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.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
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.
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.
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