Love fights the good fight, and speaks its truth as best it can, and trusts that things will work out the way they're supposed to. Love prays a lot. Love tries to figure out What's Best in a situation where nothing feels optimal, where everything feels potentially catastrophic, where animosity and differences of opinions and realities seem neverending. Love is staggered by what seems like a ridiculous solution where everyone loses---where a judge plays King Solomon (love's worst fear) and rather than accepting either truth, chops up the innocents and waits for the other players to relent....
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...
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...
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! So the main thing, today, is that my ex came over without complaint and easily did twice as much work as I did, getting the basement cleaned out. For one thing, he's bigger and stronger. For another thing, I'm a whiner and a slacker. "I'm tiiiiired," I would say, just...
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...
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...
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.
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...
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...
