I did It!

I did it! I did it!

It was very early this morning, I was in a hot bath, and realized that I was happy in the moment I was in.

My children are healthy, happy, and seamingly well adjusted to their new life. My bills are paid, and there is still money in the bank. My job is going well, and I'm on vacation starting tomorrow. I like the people I work with and for, and I look forward to celebrating with them at our company party this evening. I have someone wonderful to share these holidays with, and hopefully many more. I have good friends, from coast to coast that I know I can call whenever I need them. My family is healthy, and my parents celebrated their 47th wedding anniversary yesterday.

While I have no way of knowing what the next year, next day, or even the next minute will bring, I am thankful for the moment I have now. And even more thankful that I was able to recognize it, and savor it.

Happy moments, everyone!

Santa Is Gonna Have A Hard Time This Year

My daughter wants a girl dog. She wants Santa to bring it to my house, but then, we are supposed to take right away to Daddy's house, so that his dog has a new friend. Um...

My son wants a brother. He knows I can't have any more children, so he wants Santa to bring one. Um...

In The News

My gorgeous boy was in the newspaper yesterday.

There is a tradition of the Principal of the elementary school reading each class a story on the day they trim the school's Christmas tree. However, this new principal likes to sing. So instead of reading a story, he sang to each class.

In the small town where we live, this is newsworthy. Ok, so it's 7th page of the 2nd section newsworthy, but newsworthy none-the-less.

A picture of the principal singing to some 1st graders was featured, and lo and behold, there was the most gorgeous MIT (man in training) I've ever seen. Should I be concerned that he appeared to be checking out the blonde sitting across from him rather than listening to the music?

Actually, the part I was more concerned about was that the principal sang the song "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause", which is actually one of my favorite Christmas songs ever. BUT (there's always a but isn't there?) is this the best song for this audience? How many of these kids are from broken homes where the only man momma is kissing is someone other than their father? (mine included) What about the fact that our children are growing up so much faster, questioning so much sooner, there is already doubt in my son that the Tooth Fairy is real - and he's questioning Santa, too.

So, in my typically over-analytical mind... Momma is either kissing some other man, who is in fact Santa, so momma is cheating... or momma isn't cheating, but then who the heck is Santa?

Aw, hell, who cares? My little boy is famous!

On Saturday I went to the state-mandated class on parenting while divorcing. (Otherwise known as "How to Screw Up Your Children For The Rest Of Their Life 101.") T went to the class the previous week. When I asked him (still trying to be friendly!) how his class went, the first thing he told me was, "You're going to love this... you're not supposed to date for two years." I'm so glad that *this* was what he learned - that *I* wasn't supposed to be dating for two years. The other thing he got out of the class was that we should tell the kids together that we were getting divorced (more on that one later).

I went to the class. Did I ever hear that I wasn't supposed to be dating? Nope. In fact, I heard the opposite - they told us to go out, date, create a new life with new traditions for yourself. I was there with my friend, TGD, and she heard the same thing. We (TGD) and I talked about it, and we think T got the 2-year thing from the part that explained that it takes about 2 years to get all the way through the grief process for a divorce. However, T might have missed the other two key parts - that it starts when you actually start thinking about ending the marriage (which for me was 3 years ago) and that the person who files the paperwork (again, me) is usually at the end of the process.

So the point of this long and rambling story is actually (shocking, I know) yet another question. Did Troy get out of the class only what he was looking to hear? Did I do the same thing? Did TGD who is also in a relationship hear what I heard because she wanted to?

Do we all just hear what we want? When in an argument with someone are we just filtering through what the other person is saying to find kernals of information that will validate our own feelings? Can we ever be truly open-minded? In my own case, I find that I'm not really likely to change my mind to someone else's way of thinking in the course of a discussion. However, let it sink in long enough, let me marinate in it for a while, and I might just come around to your way of thinking. Perhaps that is true of most of us. To be honest, I hope so.

Oh, and back to the telling the kids about the divorce together, thing. I think what the class was getting at was that when you split up, you're supposed to give the kids a reason why and do it together. We did that. However, I don't think it's necessary to sit down with them again, and tell them that "we have filed the paperwork for dissolution of marriage". I know I'm not a child expert, but I do think that children ask the questions they are ready to hear answers to. I have always promised to answer every question they ask, whether or not I'm ready. For now, I think that's enough.

Happy Birthday to...

Anyone but me!

I love birthdays, I really do. Every one but my own.

Yesterday we celebrated D's birthday in a very low-key style. Dinner with the kids, a present or two, and a blueberry cheesecake at the request of the honoree. On Saturday, his birthday continues with his family coming over for a nice dinner to celebrate.

Tomorrow marks another very special day. A very good friend of mine is celebrating her birthday tomorrow. Unfortunately, she's about 800 miles away, so I won't be able to celebrate with her. But happy birthday anyway, Alienbody!

People's birthdays stick in my head. October 7, December 15, September 9, October 15, March 9, February 18 - these are all birthdays of friends of mine - some of whom, I haven't seen in person for over 15 years!

I love to celebrate other people's birthdays. I often get accused of "going too far" - but when I can share in the recognition of Someone Else's birthday, I want to - as much as possible.

So why is it that I don't get as excited about my own birthday? Mine's now a month away. All I can think is "so what"? I've had some fun birthdays, but usually they've passed pretty much without any fanfare or (in some cases) even acknowledgement! Last year, my parents forgot my birthday for a couple of days. Now, at the time, my mom was fighting, really fighting just to make it another day, and my dad was right there with her, so no, the fact that they didn't call, was not held against them. In fact, when my dad *did* call, it was one of those rare times when he showed emotion towards me. That call will probably roam around in my memories for the rest of my birthdays.

I think the reason that my own birthdays fall short is that I tend to use them as a report card for the past year. How did I do on my journey? What positive changes did I make? What negative ones.

This has been a big year for change for me. Maybe this year, I should celebrate. Maybe this year, I'll recognize how far I've come, and I won't be disappointed.

How Do You Define Happy?

I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. What a crappy way to live.

I'm happy at the moment. My career isn't changing, but my company is busy and I have plenty of things to do at work. My kids are having their daily challenges, but I'm able to really see what great people they are turning into, with good values, quick brains, and open hearts. My home is a mess, but it's being appraised this afternoon, which is the last step (I believe) before it is refinanced in my name only, and truly becomes *my* house. My personal life is going well, with a man that I truly care for, even though we hit our rocky patches occassionally. (How can you not when one of you is fighting for custody and the other is going through a divorce?)

In writing this down, I've realized that I'm not being my usual overly Pollyanna self, that I'm seeing things realistically, but am still waiting. I'm waiting for my job to bore me again, my kids to get bratty, my home to need expensive repair, my personal life to fall apart, and my ex-husband to decide to fight me on the terms of our divorce.

Does anyone have the abilities to really live in the moment? To look around and say, "Yep - this is all I need" without looking for the pitfalls ahead? Can that be bottled?

More Time

I need it. In the consumer-driven society that we live in, where everything is available for a price, how does one get more time?

I feel like I'm constantly watching the clocks and calendars right now. During the kid part of the week, I'm watching the clock to make sure we're getting everything done that needs to get done. Yesterday that included laundry, food, baths, homework, playtime, time to clean, more food, more playtime, and eventually mellow time in front of a movie. In the morning, I'm watching the clock to make sure I've got enough time to get the kids up, dressed, ready for the day, while still taking care of myself.

When I don't have the kids, I'm still trying to balance things. In the last non-kid week, I filed and served divorce papers, starting the refinancing on my house, began to think about starting my Christmas shopping, and even enjoyed an adult beverage (two of them, actually!)

My biggest concern is that I'm so busy watching the clocks and calendars that I'm not appreciating the now. When I catch myself, I can slow down, and enjoy the moment, but how much am I missing? How many extra opportunities for "I love you" and hugs and kisses am I missing, because I'm thinking about what has to happen next hour, the next day, the next week?

Needs

Life was so simple, once upon a time. All I needed was my thumb to suck, a stuffed animal to cuddle and a book to read.

Today, I had different needs. I needed my denim skirt and shoes that make clicky-sounds. The shoes make me sound intimidating, and I needed that today. The skirt is a size 4, and it's loose on me. I needed that today, too.

Last night, T called me to tell me that he no longer was going to agree with our agreement on the house. (The agreement was made in 2004 when we split up, and it said that he gets 1/2 of the down payment of the house, but that's it.) He decided to tell me last night that he decided that wasn't fair anymore.

He made a few suggestions, which I did not like. One was to give him more money. One was to give him a percentage of the equity in the house as it was now. One was to give him a percentage of the equity in the house whenever I sell it. I understand that it's a community property state. I understand that LEGALLY he's entitled to half of the value of the house. However, let's revisit the reality, shall we?

We bought a house in California together, before we were married. I put down about 2/3 of the down payment, he put down about 1/3. We both were working. We had one child. We both were working. I paid about 60% of the mortgage, he paid about 40%. We had another child. He stopped working. I paid the bills. He stayed home three days a week with the kids, the other two I paid for a babysitter. I still paid the bills. We sold the house two years later and made some money on it.

We lived off that money for about 8 months, before we both found jobs in Prescott, where we live now. When we bought the house currently in dispute, we used the rest of the money from the house sale in California as the down payment. From that time, I paid the mortgage. Oh, there were a few months, where T made a moderate effort to help, he paid about 30% of the mortgage for about 3 months out of the first six. Then we split up, I paid the bills. He lived somewhere else for about a year, and I let him move back in. I paid the bills. After that, he was laid off. I paid the bills. He went back to work. I still paid the bills. I had the yard landscaped. I paid the bill. Things went wrong, I had them fixed. I paid the bills.

So our final agreement is that I will pay him the $28,000 we agreed on. I also agreed that if I sell the house within the next 5 years, I will have to pay him another $15,000.

The part of this that bothers me, is that he knows that he didn't pay for the house. He knows that he shouldn't have a claim on any equity from the house. However, the whole reason that he wants this agreement (I think) is so I don't sell the house and buy something new with anyone else.

Ok, the skirt and shoes are helping, but maybe a good thumb-sucking wouldn't hurt.

Paperwork

Ok, so I met with the Certified Paper-Pusher yesterday. In the hour before I was going to see her, I was in a fantastic mood. I felt like a kid before Christmas. Why? I mean, technically, shouldn't there be some sadness? Some regret? Why am I feeling so good about my marriage ending? I know, it's been over for a very long time. Everyone knew it. I knew it. T knew it. The kids knew it. I think the mailman knew it.

Anyway, I meet with her, she checks through my paperwork, rewords a little bit here and there. Puts all my forms in order - tells me how many copies of each section I need, explains the time-line, tells me what I need to do next. Made life very easy.

So, here's what has to happen now. I have one more section to complete (it's only 2 pages), and then I get to file the paperwork and pay the $226.00. At that time, I get to sign up for the state-mandatory parenting class. Then T needs to be served. The easiest way to accomplish this, is for him to go with me to the courthouse and sign the acceptance of service (as well as the custody and parenting plan). Both of these things have to be signed in front of a notary or court deputy. The next best option is to just hand him the stuff, have him sign it in front of a notary himself, and file it at the court. Here's the problem there - what if he doesn't do it? What if he just sits on the paperwork? The mandatory waiting period is 60 days. It doesn't start until he is officially served (which means - his signature is notarized!) The least favorable option (at least for me) is to have him served by the Sherriff's department or a Process Server, this would have to be done at his place of employment, since when he's home, it's either at night or when he has the kids. Neither would be a really nice thing to do.

So, when leaving the office of the paralegal yesterday, still riding my really good mood, I called T. Of course, that was a mood killer. He was not willing to commit to meeting me at the courthouse. He said "we'd talk about it". Silly me, I thought that's what we were doing on the phone.

It's now Thursday morning. I'm filing the paperwork tomorrow. I still don't know if it's going to be a voluntary service, or if I'm going to have to have him served.

Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day. I'm (hopefully) starting my divorce waiting period, signing up for my parenting class, and then going to my son's Thanksgiving play, where he is in the pivoting role of "Narrator #1". I'm quite sure it will be Tony-worthy.

Oh, to be a fly...

I don't know exactly what happened.

I know that T and D met and had dinner together. I know that D.'s intentions were to give T. the chance to ask him anything, to make him feel better about the fact that his children were going to be around another man. I know that D. also made it pretty clear that the driving by my house (a.k.a. stalking) has to stop, and that it was making me uncomfortable. I know that T. did his usual thing and wasn't totally honest. He told D. that I asked him to run his name or check him out through the P.D. (Hello? If that was the case, why would I not give him his full name???) He told D. that he never cheated on me (but even D. could tell he was lying on that one). I know that T. asked D. more personal questions than he should have.

I don't know what the results are going to be. I just hope that things can move quietly forward. This afternoon, I'm meeting with a "Certified Document Preparer" to go through my divorce packet and make sure it's complete and ready to go. I want to get it done and over with.

Time to move forward.

WTF?

What happened to my nice peaceful life?

Yesterday I was in a great mood. I was a little tired, but I was happy. During the course of the day, I got some very sweet text messages, got to give my hard-working employees some really good news, got to hear about a new account at work that's got the potential to be HUGE, and picked up my gorgeous (although very dirty) kids from day camp. (No school - Veterans Day).

The kids wanted to invite D over for dinner, for one of their favorite meals (a really quick soup that we make together), so we had a very nice evening, with soup, salad, bread, and fruit, nice conversations, and hugs and kisses before bed.

Then the shit hit the fan.

Ok, so that might have been when it hit, but we didn't really know it until later.

D and I hung out for a while last night, and fell asleep for a little while. At 10:30, D went to leave and I walked him to the door. My phone had a little red light on it, and there was a text message waiting for me. It said: "S's book is on the bench as are the gold dollars. Thank you for slowing things down. Spare me the only over for ten minutes speech. We need to talk!"

Ok, so let's break this down, shall we?
S's book is on the bench as are the gold dollars.

Around 8:00 last night, T decided to "swing by" the house to drop off our son's library book and a few golden dollars (tooth fairy money - we're getting close). He saw D's truck.

Thank you for slowing things down.

I didn't say that I was slowing things down. When meeting with T to go over our divorce packet, I asked him if there was anything I could do to make this easier on him. I was told things were moving too fast for him (not just the divorce, but my relationship too.)

Spare me the only over for ten minutes speech.

I told him that D sometimes came over after the kids fell asleep, but it started out as 10 - 15 minutes, just to say good-night and sometimes pick up some leftovers for lunch. I didn't tell him that was still the case. However. the fact that he knew that D was there for more than 10 minutes means he has now started WATCHING my house.

Apparently, he wasn't watching the house, but he came *back* by the house after going to Wal-Mart.

Anyway, there were several long converations on the phone. Me and T. Me and D. and yes, then D. and T.

Tonight should prove to be entertaining yet again. T and D are meeting for coffee to talk.

Speaking of coffee...

Phases

Every new relationship has to go through the phases, right? The just getting to know each other phase, the learning about each others pasts phase, the "let's go out" all the time phase, the "let's stay in" all the time phase (wink, wink), the "what do you want to do tonight" phase.

Well, there's another one. At least there is in my life.

Poor D was introduced to the "Liz is on meds" phase. I had a migraine last week and another one forming yesterday. No big deal, I have medication for 'em. The problem is, that in order to break the cycle of the migraines, I have to take a complete dose of the medicine. A complete dose take me 4 hours, and since the pills make me tired and loopy, staying awake and REMEMBERING to take them every hour is a challenge.

My whole life, I have been very sensitive to medications. I've hallucinated on codeine, sudafed and vicodin. I've had complete conversations in person and on the phone while on medication, and not remembered a thing.

I *think* I remember everything from last night, but can't really be sure. I know that I wasn't my brightest, my wittiest, or my most entertaining self. Hopefully, I also wasn't my drooliest, slurriest, or sloppiest self either.

On the good hand, the migraine seems to be gone, just a little medication hang-over this morning. Being a light-weight kinda sucks!

Doing The Right Thing

I always figured it was supposed to be pretty black and white. You're a good person, so you always do the right thing. If you know what the right thing is, you do it.

So why does doing the right thing have to suck so often?

Being honest is the right thing, right? What about when that honesty ends up hurting a friend? What about if that honesty changes things irrevocably? Still, it's the right thing to do, right?

When your soon-to-be ex-husband wants to talk - you do it because it's the right thing to do. You sit and listen to all his worries and concerns, you set him straight on the stuff you know, offer opinions on the stuff you don't, and in the end you're going to do what you're going to do anyway, right?

A very good friend of mine, was facing this dilema last week: when a child's father wants to see the child, you allow it because it's the right thing. It doesn't matter that the father of the child isn't a "dad" by any stretch of the imagination. It doesn't matter that the child has found a "dad" in someone else. It doesn't matter that everyone would like to pretend that the "dad" in question was also the father. We have to do the right thing for our children.

So how come it is so easy for other people to *not* do the right thing. How can there be people in the world for whom, doing the right thing for anyone else is not even a recognized function? How can we all be so fundamentally different? Are we created that way? Is it learned behavior? Back to the age-old question - is i nature or nurture?

I would love to hear your thoughts on this one. Please feel free to comment.

Where does it all come from?

I'm starting to believe in elves. Not necessarily the kind that come in and make shoes, spin straw into gold or even the kind that help out Santa. I'm convinced, however, that there are mean little people somewhere - that sneak into my house and make piles of laundry.

How else can one woman and two children go through so many clothes? Yesterday, inbetween making dinner, dessert, going out for lunch, playing with the kids at their school, overseeing homework and cleaning a bathroom - I managed to do four loads of laundry. Sure, you'd think I was done, now, right? Nope. I still need to run the kids clothes tonight, and I didn't even tackle any of the sheets or towels yet!

Personally, I think if the Elves can come in and make laundry - there should be Sprites that come along and wash it (and dry it, put it away, etc.) and while they are at it - they should clean the other bathroom, too!

1 vs. 100

No, not the game show.

Here is my question for today. Why is it that you can get married by filling out one simple form, but in order to get divorced you get a 3 pound packet of paperwork to complete?

I picked up this packet a couple of days ago, and I've done a little work on it daily since, but I've barely made a dent. This this is so huge, so daunting - is that the idea? Make sure they *really* want it by burying them in paperwork?

The good news, is that I did tell T that I picked up the packet, and hoped that once I got through as much of it as possible, we'd be able to sit down and go through the rest. I'm hopeful that we can be friendly enough and stick to the agreements we had in place. Unfortunately, I'm seeing friends of mine, in various stages of divorce, finding that things didn't go the way they had planned.

Keep good thoughts in your head for me, and I'll keep Neosporin and band-aids around for all those paper cuts I'm sure to earn.

I thought I Knew What To Do

I had it in my head - when I became single, I knew how I was going to handle it. I knew how I was going to keep things simple, easy for my children. I wasn't going to let them get attatched to any man I was seeing. Hell, I wasn't even going to let them know I *was* seeing anyone!

So much for the best laid plans, right?

The last time I was separated my children were toddlers. I had more options about their exposure. Now, they're too smart, and too old, and all my plans are worthless.

I Should Have Been..

I should have been an Italian Grandmother.

Why do I always want to feed people? My mom wasn't the greatest cook. She could cook when she wanted to, she just never wanted to. My grandmother (on my father's side) was a good cook - but she could only make a handful of things. I knew that on every trip, I'd get her chicken salad, her sweet & sour meatballs, and her chicken soup. My grandmother on my mothers side, must not have been much of a cook at all, I can't remember ever eating anything other than breakfast at her apartment.

So, where does my need to cook for other people come in?

As I write this, I've got glazed pecans wrapped up and ready to go, mushroom-pastry puffs cooling down and orange merringue cookies in the oven. This is all to take to a party, where I am a guest.

Tomorrow, I've invited people for dinner - I don't know how many yet are coming, but at this point, there is going to be somewhere between 6 - 9 people for dinner. Only three live here.

I am never more at ease then when I'm cooking, unless it's after the first tase test, and I know that people are enjoying it. I think that's the key, I only like to cook for people who appreciate it. They get nourishment from my food, I get nourishment from their compliments and yummy noises.

Once upon a time, I considered making food my career. I changed my mind when I realized that it took what I loved to do for me, cooking, and turned it into work. Maybe I missed my calling, maybe I could have been the next Gordon Ramsey. Nah... I'll stick with what I do - make people tasty, healthy, meals and snacks.

Maybe one of my kids will pick it up from there... then I can sit back and make yummy noises.

Baby Blue

Today we are having a "party" at the office.

The VP looks like she is going to pop soon, she's carrying her first child. I'm thrilled and happy for her, but yes, a little jealous, too.

I have the two greatest children any mom could hope for. I know that. Does that make me shallow to regret not being able to have any more?

I'm getting divorced from their father, I am not looking to get married again, and I don't even know that I would want any more, but the option to do it has been taken from me, and even now, two years later, it gets to me sometimes.

Being pregnant was the most magical time in my life. I guess it's just hard to really say goodbye to that feeling.

Here's hoping to other magic in my future.

Holidays

It's official. The holidays are almost here. How the hell did that happen?

Next week is Halloween. Next month is Thanksgiving. The month after that is Christmas. Holy shit!

This year the holidays will be a little different for me. This year, T will have the kids on Halloweeen and Thanksgiving, and I will have them on Christmas and New Year's. This is not by any great planning, it just worked out that way, as he has to work on Sunday - Wednesday.

I don't mind being on my own for Thanksgiving - although, I'm not sure I'll manage to stay alone that day. I do, however, feel for the kids - they will be spending Christmas just with me. They have a great big family about an hour away, who will be doing their annual "do" - but they won't be included because their mom won't be invited and their dad will be working. I'm just going to have to find some other way of making it special for them (and no, I don't mean overload on presents - not my style!)

Today marks another kind of celebration - but it's not mine to share. However, to the person involved, know that I will never forget this day, and that I'm so happy you've made it through so far. More to come, I know, but celebrate your successes as they happen.

100th

This is my 100th post on this Blog.

In the big picture, that's not a whole lot. It sure feels that way, though.

100 posts ago, I was living in an unhappy marriage, fat, disatisfied with my life, my home, my job, my marriage, my body, myself.

100 posts ago I was in fear. Fear of living alone, fear of not being alone, fear of ruining my children's lives in exchange for some happiness of my own.

100 posts ago I wasn't sure my mother would survive the year. 100 posts ago I didn't know how my father truly felt about her, or me. 100 posts ago I thought I knew everything there was to know about my family.

100 posts ago, I was depressed, sick, lethargic and tired of all of it.

100 posts ago I was lost.

Thank you to my friends and family for making this journey with me, helping me find my way out of the dark, and helping me to live again. I'll never have the right words to explain what your love and support have meant to me.

Hugs

Is it wrong to get so giddy over a few hugs?

My son has always been a daddy's boy. He and T would always feel closer than he and I. T would play more with him, while I would teach more. T would roughhouse, I would read. T would let him watch television, I'd play boardgames. It always seemed to me that T was the preferred parent, and although I didn't like admitting it, deep down, I was ok with it, because he knew that he was a well loved litle boy.

It seems to me that things have shifted. While he still loves his father a great deal, it seems like things are swinging in another direction. For the last few days, instead of putting up with a kiss or a hug for me - he's asking for his "good night squish". Yesterday, he missed the bus after school and called me to come pick him up. When I called T, to let him know that I was on my way, he didn't know anything about it. I figured that when S called me, and my voicemail picked up, he would have called his daddy. He didn't. He just waited a minute and called me again.

This morning, at the morning drop off, he took his backpack from me, took his dollar for the buck club (before school care) and threw himself into my arms for a hug.

Please understand this isn't a competition - I don't have to be the favored parent - but it is just another sign to me that S and A are adjusted and happy. There's nothing else I want more.

The Journey

I was looking back at the past this weekend, through pictures and blog entries and I truly began to realize how much my life has changed.

Let's step into the Way-Back machine!

Not everyone knows this, but I was married years ago, when I was young and stupid. (As opposed to the less-young and less-stupid that I am now.) Although the marriage was a big mistake, it put me on the path that I'm on now - and in a way, I can't help but wonder what if...

My first husband, M, had quite a temper. Let's just keep it to being married was hazardous to my health, and leave it at that. When I left him, I did so because I realized I would never trust him around children, which I knew I would want. However, I left him when I was living in a state where I knew nobody else. I ran away to New York City, where I stayed on my very patient sister's couch for three months. After that, I moved down to Maryland, where I knew one person. I lived there for six months, then moved back to California.

When I moved back to California, I was a different person. I had proved to myself that I was strong enough to stand on my own. Good thing, too, as a few years later, I found myself moving yet again, to another town where I didn't know anyone, this time in Oregon. A year after that, I was moving again - this time to the Sacramento area in California, where I knew nobody. (These moves were all for my career).

In Sacramento, I dealt with various challenges professionally, and personally, and made it through all of them. Along the way I met, married and had children with T. We moved to Arizona a few years later and well... here I am.

The point of this is that - it took some really tough times to figure out that I could handle them, and now that I'm having some really good ones, I thought it was a good idea to remember that. Right now, I'm happy. I have a job I enjoy, a great relationship with my children, a home I'm proud of, friends I love. I'm sure that tough times are lurking around another corner, but I know now, that I can face them, and that there are bright points just beyond.

Huh, What?

I am so scatter-brained this morning.

Here it is, not even 8:00, and I've already done the following:

1) Nearly forgot my lunch (went back in the house to get it)
2) Couldn't find my keys.
3) Programmed my slow-cooker to make my world-famous chili, but left the house before pressing "start" - drove away. Drove back, because I'm thinking I'd have a contract out on me if I ruined that chili.
4) Forgot my son's hat.
5) Forgot today's date.
6) It's taken me a really long time to even write this so far, because I keep using the wrong words (even this sentence had to be edited twice).

It's going to be a tough day.

F Replacement Therapy

I have figured out the secret.

People do not need sleep or food. All you need is friends, fun, flirting, and french kissing. :)

Apparently...

Being an adult is like being a teenager. Who knew?

Now that I'm back out in the adult world, I feel more like a kid than ever. Late nights, talking, texting, spending hours on the phone - I can't remember when I seemed to need less sleep, and I'm still in a good mood every day. Add the occassional adult evening out, the glass of wine, or Sunday afternoon champagne, and I wonder what I was missing for all that time.

In fact, there was a very telling conversation at my office yesterday. I was in a good mood yesterday morning, but really didn't know why. A few ideas were tossed out as to why I was so happy, but no, I didn't get laid. Finally, one of the ladies I work with made a comment - and hit the nail on the head. She said, "You're having fun, right?"

That's why I was in such a strange mood - there hasn't been much fun in my life for the last several years.

Welcome back, fun, I missed you!

Sports and Men

I like sports. I always have. Once upon a time, I had two male roommates. I thought it was very funny, that on the rare occassions that we would get a Sunday paper, one would go for the comics, one would take the Science section, and I'd grab the sports page.

I'm not fanatical, but I do love to watch sports live. I can take it or leave it on television, usually. I'll have it on, but then I'll be doing other things, too.

It occurred to me last night as I was watching the Diamondbacks lose game one in the series, that I don't enjoy sports as much when I'm not single. Why is that?

I remember when I was first dating, T. He came over one night, and was surprised that I had a boxing match on the TV. However, as the years went by, he was the one camped out in front of the television and I was leaving the room. Why didn't we watch sports together? Why did his desire to watch sports incessantly take mine away? Ah-hah... I think I figured something out... maybe it was the fact that he'd rather watch sports (ANY SPORTS) than spend any time with me. Maybe that's what happens, maybe I resented it so much that I would giveup something I liked doing, just in the hopes of getting attention.

Damn, what am I a child? Oh well, one more lesson learned, right?

For those keeping count

I might have to give back a few credits towards my "super-mom" award.

Somehow, I managed to catch a cold (or a cold managed to catch me), so instead of a nice, healthy home-made dinner, my children were given kid's meals from Burger King. (In my defense, they do get milk instead of soda, and applesauce instead of french fries.) Their dinner was supplemented with a banana, and then dessert (ice cream sandwhich for one, popsicle for the other.)

Then, just to seal the deal, after their very healthy dinner, they were cleaned up, teeth brushed, and into jammies, where, I'm ashamed to say, all three of us sat on the couch for half and hour and watched, of all things, Pokeman. I've never seen a Pokeman show before, and I can't say I understood it. However, for me, I was mostly "watching" with my eyes closed. On one side, I had my sweet little girl, all curled up against me. On the other, my big little man, holding my hand with both of his.

However, just in case you're thinking all my previous hard work was for naught - my daughter asked me this just before bed. "Mom, when can we clean the bathroom again?"

I've still got it... even with a night of mental and culinary garbage.

Does a Manual Come With This?

Ok, as you all well know, I've recently joined the ranks of single-hood again. It's been a long time, and I feel like I don't know what I'm doing.

How long does it take before you see the real person? How long before you start revealing your own quirks and oddities? When is it ok to voice your opinion in your usual way? How long does a gal have to wear make-up? When I shave my legs before a date, does that still mean something? When are you supposed to reveal that you have a proclivity for push-up bras? Is a woman supposed to have condoms? (The last ones I had - expired!)

Well, my dear readers, at least my discomfort and potential humiliation will make for interesting reading material, right?

Which comes first?

In a strange conversation last night, I was accused of giving "management style answers" to direct questions. While I stated, and still maintain that my answers were straight-forward, I wondered for a quite a while... which comes first?

Am I a manager because I have the characteristics to make me a manager, or do I have the characteristics because I've been a manager for so long?

I was given my first management job when I was still in college, and I was managing a group of people in an answering service (little did I know that that was the first step to a long career in technical call-centers, but I digress). At that time, was I already destined to be in management for the rest of my career?

I do know that I tend to manage outside my office, as well. I do use some of the techniques that I've learned over the years in conflict resolution, problem solving, and rational thought.

However, I do believe that I give direct answers to direct questions - at least to the best that I know how to do it. Often times, I'm not avoiding an answer, but my own answers are vague, because I realy don't know!

And, D, I still don't have an answer to that last question of the evening!

I survived!

I made it through my first - first date in well, a very long time.

I did have the advantage of having met him before (let's just say small town and children the same age, and leave it at that). It was a little nerve-wracking - and probably a film director's dream. I was already feeling self-conscious, the last one to arrive, and my dinner companions were nice enough to leave me the spot to sit which - and I'm not being metaphoric here, had a spotlight over it.

It was a little awkward at first, but the conversations eventually warmed up and we were able to relax and enjoy the evening. (I'm thinking the glass of wine didn't hurt at all.)

However, I have to say that I got the biggest laugh of the evening out of my friend, Dina, one of the two behind this whole thing. The check came, and I, as is my wont, attempted to pay for my share. I was refused - and as we went back and forth on the money thing, Dina tells me, "Be a lady and take the money!"

I don't think those words have ever been put together in such a way before.

Names and Titles

A brief IM conversation last night, led me to thinking about names and titles. How many of them I've held over the years. This is what I've got so far:

Daughter, friend, best friend, girlfriend, lover, fiancee, wife, ex-wife, ex-girlfriend, boss, employee, colleague, granddaughter, great-niece, aunt, sister-in-law, step-sister-in-law, sister, Lizabeth, Liz, Lis, Beth, Flopsy (thanks, John), Munchkin, Honey, Hon, Babe, daughter-in-law, step-daughter-in-law, M's wife, T's Wife, two different Mrs. XXX's, Ms. X, Miss X, and then we hit my favorite section, momma, mommy, mom, mother.

Somewhere in there is a definition of who I am. I just need to work on the balance.

Weekend Dichotomy

It was a fantastic weekend. I went to Northern California for a wedding and to catch up with some friends that have sadly fallen away.

I flew from Phoenix to Oakland on Thursday night, and the first thing I was fascinated by was the sky. I grew up in the Bay Area, I was so used to the way the sky was, that I must have never seen it. So I was rather amazed to find that it doesn't get dark in the Bay Area anymore (if it ever did). The combination of fog, smog and city lights, just prevent the sky from ever getting past a muddy brown color.

Where I live now it's "black-dark" (my daughter's words) by 8:30. Unless of course, you count the stars... there weren't any there.

Ok, so sky aside, I had an amazing time. I got to visit with friends, have adult conversations, have adult beverages, partake in adult activities - it was the first time I had travelled on a plane without my children since their conception.

On the flight home, I was feeling really torn. Torn from really enjoying being an unencumbered adult for a few days, and missing my children. I was feeling guilty for having such a good time without them, and perhaps guilty for not missing them enough; for being disappointed that this mini-break had to come to an end and that I would once again be thrown back into the sea of homework, chores, nagging, and putting my wants and needs completely on the back burner.

I'm not a religious person, at all, but whoever created children the way they did knew what they were doing.

As we were reading our homework on Sunday evening. My daughter, A, was reading me her poem book. She read the first poem (my favorite) which says "I am not a crocodile; I am not a bee; I am not a monkey; I am Me!" She showed me the picture of herself she drew with the poem, but she drew herself with long black hair (she's very blond). Her reason? "I wanted to be like you, mommy."

I'm back where I belong.

A Little Validation Goes a long way.

Last night it was Tuesday. On Tuesdays, kids eat free at our local Denny's. Now, I really don't like Denny's - even if I'm not in one of my eating healthy moods, I really don't like Denny's. Therefore, it goes without saying that my children LOVE Denny's.

I was worn out from the day yesterday, and didn't have any genius inspirations for dinner, so I decided I'd take advantage of the kid's eating for free, thing. (The three of us ate dinner for $13).

However, it wasn't the food that provided sustenance for me.

While we were waiting for the waitress to bring our meals, I took advantage of the time and we did our homework. (Yes, at this age, it's *our* homework). First S read his book (he's gone up another level, now - he's at 13), then A read her library book (with a lot of help from big brother). We talked about both books, ensuring comprehension.

Our meals came, and we began. Not once, not twice but *three* times during the course of our dinner we were given compliments. The first came from an older lady that was sitting across from us - she came to tell S & A what good readers they were and how well they did their homework. The second came from an elderly women with a heavy accent to tell me what beautiful children I have, how golden A's hair was (then of course she looked at me, and just assumed that I was borrowing her, I guess), and she had to touch A before leaving. The final came from the waitress herself, who was obviously impressed with the children's manners (they remembered most of their pleases and thank-yous, and even remembered to thank mommy for dinner). Her comment to me was, "You're a wonderful mother... hardest job in the world, and you're just great."

Did I mention how much I love Denny's?

The Name Game

Blog, Blog, Bo Bog, Banana Fanana Fo Fog, Mi My Mo Mog - Blog!

Stolen from here.

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car)
Bambi Durango

2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie)
Half Baked Macademia Nut
(Wow – doesn’t that just inspire fear?)

3. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Purple Puppy
(um… yeah…)

4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Mara Mt. Kisco
(Ok, I kinda like that one)

5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first)
Zim-Li

6. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink)
The Blue Wine
(nope, doesn’t work)

7. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)
Sydney Maurice
(Ok, that works)

8. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy)
Summer Godiva
(Ok, some of that was abbreviated to make it work)

9.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names )
Beth Neal
(Wait, couldn’t that be my porno name???)

10. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)
Hinckley Houston
(Eww… I wouldn’t like that)

11. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower)
Spring Rose
(well, technically Spring Fire and Ice Rose)

12. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”)
Apple Shorty

13. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree)
Coffee Willow

14. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”)
The Cooking Wind Tour

Every Minute

Was it W.C. Fields that wrote "There's a Sucker Born Every Minute". Well, apparently I am one of them.

I bought new toothpaste last night. Because it was purple.

Seriously.

Flying Time

I know we've all heard that "Time Flies When You're Having Fun" - but who knew that the secret to making time pass was a separation?

Seriously, I can't keep up with *how* fast time is swooshing past me. I don't know if it's because my weeks are now divided into two chunks - the "with kids" chunk and "without kids" chunk. Maybe it's because I have so much more stuff to do that I just don't have time to look at a clock? Maybe it's because I'm feeling good and energetic and using every minute I've got.

All I do know is that today is Wednesday, and I sent my kids off to school this morning, knowing that I won't see them again until Saturday. It's getting easier to do this, but I still don't really look forward to Wednesday mornings. Wednesday evening is usually spent on a trip to the library, a visit at a friends' house, some housekeeping at home. This week, Thursday evening will be another visit at a different friends house. Friday evening will be some girly time, and Saturday is pretty much booked up with errands, soccer games, and kid-prep work, since they come home again on Saturday evening.

See what I mean? In a blink of an eye it's going to be Sunday again.

Spelling Lesson

I learned something valuable about myself this weekend. I've learned about something that really pisses me off.

I hate when people assume to think that they know me better than they do. I hate hearing things like "but you don't like to do that..." and "you love that!"; "since when don't you want to..." or "you meant to say... " - NO! NO! NO!

I am not a child. I am not in the same mood every day. I may have liked something in the past, that doesn't mean I like it today! I don't want to be pinned down!

Here's the crux... the more I have people telling me what I do and don't like - I've found the more secrets I tend to keep. Not really beneficial for healthy relationships - but I just hate having things assumed about me.

So, just in case anyone needs reminding - here's a friendly little spelling reminder - everytime you ASSUME you make an ASS out of U and ME.

When is it OK?

I am a huge multi-tasker. I am usually to be found doing at least three different things at the same time. Whether it's at the office or at home, I can't sit still terribly well. Hell, even as I write this, I'm doing a few other things.

HOWEVER - today's question - why is it that all of a sudden I'm noticing multi-tasking in the worst possible situations?

In the last few days, I've seen people talking on their telephone while driving (ok, I know, this is a mild infraction); texting messages to someone while driving (two thumbs working the phone, knee on steering wheel); and my favorite - the gold-medal winner - reading, talking on the phone and driving all at the same time! (And the crowd goes wild...)

Is there a coincidence that all three of these cars needed some body work?

Is it just me - or do you ever feel the urge to tell someone to "PUT DOWN THE DAMN PHONE AND DRIVE!!!"?

Gift Etiquette

I love presents. Big or little, inexpensive nothings, or pretty things that sparkle and are associated with the word 'carat' - I love them all.

However, what is the etiquette for receiving a gift when you really don't deserve it?

Here's the specifics:

An old friend of mine sent me a gift. This is someone that I dated in HIGH SCHOOL - saw once or twice in the years following, and whom I've had sporadic e-mail contact with ever since. Oh, I still very much enjoy our conversations on IM and e-mail, we share joys and sorrows regarding our relationships and children, and I still consider us friends, even though I probably wouldn't recognize him if he was sitting next to me on an airplane.

However, this very sweet person sent me a gift to make me feel better about my impending divorce - to help me through. Here's the problem - I feel better than I have in years! I'm enjoying my home life again - even if I am a bit reluctant to leave my house. My children seem to have adjusted well, no fall-out (yet) that I can tell.

So, aside from the thank you note, which can't even begin to explain how nice a thought it was - what can I do? Please don't tell me not to keep the present - presents come along too rarely in this world, and I'm keeping it!

Why?

Is it just me or is this definitely not a sign of progress?

It may be hard to tell from this picture - but this is the newest version of Monopoly. The gimick - there's no money. Everything is done on your "Visa" debit card. How does this annoy me? Let me count the ways:

1. I think board games are a fantastic way for kids to learn - they start out learning to take turns, learning to be gracious winners and good losers, they learn counting, reading, logic, and yes - MATH skills.

2. Aren't we enough trouble as a credit-card dependent society? How many people are living beyond their means? The average American household carries $8,000 in credit card debt. Granted, I don't believe the game allows you to "spend" money you don't have - but the concept scares me.

3. As a kid - being the "Banker" in the Monopoly game was an honor that always went to the oldest child. Being the youngest, I never got to be banker unless I was playing with friends - not family. Where is that right of passage going to go - if you're just sliding a card through a machine?

Now, I haven't seen the game in person, and I don't really know how it works. My outrage is based on a commercial and a reading of the game description. Not enough to be considered an expert- but I never claimed to be.

I can, however, safely say that I will not be buying a copy of this game - with cash or credit.

Virtual Life

I managed to have a complete evening without ever leaving my house!

I had dinner with a friend. Well, technically, I had dinner with a friend. She was on one end of the phone, and I was on the other, and I was eating - munching in her ear. Aside from the long pauses while I was taking drinks of my lemonade - we had a great conversation, so that counts, right?

Oh, and for the rest of the evening, well, let's just say the phone has many uses...

Motivation and Rewards

I'm obsessed with rewards right now. I believe that they work well, and I'd much rather reward for good behavior than punish for bad behavior.

However, while I'm pretty good at coming up with rewards for everyone else - I find that I can't self-motivate with rewards. The main reason is that all the things I can think of require money, and I just don't have any. I'm trying so hard to be fiscally responsible, even though I've got those pretty little plastic cards calling my name. There are books I want, toes to be painted, restaurants to try - but I'm tempered by the lack of actual cash in my checking account. Damn It!

Damn It, Do I Have To?

Grow Up, that is.

My last post was about the weekend from the mom perspective. What I left out was the part of the weekend before my kids came home.

I addressed two fears on Saturday - old age and perception.

Fear # 1 - I set up a new IRA account. I have a 401 (K) that's sat around for years and years. I don't think about it - I don't look at my investments, I don't really do anything with it. I opened it when I was with a company years ago, as it was just one of those benefits that come with the job, and since I left that company 5 years ago, I haven't done anything with it since. However, I'm growing up now, and actually went to the bank to set up an IRA. Ok, so I'm getting a push to do it from the company I've been with for the last 3 1/2 years, but still... I did it, even chose the funds I wanted to invest in.

After I did that... I dealt with fear # 2.

I went to a movie. By myself. I know, that seems like a strange thing to be afraid of, and I don't know where it comes from. It's mostly a female thing, I think - I don't know a lot of men that are unwilling to go to a movie by themselves, but the majority of my female friends won't do it either. This was actually the second time I've gone to a movie alone, but the first was on a business trip, in another city, another state, and my meetings didn't start until the next day. I wonder why women are reluctant to do these things by themselves? I don't have any problem going to a restaurant alone - so why a movie? Maybe because I didn't have anyone to make smart-ass comments to? Maybe because I associate movies with dating - and therefore movies are foreplay? In any case, I did it. I didn't see a movie I was particularly interested in seeing, but it was the only R rated move at that theater - and I was proving a point! I can see R movies! Neener Neener - I'm a grown up.

Damn It.

Weekend

Ok, if I was up for the "Supermom" title before - I should clinch it this weekend!

The kids have had a really good first month at school. In the early years of grammar, school they do an active progressive discipline, where the child has to move a clothespin, or another marker if they don't follow the rules. They start out on a light color and move up - in Kindegarten there are 4 stages; white is good, yellow is a warning, blue is a time out, and red is parent notification). In 1st grade, they follow the traffic signal - green is good, yellow is a warning, and red is trouble!

Well, for the first month of school, my little angels have stayed on white and green - so it was time for a reward!

I got the kids back from their father on Saturday evening, and we had a nice, quiet evening in. On Sunday we were up bright and early, and off to pick up a friend. Then down to Tempe where we headed to a splash park. The one we had intended to go to was already closed for the season, but there was a smaller alternative. It was basically a playground with fountains and sprayers so the kids ran around playing, and doing their best to soak their momma. (Successfully, I might add).

From there we went to Chuck E. Cheese - for a few hours of entertainment and crappy pizza. By the end of the day, the grown-ups were worn out, and probably the kids, too, but it's harder to tell with them!

We got back into town in the mid afternoon, and after about an hour of play, I made dinner (yep, all food groups once again present and accounted for) and then we did a little craft project together.

Bedtime for the munchkins was a special treat, as I let them sleep in the same room - something they ask for all the time, but since it usually means a really late night, we don't so it often. However, I figured after the day they had - they wouldn't have the energy to stay up late!

This morning, we were up at at 'em early - as of this time (10:45) we've had baths, eaten breakfast, gone to the grocery store, and made dinner (the kids did most of the work (or so they like to think) but we've got chicken and veggies in the slow-cooker for later). In about 15 minutes, we're heading out for lunch and a movie, then back to finish our housework and homework, and then... (and here is where the gold medal supermom award comes in...)

We will have dinner. With their father. Yep. I am either an amazing parent or freakin' insane, but either way, T will be coming over for dinner. It was so hard for me not to see the kids for 2 days, that I can't imagine how T can do it for 3 - so I'm being a nice guy and letting him come have dinner with the kids and I.

So, keep fingers crossed for me... wish me a night of peace.

Beautiful

A conversation with my daughter last night:

Me: You're my beautiful girl, you know that?
A: But I'm not wearing my beautiful dress!
Me: But you're beautiful on the inside. In your heart, in your mind.
A: You can see my heart?
Me: Absolutely! When you paint me a picture, when you give me a hug, when you help me or your brother, when you want to make people feel better, when you cry because someone else is sad. I can see how beautiful your heart is all those times.

She didn't understand me, but if it sunk in on any level, that's one more point on my "Super-Mom" chart.

(Oh, the other points I earned yesterday were for feeding my children dinner with both a fruit AND a veggie, while mowing the lawn, taking out the trash, and cleaning - all before 7:00PM after a 9 1/2 hour day at the office)

Big Girls Don't Cry

I'm a sap. I know it. Everyone who's ever seen a movie with me knows it. Correction: Everyone who's ever seen a television show with me knows it as well as everyone who's ever seen me read a book.

So, here's a quick question for today.

Last night, before going to bed, I RE-watched the final episode of "Friends" and cried like a baby.

So, why haven't I shed a single tear over the end of my marriage?

What to Say?

My good friend was on my case last night for not having updated my Blog. When I told her that I didn't have anything to say lately, she said, "But you're going through a separation, you're painting your bathroom..."

Then I realized. I still have nothing to say. The drama is gone. I don't have witty anecdotes about how brainless men can be, because I don't have to deal with it! The most dramatic thing I've got going on at home right now is the 10 minutes of panic every morning trying to get my children dressed, brushed (teeth and hair), sunblocked, and bug sprayed, and into the car by 7:15.

I'm sure as I crawl out of my comfort zone and stick my neck out again, there will be more drama. As happy as I am in my anti-social world at the moment, I know that won't last. I'm going to want to actually LEAVE my house eventually, and when that happens I'll have plenty to say. I'm already getting asked if I'm going to start dating, and why don't I put up a personal, etc., etc., etc.

In the meantime, I will make an effort to put something up on this page - and I'll even give it an effort to be entertaining. You all like watching paint dry, right?

Why?

I have a simple question this morning.

I don't wear a lot of make-up, but I do understand why women do. I understand why women would even go so far as to choose to get permanent make-up put on. This is what I don't understand - if you were going to go through the expense, danger and perhaps pain (and at least stress) to get makeup permanently tattooed to your face -- WHY WOULD YOU CHOOSE POWDER BLUE EYE SHADOW???

Yes, I've seen it myself. The sales person at Sally Beauty Supply proudly showed me her permanent make-up - since it wasn't offered in the 70's at the height of powder-blue, WHY THE HELL DID SHE DO IT??

Anyone?

Go Army!

Remember that slogan the Army used to use for recruiting? How they did more before 8AM than most people did all day? With all due respect to those that serve(d) in the armed forces, they ain't got shit on a single mom with a full-time job!

Ok, so technically I'm not a single mom - but I am 4 days a week. Here's a summary of what I did yesterday:

Up bright and early, ran laundry (child had an accident), put away clothes in the dryer from the night before, vacuumed living room floor, ensured children were dressed in clean, semi-color matching clothes, with brushed teeth and hair, sunblocked said children, dropped them off to before-school care, went to work. Put in a good 9 1/2 hour day, pick up children from after-school care, get them home, bathed (complete with hair washing), made them a semi-healthy dinner (hey, MOST food groups were represented), then turned them over to a friend for an hour while I went to their school for parent's night, as well as to pick up all the soccer gear and forms for T, who volunteered to coach S's team. (Please note: *I* didn't volunteer, but I'm the one picking this stuff up, signing forms, choosing a practice field and day, etc.) Get home from the school, and say goodnight to one child, thank the friend/babysitter, play with the other child until his bedtime, then get him in bed. Then I was allowed to have dinner myself (three cheers for leftovers!) After that, I did some more cleaning, more laundry, and vacuumed my bedroom. Around 10:30 I went to bed.

Of course, being a sorta single mom - going to bed does not necessarily mean the end of the day! I had one child with a bad dream, one with a radio issue, one with shadows moving in her room, and one needed a Kleenex and couldn't find one. Yes, I know I only have two children.

This morning the routine starts all over again with the need to run the washing machine - *again* (Damn cat and her hairballs!), and all the rest...

Go Army - Let's See You Beat That!

Weekends Are Different Now

Well, this was the first weekend that included a custody transfer. T actually moved out a couple of weeks ago, but I took the kids out of town so this was the first time we actually had to do a kid exchange. It went amazingly well.

There was a little bit of fussing - but it was over a Lunchable. Of course, T, being the gentleman that he is, has to make sure that even though the kids aren't complaining in front of me, they were fussing about coming back to the house while in the car. I seriously think he thinks that it's a compliment to him, and an insult to me when the kids fuss about coming back to my house. He doesn't realize that it happens in the other direction, cuz I don't tell 'im!

After the exchange - I took the kids bowling with a friend, and they had a great time. They have already declared that they want to do that AGAIN next weekend.

As for me? I spent the rest of my weekend reclaiming my house. I emptied and reorgainzed cabinets, drawers, closets, etc. Moved furniture (all by myself, I'll have you know), changed the look and feel of the living room, playroom (and am working on my bedroom) - The kids loved the changes and said that the house looked really different, and that they were going to try to help keep it clean. (We'll see...)

By the end of the weekend, I was tired, sore and aching... and thrilled.

The Ol' Switcheroo

Today is Thursday. This is the first time the kids will be going over to T's new place instead of being with me. Is it wrong that I'm really looking forward to a night off?

Of course, the planned events for the evening don't involve nakedness, alcohol, or any of the usual ingredients to a fun evening. Instead I'll be going to the library, dropping off forms and paying for next week at the Y, then going shopping to fulfill some swap commitments. Sound dull? Not to me. This is an evening spent by myself - listening to the music I choose, taking as long as I want to wander through the store, stopping to look at whatever I want to look at in the library, if I want to stop and have a snack - by gum, I will! I don't have a curfew, I don't have to check in, there is nobody waiting for me.

Funny, all the years I spent wanting someone waiting for me at home, and now I'm so glad to have one evening where there isn't anyone there.

Hi Me! Nice to see Me again!

A Long Overdue Update

Ok, so it's not that it's been that long since I posted an entry. It's what I haven't said in those entries that's overdue.

T and I split up. I know, I'm sure you're all totally shocked and appalled. Ok, maybe not. He and I split up a few weeks ago, and he moved out last weekend.

I know I'm supposed to be feeling sad for the end of my marriage, but why do I feel like doing the Watoosie? (Or some similar dance, that I actually KNOW how to do?) In many ways, my life has gotten harder - but I feel so much lighter. I feel like I want to come home again, even if it's just to do the laundry, cleaning, reorganizing, that I've been putting off for so long. I want to be there -I want to be with my kids, without thinking that whatever I say is going to be taken in 12 different ways (and none of them accurate). I am going to be able to have conversations with the children without anyone else interrupting because they need attention too. I'm going to be able to believe what people in my house say. I'm going to be able to build a safe, relaxing, fun home for my children.

The big thing is how the kids are doing about all of this. They cried when we told them that he was moving out - for about 10 minutes. Then they wanted to go to Del Taco. They are given every opportunity to ask any questions, talk about their feelings, but so far the big questions have been: From A: "How did daddy move that couch by himself"? and from S: "We have two pets at daddy's house, and only one here. That's not fair - we need another pet at this house." Ahh... the big issues...

I have so many ideas rolling around in my head - I want to paint, redecorate, reorganize, I need a lot of money. Donations are welcome!

Question of the Day

Do you still believe in fairy tales?

Do you still believe in "Happily Ever After"?

I had an interesting conversation with a friend of my last night, and I'm happy to report that he still believes in the power and the existence of unquestionable, undeniable, unconditional love. Do you?

Discuss.

August 1st

I always used to love the first day of a new month. I made a little ceremony out of changing my calendar over. "Calendar Changing Day" I called it. OK, so I wasn't too creative as a child.

Now it seems like a new month presents a new list of things to get done - meetings that seemed further off are now right in front of me, more birthdys to think about, not to mention all the bills that come with the first of the month.

Where did the summer go? My kids are starting school in a couple of days! How is this possible? Why is it, that when we're kids, time moves incredibly slow, especially as we wait for something we are looking forward to. Now, I can't seem to slow down enough to catch my breath.

If any one of you has the secret to slowing time down, would you please share?

Children are Sneaky

Oh sure, they look all cute and innocent - but it's all an act. They're evil, I tell you!

Why else would my daughter know that if she asks to sleep in my room at bedtime, I'll say no. However, if she plays that "I had a bad dream" card after midnight, she finds herself tucked in and momma finds herself tired the next day?

She actually stayed fairly still, so I don't have any bruises to prove my theory, but the momma instinct kicked in full strength, and every time she got to close to the edge, I woke up with a start - terrified she'd plummet to the ground.

So today, you get no witty commentary, you may get some comics, depending on how much free time I have...

Happy Tuesday... SWEET dreams!

And another...

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

A new take on an old question

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Two Reasons to be Depressed

I went to K-Mart today to buy the kids the supplies they needed for school. $85 later, I have the new Princess lunchbox, the new football lunch box, the water colors, hand sanitizers, boxes of Kleenex, markers, plastic folders, pencils (both regular and colored) and the crayons.

I don't even include spending the money in my reason for being upset. Rather, it was the statement that the teenage clerk made. to my comment, "Wow, school is expensive". His response "Is this for high school?"

Reason for Depression #1: I look old enough to have high school kids?
Reason for Depression #2: This kid was probably just out of high school - does he actually think that crayons and lunchboxes are part of the curriculum? What are they teaching in HIGH school now?

I'm going back to Wal-Mart, where they ask me if I'm 18.

Moms

I always thought I knew the kind of parent I wanted to be. You know they type - the sexy MILF, the woman who doesn't look old enough or fat enough to have a kid. At the same time, she's totally oblivious to how she affects men. Her children are always well groomed, in matching, color-coordinated clothes, smiling, polite, etc.

All that changed over an Orange Mocha Frappuccino Light this morning.

The woman was obviously middle-aged, a bit overweight, not especially fashionable. The kid was wearing black pants and a T-shirt. Nothing remarkable - except that I couldn't take my eyes off of them. The woman was animated, making large-sweeping gestures with her hands. The kid, or rather the teenager, was totally engaged; responsive, involved, and enjoying himself.

When it was time for the woman to leave, the teenager, who was actually starting his shift at Starbucks, showed no signs of embarrassment, didn't even look around the room as he gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Now, *that* is the kind of mom I want to be. (Of course, if I'm a MILF too, I won't complain!)

Born Again

No, not in a religious way.

It feels like I've got a newborn in the house again. S is sick. Has been sick since Sunday - and is currently unable to sleep through the night. When we were flying home, A was sick, and I just assumed this was the same thing, but now I'm not so sure.

A had a fever, and a slightly upset stomach (threw up once - in the airport - lovely), but the Tylenol always worked, and she was fine after 3 days. S is still running a fever. Or is running a fever again. I'm not sure.

For the last two nights, I haven't slept more than an hour and a half at a stretch. That's probably why this Blog entry is lacking it's usual wit and spark.

Monday night we had our first real storm of the monsoon season. So, between the thunder and lightening, the power outage, the screaming child (afraid of the power outage), the sick child (ok, same child, but different issue), the howling dog, and the fact that a flea fart can wake me up - I didn't sleep much.

Last night, the sick child went to sleep - I woke him up around 9:30 to give him some more medicine, to hopefully get him through the night. I went to sleep around 11. He was up at 12:15 - his clothes had been soaked through because he broke the fever, so he climbed into bed with me. At 1:00, the dog started barking, and by this point, S was getting stuffy again and kept trying to breathe through his nose, which made him frustrated and he'd whimper in his sleep. Since I had to get up to get the dog to quiet down, I crashed on the couch for a little while. Very little while. S needed water. Got him the water. Encouraged him to go to the bathroom, was denied. A little while later, I convinced him that his bed was dry - and wouldn't he like to sleep there? He went back to his own room, but needed something else around 4 - for some reason - I can't remember what. At 6:00 I heard him on the couch - snorting and whimpering again. The damn fever was back!

I tried to get him to eat a banana, he took a few bites, but that was it. He is drinking water though - a lot of water - so at least I know he's not dehydrated.

I get dressed, and run to Wally World to get some Tylenol plus Cold medicine - I wanted to help with the fever and the stuffy nose - and all I had for that was expired Children's Motrin Cold, which I didn't want to give him on his empty belly.

I get asked at Wal-Mart if I'm 18. Apparently, people are now getting high by drinking children's cold medicine. Ok, you all did get the part about me being asked if I was 18, right? Just checking.

I got back, medicated my kid, gathered my belongings and had to go wake T to take over. I want S to get to a doctor today, I think it's a sinus infection. (First thought was Strep - but the symptoms aren't quite right).

Oh, and did I mention that while looking for something to help my sick little boy, I stumbled across T's porn collection last night. Lovely.

Bad Luck

Ok, I'm not really a superstitious person. In fact, in high school, I did an entire report on the origins and fallacies of superstitions. However, this Friday the 13th kicked my butt.

Well, technically, it was the week of the 13th - I had bad luck starting on Monday night. More on that later.

On Friday the 13th, I finally made it back to my office, where I can't help but feel that my travel delays were not exactly believed 100%. Not that I can blame anyone, I don't believe them myself, and I was there!

Anyway - I'm getting through my in-box, I'm trying to clear out my e-mail, etc., and we lose power. COMPLETELY. We have a generator (and a purportedly gorgeous generator guy) so that kicked in and we were able to limp along. However, the less important things aren't on the generator, so that meant no music, no lights, but worst of all no air conditioning. (Did I mention that it was 98 degrees that day?)

Power comes back on, and we get nice and cooled off. Near the end of the day we had an all-hands on deck situation - so I was needed in multiple places at once. We get through that, and I end up having to stay late to get my reporting done - so I leave around 5:40 that evening. (Of course I'd come in an hour early anyway!) so it was a very long first day back.

Unfortunately, the weekend wasn't exactly the time to relax and recuperate from our trip. We had to make the choice to put down one of our dogs this weekend. She was 15 years old, and had a good life, but that doesn't make it any easier. It was especially tough on T, who'd had her since she was a puppy and S, who is a sweet, sensitive boy. They both went to the vet to say good-bye, where I stayed home with A, who was sad, but not as affected by this. A had a party to go to, which served as a great distraction for her for the rest of the day and T and S went to go play golf - some nice bonding time, and hopefully helped them relax, too.

The bad luck continued the next day when S woke me up bright and early - with a fever. I spent most of the day dosing him with Tylenol and trying to force fluids down his throat. T went to work, and I played low-key bubble blowing games with the kids, then let them lie down on the couch for a movie. Amazingly enough, they both went to sleep pretty early, which was surprising since they both napped during the day - not a typical thing for them at all!

Of course, he's still sick this morning, and T has him at home. T worked last night, but with all the extra time I missed because of the travel fiasco, I couldn't imagine even attempting to call in to work today. Hopefully, S will sleep some, and T will be able to as well.

I will post about the trip, and about the delights of travelling with United Airlines. Don't worry - you won't miss out on a thing. However, as I'm still playing catch-up at work - that'll have to wait for another day.

Trip - Day 1

What's this? An unattended computer attached to the Internet? Well, then let's begin...

First of all, the kids did great - I really couldn't have asked for better. They slept from before the first plane took off until it landed, woke up, got on the shuttle, had a snack, got on the other plane, and went back to sleep. That part was great!

However, the airports and the airlines were horrible! They had cancelled a few flights over the last few days, so of course, they overbooked mine. The first leg went fine, I was able to convince the person (at first I wasn't sure, but it turned out to be a woman) to switch seats with me and take the aisle. The second leg of the flight was fubar from jump street. When I went to the kiosks to check in, I only got half of the boarding passes for the second leg. I got an employee at the airline to figure it out, and he got the other two passes printed, but only three of them had seat assignments - they had put T and S in the exit row - (hello?? 6 year old in emergency exit row - not allowed), they had put me in row 4, and A didn't have a seat. I tried to fix it, and was told I'd have to address it in Philadelphia.

We get to Philadelphia, and of course, the plane is late, then it's even later because of some problem with the gate. Then we get out of the plane (we were in the second to last, and last rows of course) and hustle to the new gate (which requires a long walk, a shuttle ride, and another long walk). I get there and the lovely lady (insert heavy sarcasm here) told me that the flight was oversold and that she'd try to get A a seat. I reiterated again - that she is 5 years old!!! She's not getting bumped or flying alone!!! The woman tried to say she will have to wait and see if there is a seat available, but I think she figured out from my evil look, that this was not an option. So she puts her in row 12. Hello? SHE'S 5 YEARS OLD! SHE IS NOT SITTING AWAY FROM HER FAMILY. This "customer service" employee's response? "You'll have to work it out on the plane, I can't play musical seats".

We get on the plane, and the flight attendant tells me just to take all of row 12. (Again, the back of the plane) - ok, fine. However, she doesn't tell anyone else this, so I get the pleasure of dealing with a very angry woman at 7AM - who tells me that "it's not her problem" that I'm in her seat, that she doesn't want to hear it, and that I can just take it up with the flight attendant. She then went on to complain about how she was being treated. She eventually took the seat, but I just love how I'm supposed to deal with these passengers now!!!

Anyway, we made it, we're here, and for the most part we had a lovely day.

My sister and her children met us at the airport, then we all drove over to my parent's place for coffee (never has a sight been so welcome), and various breakfasty foods. Play time for the kids, of course, and it was wonderful to see how well they got along again, even after not having seen each other for nearly a year!

We then went strawberry picking (pictures will be added later - you'll have to check back for those after I get home), then we went our separate ways for naps. Of course, my children didn't sleep! They slept maybe 5 1/2 hours altogether, but didn't take a nap! T did, of course. I was left to take care of the kids, and continually remind them to be quiet because Daddy was napping. There's something wrong with that!

After naps, we drove over to the new house my parents were buying so that we could see it - it's beautiful, big and grand, and has a lot of potential, but I'm worried that they're getting in over their heads both financially initially, and on upkeep. From the house we take a short walk down to the beach - a private little button-hole sized beach, but the kids had a great time dipping their toes in the waves, watching the boats go by, looking for sea glass, etc. (Again, come back later for the photos!)

Well, it's now 8:30 locally, and I've slept about 3 hours in the last 36, so I'm pretty pooped. Tomorrow we're driving to Bar Harbor (it's about 4 hours away), and then the REAL vacation begins.

More updates soon!

Vacay?

I've always been good at multi-tasking. For example, right now I'm both looking forward to and dreading my trip. Let's break it down:

Things to look forward to:
Fun time with the kids
The Beach
Sleep
Seeing my brother for the first time in over a year.
Meeting his girlfriend.
Seeing my sister for the first time in just under a year.
Seeing my niece and nephew and watching them play with the kids.
Seeing my parents - especially now that mom is healthy.
Relaxing.
Geocaching in a brand new area and state.

Things to dread:
The flight.
A lot of uncomfortable time with T
Talking to the family about making the decision.
Making the decision.

Ok, I'm a logical sort of gal - for now - things to look forward to outnumber the things to dread. We'll go with that.

I probably won't be able to do a lot of updates while I'm gone - I though about bringing my laptop, but decided I just didn't want to carry it!

Take care, and I'll catch you all on the flip side!

Today's Lesson

Focus on the moment.

That's my motto for today. I'm often feeling like I'm waiting. I'm waiting for the weekend, waiting for Monday, waiting for 5:00, waiting for vacation, etc. I remember as a child making fun of my father for planning his next meal while eating his current one. At breakfast, we'd talk about lunch, at lunch we'd plan dinner. I thought it was a terrible way to spend the time. I was right. So, why am I doing the equivalent?

During the work day, I'm thinking about what I need to get done at home. When I'm at home, I'm thinking about what I need to get done when the kids are in bed. When the kids are in bed, I'm thinking about what time I need to get up the next morning. You see the pattern.

So, last night I stopped myself. I had laundry to run, dishes to do, needed to get packed for my trip, needed to eat dinner. But I stopped. Looked. Listened. I sat on the couch, across from my children and just looked at them. Of course, then I had to get up and take the following pictures, because they were too cute not to. I especially like how the cat works her way into the scene.

So that's the plan for today, folks - focus on the moment, taste it, savor it, don't rush onto the next bite.

New Low

I sunk to a new low last night. This one was surprising, even for me.

I watched a movie on the Lifetime Channel. (I'll pause for you to be shocked and pick yourselves back up off the floor). Ready?

Ok, this wasn't just an out-of-date chick flick finding a home for a couple of hours on the Lifetime Channel - this was an honest - made for women - made for television - made for Lifetime Original Movie - starring Jennie Garth of course. (Come On now, if it weren't for Lifetime what would those girls from 90210 do with themselves??)

It was called Girl Posi+ive (see how clever they are over there - using the plus sign for a "t" - you just can't buy entertainment like that!) Anyway, it's the story of two pretty blonde females that are positive for HIV. The movie takes place on a high school - and the audience (I have to assume I wasn't the only one) gets part of the information via really hip things like text messages, a video blog, and a MySpace Page.

The part of the movie that bothered me (aside from the part about me watching it) was the idea that kids in high school still didn't know much about the virus - and that the CDC is recommending that everyone be screened annually starting at age 13. Age 13????

Holy shit. I am in no way ready to be a parent of a teenager.

Annoyed

Ok, so you may have figured out by now that I complain a lot. It's really not me, there's just a lot TO complain about! However, I realized that I may have hit a new low this weekend on the annoyance factor.

I got annoyed at someone. I have no idea who. I will never know who.

I'm reading a fluffy little novel about a group of friends in England called "Bookends". This book has been out a fairly long time - it was published in this country in 2002. I checked this book out from the library (as is my wont). One of the previous readers of this book has decided that she knows more about the rules of grammar in the English language than the author, her editors, the countless proofreaders and the publishing company. The person actually has scratched out "I" and written in "me" so far in two places. In at least one case - our self-appointed goddess of grammar is WRONG! If she was going to change the word at all - it should have been changed to "myself" not "me". However, although I consider myself pretty literate, I don't know the rules of the REAL English language (you know, the one in England - not the bastardized version that we use here), so I cannot comment.

However, I will rest better at night, knowing that the Jackie Colling smutty vacation book I'm currently waiting for - will be grammatically correct - what a relief!

I Slept!

Wow...

For the second night in a row, I slept. This is quite an accomplishment, as I didn't take a sleeping pill, I didn't take any pain medication, I didn't drink my weight in vodka - I was tired, and remained tired - even while laying down!

True, the work drama has settled down - so maybe that's helping. I'm not thrilled with my new role, but for the time being, I'm doing it as best as I can. My home life still is in that silent, stiff phase... similar to a new pair of shoes, except this is costing me a lot more, and I'm not sure that it'll get broken in and comfortable. (However, from what I'm hearing from several of my friends - it's very fashionable to have a questionable marriage at the moment.)

Perhaps, I just reached the point of pure exhaustion and once again - the body took over and made me sleep. Whatever the reason, I'm grateful.
'

I (t) M (i)

I am a self proclaimed instant messaging junkie. When the kids are in bed, the ol' Yahoo happy face comes out to play. In reality, it's an amazing tool - I'm able to keep in touch with friends that live in different states, have conversations at both parties convenience. If a kid pops out of bed, it's a lull, but unlike a phone call, it doesn't stop the whole process.

However, I do believe that IM is leading to I (t) M (i) - for me the Instant Too Much Information!

There is a person on my list that I never really speak to; it's a friend of a friend sort of thing. However, I keep her on the list for pure entertainment. The information that she puts in her "status" is just mind-boggling. I've seen things like "in the shower"; "watching tv"; "relaxing" - um... ok...

However, I've also seen "send me your address"; "planning the funeral"; "shopping for new underwear" - what's next "pooping"?

I Have A Serious Problem

Here it is in a nice, encapsulated statement: I don't want to be at home, and I don't want to be at work.

Ok, so now what? According to all the 12 step programs I'm familiar with, admitting you have a problem is the first step. Would someone please tell me what the second one is?

OK, you all already know the overview on the home life, so I'll start with work.

Last Friday things went Kablooie. One of the three team managers that worked for me resigned. She offered to work her two week's notice, but I generally make it a practice to not do that - I figure two weeks of a "what are you going to do - fire me?" attitude causes more harm than the good that is reaped from having someone there for two weeks to show you where the spreadsheet that shows people's birthdays is.

So, there was a semi-panicked meeting. I say semi-panicked, because a contingency plan was already created. We decided to restructure, putting one manager where there once was two, and offering the third manager a non-management role. She declined - so I lost another person.

So, as of Monday, I'm now doing my job, plus the job of the manager that was moved to the newly created department. On Monday it was pure chaos - moving office, computers, phones, training for the moved manager, training for me on the details of her old role... well, you get the idea.

I think it's a lot to ask - to ask me to continue to do my full-time job, and now also do another full-time job. All in the same amount of full-time. Of course, I'm going on vacation, so I have to also train my boss to do the details of what I do, so that there's coverage when I'm gone.

All of these things are reasonable requests, I've been through lean times. Here's the problem - I don't like coming in anymore. In addition to being concerned about the work load, I was given a lecture on Monday morning about not being friends with people that work for me. I understand that from a business perspective, I do. However, when the lecture includes that I handled everything perfectly, that I obviously didn't let friendships interfere with my decisions, that I've done amazing things for this company for the last 3 years, but ... I heard, you did everything right, now don't do that again.

I don't have a lot of friends to begin with, and to be told that I can't socialize with pretty much every person I know in town - why bother? I LIKE these people, that's why I liked coming to my job. I'd probably be better off finding another job and keeping these people as friends... in any other city, I'd say that would be easier - but jobs that will pay my bills are hard to come by around here.

This is a pretty rambling, venting kind of entry, I apologize for it, but you might need this info to keep up in the saga.

Dipping

If you've ever read "Running with Scissors" or seen the movie - you'll probably remember one of Augusten Burroughs visual explanations of the oddities of his therapist and his family: "Bible Dipping". The idea was that you'd ask a question, then open The Bible to any page - plop your finger down on a word - and there was your answer. It was like calling God on the phone and asking if they should have fishsticks for dinner.

Ok, so that was used as an example of eccentricity, but I can't say that I'm that far off. Ok, so I don't go looking for simple answers to simple questions, but I do find "hidden meaning" in words that I read and hear. For those of you that know me well, you probably already know that my personal mantra was taken from a classic, inspirational film: Finding Nemo. Dorie is one of the wisest characters, living or drawn, that I've ever seen. My mantra? "Just keep swimming... just keep swimming..." (Said of course with a nice uplifting lilt.)

So now that I'm trying to mentally prepare for making some of life's biggest decisions, I'm amazed at where I find hints... romance novels, songs on the radio, heck, even commercials are providing food for thought. You know what I need? A diet! Not from food, but from food for thought. I need a break! I need a sensory deprivation chamber. I need... I need... an Alicia Silverstone movie!