April 9, 2008 | At least he pays child support, Offspring: ecstasy and agony

There are many things I would like to teach my children as they grow. I think that everyone should know how to swim. I think that everyone should know how to find worms and how to bait them on a hook, even if they think it’s gross and only do it once. I think that everyone should know how to cook a basic meal where all four food groups are represented. I think everyone should know how to be truthful and, when the truth would be hurtful to another, how to soften it if necessary.

I think everyone needs to know that life is rarely fair.

I would like it very much if my children could learn that last one without feeling like there is a constant push-pull going on between their father and myself, but guess what! Life isn’t fair, and in this way it is particularly unfair for them. Nothing is fair in divorce. (more…)

December 4, 2006 | At least he pays child support, My name is Grumplestiltskin, The Year of Living Changerously

I wasn’t going to talk about it, because I don’t want to talk about it. I want to take the high road. I want to believe things will work out quickly.

Here on the high road, I am having migraines every couple of days. I have some good meds for the migraines, stuff that’s so expensive that my insurance will only let me have six pills each month, which I think is pretty ridiculous for non-narcotic medicine that doesn’t even do me the courtesy of making me high. Hmph.

And I’m working, and taking care of the kids, and doing the things I need to do. And I’m happy, most of the time. But my head feels like it’s going to explode. (more…)

May 27, 2006 | At least he pays child support

Funny, it doesn’t actually LOOK like all that much, to me, once I view it in a little picture. It doesn’t LOOK like hours and hours of hauling and dragging and sorting and boxes that fell apart halfway up the stairs.

And as much fun as we had TODAY, we get to do (just about) all of it AGAIN when the dumpster gets here! Yay!
(more…)

July 11, 2005 | At least he pays child support

Loyal readers may have noticed I haven’t blogged about my ex in quite a while. Did you happen to wonder why that is?

Maybe he’s been so horrible, it was too embarrassing to even consider writing about his antics.

Maybe he’s just sort of faded back into the background; not troublesome, but barely even present. Forgettable.

Maybe I’ve finally matured to the point where WHATEVER he does just doesn’t matter to me.

Nope, nope, and I haven’t even matured to the point where I can keep a straight face while my children sing about boogers, so, um, NO.

The reason is that I haven’t been able to wrap my brain around recent events. But I’m gonna try. (If it doesn’t work, I’ll teach you the booger song.)
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February 18, 2005 | At least he pays child support

When my ex and I were married, we never fought about money. I think that’s unusual; most couples fight about money, yes? We never did.

I’m very frugal. I shopped often but didn’t spend much. He grew up poor and really enjoyed being able to “indulge;” he shopped infrequently but tended to get the things he wanted when he wanted them. We had enough money for everything and it wasn’t an issue.

Cue the divorce. For a solid year–while the legalities were pieced together in painful detail–we fought about money constantly. Actually, we paid enormous sums of money for our lawyers to fight about it. What a grand system we have here.
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January 14, 2005 | At least he pays child support, Detritus

Yeah. Um.

First: For those of you who read the previous post and didn’t get it, it’s sort of a joke. See? Funny? Haha? Well, I thought it was funny….

Second: Just for Sheryl (and possibly Ben, but that makes me feel dirty), I present my newest infatuation.

At least he pays child support

Every now and then I feel a pang of remorse. No, really. I mean, I’m sure it’s a huge shock to you, dear readers, to hear that I sometimes experience regret, what with my entire credo being all about living in the moment and thowing caution to the wind and danger be damned and–

Oh. Sorry. I was channeling Angelina Jolie, there, for a minute. I think it might be my new leather boots. Sorry ’bout that.

Anyway. As I was saying. These pangs hit me at the oddest times, on occasion. Today I found myself regretting what was arguably the biggest decision of my adult life.

I can’t believe I felt this–much less that I’m admitting it–but today, I found myself smack-dab in the middle of some serious doubt about having divorced my husband.
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January 4, 2005 | At least he pays child support, Health is overrated

But, uh, not in the good way. I’m running a fever. Which is fabulous timing, because it’s not like I have anything I needed to be doing today, or anything….

My ex called on Sunday night to warn me that he had a fever. The call was ostensibly to alert me to the children possibly having been exposed, but I suspect they got him sick, rather than the other way around. I also suspect he was looking for some sympathy. “Get some rest!” I cheerfully suggested. He stayed home from work yesterday, and still had a fever when he called to talk to the kids.

By that time–right before dinner–I was starting to feel a little punky. When he told me he didn’t know if he’d take them for dinner tonight or not, let’s talk in the morning, I said fine.

Him: You okay?
Me: I dunno. I feel a little weird.
Him: Oh, I hope you’re not getting sick!
(more…)

October 19, 2004 | At least he pays child support, My name is Grumplestiltskin

I’m having a day of retreat, reflection and general penance.

I’m sorry that it’s raining today. Monkey is on his first ever school field trip and I’m hoping the excitement of riding the big bus will outweigh the fact that he’s likely to come home with pneumonia.

I’m sorry that after an extended breakfast-time detailing of today’s plans my daughter still felt it necessary to insist to school officials that I was picking her up today, necessitating a phone call home to verify that no, she is to take the bus. Mostly I’m sorry that I have so little grip on how to communicate with that child.

I’m sorry that I inadvertently hurt someone’s feelings on a discussion board this week when I neglected to choose my words carefully. I’m not sorry that I tried to fix it, but I’m sorry that the person in question has decided there is nothing I can say that changes the fact that the world has somehow now been shaken to its core. I feel bad, but I’m just walking away and hoping it becomes clear that no one (especially me) is that important.

I’m sorry that I’ve not been able to respond with greater enthusiasm to those who are checking up on me. It’s ungracious and ungrateful and I am not fit to lick the shoes of those who love me, so I’ll just be happy that I’m kinda like nicotine… gross and horrible for you, yet addictive.

I’m sorry that I’ve been crawling into bed early and missing my nightly chats with Kira, because she is just so darned cute. Damn you, Mountain Time Zone!

I’m sorry that my ex felt the need to tell my children to keep something stupid from me, not sorry that they told me anyway, and oh-so-sorry that I tried to discuss it with him. No secrets. Secrets bad. Don’t do it. His response? “I didn’t know it would upset you.” Look! It’s the POINT, sailing right past you! Grab it, quick!! That entire discussion made me more melancholy than I’ve been in ages, for reasons too complicated to articulate. I am not surprised, no. But it still makes me sad.

I’m sorry that 1) someone felt the need to do this search, 2) my site was a match, 3) my site was on the last page of search results, and 4) that person followed the link hoping to find this very important piece of information. Sorry, dude. Also? Seek help.

October 8, 2004 | At least he pays child support

True to his word, my ex delivered the goods this evening. We were all quite amused; and for a moment–as the kids and I giggled and flipped through the dozen or so poses he’d put the puppy through on the copier–I had a sudden glimpse of the man he used to be, and the family we once were.

Then I realized my wistful moment was a byproduct of stuffed animal porn. That helped to put the nostalgia in perspective.