Tag: parenting

Cinderella…and that damn Glass Slipper

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I recently tried watching the War of the Roses. Halfway through the movie I was so upset that I had to turn it off.  Does anyone remember that movie? It’s an old one. It stars Michael Douglas, Kathleen Turner, and Danny DeVito. It’s a dark comedy…about a vicious divorce. I remember being somewhat entertained by it years ago. It seemed so outrageous. In the movie the Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner characters are a married couple who from the outside would appear to have it all. But the resentment and anger were brewing under the surface like poison. And (spoiler alert) the anger, resentment and rage was so intense that they killed each other in the end. That’s right. The anger killed them.

And from where I sit right now I wonder if they didn’t have it easy. The anger during a break-up is consuming.  It’s like a fire in your blood. You are shocked and outraged. How could this happen? You don’t deserve this! No one deserves this. Screw him. What a SELFISH and despicable coward. He’s a weak excuse for a human being.  The anger is overwhelming.

But something worse quickly takes its place. Something much harder to endure than all that rage.  The pain and rejection you feel when someone you were in a longtime relationship with-someone you love- walks away…is brutal.  Devastating. I can’t even put into words how it makes you feel. It makes you feel empty inside and like you are being suffocated at the same time. Like your drowning. You bared your most personal self to someone that you think will be there for you forever. But instead they take a pass. You aren’t a priority. They’re busy. They don’t love you back. They don’t have time for you. You aren’t their person. And they lied when they said you were. They are going to find someone new. Or they already did find someone new? But regardless, they rejected you. And that rejection and pain are the real killers. But not quick and explosive like the anger. Slow and cruel like a terminal illness.

Rejection steals your self-esteem. Your confidence. It makes you wonder every single day why you weren’t enough. “What’s wrong with me?” you can’t help but ask yourself repeatedly.  It’s the question that haunts your dreams. It’s what you are thinking about when you wake up at 3am feeling like you can’t breathe. Why didn’t they want me? And why did they ever pretend at all? Didn’t they know that I loved them? No matter how many people tell you that it wasn’t you-it was them…you will never be able to fully believe it. “You will find somebody new! Someone better!” they say. Like it’s just that easy…  Rejection changes your ability to give love. To find love. It steals a very precious part of you away. Forever.

Finding a lifelong companion is still a secret dream of mine. “Where’s my white knight?” I ask myself stupidly.  I want that feeling of being loved unconditionally. Of being cherished. I want to feel what it must be like to have someone choose to put your happiness above their own. To have someone who can’t imagine life without me. I see it around me every single day. So it must be possible! At least I think it’s possible. Maybe I’m naive.  Or, as one of my best friends said to me last night, “I think we watched Cinderella to many times when we were little.” Yes. I guess we did.

Cinderella…you bitch. And that damn glass slipper.

You do you…

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It’s Saturday night. I drank wine. (Maybe to much…no…seriously to much.) And I listened to Prince. I’m a glutton for punishment. **Disclaimer. I’ve listened to ‘When Doves Cry’ 7 times in a row. And now I’m blogging.** God I love Prince. I am heartbroken. He was one of the greatest. He is one of the greatest. I remember myself in the 80’s. The 90’s. Listening to his music. I sat with my sister, nephew and his fiance reminiscing about the past tonight. About my memories. When I was to young to understand I snuck into the local State Movie theater to watch the movie Purple Rain. I loved it. I was mesmerized. It was that simple. He was Prince. Period. He wore high heels and eyeliner and he was the most masculine thing I had ever imagined. My first memory of sexuality. Sex. Sexiness. He was fucking hot. I was in love.

Life is so funny. You really don’t know what is going on until you reach your 40’s. But try telling your 20 something self that. (Or-how about that teenager listening to Purple Rain…) When you are about 25 you think you know everything. You are an adult. You have it all figured out. You were the shit. You don’t need your parents- or your tipsy Aunt giving you life hints (sigh). You don’t need that bullshit. Fuck that! You are a grown-up. But when you are a 42 year old divorced single working mom…you need all the support you can get. It’s called perspective. When your reach your 40’s you realize you need all the advice  you can get. And you don’t even feel bad about it. You finally know better. That’s why self-help books are so popular. We all need help of some kind.

We all wish we could go back. I don’t care who you are. Oprah. Prince. Barack Obama. Divorce Shoes. ‘If I knew now what I knew then’ might be the most prophetic statement in history.But fuck if we admit it at the time. ‘Cause we all think we know better. Between the age of 18-25 we are fucking clueless adults. And btw…making some of the most important decisions of our lives. It’s kinda of funny…right? I will major in this! Let’s get married! We should have kids! This is the best job ever! I’m so smart! God…what idiots. And those ‘idiot’s’ have to live with those ‘brilliant’ choices forever. (And that’s one reason why I have an X…)

So what would I tell my 20ish year old self? Hmmmm… If I could only go back.

I would tell that 21 year old girl some pretty important stuff. Life changing stuff. Stuff that she would have probably nodded politely too and gone on to do the exact opposite. Like everyone else her age. But it’s important shit. Stuff I eventually hope to pass on to my own children. (Who will also probably nod politely and go on to do their own shit).Life experiences that can only can be gained from…you know…life experience.

#1 Slow down. What’s the hurry? You have time. You are in your 20’s for Godsakes. It’s going to be okay. I promise. This isn’t a race. Take your time. Make your mistakes. Sleep on your neighbors couch. Have bad credit. Your 25 years old. You still have time to fix it! If you are spending one minute crying about how thing’s aren’t going like you expected-STOP. I’m serious!  This is life on training wheels. Enjoy it!💜

#2 Think about you first. (***Disclaimer… As long it’s not always about you…remember to have balance. There can be a fine line between advocating for yourself and being selfish. But I trust you to figure that out.) If you don’t have kids this is your time! Figure out what YOU want. Not what your ‘guy’ wants. Not what his family wants. Not what YOUR family wants. This is about you. Your life is about figuring out YOU. And don’t you dare forget it. Don’t be afraid to make waves. Don’t try to always please those around you. Put on your big girl shoes and figure out what you want out of life. I know you have already heard that you have only one chance at it. But listen up and believe it this time. You can’t go back. Don’t be afraid. Fear and anxiety will just steal your success. And your happiness. Don’t worry about upsetting your future mother-in-law. Mother-in-laws are nothing but a pain in the ass anyway. Live the life that you want. The life that means something to you. You only have one shot at this. And I can’t stress this enough. You are your own best advocate. Follow YOUR heart. Take the time to figure out what it is saying. It’s the only one that matters.💜

#3 Stop caring what other people think. You do you. Let them do them. And I’m talking big here…cause this is a hard one. Trying to filter out the noise of other peoples opinions. Advice. Helpful hints. It’s hard. Real hard. But strap on those big girl shoes and make a stand now. Live your authentic life. When I was a 20 year old woman I aimed to please. To make people happy. To avoid conflict. And though I wouldn’t have believed it then-I see it clearly now-it was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. It ultimately contributed to the downfall of a marriage. It set me up to be the most agreeable doormat in history. My need to please…pleased everyone but myself.💜

Life is such a learning experience. And I would say now to my adult  (future) niece and nephew the same thing I say to my own children. Every experience is a learning experience. So chill out. It will be okay. As long as you listen to your Aunt…(I couldn’t resist.)

And one last thing…about Prince. He wore awesome fucking shoes.👠

 

 

*All errors in this blog are attributed to the wine.🍷

 

**”DEARLY BELOVED…WE ARE GATHERED HERE TODAY TO GET THROUGH THIS THING CALLED LIFE.”   PRINCE 1958-2016💜

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They’re NOT ready…

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I had a complete mom meltdown yesterday. A tantrum. It was impressive if I don’t say so myself. We all know that being a mom is hard. But I’m handling it. How about a working mom? Ok…maybe a little harder-but I’ve still got this. How about a single working mom? Sigh. It’s ok. I’m fine. Really. I’ll be ready!

But guess who isn’t ready? Ever. No matter what. Let me tell you who. My kids. My three teenage children. They are never ready. The idea of being ready apparently never even crosses their little tiny teenage minds. And it’s making me lose my mind! I am now convinced they don’t know what the word ‘ready‘ even means. And I’m going to absolutely 100% blame them for my meltdown yesterday.

The little darlings were at the X’s over the weekend. But for the record that does not exempt me from my mothering duties. So for the people who say dumb things like…’at least you have the weekend off’…that’s not how this works! In fact- it usually puts me on high alert status. I’m mothering from a satellite location. Text messages, phone call’s and the occasional email. Checking the calendar for activities.  Reminding them of this and that. Talking them through problems. Worrying about stuff I have no control over. Regular mom stuff. From afar.

Sunday night I specifically say to each of my brilliant offspring. “Get to bed early and make sure you have everything ready for tomorrow!”

“We will mom!”they reply. Their halo’s are shining. They are angels. So considerate. So prepared. But I knew better… Sigh.

Fast forward to Monday morning at 8:15 to me standing in the middle of a crowded school parking lot next to son #2’s car. With his car alarm going off. And I have no way of silencing it. Loudly. Incessantly. Honk honk honk honk. It’s screaming ‘look at this dumb-ass mom!’ as loud as it can. ‘She’s late for work!’ it continues. ‘She’s a bad mother!’ ‘Her kids aren’t ready!’ Honk honk honk honk.

This little scenario started at about 7:40 that morning. I am getting ready for work. Since the kids are at the X’s you would think it would be a smooth morning. But I know better. So when the phone rings I’m not surprised. It’s my daughter.

“MOM! All my stuff is in #2’s car. And he left early for a golf meet. And no one told me. I need my stuff. MOM! Can you get the spare key and get my stuff. Please. Mom. Help. And #1 is supposed to take me to school and he is still in bed. And we are going to be late. He won’t get up!! Mom. Mom. Mom…..”

Insert very large sigh here. SIGH. “Where is your dad?” I can’t help myself from asking.

“He’s not here!!! He left early for work!”she is in full on teenage girl freak out mode.

“Tell #1 I said to get out of bed immediately and meet me at your brother’s car. I will get your things.” Because I’m the mom and that’s what I do.

I haul ass and get the spare key and head to the school parking lot. Conveniently located between two schools in the middle of morning drop offs. I foolishly think I will just dart in grab said stuff and hand it over to my waiting daughter. Emphasis on foolishly. Instead I make a fool of myself. I get to the car and my daughter is no where in sight. I have a key to unlock the door to get the binder that has been left carelessly in the back of the vehicle all weekend. (I mean if you don’t even need it why the hell do you bring it home!!!) But as soon as I open the door the alarm goes off. Fuck! And it won’t let me unlock any of the other doors. So I am forced to crawl over the seats, all the way to the very back of the vehicle, to dig out the binder, back pack and lunch box in dress pants and heels. And then I retrace my steps. And did I mention the car alarm?! It is probably scaring little children at the near by school at this point. And sarcastic teenagers honk as they go by just for fun!

So this is where my meltdown comes in. My tantrum. As I stand in shame next to the screaming car I begin an epic text rant to my children. “What the hell is wrong with you guys??! I am so mad at you all! Why can’t you get yourselves ready!! You aren’t babies!! Get organized! Solve your own problems! Come on!!!!” I spend endless time trying to find track uniforms, golf hats, binders, and parent permission forms that are due RIGHT NOW. Dragging teenagers out of bed. Running home on my break to get someones lunch. Looking for one of the 8 million tubes of Chapstick I already bought for you. (But now I can’t find-so lets just go ahead and make it 8 million and one!) Making last-minute runs to Walmart for science projects… It’s endless! It’s exhausting! And it’s me. My life. My mom life.

I was telling this story to some of my friends at work this morning. “At least they call you…”they said. And they are right. I am glad that they do. Really. I love being their mom. They are my pride and joy. I’m glad they know I am here for them…no matter what.

But sometimes. Just sometimes…I need the little dumb-asses to get their shit together.

 

 

 

Perspective…

 

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It’s a funny thing about perspective isn’t it? It very rarely matches anyone else’s. Your perspective is uniquely your own. Like your fingerprint.  It’s made up of your feelings. Your memories.  Your experiences. Your personality.

Divorce is definitely a he said/she said situation. And if you’re divorced-it’s obvious that they don’t match. Divorce is the ULTIMATE he said/she said situation.  But so is marriage really. You are committed to each other-theoretically.  But each person has their own story. And they believe it! It’s their truth.  It’s their perspective. I remember someone telling me once something about the truth being ‘somewhere in the middle.’ Somewhere between the he and the she. I thought that was a brilliant description! But of course everyone believes their own shit. And a lot of it is shit. But that doesn’t stop us. It’s human nature! And we all know how stupid humans are.  Your ability to respect someone else’s perspective can be the difference between ‘Happily Ever After’ and ‘Fuck Off.’

For me- this blog is my perspective. My opinion. It’s definitely not an autobiography.  It’s not the Gospel. It’s not my diary. It’s just a jumble of my thoughts…my feelings…my humor. Some serious. Some not. Some truth-some fiction?  It just depends on who you ask.  It’s like Wikipedia. It’s informative-but not necessarily a reliable source. (At least according to my kids Language Arts teachers…but for the record I think they are being a little bit picky.) There is nothing groundbreaking here.  It’s like US Weekly-if I was Tori Spelling. (It’s entertainment not news!) Or Facebook-since I’m a middle aged single mom that isn’t even close to famous.  My story is not my X’s. I’m pretty positive he would call bullshit on the whole entire thing. And that’s okay. No surprise there. It’s no different than our marriage. He didn’t like my perspective much then either. And he never thought I was very funny.

But guess what? My divorce has had a few positive things to add to my life. Besides the obvious perk of not being married to someone who doesn’t love you. Someone who finds themselves ‘so unhappy’ and btw… it’s apparently because of you. Divorce can help you find your voice. Find clarity. Find healing. As I tell my kids- every experience is a learning experience. That includes your life falling apart during an unexpected divorce. But maybe with all that pain- opportunity presents itself.

An opportunity to make someone laugh!  Someone think. Or give someone something to do while they are waiting for their name to be called at the doctor’s office. (Or probably more likely-while hiding out in the bathroom just to get a moment to themselves…because they are a divorced single mom…and those moments are hard to come by.) So I have the opportunity to inspire someone who is trying to walk in a brand new pair of divorce shoes. And we all know a new pair of shoes can be uncomfortable at first.

And just so you know. One thing I’m always serious about is my shoes.

 

***And just one more thing to mention. In the divorce WITH children. They have a perspective too. And in the end- it will be the one that really matters.

 

Till death do us part…

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When you are married with children things are as they should be. All is right with the world. You’re an adorable family! Just like you imagined when you walked down the aisle. Divorced WITH children…whole different ballgame. Fasten your seat-belt and enjoy the ride. It’s going to be a long one. I mean you’re divorced. Your marriage failed. You obviously don’t like each other. He thinks you are a bad housekeeper. You know he is a cheater. He’s seen you naked and seemingly wasn’t too impressed. He knows that your car is always dirty and that you can’t sew. You know that he’s cheap and a skilled liar. He doesn’t like cats. And you weren’t too impressed with seeing him naked either… The whole thing was a mistake and it’s time to move on. See ya later asshole. We’re done. Finished. The End.

Wait a minute… What? We’re not done are we. We hate each others guts and I wish you Ebola-but I am going to get to see you twice a week in my driveway picking up kids and dropping off laundry?! I get to continue to talk to you about health insurance and grade cards and holiday schedules and homework? We will continue to fight about money and car insurance and cell phone bills? This is wonderful! Why isn’t everyone getting divorced?  I get to see your smiling face at all the kids’ special events- and you’re bringing the Homewrecker?  This is great! Let me drink a glass (or 3) of Moscato now to celebrate.  Oh wait- now I get to drop off forgotten shoes at your spectacular new home with an in ground pool? (BTW- I wonder if the Homewrecker can swim? I always heard witches melt if they get wet. Just saying.  I’m melting…I’m melting… Sorry. I couldn’t resist.)

This is fucking fantastic!

What a spectacular bonus this is. The list of awkward and infuriating reasons you still have to deal with your X is infinite. You have kids together. And you always will. You are divorced WITH children. And that’s no ordinary breakup. It’s one of those gifts that keep on giving. We are co-parents. That’s still our job. Our duty. Even though we are divorced. We have to make it work. Somehow.  We will see each other at every single event of significance that involves our children. EVER. Band concerts, football games, awards banquets, Proms, graduations, college visits… Imagine yourself in the future at your children’s Weddings. With your X.  Meeting your precious grandchildren. With your X. Everything. With your X.

And guess what else? No really…guess!  Your kids. Those people you love more than anyone else in the entire universe. The ones you and your X brought into this world together.  They get to feel awkward and infuriated too! For life! They are well aware of how you and your X feel about each other. No matter how well you try to hide it. Or not. They know. They’ve lived your story right along with you. They recognize your fake smiles and frozen expressions. They see the pain and anger.  They feel the pain and anger. So no matter how you try to protect them- they are in for the ride as well. Fun, huh?

So… the divorce WITH children. Not for the faint at heart. You and your X are linked together forever. Just like those wedding vows said. Ironic, huh?  I guess it is until death do us part. One way or another.

 

Guess what? I don’t like laundry either…

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My X doesn’t do laundry. I was married to the man for 15ish years. This is no news flash. We are now divorced so whether he does laundry or not is irrelevant to me..right? Wrong answer.

For many years I did the laundry. It was my job. I was a stay at home mom and laundry was my domain. That is a reasonable job assignment..in theory. But what if said laundry ‘doer’ has the flu? What if it’s her birthday? What if the laundress had a recent radiation treatment on her thyroid? What if she is 9 months pregnant with 2 other small children to care for?? This man actually brought me dirty underwear to the hospital once.. I was 7 months pregnant and just had endured a painful surgery. He brought me dirty underwear because there was no one at home to do the laundry…and the ones in my drawer looked way to small for someone as fat as me. (True story- the nurse happened to be in the room and overheard this ‘here’s your dirty underwear’ exchange. She told him he should probably just go ahead and leave now. I remember after he left her standing by my bed patting my hand. I closed my eyes in embarrassment.)

But I digress. My X apparently still doesn’t do laundry. My X and I share custody of 3 children who (get this shocking revelation) wear clothes! They wear clothes that then become dirty…and somehow appear on my front porch in a trash bag. Or I find them stuffed in one of my kids suitcases. For me to wash! To say it pisses me off is an understatement. I promise you I’m not sending dirty laundry to his house! It brings back clearly the way it made me feel when I was married to him. My job was the manual labor. I did the dirty work of parenting. The dirty clothes, dirty diapers and dirty dishes. That wasn’t in his job description. He worked. He made money. He was important. And I was lucky to have him-obviously. I was the housekeeper. And nanny. It wasn’t that hard of a job, right? Anyone could do it. I was like the hired help. (And btw…he was perpetually unimpressed. I was like the hired help who was constantly afraid I was going to get fired.) My job had no value-because he could pay anyone to do it. And do it better! Housekeepers and nanny’s are easy to find. And probably cheaper and less needy than a wife. My X did not respect me as a housewife. (Because remember-I wasn’t Martha Stewart…or his mother). And judging by the dirty laundry he sends back with his children every week…his lack of respect obviously continues.

But I have news flash for my X. I don’t like laundry either. I fucking hate it to be exact. Sometimes my laundry pile is so big you could lose a small child in it. I think I actually have lost a small child in it before. I know for sure I once lost a turtle… (Don’t worry-everyone’s fine). But you know what? I put on my big girl shoes and do the damn laundry anyway. And I make my kids help! It’s just what you do. Because being a family takes teamwork. And that is something my X doesn’t understand…

And if you haven’t already guessed…my ‘big girl’ shoes are fierce.👠

Divorced is divorced…

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Are you divorced? Because divorced is divorced. Right? I mean you found out about the affair, went through the break up, you showed up at the court house…it’s done. Over. Finished. But I’ve noticed something. Somedays I feel more divorced than others. Certain situations increase my divorced status from regular to extremely pathetic.

Let’s start with the #1 worst offender… The holidays. Specifically Thanksgiving through Easter. Christmas of course being the Ultimate of all holidays. And I’m not discounting Valentine’s Day. That was one of the first pieces of advice my BDF gave me.

“Listen…all holidays will suck. Just accept it. Avoid sappy commercials and set your expectations low,” she informed me.

“Ok…” I nod. Sniff sniff…muffled sob.

Holidays are forever changed. Especially as a parent. Think about it… What’s the best part of any holiday when you become a mom?! Experiencing it with your children. Seeing the joy on their faces. Creating traditions. Playing Santa. Being with extended families. Divorce fucks it all up. Now with that all encompassing parent plan looming…holidays are a year by year proposition. Everything hinges on the calendar. Not only for you and your kids- but for all of your family and friends. Your family is just as irritated as you that they have to worry about whether this is an even or odd year before making any plans. Is this the 1st or 3rd weekend? What bullshit. (And now that my kids are older I can tell you with 100% certainty that holidays accentuate their divorce status as well. And they aren’t happy about it. In fact- they are pissed.)

#2 on the list….illness or injury. Specifically-yours. I remember one of my first experiences with this one vividly. I had just moved into the new house after the divorce and the kids were at the X’s for the weekend. I couldn’t sleep and was going downstairs to switch a load of laundry over. And somehow…I tripped and fell down the stairs. It was an impressive fall. If it was a scene on a soap opera I would definitely have died. I mean…I fell all the way down the stairs. And did I mention there is a landing in between the top and bottom? But I kept on going. It hurt. It scared me. And as I laid at the bottom of the stairs catching my breath I had never felt more alone. If I had broke my neck no one would have known. I stayed there and cried for a long time. I had several bumps and bruises-but no one to show them to. I was divorced.

#3 Car trouble. This one is a bit embarrassing… But for me there is nothing like car trouble to make me feel single. I mean I know what to do. I am an adult. But adulting is hard. Especially by yourself. It pisses me off. In my marriage cars were the X’s department. So when I find myself sitting on the side of the road with a flat tire, or trying to decipher what the light on my dash means…I get mad all over again. My X didn’t hold up his end of the bargain! He’s helping the home wrecker with her car troubles…

My BDF had car trouble recently. And I could hear some very familiar emotions in her voice.

“Come get me. My car died.” She was pissed. Worried. And divorced.

“I’m on my way.” And I went immediately. Because I’m divorced too.

Mailing Christmas cards (or not), filing taxes, dealing with door to door salesmen, checking the basement for suspicious noises…they can make you feel alone. Because you know what? You’re divorced. And being divorced sucks. But remember your not necessarily alone. I’m right there with you. We are both wearing the same shoes.

And shoe shopping is something I always did alone anyway. I hope yours are as cute as mine…👠

Divorce is never done. (Part 1)

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One not so fun thing about a divorce WITH children is money. Which is ironic. Money was a major problem in my shitty marriage as well.  In my marriage specifically-money talked. Whoever makes the money rules the world, right? I didn’t rule the world. I was a stay at home mom. So what was his was his. And what was mine was his also.

Money problems are pretty universal. In all adult people.  But especially in the divorced. (Divorced couples obviously don’t like each other-so there’s no way they are going to agree on financial issues. Come on now…enough with the unrealistic expectations.) What divorced kid hasn’t asked his dad for something and heard the classic ‘That’s what I pay your mother child support for…’ response? So they trudge back to mom and ask again.  ‘As soon as your dad sends my check!’  I cringe even thinking about it…

But I have been lucky compared to many divorced single moms on one account. My X always pays his child support. He has never missed. Not once. Some months it’s a little later than others…but it always comes. Until this month. This month I am having my first go round with the system. And I can’t even blame my X. (Well…I blame him a little. The divorce and affair and all. Remember-every upsetting situation can be linked to the divorce in 3 steps or less. 1. Get divorced. 2. Don’t receive child support check. 3. Have to deal with state workers who make me want to rip out my own hair…)

But let me get back on track. As of last week I still hadn’t received my check for this month. I text my X. He replies that it has been sent. I wait 2 more days. I text him again. He replies that he checked with the bank and that the check in question has cleared his account. I check mailbox diligently. No check. I call the state department of social services family support division. I hold for 11 minutes and accidentally hang up when I’m checking my phone to see how long I have been holding. I call back. I hold 23 minutes. The hold music is horrendous. Like some of the worst. It’s designed to make you give up I think. They are testing you to see how bad you really need to talk with them.  I don’t give up and I finally get someone on the phone. A man with a monotone voice-who seems dead inside. He reports that no check has been received for this month and that I should open a case against my X.

“Are you sure?’’ I ask. “The X says he has a copy of the cancelled check.”

“I’m sure.” he replies. “I can’t help you. Call your county offices.”

I take a deep breath, and dutifully call my county offices. The good news is that someone answers the phone almost immediately! A very lovely lady, who has no idea how to help me. She takes a message for the lady who may be able to help me-but is of course in a meeting.

“But I don’t think we can help you.” she apologizes. “Unless you want to open a case. I think you should call the state back. They can help you.”

“Can the lady who knows something call me back?” I ask.

“Actually-no. Probably not.  You will need to call her back tomorrow… But I really think we can’t help you.” she repeats.

I sigh and text my BDF about my terrible, horrible, no good day and the injustices of my divorced life. I brace myself and call the X. Something I normally avoid at all costs. He is his regular condescending self. This is not his problem. He sent the check. It’s my problem. Etc. Etc. Etc. However- when I explain that the only answer I am getting so far is to open a case against him- he really gets irritated.

“I am just trying to get some help.”I explain.

“I will fax you a copy of the cancelled check.” Click. They man is obviously too busy to deal with this bullshit.

So I hang by the fax machine and wait for the evidence. It comes through. And in the tradition of all faxes it’s a shitty copy. Great. Perfect actually. But since I need the money…I dial the state again. I hold for 19 minutes before my daughter calls three times in a row so I know it must be something really serious.

‘Hello!!??’ I screech. ’What’s happened?!!’

‘When will you be home? Can I have a snack? Where is the ice cream?’ she asks.

‘I don’t know. I don’t care. Don’t call back unless something is on fire…’

I make my third phone call. It’s 4:20. I know my time is limited. I hold for 35 minutes. 35 minutes. 35 minutes in a row. It’s dangerously close to 5:00. I finally get someone on the phone. Another man who lacks job enthusiasm.  I quickly explain my entire story. Every little detail. The phone calls. The cancelled check. Everything. He is unimpressed.

“We can’t help you ma’am. You need to call your county and open a case.”

“The county told me to call you back! I have a copy of the cancelled check. Can’t I speak to the person who cashes checks?!” I’m desperate now. And to say I’m frustrated is an understatement. My right eye is beginning to twitch.

“No one here does that ma’am. I suggest you call the county and open a case against your X.”

So in retrospect- I could have taken off work and driven to the state capital in the same amount of time that I spent holding on the phone. I have a raging headache and still no answers. I am actually fantasizing about my X’s face if I did ‘just open a case against him’- just to cheer myself up.

And I am thinking of all those women who deal with this crap every single month. Asshole X’s who don’t even send the money. The bureaucracy that is supposed to help them. The hours spent worrying and fretting and trying to figure it out. While working. And taking care of kids. And all the other stuff it’s up to them alone to do…

My BDF is right about one thing. No one understands. They don’t get it. Unless they have stood in your shoes-your divorce shoes- while holding endlessly on the phone- waiting for answers-with a sick feeling in their  stomach…

Divorce is never done.

(Stay tuned for part 2. Will I get my money? Will the X get involved? Does my eye stop twitching?  How long will I hold on the phone? Are we out of ice cream? What shoes will I be wearing?)

 

My Momtourage…

 

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Nothing brings women together like being ‘moms.’ In a small town like mine you get to know your children’s friends. And more importantly-their mothers. These are the woman you see almost everyday of your mom life. They are in the morning drop off line, at PTO meetings, sporting events, band concerts, and of course Wal-mart. You are all kind of thrown together-whether you like it or not. And if you are as lucky as I have been- you will meet some of your best friends while waiting to pick up your angels from school. The only thing you may have in common is being moms. But believe it or not-that’s enough.

You are all pursuing the same goal. ‘Mother of the year.’ Until you quickly realize that goal isn’t going to happen. Sorry ladies. So now you settle for ‘Not late to school..today’ as a worthy accomplishment. Because..you know..being a mom is hard as shit. And sometimes it’s a day by day proposition. And frankly we all need support. And who better to lean on than the other moms. The ‘momtourage.’

Thank God for me my group doesn’t get caught up in tearing each other down. We build each other up. We became a team! These women are there when you need them. Picking up kids, helping with homework, dropping off dinner. (Helping you move after a messy divorce.) We have all kind of unofficially taken on a role. A way to contribute. Divide and conquer.

We of course have our ‘super organized mom.’ She is a Queen Bee to any mom group. This chic is on it. She knows things. Lots of things. She always has a list and a calendar on her person. Not at home on her desk. It’s with her. Always. She is who you call when you can’t remember what your forgetting. She is willing to be in charge so that she knows it will be done the way she has it envisioned. So it’s a win/win for everyone.

We have the religious mom. She prays for all of us. Some of us more than others I suspect..sigh. (Sorry and thanks.) This is a busy job. We usually all have some shit going on..and it’s nice to know someone has us covered. She takes her job seriously. Thank God. (Literally..)

Positive outlook mom. She reins in our bitchiness. Somedays that’s harder than others. I imagine nothing wears on her positive attitude more than a roomful of disgruntled mothers. But she perseveres! She redirects us like toddlers back to our happy place. We don’t even know what’s happening..and poof. All smiles again.

We have ‘head of the school carnival’ mom. (Which could also have the dual title as PTO president mom.) Give this lady a hug right now. And then bow down at her feet. Organize a parade in her honor. Never mind the parade…she’s in charge of the school carnival and needs some quiet. Buy her a bottle of wine instead. School carnivals are only fun if you are a kid. Not for the people planning them. This might be the most valuable mom in your group. Everyone make sure they are being extra nice to her. Seriously.

Stay at home mom, healthy mom, teacher mom, nurse mom, working mom, and tired mom. Hot mess mom is a revolving position. We all take a turn just to keep things interesting.. (Except maybe super organized mom. She keeps that shit off the calendar.)

And of course there is the ‘Divorced Single Mom.’ I guess you know who has that position.. In our group there is only one. Maybe that’s all they can handle. Divorced single mom might need the group more than any of the others. She definitely falls into the hot mess category most often. I think that’s inevitable.. Sigh. But the Momtourage has her back..and they helped her find her shoes. 👠

(Thanks ladies..)

 

 

No Fault Divorce?!

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The ‘no fault’ divorce. What is that? I don’t understand. How can divorce be no ones fault? I am still as confused today as the first time I heard this important tidbit. Missouri is a ‘no fault’ state my lawyer informed me. What?? Say it again real slow please… No fault you say? What a relief. No one has to feel bad. Its NO ONES FAULT.  Every one go back to your regularly scheduled program..nothing to see here. No one should feel wronged. It’s just a divorce.

They happen every day people! Your X has an affair-not relevant. He drinks to much-who really cares anyway. He’s an asshole- that’s his God given right. He never showed any interest in hands on parenting until exactly today at 8:03 am when he arrived at the Court House-the man is obviously busy.  He occasionally likes to smoke pot-it’s legal in 4 states anyway. He is a  practiced and skilled liar-who can blame him?  If he didn’t lie so well you might have found out about his affair sooner! He doesn’t like cats- why should he. Bad tipper- that will teach the waitress a lesson. But you know what he isn’t? Absolutely, positively is not? He isn’t at fault. No reason for him to loose any sleep. He has the right to get divorced and dismantle his family without the responsibility of being wrong. Thank you legal system for this gift to all who divorce. I really appreciate it.

But I have a radical thought here. What if.. What if it is someone’s fault? And that someone was made to be accountable. Would there be less divorce? I think it’s a valid question. What if there is a right and a wrong? A responsibility for your actions. Would that be an incentive to try a little harder? To be a better person. Maybe you would pay a little more attention at those marriage counseling appointments. But like always- that’s just my opinion..

Marriage is hard. Its a commitment! Preferably a lifelong commitment. No one is guaranteed constant happiness. And divorce has become an all too common option. You know..since it’s not my fault..I think I’ll just ditch this party all together, right? Maybe making no one take blame wasn’t our best idea ever..

I’m trying to think of another situation when things are no ones fault. Hmm… Besides illness and natural disasters.. I don’t think anyone is causing tornadoes around here. (And let’s not get into the Global Warming debate..) I’m talking strictly relationship stuff here. When things go wrong- it’s usually because someone is being an asshole.

It’s always someone’s fault! Maybe one person. Maybe both. You might take turns. It probably varies from day to day. But someone did something wrong.

So about that ‘no fault’ divorce. I call bullshit.. So I guess I better wear boots for that.

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