"
"I'd really rather forget about that one sweetie." Next picture...
"Who's that? Is he a real cowboy?"
"Yes, honey, Cliff is a real cowboy."
M says in complete and utter amazement, "Wow, a real cowboy. You went out with a cowboy!! I can't believe it!!" (Something about cowboys makes kids absolutely adore them. In my little sis's eyes, none of my boyfriends or even my ex.hubby have EVER compared to Cliff and it's been 15 years since I went with him. But it's because Cliff and I took her to a real rodeo.)
So a day later, I'm thinking she is over the trauma of realizing Mom had a life before I met her dad, and I'm hoping this will help her be more accepting of the life I have now. This particular sunny Saturday afternoon I have M in the car with me, and as we exit the freeway I see a familiar face in the truck behind me, waving. I make the turn onto the street and as the truck pulls up beside me there is no longer any doubt about who it is, it's NYB. He waves, I wave back and M's little voice in her most incredulous tone pipes up from my backseat with "WHO IS THAT?!?" I struggled a little to find a version of the truth for a 6-year old so opted to simply say "oh he's a friend of mine."
At least now I know there's no hard feelings from NYB seeings how I had opted for the total avoidance route when I met mr.redbull. And as for re-introducing M to mr.redbull, I guess I'll just give it some more time...
