Moving in with The Man

When my boyfriend-of-one-year asks, "Why don't you two move in with me?" - nonchalantly over Sunday brunch - I almost choke.

He is Mr. Spur-Of-The-Moment. Where I can obsess for days about our relationship, he will blurt out whatever is on his mind.

Moving in together? For me, this falls under one of those Top 10 Life-Shocking Decisions.

Especially considering the fact that as the single mom of a feisty six-year-old daughter, we've lived in an estrogen-rich environment for most of her life.

Moving in with this 45-year-old charming building contractor? I'll have to sleep on this one for a nice long epoch.

With the U.S. divorce rate hovering around 50 percent, most people recognize the blended family as a now-familiar occurrence. In fact, 1/3 of today's American families fit the blended family bill.

My rock-solid yet very opinionated Israeli transplant boyfriend was already spending every night at my little apartment -- and my daughter adored him. Could we all live under one roof together?

"We could try it," my boyfriend says, as he pours syrup on top of his pancake. "Just take this step and see how it goes."

There's a big piece of mushroom crepe in my mouth. Try it? I don't want to play house. See how it goes? This is a real child here -- my daughter -- not a doll.

He's caught me off guard. I turn red.

"You're blushing," he says. "Look at you!"

I stop chewing. "Did you just say, 'Move in with you'?"

He nods. "I'm offering you what I have," he says.

I put my fork down. Is he serious? I don't want to rush into anything and walk straight into a blind alley where I can't turn back.

But he's still talking. "I'll ask you to cover half of the monthly mortgage," he says. "But that will be less than what you're paying now in rent."

He's so practical and matter-of-fact. All nuts and bolts. For him, this is about splitting the bills and paying the mortgage. But I'm wondering: Will he go to my daughter's soccer games and parent-teacher conferences? Will he read her bedtime stories? Will he make her macaroni and cheese the way she likes it?

Someone get me a drink of water. Let me swallow this first. I need to know how we'll fit into his life. Or, how he'll fit into ours. Still, I'm touched. Now that the shock is wearing off, I actually smile.

"Can we get a kitten?" I ask. I don't know why I say this. It's the first thing that comes to my mind, and maybe it's a test. Will my needs be met, too?

"And a dog," he says.

That's when my eyes fill with tears.

"Oh no, sweetie," he says. "Are you crying? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I sniffle. "Everything is just right."