And just like that, the papers were signed.

It’s over. It’s finally over. It has taken ten long years to get to this point, but my divorce is finally over. Spent an entire day in court last week, but it’s finally over. And it’s kind of sad.

While we were sitting in the courtroom waiting to be called up, The X looked over at me and said, with tears in his eyes, “It’s kind of sad.”

He was right. It was kind of sad. But we both ultimately knew we didn’t want to be with each other anymore, and that proved true by the fact that both of us had already moved on to other relationships. It didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends. It didn’t mean we had to stop coparenting RJ. And it didn’t even mean we had to stop talking. But I totally understood what he meant. And as I drove away from the courthouse, I cried too.

I’ve written about this before, in a previous post about the divorce being final, but now that it’s actually happening, the feelings are much stronger. And I don’t think I was prepared for that.

There will always be a special place in my heart for The X, simply because we shared a lot of years together, and have a son together, but, ultimately, I know we’re both glad to be rid of the other. At least in marriage.

Here’s to hoping my next marriage brings on happier times.

Marriage.

“Marriage is harder than parenting. We have this inept and unconditional love for our children that is just there. Marriage is work. You must reinvent and change as time and life changes you, and you must do it together as one. Really, it’s a very long three-legged race on a rocky trail. Marriage is compromises beyond your imagination. Marriage is forgiveness ahead of pride. Marriage is humbeling. Marriage is a beautiful privelage and should not be taken lightly. Be honest with yourself before taking the leap. Its not a leap of faith…this is a concious choice. There should be no doubt, no uncertainties, no banking on potential. Marriage is part of who you are. It’s a sum of two people. You should move, act, and behave as one. Marriage should be the most unselfish thing you do, besides being a parent.”

This quote came from a blog post of a friend. It speaks volumes to what I’ve been feeling lately.

Over a week ago, The Ex and I signed the final divorce papers that will officially end our marriage. It’s been a very long ten years waiting for this moment, but it’s finally here. The papers have been sent off to the judge for signature, so in six to eight weeks, we’ll get them back and be officially divorced. It’s the greatest feeling ever.

So why do I feel so afraid? Why do I suddenly feel vulnerable and naked?

The first person I dated after The Ex and I split up, was Jeffy. No matter how many years we spent together, and how close we got, there was always a safe barrier that stood between us. It was my marriage. I was still legally married in the eyes of the law, so knew that our relationship could never turn into anything more concrete. I felt that same sense of safety from that barrier once SS and I started dating. Now that my barrier is gone, I feel a little scared. I feel that I don’t have anything holding me back anymore, and the thought of possibly getting married again some day, scares me.

SS and I have been together for three years now. In those three years, we’ve moved in together, taken vacations with each others families, contributed to each others children, and created a life intertwinded with each other. It’s a life we have created together, through a rollercoaster of emotions, both good and bad.

Unquestionable love. Compromise. Forgiveness. Unselfishness. All the things of which a marriage should be. And all the things I’m scared to completely give in to.

As I walk through this new chapter of my life, I hope that my fears aren’t so overwhelming and that I learn to embrace the vulnerability of being divorced.

 

Saturdays without NASCAR are okay too.

My last day of housesitting was today. I expected to spend it sitting on the couch staring at the NASCAR truck race on television while cuddling with this poodle…

Which would have been TOTALLY fine with me.

Instead, RJ wanted to hang out. And that was even MORE fine with me.

BFF@work told me about this place where you can play miniature golf in the dark (think black lights), so The X and I agreed to meet up there so RJ could have a little fun.

 

 

 

After all that excitement, we decided to eat. Milkshakes and burgers for everyone. :-)

 

THEN y’all, he wanted to go to the park and show me how he was learning to ride a bike. So, we went.

AND HE FINALLY LEARNED HOW TO RIDE!

Soooo excited!! (Proud Mama moment.)

He was a little apprehensive about riding down this curb, but he did it. Slowly. (Even at 11yrs old, things can still be scary.)

Super fun day.

Tomorrow, NASCAR from Martinsville. Go Kyle. #18

Saturday

I love Saturdays.

Sleeping in later than the time I get up during the week, is awesome. I wish I could do it. No matter what, I’m awake before 8am. What’s up with that? I laid in bed this morning, tossing and turning, trying to comfortably place my head so that my neck didn’t hurt. I turned on the television, since it usually is something that relaxes me and helps me fall asleep, but all I did was stare at SpongeBob and wonder How in the hell did this stupid sponge become so popular?

I had a movie date with my son today. (I definitely will be reviewing that movie. Stay tuned…) And because I’m such a fabulously fantastic person, I invited his dad. Yes, The X and I sat in the same movie theater, together. And you know what? WE DIDN’T FIGHT! We didn’t even say mean things. He even helped me with a car issue I’m having.

I officially harbor no ill will or hate towards The X.

I think I have felt this way for a while, and in fact might have given that impression to JK at one point, but never actually had the opportunity, or even the need to say it. But today, I’m saying it.

I remember the day I burned this bridge. It was horrible. I then tried to cross it a couple of years later, only to find myself face down when the bridge ended. I worked hard to rebuild it, so naturally I’m thrilled to be able to cross the bridge without falling off the edge. I built it strong, and I will not let anyone or anything tear it down. No earthquake can make this bridge tumble.

Saturday. I love Saturdays. :-)

Here fishy, fishy, fishy.

Growing up, we always had a fish tank. The sounds were soothing and seem to put me into a relaxation mode only brought on by running water. (Waterfalls do the same? yes. Running sinks and toilets? Not so much.)

When The X and I moved into our first place, one of the first things we had to do was get a fish tank. It was the smallest of the small, but it didn’t matter. I just needed the relaxation.

When RJ was born, I requested we get a larger fish tank. I knew I was about to undergo a huge life changing event, and having a little bit more of something that helped me relax, was never a bad idea. So larger we went.

When The X and I moved from Texas to California, a fish tank was not something we were going to attempt to bring along. Dad had a big 100-gallon tank, and was more than happy to give it to us. Anything to keep his oldest daughter relaxed and not crabby.

It’s been seven years since I’ve been the owner of a fish tank. Seven long years. I don’t have one in this town to visit. I don’t have friends that have them in their house. And I’m not even sure RM#1 would even allow me to entertain the idea of having one in our house. But eventually, I’ll own another one. It’s just who I am. And maybe it’ll be a really cool one. One built into a divider wall. Or built into my bathroom sink or living room coffee table. Who knows? Just maybe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Story

July of 2005 was supposed to be the happiest month of my life thus far. It was supposed to be filled with summer swimming, warm nights in the park, fun in the sun, sleeping in late, and my son’s fifth birthday.

Here’s the cute birthday invitations I made up…

We were going to have a big party at Chuck E. Cheese’s. Friends and family were all invited to celebrate him turning the big F.I.V.E.!

A few days ago, I talked about my laptop being sick. I ended up having to replace the hard drive. (Yay for bigger and faster.) While going through some very old files on an old disc I found, I accidentally stumbled upon something I’m sure I was never meant to see. It’s a story, written by my oldest stepdaughter, of the tragic events that led to the removal of me from our home, just days before my son’s birthday. It was the story of a scared mom, who robbed the innocence of a five year old boy, and two teenage girls.

I saved the Word document on my desktop. It’s been two days, and I’ve opened it and read it about 30 times, and every time I do, I’m caught wiping the tears before I can get to page two. Reading the heart wrenching details, as seen through the eyes of a then 14 year old teenage girl, makes reading it even harder. I try to read it as if I’m a third party, but when the words become actions, a cold chill runs through my body and I feel as if I’m standing in a corner of the room watching everything unfold. And let me tell you, that seeing the pain and extreme fear in the eyes of the children you’re supposed to be protecting, is the worst feeling that could be placed upon me. All the days/nights/weeks/months spent in a jail cell, crying to get out, don’t even come close to the sadness I feel when I see the uneasiness in my son’s eyes today, six years later.

There are a lot of things about that day that I’ve been able to come to terms with. I was given the chance to apologize to The X last year, and although I’m not certain he took it as such, I have been able to let that part go. I feel I did what I could to show I was sorry. Being able to sit down and apologize to his two daughters is not something that will probably ever happen. They don’t want anything to do with me, and I honestly can’t say I blame them. I’m totally okay with it. I just wish they knew how different I am today. I just wish they knew how sorry I was for what I did and what I caused them to go through.

And on that note, I will say…Change can be an amazing thing. It allows people to start over and become the person they WANT to be, not the person they were raised to be.

“How did you get into cars?”

Someone asked me the other day how I got into cars. Hmmm, I thought. I guess it was because of The X.

When I was born, my Dad was driving a 70 something Mustang and my Mom was driving a 70 something Dodge Dart. My dad was not into working on cars. He did basic things if necessary, but never was what I would consider a "car guy". Mom? Ha. She can't figure out how to move the seats back and forth, let alone know anything about working on a car. Rocker arm? Isn’t that what my rocking chair has?  Oh, brother!

I remember playing with Hot Wheels as a kid, imagining I was the stunt driver driving the cool 18-wheeler on it's side around a corner that would have never actually been possible. Or the girl driving the bright yellow Ferrari. I wanted to be Bo Duke driving a '69 Charger through the streets of my town. (Imagine my surprise when I heard that one of my friends, the one that just had twins, got a '69 Charger.)

During my preteen and early teen years, my parents used to take LZ and I to the local 1/4 mile circle track on Friday nights. We used to cheer for Ron Hornaday. Yes, THE Ron Hornaday. I remember the night they announced he wouldn't be returning because he was moving to the NASCAR Winston Cup Series. When the Northridge earthquake happened in '94, they deemed the stands at the track not safe, and no more racing has taken place there since. My interest in cars died.

During high school, I dated a guy that drove a '65 Mustang, but he wasn't a "car guy". He just thought it was a cool car so he bought it. I can remember ditching school to go surfing. Car looked sexy with surfboards on top.

When I met The X in '98, he was a college student paying his way through school by working on cars. I used to hang out with him at the shop, and as miserable as it was in the South Texas humidity, I loved every minute of it. I'd finally found my “car guy". After nine years, and lots of car stories later, our divorce was started and I'd lost my car guy.

By this time, I was heavily into NASCAR, which is something The X never seemed to be thrilled about. No matter how much I tried, I think he just didn't get it. He didn't understand that there was actual strategy to what they do. He didn't understand that it's not just a bunch of guys going in circles. Okay, it's a little bit about guys going around in circles, but still. It's more than that. Truth be told, I think he just didn't like it because it interrupted his football games.  Boo hoo.

When I met JK, he was a high school auto shop teacher. As I did with The X, I'd spent countless hours just hanging out with him at the shop. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the company. Maybe it was the smell of gasoline, oil, and Brake Kleen that kept me there. It didn't matter. I lived an hour and a half away, and no matter how late it got, I didn't care. I just wanted to be there, where the cars were, where all the magic was happening.

Today, I don't have either The X or JK to hang out with while they work on cars. Actually, neither of them work on cars anymore anyway, so probably no loss there. However, it is the fond memories of laying under the car with aching arms as I tighten bolts, and standing under a car on a lift not expecting anything to drip from underneath, only to be covered in transmission fluid seconds later, that make me smile and wonder where my next “car guy” is.

Now where's that AAA guy I was flirting with a few weeks back?

Mommy Is Back !!!

I want to mix up a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies or chocolate cupcakes together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I want to watch over you while you play games on the computer.

 

 

 

 

 

I want to sit next to you while you read a book and tell me about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I want to sing and giggle with you while you’re brushing your teeth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I want to laugh as one of the 7 dogs at my house licks the ice cream I just bought you from the ice cream truck.

 

 

 

 

Today, I experienced one of the greatest feelings in a woman’s life. The day my son was born, was the single most fantastic day of my life. Hands down. Today, I felt that same feeling x1000 without even having to give birth.

This morning, I sat in an office room with The X, and listened to him give a list of reasons why I shouldn’t be part of RJ’s life. Then, by some grace of God, like someone swung through the air on a vine and dropped new pre written index cards in his hands, he finally agreed that RJ’s life would be even better if I was a part of it. ThankyouDearLord. This is the same thing I and a number of others have been telling him for longer than I even want to admit, but today, he looked me in the eyes and saw the emotion as I spoke of how much I wanted things to be different, and listened. I saw the change in his posture. I saw the direct attention I got from him, and felt the exact moment it happened. It was a connection we hadn’t had in over 10 years, a familiar feeling that let me know he understood what I was saying.

And to add to all that excitement, my divorce will be final in 8 days. Woo hoo!!

An apology

I never understood what people meant when they’d say things like Time will heal or The older you get, the wiser you become, or When you grow up, your “important” and “not important” lists change. Drastically. I pretended I understood by nodding in agreement, but I secretly had no idea.

A few days ago, I sat down and thought about all the things in my life that make me unhappy. Guess what I found out? All the things that make me unhappy, make me unhappy as a result of something I had once done. You’re actions will get you into trouble one day is something I heard more than a few times all through my twenties. It haunted me at night, but it just seemed I couldn’t get away from that dark cloud I had created, that seemed to hover over me all.the.time. I tried to fight it, but just the other day, I realized it wasn’t something I could fight. Something had to change. And I was determined to make that change right then.

I said out loud in a soft humble voice, “I want to apologize to The X, for not being the best wife I could be.” No matter the circumstances surrounding our seven years together, and whether I believe he deserved some of it or not, I still shouldn’t have said or done certain things. It’s been 5½ years, and I’ve finally forgiven myself. I’ve stopped blaming myself. I’ve stopped taking all the responsibility. I’ve stopped holding a grudge. And it leaves me feeling amazing. I guess I’ve just gotten to a point in life where I’ve realized that continuing to make myself miserable by hating The X, just isn’t worth it. Tomorrow I will sit in a room with him to discuss our son. I’m ready. I’m prepared. And I’m looking forward to it.

Letting go is making me a much happier person.

 

The Mouse Cord

For seven years, I complained about it.

The mouse cord that sat attached to his desktop computer, was always being held down by a heavy item (speaker, stapler, book, etc.). I hated it. I used to move it off, so that I would have free range of the mouse when using his computer. When I was done, I would usually forget to put whatever was holding the cord, back. (Had this been something he’d done regularly to me, I would have yelled and screamed more often than I did.)

Today, on my desk at work, I use my popup post-it dispenser to hold my mouse cord in place, and when someone else comes over to use the computer on my desk, they always move the post-it dispenser so that the mouse cord is pulled all.the.way. out from the back of the computer. Grr @ this situation. One WE is left handed, so when she comes to use the computer, she not only moves the post-it dispenser off the mouse, but she pulls the mouse cord all the way out and TO THE LEFT SIDE OF THE DESK!

I never, in a billion years, could have imagined I’d feel like this. I wonder what he’d say about this if he knew. Hmm. Inquiring minds want to know.

Annoyed with…

• the wrappers on fast food straws that should just come off in one tear. but they don’t. at least not for me. maybe it’s the tremors I have that cause my hands to not function properly when it comes to opening straw wrappers. hmm. something to ponder for another post.
• people leaving their gas tank lid open. really people? how hard is it to remember to close the damn lid AFTER YOU PUT THE CAP BACK ON THE TANK? hmm. rocket science?
• the x won’t allow divorce to be finalized. grr.
• commercials right at the bestpartoftheshow
• people that take facebook too seriously. just let people say what they want to say. if you don’t want to see it, don’t look. they made it easy to ‘delete’ someone or even go so far as to ‘block’ someone. nike says it best – just.do.it.
• the leachy media. go. away.