"If only we'd stop trying to be happy, we could have a pretty good time."
- Edith Wharton

Friday, August 19, 2011

Lazy Summer

I know I should apologize for my two-month-plus absence, but I can't. Why? Because this summer has been so much fun that I haven't had time for the usual angst and obsessing that fuels this blog.

So what's been going on? Lots of this:

















Some (but never enough!) of this:

And almost (maybe none?) of the perpetual insanity of last summer. Between the unstable ex, moving, and multiple breakups, last summer was, well, kind of hellish.

So really, I could have done nothing this year and 2011 would still win hands-down. But we've done so much more! The kids and I joined the neighborhood pool club, where we've spent many a post-camp/work late afternoon. Lulu went from needing a flotation vest to swim back in June to jumping off the diving board (in 11-feet water!) last week with no lessons! I took the kids to Chincoteague for a couple of days in June and P and I spent a perfect week in the Outer Banks at the end of July. So perfect that he offered to take me back for my birthday in a few weeks.

He and I feel pretty solid these days. We've gotten better at resolving conflicts before they go too far, so the drama level has fallen considerably. Mostly, we've just been relaxing and enjoying the time we have together without much stress. Certainly no complaints about that!

And even work is looking up -- I just got offered a new role in an entirely different area of my current company after about two years of trying to change jobs. I'm so excited to get a new challenge without having to change companies!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Some Unexpected Things

I don't like to be surprised. Surprise parties? Unthinkable. Pop quizzes? Not a fan. Look, I just like to be prepared. I like to know what's coming and formulate a response. Email is like the best thing that has ever happened to me. Phone calls? Not so much.

I am so determined to be prepared for any possible occurance that I can make myself crazy imagining all the things that could possibly happen in any given situation. As a result, I am almost never surprised.

But the past week held some unexpected events.

First, P is back. No big emotional drama or anything, he just came over last Friday and said he didn't want space any more and now we're together again. I was at least 95% sure that we were done, so this was a big surprise, though a good one. P and I are never going to have the easiest of relationships. I doubt this will be the last break. But I am glad to have him back right now.

Second, I signed up for a community college class. I spend a lot of time complaining about my current career and dreaming of what the next one might be. But I never DO anything about it. Until today. One career I've been thinking about is becoming a marriage counselor. I know, I know, I am not really so good at the whole relationship thing ... and who would take marriage advice from someone who's divorced? Still, I'm intrigued. I seem to be pretty good at giving my friends advice about their marriage problems, and since this interest has lasted more than my standard 3-6 month whims, maybe it's worth a shot. I found a part-time master's program nearby that I can apply for this winter. It requires a course in Abnormal Psychology. So I signed up for one this fall. I'll keep you posted.

Finally, Boo is wearing shorts. Uncoerced! I wasn't sure we were going to get there. He's still rocking the faux Uggs, but what can you do.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Stages of Grief, APGT-style

Oh, I know all about the Kubler-Ross model. My father died when I was 8 and my mother, bless her, dragged me in and out of therapy for a few years before she realized that I was really not getting anything out of it. I was doing well in school and had lots of friends, so I was fine. Except I wasn't. Not that that's her fault, because it isn't. It's just that for a child, having a parent die pretty much fucks you up irrevocably. Google it, it's true.

Anyway, back to grief. It sucks, no matter what you're grieving. Or might be grieving, because I still don't know for sure that P and I are over, but I'm thinking we are. And I figure the sooner I get over him, the better. Yeah, it sucks. A lot.

But here's the good news...
I have a well-tested plan for getting over breakups. It involves lots of magazines, mindless books (and/or TV shows), and bourbon. You can substitute other alcohol for the bourbon if you must, but make sure it's the good stuff. No boxed wines, vodka by the gallon, or what have you. There are two reasons for this (ok, three). One, you deserve the best right now. Two, you don't want to add to your woes by becoming an alcoholic -- I don't know about you, but I am pretty careful with my $50 bourbon (Blanton's, if you must know*). And three, it gives you unbelievable street cred to talk high-end liquor (seriously, ask a bourbon drinker whether he prefers Woodford Reserve or Basil Hayden and see what happens).

Books and magazines are up to you -- in the past, I've gone with the Cosmo/Glamour-types and romance novels, but I found that too depressing. This time I've done a variety of home and garden magazines and six seasons of "Weeds" on Netflix. "Weeds" turned out to be an excellent choice -- single mom dealing drugs, clearly things could be so much worse! I have "Mad Men" lined up next. I'm finding gardening -- previously one of my most-hated chores -- pretty therapeutic. I may not be able to sustain a healthy relationship, but perhaps I can manage roses. Or a not-embarrassing lawn. We'll see how those turn out.

Also, and this one will be a bit controversial, don't talk about it. It helps that I don't really have many friends and that the wonderful friends I do have are busy with their own lives, but I know in the past I have spend countless hours obsessing, analyzing, etc. over breakups and with exH and now with P, I haven't and it's better.

Finally, have some kids. Ideally your own, but if you don't have them already, this is probably not the time. You can't cry around kids, it really freaks them out. So being around kids means you have to pull yourself together at least for awhile. And you can't drink *too* much around them. Plus, and most important, they're funny and fun. Mine are possibly (almost definitely) insane, and they are often (usually) (always) exhausting, but they are an endless supply of hugs, kisses, cuddling, and unconditional love. Who doesn't need that?

*Aside from tasting incredible, Blanton's comes in gorgeous cut-glass bottles with tiny brass horses on the stopper. Each horse is labeled with a letter (the letters spell out the brand) and when you put them all together, they look like they're racing. I'm trying to collect the set; it gives a nice sense of purpose to my drinking.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

The Age of Uncertainty

I'm sure we've discussed this before, but since I can't seem to find the relevant post, I'll just start by saying how much I hate uncertainty. I mean really hate it. Like, if were given a 50/50 chance of dying tomorrow, I'd probably just kill myself today to get it over with. Yes, I know how absurd that sounds. But like I said, I hate uncertainty.

Yet that's smack dab where I find myself these days. I have no idea what's going on with P. A couple of weeks ago, he said we needed to "figure out" some things. After a few days of oddly distant behavior from him with no further discussion, I said it seemed like he was the one with things to figure out and that I would leave him alone until he did. We haven't talked much since then. I guess he could legitimately be trying to figure something out. Or, more likely, this is his passive attempt to break up.

I want to know if it's over and I want to know why. Everything in me is dying to march over to him and launch into some emotional confrontation. But I'm trying to just sit back and wait it out. Because if he truly has something to work out, he needs space. And if, as I suspect, he's breaking it off, what do I have to gain by hearing that out loud? Closure, I guess, but not really. To continue my unfortunate metaphor, it's like dying instantly or over a few hours. Either way you're dead.

As for why ... at first it seemed crucial to know, but now I am wondering about that, too. Does it really matter? If there's someone else, I can't change that. And while I would be hurt, I would also be happy for him, too (really). If there's not, if he just doesn't love me anymore, then I can't change that either. In any case, no matter why it's over, it hurts all the same. No answer he could give would ease that. And I know him well enough to know he probably doesn't have any answers.

I truly love P. He is brilliant and courageous and unconventional and I have learned so much from him. I am absolutely a better person for having gotten to know him. But it has also been a rocky road for us. We have such different needs and expectations from a relationship and frankly, neither of us is all that good at love in the first place. So it may be for the best. I just need to stay calm and maintain the grace I have so often lacked in past breakups and try to remember that while being alone seems scary and sad right now, I used to actually like it.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

If You Can't Stand the Heat ...

So it's been awhile. I could give you the usual excuses ... I've been busy with work, kids, travel, confusing relationships, work issues, insane exes. You know, the usual. I could try to catch you up on everything, but for now I'm just going to tell you a story about Boo.

Boo, as you may recall, is the most wonderful and most stubborn boy ever. And he's pretty serious about his clothes. Specifically, he is very attached to his fleece sweatpants and long-sleeved hoodies and his dark brown faux-Ugg boots. That was great from, oh, October through March. Even into April and early May. But now it's in the 80s here most days and he still refuses to wear anything remotely weather-appropriate. His preschool teachers are afraid he'll get heatstroke. So I have tried everything I can think of, including bribery, forcefully dressing him in shorts, and anything in between. He won't budge. He insists he's not hot even as he's drenched in sweat.

Why does he hate shorts and short sleeves? I think because he can. The kid spends all day every day being told where to go and what to do, what to eat, when to sleep, and which parent will put him to bed. I think he just wants a little control in what must seem like a crazy world full of bossy tall people. I respect this, but I can't let him sweat to death. So we are at an impasse.

Now, I know you are thinking the kid is what? 4? (yes) and who the hell is running the show over there? Get some freaking shorts on that boy already!

Look, I hear you. I think I'm a pretty tough mom when it comes to most things. I insist on pleases and thank yous, I enforce early bedtimes and I'm getting them a piano and I try very hard not to feed them anything with artificial coloring. But it's hard for me to lay down the law when it will crush their spirit. Because no matter how hard I have tried to shield them from the cheating and lying and financial and emotional fall out from the divorce, we've all been crushed enough for awhile.

I try, I really do, but the sad truth is that they still sometimes hear me yelling at their father for whatever crap he has pulled most recently (and let me tell you this last one was a doozy) even when I try to hide in the bathroom. They sometimes even see me crying.

I'm still struggling with this control stuff myself. Every time I manage to get some, something or someone throws me off my game. Again. Like, I finally get to a place where I feel good about me and P and then out of nowhere he's not so sure how he feels anymore. Or, I manage to get my finances kinda sorta good and then exH informs me he's going to let the house we jointly own (but that he's supposedly legally responsible for) go into foreclosure. Wrecking my credit for the next 7-8 years. Awesome.

So what does that mean for Boo? I don't know. I guess I'll just keep pleading and compromising and bargaining and hope he embraces shorts on his own. Or hide all the winter stuff in the attic.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

From the Files of: You've GOT to Be Kidding!

http://www.master-edge.com/biz/pink-has-some-seeing-red-in-j-crew-clothing-ad/

J. Crew designer Jenna Lyons was recently photographed painting her young son's toenails pink. Cute, right? He's a little kid, who cares?

Apparently a lot of people ...

“This is a dramatic example of the way that our culture is being encouraged to abandon all trappings of gender identity,” psychiatrist Dr. Keith Ablow wrote in a FoxNews.com Health column about the ad.


Media Research Center’s Erin Brown agreed, calling the ad “blatant propaganda celebrating transgendered children.”

What? How can a child that young remotely be considered "transgendered"? Sexualizing the behavior of such a young child is, in my opinion, just sick.

Of course, I'm speaking as a mother whose 3-year-old dressed up as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz last Halloween and who, at 4, often wears nightgowns to bed. He also loves having his toes painted and I often oblige. Do all of those things mean he's gay? Or is he just emulating his beloved older sister? Does it matter?

Not to me. I firmly believe sexuality is nature, not nurture, and all a parent can do is love and accept their child. Anything else just makes them feel that something is wrong with them, and gay or straight, no child should be made to feel ashamed of who they are.

It's not always easy. Boo got teased a bit for his Dorothy costume. ExH hasn't always been supportive, and my beloved (and very manly) brother-in-law about choked when I sent Boo to get ready for bed and he returned with a Dora nightgown. (To his credit, BIL recovered quickly and made no comments.)

And then there are the people who surprise me. Like P, another very macho guy, who, when he first saw Boo wearing one of Lulu's dresses around the house, merely commented, "nice dress, man" without a hint of sarcasm. Or a gay coworker in his 50s who teared up when I told him about Boo's costume and leapt up to hug me, saying, "I wish I'd had a mom like you."

So, Jenna, shrug it off, your son is gorgeous and you're a great mom for encouraging his love of pink polish! Want to take the boys for pedicures sometime?

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

A Trip to the Gym = A Revelation

P and I joined a gym this week through our company. I am not a gym person. In fact, I have not had a gym membership in at least a decade. Longer if you don't count gym memberships I paid for but never used. But this one is super cheap and convenient and I need to get back in shape, so I figured I'd give it a shot. We went yesterday, then hit up our favorite neighborhood hang-out for dinner afterward. As we walked to the car, P excitedly asked if we could do this every Tuesday and Thursday (exH's nights with the kids).

We'd planned to join before I read the book I posted about yesterday. But I realized after I dropped P off that it was the perfect choice for our anxious/avoidant relationship. First, while we go there together and hang out afterward, while we're there, we have our own routines, so P gets a little space. Second, it gives us standing plans twice a week, eliminating my frustration of always having to initiate plans. Finally, it's good for us and gives us a shared goal to work toward outside of work, which is especially nice for us since he and I tend to spend more time talking about office nonsense than we'd like.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Read This Book!

While my highlights were being touched up last week, I browsed through Women's Health magazine, which is surprisingly decent. It reminds me of Shape. As I was flipping through, one of those "analyze your relationship style" articles caught my eye. Its bullet-point summary of the "anxious attachment style" nailed me perfectly. And the "avoidant" style was so clearly P. Turns out the article was an excerpt of a book called Attached: The New Science of Adult Attachment and How It Can Help You Find and Keep Love. I whipped out my phone and immediately ordered the Kindle edition.



I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit that I've read more than a few relationship books in an attempt to sort out all my various issues. And while I can find elements of any approach that speak to me, this book is the first one that seemed to get it right.

I won't try to summarize the book as I'd never do it justice. It's a quick read, written very clearly and with lots of concrete examples and clear advice, so I really recommend that you check it out if you have any concerns about your relationship "style". Here are just a few things that jumped out to me...

What I liked best about it is that there is no blame, no talk of emotional unavailability, etc. Your "attachment style" (anxious, avoidant, or secure) is part of your core make-up and isn't easily changed. All you can do is learn how to recognize where it fails you and adapt.

Once I understood my style and P's, it confirmed a few things I've suspected about our relationship. First, we think about the relationship completely differently, which sometimes creates misunderstandings. Second, even though we are totally different, we complement each other in an odd (and potentially unhealthy) way. In fact, the anxious-avoidant pairing is very common. And finally, some of the things about P that make me question his feelings for me actually have nothing to do with me at all. He would be the same with any partner.

There's no cure here, at least not if I stay with P. (According to the authors, I'd do better with someone in the secure or mildly anxious category.) If the book's premise is true, many if not all of the issues P and I have will never be resolved. For instance, he will likely never feel 100% comfortable expressing his feelings for me and I will probably never stop wishing he would. We can only improve our understanding of each other's needs and learn to better communicate them. I'll let you know how it goes!

Friday, March 25, 2011

Lulu Learns an Essential Life Lesson

Here's how most of the little mother-daughter talks between me and Lulu go. "Look, Lulu, I have been through this [insert school problem, sibling squabble, fight with a friend] before and I can save you a lot of pain and suffering if you just listen to my advice." And her responses, while varied, all show that she clearly does not believe that I could possibly have ever been 7, missed a word on a spelling test, fought with my friends, or got irritated at my younger sibling.

But! I have been vindicated! And so thoroughly that she now thinks I am some sort of wise Yoda mother who knows all.

On Monday, Lulu comes home in tears -- tears! -- because some boy at her after-school center likes her friend and not her. And worse this "friend" (who has caused several problems before -- I know I shouldn't hate a 7-year-old, but I kinda sorta hate this one) was now ignoring Lulu.

After some hugs and more tears, I made Lulu sit on my bed and look at me while I told her very firmly that 1. I know this is tough stuff, and unfortunately, it doesn't get any easier and the reason I know this is that I am 36 and still dealing with variations of these issues. And 2. That this so-called friend would come crawling back before the end of the week because I know for a fact that no 2nd grade boy is going to stay interested in a 1st grade girl for more than a few days.

Skeptical, she peered up at me and said, "You don't know that, mama!" But I do, I said. And sure enough, when I picked her up yesterday, she was playing with the girl. I asked what had happened and she said, eyes all big, "You were RIGHT, mama! Chase doesn't want to play with Olivia anymore. HOW did you know that?" I told her, look, Lulu, I know stuff. Pretty much anything that will happen to you has happened to me and I can tell you how it's going to play out. So listen up next time, ok?

Friday, March 18, 2011

The Big Reveal, part 2

And now for a big announcement!

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No, I'm not marrying P (are you crazy??) or pregnant (god forbid). But I did start a new blog and I'd love for you to check it out (especially you random paint color junkies... you know who you are). It's called Amateur Decorator. Come on over and visit! I'll still keep posting my standard life drama here, of course.

The Big Reveal, part 1

So it turns out I chose my paint colors well -- I love, love, love my new bedroom and bathroom. What a massive transformation!

Without further ado, here are the before and after shots.

















































































































































What do you think? It's not quite finished yet. I'm still waiting on new end tables (they're actually Flint metal bar stools from CB2!) and I'm not sure where various art pieces will end up (I think the Escapes print will probably get relocated to the living room), but it's close! Oh, and I did touch up a few things between the time I took the photos and today ... new light switch and outlet plate covers, more panels on the windows, a new sconce above the bathroom mirror.

Now on to the kitchen ...

Where It All Came From ...
Bedroom:
Paint - Benjamin Moore Chelsea Gray in Aura Matte on walls, Sherwin Williams Extra White in gloss on trim and built-ins
Bedding - Dwell for Target
Light fixture - Ikea
"Escape" painting - CB2
Desk - West Elm
White shelving - Ikea
Headboard - West Elm
Gray curtains - Target
White sheers - Ikea

Bathroom:
Paint - Benjamin Moore Sanctuary in Aura Matte
Towels - CB2
Towel bars and knobs - West Elm

Monday, March 7, 2011

The Painters Are Here!

Today is big day. You may recall that I have a slight interest in obsession with paint. Well, my painters are here for round 1 of a two-part painting extravaganza. Part 1, which will take three days, is my bedroom (including the hideous knotty-pine built-ins) and bathroom. Part 2, coming in April (to coincide with bonus time), will be the kitchen cabinets and walls, and the living/dining room, (which my mom, sister, and I painted when I moved in back in July, but the color is just not quite right and the painter is pretty cheap). There's really nothing like paint to transform a space, and somehow it recharges me mentally as well. I can't wait to see how it all comes together -- I've only spent about six months buying sample pots, studying blog and magazine photos, and pondering Moonshine vs Horizon vs Coventry Gray. I went with Ben. Moore Chelsea Gray (a medium true gray -- or so I hope!) on the bedroom walls with White Dove on the ceiling and Aura Sanctuary (a grayish purple) for the bathroom. Now is the moment of truth ... did I choose right?

Obsessing over paint and getting everything ready for the painters has prevented me from obsessing over P. I'm not sure what we're doing. We talked a long time on Tuesday night and I realized something pretty amazing and powerful ... I don't know what I want. And that's ... fine. I get so caught up in not wanting to make a(nother) mistake, not wanting to be taken for granted (again) ... just wanting to get. things. right. that I haven't spent enough time embracing the opportunity I have right now to take my time. There's no pressure on me or P to know what the future holds, no reason to make promises we both know all too well are much easier to say than to keep. I like P and I like having him in my life. The only question is what form that will take. And the only answer (right now at least) is I don't know.

So we've left things at that. We spent a lot of time together this weekend, much of it with my family (the first time he's been around my mom, stepdad, sister, and brother-in-law), and it was fun and relaxed and not weighed down by needing it to be anything more than a bunch of people having a good time. He stayed over Saturday night and it was so much fun watching him interact with Lulu and Boo in the morning. They climbed all over him, he pretended to be a horse bucking them off, I made everyone breakfast and then since it was such a gray, rainy day, we all curled up in my room and watched Enchanted.

It's not always as easy as it was this weekend, but I love (and will try to remember more often) that I am constantly learning. Whether it's a good weekend or an argument, I always come away seeing myself in a new light, with a new insight into some part of who I am in a relationship. Who knows? Maybe someday I will even know what I want.

Monday, February 28, 2011

My greatest triumph

Today, I have been thinking a lot about this quote: "... the most triumphant moments are the days when I have no idea how I'm going to fix anything, but I get out of bed anyway." (It's from this great blog post.)

That's me right now. I have no idea what comes next for me and P -- it seems impossible that we could go back to where we were, and equally impossible that we'll have no relationship at all. We'll have to talk sometime soon ... there are work issues to figure out (does he come on an planned work trip in April? if not, how to explain the change in plans to the others involved?) and the dreaded exchange of stuff. I know I will lose it when I have to clear out my hard-won drawer. Him giving me that drawer meant so much.

I also have no idea what comes next in my career. Here, too, it seems all or nothing -- either I get the new internal position or I start looking to leave the company. As with P, I hope there's an alternative that I just can't see yet. My current company is such a safe place -- I think I'd have to assault the CEO to get fired -- and I need the financial security that it offers. But it's also not offering me the career satisfaction that the type A, first-born overachiever in me craves. And then there's all the history that looms when you've been somewhere for 12 years. You can't reinvent yourself. Plus, there's P.

For now, I am just focused on getting out of bed, getting through the day, and spending time with Lulu and Boo, who have no idea the comfort they provide.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

End of the Road

I think P and I are done. I say I think because we haven't stuck with either of our past breakups, but this time feels different. No matter how much he cares for me, even loves me, he's not in love with me, and I need that. There's no one to blame -- he feels how he feels. It's just not enough. The rational part of me knows there's no hope and that I need to move on. The rest of me? Is absolutely miserable. It's a sad day when you have to put on extensive eye makeup so that when your ex drops off your children, it won't be immediately obvious you've been crying for the last 14 hours.

I hate breakups. I hate starting over. I hate feeling (even more) alone. I hate that I will have to see him every day. I hate that people at work will eventually know. I hate that Boo (and even Lulu) might miss him. I hate that we'll have to somehow exchange all of the belongings we have at each other's houses. I hate how much I already miss him.

This just sucks.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Mud Bath

The past few weeks I've been, well, there's no word for it other than wallowing. Down in the mud like this little guy, though believe me, he looks much cuter than I have lately.

Last time we spoke, it was Super Bowl Sunday (and all went well, even though Lulu and Boo were in top "hey, P's here so let's be as obnoxious as possible" form). But since then, things have gone downhill. Sort of like a mudslide, and not the yummy frozen drink kind.

(Warning: I read some advice today that said blog posts should be around 300 words. This is not that post.)

First, P and I started fighting. Over different stupid things. Last Tuesday it was over a dumb comment he made to a mutual friend about how exH sounded like a cool guy to hang out with. The mutual friend, B, is a tad evil and made more of it than it was, plus we'd all been drinking a little too much and I ended up storming out in tears, then waiting in the lobby of P's building until he came home, then arguing and crying some more (I told you, it hasn't been pretty).

We made up, then went out Friday night for lots and lots of drinks (hmm ... bad pattern already emerging) and had a teary drunken conversation about our future, wherein he said he loves me but doesn't know if he's in love or what that even means. More tears on my part, much consoling on P's. We talked about it more then and a few times since, and he's said he is happy with me and can definitely see a future for us, so I don't really know what to think, but man, it hurt to hear.

Saturday was nice and lazy, cuddling on the couch clutching our coffee. I felt better. Until I went home. And saw poor Boo's eyes, all red and goopy. Awesome, pinkeye. Again.

And then I got the mail. Which contained a bank statement for a joint account that exH and I have to manage the rental of our townhouse. Last month, it contained roughly $4500. Now? $191. ExH, who was not even supposed to have access to the account, let alone a check card, somehow blew through $4300 in less than six weeks. And I can tell you exactly what he spent it on -- booze and a lot of fancy dinners. While unemployed. And not paying a cent in child support. And asking me for money. How did it happen? He claims it was an honest mistake, yet he doesn't have the money in his main account to replacec what he stole spent. My discussions with the bank have been inconclusive. But still. How do you spend $4300 of money that YOU DON'T HAVE and not notice?

It was the last straw and something sorta snapped. I cried. I confronted him. I cried some more. In front of the kids, which I try really, super hard not to do, haunted as I still am from watching my mother just lose it after my dad died. I don't want my kids to feel responsible for me and my well-being, the way I did for hers. And yet, there was Lulu, peeking at me under the covers, pleading with me to tell her what was wrong. Her anxious little face broke my heart. I cried more.

I cried most of the day Sunday too, though thankfully mostly when the kids were otherwise occupied or asleep. I told my mother we weren't up for company when she asked to come over with Valentine's offerings. I let the kids eat popcorn and apples for dinner.

Monday, I made it into work, where I got the news that I am one of five finalists for an internal job I applied for. This might sound like good news to you, but this is for a lateral move that I am highly qualified for according to all involved. But still I am having to compete, American Idol-style, rather publicly for it. It's frustrating. ExH and continued bashing each other over our various crimes (him, blowing through $4300; me, calling him on it). Fun day.

Tuesday, P and I got into another stupid fight. He was in a bad mood, I was (still) in a bad mood (but not drinking at least). He was annoyed that I wouldn't stop whining (fair), I was annoyed that I wouldn't stop whining and also still smarting over the in love/not in love comment. I dropped him off after dinner, ignoring his plea that I at least come up and get my Valentine's gift. Then I went home and cried more.

Now it's Thursday. I'm feeling better. He seems better. The weather is warm and sunny, which always cheers me up. The joint bank account is still empty, but at least exH is moving all his furniture out of my house tomorrow, so I can start preparing for the arrival of my new couch. P and I have plans to see a movie (for the first time in our 13-month relationship!). So perhaps things are looking up.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Wardrobe Malfunction ... in honor of the Super Bowl!

P is coming over to watch the Super Bowl with us. I'm making chili, I've got wood in the fireplace stacked up for a fire, Lulu and Boo are pretending not to be excited that P is coming but have still asked what time he'll be here approximately every 8 minutes ... and I'm nervous.

I'm always a little on edge when P comes over. When it's just us, I think I do a darn good job of being a fun, smart, pretty girlfriend. I'm laid back, low maintenance, and I can give him my full attention, undistracted by sibling squabbles, dirty dishes, or Boo's absurdly frequent requests for food. (Seriously, he eats ALL THE TIME. I eat like twice a day. I don't get it.)

But when P comes here? I'm a mom first and second and being a girlfriend comes a distant third. Which is why I just spent 20 minutes trying on clothes to find the perfect "of course I didn't dress up for the Super Bowl -- that would be crazy -- but don't I look cute anyway?" outfit. Sweats? Too frumpy. Skinny jeans? Too dressy. Yoga pants? Too obvious. I settled for a gray and white striped tee from Old Navy and Gap jeggings (jeggings: great invention, horrible name). It looks casual but (I hope) sexy. After all, the kids can only stay up until halftime ...

I've got to start chopping onions for the chili now, but I've got a new "favorite things" post in the works for you soon. It's been awhile and I've got a couple of things to share (three words: no more vacuuming).

Also, a quick blog note. I've got a new friend -- Singlemommyhood.com! Check out their link on the right side of the page. If you're a single parent, definitely check out Leah and Rachel's site -- it was a life saver for me when I first began navigating the strange new world of separation and divorce.

Finally, while I really couldn't care less who wins the Super Bowl when there are no Manning brothers on the field, I think I'm going to root for the cute, clean-cut QB over the bearded one accused of sexual assault. But that's just me.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

One Down, Two to Go

... Months in my no-clothes-shopping pledge, that is. I can't believe I made it an entire month! There were some close calls, I'll admit, but it's a good feeling to have gotten through January. Just two months to go ...

Not that I haven't bought anything at all. I love Craigslist -- in fact, I may never buy furniture new again! (Well, except for upholstered items. Those I'll still buy new. More on that in a sec.) Why buy new when CL has so many cool pieces for so much less? My latest finds? A Crate & Barrel desk & chair for Lulu ($100 for both) and a pair of super-chic Design Within Reach acrylic side tables ($100 each). Since I sold a rug and a chair (on CL, natch) this month, I'm only out $60.

Lulu's desk
I also decided to splurge on a new sofa with a portion of my upcoming tax refund. I have two couches now -- one is an Ikea sleeper sofa of exH's that I inherited when he moved into a furnished sublet, the other is a small leather couch that he and I bought along with two matching chairs about seven years ago. Both are serviceable and decent-looking, but neither is all that comfortable and both are too small for two people to lay on together.

With depth, comfort, and color (gray is a must) as my criteria, I first settled on the Lounge sofa from C&B. It had everything I was looking for and the price was reasonable. Perfect, right? But something kept bothering me about it. It just wasn't ME. I've always liked furniture with a slight edge to it, something you notice when you walk into a room. ExH's tastes were a little more, um, boring, so we compromised with more basic styles. (Note that I am gradually selling all that stuff and rebuilding!)

But I had no idea what sort of sofa would be ME. So P and I set off for the mall to sit on as many sofas as we could find. And in the second store we hit, there it was. Big, sprawling, yet somehow also classic and chic. A bit pricier than I had planned, but wait ... on sale! And it came in the exact color and fabric I wanted (a pewter microfiber/faux velvet -- easy to clean! soft! gray!). P sat on it. I lay on it. I took pictures of it and jotted down all the key info. Then, following my wait-a-day plan, I went home and slept on it. It will take 3 months to produce (in the USA no less, I feel so patriotic), enough time for me to sort out what to do with the existing sofas (hopefully exH takes one or both and whatever's left gets sold) and collect my tax refund and bonus.

Are you ready to see my new baby? Here she is! (Now imagine her in gray velvety fabric, sans animal prints.)


What do you think? Love it? Hate it? Unclear as to why you should care? Share!

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Of Conflicts and Cats

How do you deal with conflict? Are you passive, aggressive, passive aggressive, somewhere in between? I used to believe I was conflict-averse, but I think I was just afraid of what people would think if I spoke my mind. Now that I no longer give a shit what people think (affairs, divorce, and dating a coworker tend to get you past that fairly effectively, and xanax helps too, not that I am recommending any of those options), I find that I'm pretty comfortable and open with conflict. Most of the time.

I worry about this in relation to other people in my life. P is pretty passive. Not passive aggressive, fortunately, but highly uncomfortable with any sort of conflict. He will do pretty much anything not to deal with it. It worries me because I don't always know when he's frustrated or upset and occasionally that will cause a blowup. I also worry because I think he will never have the balls (or "chilattes" as a friend's 5-year-old son recently called them) to break up with me, even if/when he should. P could be all but married to someone else before he'd get up the nerve to tell me. So, yeah, that could be a problem.

ExH is the poster boy for passive aggressiveness. It comes out in funny ways, like leaving my kitchen a mess every single time he's at my house. Dirty dishes, crap spilled on the counters, odd bowls of half-eaten mystery food in the fridge. He knows it pisses me off because I have told him and asked (nicely!!) if he wouldn't mind cleaning up just a bit. But still, he does it every time. I'm trying to get past it because it's sure better than having him berate me with 12 years of wrongs (real and imagined) that I have done him. And I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the sinister joy of a true passive aggressive gesture. I did somehow end up getting two cats over the past year even though (or was it because ...?) he's highly allergic. Willa (left) and Molly sure aren't telling!

Monday, January 3, 2011

New Year's Reflections, Part 2: A Look Ahead

Now that we've put 2010 to rest, here are a few things I'd like to do better in 2011. I haven't perfected these yet -- you're the first to hear them -- so bear with me. Last year's resolutions -- take the stairs, wash my face, and rise above -- had the benefit of being pithy, memorable, and even symbolic. So this year's have some big shoes to fill.

1. Along the lines of take the stairs, this year I want to drink more water. And get Lulu and Boo in the habit of drinking water more often too. I bought this handy little water system a couple of months ago and I love it! All the convenience of bottled water without the cost or the waste. We've all been drinking more water lately thanks to it.

2. And following the massive success of last year's wash my face pledge, this year, I'm going to brush every night. I know, I know, how did I survive 36 years without regularly washing my face or brushing my teeth every night? It's horrible, so this year, I'm going to get in the habit of brushing every night. I'm already in there washing my face, so it can't be that hard, right? You may be underestimating how lazy I can be at night! But I am optimistic about this one. Hey, maybe next year I'll tackle flossing! Wouldn't my dentist be proud.

3. Rise above, while noble, had limited success. Perhaps I'm just a petty, small-minded person (likely) or perhaps it was just too far-reaching to remember consistently. Who knows. But it's clear that more specific, focused resolutions work better for me. So instead of "just be nice" (a worthy contender for this slot), I'm going to go with "wait a day". That means before I buy anything non-essential, make any major decisions, or embark on any potentially difficult conversations, I'm going to hold off for 24 hours. I tend to be more impulsive than I'd like to be, especially when it comes to shopping and "we need to have a talk" moments.

4. Finally, out of both necessity and the fact that I already own more jeans than anyone should, I'm taking a short-term (90-day) no-clothes/shoes-shopping pledge. I'm putting it here because then I'll feel even guiltier if I break my promise!

Happy New Year!

New Year's Reflections, Part 1: A Look Back

Well, so, 2010. It was sometimes trying, mostly rewarding, often both at the same time. I learned some important, if painful lessons about who I am and who I want to be. And I was pleasantly surprised to note (occasionally) that the space between wasn't as wide as I thought. Before we get too far into 2011, let's do a quick recap of the past year's highs and lows, shall we?
Overall, while 2010 wasn't perhaps the most enjoyable year ever, I can easily say it was one of the most valuable. I'm better for it, the good and the bad. If I had to sum up the lessons of 2010 in one (hyphenated) word, it would be ... self-control. My ability to control how I act and react, and how I choose to see myself and the challenges in my life shape 99% of my mood and outlook. Choosing to be happy, choosing to keep perspective, choosing to view my life in a positive way actually makes me happier. If I could take only one thing with me into 2011, that would be it.