Tag: single parenting

What do you mean you don’t like cats?

IMG_5611

I have a new requirement for men in my life. If you don’t like cats-I don’t like you.

So let me set the stage. When I was growing up we had all kinds of animals. My mom loved them. And she passed that love on to me. We had horses, dogs, the occasional hamster, birds, and a fish tank I adored. And of course…cats. We had a barn that was like a beacon of hospitality for all the stray cats around.  I loved those cats. My family laughing predicted I would grow up to be a crazy cat lady. And that seemed like a great idea to me. I was on board! There was nothing more soothing to me than crawling up onto a bale of hay with a warm and furry friend on my lap. It was my happy place.

Fast-forward a few years. I’m married.  My X hates cats. He’s ‘allergic’. (Total bullshit btw. He once had allergy testing done that showed he was more allergic to dogs than cats. He was more allergic to beer than cats. He conveniently had no problems with dogs…or beer.) But I was totally okay with this at the time. Not everyone likes cats I tell myself. The cat I had during college had died unexpectedly from a lung infection. She would not be replaced. It’s for the best I tell myself. Less stress. I’m super busy trying to be the perfect wife and mother anyway. Sigh.

As you can imagine- I see it differently now. What do you mean you don’t like cats? What have cats ever done to you? And by the way…don’t you like me? Couldn’t you possibly love me more than you dislike cats? How is it possible to just decide you hate every single cat in the world?  Just because it’s a cat. Isn’t that racism?? Speciesism?? It wasn’t really about the cat. It was obviously about his needs being more important than mine. His desire to be in control. His belief that his opinion was the only opinion that mattered. He declared that he hated cats. So we should all respect his dislike. End of story.

Over the years cats occasionally showed up at our house. My X wasn’t prepared to deal with my children’s love for all animals. They loved cats! Just like me. That was a harder battle for him to fight-without feeling like the bad guy.  I remember when the kids where older-just about a year before my husband left- a cat showed up on our back deck in March. She was tiny, filthy, and obviously pregnant. She was desperate. I was instantly in love. My X rolled his eyes. I fixed a place for her in the small garage where we stored the tools. I set up a bed and brought down a heater. The kids and I spent hours down in that freezing cold garage holding that cat. We named her Stella. She had her kittens. My middle son begged to keep one for his upcoming birthday present. The X relented. We could keep the cat if it stayed outside. We found homes for the rest. But it really bothered the X’s allergies… He made me miserable about that cat. About every cat that had crossed my path during my marriage…

But an interesting sidebar to this story happened recently. My middle son was complaining bitterly about the homewreckers cats at his dad’s house. I was baffled. (You wouldn’t be wrong in assuming that I have a houseful of pets at this point..which includes cats.)

‘Why are you so upset?’ I asked him with confusion. ‘We have cats… You like cats!’

‘Because I remember mom…’ he said quietly. ‘I remember how it was at the old house. How he didn’t want you to have cats. Because of his allergies. It was all bullshit.’

‘You’re right.’ I agreed. ‘It was bullshit.’

Maybe the X didn’t hate cats. Maybe he just hated me. Maybe he loves her enough… Or maybe he has mellowed over time. I don’t really care.  The X left me. The cat didn’t. You can guess which one I like more. Meow.

My Momtourage…

 

image.jpeg

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?!

image

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.

image

 

The Small Town Divorce

image
There are many wonderful things about living in a small town. A sense of community. No traffic. Easy to find a parking space. You can drive anywhere in town in 10 minutes or less! People know you..

Which leads to the not so wonderful things about a small town divorce. People know you. They know your X. They’ve heard your story. They repeated your story. And they may not remember all of the details..but they remember the good stuff. The stuff that they can’t help mentioning when you pop up in their day. “You know her…her husband left her for that lawyer. I heard she totally lost it. So sad…” Every time they see you they will think of your ‘story’. You can count on that. And If you ever move forward enough to forget (which is probably very unlikely anyway)..you can count on them to remember.

In a small town you are guaranteed to run into your X. Usually at the most inconvenient times. When you aren’t wearing makeup and you are wearing your oldest pair of yoga pants for the second day in a row. When you are at the restaurant downtown trying to have a glass of wine with friends and just relax. At the bank. At Walmart. It’s a small town…you run into everyone at Walmart. And when you do have this run-in with your X…it sucks. It’s unpleasant. It’s awkward. It leaves me secretly hoping again that he would just move to fucking Alaska already.

You are also pretty much guaranteed a run in with the homewrecker. This is especially fun. You can count on running in to her on a day when you look like you have been run over by a truck. You are frazzled and busy and not even thinking about it…and boom. You are standing in the aisle at the Shoe Store and there she is. Buying boots. In your size. Perfect. I can’t even buy new shoes! It is literally the worst. I still have the overwhelming urge to pretend I have Tourettes and yell Slut. Loudly. I refrain..but barely. (Or maybe I did yell Slut..but I can’t really confirm or deny that story.) I secretly wish her the plague. I give her my bitchiest look. My defcon 5 laser vision burn in hell look. She looks away..

And for some reason people feel compelled to report to me about my X’s activities. Random facts. Completely irrelevant crap. And it still makes me cringe. This is what I mean when I say divorce is never done. We are linked together..not just to us. Not just to our kids. But to everyone in our small town. I don’t want to know that you saw my X drunk somewhere…or that he is a bad tipper. I don’t need to know you saw him at the football game. I don’t care if he was at a meeting you were at. It’s not my business if you think he is an asshole-I’m well aware of that fact already. I could care less about his mother. He left me. I consciously try not to think about him on a daily basis. I don’t need you to remind me.

So what’s a girl to do? It’s a small town divorce. Perfect your smile nod. Hold your head high and wear your cutest shoes. The good news with the current divorce rate..there will be someone new to talk about soon.

That reminds me..did you hear about Mr & Mrs Nextinline?

And the Dish Ran Away with the Spoon..

image
Old Mother Hubbard was definitely divorced. It’s obvious isn’t it? This woman is living in a shoe. And not a cute one. Oh wait. That’s the Old Lady. The Old Lady Lived in the Shoe. And swallowed a fly? Mother Hubbard had that dog who was kind of an asshole. But they are definitely divorced. And whose dish ran away with that home wrecking spoon? That bitch is definitely divorced. I think the bitch with no spoons is actually me.

Why don’t I have any spoons? Where are they? How did this happen? I imagine that married women have all their spoons. When I was married I had spoons! I can remember a point in my life when I actually counted them after a party to make sure none were thrown away. My X actually expected it. He had a fear of missing flatware. Now as I sit here eating ice cream with a fork..that memory is distant.

I’m a divorced single working mom. There is no time or energy for counting flatware. My children wonder about the spoons. Which is pretty rich..since we all know that they are the ones who lost the spoons in the first place! And of course they ‘don’t know’ what happened to them. So this is our reality. We don’t fucking have spoons. Our socks are unmatched. Our DVD cases are empty. Don’t even ask me for a pair of scissors. You need a lid for that Tupperware bowl? Really? Stop with your irrational demands. And if you ask me for scotch tape I might have to smack you..

I’m outnumbered and tired. And eating peas with a knife seems a skill we all need to master anyway. Divorce has a way of putting things in perspective.

And counting silverware before I go to bed…I’ll leave that to the someone else… I ‘Ain’t got time for that..’ 🍴👠

 

So who says bitter is bad?

image

 

I think I might be bitter.

I mean not overtly bitter..people at work aren’t afraid to make eye contact or anything. Yet. But I have an edge. I admit it. I think it’s a common side effect of divorce. I know you are surprised. But you know what? I’M BITTER AND PROUD OF IT! I’ve earned it. It represents hard learned lessons of life..loss of naivety. It represents survival. Street smarts. Honesty. It says yes- yes I was rejected by my own husband and lived to tell about it. Yes I take out my own trash because I no longer have a man at my house to do it. Its a dose of reality. Like Monday mornings or a flat tire. Or a flat tire on a Monday morning. It’s my own little protective suit…like Iron Man. But it’s not Iron Man…it’s just me.

And why is a little bitterness a bad thing? Does it have to have such a negative connotation? It seems unfair.. The expectation put on us by society to forgive and forget is a bit much in my opinion. Like we are all supposed to be walking around exuding inner peace. Not everyone deserves to be forgiven. And I would be pretty stupid if I forgot. I actually googled this question. Why is bitterness bad? Google doesn’t seem to see a lot of good in bitterness (unless we are talking about bitter food..they apparently are all kinds of good for you. Remind me to pick up some bitter melon..yes that really exists). I mean Google just wanted to talk about how ‘Keep Calm and Bitter On’ may not be my best idea for a catch phrase. She was a complete buzzkill. But I think she is wrong.

I don’t think Google has been divorced…

Shut the Front Door!

image

Some things are universal. Married..divorced..or whatever. You can count on your kids to bring you back to reality. As much as I want to believe I could be raising the future President of the United States of America..I don’t get my hopes up. My teenagers constantly give me subtle reminders that they really aren’t that smart. And I’m ok with that..really. I believe in unconditional love. And I have hope it’s still just a ‘phase’.

#1 My children are incapable of hurrying. They absolutely cannot hurry. Ever. I hope we are never in a fire. It’s like they aspire to be sloths when they grow up. No matter how much time I give them. No matter how many times I tell them. They will not be ready. It’s impossible.

#2 They can’t find their shoes. And they aren’t 3 years old. They have vanished. It is more probable they will find Big Foot and he will be wearing their shoes. Why can’t you find them? Why? Why?!

#3 They don’t know when to wear coats. They have no idea. It’s 11 degrees outside. I shall wear this hoodie. It will be fine mom. Stop worrying. What kind of stupid goes outside willingly-when it’s snowing-wearing athletic shorts?

#4 The can’t figure out how to not be tired. They don’t get the whole bedtime thing. They don’t realize that they hold the power to never being tired again! Instead it is a vicious cycle of not enough sleep around here. ‘I’m so tired I can barely get up. I’ll hit snooze and wait for mom to physically force me from bed.’ ‘I’m so tired when I get home I’ll take a 3 hour nap.’ Bedtime arrives. ‘I’m not tired at all..I’m full of energy! I’m actually going to drink a Dr Pepper and just now start my homework that I was assigned last week.’ Are you freaking kidding me?!

#5 They can’t shut the front door when they come inside. They can open the front door. They can move through it with ease. But they can’t shut it. It’s to much to think about I guess. To many steps..to much pressure. This is why I have had a bat, a bird, and a stray dog in my house. Random strangers coming in for a look. Once a police man checking to see if everything was ok. ‘Yes Officer..we are fine. My children are just idiots.’ Shut the Front Door!

#6 They think ‘I forgot’ is a perfectly acceptable excuse. They use this excuse often. It rolls off the tongue with ease. They are baffled by my irritation. I mean..they forgot. What’s the big deal? Everyone forgets to call their mom back. Or turn in a their homework. To shower.. (And in this same category let’s not leave out the ‘I don’t know..’ Why is there a hole in the wall? ‘I don’t know mom.’ Why is the refrigerator door open? ‘I don’t know.’ Where is the dog? Shrug..)

#7 They don’t realize what terrible liars they are. They expect me to buy their pathetic fibs without batting an eye. Oh, your staying the night with a friend..but they don’t have a phone so I can’t talk to the parents? They must be Amish. Seems totally legit. You turned in your paper but the teacher must have lost it? That must happen a lot. Stupid teachers. You didn’t hear me screaming for help when you were 10 feet away? I will yell louder next time. I mean if your going to lie put some effort into it! Have pride in your work!

#8 They absolutely cannot tell the difference between clean or dirty. Rooms. Laundry. Kitchens. Finger nails. Living room floors. They can’t see it.. They honestly can’t tell. But don’t worry. They don’t mind. They are totally cool with it anyway.

Parenting is hard. It’s exhausting. It’s humbling. It’s humorous..

But let me take some satisfaction in the knowledge that while my kids are at the X’s this weekend and I’m relaxing with friends over a glass of Moscato.. He’s probably searching for shoes while the homewrecker is trying to figure out who forgot to shut the front door.

Cheers!🍷

Just keep swimming..

image.jpeg

The divorce is over..so don’t look back! Just keep swimming. Put one foot in front of other. Focus on the future. Anyone and everyone will jump at the chance to tell you to just move on already. Like somehow I haven’t heard these little tidbits of wisdom before. Enlighten my please Yoda..

I’ve heard the message ok? I get it. But enough already. It’s not that easy! Not every day. It was 15 years and 3 kids. The biggest milestones of my life were in there. Some days I am running full speed ahead- embracing my future with determination and stylish footwear. Sometimes-not so much. I can’t take that kind of pressure.

The days (and sleepless nights) of remembering..of rehashing..do come less often than they used to. But they are still part of my life. And I’m tired of feeling bad about it. I mean who is this super woman who has found inner peace and happiness by never looking back? I don’t think I would like her. She doesn’t sound like my type.. And I think the people passing out these inspiring bits of wisdom might be full of shit. I think they look back too. I think it’s human nature! I assume we have memories for a reason..right?

In one of the Harry Potter movies (don’t ask me which one..) there was a scene where Dumbledore removed a memory from his head with is wand. He was going to share it with Harry. It showed up as a bright light floating there in the air. I was mesmerized. It actually brought tears to my eyes. It was magic! God what I wouldn’t do for that some days (or more likely..some nights..around 4am). It’s not just the memory itself- but the feelings that go with it. The pain and anger..the embarrassment. The loss. I’d love to never revisit those again.

But that’s also where it gets complicated. What if I did magically ‘erase’ all of the bad? Would that be good? I’m not sure anymore. It’s all pretty confusing. I feel like my past is a Rubik’s Cube. If I could just solve it I will miraculously move forward with ease!

I think I just depressed myself with that analogy..since I have never even come close to solving a Rubik’s cube.

I think I’m screwed.