Divorce


After my last failed relationship just over a month ago, and in a very late (1 a.m.) moment of weakness, I joined millions of singles and put my love life in the hands of an online dating site.

I’ve done the online “thing” on and off since my divorce, and each time, I tell myself I won’t do it again. Because for the most part, I don’t think online dating works. Of course there are always exceptions to the rules. I had a couple of decent, even (seemingly) good dates this go-around. But in general, online dating blows, and not in a good way.

That’s why I’m asking that the next time I even THINK about joining another site, please, stop me. I don’t care how, just intervene. Pry the keyboard away from my sex deprived hands, take a white glove (picture French gentleman, 17th century), and lovingly smack the shit out of me. And in case I forget to tell you later, thanks.

Riddle me this: What is it about family reunions and holidays? I end up feeling like even more of a loser and failure than I normal do, which is pretty freaking sweet!

Remember last years reunion in Disneyland? Yeah, well, just like last year, there were some good times. And some not so good times. Yes, I crashed and f’ed up my arm (I did end up going to the InstaCare and was put on antibiotics). But we did a lot of fun things such as swimming, eating crap that can only make my ass expand, playing games, feeding horses, catching snakes, etc.

The kids had a wonderful time playing with their cousins, and it really was nice to see everyone. But now that I’m divorced, these family gatherings are the ultimate reminders that I’m the only one who couldn’t hack it. I feel like my nose is constantly being shoved in my shit (aka… my life) and my existence is my punishment. OK OK, that was pretty dramatic and not exactly how I feel, but you get my drift.

I should probably NOT watch my siblings with their respective mates. It doesn’t make me jealous per say, but it does remind me of what I had and lost. Sniff.

But I’m home, alive, mostly safe and sound.

This Mother’s Day, as my kids gave me the cute cards they created, it hit me. It’s me who should be thanking them.

Things I’ve learned from my kids:

  • Acceptance: They accept everyone just as they are. My oldest doesn’t care that his best friend comes from a poor family. He doesn’t mind that one of his friends in school is black. They don’t notice if someone is wearing jeans from Wal-mart or a designer brand. They don’t care if someone talks a little funny, or acts a little weird. They see the qualities in people that really matter.
  • Trust: Maybe it’s the lack of life experience, but it’s a quality I love in them. They trust people even when given a reason not to. Even when I let them down they don’t become jaded or bitter… they move past it and believe in me again.
  • Forgiveness: They are true masters in forgiving and forgetting. They may fight and argue, but they don’t hold grudges. One steals a toy, the other throws a punch. But 5 minutes later, they are laughing and playing together.
  • Love: Being a mom has taught me more about love than any other relationship I’ve been in. From the moment they took their first breaths, the unconditional love that I have feel for them has been indescribable. There is nothing that they could do that would ever change that. They have taught me to love unconditionally and fiercely.
  • Patience: Sitting in isolation in a hospital room for 5 days would be enough to drive anyone crazy. But the way that Emma took it all in stride was truly amazing. She didn’t EVER complain when they poked her numerous times a day to draw blood. She didn’t cry because the nurses kept coming in at night to take vital signs. She hasn’t whined about having to sit still for hours while she receives her i.v. antibiotics at home.
  • Attitude: They have the most positive attitudes of anyone I’ve known. They can take a seemingly crappy situation and see the good and potential fun in it.
  • Fun: My kids can have enjoy themselves anywhere! Even when I’m feeling tired or grumpy, they have a way of making even the most mundane tasks like making lunch fun. They say the cutest things that can’t help but make me smile.
  • Relationships: They have a pure appreciation for the people in their lives. They don’t see people as disposable commodities.
  • Honesty: Sometimes embarrassingly so, my kids are honest to the core. They have not learned to warp the truth to meet sugar coat things or manipulate. If they are hurt, you know about it. If they are happy, you feel that as well.
  • Empathy: When they hear a story about a child dying, they cry for them. At my grandmothers funeral, they softly touched her face and whispered their goodbyes in her ear. And then went over to my sad mother and gave her a hug and told her it would be OK. When they see me upset or grumpy, they are quick to throw their arms around my neck and tell me that they love me.
  • Romance: Being a single mom, and back in the dating shark infested waters pool, they have indirectly helped me to make some of the best choices in possible mates. On my own I may have settled for someone that probably was not right for me. But being a mom and wanting the best for my children has forced me to “weed” out undesirable men (maybe not as soon as I should have, but it’s the result that counts, right?) that I may have otherwise settled for. They have helped me to realize not only what I want and need for myself, but also for them.
  • Selflessness: I believe that it is human nature to (at times) be selfish. It’s not always a bad thing. But being a mom has taught me how to put my own desires aside to accomplish a bigger (and more important) goal.
  • Joy: I remember thinking about what my life as a wife and a mother would look like. In some ways it is very much that way. But many things didn’t turn out as I expected. The years since my children were born have brought many “trials”. But I can say that each and every one of them has taught me something about myself. Most poignantly, about joy. This may be the biggest lesson I’ve learned from my little ankle bitters: Even though it may look different than the picture painted in my head, I am blessed. I feel joy from the simple things in my life. A kind of joy that no car, home, hot tub or job can provide.

By no means do I claim to have perfect children. Sometimes they throw fits. Sometimes they cry. Sometimes they get on my last nerve and test my patience. Sometimes I think about selling them to the gypsies.

But I can with certainty say that I’m better because of them. They unknowingly help me strive daily to be a better mom, woman, lover, friend, ex-wife, daughter, and person. They keep me grounded and enable me to see the big picture. Their existence brings me a clarity and gives my life purpose beyond just living day to day.

I feel blessed to be their mother. I am in awe of their goodness. I pray that I can be the mother that they deserve and hope that in spite of my downfalls, they will become the amazing people they have the potential to be.

This post is dedicated to my children — who have taught me more in 8 years than I could have learned in a lifetime without them:

Time and time again, I have cursed the world of online dating. I won’t go into the gory details of why, suffice it to say that for the most part, I don’t think it works. I’m going to throw out a statistic that has NO support or science behind it whatsoever: You have about a 1% chance of finding love online. OUCH!

Since my divorce almost 2 years ago, I’ve joined a number of sites on and off, which have pretty much yielded the same results: Nothing good.

While I think that meeting people in the “real” world dramatically increases your chances of finding a match that will ’stick’, sometimes all it takes is that 1%. I’m hoping that this one actually happens to be that one in a hundred.

I’m a big fan of the “F” word, although I use it much less than I’d like. If you’re confused about when the best time is to use this word is, take a look at this little tutorial:

As I’ve stated in about 3089 previous posts, dating sucks.

Wanna know what blows even more? Being single.

More specifically, being a 32 (almost 33) year old divorcé (typing that word makes me want to vomit only slightly less than when I say it), single mom with NO prospects sucks. Although I guess when I’ve removed myself from the dating ’scene’, it’s to be expected.

As I lay here alone, aside from Peter and Phoebe (the beginnings of my soon to be cat lady collection), now is a good time to remember all of the GOOD things about being single.

In no specific order:

  1. I can actually get some decent sleep at night. My ex used to snore so loudly that almost nightly I thought about killing him in his sleep. I’m not even kidding. I used to fantasize about smothering him with his pillow. Yes, it might be a little dramatic, but sleep deprivation at 2 a.m. does crazy things to a woman. Now I want to kill him all of the time ;)
  2. No more pubic and/or copious amounts of body hair in the shower.
  3. I get Tuesday & Thursday evenings and every other weekend “off”.
  4. I can eat cereal for dinner and don’t hear the bitching that went a little something like this, “If it’s not meat, it’s not dinner”.
  5. I no longer have to scrub the remnants from his explosive ass off of the inside of the toilet bowl (too much information?).

Ah, fuck this list. Who am I kidding, being single sucks.

Because I KNOW you’re so curious about what’s going on in my life:

  • Back on the running/lifting routine. Which also includes many meals that I’m pretty sure have cardboard as the main ingredients. Oh, that’s called “whole grain”. Delicious.
  • I got sunburned last Monday while working in the yard. It was nice enough that I wore a tank top. Saturday, we got 6 inches of snow. Insert most appropriate expletive.
  • A welcomed return of my “who cares” attitude where men and relationships are concerned, or “love” in general. Ahhh… sweet relief.
  • I’m desperately trying to get ready for the annual “Easter in St. George” trip. And not only do I still have to shop for and pack all the Easter bullshit stuff for my kids, my son’s birthday is on the 22nd. I haven’t gotten ANYTHING for him yet. UGGG! And I still have to pack for myself AND my 3 kids. AND there is a Eater parade/program thing at my son’s school, which is fine, except that I’m short on time (which begs the question…What in the hell am I doing writing this post?). And all I really want to do is take a nap.
  • The seller of one of my listings is an alcoholic. So when agents call to schedule a showing, I can’t cuz he’s drunk at home and the house stinks. SHIT!
  • Despite about one week of serious sleep deprivation (last night was one of the worst), I’m feeling pretty good. A little feisty maybe, but good.
  • My niece (the one bitten by the rattlesnake) is doing well and at home. They expect a full recovery :)
  • I’ve been “tested” a couple of times, and done myself proud.

So wish me well with the preparations for and the actual journey. I hope I survive.

I’m slightly annoyed.

I love being “lectured” about how I’m not doing it right, or my way is incorrect.

Sure, it may be true. Yes, I have a lot to learn. But hearing some smug dip-shit tell me that the way I’m doing my job is lame when all he has is himself makes me want to puke on my… wait… HIS shoes. OK, so I’m big loser! You make more money that me. Congrats.You’re #1!  Here’s my less worthy cell phone to call someone who doesn’t want to punch you in the face.

When you have a home and are a single parent to 3 young children (or a parent at all), we’ll see how you do it, douche bag.

I say these things in the name of Mona Lisa. Amen.

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Explaining your feelings to someone is difficult enough, but when you have trouble dissecting and translating them for yourself, ugggg… it makes me tired.

Something is changing for me. I’m not unhappy, and yet I’m pretty sure that I’m depressed.

A few of my near and dear have voiced concerns. It may be that they see this change, or see something that I’m not even aware of. But it gives me pause. I wonder what is really going on with me. A friend that I haven’t seen in many months even said I looked “down”. And I was so hoping that I was hiding it well.

For example:

I’ve given up dating. And by giving up, I mean I WILL NOT DO IT. I say “no” when asked out. Part of the reason is that I just need a break. Since my divorce, I don’t think that I’ve REALLY taken a substantial break. But beyond that, I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no one that I will connect with. EVER. So going through the motions, taking the time, exerting any effort physically or emotionally where a potential mate is concerned seems, at this point, pointless.

Dramatic? Maybe. But I don’t feel much emotion about it. Frankly, I think I’m probably the least dramatic woman I know. But in the past, where “romance” was concerned, even I could muster a little passion about the subject. Now, I’ve got nothing.

Not a BAD thing per se, but I’ve noticed changes in me with regards to other aspects of my life.

A recent goal (the last year) was to be in a ‘place’ in which I was comfortable with myself. To not always have to have plans, go out, be in or looking for a relationship. I’m there, but it ain’t great. And I have a feeling that this isn’t quite what I originally had in mind. I find myself becoming slightly reclusive. The idea of staying home alone is becoming more and more seductive.

Another issue contributing to my general apathy is seeing life moving on without me. Yes, I know, life is ever changing. But it’s changed so much for me in the past year and a half, that I just want things to stop for awhile. I want to just have a moment of stability.

And as unrealistic and selfish as it may be, I’d like certain people around me to just put their lives on hold and just “chill” in the moment.

I suppose it’s a stupid fear… a fear that while I’m just coasting for awhile, that others will step on the gas and leave me behind. Knowing myself (whatever THAT means), I’m sure that one day I’ll wake up, decide that I’m “ready”, turn off the cruise control and return to the land of the ridiculously hopeful :).

Until then, you’ll find me slowly but surely working on my feline collection in the hopes of someday becoming the most famous cat lady ever.

I survived Christmas. That in and of itself is quite an accomplishment. And I actually enjoyed the day, for the most part. Pretty exciting.

Luckily the day AFTER Christmas brought me back down to earth.

Picture it: A call from the ex-husband telling you that he is moving in with his girlfriend of 3 months. Not a big deal NOR is it any of my business, except for the fact that we have 3 children together. Grrrr.

We discussed the situation and decided (which means that I said it was gonna happen before I allowed him to take my kids overnight) it would be a good idea for me to meet this woman before MY CHILDREN occasionally shack up with her.

So an emergency “I’m moving out of my mom’s house to move in with the woman that I once described to my ex-wife as being “trashy”" meeting was called. The ex and his new female counterpart descended on my home in the evening.

We broke the “news” to the kids… that they would no longer be spending Tuesday and Thursday nights, plus every other weekend, at their most beloved grandmother’s home. A home that they finally started to feel comfortable in and see as their own. They would now be spending a few nights at a “new” house, with Daddy and his new slu… girlfriend.

They took it OK.

Then the adults sat down to discuss things. I’ll spare you the boring details, suffice it to say things went smoothly. It was awkward to say the least. But I kept my cool, and was actually quite well spoken. I was honest and clear about how I didn’t agree with their decision. I let them know that I thought it was too fast to be moving in together, and voiced my MANY concerns. But let them know that I wanted my children to be happy and in a healthy environment, and that I would support them as long as that they could provide it.

In my opinion, the most successful part of the evening was when I actually got a good look at this woman. (Insert a Mr. Burns-ish evil laugh) As much as I’d like to believe or say that I’m above these things, and as petty and stupid as it may be, there was an element of comfort in seeing that she outweighs me by at least 30 lbs and that I’m more attractive than she is :) I’m such a jerk (but a cuter and skinnier jerk)!

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