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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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!