hey, teachers, leave my kids alone

Before I get into my post, I have to say this. I'm at my office right now. (You know, the coffee shop) And by the way, I have not made it back here before now since my first announcement that it was my new office. It appears that volunteering at two different schools, running essential errands and giving the occasional helping hand to a friend really eats up those twelve hours a week I have to be here. Man, life is hard. But that's not the point. The point is I made a tiny comment on my blog last week or so about the coffee here being not quite warm enough. I have been getting coffee here for years so I didn't say it lightly. Darn it all if I didn't come in this morning and receive a cup of coffee so hot I cannot even drink it yet, not even with the cold cream added. It's spooky, I say. But I'll take hot coffee any way it comes to me.

Yesterday I got a phone call from the male little's team teacher. Of course the only reason she should be calling me is to tell me what a genius sixth grader he is, but from her tone and her actual words, it appears that is not exactly what this call is about. And apparently his genius will also not be the primary focus of the return phone call she is requesting this morning or the conference with me and his other team teacher next week.

I'm sorry, but I don't get phone calls like this. Did I fail to mention my littles are exceedingly brilliant and have the manners of Emily Post? Well, in my fantasy world they are and they do and I don't know what this teacher is trying to pull, but she's messing with my fantasy world. Who messes with the fantasy world of a middle aged woman going through both a divorce and and annulment. The only conclusion I can come to is that this must be a very rude teacher to do such a thing. And though I really don't want to be the one to have to, I will tell her. For her own good and all.

:::sigh::: Just one more thing to heap on the pile of mother guilt. I am convinced this phone call would never had occurred if I was not getting a divorce. I'm certain those cherubs of mine would have retained their perfection if I hadn't insisted on messing with them. So this begs the question, how much do I really love my kids?

When I became pregnant for the first time while in the process of getting divorced mere months after my marriage, I was shocked. Not shocked at the pregnancy, but with the father. For you see, by then I had found THE love of my life and was planning on living out my happily ever after scenario with him. There was a rather large lapse of proper communication with Mr. Love of My Life that led to a much too long date with Mr. Tequila. Still experiencing the rather large lapse of communication and cell phones not being the staple they are now back in the day, the very hung over me drove north 800 miles to be consoled by my impending-ex-husband. Consoled or something, I don't know what the hell I was doing there. I was young and stupid. By the time Mr. Love of My Life had called to track me down the next day I was pregnant.

At that point I decided I loved my child more than myself, more than life itself and nothing would ever change that hierarchy. I said a gut-wrenching, movie worthy goodbye to Mr. Love of My Life and did not divorce my husband. Instead I made a vow to devote my life to my baby and my subsequent children. Every ounce of my life would be about nurturing them, meeting their every need, making sure they knew I loved them more than anything in this world. I slept easy every night (not really, as I nursed through the night for nine years straight) but I was happy to be sleep deprived because I loved them more than sleep. I was not separated from my babies for years because I was sure no one could love them like me. I dutifully homeschooled them, kept them from sitters, read them every book on the shelves over and over, nursed them indefinitely. I swore they would never question my love or their place in my life. The very top of my list, that is where my children have always been.

And now, where are they now? If I think of me first, what does that say about how much I love them? If I get divorced and tear every shred of their idea of what home and safety and family means, what does that say about how much I love them? As I send my precious first born, who I gave every single love advantage to, away to therapy because he is so distraught and filled with anxiety over this divorce, what does that say about how much I love him? If I am getting phone calls for teacher conferences because his behavior indicates he no longer feels secure and loved completely, what does that say about the kind of mother I am versus the kind of mother I promised him I would be? Am I really not capable of loving my children more than myself? Could I only keep up the premise for a mere eleven years and then my true selfish nature came to surface? I swear I still feel just as in love with every single one of them as I ever have. How could I still feel so overflowing with love for them, how could I still feel so fiercely protective of their childhoods and their hearts and do something that is so blatantly going to change their lives forever in a way that no amount of therapy will smooth over?

What kind of mother am I? What kind of person? I've cried more than I care to admit this week. I've slept less than is healthy for me thinking about this thing called love and this title called mother.

a good day

Wednesday is my morning off. The two older littles get themselves up and on the bus. Well, the oldest female little does and then she helps her brother, the actual oldest little, fall out of bed and somehow crawl to the bus. The middle female little decided she wants to ride the bus in the mornings so I get her on her way and then I sit down with the preschool little who doesn't have school on Wednesday. I don't even have to leave the house Wednesday mornings unless...

The middle girl little, while lounging in bed and getting her morning back scratch announced she didn't feel like going to school today. "Sure, stay home," I said, "who needs school?" Besides, we have so many activities after school and on the weekends right now, I feel like we're all a little beat and could use more breaks than we get. And anyway, she caught me on a good day.

So middle girl little had a leisurely breakfast, snuck in some PBS with her little sister and then began to look at me. She began to make me uncomfortable with that intense gaze that seemed to say, "More now?" More what I'm not sure, but I knew I didn't have it to give to her. This was as good as it gets on a Wednesday morning. Although there will be laundry later, maybe that's what she was waiting for.

A few minutes later she came in dressed, teeth and hair brushed with backpack in tow. "I want to go to school now," she announced. Not a problem. So we loaded up and drove her to school getting there only a few minutes late. I signed her in and explained her miraculous recovery to the school secretary, because of course being the good citizen I am, I had already called and announced her absence . She ran into her music room and her classmates cheered out her name. Aw, it does a former homeschooling mama's heart good to see her little enjoying school so much and seeing her classmates love her.

Now the preschool little and I are back home. She just asked me if we could just snuggle on the sofa all morning. I guess that's where you'll find me for a few more minutes. After all, she caught me on a good day.

sometimes you get what you need

Yesterday was a good day. I spent the day moving into my new apartment. And my address is still the same. :P The soon to be ex-husband and I have been going round and round in our heads trying to figure out what to do with "the house." Trust me, with the drama we have experienced over this issue, the quotations are warranted. For various reasons which I will be magnanimous and quiet about now, our house was not put on the market and sold this summer as we (I) had planned. That's a bit of a bummer or maybe a blessing in disguise, but now it's the reality we need to live in - literally. Putting it on the market right now is really a non-option. The winter in northern New England is no time to sell a house, especially a big one like ours. Dh swears he can not afford to move out and I can't cover the mortgage alone, so we're kind of stuck. I struggled with coming to this conclusion because I wanted to sever as many physical ties with the husband as I could and I wanted immediate independence. But hey, life is all about learning to live in the real world, right?

So we had this crazy idea. Let's just share the house for a while. The deal is the bottom floor of our house consists of three bedrooms with two full baths, a small eat in kitchen and a large area that splits up into a living room and family room (or dining room, but I really don't get dining rooms and to me it just means one more place out of the kitchen my young ones can drag food and feel justified.) Upstairs are three more bedrooms, another full bath and this weird little extra room. So we've decided to split the house into two living areas. The kids and I will take the bottom floor and he is going to take the top floor.

He'll create his bedroom, a family room with two trundle beds and an extra bedroom. He's going to take the weird little room and create a kitchenette. He doesn't need much in that department since he doesn't eat all that much at home because he's really not here much and when he does eat in, the kitchenette he's putting in will be plenty for him. And then he has a full bath up there. We're blocking off the front foyer with locking (from my side) French doors and he'll use the front door which leads right to the stairway going to his level. He also has a locking door at the top of the stairway for his privacy. I'll have the mudroom/sunroom entrance to use for my section. Money wise we are splitting the utilities and I'm going to pay him rent from the child support once we finalize the money that far.

So crazy huh? I have no idea how this is going to play out, but it's an interesting social experiment if nothing else. When he has the kids for his visitation, they will actually stay in his area for the weekend and not only will I have actual private time in my own living area, I won't have to come home to the consequences of him having let the kids run wild and destroy the house when I'm not here. Ha, ha, ha, ha...oh, I'm sorry, I just can't quit laughing at myself and my naive notions. Where was I? Oh yeah, when Spring arrives here in the northern tundra, we'll evaluate where we are and where the housing market is. The best possible scenario I can imagine right now is that the market will have held up or gone back up and we will sell the house for a small profit, split the proceeds and go our merry separate ways. I also hope to be gainfully employed in some way and have a bit of money that feels like my own and perhaps that will impact my choice of living a bit more.

Even though the split cannot take immediate place because those two full baths of mine that he gutted in July are still not put back together and all six of us are using one bath upstairs right now - gosh, where did I leave my mantra about being magnanimous again?? But I have faith, yes that's it, I have faith those bathrooms will be completed soon and we can put the new plan into action. I've already begun claiming the floor as my own, though. I've been moving furniture and I'm going to paint and just do things my way with no questions of or explanations to anyone else.

I don't know if I will ever want to be married again. I'm craving freedom like a starving person.

don't rock the boat, baby

Here's the deal. When the world is going your way, for goodness' sake, just let it keep going. The newly very communicative and understanding husband was impressing me with his ability to handle the new phase our lives were taking. So, when I got that call from my church telling me that I have to apply for and be granted an annulment before I can join the church, I thought nothing of sharing that news with the newly communicative and understanding husband.

Lest you think I'm a total idiot, I honestly did not think this would be a big deal for the husband. He was raised in the church the kids and I are joining and he does not respect their teachings nor does he even believe them to be a valid Christian entity. Fair enough I say, he has his right to freedom of thoughts on theology. This is why I was rather surprised at his reaction when he was "shocked and saddened" by my announcement. "Why," I wondered aloud, "does this even matter to you? It's a piece of paper you don't believe in from a church you don't recognize as legitimate?"

This is where we veered off into a discussion about the Kennedy's. Even though in our minds it seemed perfectly logical at the time, I realize it may not be a logical leap to anyone who does not live near the Boston area where nearly every point of life can be referenced back to the Kennedy's in some way. He said he knew how Joseph's wife must have felt when she was told her marriage had never even existed. And were our children illegitimate now? I then realized I had made a tactical mistake. As usual, I realized too late.

We had to be somewhat together for the morning because it's soccer season in town. Every Saturday morning there becomes what is an informal town meeting behind the local elementery school as everyone with children between the ages of 4 and 12 congregate with coffee in hand at the soccer fields to watch our young super stars and share in the latest gossip. I'm sure I am a big part of the latest gossip, but marriages are dropping like flies around here, so I think my fifteen minutes of fame is about up.

I then went to the gym and was just about to step off of the treadmill when I realized there was an episode of Project Runway I hadn't seen. Let me be clear that my attraction to this show was forced upon me when my daughter insisted it be added to her tivo list. Then I started half-way paying attention to the thing while she was in my room watching. Well, my relationship with the show became more serious than I would like as I stayed on the treadmill for an extra forty five minutes to watch the entire show. Making it all the more painful was the fact that since this was live tv and not tivo, I had to sit (tread) through commercials. I've reached a new low.

When I got home in the afternoon the husband apologized for his reaction to my annulment declaration and was once again very understanding and supportive. It was so sweet and yet unnerving at the same time. He really is a decent guy. I've just spent so many years in this pattern of control and submission with him that I can no longer tell if he is just switching tactics.

Last night I went to dinner with my new book group. AKA: a group of women who desperately want a reason to leave our homes without our lovely children clinging to our pant legs on occasion. There was no book, though we did discuss having one next time, but there was more gossip and laughing and some new friendships sparked. It was a great night. People are good.

I then came home and possibly made a grave mistake.

the microphone smells like a beer

I'm sitting in my new office. Four days a week for three hours you can find me right here while the littlest little is in preschool down the road. Okay, so my office is a coffee shop called The Bagel Mill, but they have wireless internet access, my favorite coffee - decaf hazelnut with just a little cream because I kicked my sugar habit- and great ambiance. The only downside is they can't seem to keep their coffee hot enough, but I would never actually tell them because I think I'm too polite for that. They do have the closest to NY bagels you can get in this town, nevermind their competition is Dunkin Donuts. My favorite bagel is salt with plain tomato, nothing else, in case you ever wondered. But I don't eat the bagels because I can't eat food in the mornings and I'm not feeling all that into food at all these days. So like I was saying, I'm sitting in my new office being a writer, because that's what I am. Okay, so right now judging from my work this past morning I'm apparently a writer of emails and im's and I've spent too much time putting together a new blog, but my future plans are really bigger than that. You know, like win a Pulitzer or make money or something.

Big news in our town today. We've traditionally had two local newspapers that come out once a week. The one owned by a corporation bought out the local family paper. I feel so sad. The local family paper is actually the one that offered me a super job with very little pay (the one I couldn't take because of those four sweet children who actually need to see a parent every once in a while) but I fell in love with the paper as the publisher spun the tale of the early beginning to now. He really loved that paper. ::::sigh::::: I hope they gave him a good price and he makes a dream he's perhaps had in the back of his head all these years come true with it.

It just makes me sad to see the little guys get bought up by what I've convinced myself is a cold conglomerate. And I'm always disappointed to see the world of journalism consolidated under one entity's hand because I'm a big believer in conspiracy theories where the right-wing takes over every media outlet and renders us all brain dead. I'm sure half the town will be out picketing about it later.

Oh, the sheriff also found $10,000 worth of pot growing in a cow pasture, but I'm sure it was just growing wild and there's actually no criminal intent behind it. Like I care, I think pot should be legal anyway. I think alcohol and cigarettes are more dangerous.

So that's my update from Maybury today. I need to get back to work. My work as a real writer and all.

a long day's night

So my very first post is one in which I commend my soon to be ex husband on his sensibility and willingness to think of his family as we negotiate, mostly without lawyers, our child support settlement. Although the divorce has been looming for nearly a year now, I only recently decided it wasn't going to do itself and saw an attorney to make sure the papers I have are the correct ones and indeed we are on our way to filling them out in a way that will render us amicably divorced. The phrase child support had been bantered around a bit, but it wasn't until my visit with the attorney we began to actively look at spreadsheets and budgets and the cherub faces of our children who would like to continue eating that we entered the land mind filled area of support negotiation in divorce.

I am pleased and proud to report we have reached an agreement. An agreement I feel is generous on my soon to be ex-husband's part, though I'm sure my attorney would like to see even more generosity. But hey, I live in the real middle class world. Neither of us are walking away millionaires here. In fact, both of our standards of living will decrease, and with that our children's as well. What we are trying to protect right now is not the lives of me or their father, but the childhood's of our children. Not only their emotional, spiritual and physical lives, but their economic lives as well. God help us do this right. He's certainly given me hope with this start.