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.

The long hot summer

I hate it when this much time gets away from me between posts. I've been coming up with all kinds of things to talk about on here for the last three days, and now I feel like I'd be up all night long typing it all in here. What I can remember of it, anyway. Argh.

One thing I wanted to mention on Sunday afternoon was that amazing, amazing men's final at Wimbledon. Classic! Legendary! I've already mentioned how tennis fans all over the world right now are so blessed to have such a great rivalry for this particular era. And y'all know who I'm talking about: Roger Federer & Rafael Nadal. For the first time, Federer didn't wipe the court with Nadal in a steady, textbook, boring three sets. Nope, it took five. And two of those went into tiebreaks.

I found myself rooting for Federer. And afterwards, in reflection, I realized why. I'm not ready for Nadal to reach that goal yet. This rivalry is still a bit new, and I want the excitement and anticipation to build a little bit more. Let's keep Nadal winning on clay, and Federer winning on grass. It just seems that once one of them gets the upset, the denouement begins, and it just won't be as exciting as before.

This seems to be one of those healthy, friendly, rewarding rivalries. They're each other's toughest competition, always motivating and driving each other to improve their game. Thus, improving the entertainment value for us, the fans. It's so rare that these rivalries are born, and us sorry shmucks who get their jollies from watching the pros play rather than playing ourselves, benefit exorbitantly.

And as for the players themselves, twenty or thirty years from now, they're going to appreciate having had each other to keep driving and pushing the other ever closer to perfection. And they're going to look back on their extraordinary careers, and be thankful. And content.

OK...that's the end of my tennis soapbox soliloquy.

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We've been suffering in 90+ degree weather for the last couple of days, and my poor A/C has been coming on starting before noon. My poor flowers and burning bushes are in sad shape. I gave them a good dose of water and plant food tonight, so hopefully they'll perk back up. And I have no idea where they're coming from, but my house is overrun with flies. They are so nasty. As for me, I'm actually enjoying this heat. It reminds me of home. This would be considered a cold spell this time of year.

We haven't been going to the pool any, though, because the poor RK came home from his weekend with his dad with a horrible sunburn on his back. So he's not exactly in pool mood while his skin is in such pain. Thank God the IB obviously got slathered up with sunscreen. But I'm really quite miffed that the IH wasn't more on top of it with his elder child. And not only that, the IH broke one of the wheels on the IB's stroller. He called me yesterday to let me know that he's ordered a new wheel, and it'll get here in 7-10 days. Thankfully, I knew that SH recently got her two-year-old a new stroller, so she's letting me borrow the old one until the new wheel comes in.

The IH is taking the kids again this weekend, and then we're going to start our alternate weekends routine. I requested this from him because this will coordinate my weekend parenting schedule with that of another neighbor of mine, who has also recently gone through divorce. Her older son has the same name as the RK, and they've become quite good buddies. So this way, they'll be with their moms on the same weekends, and then their moms will both be free on the same weekends to accompany each other to various nightlife establishments. Which I'm so looking forward to. I love to see and be seen, and this past weekend just sitting at home really sucked. I almost decided to go out for a bit by myself, but decided I wasn't exactly in the mood to look quite that vulnerable.

All right, it's approaching 12:30, and I'm gonna cut this off here and go to bed. Nighty-night!

Trudging on

I feel like my summer is wasting away. It just hit me that it is now July. The excited anticipation that comes with June is done and gone.

We haven't even been to the local Dairy Queen yet. That must be remedied soon.

A while back, my neighbor two doors down had a gorgeous deck built and no longer had need for the little wooden steps that had previously been underneath his back door. So he came and knocked on my door and asked me if I wanted them. Of course!

So now we are able to use our back door to get out to the relative expanse of our back yard. With absolutely nothing in it. And I don't have any clue what to put back there to make it useable. I want a deck or patio so bad I can taste it, but definitely don't have the funds to make that happen.

The RK doesn't have much excitement for playing sports. At least with just his parents. I'd love to go throw the baseball with him and his years-old-but-still-brand-new hardly-used mitt, but he poopoos the idea. And the soccer ball. And the football (and yes, his mama could show him how to throw a pretty decent spiral).

We've spent the entire day indoors today. And it was an absolutely perfect day. The evening was gorgeous. I noticed those incredible thunderclouds building to the east, where they're dark and ominous on the bottom, and bright, white-pink and puffyfluffy all the way up to the top. I only stayed briefly to marvel, and did not even summon my children to come and enjoy it with me. That's what I mean when I say the summer is wasting away. I desperately hope and pray that wasn't my last opportunity for the season.

I'm not really in the mood to see and be seen. I had fun at the neighbor's last night, and I'm glad I went, but today, I just want to mope. So maybe that's why I'm sun-deprived today.

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I survived the 29 or so hours my kids were gone. It's so amazing to me how such small little bodies can fill up a house. It felt strange to only carry my cell phone up to bed with me and no baby monitor. But I have to admit, it felt amazing to sleep in past 10:00 the next morning!

I found out some very interesting information concerning the text exchange I relayed to y'all in my last post. And just like my inital reaction to the texts themselves, I don't really quite know what to make of this.

It was very out of character for the IH to utter such words of encouragement. I mean, throughout this whole ordeal, he has been totally incapable of saying anything...and I mean ANYTHING...nice, uplifting, or encouraging to me. He has expressed on numerous occasions, ever since this affair started, that he would be so happy if I decided to just go away and leave the kids with him. Seriously. I'm not exaggerating, I'm not embellishing, I'm not misconstruing.

I have never felt so worthless in all my life.

Hence my text to him about having someone else write those texts to me.

So Tuesday night, he comes and picks up the kids, and here I am, left all alone in this big empty house, not knowing what the hell to do with myself.

Soon after the IH drives off (in his less-than-24-hours hold brand new Nissan SUV), SH texts me to see if she can come hang out with me for a bit, and I say sure. We start talking about all this, and she says, "Trish, I have to level with you. I called [the IH] at work today."

After my meltdown the day before, she was pretty freaked, and bless her heart, she felt compelled to intervene on my behalf.

She said she thinks of me as family.

It's two days later, and even thinking about it now dampens my eyes.

The fact that she felt compelled to take this on herself and get involved to such an extent means the absolute world to me. Because I have no one else. No family. All of my neighbors are new friends of mine, and getting to that level of familiarity, intimacy, and willingness to involve oneself is a long, drawn-out, no-guarantees process.

I remember right after we brought the IB home from the NICU, SH came over to meet him. I told her how my mom was planning on cutting her trip short because my step-dad was making it sound like he was about to die with her gone. And I remember crying, saying, "Who do I have to go to the mat for me?" And that was one of the few times I've seen her cry. It's nice to know I have such a dear friend that will go to the mat for me. And I just hope that I'm able to fully express my appreciation and compensate her over the coming days, weeks, years.

Not reciprocate. Just compensate.

OK...that's enough. I've got to stop thinking about it. I don't want to get dragged down again. At least not like Monday. I'm doing much better right now, but still not too motivated. Just don't want to make it any worse. This fragility is driving me crazy. I hate this. Again...what a waste of these days of my life.

So the boys seemed to do just fine at the love shack. I'm glad to get that initial send-off behind me. The IH is taking the kids again for the weekend. Oh Lord...two whole nights without my babies! What a hodgepodge of emotions...excitement for getting to hang up my responsibility for a while, yet the hole that comes with their absence. Not to mention the worry about the atmosphere around there that they're entering into.

Oh, how I loved seeing that precious little toothy grin last night when the IB leaned into my arms!

To end this post on a happy note-
Last night while we were all gathered to watch the fireworks show behind the neighbors' houses across the street, I got to chatting with my next-door neighbor. Here's what he said to me: "You know J's cousin? The one who helped him bring those steps over to your back door? He's got such a crush on you."

I don't really even remember what he looks like, even though I think I might've been introduced to him while walking by one day a few weeks ago. How cool, though. Does my self-image a world of good.

So here we go...

I never did respond to the IH's text from Saturday. So here's a transcript of sorts of our texts today:

IH (10:09 AM): would like to pick up the boys after work so we can have the day together for tomorrow
(11:39 AM): i know this is difficult. Everything well [sic] work out and the kids will be fine. you are the best mom to those kids. They will look forward to being back with
(11:44 AM): you. i know your [sic] a strong person when you have to be. you are doing such a great job with them. It will be ok.
( 11:56 AM): please reply. Need to know if you're ok.

Me (11:59 AM): who did you get to write that for you? i will not be packing [the IB]'s food. you can provide that when you have him. what time?
(12:00 PM): no, i'm not catatonic yet. sorry to disappoint you.

IH (12:05 PM): thank you for responding. i know it's hard to believe but I do care about how your [sic] doing. Not completely heartless. Around six is when i can be there.

Curiouser and curiouser...

I just don't know what to make of this. Maybe what happened Thursday has finally started to chip away at the ten-foot thick titanium walls around his pathetic little shriveled up heart.

I won't be holding my breath, though.

Now I'm gonna try to get this house cleaned up and get some laundry done before he gets here.

Seeking relief

Oh, I've found myself this afternoon just all tied up in knots. I am such an emotional wreck. I just want to go crawl into bed and pull the covers up over my head and be alone. The IB's taking a nap right now, and I know that won't last as long as I would like. He'll be needing his mommy all too soon, and I just don't feel up to trying to force myself to be the loving, attentive, happy mommy he needs and deserves. But I'll do it, because I have to. And because I love that sweet little thing so much. And because I know that while it's hard to imagine being able to summon the strength I need for him, it always ends up being easier than I thought once I see that beautiful little smile.

The house is still a mess. I just can't seem to summon the determination I need to tackle it. And it's hanging around my neck like that good ol' literary albatross.

The IH wants to take the kids for July 4th. To the homewrecker's sister's house (she and her two kids became very close friends of mine as well, and I haven't seen them since Christmas 2005) for a BBQ and fireworks. He told me his plans via a text message sent on Saturday, and I haven't responded yet. I know I need to give my approval, but I'm having such a hard time uttering the words.

I hope it's an awkward day, at best. Well, only for the grown-ups. I want my absence to hang over them like the blackest, thickest, most suffocating cloud of WRONG ever felt.

And for the RK, well, I just don't know. I'm happy that he's excited to see his old friend again. And for his sake, I am a tiny bit relieved that I have given in. I hated being such a huge source of discontent with him. Even though he won't be able to understand why I had this position until he's much, much older.

But not knowing how this will play out has me messed up. And not knowing if he'll ultimately have to go through this all again, giving up this friendship for the pathetic reason of the adults not being able to act like adults. Again.

Does this mean I have to start letting this little boy come over for playdates, or will I yet again be a source of unfair discontent when I inform the RK that he will only be able to see this friend while he's with his dad? It's not fair for him to have a friend only when he's with his dad. But right now I just can't stand the idea of having any part of that section of my past anywhere around my present. And I can't stand the thought that it might hurt the RK in any way.

Oh, I just want that part of his life to be done and over with. In the past. Let's please move on. Why must I continue to be tortured by this evil, selfish woman and what she did to me? And to the RK?

Why must I be the one to summon the superhuman strength to make up for the disgraceful weaknesses of my Idiot Husband and the Homewrecking Whore? It just seems impossible to continually be 'the bigger person' and remain objective; always, without fail, doing what's best for the sakes of my babies. And what makes this even harder is that I'm not exactly sure this is the right thing.

This haunts me. Teases me. Tortures me. Paralyzes me. I desperately want this pit in my stomach to go away. I am so tired of it.

I desperately want something to be happy about. To rejoice in. To celebrate. I am so tired of being sad. Angry. Hurt. Destroyed. I'm wasting valuable time feeling like this, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I have no control over it. It has taken control of me. And I HATE that.

I'm trying to focus on the opportunity I'll have to not be responsible for my kids for a little while. I desperately need a break from them. Just some time to myself without a birthday party looming over me. Just nothing. No kids. Nothing. Being able to do whatever I want.

OK...that's all. I need to pull myself together. Hopefully spilling some of this out will help.

Thanks for listening, guys.

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.

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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.

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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.

Caution: Nuclear meltdown imminent

Boy, I'm really wishing right now I had nothing else to do but loll around the house and watch tennis. England's best hope for a Wimbledon title (and really, he's not anymore, but the fans still love him), Tim Henman, is battling back from losing his first two sets in tiebreaks. He's won the third set, and is way ahead in the fourth. I love tennis. This one's heading to a fifth set, and I can't sit and watch it! DAMMIT!

I hate having the weight of the world on my shoulders. Summer's supposed to be for no worries, lazy days, the only priority being what time to head to the pool. Instead, I'm freaking out about my divorce, my kids' wellbeing in the mess of it, and worrying about what's going to happen in the future.

Curse that man.

I did get a big piece of good news this morning when the guy from the property management company called me, and when I asked him if I could get into the clubhouse tonight to start decorating and setting up, he said sure, after the sales office closes. Yippee!!! That's huge for me...frees up a lot of my day tomorrow before the party.

I so shouldn't be sitting here. I've got so many other things to do before this conference. Like shower. I stink. Or as I would say to the IB, "I'm tinky!" And I need to go get the IB's diaper bag stocked and ready to go.

Off I go...

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!

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!

The heroism of fatherhood

As I've mentioned before, I keep up with Midland's newspaper's website on a fairly regular basis. So just now I was perusing the headlines, and came across this commentary:

For Father's Day all I want is for my kids to see me
By Mike Goeke
06/11/2007

A friend of mine recently referred to his missionary dad as his "hero." As I creep into my 40s, being a hero to my kids holds more allure, and the legacy of my life seems to take on more value to me. I wondered what it would take to be a hero to my kids. What would they say about me at my funeral?

To be honest, great financial success has never motivated me, and I don't care to leave a legacy of material things. So in my mind I crafted a legacy. I decided that I want my kids to see me walking in obedience to God. I want them to see me serving the church, and serving other people. I want them to see me taking spiritual risks, and living the life of a true disciple of Christ. But as I was thinking of all the things I want my kids to see me doing, something very important literally flooded my thoughts and washed over my heart, soul and mind.

More than any of those things, I realized that I just want my kids to see me. I want them to see me at their sporting events. I want them to see me at their school programs. I want them to see me at breakfast and at supper. I want them to see me crouched behind a baseball glove or sitting at a tea party, drinking imaginary tea and eating plastic doughnuts. I want them to see me at their desks, working through math problems. I want them to see me on the side of their bed, praying with them at night. I want them to see me with arms open wide to comfort them or to welcome them home. I want them to see me caring when they are scared or sad. I want them to see me jumping across the trampoline from them, and running behind their bike as they learn to ride without training wheels. I want them to see me with my own Dixie cup full of popcorn, watching the DVD du jour. I want them to see me smiling when I walk in the door and I want them to see me groggy as they tap on my forehead to wake me up in the morning. I want them to see me cry and to see me laugh. I want them to see me make mistakes. I want them to see me loving their mommy, and laughing with their mommy, and kissing their mommy, and saying "I'm sorry" to their mommy. I want them to see me.

Yes, I want them to see me doing great things for God and living out the call on my life with honor. But at the end of the day, even those very good things probably don't matter if, in the process, they never saw me. I think I will quit worrying about my kids seeing me as a hero, and work harder to make sure that they simply see me.

Mr. Goeke's children are so very blessed! He's got it. He knows what life is all about, and how to find the joy that everyday has in store.

This just makes the biggest pain well up in my heart that I can't even describe.

My heart is shattered that my precious boys don't have a father as such. I am so proud of my kids, and even though it turns out they got dealt a rotten hand in the paternal department, they wouldn't be who they are if their father were anyone else. But how horrendously sad is it that the man who is so blessed to have such gorgeous children is so oblivious to the fact? It makes me so mad that I didn't have the insight into what he would be capable of. But I realize I'm not superhuman, and ultimately, the fault lies with him, and him only. He is going to miss out on so much of the joy his children can bring to his life. So be it for him, but what really breaks my heart is that they too will be missing out, and through absolutely no fault of their own. While I realize I alone can't fill the enormous void that their father's absence creates, this consumes me with motivation to continually work towards being everything these babies deserve in their mother and make sure they grow up with the same consuming desire to someday be the best fathers they can be. I desperately want them to have a full understanding that their children are the most precious gifts God can bless their lives with.

I pray that God has someone else in store for me that will be willing to take on the role for these kids that their dad is walking away from. Someone to demonstrate this level of integrity. Of gratitude. How to count their blessings. How to find joy in the little things they come across every single day.

I pray that there is a man out there who someday will eagerly step up to fill this void that I will never be able to fill all on my own, and be the father these kids deserve.

In spite of not sharing their genes.

Now that is a rare man, indeed, and in my eyes, there is truly no better use of the word 'hero.'

IT'S SUMMER!!!

And thus concludes the first weekday of summer vacation.

Aaaaahhhhh.....

I feel like I just got done cleaning out my locker, throwing away all my old papers, folders, etc., turning in my textbooks...

But wait...I'm 34!

I have a tendency to throw out the rules when this time of year rolls around. Or at least set them just out of reach. On boring ol' nights like tonight, I think I'm gonna try to get the RK into bed at least by 10:00. But there's always the option of him watching a movie, especially if it's a night where he gets to sleep in my bed. It doesn't matter...it's summer!

I didn't get the IB to bed until after 9:00. I didn't put him down for his second nap until 5:00, and didn't get him up until 7:00. So right there I knew he wasn't going to bed at 8:00.

After dinner, we all went on a walk around our neighborhood. And of course, I ran into people to chat with. Not until towards the end, though. By the time we got home, it was pushing 9:00, and since I had sprayed bug spray on the IB, I wanted to give him a bath before I put him to bed. So actually, it was probably 9:30 by the time he went down. But that's OK...it's summer!

The RK and I had the best dinner tonight. A while back, I clipped a Campbell's Soup recipe out of a magazine, and tonight ended up being the night to try it out. Nothing fancy...one of those chicken and rice conglomerations. The two of us thoroughly enjoyed it, and we decided it must go into my dinner rotation. Again...it's nothing gourmet, or even slightly difficult, but it definitely falls into the category of comfort food. And fresh steamed asparagus to go with it...yum.

I don't exactly know what to do with myself tonight. Now that the TV season is over, my schedule's a bit wide open. Maybe I'll go grab my iPod and park my butt in the garage or on the porch for a while. But not until I finally import some CD's onto it!

I really wish I was talking with The Guy right now. I'm starting to realize that striking up a relationship is going to be quite difficult, and that bums me out bigtime. I'm really confused about how I want to handle this with my kids. Ideally, I'd like for them (and by 'them,' I basically mean the RK since IB is oblivious...but still...) to not even know he exists until I can be for sure it's going somewhere. But with my current parental arrangement, that being I have the kids all the time, this seems near impossible. I've thought about doing the 'host-a-bbq' thing, and that way The Guy won't stand out as anyone special with others around. And that's still a possibility on the weekends he has his own kids. But really, what I want is a big, huge chunk of one-on-one time where we can just pick each other's brains 'til we're blue in the face.

We have been chatting on the phone...30 minutes yesterday, and a couple of other times over the weekend, but those times not for as long, and it's going so well. I remember last night when we hung up, I felt a little disappointed that I'd have to wait a long time to talk with him again. I couldn't anticipate another call for quite a while. And one of the last things he said to me was, "OK then...I'll call you again. It is alright if I call you, isn't it?" I told him absolutely. So I've been hoping to hear my phone ring tonight. And I'm such a wuss. I'm so afraid of calling him and waking him up, or whatever. So here I am sitting at this dumb computer. Making the likelihood of my calling him tonight dimmer and dimmer.

Another thought I've had is I wonder if he'd be willing to just pop over and hang out in my garage with me some night after I've gotten the kids to bed. But I can see that going way too late, and he'd feel like crap the next day at work because of me.

Ya know what I thought of for our perfect first date? A Tigers game. That would be so cool.

I'm still standing firm about the IH not doing his parenting time with the homewrecking ho-bag and her kids. It doesn't look I'll win, but I'm still trying to appeal to his better judgment that it would be nothing but harmful to the RK. And he's really proving why I have every right to call him 'idiot.' He freely admits he just doesn't get that. I told him that's where a conscience would come in handy. I've got so much more to talk about regarding him and what transpired over th weekend...but I'm saving it for a future post.

I'd rather think and talk about The Guy.

Anyway, my point of that last paragraph was that I am starting to cave a nanometer on this position. Now that I have a potential dating opportunity, it sure would be nice to have every other weekend to myself. But I'm not going to be selfish like the IH...my kids' wellbeing comes first, and if that makes it too difficult for this to work with The Guy, then so be it. Hopefully we'll end up being so into each other that it'll be worth the trouble.

Only time will tell...

So what am I supposed to do now?

My day just got blown out of the water. I had been chatting with my neighbors last night, and started formulating a plan to BBQ tonight. You see, my diabolical plan included inviting The Guy over to hang out with my neighbors and me, making the situation much less intimidating. There's strength in numbers, ya know. Well, it turns out he's got yet another wedding to go to tonight, so he wouldn't be coming. So let's BBQ anyway. It should be fun. Then I get a call this morning from one of my neighbors, saying they're just gonna stay home since their niece is gonna be there and they don't want her to be bored. So scrap the BBQ idea, at least for this weekend.

I woke up this morning planning my whole day around it. And now I don't know what I'm gonna do today. The RK spent the night at another neighbor's house, and he's not home yet. And then he's supposed to have another neighborhood friend come over to spend the night here tonight. So I'm thinking maybe I'll go and get some grocery shopping done, perhaps, and maybe a run over to the local Babies R Us to pick up some babyproofing paraphernalia. The IB is just about ready to take off on hands and knees, and I haven't yet done any babyproofing around the house. My garage could use a good sweeping and straightening-up as well.

And there's always housework to be done. This frustrates me. I'm starting to realize that it is logistically impossible for me to have a 100% clean house at any given time. There's just no way I can't get the whole house clean at the same time. Argh. And thus far, I'm worrying more about my downstairs than my upstairs.

No matter how messy the rest of my house is, I always feel like I'm on top of the task if my kitchen is clean. I know...weird.

The IB is laying on his back right now under his swing, pushing it back and forth with his feet and just cackling and squealing up a storm. It just doesn't get any more precious than that. I experience the feeling of loving him so much I feel like I'm about to explode many, many times a day. Right now is one of those times. I so wish I could tell him to enjoy these days while he can. With no worries, the most important things for him are getting his tummy filled, getting played with, getting a new diaper from time to time. His life right now is so simple, and he has no choice but to love it and have a great attitude about it. How I wish I could convey to him that it doesn't get any better than this, and in actuality, really takes a ride downhill. I realize what a beautiful little blank slate I have to work with, and I don't want to screw up the opportunity I still have with him to instill in him an optimistic love of life, even when things aren't going so great. And I hope that even though I don't have his father around to really partner with me in this goal, I can accomplish it on my own.

Come to think of it, it should actually be easier without the IH around. His outlook on life is truly tragic.

This baby has such a beautiful smile. He smiles with his eyes, not just his lips. What a beautiful soul encased in such a sweet little body.

How his father is missing out.
It's heartbreaking.

The RK just got home! How I miss him when he's not here at night. I'm so glad to have my firstborn back home with his mom who adores him so.

OK...enough of that. I'm gonna go figure out how to make this day productive. Happy weekending!

Blahby blahby blah...

I have so much I need to do today. I'm gonna try to get the upstairs bathrooms tackled. They're funky. Nasty. Totally gross. Gag me with a spoon.

I still haven't gotten out onto the lawn to get it fertilized and watered yet, either. I took the weedwhacker out and 'cut' the grass that actually has been growing, and I think the proper term for that is 'hack job.' Pretty bad. But, I think it really looks better than it did.

When the IB and I got home from walking the RK to the bus stop this morning, I noticed that my right front tire is completely, totally flat. It's a good thing I don't really have anywhere to go today...I'll figure out how to get the spare on it sometime today. (Ya know, that's one thing I love about my car. I drive a 2004 Honda CR-V, which means I have a full-sized spare that rides on the back. No puny little donut.)

So SH called me yesterday morning as the IB and I were leaving his occupational therapy session. She had had an appointment to get her cast removed from her arm to X-Ray it and see how it has been healing. (Remind me to tell you about how that happened.) She said that it hasn't been healing, and she was really bummed. Pissed. Irate. She said she was going to take the rest of the day off, needed a little retail therapy, did I want to come. I said sure, even though I was so totally exhausted from the holiday weekend. So we shlepped up to the outlet mall for the afternoon, and I spent around $200 on clothes for the kids, mostly. A little for me. I need shorts, desperately. This divorce has caused me to shrink down three sizes from what I was before I got pregnant, so all the clothes I have are WAY too big for me. So now I'm trying to create a new wardrobe for my much smaller body.

I'd have to say that this is the coolest thing about this divorce. I love being a size 4. I hope I can keep it this way.

I also got an outfit to wear to a wedding reception this Friday night. SH's old friend from high school is getting married, and while we can't go to the wedding itself, we're gonna go party like it's 1999. Her hubby flat-out said he didn't want to go the day the invitation came in the mail, so SH and I have been planning on me being her date for quite a while! I'm excited...it should be a lot of fun. SH says it's gonna be a trailer park reunion. It should be entertaining, if nothing else.

I asked the IH to come babysit for me Friday. I'm very apprehensive about this. I don't trust him. He's demonstrated that he has absolutely no respect for me, even as the mother of his children. I don't feel very comfortable leaving him alone in the house. I wouldn't put it past him to snoop through all my stuff, or even after I'm gone, invite her over. I'm gonna make sure my neighbors keep an eye on the house while I'm gone. I can't stand the thought of her even setting foot in this house.

OK...I need to get off this contraption and go do something productive. Like clean the bathrooms. And get my bank accounts and credit cards reconciled. After yesterday, I need to figure out where I am on my balances and stuff.

Ouch. I don't wanna know.