Wednesdays

I hate Wednesday mornings, but I love Wednesday evenings. How is this possible?

Wednesday morning is the last morning I have with my kids before they go to dad's house for a couple of days. Well, unless, of course, he's asked me to take them extra (which is pretty much a weekly thing).

My last kid hug for the duration happens on the sidewalk in front of the school. My last kiss is one that is pretty quick, after all there are friends to be played with. My last hug is bumpy with books and morning snacks. My last "I love you" is returned as they go flying down the sidewalk to play.

Then I go to work. There are no kisses, no hugs, no "I love you"s - well, ok, sometimes there are, but usually only if an employee wants something.

However, on Wednesday night, there's a transition. Now it's just me and D. An adult evening, where language isn't censored, where kissing is not followed by a pipsqueak voice saying "That's Disgustin'!"

This week's Wednesday will be spent keeping one eye on the Sundogs score, as they play game 3 in the cup finals in Colorado. Hopefully, the other one will be closed - after all it's kind of rude to keep your eyes open when kissing, isn't it?

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...

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.

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!

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?

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.