Oh no, here she goes...

I have so much to be thankful for. I happened upon a statistic today that was quite disturbing. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the July 2008 unemployment rate in the state of Michigan was 8.5%. That's 51st out of 51. The unemployment rate for Texas was 4.7%, which, shockingly, ranks 20th. I would've thought it would be much closer to the top. South Dakota has the top spot with a rate of 3.0%.

I also found a chart with historical highs and lows for each state. For the historically highest unemployment rate, Michigan once again takes the prize, with the shocking number of 16.9% back in November 1982. WOW. I'm glad I wasn't around here then. I've heard stories that there used to be a sign on the interstate heading out of Flint that said something like, "Would the last one out please turn out the lights."

I've also been keeping up with the rather contrary state of existence in my much-beloved and much-missed hometown of Midland, TX. According to the July 2008 Unemployment Rates for Metropolitan Areas, Midland ranks 11th in the nation with a rate of 3.1%, and Odessa is 20th with 3.7%. Ann Arbor, in comparison, is 272nd in the nation at 6.9%, which is higher than the national average of 6.1%.

Oh, how thankful I am for my job! Because of my own little microcosm of turmoil and upheaval, I was forced right out into the biggest economic turmoil and upheaval in the nation, with no degree and no recent job experience to speak of. But God took care of me. My job certainly isn't glamorous, and I certainly don't get paid very much, but it's still a good deal more than min. wage. My house isn't in foreclosure. My babies' bellies are nice and full as they sleep in their warm little cozy beds. My debt, while more than I care for it to be, is not beyond hope, and is not substantially growing. My budget to keep my tank full of gas is nominal (relatively speaking), since I have all of a four-mile round-trip commute.

God takes care of us everyday.

Watching the news these last couple of days has definitely started the wheels turning in my head. These giant financial brokers on the brink of disaster is quite....umm....interesting. As is the decision of the fed to bail them out. Gah. How did this happen?

Before I delve into that, I'm going to tell you a story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time, a long, long, long, long...OK, it was March of 1973...a little baby girl was born. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and the apple of her parents' eyes. She had no idea of the prosperity that blessed the region into which she was born known as the Permian Basin. Oil was spewing out the bland, dry, mesquite-covered land like fountains on the Las Vegas strip . And money was spewing out of banks and savings & loans. Her father was right in the middle. Life was good. Great. The bubble was growing.

And then one day, the bubble popped. The little girl was now about 10 or so. The fountains ran dry. Once-sparkly, busy, prosperous office buildings that defined the city's skyline, were left to the elements. Even the legendary cornerstone of the local economy, The First National Bank of Midland, went belly-up. Her parents worked really hard to shelter her from any hardship that might be coming her way, but she still knew enough to understand that things were going to change when she overheard her father utter the word "bankruptcy" to her mother. Her father made a change in direction for his career, and as she entered into teenage-dom, she wasn't able to have all the cool designer fashions as the other kids at school...Guess? and Z Cavaricci jeans, five Swatches each complete with SwatchGuards on her arm. She didn't get a car for her 16th birthday and was forced to share her mother's hopelessly un-cool 1978 Oldsmobile which was so monstrous, it barely fit in the garage. She didn't know it at the time, but her mother's plans for her be a Symphony Debutante were nixed.

While nothing was being handed to her on a silver platter, she was a happy girl. She was actively involved in her high school's marching band, experiencing thrilling things such as traveling to our nation's capital to march for our new President. She got to spend three years at The Greatest University in the nation, The University of Texas, until once again, these financial pressures brought it to an end.

Today, she is a well-rounded, responsible woman with children of her own, who has been blessed with a unique and useful perspective of feast vs. famine. She has gained much wisdom through these experiences. She has learned how not to live beyond her means. She has learned how to find happiness in other places than Stuff. And she is so thankful that while she is in the midst of another terrible and destructive economic recession, she has enough for the time being. And she is at peace.

The End.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back to the collapse of the country's financial giants: Just how did it happen?

My theory: Sub-prime mortgages and other frivolous lending tactics. This country is driven to have Stuff, whether or not we can afford it. And when things are going good, the banks and financial brokers will dole out money to people, who at the time don't have any adequate means to pay it back. They all just assume things will keep heading in the same direction, and it'll just fall in their laps. Then when that doesn't happen...

How in the world did this society get to a place where it became totally acceptable to borrow so much dang money? What ever happened to cash on the barrelhead? Yes, I have a mortgage. And no, I would not have this beautiful house without being able to borrow the money to purchase it. At the time I purchased this house with the IX, I was fully planning on living in it with him, and not having to pay for it on my own. It's not a big fancy über-luxurious place. My neighbors are almost right on top of me. It's covered in...ack...siding. And it pretty much looks just like every other house in the neighborhood. We probably could've been approved for one of the sub-prime mortgages for a much grander dwelling, but we didn't even go down that road. We got a standard, 30-year fixed mortgage. We purchased what at the time, we could afford. And now it just so happens that I find myself facing a lot of hard work to keep it that way.

Anyway...we are a nation of borrowers. We don't like the concept of delayed gratification. And look at where it has gotten us. AGAIN.

I want a deck on the back of my house sooooo bad. But I'm not going to borrow to get it. I haven't bought a stitch of new clothing since I started going on job interviews. (And boy, do I need some new clothes. I dropped four sizes during my divorce and just about everything in my closet would either fall right off of me or swallow me up.) My boys don't have tons of clothes, and what they do have, are hand-me-downs, came from a resale shop, Target, or Meijer. I can't remember the last time I set foot in the mall.

I have no intention of becoming one of the casualties, and I'm thankful that my life experiences have led me to understand a little bit about how it happens. I'm not afraid to buckle down and do what it takes to maintain my 'meager' (by some standards) way of life, all the while thinking I could just about be the richest woman on the planet. Oh, I've got big plans for the future, don't get me wrong. And no, I don't know exactly how I'm going to bring them to fruition.

But let me put it this way...I know how I'm not going to do it.

My heart overflows

Exactly 52 weeks ago today, I had my husband of nine and a half years served with divorce papers.

Thanksgiving 2006 was the first one not spent with him in attendance in ten years, maybe a couple more than that. And it was actually a really nice day. SH was gracious enough to invite the boys and me to her family's festivities at her mom's house for the day. And her mom and dad were indeed just as gracious, if not more so, for welcoming us into their home and including us as family for the day. And really, I have only nice, happy memories of the day, despite the overhanging heartbreak of what I knew had gone on just the day before.

I remember pondering what my life would look like a year from then. And it's hard for me to believe I've arrived at that time! While the envisioned particulars don't match the real ones, I think emotionally and spiritually I'm where I hoped I'd be. I still have my occasional rough days (or weeks), but for the most part, I'm happy, my boys are happy, the emotional paralysis has lifted, and my life, while still somewhat uncertain and far from perfect, is fun.

I'm proud that I've managed to leave that old stifling and limiting comfort zone behind.

I'm proud of all that I've learned in the past year. In so many different subjects.

I'm proud of finding the courage and daringness (and yes, that's a real word...I looked it up) to be proactive in bringing new people into my life, and getting myself back out there into the busy, functional, exciting, rewarding world that had been stolen from me much longer ago than I realized.

I'm proud that my vision has been un-blinded to my potential. And what I really deserve.

I'm free to be me.

Thanks be to God!

...for His unwavering strength. That He so willingly shares.
...for His neverending comfort.
...for His unshakeable, unbreakable, perfect love.
...for His always adequate provision.

Tomorrow, the RK, the IB and I will not be going anywhere. Thanksgiving 2007 is going to be spent here in this house, just the three of us. And while this would normally be very disturbing and depressing to me (and it got the better of me for a while a few days back), I've decided to do what I have to do to make this a special day for this family. I'm cooking the whole shebang. I started preparing dishes last night, and have continued throughout the day today.

My mom's dressing, which is my absolute favorite part of the feast, and it just wouldn't be Thanksgiving without it? Check.

The lime jello/pineapple/cream cheese/chopped pecans dish which my brother dubbed "Green Gunk" before I was even born? Check.

Pecan pie? Check.

The sweet potatoes are baked, and will soon be peeled and mashed into a massive quantity and variety of sugar that somehow can be called a 'casserole.'

And this year, I am once again stepping out of a comfort zone.

Every year of my adult life thus far, I have managed to get myself out of preparing a turkey. But this year, if we're gonna have turkey, it's up to me! And I was pleasantly surprised to find a cute little 9lb. turkey at the grocery store on Sunday! So I've been studying my Betty Cr0cker and Better H0mes and Gardens cookbooks, and I'm jumping in to the world of body cavities, giblets, and all that other turkey stuff.

I had another job interview this afternoon. It was for a 'customer service representative' job with a company I had emailed my resume to sometime last week. Yesterday, I received a call to come in and interview. We scheduled the meeting for 1:00 today, and when she told me where this place was located, I just laughed. I can't remember if I mentioned before how that previous job I interviewed for was only a mile and a half from my house. Well, this company is once again just down the road! So I got a neighbor to watch the boys for a while this afternoon, and went. I was surprised to find three other women already in there filling out the same paperwork I was handed as I entered. As the process went on, I learned that they're interviewing an entire mob for this one position! Oh great. We were told that by sometime next week we'd hear back if they wanted to call us back in for a second interview. She also mentioned they'd be calling only four of us back.

We had the chance to speak with the interviewer on a one-on-one basis, and then with her supervisor after that. And I could tell they both really liked me, and while nothing's a sure thing, I walked out of there feeling pretty encouraged that I could be expecting a phone call next week. And I drove home with the anxiety already starting to well in me, and realized this was going to be there throughout the long holiday weekend.

But the anxiety was quickly squashed around 7:15 this evening, when my phone rang. It was the interviewer, on her cell phone, as she was walking out of the building to her car. She was calling because she was leaving on a business trip in the middle of next week, and...

...wait for it...

...she wanted to go ahead and schedule my second interview!!!!!!!!!!!

YES! YES! YES!

So 11:00 Monday morning, I'll be heading back in!

What an amazing joy this is. Just to know that this girl is appealing as a potential employee. And to have the encouraging thought that maybe my days of total financial dependence are coming to an end. How great it is that I don't have to have that pit of anxiety nagging at me during my holiday.

Tomorrow could easily pass by as just another day on the calendar in this household. But it won't.

Tomorrow, my boys and I are going to Give Thanks.

Reality TV hits close to home

Are any of you watching this new season of Dancing with the Stars? So far, I'm really enjoying it, but there is a part of the show this season that just rips my heart out, and really makes it quite difficult for me to watch. Let me explain...

I've talked before, quite a while ago I see now, about the IX's job. (New, or need a refresher? Click here.) For those of you who are watching DWTS, you know that Helio Castroneves is one of the competitors. And this man, although I personally have never met him, holds a very special place in my heart.

The show is touting him as a "two-time Indy 500 winner." And I can tell you right off the bat that it was in 2001 & 2002.

And my ex-husband built the engines that were in his car both years.

We weren't at these races, but we were gathered with his co-workers watching them on a big screen TV in a local restaurant's banquet room. And what celebrations they were! I remember the champagne hangovers I had the following days...oy.

Looking back on it now, both of those wins were major chapters in my life with the IX. They will always be right up at the top of my most prominent memories with that man.

The IX even got his picture on the front page of the community paper where his employer is located, and the company got a huge write-up as well. Helio even came to the shop not too long after both of his big wins, and the IX was able to meet him and get him to sign a copy of the article (whichever year it was...I can't recall if it was the first win or the second). I think it's still tucked away somewhere here at the house.

Oh, I was so proud & supportive of the IX. And it really never meant that much to him, I've discovered.

So anyway, it's turning out that Helio is definitely the one to beat on DWTS this season. Argh. As soon as I heard he was one of the competitors, I've been hoping he'd be awful and get voted off nice and early. No such luck! Hopefully I'll get used to it as the weeks go on, because it's quite evident he ain't going nowhere.

But oh my gosh, his mambo last night! I was almost jumping off the couch, it was so good!

Dammit.

Movin' on...

Whew, I just now got the kitchen cleaned up from dinner...finally. I get so sick of cleaning that dadgum kitchen. That was one thing great about having the IH around...he went along with the rule that whoever didn't cook, cleans. Now I get to do both. And thus far, only a couple of times has it waited until the next morning.

I'm sitting here right now at my dining table, iPod blaring some Alice in Chains, and an ice cold beer by the computer. This has been a momentous day.

I signed the papers today.

And funny....as I drove away from my attorney's office, I felt like I didn't expect to. Hopeful. Encouraged. Free.

Now I just need to work on the feelings of bitterness and hatred I have in my heart. At this point, I still desperately crave for all the IH's actions to come crashing down around him, so he is finally forced to acknowledge what a f'ed-up view he has on life. And don't even get me started on her.

This man has gone hog-wild spending money to the point it makes me wonder if he has some sort of undisclosed source of income. I mentioned in passing a few posts back that he had bought a new car. A brand new 2007 Nissan Pathfinder. This is his third new car in as many years. But this particular type of vehicle he needs now. After all, he now has as many as four kids to haul around. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a Sirius satellite radio box under the front passenger seat. And this last time, he had a bike rack installed on the back. (I asked him if he had a bike now, and he said, no, it's just for the kids's bikes. But then the RK mentioned the other day that his dad and she ride bikes with the kids, too. And after some questioning, it was quite evident that these bikes were not rented.) Oh yes...he went to the Tim & Faith concert, too. (OK...I'll let that one slide...I went to the Rascal Flatts concert the following week.) And not to mention the new shoes I've seen him in, new clothes, etc. And oh yes...he received some sort of new credit card in the mail here at the house not too long ago. I wonder if there was one in there with her name on it, too.

I need to let it go. He's digging his own grave, and I just need to summon the patience to wait for it to all come caving in on him. No, actually, I just need to

LET.

IT.

GO.

As long as he makes those child support payments, I shouldn't care. And here in the grand state of Michigan, I took advantage of my option to go ahead and have it garnished from his wages from the get-go.


He's asked me if it would be agreeable to me if he could take the kids every weekend for the rest of the summer, until school starts. While I horribly miss my babies while they're gone, I also think it's good for me. I know the RK has a lot more fun on his weekends with his dad that what I have for him here at the house, so I avoid that source of guilt for not giving him a more entertaining time here at the house. I think I just might go ahead and say OK. I am really enjoying the time to myself, and the RK is really enjoying his weekends with his dad.

Oh yes! The weekend! I did end up going to that meet & greet at the neighbor's, but not until after 10:00. But that was OK, because they have a bit of a wild streak in them like I do. They had a keg...I don't think I've had beer from a keg since those 'enlightening' and 'informative' days back at UT Austin! My head hit the pillow at straight-up 2:00. It's nice to know I have a good source of blowing off steam when I need to.

The next day was another meet & greet at the clubhouse of the subdivision, spearheaded by my neighbor two doors down. I had told him I'd come help and set up, since I didn't have the IB to chase after. It was a much more mellow time than the night before, but still great. I did meet a lot of neighbors, one of which I hope I'll run into again. An older, single woman who might be a good source of babysitting. We all had a lot of fun slamming our builder and all the issues we're having with our houses. It was funny.

Oh my gosh... Let It Go just came on my iPod! Frighteningly appropriate. I'll probably listen to it a couple more times before the night's over.

That's all I have for now. From this day forward, though, the IH will now be referred to as the IX. I can't believe this day is here. I never thought in a millions years this day would ever hit my calendar. But it has.

Movin' on...

Amazed

My babies are gone again. And again, I just don't know what to do with myself.

I just finished my latest Netflix movie, Premonition with Sandra Bullock. It was riveting all the way through. And quite sad. It has left me with all kinds of thoughts going through my head. It touched a nerve. I don't feel like getting into the plot right now...you'll just have to see it for yourself.

The movie touched on the potential for infidelity within marriage, but the potential is not realized. And timing and reason for the way things happen the way they do is the whole underlying theme of this story, and like I do with anything I watch or read, I relate it to my own life.

I think now is a good time to tell a little more of my own story.

The existence of the IB is that quandary I have of why things happen when they do, and why. His creation is one of those great mysteries of life I have yet solve. And probably won't for quite a long time. You see, he was conceived after my husband had fallen into adultery, but before I knew about it.

And I know the exact date. I remember all the circumstances vividly. I was desperately trying to connect with my husband, to try and portray to him yet again just how much I loved him. But looking back on it now, and really on our whole marriage, he just didn't have a deep end. I was never, ever able to reach into his soul like I craved. And he had absolutely no desire to reach into mine.

My husband told me of his affair with the very best friend I had on Christmas Eve 2005. There were some pretty substantial events beforehand that precipitated him telling me when he did, so while that wasn't exactly the best choice of dates on the calendar to choose, it happened when it happened for a good reason. We spent the better part of Christmas Day in our bedroom, with the door shut, talking ourselves blue in the face. And thank God for the RK's Christmas presents...he was occupied with those to let us hash this out.

I didn't get angry, or go crazy...in fact, one of the first things I said was, "I believe this is just what our marriage needed to get us on track." Oh, how I loved him so. For these few days around Christmas, the IH was convinced that he needed to stick by his family and work things out. But then on Dec. 27, he, with my blessing, meets with her to tell her it's over. And when he comes home, he's a mess. He lets me know that she's like a drug he's addicted to. We go to bed, and while he's capable of sleeping through anything, things in my head are swirling around at a million miles an hour. And he lays there, snoring. Finally around 2:00, I feel like I'm about to go absolutely crazy with it all, I wake him up and tell him that I'm going to drive myself to the hospital for some relief...be it medical or psychological. And that's just what I do.

It was so hard for me to tell the triage nurse exactly why I was there, but somehow I manage to get through it, and they escort me back to a bed after taking my vitals. They ask me if I could be pregnant, because they don't want to give me any medication that could potentially harm a fetus. I tell them I guess it's possible, but in the back of my mind, I felt like the chances were zero. I laid on that bed trying to get some sleep while I waited and waited, and finally the doctor came back, saying that there wasn't anyone who could come talk to me on site, but that he had a list of clinics and doctors that if I went to one right now, they'd see me immediately without an appointment. At this point, I stop him and say, "So my pregnancy test was negative..."

"No, it was positive. Who told you it was negative?"

And just like that was how I found out. Four days after I learned my husband was having an affair.

And two full years after I had gone off birth control.


We hadn't even really been trying for another baby. I thought the birth control pills were adversely affecting my hormones, and I was tired of never feeling like I wanted to be with my husband. And now that I think back on it, he never really wholeheartedly agreed to this...he just went along with it. And that's the story of our entire relationship together right there. He just went along with whatever it was, never flat-out disagreeing with me, or agreeing with me.

My philosophy on going off the pill was that if God wanted us to have another baby, there was really nothing we could do about it, and He would take care of everything we needed. He created the baby, after all, and I was putting my faith in Him to meet all of its, and our needs. And the IH was basically, "Yeah, OK...whatever."

I so desperately wanted to have a fulfilling, mutually satisfying marriage. And I thought that perhaps if I went off the pill, my sex drive would come back and we'd be on our way. But now I know that perhaps it wasn't the pill screwing up my hormones...the issues went much, much deeper.

Anyway, I just remember feeling super-sensitive to my surroundings after receiving this news. Signing out, walking out to my car, driving home, wondering how in the hell I was going give up smoking at a time like this, waking him up to tell him and wondering if he was really even awake when I did. It's like I can remember every single second of that time, yet on another level I can't remember any of it.

I love being pregnant. I think it's one of the most amazing things a woman can experience, and I am so thankful to God to have been blessed with the experience. But I have to admit, the time I was carrying the IB was anything but joyful. I was the carrying the child of a man who really wanted nothing to do with me, instead of a man who thought I was so beautiful with our own unique creation inside me. I was with someone who thought there was nothing wrong with asking me to mop the floor when I was seven months along, instead of a man who wanted to spoil me and coddle me and drive me crazy trying take care of me. So much joy was robbed from this pregnancy, and I'm so angry about that.

And the IB's entrance into the world didn't go very smoothly. Labor went fine, but when he finally came out, he didn't breathe. For those of you who know the Apgar scale, his scores were 2/5/7. He spent five days in the NICU under observation. He was definitely one of the healthiest babies in there, and once he met all the criteria he needed to meet, they sent him home.

And yes, I take full responsibility for his difficulties. I smoked all through the pregnancy, right up to the end. I just wasn't strong enough to give it up with everything else I was having to deal with. And yes, I feel absolutely horrible about it. I'll take that with me to my grave. So please...no nasty comments about how selfish I was, or how could I do that...I'm already in hell over it.

The first night the IB spent in our home, the IH spent in the hotel. With her. The whole first week, in fact.

I just don't understand how a father could be capable of doing something like that to his newborn son...or how a husband could do that to his wife who just bore that son. The lack of an answer to this just eats at me...tears me up. I just don't get it.

And true to the name of my blog...the silver lining:

The IB! Words just can't describe what he is. Precious doesn't cover it. Angel doesn't cover it. Delight...nope. Amazing... Perfect... Beautiful... Miracle...

...that's a good place to stop. He is healthy, he is happy. His little 11-month-old personality is utterly addictive. He has the most beautiful smile which is always readily available. His hair is golden, his eyes the color of the sky. His hands...oh, those sweet little hands! Fat little fingers with dimples in the knuckles, soft little peach fuzz on them as well (I just noticed that today!), his little fingernails that grow so fast, and that big callous on his right thumb from him sucking it. His little toes go straight across, just like my mom says mine did when I was a baby. His tummy that I love to tickle and poke...and then he laughs. Scrunches up his nose, closes his eyes, and chortles.

I could go on and on...and my concluding thought is this...

Oh dear Lord, what in the world do you have in store for that precious little boy?! That you brought him into this world when you did, I don't understand. But I know I will someday. I know you have big things set up for his future, and I just pray that you guide me to help him fulfill it all.

Breathe in, breathe out

I just got the RK tucked into bed, after turning down his request to sleep in my bed tonight. He says he doesn't like being alone. I promised him he could sleep in my bed tomorrow night.

He had been watching Nick, so when I got back downstairs, I decided to turn on the Sirius country radio station on my Dish. And the song playing is "Bring It On Home" by Little Big Town.

You've got someone here
Wants to make it all right
Someone that loves you more
Than life right here
You've got willing arms that'll hold you tight
A hand to lead you on through the night right here
I know your heart can get
All tangled up inside
But don't you keep it to yourself

When your long day is over
And you can barely drag your feet
The weight of the world
Is on your shoulders
I know what you need
Bring it on home to me

You know I know you
Like the back of my hand
You know I'm gonna do
All that I can right here
Gonna lie with you
Till you fall asleep
When the morning comes
I'm still gonna be right here
Yes, I am
(Ooooooooooooo)
So take your worries and
Just drop them at the door
Baby, leave it all behind

When your long day is over
And you can barely drag your feet
The weight of the world
Is on your shoulders
I know what you need
Bring it on home to me

Baby, let me be your safe harbor
Don't let the water come
And carry you away

When your long day is over
And you can barely drag your feet
The weight of the world
Is on your shoulders
I know what you need
Bring it on home to me

Oh, bring it on home
Yeah, bring it on home to me
Home to me
Oh, bring it on, bring it on home
to me

You've got someone here wants
To make it all right
Someone that loves you more
Than life right here

This song was on the charts last summer. I remember it's one of the very first songs I bought on iTunes for my brand new iPod.

Last summer was unforgettable. I was living in my very first home. Brand new. My husband was so very distant, always emotionally, and sometimes physically. He was here, then at the hotel. Then here again. Sleeping on the couch, sleeping next to me while I was tortured by his constant infliction of pain, sleeping in a bed miles and miles away.

All while we were expecting the arrival of our second child. I had been diagnosed with gestational diabetes, so my life was also consumed with finger pokes, insulin injections, and craving the forbidden joy of french fries and Dairy Queen. And always feeling like complete shit that I just wasn't strong enough to give up smoking even though I was harboring a brand new precious little soul in my belly.

I desperately needed a rock. A shoulder. I desperately wanted to be his rock. And this song absolutely reached deep down inside me and touched a nerve that was so fragile and raw, I could hardly listen to it without giving in to the tears that were always at the point of spilling at a second's notice.

I tried to play this song for him and convey to him that that was exactly how I felt about him, but he had no capacity for allowing music to touch his soul. Especially if it touched mine.

And hearing it just now sent me right back to last summer. And reflecting on what all has happened since then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm so sorry I haven't been back to let y'all know how things went on Thursday. I'm ending one of the most stressful and exhausting weeks of my entire life, and I just didn't have the strength or the energy to try to put it all in print until now. And even now I'm still emotionally exhausted and utterly drained.

I made it to the courthouse on Thursday about 10 minutes 'til 2, and as I reached the top of the stairs, I immediately saw the IH waiting for his attorney to show up. He was wearing a nice polo shirt and khaki slacks, and I thought he looked so handsome. And that damn goatee...

...back when we first started dating, he decided at one point to grow a goatee. And he looked gorgeous. But soon after he got a promotion at work, and he decided to shave it.

And he didn't decide to grow another one until after we'd moved into the house last year. I told him how hot I always thought he looks with it, and he once again decided to shave it off. Now he's had it again for months. And it pisses me off that I have to see him looking so handsome for another woman. I just don't understand...he'll keep it for her, but not for me.

Back to Thursday... I couldn't even look directly at him. I didn't even acknowledge his presence. I just couldn't. And he made no approach to me. We still had some issues to muddle through and come to an agreement over, so I waited for my attorney, and he waited for his. And they did all the talking. We finally settled on the last sticking points (I'm not getting nearly what I wanted for child/spousal support, but it's still enough to put a big hole in his wallet every month.), and then we had to go into the courtroom and state it all into the record. I'm still not acknowledging his presence at this point.

The court reporter swears the IH and me in to tell the whole truth and nothing but, and then my attorney starts asking me all about the terms we've agreed upon. I answer "Yes" or "Correct" to each one as she rattles them off. Except there at the beginning when she gets to the one about no chance of reconciliation being present, I answered, "Apparently not." When she got to the part about his parenting time, it took me a minute to get out the 'yes,' and my voice cracked as I said it.

I had never been in a courtroom before. It was sheer hell. I was so glad to get out of there and away from him. I was so exhausted at this point. But anyway, all that has to happen for this to be done and over with is new papers with the final draft of our agreement drawn up and signed by him, me, and the judge. And the judge said he'd have them signed by July 30.

And then I won't be married anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wanted to try to get the goody bags for the RK's party stuffed that night, but I was done for the day. Couldn't do anything else productive. I was basically in a zombie state for the rest of the day, capitulating to the idea of McDonald's for dinner because I couldn't stand the thought of going into that kitchen to cook something. I put the IB to bed way early, because he didn't have a nap at the neighbor's, and he was exhausted, too. And I certainly wasn't in any state of mind to be a good mommy to such a tiny, precious, needy little soul.

One thing we did, though, was go check out the subdivision's clubhouse where the RK's party was going to be the next night. And there's a pool table in there, so we took off the cover and I taught the RK how to play 9-ball. That was kind of neat. I wish there was some sort of open access to the clubhouse from time to time so that pool table could be enjoyed a little more.

So the next day, I had to watch the girls of the neighbor that watched my boys for me the day before. We have a nice agreement like that, but on this particular day, I really wish I could've found a way out of it, given that I had a party to get ready for all by myself.

And the IH took the day off to spend time with the RK on his birthday. A few days before, I had asked if he could take the IB too, so that way I wouldn't have him to worry about while I got ready for the party, and he said sure. But Friday, he had somehow managed to forget that part. That pissed me off to no end. He took the IB without an argument, though. So then my day went like this:

• Call the pizza place to order pizzas for that night
• Drive to Sam's to pick up cake and ice cream, a veggie tray, industrial-sized bag of salad, and candy for goody bags
• Drive to grocery store for 2-litres of Coke and veggies for aforementioned industrial-sized salad
• Drive to party supply store to pick up balloon bouquets and struggle to get all those damn balloons into the car at the same time without getting them all tangled up together (keep in mind that ice cream is still in the back seat melting away)
• Head straight to clubhouse to get cold stuff in fridge/freezer (I turned the fridge to the coldest setting hoping to get the beer cold faster, but it was still warm by the time the party started. So I stuck it in the freezer. And no, none exploded.)
• I sat down at the kitchen bar and made a list of everything I wanted to bring from the house. Some of the highlights were the ladder (to decorate), knife/cutting board for the salad, the IB's chow chair, boombox, broom/dustpan. And lots of other little things. I had the back of my car totally full by the time I got all this stuff in there.
• So now it's around 4:00. I get to hanging streamers, and banners, and placing the balloon bouquets in different locations (after getting them untangled) to see what looks the best and most festive. I'm pretty on-track. I'm quite proud of myself at this point.
• I really wanted to head back to the house to put on some makeup, but didn't get done until it was about 20 'til 6. Oh well.

And all this time, I'm periodically getting text messages from the IH saying they're stuck in traffic. They had gone to the zoo (the Detroit Zoo, which is closer to where we used to live, rather than the the Toledo Zoo, which is much closer to where we live now. Dumbass.), and were stuck in traffic on the freeway that always gets horribly backed up at quittin' time. Not to mention it's Friday of a holiday weekend. And then they go through a very well-publicized batch of construction on another freeway. So the RK didn't show up to his own party until about 30 minutes after it started.

The IH informed me I had only left one diaper for the IB in his bag, so I asked him if he could run back to the house for me to grab a few. He gets down to the house, and he can't get in (I changed the garage door code and confiscated his remote and housekeys the day he left). So I drive down there and get the diapers myself. He takes this opportunity to ask me if he's supposed to stay for the party or not. I say, "Pssht! No!" I can't believe he'd want to stay, given that everyone in that room thinks he's a lying, cheating, sonofabitch scumbag. Oh, let me add stupid to that list.

The party went great, though. The pizza was on time. The kids had fun playing with the pool table, and swimming. And running around like little banshees. The grown-ups had fun. The RK had fun and got great presents (including 3 Nerf guns, all different. PERFECTION.) I had amazing help with the IB from my wonderful neighbors who wanted to come help my firstborn celebrate his tenth birthday. They basically traded off with him over the course of the night. I even found a strange diaper on him when I got him home that night. I actually kind of missed him by the end of the night...I hadn't hardly seen him at all that whole day!

Two moms ended up staying late into the night while all our kids played, and we drank some more of the beer and chatted. It was great.

The IB was sleeping in his stroller, which was pushed into a dark little corner. He woke up screaming around 11:30, so that's when we all decided to call it a night. I decided to go get my kiddoes in bed and go back up the clubhouse to try to finish cleaning up. The IB was so completely frazzled and exhausted from his schedule being completely thrown out of whack the last two days, he got quite a screaming jag going that a bottle of formula couldn't even soothe. I finally decided to just put him into his bed and let him cry it out. Nothing else was going to work at this point. And by the time I brought the first carload of stuff back to the house, all was quiet. Bless his precious little heart.

I got everything done and all cleaned up at the clubhouse by about 2:00 AM. I had so much pizza leftover. I had tons of that industrial-sized salad leftover. I wondered how many of the 30+ people that showed up actually ate. So now the RK and I are going on a pizza diet.

I still don't have all the crap from the party put away. I left that salad sitting out on my rangetop until this morning, and it looked pretty sad. I'm slowly recovering from the past week of heaven and hell I went through. My house has paid the price as well, and I'm getting to the point I hate it. I desperately want to clean it, but just don't have the physical energy or the motivation to actually get to work on it. And that is the most torturous feeling I think I've ever felt.

So my life has been blessed by the presence of my firstborn for an entire decade now. I've been called "Mommy" for ten whole years. Oh, my life is so rich. So blessed. So amazing.

The word 'desperation' just doesn't cover it

I hate it when I come up with all kinds of brilliant and profound things to say when I'm not sitting at my computer.

And frankly, I'm horrible at fully expressing these thoughts and emotions into the written word.

Music is such a big part of this for me.

I have my iPod on right now, at the moment listening to a little Stevie Ray. RIP.

I feel like I'm coming out of my emotional funk that consumed the past week of my life. And what a waste. I would've much rather been doing more joyful things.

I desperately need feedback from my dutiful readers. And thanks for reading and offering your comments, by the way. I'm so grateful.

I conceded this past week about letting my husband have his every-other-weekend parenting time with her. I had it put in my counter-proposal that the IH is allowed to have his parenting time around her, but if any emotional distress should become apparent, the arrangement will be revisted and the RK will get counseling.

Am I caving? Or am I being realistic?

This past weekend was horrible for me.

The IH informed me that she (and frankly, she doesn't even deserve the trouble I go through to put any reference to her in italics) thinks he needs to stand up for himself, and that his boys should be allowed to spend time with her and her kids. Like a perfect little family.

Excuse me while I puke.

Why is it that I've been hearing of all these other divorce cases where it's stipulated that the non-custodial parent is to not spend their parenting time with any sort of 'significant other'? So why must I forfeit this because my husband decided to shack up with this significant other? And not to mention the fact that this sig. other used to be a big part of my son's life, given that her son and my son were the best of friends?

Am I caving? Or should I stick to my guns?

The IH is not disputing who's going to be the custodial parent: me. The whole reason I'm fighting for this is for my children's wellbeing. But is it really that big of a risk, or am I just not seeing clearly through the fog of emotion I'm in? I mean, can that much emotional harm really come to the RK from 2 out of every 14 days? He's really excited about getting to be with his 'best friend' again. And I asked him to please let me know if there's any weird feelings or other issues he comes across once this whole routine starts.

But this raises another thought: if this is the way it's gonna be, the RK needs to understand that that is the only time he'll be able to spend with this friend. Every other weekend. No more. Just his weekends with his dad. Period.

Oh Lord, that just raises a whole other mess for me.

I don't know what to do!

Desperation.

The IH is completely oblivious to anything that resembles reality, especially if it's coming out of this mouth in particular. Do I take this chance, and take the risk that it's going to harm my sweet little boy's delicate emotional psyche? Or do I bust my ass to fight this? Is it a legitimate fight in the first place? Or am I just blinded and skewed by the overpowering emotions I'm consumed with?

Financially, I'm already in the hole with my lawyer, and this would just make it much worse. But I love my kids with the fiercest of passions, and if this is something I should fight for, I'll find a way. The method eludes me at this point, but I'll do it if I should.

Please take a moment...I need some good detached, objective advice. Please offer me your thoughts and suggestions, and I'll be praying for clarity of mind and open eyes to weigh it all appropriately.

Damn it...this post turned out to be nothing like I thought it would. Or had intended. I wish I could just telepathically think my thoughts onto this blog. Hopefully I'll have the opportunity to put some of those mind-blowing epiphanies on here some other time.

Thanks in advance...I love y'all!

The light at the end of the tunnel

Sorry for the downer posts lately. I don't like writing them, but I'm very thankful for this outlet when these thoughts and feelings do get the better of me. And this past week was one of those times, I'm afraid.

Since the IH moved out, I've had quite a few periods of time where my emotions have gotten the better of me and have completely paralyzed me like this. One time back in January, I even had to call my mom to come stay with me, if for nothing else but to break up the sad monotony around here. And God bless her, she did.

I've been doing so good here for such a good long stretch of time, but I guess the settlement hearing coming up next week is making me all too aware of the fact that I am about to be divorced. And that just makes me so sad. The reality of it all just hit me all of a sudden, and there wasn't much I could do about it. Hopefully I'll remain true to form as in the past, and I'll snap out of it quickly and painlessly.

I did get to the point yesterday where I called the IH and chewed him out again. Well, not so much chewing out as trying to appeal to his tiny, hard, crusty, buried soul concerning this whole parenting time thing. And he's making it plenty evident that he is not, and has never been willing to make the kind of sacrifices for anyone who cares about him and is willing to sacrifice for him. While we were talking, he kept bringing up the point that we just grew apart, and he just doesn't think it's anything that can be overcome. So I told him that the reason we grew apart is because through the years, I grew and he didn't. When he has questions about the intangibles of life, he asks them, but then if he doesn't get answers he understands or likes, he'll just make up his own version of reality.

For example: A past conversation I've had with IH.

Me: "Love isn't easy. You aren't going to find a person in this world who thinks like you, does things like you or agrees with everything you think. But when you meet someone who grows to love you and you grow to love them, it is hard work to learn how to live together without sacrficing either of y'all's happiness. But it can be done."

IH: "You mean love is hard work?"

Me: "Yep."

IH: "Well, it shouldn't be."

It's really quite sad. See how he just created his own version of reality? ...sigh...

Over the years, I desperately tried to bring him along on my journey of growth (which is far from over, believe me), but he has always been too afraid to look at what might be hidden deeper than his skin. And he's never been able to put his faith and trust in another person to bare his soul to them.

That right there is why we grew apart.

But really, how can anyone expect him to bare his soul to them when he can't even bare it to himself?

I hope the ho-bag realizes this before it's too late for her. And the IH has said in the past that he knows that before too long she's going to be wanting a lot of the same things from him that I've wanted all these years.

The IH did acknowledge through the course of the conversation that he really doesn't have any business being married to anybody. I hope he really takes that to heart.

I'm desperately trying to keep the high road in all this, because my kids are watching what I do and how I handle this. But the IH is totally convinced that I'm trying to stick it to him where it hurts. I've never ever played dirty, throughout or marriage or this divorce. But I guess that's one way for him to rationalize all this away.

Our conversation went on for well over an hour, and I'll spare you any more of the pathetic details. Anyway, he's coming over today to spend time with the kids, and I shudder at the thought of having to be around him. I'll do it for those precious babies, though.

Well, the RK is asking for some breakfast, so I'll end y'all's misery right here. Again...thanks to all of you who have been offering your thoughts, advice and concern. It does my heart a world of good!

Give me a minute...or ten...

So far today has been one of those utterly lazy, disgustingly unproductive sorts of days. Well, I take that back. It has been somewhat productive, in that I started off the day by getting a phone call from my lawyer to go over the IH's latest response to my terms of the divorce. That took about 40 minutes. Fun. What a great way to start off the day!

I asked her about the reality of my request to keep him from spending any of his parenting time with her, and she said it doesn't look good. So we came up with this concession: Should the RK show any signs of emotional distress during his time with his dad and sig. other, the terms of the arrangement will be revisited and counseling sought. But I just can't bear to think of when the time comes that the RK and the IB have their bags packed, waiting by the door, and I have to let them go off with their dad for that first weekend. I have a feeling I'll be a total basket case that weekend. And I'll definitely be praying for their emotional protection the whole time! (Shudder...I can't stand the thought of that woman anywhere near my baby.)

So anyway, after I got off the phone with my lawyer, I started to realize I'm still not feeling all that great. My lower back really hurts, but not from an orthopedic standpoint...more like it's my kidneys or something. I don't have a whole lot of energy, and there's something not quite right with my lower digestive system. I'm feeling better right now than I was earlier today, but I'm still moving quite slowly. I really need to get to the grocery store, and I'm hoping I'll continue my improvement so perhaps the three of us can head out a little bit later. (The IB got all excited when I was looking through the grocery ads and let him know that Cheerios are on sale this week at Meijer! SCORE!)

I just put the IB down for a nap, and I think I'll take this opportunity to do the same.

Untitled

I'm upstairs in bed, not really ready to go to sleep, but still not feeling quite right. The RK is downstairs with his pillow and his 'buddies' on the couch watching a movie. He is so precious. I am so proud of him. I hate what his father has done to this beautiful boy's life. And I'm so worried about his future.

I have my DVR set to record all the new episodes of a show on the A&E network called Intervention. I came upstairs and found a recent episode in my list of shows on the DVR, so I decided to watch it.

This show is so disturbing. The subjects agree to participate in a documentary about addiction, and let the cameras follow them as they go through their day. This includes filming the subjects using drugs, drinking, binging & purging, whatever the acts of their particular addiction are. I find the IV drug users' stories especially disturbing, and often I have to look away from the TV while they're shooting up.

At the beginning of each episode, we get a brief life history of the subjects, and so often they were destined for greatness. And frankly, I can't recall a single episode where there wasn't some sort of serious dysfunction for these people growing up, and their parents have usually divorced. And as a result of an unstable household, these people have managed to find their way into the stranglehold of some sort of illicit substance, which subsequently tears apart their lives, and the lives of those that love them most.

I think with every episode I watch now, I internalize them. I am so terrified for my boys, especially the RK. I want to do whatever I have to to make sure he doesn't go down this road. I can't control was his father does, but I just want to make sure that I'm doing whatever I must to make the RK's life as stable, fulfilling, and happy as possible despite his father's horrible decisions.

I am so angry that not only has one parent willingly walked away from being a full-time parent, but because of that, it's also taking away a lot of the parent that he's leaving behind. The IH and I had agreed when the RK was born that I would be a stay-at-home mom. In fact, not too long after he was born, I found a job as a part-time bank teller, but when the time came for me to find daycare for the RK, and I will never forget this as long as I live, IH actually broke down and cried while holding his beautiful son over the idea of anyone else taking care of him. So I didn't take the job.

And now it just breaks my heart to see how the IH's priorities have changed so drastically. All of a sudden, strangers taking care of his kids is no longer a big deal to him.

And the injustice in all this is that it is still such a big deal to me, and if he'd just get his priorities back in line, I wouldn't be forced into raising my kids how I don't want to. That's the way I see it, anyway.

While this still hurts like hell, I'm finally getting to a place where I'm starting to accept the different future that lies ahead of me, and I'm desperately trying to steel myself for the much tougher job that I'm being forced into as these boys' now single mother.

This is just so not fair for them. How could he do this? And how can he sincerely convince himself that all this OK, it's no big deal? Oh, how it breaks my heart to watch this horrible metamorphosis of the man I devoted my life to!

When the IH moved out for the last time this past November, he moved in with his mistress, and her kids. She has a son, 9, and a daughter, 3. She, her husband, and their two kids became our best friends almost four years ago. We did everything together. The men were best friends. The women were best friends. And yes, the two boys were best friends. After the IH told me of the affair, hoping I would just dump his sorry ass so he'd be free to be with her, I dealt him a hand he wasn't expecting. I fought. I fought like hell for my marriage. And over the following months, he'd waffle back and forth about what he was going to do. Especially when we found out I was pregnant. Initially, he decided he was going to stick by his family, and do whatever it took to work this out. And I told him that if that's the case, then it has to be as if this woman and her family don't exist anymore. Period. The worst part of this is the two boys having to end their friendship for such a horrible reason, and through no fault of their own.

So far, this divorce has been quite amicable. The IH knows he royally screwed up, and seems pretty willing to take his lumps in the settlement. But we have one major sticking point that we're butting heads on. Because of his living arrangements, and the sensitive nature of our previous relationship with his homewrecking whore *ahem* his mistress, I want the court to approve the stipulation that he cannot have any of his parenting time with her and her family. The RK has worked so hard to move on from being forced to end this friendship, and given the chances of this 'relationship' surviving, I don't want to set the RK up to have to go through it all over again. And besides, I feel like if I send the RK off with his dad for the weekend like that, it'd be sending him the message that what his dad & this 'woman' (again, I use this word loosely) are doing is OK.

Another point: what will the RK think as he enters into this household where Daddy is now living with his ex-best friend and his mommy like he used to live with him and his own mommy? That just gives me waves of nausea. The RK is excited about the thought of getting to be back in the life of this friend, but I think if it actually does happen, it won't be as happy and comfortable as the IH thinks it will be.

It doesn't sound like the court is on my side in this so far, and frankly, I don't have the financial means to draw this out. I think for now I'm just going to keep appealing to my husband's nonexistent conscience to try to get him to agree to this. I have no issue with him spending every other weekend with his kids...just not with her around. And what makes me so sick is that the IH is completely oblivious to the potential for any ill effect this could have on the RK. He's been abiding by my wishes thus far, because he knows the RK and I have had a talk about not keeping any secrets from Mommy if Daddy asks him to.

It absolutely shatters my heart to see how the IH has completely blinded himself to the horrible effects the decisions he's making is having on the people that love him the most. I'm just so afraid that these cards my boys have been dealt have put them more at risk for ending up like those poor people on Intervention.

I have a strong faith in God, though, and as hard as it can be, I'm trying to remember that He is in control, and He has His protective hand over my children during whatever life may throw at them.

I need to get some sleep...

Randomness, and finally my conversation with the IH

Alas, another Friday is upon us! My house was full of kids a little while ago...while I'm still watching the RK's good buddy, I also watched the three little girls of my neighbor that lives down the block for the morning. And it went quite well, given that I don't really have anything for little girls to play with. Well, except the IB. They LOVE him. He was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the three of them, loving the attention he was getting! I put him down for his morning nap after a while, and then we spent some time outside playing ball, decorating the driveway with chalk, soaking in a little sun.

This is going to become a regular thing...every other Friday, and instead of accepting payment, their mom has offered to watch my kids whenever I need her to. Sounds like a great idea to me!

I know the boys must be hungry for lunch, but I'm procrastinating offering them anything, because I have no earthly idea what to feed them. I'm all out of lunchmeat, and there isn't really anything in the fridge that would be good for lunch. Argh. Maybe some PB&J...although the RK isn't big on those.

Never heard from The Guy last night. Oh well. I'm trying not to freak about it. If he's decided he doesn't want to pursue this any further, that's OK. I'm still hoping I'll hear from him again, and perhaps be offered the chance to go out.

Wasn't the NBA finals this year such a big ol' dud? First of all, the Pistons didn't make it. OK, so I'll cheer for San Antonio. But they didn't need me to. Blah. I hate sweeps. BO-RING! I watched maybe 5 minutes of the game last night, then switched over to Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Then went to bed early...good for me!

OK, given that this post is taking quite a random nature, I'll fill y'all in on the talk I had with the IH this past Sunday. He has dug himself into a huge amount of debt since we separated. All on new credit cards, or ones he has taken my name off of, so I'm not really pissed about it. Anyway, he proposed that he empty out his 401(k) to pay off all this debt and get himself out of his massive cavernous hole. He has to go through me, since I'm entitled to half of whatever's in there. He even offered to pay off my bills with this money, although they're not outrageous like his, and then he threw me this bone: "And then you could maybe even put a deck on the back of the house, or something." That tempted me for about a nanosecond, but that's it. He tried expressing to me the seriousness of this situation he's in, appealing to my sympathetic nature. But what he's learning is that that ship has sailed. My reply to this particular tactic was, and I quote: "Sorry to hear that, but I really don't give a shit." I told him I'd talk to my lawyer about it, and he said he'd text me with some hard numbers, etc.

In retrospect, I've decided to not go for this. For my sake, and partly for his, as well. I don't think he has any idea yet of how he won't have nearly as much cash-in-hand as he thinks he will...Uncle Sam is going to take a GINORMOUS chunk of it, and then there will be fees, penalties, etc. to the company managing the account. It's a temporary fix for a permanent problem...

This man doesn't know the meaning of delayed gratification. He's always been all about the quick & easy fix, and just says to hell with the future consequences. He wanted and wanted and wanted a house for so long, but never did a damn thing to get him any closer to acquiring one. He's talked for years and years about opening up some sort of fast food franchise, but that's all it was....just talk. He doesn't know how not to spend money, rationalizing away every purchase, most of them totally ridiculous. He has no concept of the future, just living life day-to-day with no certain goals or dreams.

And that right there was the death sentence for our marriage. One day he woke up and decided to put everything he had been blessed with, namely his family, on the line, so he started sleeping with another woman. And as his physical desires for her grew, he continually ignored the consequences of his actions, and he kept doing it. To hell with those who have loved him the most. And ultimately, he decided that none of this was worth giving up the mind-blowing sex he was getting from this woman (and I use that term loosely). Oh well, he says. Moving on... I just don't get that. I'm very intrigued to watch how his life ultimately turns out. I know he's not headed for anything he actually thinks he is.

So anyway, the next time I hear anything about this diabolical 401(k) plan, I'm gonna make the suggestion to him that he get a second job and develop a financial plan to get his debt paid off over a period of time. I doubt he can do it, though. I don't really care what happens to him, as long as he's continually able to make those child/spousal support payments. I know 30 years from now, he'd really be kicking himself for going through with something like this now. I hope he drops this stupid idea.

I hear the IB waking up...gotta run!

Some things are hard to let go of

I'm a bit of mess today. That wedding reception is tonight, and IH is coming here straight from work today to babysit.

I don't like him being in this house.

The existence of our marriage was him making me feel like complete shit for not keeping our dwelling clean and shiny to his standards. He made me feel very worthless, to the point where I'd do nothing but sit on the couch all day long watching TV or sleeping. I mean, why would I bother trying to keep his house clean if I knew it would never be enough? And while I've never been the cleanest, neatest person, I'm not exactly a disgustingly filthy slob either. He could probably be diagnosed with OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) when it comes to cleaning. His standards are unrealistically high. And the way I see it is because I refused to raise my standards up to his spoil-the-fun-out-of-life levels, I wasn't worth much to him. Oh yeah...and the fact that I rarely wanted to have sex with him. Hmmm....why could that be?

So he was basically the housekeeper between the two of us. Which in theory, I don't have a problem with. If your standards are so high, then go knock yourself out. But don't you dare hold it against me because mine aren't, and I refuse to conform.

Now don't get me wrong. I tried really hard to do things the way he liked, because in all honesty, I desperately wanted to make him happy. For instance, I'm usually not a daily bed-maker. One day a few years ago, IH let me know it really drives him crazy when the bed's not made when he gets home from work. So I started making the bed everyday. He also let it be known that dishes in the sink are another pet peeve of his. Great...most of the time, the dishes were done and the sink was empty when he arrived home. Occasionally, though, I'd forget about them throughout the day, and would only remember them as soon as he arrived home. And right away I'd jump up and get them done then.

OK...I just have to ask one question here... How completely pathetic is it that the first thing I'd think of when my husband came home from work is "Oh crap, I forgot about the dishes"? That's something seriously disturbing right there.

So back to today...

I'm making a lot of progress in moving on from my dreams of spending the rest of my life with him, and I'm totally impressed with and proud of myself for the job I've been doing on my own thus far. But knowing that he's going to be here tonight, I still crave his approval. I have this overpowering desire to show him how he majorly underestimated me all these years by having my house be completely spotless and gorgeous when he gets here. But I just don't have the time or the opportunity to accomplish that. That little IB keeps me away from a lot of the household chores that need to get done. But that's OK....he is the priority. The housework can wait.

I was thinking about this before I went to bed last night, and even if my house won't be completely spotless when he gets here this evening, he's still gonna have his socks blown off. He hasn't seen the landscaping yet.

So I'm gonna spend the better part of my day cleaning. Yes, even after all that. Let's face it. It should be getting done anyway, and even if the motivation for my doing it is a little sick and twisted, so what? I just need to put my attitude in check and not let it turn me in a raving lunatic.

I'll let you know how it all ends up.

Happy Memorial Day!

Is it just me, or did the French Open start a day earlier than usual? I've never known a Grand Slam tennis tournament to start on a Sunday. And I can't find anything explaining it online, which makes me think it's just me. If there's anyone out there reading this that has an explanation or knows of a place where I can read about it, please shoot me a comment...it's really driving me crazy.


I'm really geeked that the Grand Slam tennis season is here once again. Tennis is such a great distraction for me until football season rolls around. I love watching tennis. I've grown up watching tennis. ("Mommy, they're playing deuce!") Over the years, I've learned all the rules, the scoring, the strategies, the strengths and weaknesses of one particular surface over another. For instance: Americans suck on clay, while anyone from a Spanish/Portuguese-speaking country rules the school. Grass seems to be the universal surface with no major drawbacks, and hardcourt is where Americans shine. I would make such a great chair umpire. I'm not any good at playing the game, but I could definitely referee it.


The French Open is my least favorite tourney. Well, the Australian Open doesn't thrill me much, because it's always airing in the middle of the night, and besides, they play it in January or February, don't they? And I can't decide if I like Wimbledon or the U.S. Open the most. I love the U.S. Open because the tennis facility is equipped with lights. That means sometimes we get to stay up late, late, late to watch thrilling, incredible, exciting tennis into the wee hours of the morning. I don't know what it is, but for some reason, that's when the best tennis always happens.


Oh....come on football season....


The RK just came in the house from spending the night at a friend's house here in the neighborhood. It was a last minute thing...he had been playing over there for the better part of the afternoon into the evening, and when he's 45 minutes late from getting home at 6:00 like I asked him to, I get a phone call.

"Mommy, I know I'm already 45 minutes late, but can I stay longer? We're having so much fun."

"Sure, sweetie. I'll see you in a little while."


So then I get another call around 8:30:

"Mommy, can I please please please please PLEASE spend the night???"


I agree, and ask to speak to his friend's mom. She says she just doesn't want to break up the fun they've been having, that it's pefectly all right if he stays, that they have PJ's and a sleeping bag he can borrow. I express my overwhelmingly heartfelt gratitude, get back on the phone with the RK to give the obligatory spiel about being a nice boy, listening to his friend's mom, and being polite, saying please and thank you and all that good stuff. Then I wish him a good night, and say I'll see him in the morning.

So around 9:00 this morning, he comes riding back on his bicycle and is getting ready to flop down on the couch for a nap (I guess he didn't get a whole lot of sleep while he was over there) when I make him go upstairs to take a shower and brush his teeth. It had already been way too many days since his last shower, and after spending the night without any clean clothes to wear or a toothbrush, I knew he'd feel a lot better if he got this one task over with. So now he's clean, in clean clothes, minty-fresh breath, asleep on the couch. Sweet baby boy...


That wasn't even the start of RK's holiday weekend festivities. Yesterday morning around 10:00, I get a call from the mom of another one of Justin's friends in the neighborhood, inviting him to go see the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie at 10:30. The RK is still asleep, so I go and get him waked up, dressed, teeth & hair brushed, and he gets to go have a great time at the movies with a good friend.


It does my heart so good to see that we're really making a life for ourselves here and making new, dear friends that live so close. I love this house.


Saturday night we BBQ'ed over at SH's house, and I contributed some beautiful mouth-watering country-style spare ribs. They ended up being totally yummy. So we sat out in their garage until around midnight talking, drinking and eating, while it rained.


I hate it when it rains on Memorial Day weekend. This is supposed to be the weekend to celebrate the beginning of summer! No rain, please! Today's forecast is beautiful, though...sunny and mid-70's. So hopefully we'll be able to enjoy it to its full potential.

Yesterday was also consumed with me avoiding anything having to do with the Indy 500 like the plague. I couldn't help but catch the scroll at the bottom of the screen on ESPN2 during tennis coverage, though, and learned that they had to stop the race for rain. I'm thinking, 'Great. If they get to restart the race, I'll have that much longer today to try to avoid it.' Last evening, though, I couldn't help but read some of the recaps. So I know who won.

While I didn't really let it slow me down too much, the fact that my husband was at the race without us, by choice, was constantly in the back of my mind. I tried to distract myself as much as possible without letting it get me down. But I am just so sad. And then SH expressed her thought that the least he could've done was to take the RK with him for a weekend of father-son bonding.

But this raises another question in my mind: did she go? I mean, he's made it perfectly clear that I've been replaced. He took her to the company Christmas party after I'd been to the previous eight. He's expressed to me on more than one occasion that if he had things his way, I'd just disappear from the picture and he'd have our kids, her, and her kids. In this house. Whatever. I mean, really...how can he have such non-feelings for me anymore? How did it get to where I mean so little to him when he means so much to me?

And I'm really wondering what's up with him not really making much of an effort to see his kids. We've had this thing worked out where he would come over here on Saturdays and Sunday and spend most of those days over here with the boys. But he hasn't done that in quite a while. I mean, he has been working his ass off during the month, but still...he seems to be perfectly content not seeing them. He took the RK to a movie last Sunday, but spent very little time with the IB. And he just dropped off the RK without coming in with him for a little while. He hasn't made any sort of effort to see them at any other time...evenings, or whatever. He really has said that his kids are the #1 priority, yet he demonstrates that they're not, every single day he leaves work and goes home to his homewrecking whore and her kids. It truly just makes me sick.

I've been having the feeling in the back of my mind, though, that his head is starting to build up pressure from the situation he's put himself in. His way of dealing with anythig negative in the past has been to just skirt around it and ignore it as long as possible. I believe that's exactly what he's done by walking out on us. He wasn't willing to dig down deep and face his issues and his demons head-on to fix this situation. I think it scares the shit out of him, and he's terrified of having to stare down his multitude of dysfunctions. So his solution is to just trade one set of problems for another. And he'll wind up in the same position with her that we were in when he first became an adulterer.

But I'm feeling like his life is getting to the point where his demons are getting so big that he's not going to be able to keep pushing them under the rug for much longer. I think that's why he hasn't been making too much of an effort to see his kids. I think the reality of what he's done is starting to catch up to him, and the guilt is making it to where it's starting to hurt to see his kids.

Of course, I could be totally wrong. The other side of me thinks he doesn't have one lick of a conscience, and that his growing absence in the lives of his children is due to him just not caring. I truly have no idea what could possibly going through his heart or his mind....I realize now that all these years we've been together, he's keep them securely locked away from even me.

OK...enough of this. Whoever's out there, thanks for reading. It does me good to get this stuff out of my head and into print. I hope y'all enjoy your Memorial Day today, and don't forget to take a moment or two to reflect on what this day is really supposed to be all about.

What a day!

I am just all atwitter right now...I just finished watching the season finale of Lost. Oh, how am I going to wait the whole summer???? From one episode to the next, this show has its ups and downs. But overall, as a series, it's just absolutely brilliant TV.

I've become somewhat of a TMZ.com addict, and every week, some guy named Daniel who works for TMZ, posts a minute by minute recap of each episode, throwing in his thoughts, theories and opinions as he goes. And he's got quite a following. And I have become one of the masses. He has decided that over the summer hiatus, he's going to continue his blog entries with the season one DVD's. I think I just might have to go along on this ride with him. This show is so complex, I could definitely use a refresher on stuff that I've completely forgotten about.

I got my maiden voyage into landscaping completed last evening! I planted some flowers in my Grecian urn planter, hung up a couple of hanging baskets on my porch, got my Mother's Day geranium into a planter, and got my mess cleaned up from planting the bushes. And the front of my house looks so much better! It's nothing award-winning, but it's not bare and plain-jane anymore. Yay me!

But now I'm in a bit of a pickle. Remember back on Monday when I was telling about getting my hostas planted? Allow me to quote: "But today, I got busy...I dug a lot of the concrete chunks and rocks out of it..." So where were was it all going? Into an extra empty large trash can that I had in the corner of my garage. And now I can't move the damn thing. The two wheels start to buckle when I get it tilted. So I thought I'd try it with the hand truck we bought during the move. Surely it would be tough enough to do this for me, right? Wrong! Its tires started buckling, too! I guess I'm gonna have to dig all that dirt back out and put it in a multitude of smaller containers. Or the same few containers over and over again...

You see, my plan is to sneak down to the lot down the block where there's a mountain of dirt that's been dug up for a basement, and make my own little donation. It's not going to be as easy as I was hoping, though.

Ya know, I think that last sentence pretty much sums it all up for home improvement projects, doesn't it? I've got to figure out what to do with all the sod I ripped up, too. The garbage company doesn't do yard waste.

I'll let you know how it goes.

I really wanted to get the lawn mowed yesterday, too, but decided against it, due to the forecast yesterday. 90+°!?!? So yesterday was work-on-the-inside-of-the-house day. My kitchen was such a mess... but not anymore! I got the mail cleaned off the end of the counter, washed all those gallderned baby bottles, ran the dishwasher (and emptied it, too...all in the same day! Holy crap!), and unburied the dining table from all of its junk. It feels really good to start getting my life in some sort of order. I'm really hoping that I can start streamlining my methods for maintaining a clean kitchen counter and dining table. That is the hardest thing for me...I'm so bad about using any raised horizontal surface to put stuff on to be dealt with later. And it just gets added to, and added to, and added to. Until said raised horizontal surface is completely buried. And it drives me absolutely crazy! Maybe we'll actually start dining at the dining table once again. Now there's a novel idea! Today I knocked a lot off of my 'must get done right away' list, but I still have quite a ways to go to feeling like I'm in control of this house and it's not controlling me.

After a day like yesterday, I'm starting to wonder, "What's gotten into me?" But the more I think about it, the question I should be asking is "What's getting out of me?" And the answer to that is, self-doubt, my defeatist attitude, my poor self-esteem, my lack of self-confidence. I guess I'm finally surrendering it all, and letting my sorry excuse of a husband take it all with him. He can go start dumping it all on her. Looking back on my marriage, it's so easy to see how I got into such a funk about what I'm capable of doing. He wasn't abusive, or anything (well, is there such a thing as 'emotional abuse?), but he definitely didn't portray a sense of belief in me, being proud of me, encouragement, or acceptance of me just the way I am, the good and the bad. His love was extremely conditional on my changing to be just the way he wanted. And I wouldn't cave to that. I wanted to make him so happy, but subconsciously I knew that I wouldn't be getting anything in return out of it. So I guess looking back on it now, what I was doing was waiting for some sign from him that he was willing to reciprocate. And it never came.

His idea of happiness is pretty whacked. And it's really quite sad. So until he acknowledges the fact that he's got so much to learn about living life and being happy, and decides he's got something to learn, my boys and I are much better off without him. I still have a little bit of hope that he'll see what he's walking away from and have a cathartic change of heart, but I've also been trying to prepare myself to move on without him.

I could keep going, but I'll spare you. I need to go get something productive done.

He just beats everything...

I just found a text from my idiot almost-ex-husband.

Fyi. Out of town this weekend.

Oh really? Hmmm....where could he possibly be going? Let's see...it's Memorial Day weekend....perhaps Indianapolis? For the Indy 500? One of my favorite things that we did together for so many years? I managed to survive knowing it was Pole Qualifying this past weekend, which is when we'd usually go to Indy to enjoy 500 festivities. But he and I have been to three Indy 500's together, the most recent being last year. With the RK. And my big ol' round belly. Some of my fondest memories from my marriage are at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. And it absolutely irritates the hell outta me that our shared memories aren't any more sacred to him like they are for me.

A little of the backstory... You see, he works for an engineering firm in the metro Detroit area that builds Indycar engines, among other things. He's one of the hands-on guys that actually assembles the engines. This is what he's been doing since I met him, way back in 1994. I didn't give a flyin' flip about auto racing until I met him. And I've grown to love the sport, and everything associated with it.

In 1996, after he and I had moved in together, the opportunity for him to take a job on an actual Indycar team came knocking. And I was the one that encouraged him to take the job, and assured him that I would be right there with him, by his side, supporting him all the way. As far as I'm concerned, that was when I married him. We only made it official a few months after having arrived in Indy, when I was six months pregnant. (Yes, I know...total white trash...nothing I can do about it now.) In fact, I was already pregnant when we moved, and we had no idea.

So the first two years of our marriage, he was traveling to every race. He usually wasn't gone for very long at a time...usually just the weekends. But once or twice a year, when the races were extremely international (Gold Coast, Australia; Motegi, Japan, etc.), he'd be gone for more than two weeks sometimes. And he never once heard a complaint outta me. I got the biggest thrill out of being able to turn on the TV on Sunday afternoons, cheer on the drivers for the team that he worked for, and desperately try to spot him in the pit alley during pit stops. He hated that job, though, given that he's not a very good air traveler. He always said that those two years on the race team took ten years off his life.

In Nov. 1998, he basically took a job doing the same exact thing he was doing back in Texas before joing the race team. In fact, just about everyone from there moved up here when the company they all worked for sort of restructured. So we were actually reunited with a bunch of our friends from home when we came here. And, the rest is history, as they say.

So anywho, I responded to his text. I held my tongue, though.

great. have fun at the race.

But I just couldn't leave it at that. And here's where I really held my tongue.

ya know, for saying that your kids are your #1 priority, you sure don't act like it.

Over the past four weeks or so, IH has spent a minimal amount of time with his kids. He has been working his usual insanely long hours for the month of May, and I don't fault him for that in the slightest. But it just seems to me that if his kids were as important to him as he proclaims they are, he'd rather spend some long-awaited quality time with them this weekend, now that his work schedule has settled down a bit.

And yes, it absolutely kills me that he's going to the race without me. I have always been his biggest fan. The sound that comes from those cars at that speedway is amazing...and I was always so proud of my husband that he created that. His profession has given me so many unbelievably exciting and special memories with him that I will always cherish. But now, they're all tainted with such a horrible sadness and regret.

My heart is so broken for him that he has such a messed up list of priorities, and that he has so blinded himself that he wouldn't know true love if it smacked him upside the head.

So be it.

Can you hold it down? Mommy's head hurts.

Oh my gosh, what a weekend! I'm so tired, I can hardly see straight. My body might be feeling the big hurt, but my soul has been refreshed.

The RK had a great time with his Cub Scout den on the submarine. He made it back around 1:00 on Saturday, just in time for us to go over to my best neighbor's house for her daughter's 2nd birthday party. They even rented an inflatable jumpy-house and set it up in the back yard. After the obligatory aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents left, it was just a handful of neighbors left over, and then the party really started. The beer started flowing, and the blender was blending with pina coladas, and we all sat out in the back yard with our chairs in a circle until at least midnight!

My neighbor has been so amazing to me. She has been through a nasty & painful divorce, and has truly become one of my dearest friends this past year. She has been a wonderful source of knowledge, advice, encouragement, and support. She lives diagonally across the street, and one thing I've always hated is that in the evenings, we're both at home alone with our kids. Her husband works nights, so it's like we're both single moms. That makes it really hard for us to spend any decent amount of time together...

We saved very few things from the RK's babyhood, but one thing we managed to hang on to was his old baby monitor. And I've been using it with the IB. Now I'm not a paranoid, hovering, smothering type mom. I don't really have an issue with leaving my baby at home in bed while I go visit with the neighbors. A week or so ago, I decided to see if this antiquated baby monitor would work across the street. And it didn't. In fact, I was picking up my neighbor's daughter's monitor! So I went back home, very bummed. So I decided that I was finally going to retire this monitor and buy a new one. I found one at Target that said it was digital (more secure - less potential from other monitors being able to eavesdrop), had fourteen different channels, and had an 'out of range' indicator on it. So that way I would know for sure if I wasn't able to hear the IB wake up. It said it has a 900ft. range, and I was a little nervous about that. But when the IB's bedtime rolled around, I took him back across the street, put him to bed just like any other night, and took the baby monitor back over there. And praise the Lord, it works!

So my point was that now maybe SH and I can spend more time together in the evenings after our kids are in bed! I don't have a single issue with leaving the RK over here in bed alone...he's a very responsible, mature child. And sometimes what we do is use our little walkie-talkies whenever he doesn't want to come over there with me. But now I feel so good knowing that I will know if the IB needs me while I'm over there.

I had so much fun last night, though. This is such a dream come true for me...hanging out with my awesome neighbors on gorgeous spring evenings in this beautiful neighborhood in which I actually own a house! That is going to take me a while to get used to...hopefully we'll be here long enough so that I can. I'm so terrified of not being able to stay here and having to sell.

One thought that entered my mind throughout the course of the evening was 'Look at what my IH is missing out on.' Ever since we moved to Michigan eight years ago, I have listened to him gripe, complain, moan and wail about how badly he wanted a house. And I quote, "I would just be happy if we had a house." I wonder how many times I heard him express that over the years. And his reasons were so wrong. We were the only people we knew that didn't own a house, and he was ashamed of that. He never wanted to invite anyone over. I tried to convince him that we were pretty lucky to have that crappy apartment...after all, it kept us warm, dry, and safe. But he just has no clue how to count his blessings, while still wanting and striving for better. It's really quite sad. So he got his house...and now he's chosen not to live in it! Wow...he must really hate me. And I didn't even do anything wrong. Well, I know I have my issues to work on when it comes to this marriage, but the amount of fault in this whole ugly mess is definitely on his side of the coin.

So anyway, I've been really dragging ass today. I just can't bounce back from nights like last night like I used to. I got quite a bit done today, to my surprise. I got most of the laundry done, and got the kitchen cleaned up. I had been planning on planting my burning bushes and hostas that I bought on Friday afternoon, but given that I have no clue what I'm doing when it comes to gardening/landscaping, the thought of venturing into that new frontier with a hangover was more than I could handle today. The weather is supposed to be gorgeous this week, so maybe I'll wheel the IB's playpen out onto the lawn while the RK is at school, and I'll try to get my thumb to turn green.