Losing Myself...

This week I ran away...and it was one of the best things I've done for myself in awhile. I went by myself...I drove...A LOT. I needed to clear my head and get away. Between the packing and cleaning, finalizing the divorce, the headaches that come with buying and selling a house, and a couple of issues that cropped up with the two guys I've dated, I was so far past my breaking point, I couldn't even see it. So when Brian picked up the girls, I took a couple of days off work and took off...a few people know where I was, and that's the way I'll keep it...but I'm feeling better.

Not that things are perfect. My new house isn't going to close on Thursday, thanks to a glitch with the second appraisal that the lender is requiring. It was ordered late, and with the bank holiday on Monday, the odds of even being able to close on Friday are probably not awesome...so as of 4pm on Thursday, I am effectively homeless. That's a shitty feeling, but I am lucky to have a lot of people that love me and are willing to put me up for awhile. I'm praying for a Friday closing, because I'd like to take my girls HOME...last week, that news might have put me over the edge, but since my impromptu getaway, I can ALMOST take this setback in stride.

Thursday is a big day. We have the decree ready to go. We go to have it signed at 8:30, and it's finished. At 3:00, we close on our old house...and I know it will be liberating to close that book. It would be nice if I had a new book on hand, like I planned...but I'll manage. And I will be free as a bird, like I was when I ran away...

All Things New...

Well, it's a New Year, and I'm not too sure about it yet...that happiness of which I spoke? Kind of fleeting, really...I guess that's the way it's going to be for awhile. Not that there aren't things to be happy about, mind you...for example, we sold our house in record time, after only 2 weeks on the market. I have a contract on a beautiful little house of my own, and am hopefully moving in next week. But there is much still up in the air with the divorce decree being finalized and the closing happening on time, and I probably won't know for sure whether or not it will work out until the day before closing...pretty frustrating stuff. Makes for a lot less sleep, that's for sure, and in someone who kind of sucks at sleeping as it is...well...it's been tough. And then there's the whole reality that if I screw this up, it's all on me. That's hard to take...explaining to the girls why we need to move, and how our budget is going to change a lot is no picnic, either, though they've taken everything in stride, just like they always do.

Oh, and N? That was Nick. He could be pretty selfish when push came to shove, and he hurt me. The worst part is, I bought it all, hook, line, and sinker. I know he was just a silly almost-boyfriend, and there will be others...but how do I overcome the loss of respect for myself? I know I needed to learn this lesson...but so soon after what I went through at the end, when I'm still dealing with the fallout of THAT nearly every day? It hardly seems fair...instead, it just seems like the mountain of shit I'm supposed to conquer just keeps getting taller and taller, and I'm not making ANY progress in climbing it...N taught me not to trust...or he reinforced it, anyway. Now I'm so afraid to open up and put myself out there, I'm starting to think I may as well just join a convent...

Little blessings have popped up in unexpected places, though. I realized some people are better friends than I ever imagined...and also a couple of people who maybe aren't as good as I thought. I am slowly but surely learning to be content with myself, just as I am...but am still secretly hoping that Mr. Darcy is out there waiting for me somewhere...Mark Darcy would be okay, too...since the others turned out to be more like Daniel Cleaver. I am trying to learn how to JUST BE STILL, like a good friend once told me. Just be still, and wait, and the answers will come.

That's all well and good, but could someone give me an idea of when I might expect them?

The H Word...

It's no secret that the past two years have been the hardest of my life...everything I knew has been turned upside down. I've been pretty quiet about most of it, because that's how I process things...but today is the first of December, and it's an eventful one at that. It seemed like a good time for an update of sorts, so bear with me while I stumble through this mess that is my life.

First, although I'm pretty sure I have yet to utter this sentence aloud, let alone commit it to writing, it's not exactly a secret. Brian and I are getting a divorce. While I've had some time to get used to the idea, it's still very strange on so many levels...I married B at 21 after dating him for three years. I have never had a Christmas on my own as an adult. I'm turning 35 this month, and I won't be getting a present from him for the first time since my 18th...I'm essentially having to redefine my whole life, and to some extent, I'm making it up as I go. Trying to figure out who I am in the singular tense has been hard...of course, I have the girls, so I only exist in the singular tense 12 nights per month.

The girls are doing well, and are adjusting to the changes far better than I am...we'll see if that holds true after we move. The house is on the market, effective today. I'm looking to buy in the same school district we're living in now, but this is a tall order in Edmond, at least in my price range. Hopefully it will work out...they've had enough changes, and I pray I can spare them this one.

My friends have been amazing, and I am so very blessed...but it's getting a little harder, with everyone busy for the holidays, and me considerably LESS busy than I usually am this time of year. Sometimes the house is too quiet. Last month, when I had an article deadline, I simply couldn't write it at home. I kept starting, and just wasn't getting anywhere. I ended up going to O's and sitting at the bar with my laptop. Nancy was great--she got me a glass of wine and left me alone, and I pounded the editorial out amid the background noise in less than two hours...this is the new normal.

I've dated a handful of guys, and that has defintiely been interesting...no one tells you the rules change so much over the course of 16 years, but they do...and it's not always fun. Marriage is infinitely harder, but dating is no damn picnic, either...it's not for the faint of heart. And you know what? I am utterly terrified of being hurt again. I'm already a little broken, so why would I want to open myself up to the possibility of being shattered beyond repair?

Because it's what you do. Life doesn't come with a guarantee. Which brings me to my other bit of news...I'm seeing someone, and it's going really well. For now, we can just call him N...if it gets more serious, I'll give him the rest of his name. We've been dating for a couple of months, and I love hanging out with him...he's sarcastic and funny, and he makes me laugh all the time. I have a few years on him, and he likes to tease me about it sometimes, but it doesn't really bother either one of us. He's smarter than I am, and as such, I get away with next to nothing, but it's fun to be kept on my toes. But I think I just said the keyword here...fun. He's a lot of fun, which makes him exactly what I need right now. I have a great time with him, and he's a great guy, and he makes me happy...

That's right. Happy. My first Christmas on my own, my first birthday as an adult without a husband, my house on the market, my world turned on its side...it's taken awhile, but I can say it now. I'm happy. I'm on my own...and I'm doing just fine, so bring on the holidays. I can take it.

Looking for a Light...

Sometimes, a blessing comes when you least expect it. When things can't get worse, when it seems like nothing could ever be right again, when you can't get your head above water...there it is. Today I saw it happen to a friend, and I got to smile at his good fortune. Sometimes good things just happen to good people. And even if you're still in the dark, some of that light is going to shine on you, too. At least, I hope so! Cheers!

Silly Girls...

Everyone is asking how the girls are faring, and I'm happy to report that they're doing very well. In fact, in many ways, they haven't missed a beat. It's taken me a lot longer to adjust to having them gone more than it has them...and they are right back to being their formerly feisty, funny selves.

Last week, I caught Sara singing "It's Raining Men" to herself while she was doing her homework...and she knows every word. This afternoon when she got home from school, she came in, dropped her bag, and announced, "I'm feeling a little stressed out this afternoon. I think I'm just going to spend the next hour relaxing on the couch." Roger that...second grade can be very stressful, indeed.

Emily is VERY caught up in the state of being known as Middle School Girl. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this phenomenon, let me fill you in on exactly what it entails:

1) They are only 11, but they want to be 17.
2) They make an attempt to act like they're 17, but they're really 11- and 12-year-olds...and it's obvious.
3) If you give them a cell phone, they may be inclined to TEXT you from across the table at a restaurant instead of speaking to you in public.
4) Justin Bieber.

That sweet little girl you raised? She's gone on a very long hiatus. You can hope that she will visit from time to time, but in the meantime, in her place you may find a very tall, slightly awkward person with boobs who resembles her. This girl knows everything there is to know about the universe, so there is no need to offer her your opinion about anything. (If you do, she will find it ridiculous and will immediately begin texting her friends about your childish notions.) On the occasions when she actually ASKS for your opinion, use caution, as it may take on the following form:

Emily:  Mom, the guy with the locker next to mine won't stop hitting on me, and I'm not into him. What do I do?"

Me: Ummmmmmmm......errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.....what???

In this situation, when you are rendered ridiculous, it is actually true...let the exasperated texting begin...

Lost and Found

I haven't been writing, because I am not particularly funny, and I'm guessing those of you that come here are looking for funny. Funny girls don't get left behind...not them, or the pretty ones, either, right? Wrong! Sometimes they do...and suddenly life is unrecognizable. Don't get me wrong, it's going to be okay. I'm not exactly afraid to be on my own...I know I'm capable of it, and I know I'm strong enough for it, especially with my beautiful girls to keep me on my toes and my amazing friends loving on me...but it's intimidating. Not only was my last first date in 1995, but neither Mad Men nor True Blood returns until 2012!! What am I going to do with all that time, nearly half of which I'll be spending alone?!  Probably NOT being very funny for awhile...maybe this would be a good time to take a stab at technical writing...

So bear with me, folks, while I try to find my smile again...I promise it'll come. In the meantime, if I could borrow yours, that will help me get by...

Thursday Night Sorrow (Ode to Lee)

I don't know how many people out there are still reading me...judging from the recent lack of commentary, I'm guessing not very many...but to whomever IS out there, bear with me today, because I'm feeling a little bit broken-hearted and sentimental.

For the past couple of years, Thursday nights have been Girls' Night Out with some of my close friends. Not every week...but every other Thursday or so, a handful of us thirtysomethings (and sometimes Krystal) would line up at the bar at Othello's around 8:30 or 9 and close the place down with our trusted and much-beloved bartender, Lee. We drink wine and share appetizers and catch up with each other, often discussing our kids and relationships and what's happening in the world. Sometimes there are just 2 or 3 of us, usually 5 or 6, though we've had as many as a dozen. However many we numbered, Lee was always waiting for us with a smile, and he knew to put our water in cognac glasses to make it pretty. He always put extra cherries in my club special and knew how I liked my pizza. When our wine glasses approached empty, he would quietly appear in front of us, raising an eyebrow in question. With a nod or a shake of the head, he would refill the glass or bring coffee, without making us so much as pause in our conversation. We flirted shamelessly with him, both individually and en masse, and he would smile and blush, which made us laugh...but he always took our teasing in stride. Sometimes he flirted back, but he was always careful to toe the line and remain appropriate--at least reasonably so. He didn't talk much, and what little we knew about him, we had to drag out of him, but every once in awhile he would open up and throw his two cents into our chatter. Best of all, when our husbands or boyfriends would show up at our sides, he would treat them like old friends, but never uttered a word about our sometimes personal Thursday Girl talk. I can honestly say, he understood what was sacred.

Today, I found out our Lee is moving on, and I know I'm not alone in my sadness. He tended to us well, and will be sorely missed by us all. Thursday nights won't ever be quite the same!

Texts From Last Night...

Okay, so it was actually only this afternoon. I received the following text (which came across as 11 texts) from a disgruntled, fed-up, single but beautiful girlfriend of 26:

I need you to tell me that I am not going to die a dog lady...and that one day, a wonderful man will come along who doesn't bug the shit out of me, isn't jealous or insecure, doesn't overuse the phrase "check it out," has a real career, doesn't have to regurgitate movie lines just to have something to say, can go out without getting obliterated, wouldn't even dream of going tanning, doesn't comment on how much everything costs (especially when he takes me out), will pick the f*cking restaurant once in awhile, because if you don't we are going to Mahogany, doesn't feel the need to flex his arm if I brush up against it, doesn't wear size schmedium shirts that he constantly has to tug at the sleeves on, understands that "babe" is not to be used until a minimum 6 months of steady dating and maybe not even then or EVER, understands that my house is not an all-you-can-eat diner, knows the brand of his shirt need not be emblazoned across his chest in 4 inch letters, will not put his GD shoes on my furniture, knows that half-dead roses are lame, especially when I made it easy and said I like TULIPS (but wait, they don't sell those at Homeland), realizes that yes, my dog is cuter than your leg-humping laborador, and knows that the beer I buy is expensive, so don't drink it all every time you come over and not offer to replace it. While we're at it, jackass, who the hell taught you grammar? "Your" is not the same thing as "you're!" No one cares that your favorite movie is Dumb and Dumber--in fact, keep that to yourself when you're around my friends. It wouldn't kill you to make plans in advance, and it would be nice to get picked up and not always have to drive. Oh, and hey, guess what? BICEP is not the only muscle group, so my calves shouldn't be bigger than yours. Why the hell are you still sleeping on a futon and having your mother do your laundry? Sorry, that got a little more direct there at the end, but it felt great...I think I need to quit dating. The water is getting stale. Maybe it's that green algae.

Oh, honey...I may be older, but that doesn't mean I'm wiser...nevertheless, I offered the following:

You will NOT die alone. You will not be a crazy dog lady. That man exists, I just don't know where to tell you to find him...but it probably isn't at a bar. He likely needs to be at LEAST your age, or close to it. He might need to have learned a few things the hard way. You don't need to swear off men entirely, just those that are underemployed, undereducated, those with roommates--especially if the roommates are his parents--and those who get drunk more than once a week. He has to be at least as witty as me, and text with punctuation and without excessively abbreviating. Hang in there. I love you and would snap you up myself if I had the proper anatomy.

Good luck to you, K. I'll keep my eyes peeled...

Sara's Christmas Luau

Sara has more imagination in her pinky toe than most people could ever even wish for. Since we got back from Colorado, she's been complaining incessantly about the heat. Granted, it IS miserable...but as I pointed out to her this afternoon, there's nothing I can do about it, and complaining doesn't seem to be helping matters...a little later, I ran out to the store and returned to find she had put up signs all over the house. Christmas Festival Tonight! Join us for a Christmas Luau! Emily had applied reindeer makeup and dressed her up, and I was selected to introduce her as our master of ceremonies.We sang carols and played games, and Sara kept us giggling nonstop. She decided to simply THINK cold...and I, for one, think it helped! :)

Mommy, Can We Talk For a Minute?

This phrase, when uttered by my elder daughter, now has the power to still my heart...but when I hear it from my sweet, happy second-grader, I typically don't worry that much...until now. Sara's somber appeal early this morning led us to the living room love seat while the house was still quiet, where she explained that she had a crush on a boy from her first-grade class. "How do I get him to notice me when school starts if we're in different classes?"

As if he could help it, I think with a smile. But I do my job and keep a straight face throughout this discussion. I explain that there's still a chance she could wind up in the same class as Hank again, but if she didn't, the best strategy at her age was to simply talk to him and become his friend.

"But what do I say?" she asks.

I tell her she can't really script their conversations, but a good starting point would be to go up to him on the playground and ask him how his summer was. I suggest she ask questions about his family and what he liked to do to get to know him better.

At this, her brow furrows slightly, and she looks up at me, clearly puzzled.

"Wait...do I have to actually listen to his answers or can I just ask the questions?"

Good luck, Hank...

Heat Wave...

It's 105 degrees today. Yesterday, it was 107. No kidding, that's actually the temperature, not the heat index. The heat index is somewhere north of 115, making sitting still indoors the only suitable activity for any reasonable family. I'm making two pitchers of lemonade per day and cooking as little as possible...and as a result of the heat wave, I've been watching a lot of movies with the girls. Last night, Sara announced that she'd "always wanted to see Gone With the Wind." Always. As in all 7 years of her existence....sure...okay. And so, after a brief warning regarding the violence that took place during the Civil War, I downloaded the epic on Netflix and we began watching. Both of them were immediately enthralled. Sara was very concerned about the slavery issue--rightly so--and a history lesson ensued. But she instantly took a shine to Scarlett, telling me she was "one cool chick."

Emily was interested on a more mature level, of course, asking whether the book would be appropriate for her to read at this age and marveling at what a feat it must have been to make such a film in 1939. At the end, she announced, "That was actually excellent!" Grandma is going to be pleased...

Today, it was Father of the Bride, the 90s version with Steve Martin. Again, the girls dove right in, laughing hysterically at Frank the wedding coordinator and dad's exaggerated reactions to spending money on the wedding. Following one such scene, Sara turned to me and pointedly asked: "So exactly how much are you willing to spend on my wedding? I'd like to have an idea of the budget going in."

I laughed, and suggested with a wink that maybe she won't get married, and will stay with me forever instead. She looked pityingly at me, and put her hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Mommy. I'll wait until I'm at least 20."

Something tells me I'll be offering her money to elope...

The Referee

It's been awhile since I wrote anything...I would like to say that's because things have been smooth sailing...but that would be a bit of a fabrication. With the long-anticipated advent of summer vacation comes a new title dreaded by moms worldwide: Referee.

Tonight, as I was chopping onions, Sara trudged into the kitchen and sadly announced, "Mommy, I could use a little advice. Emily is getting meaner by the day, and she just isn't the sister I've grown up loving anymore."

Now what mother in the universe could ignore this kind of appeal from her seven-year-old? Only one without a soul, I tell you. Plus, I had been listening to their bickering for days, and thought it best to seize the opportunity and consider it a teaching moment. So I encouraged her to tell her sister how she felt, and called Emily into the kitchen, where I had them both sit down at the table. Sara repeated her concerns to her sister, who angrily responded, "well, you've been Little Miss Sassy-pants yourself lately!" I reminded them to watch their tone and be respectful. Emily then calmly told her sister that it hurt her feelings when Sara refused to let her play with her Zoobles, even though she wasn't using them, and that's what made her mad. I agreed that it seemed like an inconsiderate thing for Sara to do. Sara's response? "You know, I think we're getting a little off-subject here..."

Although I was able to briefly negotiate a truce, within a half hour they were screaming at each other again. After a couple of warnings, both girls were sent to bed without dinner, which is actually a first for me. At present, Little Bit is fast asleep. Emily is crying quietly, lamenting her general lot in life and the horrible, evil mother she was cursed with...and I am still in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine while I pack up leftovers.