Holiday Greetings..or...Pain Courtesy of Your Mailman

I love the holidays. What I don't love - receiving Christmas cards in the mail addressed to my ex husband and myself. Apparently word of the demise of our marriage hasn't spread as far and as wide as I thought. I guess it only feels like everyone knows your business and is pointing and judging. I'm not the center of the universe after all. Shocking. 

Many of the cards have joyous newsletters about the wonderful year that particular family had in 2013. 'We moved back to our hometown and were greeted with open arms. Little Becca is doing great and is exceling at everything she tries. Bob is a wonderful husband and Gloria's cookies won the grand prize at the county fair this year. Top Chef is going to be knocking at our door before too long but Gloria is much too busy leading the PTA/volunteering at the church/singing in the choir/winning the Nobel Peace prize to consider it.'

I'm thinking about sending out a New Year's card with a newsletter of my own. Hmm. That would be fun. '2013 was an extra special year. I'm one husband short of a full deck now so please leave off the 'Mr' part in future correspondence. And don't include any happy family photos because I will likely use them for toilet paper. So good to hear from you, have a great New Year's.'

Merry Effing Christmas

I can't imagine not spending Christmas with my kids. Not seeing the excited anticipation in their eyes when they yell, 'It's Christmas, can we go downstairs now?' Not hearing them exclaim over each item they pull out of their stocking or each gift they tear into and shout, 'It's just what I wanted!' I didn't sign up for any of that and thankfully didn't have that as my reality, yet I still have to deal with an empty spot in my heart sometimes.

Here I sit alone in a house looking at the toys scattered around from the festivities of yesterday. No echoes of excitement as the kids play with the treasures that Santa gave them. No child pleading, 'Mom, will you help me put this together?' The silence is deafening. 

The kids are with their dad for two days. Two days, just two days. Somehow this time of year makes it feel like longer. And the happy intact family across the street mocks me as they play outside, laughing and throwing snow at each other as I watch them with a sneer. 'Tis the season to choke on your bitterness. Merry Effing Christmas. 

Where's My Playbook?

'What are you getting Daddy for Christmas, Mommy?' my son asked at breakfast. Sweetie, we are divorced and when you're divorced you don't buy presents for each other was my response. Slightly awkward but he didn't pursue it thankfully. 

The other night my son was on the phone with his father and he was telling him that we were going to see The Hobbit the next day. My son held the phone away from his face and said, 'Mommy, can I ask Daddy to go with us?' I must have winced because my son said, 'You don't want him to go with us DO YOU?!' I didn't know exactly what to do so I said he could invite him if he wanted and he did. Immediately after my son hung up the phone, I got a text from his father. (I'm training myself not to call him Army Boy anymore. I'm done with that level of immaturity.) 'Do you want me to go to the movies with you?' I'll give their dad some credit. He must have heard my son's exclamation and was checking to see what I thought. Yes, you can go, I said, it would make our son happy. 

I had a few doubts when I thought how weird it sounded to be going to the movies together. Freshly divorced and on a family outing? Hmmm.That's just a little bizarre maybe but whatever. I never said I was normal.  

During one particularly scary scene in The Hobbit (that dragon is FREAKY), I felt my son's hand creep into mine and I raised it up to give it a kiss. I looked over and saw my son's other hand clasped tightly in his father's hand. And a thought popped into my head - all is right at this moment in my son's world. He's got his mom and his dad sitting on either side of him and he's enjoying the movie that he's been begging to see. Any discomfort that I might have felt withered away. Divorce doesn't come with a playbook and each family and situation is different. I do what I feel is best for my kids. Period. End of story. 

Merry Christmas and Happy Divorce

My divorce is final. I got some official looking documents in the mail. It's sort of anti climatic at this point. All that pain and angst and then boom, you get something delivered by the friendly mailman and you can start checking the 'Divorced' box on forms. Great, good times. I love being labeled. Now I can add divorcee to my list.

All those guys that were waiting in the wings until I became a free woman, feel free to call me now. I have about three hours of spare time a month. I'm sure that will be plenty to start off a new relationship.

December is zooming by. Hosting forty people at a cookie swap in my home, holiday concerts for the kids, Christmas plays, all the good tidings that the season brings. I love this time of year and I'm not going to let a divorce dump me into a funk. My kids are doing well, they're wonderful and a delight, and I've got my health after a scare. I found a lump in my armpit and convinced myself for a weekend that I had breast cancer. Nope, my doctor said, false alarm, I'll live to see another year thankfully.

Divorce is rough but mostly I can think 'Eh, whatever, I'll get over it.' I still believe it sucks royally for the kids but they could be going through worst things so I'm going to be counting my blessings this holiday season. I'm going to deck the halls and eat, drink and be merry. If an errant thought about a cheating husband comes into my mind, I'm going to force it away and put another bow on the ol' Christmas tree and turn up the Christmas tunes and sing with the kids.

Hiatus

Contrary to popular belief I'm still alive and perhaps even more surprising, I'm not even in prison. Yay me! Army Boy and I had a huge falling out, he knows about the blog, he fucking hates me, I'm two faced and oh, I think he's having problems with his girlfriend. <tear> So sorry, I hope that works out for you, I said in my most insincere voice. I really thought your fairy tale romance was going to last and if the two of you don't make it, how can I ever believe in love again?  Honestly telling your betrayed soon to be ex wife that things aren't going according to your plan? Probably not the best idea, you won't be getting sympathy here. 

Anyways, Army Boy and I have decided to give our marriage another try. We discovered we still care for each other and want to try to put aside all the hurt and bitterness and move ahead together to face our future. Of course I had to admit that everything was my fault and since I'm sure that is the case, I had no problem taking complete culpability. 

Okay, after you've picked yourself up off the floor from laughing or have screamed at your computer and said OMG WTF!!!, I hope you know that's a load of crap, just like my marriage for the last few years. Army Boy and I have been trying to work out a settlement.* I had to shut the blog down for a while. He screamed at me that I could leave it up but I'm pretty sure that wasn't how he truly felt. I'm getting better at knowing when he's lying. He did mention he wanted a chance to tell his own side of the story so maybe I'll have a link to Army Boy's blog in a future post. Coming up with a name for that would be super fun, we should have a contest. 

* I believe we have a settlement and divorce papers should be arriving to a mailbox near me soon. I guess I'm supposed to be happy, the terms are pretty much everything that I wanted. Well, originally I had wanted a husband who was faithful and not a douchebag but I've learned you can't have everything in life so you gotta take what you can get and create your own happiness. 

Army Boy probably won't be thrilled that I turned my blog back on. But my response to that is, you still have your whore, I still have my blog. I'm told that the whore might read the blog occasionally. <Hi Whore! I have something special on my Christmas list for a homewrecking piece of crap.> I find it hysterical to imagine her reading some of these posts and thinking what a horrible soon-to-be-ex wife I am, no wonder Army Boy cheated on me. You can rationalize anything in your own mind if you're delusional enough. I have fantasized about texting her once the divorce is final and congratulating her on the 'prize' she's won but why bother? I'm not going to waste any more time thinking about the likes of her (other than laughing maybe). I'm really starting to believe that I'm going to be the winner in all of this. Like Kellie Pickler's song says, 'But I've been told that a cheater is always a cheater, So I've got my pride and she's got you.' 

I'm going to do my best to transition from a betrayed spouse to just an ex-spouse. Yup, I'll be divorced which is never what I wanted but you know what, I've got my kids, my family, my health, a slimmer body, my dog, a career and I'm going to be counting my blessings.... I might slip into the bitter is better role periodically but I'm Moving On is going to be my mantra now.