A reader comment from June 15, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

You missed the boat on your answer to Sheri re: summer romance and the kids. Of course she should tell the guys she’s thinking about going out with she’s got children, and I liked the soft-pedal way you suggested she let them know. HOWEVER, she’s absolutely right about not introducing the kids. Well, maybe introducing (10 and 12 are old enough to be curious about who mom’s having dinner, movie, etc. with ) but certainly not including them in any events. You think it’s hard for just one person to be the dumper/dumpee — try having your whole FAMILY included in a mess like that. Some possible scenarios:

* The kids get overly attached and nothing comes of it — then regardless of who dumped whom — it’s your fault.

* He/She loves them so much when you break up they still want to see them — and the kids agree. This is especially true for kids just coming out of a divorce situation or haven’t ever recovered from it — Hey! Here’s someone to take up where mom/dad left off!

* The kids/date hate each other so much you’re doomed from the beginning. And there’s a good chance they will. Kids want all your time, date wants all your time…and everybody resents you can’t give it all to them (and what’s more, you’re supposed to choose who you love the most as in, “If you loved me, you’d ______”).

If you care about your children, you never let them get involved in your dating life, unless and until you start to maybe, just maybe (gasp, wheeze) think this is THEEEE one. Of course, hopefully by this time some of the major questions on both sides have been worked out. The kids may want to know you’re seeing XYZ for a movie Friday evening, but that’s ALL they want to know. (And all you should share with them.) Now, take all this and think “summer romance,” as in 3 or 4 months and end-o, zippo, that’s all folks…do you think this grief would be worth it on anyone’s part? Methinks not. (If you doubt my word on this, check with Breakup Mom — give you 5 to 1 she agrees with me.)

— Deb

Breakup Girl responds: Sounds like you know what you’re talking about…all too well. And your comments are actually not consistent with what I said … or, anyway, um, what I meant. I should have made more explicit my distinction between “introduce” and “involve.” And — hmmm — now that I see what you’ve written so wisely, perhaps that distinction isn’t as significant or as un-slippery as I thought. So no, I don’t doubt you. But the reason I’m not checking with Breakup Mom is that she and Breakup Dad are on vacation. For the next few weeks, we’re on our own.

Home and away on June 15, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I am in a confusing and slightly depressing situation. Two weeks ago I went to Mexico with part of my Spanish class. We were paired up with a group of kids from Nebraska (we’re from Oklahoma). So I started talking to and became friends with this guy from the Nebraska group. One night when we were on this island off of Cancun the group went to a discotheque by our hotel. The guy (we’ll call him George) and I got bored so we left (a lot of people had already left) We walked around the beach for about half and hour and then sat down on this ledge overlooking the ocean and held hands with his arm around me talking for an hour. Then we had to go back to our respective rooms (12 p.m. curfew). The next day everyone was sure that we would formally hook up and I was sure that he would kiss me. But then he got in a motorcycle accident and had to be flown to Cancun and I never got to see him again or say goodbye or anything. So I went home and discovered that the guy who I have had a crush on for like nine months is still just as attractive and interesting and amazing as he was when I left. I see him almost every day because we are both in karate and are training for nationals together. I’m had over heels for this guy but I feel guilty for flirting with him because I’m not sure where George and I stand. I haven’t been able to get in touch with him. I don’t even know how the other guy feels about me but I’m too afraid of losing his friendship to tell him how I feel about him. My general motto is Carpe Diem but somehow in this situation I just can’t seem to follow my own advice. Why can’t my life be as simple as Sandy and Danny make life seem?

— Confused Over Summer Lovin’

BG sorts it out after the jump!

About a boy or two on June 8, 1998…

Dear Breakup Girl,

I’m a very young looking attractive 42 year old, divorced with two children, ages 10 and 12. I’m usually attracted to younger men and they to me, but some of them freak out when they find out I have children. I just met a handsome man at a formal dinner/dance and it turns out he has asked a mutual friend for my phone number. He is 34. Do I tell him right from our first conversation that I have children? I don’t plan on introducing him to my kids; my last relationship ended in disaster partly because he did not like my kids (but that’s another story!). I’m not expecting this to go anywhere really, a summer romance would be nice though. So, what do you think? The thought of an “instant family” scares off many younger guys, even though they are projecting way off into the future. Thanks for any input.

–Sheri

BG’s suggestions after the jump!

What is it about summer romance? Why — here above the equator, anyway — is there no such thing as a Winter Fling? What were they thinking, re-releasing “Grease” in the spring? Theories abound as to why summer makes us all hot and bothered. For one thing, unless you are Smilla, seasonal shoulder-baring tanks and open-toed sandals are generally considered more flirtatious than the average anorak. Also, unless you are a lifeguard, the summer seems to bring on that crazysexycool feeling of reduced responsibility and urgency: 8 PM looks and feels like 3; vegans say, “Aw, what’s one cheeseburger!” — and since your must-see TV is in reruns, heck, even your VCR is on vacation.

Some experts even say — I am not making this up — that the male body actually produces more testosterone during summer months. Something about the position of the Earth in its orbit around the sun. Whatever. I say it’s because — well, as my friend Matt once pointed out, “there’s hardly a man in America whose hormones don’t start pumping at the thought of searing a huge chunk of cow over the open coals.” (He added: “But when a New Yorkerbarbeques, he gets the added rush of knowing that he’s an outlaw, the Jesse James — Jesse James-Beard? — of the brownstones, because open-flame cooking is apparently illegal in most NY public and private spaces. Which means that barbecuing legally in the city confers yet a different kind of manliness, because it means that the barbecuer has some abnormally large yard or deck. Especially in Manhattan, such real estate identifies the chef as filthy stinking rich. And in this town, there’s nothing more macho than money.”)

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