So, in light of all of my recent angst and the ever-mounting signs from the universe that I should finally get my divorce proceedings started, I am making an appointment with a mediator for next week!!!
It’s been over four years since my husband dropped the bomb and after countless, sometimes humorous, more often pathetic, attempts to salvage my marriage, I am finally ready.
I’m terrified. But the lure of autonomy and being “actually divorced” instead of perpetually “about to be divorced” is too strong to resist.
This is going to get interesting.
Will I end up living in my parents’ house? Will I move to a new city? Will work opportunities magically appear because I’m finally on the right track? Will my ex use our kids as emotional pawns? Will it get worse before it gets better?
I have no idea. But I’m going to hang on tight and plow ahead. And I’m going to continue to share my journey here so that I can have an outlet and work through it and especially so that you or whomever can get a good laugh or cry out of it. And maybe someone will read and relate and chime in.
I’m happy to report that my weekend from hell paid off. It was a small victory. My son learned a little about his powers of self-restraint, boundaries and the importance of staying connected in real life and not just electronically. I can’t say he has transformed. No, he had a tantrum last night and woke up a grumpy 10 year old this morning. But, hey, I wasn’t planning on a miracle, I just wanted to imprint on him that I am not a spineless, waffling, sap who will cave in every time. Continue reading →
You want to make your life exceedingly challenging? Do what I just did. Ban your child from accessing electronics for an entire weekend. Oh yeah, this was necessary. The original offense was playing on his ipad behind my back before his designated time. His original punishment was just “no more electronics for the day,” but the subsequent tantrum (including expletives, door slamming and extreme face contorting) led to a prolonged moratorium.
We parents have to watch what we say when we are punishing our kids. I had plenty of moments of regret over the past few days, starting with 5:30 a.m. yesterday when my son woke me up (my one morning to sleep in) and proceeded to vacillate between whining, stomping and protesting and cuddling, crying and professing contrition. I finally gave up on any hope of going back to sleep when he began pacing back and forth at the foot of my bed and chanting, “I’m on strike, I’m on strike…”
We’ve all had our hearts broken, haven’t we? Where our chests throb with pain and the agony of withdrawal renders us useless, doomed to a life (though thankfully temporary) of holing up in our beds, eating ice cream (or in the worst cases, not eating at all). Continue reading →
In a comment made on my post Children Need Their Fathers…Duh!, D.A. Wolf of Daily Plate Of Crazy mentioned our “happiness’ culture.” This got me thinking about the quagmire that anyone in the midst of trauma finds ourselves in. We all know the platitudes. We know that everything works out in the end and that a good attitude is key, but we also can’t repress and deny the genuine pain and dis-ease we experience when faced with huge life changes that include upheaval and loss.
Probably the primary triggers of my acute phases of depression have been my realizing that I have failed to stay positive and graceful, I have failed to provide a utopian environment for my children, I have failed to “manifest” all that I desire for my children. This sense of failure is an abusive vacuum that in an instant sucks all hope and innovation out of me. I have learned to recognize when it’s happening and immediately shift my focus. Still most days I ward off feelings of inadequacy not just for failing to create the stable life for my children that I had envisioned but also for failing to buck up cheerfully and be a TEDxTalk sensation by now. Continue reading →
I’ll admit, when my kids’ dad said he was leaving me and hitting the road, my first impulse was to hoard my children, shield them from their dad’s apparent mid-life crisis, and start a new life without him. I shoved that feeling down and never acted out or impeded his ability to see them. It just so happens he literally left the country for new career opportunities and adopted a nomadic lifestyle. It wasn’t long after his departure that I was on the phone begging him to please come home and help manage the emotional fall out that our separation was having on our kids. Continue reading →
My neighbor/friend/comrade in overwhelmed parenthood-ness, likes to say, as the sun sets on our block, “it’s wine o’clock.” This is broadcast to me via a yell from down the street, a text message or a whisper accompanied by the removal of wine from her fridge and distribution into our glasses. For her, an appropriate wine glass. For me, a shot glass (or as she calls it, “a thimble”). I feel like a midget drinking from my tiny wares. But my petite frame renders me an undignified lightweight. Even though I only partake once in a while, those nights are a little mellower, a little funnier, a little closer to manageable. With a little imbibing our veils come off, I learn more about her wilder, thinner, more exciting days and she learns more about mine. It’s a bonding thing. So, why not drink more or at least more often? Continue reading →