TheMommyBlog

Monday, August 25, 2008 Familybits

They’re back.

And Daphne insisted there be one of me, after a late-night school supply run.

Monday, August 25, 2008 Familybits

My ex’s AARP card just arrived in the mail.

Saturday, August 23, 2008 Me, Me, Me

I’ve just been up to my patootie in school, home, and crazy person related affairs.

The kids go back Monday, and I’m actually a little sad about it (I must have remembered to take my meds today). This is the first year they will all be in class for the same time span, and that I can actually be home or somewhere else between nine and two-thirty, Monday through Friday. Doesn’t that sound… decadent?

I’m also determined to get my garage in shape for my birthday gift from mom: we are going to drywall and plaster my garage so it looks like a real room, and not just a place where rats go to stay when no one else will take them. Having moved every single box and shelving unit to the center of the space—noting that all my shit occupies approximately the same footprint as the two cars that are supposed to be in there in the first place—there is now at least five or six feet clearance between the Wall of Junk and the perimeter. God, I hope I can talk them into whitewashing the exposed beams of the ceiling. Anything would be an improvement. I’m putting in that huge ceiling fan that’s been sitting in the corner for two years and maybe—just maybe—it can be used as a TV/playroom/extra office space.

Or maybe I’ll just have a nicer place to store my shit, when I get around to moving it back against the walls.

It actually looks kind of nice now, just a monolith covered with canvas tarps. Cleaner than it’s been if fifty years, I’m betting. And just for the record, I will not be discussing how many dustpans full of rat poop I swept up today. Not even if you beg.

Okay, time to move to the couch to finish digesting the very excellent Peking Duck we had tonight because we didn’t get to Da Dong in Beijing the last night we were there. Swimming went long, and well, Michael Phelps was slated toward the end of the qualifying heats. China Stix was fabulous, though, and recommended by a friend of ours who hails from Beijing. We figure if that is where her family takes every visiting friend and family member, then it must be good. Phil even ate the tail and sucked on the head a little. I think I have pictures on my phone. If I can stand to do it, I’ll post them here soon. You’ve been warned.

Thursday, August 21, 2008 Me, Me, Me

I just pulled out my checkbook to pay the cleaning service (praise be to God), flipped it over to start writing, and realized that it was, in fact, the remote for the DVD player.

I thankyew.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008 Familybits

I mean, does it get any better than this? My ex-husband is so excited about my engagement to someone he admires that he is throwing me a get-together and inviting my parents while his parents are in town. Sha-ZAM!

If that’s not divorcing with Tenderness and Grace, I don’t know what is. Honestly, when we set out to raise our children without the burden of guilt or fault with regard to the divorce, we thought we’d do okay. Maybe.

When I met Phil, my ex was happy for me. Then, when he met Phil, he was happy, period. Here was a guy’s guy, someone who did not try to parent his children, who did not try to be the dad, who loved me unwaveringly, and who had everything he could wish for in a role model: integrity, honesty, wit, charm, and tolerance. When the kids met him, they were all, “Chef! YAY! Bowler? Double YAY!” They love him.

The first clue that we were exuding a modicum of Tenderness and Grace was the kids asking why in blue blazes were we breaking up because they thought we got along fine. Score one for not hanging it all out there in front of the kids! The second clue was when my daughter asked both of us to promise not to get married because she didn’t want anyone new in the family. When I asked about Phil, she said, “Duh, he IS part of the family!”

The same goes for his family. I haven’t met a single one of them that I wouldn’t choose to live with on a deserted island. I mean, the men all cook, the women are sharp, open, and generous, and the whole bunch is funny as hell. Plus, they get me. That right there is no easy feat.

My ex has been asking me for the last year when we’d be getting married, and—let me be clear—he doesn’t stand to benefit in any way from it. He just likes the guy. He thinks this is the best thing that could happen to the kids. “Don’t let him get away, Mindy, he’s really great. You make a great pair.” You know, I almost think that I was meant to lose my friendship with him as a spouse, because there was a far richer friendship waiting for us.

When an old friend called last night to congratulate me, she said, “You’re giving the rest of us hope! If one fortyish mom can attract a guy like that, maybe we can, too.” And she doesn’t even have kids—believe me, they aren’t lining up for divorcées with four decades and three children under their (elasticized) belts.

So, as difficult as the last several years have been, as much disaster and wreckage we’ve all been though individually and as a family, I wouldn’t change a single moment of it, because it led us here.