In my lifetime, I have found it an extremely high compliment when a person has told me they would like to see me with their son. It is truly a great vote of confidence. This weekend we went to stay with Kyle's paternal grandmother and her new husband in Fallbrook. Both she and her man, Dick, are easy and fun hosts.
We arrived at about 5:30 on Friday, just in time for dinner. She had just had a bridge party. (Ah, bridge, another thing I don't know how to do. What will I do if I ever end up in a retirement community? I don't play bridge or golf or mah-jongg or tennis or cribbage or gin rummy. I'll be an absolute outcast!) Even before we ate she told me I should date her son. "Why don't you start dating Jack?" (Again, is this not obvious to everyone? Date the father of the young man my daughter will probably marry? And if it doesn't work out? Have uncomfortable family get-togethers for hmmmmmmm.....the next forty years?) She did make Jack sound like a good guy though. She said he's a good dancer, he's fun (I already know that), he's handsome, intelligent, very gregarious, and (this one was almost a deal-maker) he'd never embarrass me. Someone must have given her the 411 on Bill. Fortunately, Kyle was there saying, "AWKWARD!" over and over. Kyle later pulled me aside and said, "Just watch. She's going to fix you up with one of her friends. And he'll be rich."
By the next morning things had changed. I attribute that to one of three possibilities. She changed her mind when she found out either 1) how old I am, 2)she finally 'got' the awkward part or 3)she doesn't want her son dating a Democrat.
She was telling me about a friend of hers who lives near us. He's in great shape, loves to travel, is active and has lots of money. Honestly, seriously, honestly, I have never dated a man with money and, quite frankly, think it would take me some time to get used to dating a man who would pay for everything. How do you say 'thank you'? It's just really tough for me. I am used to either paying for everything or paying for myself. I find it difficult to get used to being taken out. I hear there are men who take women on trips. My online-dating-maven friend has a new boyfriend who is taking her on a trip next weekend. That seems like a dream. Grandma, aka Tootsie, took my number and is going to give it to her friend. Being that he went to high school with Jack's dad, I think he's a wee bit older than I. Another adventure? Am I ready to try a date again?
On Sunday Toots and I had a heart-to-heart. We talked about her exes, Jack and his exes, divorce, her new husband, her happiness, dating, etc. She says she has a feeling good things are going to happen to me. I appreciate her support and kindness. I hope I can return it. Her one piece of advice: don't talk about my ex when I'm on a date. I already knew that one.
There was one thing we discussed, a question she asked me, that has given me food for thought. She said that Jack's dad left her with 3 teenagers when she was 39. He moved into an apartment in the Marina, started wearing his shirts unbuttoned with lots of gold chains, and dating younger women. Back in the 70's, we used to call guys like like that 'schlubs'. She said she was angry with him for years. I can only imagine. She asked me if I was angry with Bill for what he has done to me. My answer? yes/no. That's my answer. It's both yes and no. But mostly, I told her I was so happy with my freedom from him, that it overrides any anger I have. And he has a mental illness that, absent the side effects of the chemo, would have stayed somewhat manageable but not ever comfortable or predictable. Yeah, I have a little anger, but anger was something Bill liked. He liked to see me off-balance, as if it created intrigue and excitement in the marriage. It didn't. It created strife and tension, and lack of trust.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
But Wait!, There's More!
Laura and Kyle went to the desert for a golf tournament and a little respite. I stayed home because I didn't want to impose on their friends and I had a Silent Auction to attend for school.
Dressing for the Silent Auction, I remembered that I went to last year's Silent Auction the first weekend after Bill had asked for a divorce. I wore the blue dress I had worn to my high school reunion. I felt pretty but lonely. I attended scads of functions without Bill during the marriage and even though there were times I didn't want to go alone, I never felt lonely. This year I wore another dress I thought looked very pretty, one I had bought several months ago but hadn't had the chance to wear yet. In fact, I thought I looked great, even better than last year. Did I feel lonely this year? No. But I felt 'alone'. Distinctly alone. The evening was another reminder that it has been a year since this craziness started.
Not knowing how my finances are for the summer, I didn't bid on many items. There was great food and wine. I enjoyed them, and the company. I knew just about everyone there. Despite bidding on only four items, I ended up getting three of them and wondering, once again, how I managed to spend so much at a silent auction when I thought I was holding back. I think those silent auction folks must perk up when they see me coming. I got a basket of Starbucks goods, a basket to put on the front of a bike (I bought it for Laura so she could ride with her little purse dogs in it), and ------ta-da----le piece de resistance------a gargantuan margarita basket with four kinds of Jose Cuervo, shakers, shots glasses, mix, lemons, limes, etc. Since the lemons and limes won't last until my birthday, I thought I'd have a margarita party soon. Might be fun. Probably not something to invite the Bible study girls for.
As I was at the auction, I got a text message from Kyle, then another from Laura. Kyle's grandmother in Rancho Mirage just died. This is rough stuff. Kyle was released into her care in December 08 but had to move out when his mother showed up to live there. He cannot be with his mother because she had been negligent thus giving him abandonment issues, and it hurt him when his grandmother let her stay. But Grandma was a mother and this was her first-born, had metastatic lung cancer and wasn't given long to live then. She lasted a lot longer than anyone thought she would but we didn't realize the end was coming right now. The hard thing will be not only grieving her passing but dealing with unresolved issues and the autistic uncle and widower she leaves behind. Laura liked this grandma and it makes a double whammy for her for this week.
Is Bill comforting her? She's out in his neck of the woods now, is he there for her? Will she be able to get some emotional support from her father during this time? Has she felt comfortable enough to tell him about the miscarriage? He knew Kyle's grandma. They had cancer and gambling addiction in common, and she had given him a few weekends at the resort where she got a lot of comps. I hope he can do his parental duty and comfort his only child at this time.
Dressing for the Silent Auction, I remembered that I went to last year's Silent Auction the first weekend after Bill had asked for a divorce. I wore the blue dress I had worn to my high school reunion. I felt pretty but lonely. I attended scads of functions without Bill during the marriage and even though there were times I didn't want to go alone, I never felt lonely. This year I wore another dress I thought looked very pretty, one I had bought several months ago but hadn't had the chance to wear yet. In fact, I thought I looked great, even better than last year. Did I feel lonely this year? No. But I felt 'alone'. Distinctly alone. The evening was another reminder that it has been a year since this craziness started.
Not knowing how my finances are for the summer, I didn't bid on many items. There was great food and wine. I enjoyed them, and the company. I knew just about everyone there. Despite bidding on only four items, I ended up getting three of them and wondering, once again, how I managed to spend so much at a silent auction when I thought I was holding back. I think those silent auction folks must perk up when they see me coming. I got a basket of Starbucks goods, a basket to put on the front of a bike (I bought it for Laura so she could ride with her little purse dogs in it), and ------ta-da----le piece de resistance------a gargantuan margarita basket with four kinds of Jose Cuervo, shakers, shots glasses, mix, lemons, limes, etc. Since the lemons and limes won't last until my birthday, I thought I'd have a margarita party soon. Might be fun. Probably not something to invite the Bible study girls for.
As I was at the auction, I got a text message from Kyle, then another from Laura. Kyle's grandmother in Rancho Mirage just died. This is rough stuff. Kyle was released into her care in December 08 but had to move out when his mother showed up to live there. He cannot be with his mother because she had been negligent thus giving him abandonment issues, and it hurt him when his grandmother let her stay. But Grandma was a mother and this was her first-born, had metastatic lung cancer and wasn't given long to live then. She lasted a lot longer than anyone thought she would but we didn't realize the end was coming right now. The hard thing will be not only grieving her passing but dealing with unresolved issues and the autistic uncle and widower she leaves behind. Laura liked this grandma and it makes a double whammy for her for this week.
Is Bill comforting her? She's out in his neck of the woods now, is he there for her? Will she be able to get some emotional support from her father during this time? Has she felt comfortable enough to tell him about the miscarriage? He knew Kyle's grandma. They had cancer and gambling addiction in common, and she had given him a few weekends at the resort where she got a lot of comps. I hope he can do his parental duty and comfort his only child at this time.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Pitbulls/ Parolees
Today I got a call from a strange number while I was at work. I ignored it but the caller did leave a message. When I listened to it later, it was from a woman who had been Kyle's hmmmmmm....what's the euphemism for parole officer? She is also Kyle's biggest fan. And why shouldn't she be? How often does she get someone assigned to her who really wants to clean up his life? How often does she get someone who doesn't beat his girlfriend or want to be a knucklehead anymore? She is so fond of him that she pushed for his early release with honors and recommended him for state parolee of the year. These things can sound like dubious distinctions, mixed blessings, honor in a world of dishonor. We joked a while back: How do you brag about being Parolee of the Year? But that would be measuring Kyle by outside standards and not comparing him to himself and the remarkable person he has become. I live with him day in and day out. I know his foibles, his pecadillos, his bad habits. He is messy. He puts things down and doesn't remember where. He leaves his tools out in the rain. He drives my car and forgets to take the keys out of his pocket. He doesn't understand time management extremely well, and thinks it takes less time to say, build a duplex doghouse with hinged doors, a shingled roof and locking doors, than it really does. But the big things---true remorse for past behavior, honesty, hard work, life goals, commitment, how he treats people----are all in the right place. This is how he should be measured, and by those standards, he has overcome volumes of adversity.
So why, if he has been honorably discharged from the system, is the former parole officer calling?
There is a TV show called---yep, that's right-----Pitbulls and Parolees. It is broadcast on one of the cable networks, and the kids used to record and watch it when they lived in the desert. A woman up in the mountains north of the city has a pitbull rescue ranch. She is a very thorough, organized, strong, and no-nonsense person. She hires parolees to work on the ranch and, as a result, they are half of the topic of the TV show. The parole officer had been contacted by the show for referrals. She said in her message to me that she had spoken to Kyle about interviewing for the show but he hadn't told her whether or not he was going to go to his interview at 2 that afternoon. She said he could skip the preliminary interviews and go right to meeting with the producers.
Kyle had already planned on attending the interview. When he got there, someone asked his name. When he answered, another parolee in the waiting room said, "Are you -----? I heard all about you at camp!" Yep, he's a legend at camp. This kid had arrived after Kyle had left. Kyle had been a fire line crew leader and had risen to the highest position allowed. This young man told Kyle his replacement hadn't had the same leadership qualities as Kyle and his crew fell apart a few months later. Kyle admitted it had been a hard crew to run but he was a bit surprised that his name was still being used at camp after he had left.
He said there were some scary-looking guys at the interview---ones with lots of teardrops going down their cheeks and tattoos all over their bodies, probably the homemade kind. The producers said they thought the ranch owner would love Kyle.
So now we start with the jokes about Kyle being a TV star. It would actually be a job at the ranch. The broadcasts are incidental. But Kyle has a strong and likable personality. At 6'5" he's strikingly tall and he is people-oriented. I think the cameras will take to him. So we joke about the show morphing to 'Kyle's Canines', 'Carmi and Kyle's Special K9's' or 'Kyle's Excellent K9 Adventure'.
The next conversation, though, was about whether or not the pay and the commute to the ranch would be worth it. He would have to give up unemployment and the commute is long. Gas alone would be pricey, even if he drove the CNG Civic. And what if he didn't like the job? Even though he loves animals, it sounds like there are a lot rules at the ranch. I'm not saying he can't follow rules. He can. But if it's over-regimented because of the nature of the 'employees' pasts, it might be too unpleasant. And then there would be his co-workers.......
So why, if he has been honorably discharged from the system, is the former parole officer calling?
There is a TV show called---yep, that's right-----Pitbulls and Parolees. It is broadcast on one of the cable networks, and the kids used to record and watch it when they lived in the desert. A woman up in the mountains north of the city has a pitbull rescue ranch. She is a very thorough, organized, strong, and no-nonsense person. She hires parolees to work on the ranch and, as a result, they are half of the topic of the TV show. The parole officer had been contacted by the show for referrals. She said in her message to me that she had spoken to Kyle about interviewing for the show but he hadn't told her whether or not he was going to go to his interview at 2 that afternoon. She said he could skip the preliminary interviews and go right to meeting with the producers.
Kyle had already planned on attending the interview. When he got there, someone asked his name. When he answered, another parolee in the waiting room said, "Are you -----? I heard all about you at camp!" Yep, he's a legend at camp. This kid had arrived after Kyle had left. Kyle had been a fire line crew leader and had risen to the highest position allowed. This young man told Kyle his replacement hadn't had the same leadership qualities as Kyle and his crew fell apart a few months later. Kyle admitted it had been a hard crew to run but he was a bit surprised that his name was still being used at camp after he had left.
He said there were some scary-looking guys at the interview---ones with lots of teardrops going down their cheeks and tattoos all over their bodies, probably the homemade kind. The producers said they thought the ranch owner would love Kyle.
So now we start with the jokes about Kyle being a TV star. It would actually be a job at the ranch. The broadcasts are incidental. But Kyle has a strong and likable personality. At 6'5" he's strikingly tall and he is people-oriented. I think the cameras will take to him. So we joke about the show morphing to 'Kyle's Canines', 'Carmi and Kyle's Special K9's' or 'Kyle's Excellent K9 Adventure'.
The next conversation, though, was about whether or not the pay and the commute to the ranch would be worth it. He would have to give up unemployment and the commute is long. Gas alone would be pricey, even if he drove the CNG Civic. And what if he didn't like the job? Even though he loves animals, it sounds like there are a lot rules at the ranch. I'm not saying he can't follow rules. He can. But if it's over-regimented because of the nature of the 'employees' pasts, it might be too unpleasant. And then there would be his co-workers.......
Friday, May 13, 2011
Ugh
Oh, s*#+! Dad is telling Carmi that he and his boyfriend don't have *sex* but could the relief caregiver sleep in the second bedroom tomorrow night? Has he forgotten that I'll be here? Please don't make me say 'no, your boyfriend can't have a sleepover'. I feel queasy. And all afternoon he has been obsessing over how to make instant pudding. He wanted to know if I could spend from 10am to noon tomorrow making instant pudding for him ---- or if I could teach him. This pudding talk went on for a long time. He overplans. I don't. We're a really bad match that way. That and the cleanliness.
He's gotten up out of bed, after having been in it for two hours. He's still going on about the pudding......And the sleeping arrangements. Lord, give me a break. I want to bust out. It's only now that I sit and reflect on my day and the verdict is: it wasn't such a good one.
This morning my principal questioned me about a couple of things I did recently. Hmmmm.....for one he actually said, "Don't do that again." Nicely. But it doesn't feel good that my principal doesn't agree with a professional decision I made. oh, well.....that's happened more than once over the last thirty-six years. And I'm not so sure he knew the whole story. But he's the boss. And he's a pretty good one.
I wore my Sanuks and a summery outfit to school. As I was driving west to work, the clouds and fog started rolling in.
I am the grade level leader and we were to meet for an hour and a half this morning, but with two out of four teachers having subs, it's not worth it to do any long-range planning or professional development. So we talked about Open House and testing. I worry we won't hit the ground running next year because we won't have done our advance-planning. That's why I had gone to the principal this morning. I needed to know if my vision for the team for the remainder of this school year was going to be okay.
The kids were a bit wild but did a great job being hosts to the visiting preschool class, choosing partners and showing the little ones everything in the room. Alone in the class, though, there is an inordinate amount of physical contact and unkind words being said. They should be past this by now. Am I not doing the community-building correctly? Have I missed an essential piece in teaching them to be caring?
A former teacher, a woman who had been Laura's fourth grade--and favorite---teacher, came to visit at lunch. When I told her Laura wanted to get married, she and another co-worker said to discourage her, that's she's too young. And then they said, "Why would she want to get married so young?"
because she's pregnant.....well, she was pregnant...
oh....
The kids are in the desert. Kyle is golfing in a tournament with his dad. It seems to be a tournament of a large group of people who are friends. Kyle loves it. Laura's not excited but she needs to get away. She'll be staying at the home of some really lovely older friends, people my age, who befriended them when they lived in a complex where Kyle worked in the leasing office. Laura miscarried this week and has been emotionally and physically upset. It's a heavy burden for such a young woman. And she had been so thrilled about having a baby. The pain of a miscarriage has been a lot for someone so young, and for someone who has had so much pain over the past year. They gave her a medication that would essentially put her in labor and force her body to expel everything that had been growing inside. What she described sounded like labor and I wonder if the medications are a pitosin derivative. She said two Vicodin did nothing to dull the pain. Yep, sounds like labor. The doctor told her to go away for a few days, get a change of scenery, and rest. I hope her health issues are over. I mean, what else could go wrong? She could get gall stones or kidney stones, I guess. She could break a bone or get a horrid cut. Well, after talking to the health benefits department at my work, she better do it before she turns 27. And if she has a baby, she has to get separate health insurance for it before it turns one month old.
He's gotten up out of bed, after having been in it for two hours. He's still going on about the pudding......And the sleeping arrangements. Lord, give me a break. I want to bust out. It's only now that I sit and reflect on my day and the verdict is: it wasn't such a good one.
This morning my principal questioned me about a couple of things I did recently. Hmmmm.....for one he actually said, "Don't do that again." Nicely. But it doesn't feel good that my principal doesn't agree with a professional decision I made. oh, well.....that's happened more than once over the last thirty-six years. And I'm not so sure he knew the whole story. But he's the boss. And he's a pretty good one.
I wore my Sanuks and a summery outfit to school. As I was driving west to work, the clouds and fog started rolling in.
I am the grade level leader and we were to meet for an hour and a half this morning, but with two out of four teachers having subs, it's not worth it to do any long-range planning or professional development. So we talked about Open House and testing. I worry we won't hit the ground running next year because we won't have done our advance-planning. That's why I had gone to the principal this morning. I needed to know if my vision for the team for the remainder of this school year was going to be okay.
The kids were a bit wild but did a great job being hosts to the visiting preschool class, choosing partners and showing the little ones everything in the room. Alone in the class, though, there is an inordinate amount of physical contact and unkind words being said. They should be past this by now. Am I not doing the community-building correctly? Have I missed an essential piece in teaching them to be caring?
A former teacher, a woman who had been Laura's fourth grade--and favorite---teacher, came to visit at lunch. When I told her Laura wanted to get married, she and another co-worker said to discourage her, that's she's too young. And then they said, "Why would she want to get married so young?"
because she's pregnant.....well, she was pregnant...
oh....
The kids are in the desert. Kyle is golfing in a tournament with his dad. It seems to be a tournament of a large group of people who are friends. Kyle loves it. Laura's not excited but she needs to get away. She'll be staying at the home of some really lovely older friends, people my age, who befriended them when they lived in a complex where Kyle worked in the leasing office. Laura miscarried this week and has been emotionally and physically upset. It's a heavy burden for such a young woman. And she had been so thrilled about having a baby. The pain of a miscarriage has been a lot for someone so young, and for someone who has had so much pain over the past year. They gave her a medication that would essentially put her in labor and force her body to expel everything that had been growing inside. What she described sounded like labor and I wonder if the medications are a pitosin derivative. She said two Vicodin did nothing to dull the pain. Yep, sounds like labor. The doctor told her to go away for a few days, get a change of scenery, and rest. I hope her health issues are over. I mean, what else could go wrong? She could get gall stones or kidney stones, I guess. She could break a bone or get a horrid cut. Well, after talking to the health benefits department at my work, she better do it before she turns 27. And if she has a baby, she has to get separate health insurance for it before it turns one month old.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Is It Over Yet?
Here's my day today:
7:45 Wake up (for no reason at all)
8:15 Get out of bed. Get back in.
8:30 Get coffee. Get back in bed. Read.
9:00 Read my email on my iPad
9:15 Get out of bed. Put my feet in my slippers. Take my feet out. Get back in bed.
9:20 Play Bejewelled on my iPad
9:45 Get out of bed. Forbid myself to get back in.
10:00 Wash my face. Change my clothes.
10:10 Go to family room. Watch tv. 'Movies Mom Could Love' are on: Sex and the City #1, Juno, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days,....and more....
3:15 Go to the grocery.
4:15 Come back with groceries. Put them away.
Day over. Where did it go? Oh, geez! I forgot to go to the Apple Store to get my iPod fixed.
A while back, maybe six or eight weeks ago, I started the crying phase of this divorce. I haven't gotten too emotionally involved with it. I figure it's another necessary step toward starting my new life. One of my friends laughs at the way I describe it. She says I sound so detached. I figure it's just a passing thing. And the good news is that what happened was the healthy choice. The healthy choice did not give me a pass on pain, some sadness, or some discomfort. If I have to cry for a while, it's a small price to pay. I cry because I'm grieving the loss of a relationship that lasted a quarter of a century. I cry because I know I had to give up on the marriage and the love, and I didn't want to. Many things have happened throughout this last year and, because I didn't cry much at all during the first eight months, I felt this time would come. I knew the marriage hadn't made me so tough that I was unable to cry.
Bill didn't respond well to tears. With my first husband, tears would make him melt. It put an end to a lot of arguments but, unfortunately, didn't resolve them. If I was arguing with Bill and I started to cry----and I can't turn on the tears like a spigot, I don't cry easily----, he would get pissed. Interesting response to someone's pain. But I really learned to suck it up. I got good at it, I could go through a big argument and not cry at all. I was actually kind of proud of myself. And calm resolve worked well on Bill. I think it even made him a bit nervous, insecure. I had learned how crying had stopped communication with my ex and knew it wasn't good. Too many things had been left unresolved, and those things only contributed to the demise of the relationship. In fact, our marriage got so bad I didn't even want to see him after I left him. Talking things through with Bill was a healthy step I thought.
So, back to this current stage. I have been listening to 'Knoxville' every night before I fall asleep. It has made me cry. It felt good at times. Get it out. Move on. Over the past week I have found I haven't been crying to it. I have been hopeful my crying stage is coming to an end.
However, today, while watching 'Sex and the City' and 'Juno', I found myself with inexplicably leaky eyes again. Am I tired or am I reaching the end of the crying stage?
I hope it's over. Crying makes me think of someone who feels sorry for herself: Pity Party, table for one. It can sound whiny. I don't like whiny. I don't like people who feel sorry for themselves. I want to move on. The thought that I sound whiny is not a pretty one. I am starting to annoy MYSELF. Dear Crying Stage, Please be over. Love, Cindy.
Tomorrow is Mother's Day. To me, it officially marks me as being single for a year, even though all of this started a year ago April 28, didn't become an official divorce until May 20. It was the last time I had sex. The kids tell me I'm really going to like what they got me and it's something I'd never think of. They said it's something I've had before. A husband? An Acura? An electric stapler? Whatever it is, I'm looking forward to the day. I want to do something for Laura since she, in a way, is a mother now.
7:45 Wake up (for no reason at all)
8:15 Get out of bed. Get back in.
8:30 Get coffee. Get back in bed. Read.
9:00 Read my email on my iPad
9:15 Get out of bed. Put my feet in my slippers. Take my feet out. Get back in bed.
9:20 Play Bejewelled on my iPad
9:45 Get out of bed. Forbid myself to get back in.
10:00 Wash my face. Change my clothes.
10:10 Go to family room. Watch tv. 'Movies Mom Could Love' are on: Sex and the City #1, Juno, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days,....and more....
3:15 Go to the grocery.
4:15 Come back with groceries. Put them away.
Day over. Where did it go? Oh, geez! I forgot to go to the Apple Store to get my iPod fixed.
A while back, maybe six or eight weeks ago, I started the crying phase of this divorce. I haven't gotten too emotionally involved with it. I figure it's another necessary step toward starting my new life. One of my friends laughs at the way I describe it. She says I sound so detached. I figure it's just a passing thing. And the good news is that what happened was the healthy choice. The healthy choice did not give me a pass on pain, some sadness, or some discomfort. If I have to cry for a while, it's a small price to pay. I cry because I'm grieving the loss of a relationship that lasted a quarter of a century. I cry because I know I had to give up on the marriage and the love, and I didn't want to. Many things have happened throughout this last year and, because I didn't cry much at all during the first eight months, I felt this time would come. I knew the marriage hadn't made me so tough that I was unable to cry.
Bill didn't respond well to tears. With my first husband, tears would make him melt. It put an end to a lot of arguments but, unfortunately, didn't resolve them. If I was arguing with Bill and I started to cry----and I can't turn on the tears like a spigot, I don't cry easily----, he would get pissed. Interesting response to someone's pain. But I really learned to suck it up. I got good at it, I could go through a big argument and not cry at all. I was actually kind of proud of myself. And calm resolve worked well on Bill. I think it even made him a bit nervous, insecure. I had learned how crying had stopped communication with my ex and knew it wasn't good. Too many things had been left unresolved, and those things only contributed to the demise of the relationship. In fact, our marriage got so bad I didn't even want to see him after I left him. Talking things through with Bill was a healthy step I thought.
So, back to this current stage. I have been listening to 'Knoxville' every night before I fall asleep. It has made me cry. It felt good at times. Get it out. Move on. Over the past week I have found I haven't been crying to it. I have been hopeful my crying stage is coming to an end.
However, today, while watching 'Sex and the City' and 'Juno', I found myself with inexplicably leaky eyes again. Am I tired or am I reaching the end of the crying stage?
I hope it's over. Crying makes me think of someone who feels sorry for herself: Pity Party, table for one. It can sound whiny. I don't like whiny. I don't like people who feel sorry for themselves. I want to move on. The thought that I sound whiny is not a pretty one. I am starting to annoy MYSELF. Dear Crying Stage, Please be over. Love, Cindy.
Tomorrow is Mother's Day. To me, it officially marks me as being single for a year, even though all of this started a year ago April 28, didn't become an official divorce until May 20. It was the last time I had sex. The kids tell me I'm really going to like what they got me and it's something I'd never think of. They said it's something I've had before. A husband? An Acura? An electric stapler? Whatever it is, I'm looking forward to the day. I want to do something for Laura since she, in a way, is a mother now.
Mr. Wonderful
"You know, Honey. Why don't you just relax and let ME make dinner tonight?"
"Ah, can't your mother stay another week?"
"The ball game really isn't that important. Id rather spend time with you."
"Let's just cuddle tonight."
"Actually, I'm not sure WHICH way to go. I'll just turn in here and ask directions."
"Here, YOU take the remote. As long as I'm with you, I don't care WHAT we watch."
A few years ago, Laura and her then-boyfriend gave me a little stuffed man named 'Mr. Wonderful'. You squeeze his stomach and he says the above things. I've been watching 'Movies Mom Could Love' on one of the channels all day today with Mr. Wonderful. He really loves them because as long as he's with me, he doesn't care WHAT we watch.
"Ah, can't your mother stay another week?"
"The ball game really isn't that important. Id rather spend time with you."
"Let's just cuddle tonight."
"Actually, I'm not sure WHICH way to go. I'll just turn in here and ask directions."
"Here, YOU take the remote. As long as I'm with you, I don't care WHAT we watch."
A few years ago, Laura and her then-boyfriend gave me a little stuffed man named 'Mr. Wonderful'. You squeeze his stomach and he says the above things. I've been watching 'Movies Mom Could Love' on one of the channels all day today with Mr. Wonderful. He really loves them because as long as he's with me, he doesn't care WHAT we watch.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Boundaries
I believe one of the biggest lessons I can learn right now is how to make appropriate boundaries. Boundaries I made with Bill were violated like crazy. I grew weary of being treated like I didn't mean it when I made a boundary. I think that making boundaries is one of the healthiest things I can do to avoid repeating mistakes I have made in the past. And from here on out, I will do a better job of enforcing those boundaries.
I've read the book "Boundaries". Twice. It's good. I learned that I have made very few of my own boundaries in my life. Many of 'my' boundaries were not of my own making. I think that by letting others make the boundaries, I let myself be pushed into a place where I was living a life that was not of my own choosing. In reflection, I learned that I didn't feel entitled to make boundaries or expect others to honor them. That is changing. I must believe I can make boundaries and believe I am entitled to not only make them but have others honor them.
As this divorce progresses, I find I have to create boundaries all the time. It actually started with me trying to create a new boundary with Bill, a boundary that said 'I will not put myself in a position where you can damage my future with your gambling. Protect me," an attempt at making a boundary that we all know failed. As the divorce has continued, I have had to make and stand firm on boundaries with Bill. He is still trying to circumvent the legal process. I am becoming more and more aware of where in my life I need boundaries. In some places my boundaries are clear to me. In other places the need for boundaries comes more into focus as time goes by. Also because of the divorce, some existing boundaries need to be redefined or changed. I am learning how to make boundaries and be nicely assertive about them.
Today I made a boundary for the refrigerator. I have known for years that you can't put fruit and vegetables together in a refrigerator drawer. Today I cleaned out the drawers and made a note "Fruits and vegetables can't go in the same drawer (see island sink). Please put fruit in the bottom drawer and vegetables in the top drawer." I also told the relief caregiver how to set the delay on the dishwasher so it's not turning on right after dinner when we're still out in the family room.
The boundaries with Dad are a constant work-in-progress. It's like when you have a three-year-old or a fourteen-year-old and they keep pushing the boundaries to see if you're really committed to those boundaries. I can always tell when Dad doesn't like a boundary I've set because he forgets we've had the discussion. Carmi reminds him a lot and that helps me.
Next I have to set boundaries with my sweet kids, the future parents. They don't clean up after themselves. They also do one of the things that really bugged me about Bill: they bring things home from the store and either leave them in the obnoxious ubiquitous plastic bags on the counter or empty the bags and leave the empty bags sitting there. My darling daughter made some neck warmers with the sewing machine last night and left the sewing machine on the dining table. Their laundry is everywhere and there are stacks of things next to the back door for them to take out to their room. Boundaries with the two of them will have to be created incrementally; they have so much to work on.
Boundaries will be an ongoing effort and I expect to have more boundary blog entries.
I've read the book "Boundaries". Twice. It's good. I learned that I have made very few of my own boundaries in my life. Many of 'my' boundaries were not of my own making. I think that by letting others make the boundaries, I let myself be pushed into a place where I was living a life that was not of my own choosing. In reflection, I learned that I didn't feel entitled to make boundaries or expect others to honor them. That is changing. I must believe I can make boundaries and believe I am entitled to not only make them but have others honor them.
As this divorce progresses, I find I have to create boundaries all the time. It actually started with me trying to create a new boundary with Bill, a boundary that said 'I will not put myself in a position where you can damage my future with your gambling. Protect me," an attempt at making a boundary that we all know failed. As the divorce has continued, I have had to make and stand firm on boundaries with Bill. He is still trying to circumvent the legal process. I am becoming more and more aware of where in my life I need boundaries. In some places my boundaries are clear to me. In other places the need for boundaries comes more into focus as time goes by. Also because of the divorce, some existing boundaries need to be redefined or changed. I am learning how to make boundaries and be nicely assertive about them.
Today I made a boundary for the refrigerator. I have known for years that you can't put fruit and vegetables together in a refrigerator drawer. Today I cleaned out the drawers and made a note "Fruits and vegetables can't go in the same drawer (see island sink). Please put fruit in the bottom drawer and vegetables in the top drawer." I also told the relief caregiver how to set the delay on the dishwasher so it's not turning on right after dinner when we're still out in the family room.
The boundaries with Dad are a constant work-in-progress. It's like when you have a three-year-old or a fourteen-year-old and they keep pushing the boundaries to see if you're really committed to those boundaries. I can always tell when Dad doesn't like a boundary I've set because he forgets we've had the discussion. Carmi reminds him a lot and that helps me.
Next I have to set boundaries with my sweet kids, the future parents. They don't clean up after themselves. They also do one of the things that really bugged me about Bill: they bring things home from the store and either leave them in the obnoxious ubiquitous plastic bags on the counter or empty the bags and leave the empty bags sitting there. My darling daughter made some neck warmers with the sewing machine last night and left the sewing machine on the dining table. Their laundry is everywhere and there are stacks of things next to the back door for them to take out to their room. Boundaries with the two of them will have to be created incrementally; they have so much to work on.
Boundaries will be an ongoing effort and I expect to have more boundary blog entries.
Healthy Choices
22 years is a long time. 26 years is a long time. Living in a difficult situation is a long time no matter how many years go by. But when you love someone and you're in a difficult situation with them, the time can pass by in strange ways. The years with Bill didn't seem like that many. But the day-in and day-out difficulties were there all the time. If they didn't remedy themselves, it would only be a matter of time before I either got steamrolled by Bill or the marriage blew up.
Bill and I were separated twice during our marriage, once in 1993 and again in 1996. The first separation was because he had been depressed, had gone to a shrink to get antidepressants, had been given something people with bipolar disorder shouldn't have, and shot up into the emotional stratosphere. It was then that the diagnosis was made. By his sister. She knew him better than I. The doctors had no trouble agreeing. The second time, the '96 one, was because of gambling.
It was during that second separation that I met and became friends with a woman, a co-worker, who had been married to a fellow in my church. He had turned out to be a liar and swindler who went so far as to forge documents and lie to people -----several from church---- to get them to 'invest' with him. People lost hundreds of thousands of dollars. He told his wife he worked in a special fraud division of a bank, and she was never to call him at work. Every morning she packed him a lunch and waved as he drove off to his job at the 'bank'. Then it all hit the fan and he was exposed for the fraud he was. She turned her back on him and left. It wasn't about whether or not she loved him; they had been sweethearts since high school. She needed to live a life she could endure.
During the '96 episode she said something that lived in my head until this divorce started. She said, "It's not about love. It's about making healthy choices."
It didn't make any sense to me at the time. And I made a choice to stay in the marriage until Laura grew up. But what she said kept repeating itself in my head.
love healthy choices love healthy choices love healthy choices
Why were the two mutually exclusive? Did they HAVE to be? Why couldn't I have love AND a healthy choice? The stubborn part of me couldn't accept that the two were not going to coexist in my world with Bill. Why couldn't marriage to someone I loved and who loved me back be healthy? Couldn't the craziness, the gambling, the reckless spending, the odd social behavior be excised? And I was hopeful. I thought that in time things would get better. Big misconception. He wasn't going to change THAT much. Some do. But not Bill.
I get a funny, uncomfortable feeling as I write this. I feel like I both expose my stupidity and shirk my responsibility for my part in the years wasted. And I am angry with myself for not 'hearing' what she said. She was/is wiser than I and she was far enough removed from my situation to see it for what it was. So I, with my limited perspective, kept on going, hoping against the odds that things would calm down and straighten out. I believed that life would BECOME healthy because there WAS love. One would create the other. Cause and effect.
It's only now that I 'get' what she said. Sometimes you can love someone and they can love you back, but life with them is not good for you. OH! Look who's growing up just in time to turn sixty.
Bill and I were separated twice during our marriage, once in 1993 and again in 1996. The first separation was because he had been depressed, had gone to a shrink to get antidepressants, had been given something people with bipolar disorder shouldn't have, and shot up into the emotional stratosphere. It was then that the diagnosis was made. By his sister. She knew him better than I. The doctors had no trouble agreeing. The second time, the '96 one, was because of gambling.
It was during that second separation that I met and became friends with a woman, a co-worker, who had been married to a fellow in my church. He had turned out to be a liar and swindler who went so far as to forge documents and lie to people -----several from church---- to get them to 'invest' with him. People lost hundreds of thousands of dollars. He told his wife he worked in a special fraud division of a bank, and she was never to call him at work. Every morning she packed him a lunch and waved as he drove off to his job at the 'bank'. Then it all hit the fan and he was exposed for the fraud he was. She turned her back on him and left. It wasn't about whether or not she loved him; they had been sweethearts since high school. She needed to live a life she could endure.
During the '96 episode she said something that lived in my head until this divorce started. She said, "It's not about love. It's about making healthy choices."
It didn't make any sense to me at the time. And I made a choice to stay in the marriage until Laura grew up. But what she said kept repeating itself in my head.
love healthy choices love healthy choices love healthy choices
Why were the two mutually exclusive? Did they HAVE to be? Why couldn't I have love AND a healthy choice? The stubborn part of me couldn't accept that the two were not going to coexist in my world with Bill. Why couldn't marriage to someone I loved and who loved me back be healthy? Couldn't the craziness, the gambling, the reckless spending, the odd social behavior be excised? And I was hopeful. I thought that in time things would get better. Big misconception. He wasn't going to change THAT much. Some do. But not Bill.
I get a funny, uncomfortable feeling as I write this. I feel like I both expose my stupidity and shirk my responsibility for my part in the years wasted. And I am angry with myself for not 'hearing' what she said. She was/is wiser than I and she was far enough removed from my situation to see it for what it was. So I, with my limited perspective, kept on going, hoping against the odds that things would calm down and straighten out. I believed that life would BECOME healthy because there WAS love. One would create the other. Cause and effect.
It's only now that I 'get' what she said. Sometimes you can love someone and they can love you back, but life with them is not good for you. OH! Look who's growing up just in time to turn sixty.
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