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There's also the physical element of dating when you're a mom.
I might only be 26, but I've had twins and my body likes to exclaim it.
And I think that's probably what I've learned the most about dating with children: In the midst of that uncertain whirlwind, figure out what your priorities are, and stick to them.
Let them anchor you to the soil, and hold fast when it feels like you might get swept away.
But that doesn't mean our dating lives don't bring some weirdness.
While I'm a positive girl who likes to put an optimistic spin on things, I'll admit that the first few encounters between my boyfriend and my ex were, understandably, a little awkward.
The latter could be young, vibrant, with clean hair and boundless, youthful energy, while the former would be unwashed, unshaved, and falling asleep under piles of laundry by nine PM.
But one day I realized that even though I'd tried to convince myself I could separate the two identities, it's impossible; like winter and spring, they can't exist without each other.
Because it's not cute; there's legitimately nothing endearing about my greasy messy bun, eye bags, and frequent hoarse yelling at my girls to “Share!
There was definitely some chest-puffing on both sides, and the conversation was about as strategic and subtle as navigating a minefield (while blindfolded).