Week 2 of My Bad Attitude

I've had it this week. I thought last week I had a fuck everybody attitude, this week I not only want to say fuck everybody, I want to kill them too.

 My kids have been in rare form, fighting constantly, my daughter has had bowel issues and accidents at camp, my son said this morning he was sick of our family because I had the nerve to tell him to put his shoes on when it was time to leave. Then, when we got to camp this morning, the kids fought over whose turn it was to get dropped off first. Why it matters I have no idea but I'm not 6 and 9 so I guess I couldn't possibly understand the importance of that. My daughter and her friend swore it was my son's turn to be dropped off first so I went with that even though my son said he got dropped off first yesterday. Excuse me for not remembering, I can barely remember my own name at this point.

So I dropped my son off first and he burst into tears and wouldn't let me go and then he said, "I miss Daddy". Call me a heartless bitch but I think he said that as a manipulative ploy to gain my sympathy. Is that possible at six years old? Yes, I think it is. I hugged him extra hard and told him to have a good day but I'm not giving in every time one of my kids brings out the "I miss Daddy" card.

 After walking out to my car, it dawned on me that my son was right, he had indeed been dropped off first two days in a row. The horrors, the injustice of it all. Tomorrow I have a new rule - Mommy decides who gets dropped off first and there's no arguing, and if there is arguing then whoever argues will get dropped off first the next day too.

 My kids may never see their iPods again. I'm tired of the attitudes, tired of the not listening, tired of the arguing. I'm going away to visit a friend in Washington DC this weekend, my parents are watching the kids for me. I'm going to be the first one on the plane, and my happiness at flitting away may be enough to fuel the jet all the way to DC.

Update:  Oh, and I forgot to mention that I'm renting a room out in my house to a woman who was advertising that she needed a place to stay in my town. I've checked her references and done a background check on her. If she murders me in my sleep, everyone who is advising me that this is a bad idea can say "I told you so". I'm not that worried about the inconvenience of having a stranger in my house. Probably because the kids and I will be at my parents' house for most of August. Check back with me again in late August when we return home and there's a stranger using my toilet and shower.

Christmas In July

I've started my Christmas shopping a bit early for the douche in my life.

The Onion

Oh Deer

You know the feeling you get when you think if you didn't have bad luck you wouldn't have any luck at all? Tonight my son and I were on the way home from the grocery store and a kamikaze deer ran right into us. The deer flew off our car and I was thanking God that it wasn't a moose because they'd be picking pieces of my face out of the windshield if that was the case. 

I didn't think much damage was done, to the car at least, the deer was road kill. When I got home I opened the car door and nothing. Hmmm. What is this? I pushed against it and finally it stubbornly creaked a few inches open. Yeah, there's damage. The hood is bent, the front headlight is toast, the side panel has a lot in common with the McDonald's arch. I'm thinking of suing the deer but I'm betting he was one of the many uninsured reckless mammals running around. FML. 

WTF Is She Thinking?

Why can we see so clearly other people's situations but we can't see our own? This whole debacle with Anthony Weiner and his wife.... WTF is she thinking? Why doesn't she drop him like a piece of dog shit stuck to her shoe? She's a professional woman with a great career, attractive, seems to have plenty of money to survive. I understand she shares a child with this dickhead but seriously, she wants to be around that sicko who can't be trusted to keep his dick in his pants and out of photos?

I'm not saying my husband is the exact carbon copy of Weiner. My husband isn't holding a press conference fielding questions about his lascivious photos but there are some similarities. Thank God my asshat isn't in politics, I couldn't stand the spotlight being that intense. My husband does seem to get some sick thrill in talking explicitly with women (other than his wife of course) and sharing 'pieces' of himself with them. Maybe he would say that I didn't worship at the altar of his penis enough. He should have sent me some pics of it, and then I could have waxed poetic. Yet I still occasionally think about him (or maybe the 'him I thought he was') and mourn.

I'm going to take my own thoughts about the Anthony/Huma Weiner story and give myself a good talking to.... He's a sick twisted individual, you are better off without him in your life. You have to share children with him and that really kind of sucks but live your life according to what kind of person you want to be and what kind of person you want your children to be. And hopefully your children will grow up to be just like their mother and nothing like their father. <Harsh, some might say, but that's how I feel.>

I Love It When a Plan Doesn't Come Together

I'm the opposite of Hannibal Smith from the A Team. I love it when a plan doesn't come together. 

F*ck Everybody

Fuck everybody and the horse they rode in on.... Ever have one of those days, months, lives where you just want to have that as a recorded message and play it to anyone/everyone who talks to you? And I'm not even PMSing! Wow, I am in a horrible mood. And I should be over the moon since cheater asshat is one state away from me and I don't have to worry about seeing him and his cheater mobile around town. I'm sick of everything... and not in a poor me, why has this happened kind of way. I'm just fed up with E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.NG. I can't even read divorce blogs. Blah, blah, blah, my husband left me, whine, whine, whine. I should be sympathetic right? I should be more caring. But this week, I don't give a shit. AT ALL. I am likely going straight to hell and this week just confirms that.

One of my friends invited the kids and I over to supper tonight. Oh, that'll be fun, said the extrovert that pretends to be me sometimes. Then my friend informed me a few hours before supper that she also invited another couple over so that the other couple's son and my son can play and oh, so her husband can have a friend there as well. Hmmm, she needs to invite another couple over because I don't have a spouse any more? Because I don't have a significant other? As appealing as it sounds to be a fifth wheel to two couples who I'm sure will sit arm and arm around the dinner table, I tried to beg off and say that I'm not sure I'm up for a couples night when I'm NOT PART OF A COUPLE ANYMORE. She said, it's not a couple's night, it's just so all the boys have someone to play with. (Boys being the husbands as well as the six-year olds of course.)

I should be happy that I have friends who want to hang with me, I should be happy that I'm not a social outcast, but instead I'm annoyed. I guess my feelings aren't valid. And then as I write this I get sick of myself and I hear blah, blah, blah. Feelings, schmeelings....You have this friend who is willing to feed you and your two kids for the evening and remember, you HATE to cook. You should be grateful and thrilled that you won't have to burn those grilled cheese sandwiches and can partake in someone else's cooking for the night. You should be happy your kids don't have to suffer through your less than stellar culinary skills.

So here's where I kick myself in the ass and say get the fuck over yourself. I'll go to the supper and I'll sing kum-ba-yah around the campfire with the other couples who will look adoringly into each others' eyes and whisper "I love you" as they gulp back their microbrews. And I'll clasp my rum and diet coke with my non-wedding ring clad hand and I'll whisper "Stop making farting sounds" to my children as they climb all over me.

I'm sure tomorrow I'll reflect on the evening and say I had a perfectly lovely time but today, I go into it with my sorry-ass attitude intact.

The Children Are Our Future...

...teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside. Give them a sense of pride to make it easier... Thank you Whitney Houston for that song I can never get out of my head. RIP Whitney. 

I took my daughter to her first counseling appointment last week. At the end of the school year, my daughter's teacher and her guidance counselor were concerned about her self esteem. The divorce, her grandmother's cancer, my kidney stone, issues with school work. If I were 9 and was going through all that, I'd be a little insecure too. My daughter's teacher wanted to meet to discuss her self esteem issues. Getting the teacher's email literally a week before school ended made me want to scream... or kill the teacher. Yeah, probably kill the teacher. I honestly didn't have the energy to deal with it then. I was basically just skating to the finish line of the last day of school and the freedom that the summer would bring. I didn't see much point in scheduling a meeting with a teacher she wasn't going to have again nor talking with a guidance counselor she wouldn't be seeing over the summer. I'm not a bad mother, I'm just a mother who temporarily checked out of everything to lick my wounds. Don't call Social Services, I was done for a while there but I'm back now. 

Since our vacation with my sister and niece is over and I have my head out of the pain-filled divorce cloud, I finally scheduled my daughter to see a counselor. The counselor was nice, very nice. She was a little new-age-y/love child-y/free spirit-y. Are all female counselors that way? Tony Soprano's counselor wasn't but that's a tv show so I'm not sure if that's a valid exception to the rule or not. Anyway, the counselor, who I'm going to call Poppy (for no reason other than it makes me giggle), was very nice. My daughter was chatty and giggly and seemed to feel instantly at ease with her. Maybe it was the huge Bernese mountain dog that sat at her feet the whole time (Poppy's mascot apparently) that made my daughter open up but I'm going to stick with the reason being that Poppy is good at what she does.  

We talked with Poppy about why we were there. I mentioned the divorce and Poppy asked whose idea the divorce was. I said my husband's. My daughter looked at me and said I thought it was both of yours. I said no, Daddy made the decision. I'm probably doing the exact opposite of what the divorce 'experts' would say. You need to suck up the shit sandwich and let the kids think it was a joint decision. Uh no, I don't think so. I won't lie to my kids about that. When I told one of my friends afterwards about Poppy asking that question, my friend wanted to know why that was even important and that maybe I shouldn't lay the blame at my husband's feet in front of my daughter. That person is no longer my friend. Ha, just kidding, but I did tell my friend that I'm not going to let my kids think that I had much of a choice in their father's decision. I am not going to let them believe that I imploded our family willingly. Does it really matter? Should Poppy have asked that question? I don't know but if I was my daughter, I'd probably want to know what the heck just happened to my safe family that seemed fine six months ago. 

Poppy asked my daughter what she was worried about and my daughter said nothing. Then Poppy listed off things that she would be worried about if she were my daughter. Is Daddy lonely? Is Mommy lonely? Is Grandma going to be okay? Are we going to have to move? Am I going to be able to do the schoolwork of a fourth-grader? If we move, will I make new friends? 

Was this validating what my daughter might be feeling and therefore was a good thing to discuss? Or was it putting ideas in her head? I don't know. This being a parent is challenging shit. When I signed up to be a parent, I didn't expect to have to be doing it on my own, all the worrying and wondering about the kids. I'd like to think in my husband's pea sized brain, there's a fraction of what I'm worried about in there. But I'm betting he's just worried about what his supper will be that night and not whether his kids are going to grow up to be successful, well adjusted human beings. Maybe I'm not giving him enough credit though, I'm slightly biased by the vision of his 'OMG, that's disgusting' pics in my kitchen. 

Poppy gave my daughter some homework to do before the next session - make up a list of all the things she's worried about. A few days ago, my daughter and I were driving in the car in the middle of a bad rainstorm. As we pulled over on the side of the road because the torrential downpour made seeing almost impossible, my daughter yelled from the backseat, "I'm going to put dying in a car accident in the rain on my worry list!" 

So I guess that will be the topic of Poppy's discussion with my daughter at the next visit. Rainstorms and car accidents = worrisome. Divorce and moving = no big deal. If that's actually the case with my daughter, then I'm going to cut myself a break and maybe think that she's going to come through this divorce okay.

Boston Here We Come

The heart is a curious organ. It has a way of being melancholic for no reason. This weekend I'm going to Boston with a friend and our four kids. I'm sure it'll be a fun time but there's a little tug in my heart because it's not a family trip. In fact, there won't be any more family trips in the future. No more Celtics game or trips to a Maine beach with the kids glued to their electronics in the backseat and my husband and I in the front seat bemoaning how addicted they are to their little screens.

I wish my heart would remember the little annoying things that occurred on those trips that made me wonder sometimes if my husband even wanted to be there or if he was having a good time. I wish my heart would remember that vacations of summers past very often included trips with friends instead of my husband, either because he was working or was deployed or he just didn't want to go. Unfortunately, the heart has a way of saying, "Pssst, here's one more situation where your kids are going to be missing something. No more vacations as a family of four." Will my kids even dwell upon that? I'm thinking they won't. But why does the aura of divorce have to taint everything now?

Mom, Put Your Gun Back In The Holster

I was finally able to get a mortgage person to email me back after three attempts to three different companies. Either they have more business than they can handle or they could sense I was a desperate divorcing woman and they didn't want to deal with me. My main question was about child support and alimony and could it be counted as income in order to qualify for a higher mortgage. The mortgage person said that you have to prove that you've been receiving court ordered support for at least six months and you need to prove that you will continue to receive it for at least three years after closing. Soooo, I can't even think about getting a mortgage until I've been divorced for at least six months. Unless I want the mortgage based on just my own salary and in the areas that I'm looking at, that should qualify me for a deluxe cardboard box on one-thousandth of an acre, indoor plumbing not included. 

I'm once again evaluating my options. Stay in my house for a year and then I'll be able to prove at that point that I've been receiving child support for at least six months. (Whatever the amount of child support is, of course, since I still have no word on that). I could put my house on the market because it will probably take a while to sell it. But then if it sells more quickly than six months, I'm left scurrying to find a place for us to live. Or I could just move in with my parents right off while I try to sell the house. That means the kids start school in my parents' town and buying a home in our current town is off the table because I don't want the kids to have to yoyo back and forth between schools. Or I could maybe, maybe, plan on keeping my house because I might be able to qualify for the whole mortgage as long as child support is considered income. But I don't know if I still want that big expensive house. Confused yet? I hope so because I sure am. 

Tonight my father said he had a plan. He's going to evict my mother in law who rents the other side of their duplex and then he's going to renovate it and let the kids and I live there rent free. He then laughed and said he hoped my mother in law hadn't heard him say that so I'm pretty sure he was joking. Then he asked me what I would do if my husband agrees to an amount of child support and then months later doesn't pay it. My mother said she knows what she'd do. Shoot him. And then she most definitely did not laugh so I'm pretty sure she wasn't joking. I love my parents. 

Dear Kim Kardashian

Life is hard when you're a 'plotter' especially when you're an obsessive-compulsive one like me. Your thoughts and your days are spent worrying about every step you make. You think about the future incessantly. Should you look for another job? Should you sell your house? Should you this? Should you that? It's really quite exhausting.

I think my next step is going to be sending a letter to Kim Kardashian asking her to sponsor me in my divorce. I know she'll be sympathetic. She just went through a divorce recently. I'm pretty sure that's going to be my golden ticket to keeping my house and living happily ever after. I'm betting that I could survive this divorce if I had enough money for me and my kids, to keep us in the lifestyle that we are accustomed to. I probably wouldn't even miss my husband. Well, except for maybe his cooking. Damn, he's a good cook, and if there's one thing I hate to do, it's cook. But if Kim gives me enough money, I could hire my own personal chef and problem solved. 

Communication Challenged

Today I went to pay the bills like I do every month. For some reason I checked the balance of one of my husband's loans and it had been paid off...last month. I think it might have been paid off even before I made last month's payment. I texted Army Boy to ask if he had paid it off and his response was 'I did'. I wanted to leap through the phone and say it would have been nice to know that, mother fucker, since I'm still paying the bills but I just gritted my teeth and did nothing. Communication is non-existent. Nil. Nada. I might as well be married to a fence post. Actually I would prefer that because then I could knock the fence post over and my troubles would be gone. 

I'm leaning towards putting the house on the market like NOW. Are there any realtors who would come over at 11PM and stick the sign on my front lawn? I'm hoping my husband will somehow find out that I'm selling the house even though he's in another state for a month. I hope he texts me and asks if I put the house on the market and my response will be 'I did.' 

More Outlets Anyone?

This weekend I had planned to go shopping at some outlets (yup, weekend #2 of that) because the kids were supposed to be with their dad. Since his car is still broken, he's only taking them for a few hours on Sunday though. No complaints from me, not having to share them would be my ideal world. I decided to make the three hour journey to the outlets anyway on Saturday. I have an important meeting at work and I needed a new outfit to bolster my confidence. 

As we got in the car and I explained to the kids that we were going to another state shopping, my daughter said, 'Why can't you just shop close to home like normal people?' I didn't think she'd understand divorce demons or needing to keep busy to stop from going crazy (crazier I should say) so I just laughed and said it would be an adventure. And it was. Hours of driving and hours of shopping and hours of fun until we went to one too many 'girl' stores and my son said that he wished he'd hadn't come and that he'd gone to his dad's house. I know he said it innocently but it still stung. So I vowed to make him enjoy the day too. One skateboard and a promise of a movie later and he was back on board. I never said I was above bribery. 

The movie seemed like a good idea until we got out of it at 9:30 and had over three hours of driving ahead of us. My eyes play crazy tricks at night and I see deer and moose darting in front of me. Are those glowing eyes on the side of the road? Better slow down. Nope, it's just a reflector. Wait, is that a raccoon crossing the road? No, it's just a piece of trash. Thank God we got home in just about the predicted GPS time. The heavy eyelids were starting to struggle. 

A few weeks ago, I emailed my husband to ask him to agree to a dollar amount for child support after the divorce is final. I said I needed to know how much I'll be getting to make a decision about the house. He said what I was asking for wasn't unreasonable but he needed to talk to his lawyer. It's three weeks later and there's crickets. Granted I haven't pushed the issue. I haven't had the emotional energy to think about it. But now my husband is leaving soon for four weeks. When he comes home, that puts us almost at the start of the new school year. I need some assurance that I'm going to have enough money to float this house for another school year. In trying to coordinate when I could drop the kids off to see my husband before he leaves, I asked him if he'd talked to his lawyer yet. He responded about the time I should drop the kids off but never answered about the lawyer. 

A small part of me is desperate to believe that my husband really wants the best for our kids and he's going to do what he's said all along - give me enough to keep our home. But the longer he drags out agreeing, the more my level of distrust rises. If I keep the kids in their school for another year and then end up losing our house, the person I am going to have the most anger at is myself. For being too cowardly to just put the damn house on the market and move. For trusting in my husband and what he says. Actions speak louder than words, haven't I learned that already? But some dumb part of me is hanging on to the fact that he's said over and over that the best thing for the kids is to remain here, in our home. 

Please God, just let him come through in this one way. Don't let me regret making the decision that I have. If I have to move the kids in the middle of the school year, I'm going to really hate him, even more than I already do and that is just unimaginable. 

Why I Love Today

'You're a vindictive bitch,' said my husband at one point. I'm sorry, but who can blame me? 

I got an email from him tonight which said that his car has a busted something or other and he had to take it to the garage. It might not be fixed this week so he only has his (midlife crisis) motorcycle. He might not be able to pick up the kids this weekend. (He's supposed to have them before he leaves town for a month.) 

When I saw his email, my first instinct was - how can I fix this? Should I lend him my car? Hahahaha. Just kidding, my first instinct was laughter. Bust a gut laughter. Poor guy, his car is broken down. How stressful and unfair. The injustice when our vehicles fail us. Heh heh heh. 

Even though the repair money is essentially coming out of my pocket too since we still have pooled finances, I can't help but snicker. I hope we have a torrential downpour for the next few days so I can envision him riding his motorcycle in his stupid Joe Rocket bright yellow jacket, zooming through mud puddles as the water splashes up around him, soaking him from head to toe. He'll pull up in front of his work looking like the drowned rat that he is. 

I love karma, and that's why I love today.

                           

Peace Corps & What If's

When I was in high school and college, my dream was to join the Peace Corps. I never fantasized about marrying and having kids, living a middle class lifestyle. I envisioned journeying to a far off country (and helping people but I guess that was secondary to the far off country). Then I met my husband. I still continued on the path of the Peace Corps though. I applied, was interviewed and accepted. My parents thought I was crazy but said they would watch my dog for me while I was gone. 

Then I got notified that I had to have a plan to pay my bills. I had student loans and credit card debt from buying years of textbooks. Damn, those are expensive. In this age of e-books, I wonder if college students still spend a thousand dollars on books every semester? The Peace Corps gives you a stipend but not much. Somehow the thought of figuring that money thing out lost its appeal next to the promising stable future that I could have with my husband. We moved in together and the rest is history. 

Where would I have ended up if I had stayed on the Peace Corps path? In Africa, a place I still dream about going? In Europe, Asia, South America? Would I have met someone in the Peace Corps and fallen in love and lived a completely different story? My children are my life, my greatest treasures, I don't regret the path that I chose but I do think 'what if'?

If there's one lesson I can teach my kids, it's that if you have a dream that stays in your mind and soul for year after year, don't let it fade away. Pursue that dream no matter how far fetched it is, then you'll never have to wonder 'what if'. Maybe after the kids are grown up, I'll resubmit my application to the Peace Corps. I'm hoping they take a few middle aged do-gooders along with the bright-eyed twenty years olds.

Ticket For One Please

Or How I Almost Kicked a Ticket Agent in the Balls

When you're getting a divorce, you're extra sensitive and sometimes you wonder if people can smell that you're a single woman. I went out to the movies with a friend last week. I walked up to the counter to purchase my ticket. I told the guy, 'One for The Heat at 7:15.' He looked around and said inquiringly, 'Just one?' I said yes and my voice may or may not have cracked as the large arrow above my head flashed 'Single divorcing woman'. 

I paid for my ticket and stepped aside as my friend bought her ticket. No question was asked of her. She's happily married. We walked away from the counter and I said, 'Did you hear what that guy asked me?!' She said, 'Yes, I heard and I thought ooooohh nooooo.' I'm glad that the awkwardness of the situation wasn't lost on her. We laughed (because that's better than crying) and we decided he was an asshole. 

I hope I get to the point soon when I will not feel the heat rise in my face when a ticket agent points out that I'm alone. 

Purses and Bears, Oh My

God, I'm tired. Tired of the continuous need that I have for affirmation that my husband is crap. The desire to have others say he sucks. I think if I heard it every hour of every day, it would never get old. This weekend the kids went to their father's for an overnight visit. The second time he's had them overnight. Throughout the whole day, my mind would wonder, 'What are the kids doing? Are they having fun? Do they miss me?' (Yes, I'm pathetic and insecure.) 

Fortunately my best friend and I planned a trip to some outlets three hours away. Strolling through stores takes your mind off things, especially when you are an indecisive shopper like me. We spent about two hours in the Coach store. Trying on every purse and putting each one through our array of tests. Is it comfy on your shoulder? Does it have an outer pocket for your phone? It's just like car shopping and we were kicking every tire. I ended up buying a purse, carried the shopping bag for a little bit and then decided I didn't like it. I returned it and bought another purse and my friend did too. Then we sat in the car and transferred all of our stuff into our glorious new bags. We tried them out for a bit and then realized that we didn't like them, so back we went to return them. I decided that I liked the first one that I bought after all so I purchased it again. 

I got home at about midnight from our shopping excursion and I had a ton of nervous energy. How were the kids? Were they sleeping? Did they have fun? I changed into my workout clothes (yes, I actually own some now, year-ago me is amazed) and put on my sneakers. I need to run from these demons that are chasing me, I thought, so out the door I went with a flashlight. Three steps later I realized something - fuck, it's wicked dark in the sticks where I live. Street lights? I think the closest one of those is 8 miles away. I can still do this, I thought, I have my flashlight. With every step I took, my feeling of 'gee, this was really dumb' grew. If a bear came out, I wouldn't know until he took his first bite of me. (Are bears nocturnal? I don't know but when you're in almost complete darkness EVERYTHING is likely to be nocturnal and is watching you.) 

The first car that drove towards me obviously saw my light. They gave me a wide berth. Okay, maybe this isn't so bad. The next vehicle, a large truck with freaking mirrors that stuck out two feet wide, came barreling towards me. I swayed my flashlight back and forth at the ground. They'll see me, the other car did. But they showed no sign of moving over. Did I mention that there are no shoulders on the road in addition to the nonexistent street lights? I stepped into the ditch and the truck blew by me. I thank my lucky stars that the monster side mirrors weren't any bigger because they probably would have decapitated me and that would have really put a damper on my night. I couldn't turn around fast enough and I ran all the way home, a bear nipping at my heels I'm sure. Not one of my brighter moments, I'll save my walks for daylight. 

The next morning I woke up and decided that I didn't really like the purse that I had bought (twice) after all. So I got in my car and drove two hours to a different outlet to return it. Thank God I didn't have to go back to the place where I bought it, they probably have my photo on the wall stating that I'm not allowed back in the store. 

When you're crazy, do you know that you're crazy? Or do think that you're sane? If you think you're crazy, does that mean you're actually sane because you're considering the fact that you might be crazy? I can only imagine what next weekend will bring. My husband has the kids for one more overnight visit before he leaves town for a month. Let's hope I won't be repeating the great American purse return or taking another dark midnight stroll with Mr Bear.

And Then $$ Appeared

Okay my crazies are kicking in again. No, not the 'I want to emasculate my husband and make a chew toy for my dog' crazies. Although that does sound like fun. These crazies are about money. One of my friends had the brilliant idea that I should rent my house this summer. We'll be spending most of the summer break at my parents' so our house is just sitting there, empty, sucking up money. Why not make it work for us? 

When she told me her idea, I bet she saw $$$ sprouting up in my eyes. Ah, the money I will make once I place the ad. People will be vying to stay in my house. It's so purty and homey, who wouldn't want to make this their vacation destination? Well, the ad ran on our local town list serv and Goddamn it, no one's flocking to me yet. I wrote an engaging ad offering all the comforts of home for out of town guests. Does no one in this town need housing for their obnoxious visiting uncle and their 42 year old cousin who still lives at home? The nearest hotel is about 20 minutes away. Rent my house and you can have your family close but 'not under the same roof' close. 

If the summer rental doesn't work out, I have hope. I'll place another ad during ski season. We live near three different ski areas. Maybe some rich doctor will want to skip staying at the luxury resort and will want to rent a family home for him and his trophy wife and their 2.5 children. I'll even take their pocket size poodle Trixie. Just rent my damn house and let me get a nest egg in the bank. 

Happy Independence Day!

Happy Fourth of July! Today is a perfect day to remember what an amazing country we live in and how lucky we are that our forefathers fought for freedom. Thank you Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams et al. 

File this under TMI (too much information). This day also provides a perfect opportunity to collect your urine. I decided this morning to start the 24 hour urine collection that my doctor ordered for the ongoing saga of the kidney stone. What better way to celebrate a holiday than peeing into a huge jug. Guess I'll stay close to home and spare non-family members from the Ewww factor of seeing me carting around a large container of my own liquid waste. 

Once I collect the urine, I will send a sample off to a lab in California for analysis. The test is to try to figure out what caused the kidney stone and how I can prevent another one from developing. I'm pretty sure I already know what the diagnosis will be - this kidney stone was due to divorce. Future preventative action - do not go through any more divorces. 

My husband is still showing what a pee pee head he is. My town had significant flooding from major storms over the last few days. Did Army Boy inquire if we were overcome with water? If we had to build an ark to get out? Negative. My heart warms with the strength of his love for his own children. Someone should really write a poem or haiku about it.* 

*We actually are still staying at my parents' and have only gone home for short periods but still, he doesn't know that. Unless he's actually spoken to his mother and she reported that we were fine. The likelihood of him calling her is about the same as the likelihood of me enjoying peeing in a jug. 

Ockham’s Razor

I received some marketing email today that referenced Ockham’s Razor. Maybe you're not familiar with that name but I'm sure you've heard of the principle behind it - 'The simplest explanation is usually the correct one'. I think this email was sent specifically to me by the internet Gods.

Last night I was talking with an old friend, catching her up on the divorce saga. We briefly talked about why the hell would my husband do what he did? PTSD, depression, he's lost his frigging mind.... Our final theory was that he's an asshole. I'm thinking that would be the answer to the question according to Ockham’s Razor. The simplest explanation is that he's an asshole. Stop looking for anything beyond that.

Thanks Ockham, you're a smart guy. If you haven't been dead for seven centuries, I'd give you my phone number.

http://www.aoi.com.au/bcw/Placid/

Back To The Real World

My sister and niece flew home to Atlanta today. Vacation is o-v-e-r and work beckons. The respite from my divorce story has ended. Back to worrying and wondering and dreading what the future will bring. A return to endlessly spinning around in my mind the question of what to do about our home.  

I went to an open house in my parents' town this weekend. A split level house, not my favorite style. In fact, I've always said I'd never live in one but divorce changes your perspective. I questioned whether or not I should bring the kids to look at the house. Would it be too much for them to handle? Then I decided that this is their life too so I asked them if they wanted to go and they yelled 'yes!'

The kids liked the house and seemed excited about it. Then my son said he would only move if he could be homeschooled because he does not want to go to a new school. <sigh> It's funny how I was more worried about my emotional daughter coping with the idea of a move and instead it's my son who is having a harder time. I know lots of kids move but this is just so damn stressful. A few weeks ago I had myself convinced that we should just stay in our home. Now I'm thinking that we should try to sell and see if we get any offers. Then, based on what that brings, I can explore my options. 

Ugh, I need another vacation. I'm tired of once again living in the real world. Please bring back the vacation-hazed faux reality, I really enjoyed that. The thought of listing our house, worrying about getting an offer, finding a new house, telling my kids they will be changing schools, packing up and moving and then settling into a new community seems like enough to break a person. Or if not break you, seriously fuck you up for a while. I hope I'm clear headed enough to make a decision about all of this. I'm almost tempted to say fuck everything and follow my sister to Atlanta. Houses are cheaper there and it's miles away from the painful memories in this state. Kids, are you up for an adventure? Let's get a u-Haul and move cross country. Because finding a job in this economy will be a breeze, I'm sure. <said in my most sarcastic voice> 

FML. I saw that acronym online a while ago. I had to google it, never heard of it before. Now it's my motto for my life.