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.