I am the most pathetic person ever.

Have you ever thought that you really wanted something, spent years waiting for it to happen, and then when it did happen cried stupid tears over it??

Okay, my mother has a new boyfriend. His name, seriously, is Foster. She met him through her group, and he seems nice and genuine and super inot her. She's giddy, which she deserves, and I know she's had to put up with it from me since I met Noah, so I can deal.

I should do a stand up routine about the phone conversations I have had with the man. The first time I talked to him I was put on the spot by my mother, also known as the Queen of Non-Sequiters, due to her need to have a conversation all her own if you happen to respond in a way she doesn't like. So even though I said no, she puthim on the phone anyway. I said I had heard they had beans and franks for dinner, which is brilliant. We talked about accents, because he is definitely a native Cape Codder, and then he transferred me back to my mother, who was waiting for a full report and a full evaluation of his sense of humor, personality and looks, based on an inane two minutes.

About a week later, I called my mother's house and a male voice answered. I figured it was him, but the concept of him answering my mother's phone overwhelmed me, so I said, ". . .Uhh. . .," to which he replied, "This must be Mandi," because I am obviously the only person who would sound that stupid on the phone. When he handed the phone to her I asked, "So, he's answering the phone now?" And she replied, "He was on that side!" I'm leaving that one there.

The third time my mother had called me and because I was on the other line I had to call back, of course at his house. When he answered I managaed to sound normal: "Hi, Foster, this is Mandi. I hope I didn't wake you." He said, "No of course, not." And then waited, as if the conversation was supposed to continue! ". . .Good," the genius replied, and he handed the phone over.

I used to talk to my mom every two or three days, and if I didn't call I would have a ton of messages from her, wondering whre I had been. Now it goes a week or more, and then the only way i can reach her is at his house, meaning I have to talk to him first. She called my cell the other day and I left work early because I was so excited to talk to her. But I had to hang up and call herback so I could get work things done, and by the time I got out there wa a message saying she had gone to his house to cook dinner. So I called her back, but then he was there and it was different. I'm whiny, I know. Let me explain.

I have always, as long as I can remember, wanted my mom to find someone. I knew my she and my dad hadn't been a dream couple. And my mom had always been amazing to me. And I wanted someone to be amazing to her. After many failed attempts, it appears that this guy may actually make her happy. Is making her happy. And now, suddenly, I am not the most important part of her life anymore. Which sounds like the most conceited thing in the world, but only because it is. I can't help it. For twenty-seven years, I have had my mother practically to myself, available whenever I needed her. Now she has a life of her own, and I am just realizaing how much I have depended on her. I know we live far apart, but emotionally I have never cut the apron strings. It's hard core realization to make (after moving halfway across the country, getting married, living with a sick husband, watching him die, getting married again, making a major career change and moving again) because your meother has a boyfriend. So I'm a little messed up about it.

I won't tell her any of this, although she knows me better than I can explain, and I'm sure she's gathered some info from my tone of voice.

The other day on the phone I asked, "So how have you been?," and she responded "WE'RE good." (The emphasis was added for effect, she sounded normal.)

I am almost thirty. Okay, three years, but it's not like I'm twelve. Coming from the perspective of a guy dating my mom, I might be her youngest child, but I'm an adult...not part of the package. Problem is, I've been told since I was waling that even though I am not A baby, I am still HER baby, and it's hard to shake.

She deserves this. Probably more than I deserved to have Andy or Noah, so I have to suck it up. I like hearing about him, I like that she's giddy and happy, but somehow his real existence trips me up.

This whole thing led me to think about all the really important people in my life. A great majority of them have someone significant to share lives with...spouse, boyfriend/girlfriend, kids. . .and I realized that we have a lot of small connections with people, like hydrogen bonds in water...it seems cohesive, but the bonds break and reform so often and so easily that it causes the impression of cohesion. But Noah and I, for example, we're like an oxygen molecule, strong covalent bonds that last.

Wow. I need a life.

Anyway, I'm grateful for him. For a moment, thinking about all this, I felt like he was the only person in the world who truly cared about me. I know that's not true, but it is different. I wish everyone could have it. And I'm glad my mom has finally found it, even if it takes some adjustment.