It was one of those rare sunny Saturdays in Astoria, the kind that demands you seize the day. The kids had been cooped up all week thanks to a relentless string of rainy days, and their energy levels were through the roof. I decided it was time for a day out—a little fresh air and adventure for them, and maybe, just maybe, a little breathing room for me.
We started our day at Tapiola Park, a sprawling green space with a playground that’s a magnet for kids. Jack raced to the wooden walkways, determined to run the length as fast as he could. Lily was instantly drawn to the swings, her laughter echoing as she soared higher and higher. Max, my whirlwind of a toddler, decided that every pile of leaves needed to be investigated thoroughly.
As I watched them play, my phone buzzed. It was Ben, my ex-husband. “Hey,” he said. “I’m in the area. Want me to swing by and take the kids for lunch?”
This was a rare treat. Ben and I have worked hard to build a co-parenting relationship that’s functional, if not always seamless. Days like this, I’m reminded of how much we’ve both grown since the divorce.
“That would be great,” I replied. “They’ve been talking about pizza all morning.”
An hour later, Ben arrived, and the kids greeted him with squeals of delight. As they piled into his car, I felt a pang of guilt for how relieved I was to have a few hours to myself. But I quickly reminded myself: self-care is not selfish. With the kids off to lunch with their dad, I had a chance to recharge.
I headed downtown, where Astoria’s main street is lined with charming but expensive boutiques and coffee shops. I wandered into a little clothing store I’d been eyeing for months. It felt indulgent to take my time browsing, trying on dresses without the sound of little voices asking, “Can we go now?” I picked out a floral number that felt perfect for spring and decided to wear it that evening—because I had plans. Big plans.
Yes, I had a date. A Tinder date, to be precise. It had been a while since I’d ventured into the world of dating, and my nerves were a mix of excitement and apprehension. His name was Ryan, and from our chats, he seemed kind, funny, and refreshingly down-to-earth.
Fast forward to 7 p.m., and I’m at Astoria Coffee House & Bistro, one of Astoria’s coziest spots. Ryan arrived on time, and my first thought was, “Okay, he looks like his photos. Good start.”
The conversation flowed easily, covering everything from favorite movies to hilarious childhood stories. At one point, he asked about my kids. “Three,” I said, smiling. “They’re amazing, exhausting, and the reason I drink so much coffee.”
Ryan laughed. “Sounds like a full-time adventure. So, what do you do when you’re not being Supermom?”
It was a simple question, but it made me pause. For so long, my identity had revolved around being a mom and navigating post-divorce life. That night, though, I was reminded that I’m more than that. I’m someone who loves hiking, writing, and exploring new restaurants. And maybe, just maybe, someone who’s ready to let a little romance back into her life.
By the time the check came, I realized I hadn’t checked my phone once. No frantic texts from Ben. No meltdowns to manage. Just a quiet moment to enjoy the company of someone new.
When I got home, the house was still and peaceful. The kids were tucked in, thanks to Ben, who’d graciously handled bedtime. As I slipped off my shoes and hung up my new dress, I felt a sense of balance I hadn’t felt in ages.
Life as a single mom is messy and complicated, but days like this remind me that it’s also full of possibilities. Whether it’s a morning at the park, an afternoon shopping spree, or an evening spent rediscovering myself, I’m learning that it’s okay to embrace all the parts of who I am—mom, woman, dreamer.
And who knows? Maybe there’s room for a little more adventure, too. Keepya posted!