I Built Her Myself

Some days it feels like a lot of work to pull myself together. Friday was one of those days. After Oz picked up the kids for an overnight visit at his place, I took a look at myself. I had recently gotten back from a 17 hour road trip alone with 3 children.  And what was left of me was a shell of myself. And SHE was just sitting there. Not moving. Like a lump on the couch.

I reminded her that her friends were going out to see a band that she likes and that there would be dancing and that she should get herself together and start getting ready.

But, she had a lot of excuses.  She felt like she was too tired, too old and too drained of life force energy from everything she endured over the last few years. She felt sadness because she thought about the reality that her dad died and is still dead 4 years later. She thinks MS makes her tired. She gained 4 pounds but feels like it's 100. Her ex-husband is getting remarried in 3 weeks. And she feels like she is going to die alone.

She wanted to wallow in despair and pay bills and sweep the crud off the kitchen floor. She wanted to stay home on her couch and eat the fudge brownie ice cream the kids hadn't found yet while she finished binging another season of Shadow Hunters and take off her bra and put on her romper.

That was IT! Enough! I had to intervene! I could not let her her put that damn onesie on and sit around feeding her friggin' face junk food while her friends were dancing somewhere. NO!

So I pulled her off of the couch and forced her into the bathroom.  I blasted her favorite songs from her phone and threw her into the shower and strongly encouraged her to shave every inch of her Italian fur off.  She tried to get away with a quick once over with the razor, but nope! All of it!  How does it grow so freakin' fast?

I almost felt bad for her and let her put the onesie on and go back to the couch after all the effort the shaving took.  Then I remembered the dancing and my Old Self that wasn't a haggard shell and I pushed forward with my mission.

Next I worked on her hair. She protested of course and wanted to just leave it wet and put it in a messy bun like she had been doing all summer so far. But- nope! Not having it.

She complained it was dried out from the chlorine and salt water from vacation, it was in need of coloring. It was out of control.  And she was right.

 So, I took out all of my tools and turned them to the highest heat settings they had. I used the super strength oil and smoothing creme and I used the salon quality hair dryer I had splurged on for situations such as this. I sectioned the ratty hair into sections. And slowly I dried it. One section at a time.

She tried to convince me to not let her out of the house until her hair color appointment later this week. But, nope! I persisted.

Next, I slathered more oil on the hair. Then I used the flat iron. Again sectioning it. She wanted me to just run it over chunks of hair to quickly flatten it a bit.
Ummm....nope.

Section by small freaking section I smoothed and flat ironed that straw back into silk.

Not too bad!

While the curling iron heated up we worked on her face.

Oh Self, what the hell happened here??

I tried not to be angry, but seriously she hadn't used her face soap and exfoliator in so long that she couldn't even find it. WTF?!

Luckily, I dug it out from the dark hole in the closet and gave her face a good scrubbing.
The old, dead, dried out skin went away. But, the underneath layer was sunburned and reddish and had some blemishes.

 I knew she would use these as excuses to put that darn onesie on and watch tv.

SO- I convinced her it was part of looking like summer!

Before she could register that this isn't a thing- I started dabbing foundation on to blend her face a bit.  I had to admit there was no hiding the pimple on her forehead or the sunburned nose.

I decided instead to use a cream blush to highlight her cheeks and lips and leave the blemishes and "naturalness."

Hmmm....ok she was starting to perk up.

Next were the eyes.  I smudged some eyeshadow on with my finger because she couldn't find a brush and was too lazy to dig out q-tips.  SO I made due.

Not bad!
Now for the eyeliner....inside edge of the bottom lid first.

OMG! She started to look alive.  So I kept going.

Outer edge of top lids.
And one slight wing at each edge.

Ohhhhhh my!

And finally my most favorite of all make-up....Mascara!
I had saved the best for last. I knew that lash by lash I could uncover my True Self.
I still had belief she was in there.

And as I swept that black wonder across those lashes, I saw her. Her eyes sparkled. She was awake now.

Before she lost the sparkle I added a touch of brown brow pencil and BAM!!!! She was alive in there!

It was HER- the woman that likes to listen to music and go out with friends and dance!

Oh, but the outfit, her eyes dulled at the thought.

I reminded her about the black dress hanging on the hook in her room.
She protested that it wasn't actually a dress, but a beach cover up.

I had already anticipated this reaction, so I was ready with a necklace and earrings
and WAAAAA-LAAAAA
it's a dress!

She wasn't too sure, but she didn't have time to think as I shoved her fat little feet into her peacock print shoes that she loves.

That distracted her enough to forget she was wearing a beach cover-up as a dress because it was the only thing clean that actually fit her.

Finally dressed ...  I used a giant-barreled curling iron to add some OOOMPH to her hair.
Just a few well placed curls because at this point I'm lucky she even has any patience left at all.

One very important last step- the root spray.  I shook that can up and sprayed that dark brown paint over as much of her gray hairs as I could.  Took practically the whole can but I covered most of it!


And then...she looks in the mirror and seems to approve. Or at least not head back to the couch.

So she goes to the bar and meets up with her friends and they talk and laugh and she is awake and happy and then the band plays and she loves every song and can't sit in her seat because she needs to stand up and dance!

And she knows every word to Jesse's Girl and Livin' on A Prayer so she sings it with her friends and laughs and laughs.

And I know she will be ok...because I built her myself.

The Secret to a Happy Marriage

I got home tonight and my Ex-Husband, Oz, was at my house with the kids and a salesman from a roofing company.  And that is not even the weirdest part of the story.  Over the weekend Oz and Dorothy were at a Wedding Expo and they entered to win home improvement services.  They don't own a home, but they know I do and that my home has a hole in the roof that squirrels have been moving into.   So, they entered to win me a new roof. Or at least an estimate on one that I can finance (still not the most awkward part of the story.)

So Roof Sales Man arrives while I was out with my friend and Oz was here with the kids.  Roof Sales Man goes through his speech on roof stuff with Oz.  Then I arrive.  He assumes that I am Oz's wife because that makes sense. But, I don't realize it at first.

After, he looks around he comes back inside to meet with us and says he needs to schedule another appointment and when are we available etc. etc.

As he tries to talk about the pros of going with a more expensive shingle, he starts using all his sales tactics... he wonders how long do we expect them to last?
He is looking at me and wants to know how long will we plan to be in the house.
Well...who knows?? It was a starter home ...but here we are 14 years later.  So...

Then he says, so how long have you known each other?  Well...about 16 years.

"WOW!" he says, "so what's the secret to a happy marriage?"

Ummm...Divorce?!

Meeting My Match

When my dating profile needed a makeover, who did I ask for help? Ummm...My Exes and their girlfriends.  2017 was a Year of Lessons for me. And one thing I learned is that if I want to meet a King, I can't keep playing with the Jesters.  So if I am going to get serious about meeting Mr. Right I need some reinforcements.

I'm not a major fan of online dating, but it seems a
likely way to meet potential Mr. Right(s), so I have dabbled with it over the past few years.  I have met some doozies. One guy wore shoes that looked like gloves, but for your feet. Another had a sketchy Italian accent that came and went depending on his mood.

One guy was HOT, like super duper H.O.T.  He smelled so good. Like if Heaven smelled Sexy and you could bottle it, that would be his scent.  He had a French accent and was tall.
He said all the right things.  Too right.  I was skeptical.  He was too well dressed and too damn sexy. He had to be up to something.  The more I got to know him, I started to notice his smooth talk included some red flags.  He started to use the language of one of my infamous Exes. He said he had "side jobs" that kept him busy.  Hmmm...I knew from past experiences that "side job" is double talk for "side bitch."  And then there was the excuse of "my phone broke."
Classic Fuckboy line.  So I stopped responding to texts and then his true colors flared.
First, he was persistent, then angry, then insulting.
Then he contacted me from one of his THREE other profiles!!! So Charlie, Pierre and Mr. Sincere
were blocked.

But, online dating isn't all things made of nightmares.  A few years ago, when I had first tried online dating, I did meet one nice guy, R.  We dated for while and he was awesome! The relationship didn't last, but our friendship has.  He is someone that I trust with the most important people in my life - my children.  Thankfully, he has become part of our village and often babysits for my Goofballs.  They have come to really care about and respect him.  We all value his opinion, which is always dead honest - even if you don't like it!  So of course, when I was thinking of revamping my dating profile I asked for his advice.  His girlfriend is a good friend of mine and I introduced them! Turns out I am an amazing matchmaker!! They're a great couple!  Now I just need to show good judgment in finding my own match.

As expected, R. was honest and said the picture I chose for my profile wasn't flattering, He said it didn't look like my face somehow.

A professional Dating Advice Giver/Matchmaker had said the same thing. She has said it needed to appeal more to men.  R. agreed.

So, it seemed I maybe needed to show more cleavage.  And somehow fix my face to look like my face.

Basically,  I needed a new photo.

So...I spoke with an expert. My Ex-Husband, Oz. He's an Artist and a Photographer.  Turns out, he and his Fiance had some time to spare and they helped me with a photo session.

Nope...nothin' weird about that.

Anyhoo - I figured over the past 15 years Oz has captured me at my Best and Worst. He's documented my happiest of times like my Wedding Day, me seeing my babies faces for the first time, me celebrating a decade of holidays.  He's captured my saddest days of miscarriages and losing my father. He has caught the candid, off-guard moments that are truly me in my every day life.  And he has been witness to my ugliest moments that I try to never let the world see and has thankfully not photographed them.

So who better to try to help me get my face to look like my face?

But, in the end it was actually Oz's fiancé Dorothy that took the picture that felt most like the Me that I see.

She was gracious enough to help Oz with the photo shoot.  And she helped with artistic suggestions like lighting, poses etc.

We tried shots of me sitting, standing, smiling, not smiling.  Far away, close up. It was quite the process.  Nothing felt right.

We even staged of few of me trying to make reading somehow look sexy since it's one of my only hobbies!!

When the kids needed tending too, Oz went to help.  Dorothy shot a few pictures that ended up being the best of the bunch. They had an angle that showed me looking my best.

Oz captured a few great ones too, like me laughing! I don't know how many dates it would get me, but he voted for the laughing shot as my main profile picture.  Not sure if the King that I plan to meet would click on that though! SO I had to overrule him.

As we start 2018, I am reflecting on how very important my family is. And how friends have become family to me.  Anyone that is truly the right Match for me will need to know and care about these people that have become my village. Might as well let them all help me find him!

Officially Love~Not Just a Crock of Shit

I recently Officiated my cousin's wedding ceremony. It took an online license and some soul searching, but I pulled it together. I learned a lot about love along the way.  Last winter, when my cousin first asked me about being the Officiant, I was surprised and so honored!

We got started with planning right away and realized it took about 5 minutes for me to be ordained online. I had the background experience of working in ministry related job for many years before I became a teacher.  I had helped plan weddings, funerals and Sunday services.  I just had never actually performed the ceremonies before.

After the "ordination" there wasn't much to do until closer to the wedding.

Then, this summer I began to think about the ceremony and interview the Bride and Groom about their love story in preparation for the Big Day.

As the wedding got closer I took a look online to be sure I had followed all the correct formats in writing the ceremony.

It went something like this...

Welcome guests...ok check
Intention...state intention of Bride and Groom to get married...ok check

All good so far...I've totally got this!

Reflection...give a short, personal reflection on love and marriage...
OH Shit!

That's where I hit a major roadblock. Or maybe it was writer's block? Or a WALL?...whatever it was...was not good.

Love?! Marriage?!!
What could I possibly say about that?? I was coming out of Round 15 in the cycle of on and off again relationship with a lying cheater.

But, I thought I would give it a shot.

Well...
I started with thinking...Love and marriage are great. Hope for a happily ever after but, be smart and have your own bank account and your name on everything. Be prepared for anything because people can turn out to be lying assholes that will rip your heart out.

Ummm...
this wasn't going as planned.

I needed to STOP and find inspiration...FAST!

I started to reflect...What do I believe about love other than it is a crock of shit?
There must be something...

Then it hit me...I HAVE known love.
I was raised by a couple that truly loved each other.
My parents!
Ok, I was on a good track now.  My father was an amazing man and he loved my mother like she was the Queen of his Universe.  And she loved him.  My Dad always said, "You stay for love."
40 years of ups and downs and no matter what ~ they loved each other.

Once I got on a roll thinking, I realized I have been loved like that too. I was married to an amazing man.  I  knew what it felt like to have someone love me like I was their world. I thought about how I felt on my wedding day.  That feeling that love can fix it all. THAT was good.  Believing that love exists, that it can bind 2 people forever.  It CAN happen. Maybe our marriage ended in divorce and I have had some shitty experiences since then,  but LOVE still binds our amazing little family. We created that, we nurture that.

Next, I thought about my Aunt and Uncle -the Bride's Parents. YES!! They have True Love! They met when they were 6!! For God's sake -of course!!! Love has kept them together through all these years.

I was in such a freaking good place at this point. For a couple days I started interviewing random strangers and asking how they found love. What was the secret of their marriage?  I used to do this on regular basis when I was in college. I'd forgotten how many great love stories there are out in the world.

And of course...the story of the Bride and Groom turned out to be the best love story for their Big Day.

And so the Reflection went like this...

We are here today because of Love.

We have all heard of love at first sight.

Some believe it exists, some do not.

And some people

like E and A

cannot agree on who saw the other first

that fateful day  8 years ago

when they met on the beach.  

Did he  see her first  as she believes?

Or  did she him first  as he believes?
That remains a mystery…

but they do in fact agree that the first look they exchanged started it all!

When A approached E and asked her out,

she decided to take a risk.

She said yes

and the rest as they say is history.  

That yes, that risk

brings us here 8 years later.

When I asked A what he loves about E, he had so many fantastic things to say.

But, one thing he said stands out most

He said

She loves me with all of my stuff.

THAT is real love.  Not just accepting what someone brings to the relationship, not loving someone in spite of it, but loving them BECAUSE of it.

THAT is Unconditional love.

Romantic movies and songs always focus on meeting someone and falling in love.

But, TRUE love is in the the day to day.

It is “the experience of loving for the long haul.”

THAT is the kind of love that A and E share for one another.

Their love started from a day at the beach and spanned long distances.

As they built a foundation for their relationship, changed locations, and created a Home ...

They strengthened their unconditional love.

They’ve decided to declare that love and make a commitment to one another today.

We are here to celebrate that commitment with them.

So I was reminded that True Love does exist. It is all around us, if we just look for it.

And then... my Ex-Husband Oz helped me practice the ceremony until it was just right. Because that is LOVE in it's own dysFUNctional way!

Home

Home...is it a place or a feeling or a person?  For families of Divorce, it can be a very confusing word. When Oz and I fell apart, I clung to the idea that my children needed a home. I needed to provide a physical place of shelter for people to live.  Having been a Stay at Home Mom (SAHM) for the 6 years previous to The Divorce, the weight of that responsibility felt overwhelming.  Where would I work? How would we live? WHERE would we live? But, it all fell into place and I quickly got a job and kept my house.

During the divorce proceedings I was adamant that my children have a Home Base and not be shuffled around like nomads.  We came to an agreement that the house the children and I lived in would be Home Base. Oz visited them here in the place they lived. He would take them for awhile and return them here.

I lived here with them. But, it didn't feel like HOME to me. It was a place in which we each parented people on our days.  It was a place for the children and I to eat and sleep. The routines stayed the same and the children had stability.  Life moved along with days turning to months and eventually years.

At one point, I woke up and realized we needed to make the house into a home again. I had to start feeling like I lived there with my family even though that image had now changed from what I had thought my life would be. I always pictured Home to have a mother and a father living together in it.  I had to revision!

So, I started clearing out junk. Then, I decorated a bit more. Repainted, reorganized. Eventually, it started to feel like I was Home. We had dinners at the table, we had family and friends over. We stopped just existing in the house we slept in. We started to live in a Home again.

During this process, Oz set up his new home.  His Emerald Palace was a city apartment.  Different than our tiny house. New and shiny to the kids.  They liked to go visit "Daddy's house." They had a tent set up for a long time that they shared when they slept there. They thought it was so cool! The blinds are floor to ceiling and a remote controls them. Very cool!

For a long while, this worked.  The children and I continued developing a sense of Home in the house we lived in.  Oz visited.  The children visited Oz's "place" as they would often call it.

Over time, Oz met Dorothy.  Slowly, she was introduced to the children.  Introduced to me.
She would stop in to see the kids and Oz at his place or they might meet out for part of his days with the kids.  After a long while, she started to spend days with all of them on most of their visits.  Then days turned into a night here or there.  Then a short vacation for all of them together. Eventually, she moved in to Oz's place. She visited the Home the children and I live in more often. She spent time here with them.

Dorothy became part of Oz's life, part of my children's lives and part of my life over the past 3 years.

This Spring,  Oz and Dorothy got engaged and my children started referring to Oz's place as "our Home with Daddy and Dorothy" or they would say "we are going to our home with Daddy now."
The language began changing. The idea of HOME began to evolve.

I credit Dorothy with this seamless transition into my children's lives and hearts. She stood back and let them get to know her. She earned their respect. She earned mine. She didn't force any of us to like her. She didn't try to convince us.  She just lived as who she is and soon we all realized how impossible it would be to NOT like her (even when I might have tried.)

She slowly got to know the kids, what they like, what they are interested in and what they care about.

She shares in their love of legos and quickly became the boys Go To Person for Lego projects.  She set up a cool lego building station at their house. She sifted through the zillions of lego pieces thrown around our play room and the organized them into bags and matched them with instructions and helped them build.

She shows joy for my daughter's love of American Girl Dolls.  She dug out her own AG doll, Molly from her childhood days and enthusiastically plays with Isabella.  They make necklaces and bracelets from beads and pasta, they sew pillows, they created their own line of lip balm.

The children enjoy their time at their Home with Daddy and Dorothy largely in part because Dorothy goes out of her way to make them feel special. FEELing at Home is an important part of BEing at home.

One afternoon, they came back from Oz's place,  grumbling because Dorothy had gone out for an hour without them.  Isabella was very grumpy about it.  When I asked her why, she told me that Dorothy said she was going to the mall to return something and would be right back. But it took AN HOUR! I reminded the children that the mall was a 20 minute drive in each direction. Which means Dorothy had to be RUNNING through the Mall to make it back to them as quickly as she did and they should give her a break.  Bella was not convinced.

One of my sons (Vincenzo) told me that Bella sat by her dollhouse waiting for Dorothy for nearly the entire time, but finally gave up and took a nap.  Apparently, when Dorothy returned she offered to play dolls with Bella.  But, Bella told her no. She wasn't going to play with her because she was angry still. (OMG I was horrified to hear the bratty tale!)

I asked him why they were so upset about her going out.  He said it just wasn't fun without her.  He said they needed her there because she always comes up with great things to do.
I reminded all 3 of the children that once in a while adults need a break too.  And it was ONE HOUR!!!   Seriously people!!

This summer, they all went on a long vacation together. When Oz and Dorothy returned the kids after 9 days and several hours stuck in traffic- I asked if they were tired. Dorothy looked exhausted.  They all did.  But, she very graciously said no and that they'd had a fantastic vacation. She told me all of the great behaviors the kids showed to each other and to her family.  I was so proud and so relieved.

To hear her talk proudly about the children made an incredible impact on me.

It had been my worst nightmare when I got divorced, to think that another woman would come into my children's lives and be the abusive and scary, EVIL Stepmother that Disney spends millions of dollars to create stories about.  I feared they would never feel like a family again and that they would be pushed out of their father's life by a faceless, nameless person.

To my great joy, I have discovered how blessed our family is to have Dorothy in it.
HOME has a new meaning for my children now.   Instead of being pushed out, they were brought in.
They are creating new traditions, setting up an additional Home Base and enjoying being cared for by their now larger village of loving and supportive people.

When they returned from vacation they told me that they have new grandparents now, Dorothy's parents.  They were so well cared for and loved by her family.  The felt at Home. This was their second summer trip with them and they made traditions that they are already looking forward to for next year!

This week I was thinking about how it takes a village to create a sense of Home...
The children and I have been cleaning rooms and closets and organizing etc.
I finished Isabella's room, but the boys told me not to worry about doing their room because Dorothy would do it.  They said she likes to organize and donate things!

That really made me realize that HOME is about the people in our lives.  My children are comfortable in our Home and they know that Oz and Dorothy are comfortable here too.  They know that we all help each other out.  They thought nothing of the fact Dorothy would come over and clean their room.  They were right too! She did come over and organized the closet and drawers neater than ever before. So maybe that  comfort and acceptance and inclusion is what makes it FEEL like Home?

Five years ago I NEVER would have pictured feeling thankful that my children have another woman in their lives in a parenting role.  I also would not have believed that I would have that woman visit my house on a regular basis and feel comfortable with her doing dishes and helping with laundry and cleaning out the boys' closet and drawers.

With anyone else I would have felt self-conscious or judged because I can't always keep up with the messes and chores and organizing. I would have worried that someone thought I was not capable or not a good mom.  But, with Dorothy she has become part of the family. She has created an extension of Home for my children.  So I have realized it is ok to accept help and to let someone with the energy and enthusiasm and love for my children to give a hand when it is needed.

Maybe Home doesn't have to be a certain person, place or feeling? Maybe it's what you make it?

In sickness and in health and …divorce.

Who would be the most likely candidate to call for help with injecting myself with meds 3 times a week? Umm…my ex-husband?  If you think that is weird- you aren't alone. It started back in January when I knew I would need meds to help with my newly diagnosed MS treatment.  The pharmacy provided a visiting nurse to come out to train me to do the injections. I had used injectable meds years ago to help with pregnancy related complications when I had The Goofballs, so I was not concerned. In fact, when the nurse called to schedule a visit, I basically told her I already knew what I was doing so she didn't need to bother. But, it was policy and blah, blah. SO I scheduled an appointment for her to come to my house.

I didn't give it much thought, but the day before she arrived, the Wild One mentioned that maybe I could video the teaching session so that if I needed help, he or my mom could know what to do. It seemed like a good idea.  Oz was going to be at my house that evening with the kids so I asked him if he would video. He agreed.


When the nurse called to confirm the "training" she told us videoing was not allowed but that there was info and video on the med website blah, blah.  Something like that.

But, she said most people have someone there to be trained to help if needed so if I had someone that could come over that would be great.

When I told Oz there was not video allowed, he said he would still sit through the training class with me and help if needed.

When I introduced my ex-husband to the visiting nurse, she said that was a first for her to have Exes being trained together.

Yeah, I guess it is a bit unconventional.

The class was the longest hour ever, she gave me so much information and paperwork and techniques that I never thought I could keep it all straight. I suddenly felt very overwhelmed.  I quickly found that the "auto jet" injector that is supposed to help make things easier is in fact a pain in the ass and difficult to operate!

I did the very first injection with the nurse there and only messed up a little. But, when I tried on my own in the days following I knicked myself with the needle and wasted more than one shot.

Luckily Oz was patient and and really payed attention to the class.  He did a MUCH better job with the shots that I did.

SO I set up the injection schedule for the 3 days a week Oz is at my house to visit  the kids already. The nurse said most people did Monday, Wednesday and Friday and she thought that I should do that instead.  I stopped just short of telling her to go fuck herself. Then made the schedule I wanted.

I figured for the first week or  2 it would help if Oz could assist.

And then…6 months went by.

Oz went on vacation in early July and that is when it fully hit me that he has been giving me 98% of my shots since January.

The injection sites are rotated arms, legs, hips and stomach. Really the stomach is the only spot I can do without help. I had to stop using my legs because the injection sites would swell up and hurt for a week.The meds burn my skin so the arms hurt like hell!  And I can't reach my hips very well.  But, the excessive fat in my stomach makes it a perfect place for the meds, too fat to feel the burn!

I have talked to other people with MS that have a relative assist them as needed with injections. Or some that have even gone off the meds because the burning at the injection site is awful or the swelling gets to be a bit much.  I haven't met anyone yet that has an Ex help them though and when they ask me about my "support person" they get a really puzzled look.

Even people that know us well have had an odd look when they try to process that Oz is the one that helps me.   I know, I get it. I even agree that it's funny! We are not above the Dr. Oz jokes!

But, I am thankful for the support system I have.

The Wild One has also been great about helping me with the shots when Oz isn't here or our schedules change, etc.  He does a fantastic job with it!

 Even Oz's girlfriend Dorothy is great about entertaining the kids when she is here so Oz can help me.

All in all the system has worked well. But, I know I can't take for granted that my ex-husband or anyone is going to be committed to helping give me meds forever. This isn't a temporary thing. I think in the beginning I thought it was.  Like it would just go away or stop being MS. Or something.
But, it is finally sinking in that this condition is permanent.

At some point I have to stop needing an assist. I have to find techniques that work without relying on someone else.

But, in the meantime I am so very grateful that Oz has stepped up and helped so much! It really put things in perspective and has given me a new outlook as we co-parent together. When he needs flexibility in his schedule or asks me to consult on a parenting issue, I am much more aware of the fact that I am dealing with a person who cares about me and my family and my health. Instead of looking for a fight or thinking he has an ulterior motive every time he speaks, I have come to appreciate that he is a good and thoughtful person. He goes above and beyond his co-parenting duties by helping me even though he doesn't have to. It is good for the kids to see we work together still when it comes to the things that matter.

Despite Divorce we still maintain a family unit that functions, even if it looks a little crazy from the outside.

Something Else

Sometimes it takes temporarily losing vision in one eye to realize that some of your friendships have really grown into what is more like family.  Over  this past Thanksgiving, I wasn't feeling well.  I had a blasting headache and my left eye hurt and was a little blurry.  I had convinced myself it was a sinus infection.  But, my good friend Bethel had suggested I call my doctor before the holiday in case it was something else.  I called and said I felt like maybe I had a sinus infection starting up and they told me the first opening they had was in 3 weeks.  So I continued on with holiday plans. My children were with Oz the night before Thanksgiving so I met up with friends at a local pub to see a band.  The headache persisted and the blurriness seemed worse, but I attributed it to the loud music and lights.  After a couple chocolate martinis….well the blurriness didn't seem that bad.

On Thanksgiving Day, I wore my glasses because my eye hurt too much to put my contact in.  The headache persisted, but family and friends had me laughing enough that it didn't bother me too much.

On Black Friday, the vision was noticeably blurrier.  I mentioned it to Bethel again and she convinced me to get an eye doctor to check it out since my regular doctor's office wasn't open.

I had now self-diagnosed the problem to be a sinus infection that had been aggravated by a ripped contact.

But, the eye doctor said my contact and eye were not ripped.  She said there was swelling behind my eye and she gave me steroid eye drops and said to see my regular doctor on Monday.

That Saturday, lights were bothering my eye.  I met a friend for breakfast and could barely see out of the left eye.

I felt my sinus infection could be getting much worse and thought I needed an antibiotic so I went to a walk-in clinic.  The person that checked me out said my eye was definitely swollen. Continue to use the eye drops, take an antibiotic for my sinuses and see my own doctor on Monday.

By Sunday vision was now brown in the left eye and so blurry I wasn't sure I could really see out of it.

I decided if the antibiotics had not worked by Monday afternoon, I would see a doctor after work.

When Bethel heard that, she COMPLETELY advised against that idea of waiting and going to work.  She and her husband called me.  He is an APRN and he said I should go to the emergency room because blurry vision is nothing to mess with it.

I didn't want to go to the emergency room because who would watch the kids, the copay was too high, the wait would be too long and about 10 other excuses I came up with.

But, Bethel's husband had made his point clear - blurry vision is serious.  I should NOT go to work. I should call my doctor and say I need to be seen immediately.

Since everything was very brown and blurry at this point and my head was aching bad. I thought I should listen to advice of my friends and called my boss to say I would not be in for Monday.

Monday morning once I got the kids off to school I called my doctor and explained the weekend events.  They said to come in immediately.

I thought it was great because I could get a stronger antibiotic for my sinus infection.

However, when I got there ~ the doctor restated what Bethel had been saying for days...  IT WAS NOT A SINUS INFECTION!

 I sort of heard her say that and still thought I would drive myself home and schedule the MRI she suggested for some point in time.

The doctor looked at me like I had lost my mind.  Since I could barely see her, I ignored her sideways glance.  Then she spoke to me like I was an idiot and she very slowly let me know…It is NOT …a sinus infection...you are NOT driving yourself out of here…you will go right now for an MRI …I will be in touch with you as soon as I have the results.

I did NOT want to hear that. So I stayed in denial, but called my mom for a ride.
She took me to get the MRI.

The whole time I was in that Tunnel of Hell getting my brain scanned I was thinking- "I hope it really is just a sinus infection."

Because the alternatives were scary as Hell!
And… I am a single parent of 3 small children ...and I work full time…. and I have a classroom full of children that I teach. .. they need me.

I did not have time for something more.

Alas, it was something more.

 But, thank GOD it was not a tumor like I had subconsciously been fearing.  My doctor said vision loss could mean a lot of things,  and she definitely had not been smiling when she heard my father had died of Lymphoma in his brain.

So when she called to tell me to come to the Emergency Room immediately because she thought I had Multiple Sclerosis (MS) I was taken by surprise.  Because in my thoughts the MRI was supposed to rule out a tumor, not find something else.

It was supposed to be a sinus infection!

MS?!! What was that?  Shit! I had not really considered something ELSE. Something long-term else.

My friend drove me to the ER and my brother aka "Loser" and his wife met me there.    "Loser" and  our other friend "Lou" are my friends from my college years.  Once back in 1993 we saw a scene from Ace Ventura Pet Detective where Jim Cary said, "Loser" in such a funny way that we have been calling each other that for 23 years! In college, people even thought Tammy's name was really Lucy because I called her Lou. She calls me Lou too! We're a Loser Club and proud of it.

Anyway, that ER visit began a 3 day hospital stay that included bloodwork, MRIs, and Lumbar Punctures to rule out MS.

Or as it turns out…rule it in.

My diagnosis was Optic Neuristis caused by MS.  As months have gone by I have started to learn what the Hell that is and what it means. I learned it's manageable and treatment exists and my nerves calmed. It's not that bad. It could have been so much worse.

But during that 3 days in the hospital and days following, I realized I have the most amazing friends and family and that I am so very blessed!

As soon as the doctor said I would have to be admitted, Loser disappeared for a few minutes.  When he came back I asked what he had been doing. I thought maybe he was getting ready to go home. But, he said he had been ensuring that I would have a private room and he asked for a cot to be brought in so he could set up camp to keep me company.  I didn't want him to be inconvenienced.  But, he insisted he was staying.

I have to admit I was so relieved! I didn't realize until that minute how scared I felt.  A million thoughts were racing through my mind and so many unknowns and all I could think was, "OMG, I am completely alone in this world. Who will take care of me and the kids if there is something wrong?"

I have always felt like getting divorced is like free falling off a cliff without a parachute and you just never know if you will land in one piece.  Having something wrong with my health while raising 3 kids on my own was one of my worst fears.

But, I should have known better. My family and friends rallied and I was FAR from alone!

When I was transferred from the ER to a regular room, Loser already had a cot set up. And about 5 minutes after settling in my mother and 2 aunts came in.  It was 10:30 pm and they were dressed in cute, comfy clothes with scarves and their purses. I couldn't help cracking up! My favorite ladies were there to rescue me! I had tried to avoid inconveniencing my mom or anyone, but they were there because they wanted to be.  I was so grateful to see them!

Loser stayed over and we talked and talked until we finally slept.  We always laugh in any situation so it was great and took my mind off of everything. We met in college while Loser was on the "Student Patrol." He was wearing his fluorescent security jacket and telling people what to do. At first I thought he was bossy and opinionated.  When I go tho know him I realized, he IS bossy and opinionated AND one of the most loving and generous human being on the planet! He is loyal and dependable and has never, ever let me down.  My family loves him too, so much in fact that they adopted him a few years ago.  Now I have 2 amazing and crazy brothers.

The next morning, Lou showed and camped out for the day.  I couldn't believe it!  I had met Lou my first day of freshman year in college.  She walked into my dorm room and saw me sitting alone and said, "Hi, do you want to be my friend?"  I am always thankful I said yes!! She is my BFF and has stood by me for life.

A little while later, Bethel showed up! I met Bethel my first weekend at college also.  We became instant friends and eventually roommates.  We have always had a ton in common and have not run out of things to talk about yet in 23 years! We spend hours on the phone and quite frankly Bethel has saved my sanity on more than one occasion over the years! She is an incredible friend and if  she was charging by the hour, I would owe her about a zillion dollars for therapy.

It was like a mini-reunion! My Soul Sisters stayed with me throughout the day of testing and bloodwork and made the day entertaining.   Loser checked in and out on us all day and had us laughing.  He even stopped by while I was in the MRI and the x-ray teach told me how lucky I was to have such a protective brother! SO true.

Throughout those days in the hospital and then while recovering at home, I had much to be thankful for!  My eyesight came back 100%!! And my "Big, Fat Italian Family" and so many friends rallied around me.

For only the third time in my 41 years of life, my mother was scheduled to go away on a trip.   I wanted her to go. She needed a vacation. I was really fine. But, she as worried.

Fortunately, she works in the hospital and Loser, Lou and Bethel stopped to see her and reassured her that I would be fine and they would stand by me and take care of me.  With their encouragement she felt comfortable keeping her plans.

And my friends kept their word!

Many others helped out too.  My cousin stayed at my house to take care of the kids overnight for days, my coworkers called, stopped by to visit and took great care of my kids and students
at school.  Another one of my cousins visited and checked on me each day and my other brother stopped by to  keep me company.  Even neighbors reached out. I  had so many phone calls, texts, emails and get well cards! People dropped off food, drove me to doctor appointments and even helped me administer meds I needed at home.  Oz jumped in to help to by staying with the kids and helping me get adjusted.

MS is a thing I will figure out about as I go. It's treatable.  I'm sure there will be some learning curves ahead. But, now I know I will be ok no matter what because my kids and I have our "Village."  Our family. Our friends that have become family over the years too. The way it all works out is really something else!

EVERYthing is Mama's Business

When I rifled through the pockets of a jacket forgotten by Oz, it caused quite a debate with the Goofballs and raised some interesting questions!  In my defense I did not intentionally pick through his pockets.  I was cleaning and found a small, thin puffy jacket on my couch. I assumed it belonged to a child or a woman.  As I was guessing who it's owner could be it never occurred to me that it was Oz.  I held it up and felt something in one of the pockets and at the same time the children, aka The Goofballs, noticed what I was doing. They started saying, "that's Daddy's jacket."  When I proceeded to pull small items from the pockets it raised their attention and they came storming over. Immediately they repeated that it belonged to their father. Still disbelieving that such a tiny, thin jacket could belong to a man, I continued to look at the pocket items.  At that point, Isabella could not stand it any longer and said, "Stop going through the pockets! That jacket is Daddy's and it is his business!"

Excuse me small child that I gave life to???

I took that moment to gently remind The Goofballs that anything that was in my house is MY business including the humans I made and anyone or anything connected to them in any way.

They disagreed very much.  But, I reminded them that I had spent a decade of my life with Oz and created an entire family for him so his abandoned pockets and anything in them are also MY business.

I could not help laughing at their protection of Oz and his "business!"  FYI- the only things I found were a Dunkin Donuts gift card and chapstick. Not exactly state secrets. But, I appreciated their thoughtfulness in protecting his privacy. I only hope they will extend me the same curtesy if ever needed. Especially since they live with me and spend almost all of their time with me and therefore know much more of my "business" than their fathers.

The jacket search however, did raise some interesting questions. Cenzo immediately seized the opportunity to remind me that I had been married to Oz for quite some time and then he asked the dreaded question…."Why did you get divorced?"

We haven't really had that question in a long, long time.  The kids were little when we split up. The boys were 5 at the time and barely remember that fate changing day 3 years ago when Oz moved out and Bella was 2 and barely remembers him ever even living with us.

So it was interesting, in a gut wrenching and devastating way, to hear that question from my sweetest little guy.  Especially since it was the week of Christmas. The most dreaded of all holidays for their single Mama.

Since I was blindsided and ill prepared, I bravely faced the 3 children and told them "Life happened to us and we didn't make it through the difficult times together."

Then I waited for about 3 breathes until I could speak again and asked if anyone had any other questions. THANK GOD they all said no!!

If they had said yes, I was prepared to offer them Oz's chapstick and gift card as a bribe to get them to stop asking me heartbreaking questions!

Seriously?!

So last night I arrive home to find Oz and the kids in distress. Oz had misplaced his ring from Dorothy and everyone was in a tizzy. The next thing I know, I'm elbow deep in a garbage pail praying to Saint Anthony as I sift through yesterday's mac and cheese and other grossness in search of Oz's ring.  Now, is it normal for me to assist in looking for a ring that had been exchanged between my ex-husband and his girlfriend on Valentine's Day probably as an undying symbol of their love? Not really.   Do I love the idea that he dates a girl 15 years younger than he is? Not really.  (Her age may explain why he is 42 years old and wears a promise ring, but I digress.)  Was it a jarring experience the first time I caught a glimpse of that silver ring that looks exactly like a wedding band on his finger? Yes.

However, once I had the chance to get to know Dorothy a little bit, I realized she is very sweet.  So nice in fact and so far good to my children that she is nearly impossible to dislike.  Also, she proved her intelligence to me one day when she stood witness to an argument between Oz and I and she knew enough to keep her mouth shut and not make eye contact with me.  That brave girl stood there and endured the situation knowing enough to not engage an angry Mama Bear.  She earned my respect that day.

Despite any misgivings or protests I may have had (there were a "few"), it is nice that my children see a couple that seem to truly have a connection and care for each other.  They enjoyed helping Oz set up an anniversary dinner and flowers one time and a birthday surprise for Dorothy another day. They are always telling me how much Oz and Dorothy love each other. (At first that made me fluctuate between wanting to puke and wanting to punch someone - now I'm like whatever. Light and Love Bitches! I have my own shit to deal with.)

 Isabella was 2 when we split up, she doesn't even remember us being married and living in the same house. The boys only remember a little.  Now that they all live with a single, dating mom it does concern me that they won't have couples to look up to as examples of what love looks like.  My parents had a great relationship but my dad passed away last year and the kids might be too young to remember how romantic my dad was with surprising my mom and making things special.  So it's good for them to see that type of relationship.

They know that ring means a lot to Oz, we all do.  Dorothy has been away and will be returning this week so Luccio was concerned that she would arrive and discover the ring missing.

So the search was on. After we all thoroughly checked the garbage bins, laundry baskets, and under every piece of furniture Oz finally gave up and went to wash his hands in the bathroom.  And... there was the ring on the edge of the tub.

We all thanked St. Anthony.  Peace was restored.

This reminded me of when one of my students asked me, "Are you a character on a TV show?"
Nope. This is my real life.
Seriously?! WTF has happened here?!

On This Day

Twelve years ago on this day I walked down the aisle, escorted by my father to meet Oz. To swear before God and family and friends that we would bet our lives on forever.  This morning, 12 years later, we met at a commuter lot to exchange our children.  It amazes me how life can change in what feels like a minute.  Forever seemed like such a great idea. When you know, you know and all that.  I was 28 years old and knew exactly what I wanted, marriage, children…a family.  Here I am today at 40 years old and I'm still trying to piece together what exactly all of that means.  Oz and I are not the same people we were that day.  I don't even recognize myself sometimes.  And very often I don't recognize him anymore.  I thought for a long time we are so aligned in our goals and dreams and vision of what was important. But, over the years since our divorce I realize we are sometimes on different pages for so many reasons.  People change. I hear that all the time in different contexts.  It's true. To some degree.  People do change.  We grow up. We grow old.  The world knocks us down.  Each time you get back up, you are changed just a little.  Each person that comes into our lives now steers our paths in different directions.  Divorce has opened our family up to new people. More people. Since I went back into the work force, my community has widened and expanded.  My children now have "school moms" that look out for and love them.  I have "work sisters" that are my support system and my team!  And my lifelong, close circle of friends all rallied around me over the years, they are my village, my family!  As my babies are growing up they have friends that they are getting to know and making their own attachments now. Each person Oz and I bring into our personal lives now become part of our children's lives.  In marriage, you trust your partner and believe and hope that they will have your best interest at heart because they love you. Divorce is different.  Its the biggest leap of faith there is. After a divorce you have to blindly trust that a person you could not keep a forever promise to will effectively co-parent the most important people you will ever know.  In the beginning I would watch my children leave with their father and think "My God my entire life is driving away right now."  After a few years this life has become our "normal."  We have found new patterns that work for us. New schedules, new routines, new rituals, new rules, and new lives. Oz and I still have our disagreements and there is no one that has ever made me feel angrier on this entire planet. But, we have also reached a place where we can talk about things that are important to us again, including the relationships we have with other people. (Nothing weird or awkward about that, right?!) At the end of the day, forever may not have been what I thought it would be or last nearly as long, but I have faith that I did bet on the right person for my children. When push comes to shove, he does have my back and I have his (even when he really pisses me off!)

*In the picture I chose, one of our sons is hiding in the background refusing to take part because he is too cool.  We don't have many post-divorce family pics. SO this one is it, LOL!

The D-Team

My neighbor is a very classy, wise Divorcee. Her motto is: Live a good life! She shared some wisdom with me on how to do that. She said that there are two things a divorced woman needs: Romance and a Handy Man. And those two things do not necessarily have to be from the same person. Another divorced friend of mine completely agrees.  She said it is never smart to rely on one man for all things. After all they are human. It puts everyone at a disadvantage to expect one person to be all things and can result in resentments. So it is smarter to separate romance and household needs.

This made perfect sense to me, especially since dating is it's own shit show! So I took my neighbor's and my friend's advice and set dating aside as it's own category and took inventory of household needs.  I noticed my neighbors Team of people included: Lawn Guy and Restaurant Owner Guy.  Taking care of the yard and having an awesome breakfast are important, so this Team helps make her week easier.

I borrowed Lawn Guy from my neighbor because mowing and whatever else goes into yard work does not fit into my schedule of working full-time and taking care of 3 kids. I also decided my Team would include Deli Guy because egg sandwiches are very important to my mental health and Carpenter Guy to help with painting and projects.  Luckily, Carpenter Guy has also turned out to be an amazing babysitter that my kids love.  Thankfully, my Uncle lives nearby and is great with plumbing, painting and fixing stuff too.

My Divorce Team basically got me through the school year while I was teaching my First Graders and focusing on starting up a new school.

This summer I had to make a few adjustments because Deli Guy turned out to be a hot mess. So I have now switched to my neighbor's Restaurant Owner Guy for my egg sandwiches. There is a lot less drama that way and the toasted rolls are yummy!

Fortunately I have Lawn Guy's number on speed dial because the past couple of weeks I have been on vacation from work and realized that my back yard needed some major help.

I went out there one afternoon and took a look around and realized that the table was still set from when I had company visit in July of 2013!! Basically right after that visit I started at the new school and never looked back. I hadn't even stepped in my yard since last summer. It looked like the apocalypse happened. Tree branches were down from the winter storms, leaves were still there from last Fall.
I looked around and thought, " are you f-ing kidding me right now?! This is your yard?"

At first I thought, no problem I am a strong, independent woman. I have a few hours and leaf blower I can fix this.  But, in the end I only managed to rip up what was left of the lawn and there were moldy leaves and worms flying everywhere. It was beyond disgusting and not feeling very productive.
I thought, "are you f-ing kidding me right now?!"

I came to the realization that a strong, independent woman knows how to admit there may be more qualified people to handle certain things.

I texted Lawn Guy and he showed up with a crew. They removed one of the playscapes, 2 wagons, a picnic table and grill and loads of branches, leaves and misc. shit.  They also cut down down the bushes and overgrown stuff back there.

It looks much better! Not good. But, better.  Of course without all the mess I can now see that the entire house and foundation need to be painted. UGH!

All in all it is smart to have a Team of people around when you need them. It makes the upkeep of a household less overwhelming. It is just that it is a never-ending thing. There is always something broken, needing to be painted or replaced and taken care of. I have been very spoiled over the years to have had my Dad around to do all of these things and not have to worry. Now that he is sick, I am realizing just how underprepared I am to handle household chores.  I feel a little better knowing that if something major is wrong I now have a few people to call.

Although, yesterday my engine light came on in my car and I realized I now need to find Mechanic Guy.  My Dad always handled all the car related issues too.  He taught me enough to know that the coolant was low and the oil was too.  So I was able to replace those. While I was at the gas station doing that Cowboy Hat Wearing Guy stopped to see if I needed help.  I let him take a look to be sure I wasn't blowing up the engine.  The kids thought it was cool that we met a real life Cowboy.  But, unfortunately, it didn't make the engine light go off or the air conditioner come back on. So now on to finding a Mechanic...

Takin' out the Trash

Divorced people arguing is similar to a dog chasing it's own tail; you go round and round in circles, but never actually make any progress. Despite an amicable divorce, Oz and I can debate pretty much anything. Last month, our son had surgery. While we sat in the waiting room we watched Good Morning America. Seemed harmless enough. One of the hosts was being given a party. I thought it seemed like a baby shower since the balloons were pink, blue and white. Oz thought it was a wedding shower because of the white balloons. I noticed a gift basket being presented to her with baby bottles in it. But, Oz insisted it must be for a wedding because he watches the show and I don't and he had heard that the woman was getting married. In the end, it was revealed that she had in fact gotten married over the weekend AND had announced her pregnancy. SO we were both right.
And then…we debated the age of one of the guests Jenna Bush. I thought she looked older, Oz thought younger. I felt her make-up and hairstyle aged her. And on and on until Oz looked it up on google and revealed her age was younger than I thought.  Score one for Oz.

Next, we got into whether or not Bruno Mars was actually playing the drums live during the Super Bowl. At that point, the woman sitting next to us spoke up. The poor soul had been trapped in a tiny waiting room with us. She said, "Wow, I can't wait to see who wins this round."  OMG! I was so embarrassed for us.

The thing is no one wins. It just keeps going. I informed her that there would be no winner, but in the end one of us would leave because we are divorced. She seemed surprised. A lot of people are surprised to find that we are divorced.  She revealed to us that she wished she could get divorced too. I highly recommended it to her. Her poor husband was undergoing surgery while we discussed her running away and never looking back.

But, that is divorced fighting. Circular. The topic can be anything. The results are always the same. There is no winner. It is not much different than married fighting, except it always ends with one person leaving.

Unlike married fighting, there is nothing sacred about it. You don't have to be on your best behavior. There are no rules like "don't go to bed angry." There is nothing to protect either person from the unleashing of built up resentment and anger.  You just dump it all out and pray the other person loves your children enough to not destroy you.

It seems at first like divorce fighting is easier than married fighting because you know how it ends. But, it is actually worse.  You have to work twice as hard to resolve issues and you have more to lose because nothing ties you. There is no contract. It is null and void.  Yet, you are bound to the children you have created and their lives can and will be destroyed by your actions against either parent. So for their mental health you work it out. You resolve issues. You move the fuck on.

No matter what we fight about we have managed to smooth things over enough to have a peaceful life. No one has any extra energy to stay angry and what would be the point of it anyway? So in everyone's best interest things get let go. Rehashed several times over and over and brought up many months down the road in a conversation completely unrelated to the actual issue.  But, let go for all intents and purposes so that everyone can live daily life without being dragged down.

One thing that has not changed is that Oz takes out the trash at my house. By Divine providence, one of "his nights" with the kids also falls on "garbage night." So after the kids go to sleep he takes out the trash as he leaves. I am more than thrilled with this arrangement. Growing up the trash was always my brother's chore and when he moved out my Dad took care of it. After I got married that was Oz's job and one that I do not want to take over. The first week on my own I had to drag the trash out and I hated it. Not that I am not capable. Just don't love it. So Vincenzo took over helping out. I reminded Oz that "garbage night" was still the same and that technically his children make most of the garbage so it is really helping them when he takes it out.  Eventually after a couple weeks, Oz took over again.

It is a simple act - taking the trash out. But, the symbolism is there. Despite our differences, our inability to make forever work, there is something sacred about the family we have created. There is a stability in knowing we will do what needs to be done to ensure our children have good lives.

Only once in the past year and a half he told me to take out my own fucking garbage.  Most times the trash is quietly put out to the curb on his way out, I acknowledge it with a thank you as often as possible.

There are other times (like after one of our more heated arguments that occur monthly or every other month) I might receive a text messaged picture of my overflowing trash can. A subtle reminder from Oz.  The line is thin, tread carefully or take out your own trash! Or it can be a sign of forgiveness for something I have said or done. Or a peace offering from him for whatever I have found fault with at any given moment. Either way that blue can sitting out at the curb on Garbage Night equals Peacefulness. There is nothing more valuable to a divorced family than Peacefulness.

The Green Chair

I feel like I have lived a lifetime since I first saw The Green Chair. It is one of the last remnants of The Ex husband, Oz's s bachelor furniture. It was in his apartment through our dating, engagement and early marriage.  Somehow it ended up making the cut of his belongings that we agreed to bring with us when we bought our house. I won't say I loved that chair.  (In fact, I won't say much of what I thought of the chair because I was only given rights to use the photo if I wasn't going to make fun of The Green Chair. )

 However, I feel The Green Chair does symbolize Oz's style.  He is retro, furniture with metal legs, Star Wars, Pink FLoyd, The Who, The Beatles, skinny jeans,  hoodies, Fluevogs, Doc Martins, Rickenbacker guitars, Apple store products.

When he first moved out he took his guitar, computer and some clothes. Over the past 18 months our house became a holding pattern~ a place I tried to survive in, Home Base for the kids and a storage unit for belongings he may want at some point like his pile of jackets and 6 foot plastic Christmas tree that I will not ever miss. After the divorce was final- slowly, but surely those things made it out.

But, The Green Chair was the last to go. This past holiday season when he moved into a new apartment it was time. When The Green Chair went out the front door, it was the end of a chapter. It had gone full circle.

I stood up that day and noticed my reflection in the mirror on my living room wall and thought to myself, "who the fuck are you?" I looked around my living room and tried to find one piece of furniture that truly symbolized who I was. I came up with nothing. Most of our mutual furniture was given to us as gifts or hand me downs or came with me from my single days. From a lifetime ago.

I used to have a pretty unique decorating style. But, after the premature birth of my babies and holding Luccio through 3 brain surgeries in his first year~ paint and patterns didn't seem so important.

But, since 2014 began I realized it is important. My children need to know I am a person with style and  love for life. I don't want them to look back and think "Who was that lady that raised us?"  It is also important that they know a man doesn't make or break me. Neither does a marriage or divorce. I don't want my little girl to grow up afraid that she will be lost if she risks everything to love. And my boys need to know that women roar loud and clear in all they do starting with their style.

So I started to take inventory of what I love as far as style goes. So far I have realized I like gold, but LOVE silver.  I LOVE purple, but sky blue is beautiful too. Ecru is actually a color and I am going to find a way to use it in my living room. I love fairies, butterflies, fairy tales, windchimes, chandeliers, and candles. I took a quiz on the Homegoods website and my style is "sassy," but I actually prefer whimsical. Thankfully after pinning a dream house on Pinterest I had some ideas to get me started with redecorating. I also had an awesome co-worker, my uncle, my nephew and his girlfriend help me with my home improvement endeavors like painting and hanging pictures. It has been fun to see this house transform. I own it, might as well make it my own now. So room by room, day by day, I am making changes and reinventing and reestablishing. Making space to live the next chapter. Hopefully, happily ever after!

Sayonara Mama

Being a single mom during the holidays sucks. Especially when you throw Fun Dad and Santa into the mix. They come along with their Elfin' energy and shiny new toys and boring Mama is up Shit's Creek without a paddle.  It isn't fun being the person that holds together a broken family. The pieces are heavy and never will fit back together like they were and yet you can't drop them because broken is so much better than shattered.

I worked like a madwoman this year trying to hold onto my house so the kids have a stable place to live and helping to start up a new school so they have a safe place to learn and thrive. And then the holidays came and pointed out every, single glaring fault of mine. The truth stared me in the face. You cannot have it all.

You can't be the person that stays and still be exciting. Fun Dad gets that role. He shows up to play a few hours a week and everyone loves him. He has no rules, if you don't want to take a bath don't. If you want popcorn for lunch, fine. Don't worry about cleaning your room because Fun Dad is picking you up and taking you out on exciting adventures. Leave your mess, your worries, your responsibilities, your nagging mother and let's have fun. Who can resist that??  I wouldn't be able to. In fact, I am jealous. I would love to leave me and my laundry piles and my nagging and go off to have fun for awhile.

In all fairness, it isn't entirely his fault. Divorce sets it up that way. It just does. The day to day has to be someone's responsibility. And it was mine when we were married. He was always Fun Dad.  Of course it won't change now. He backs up the rules and enforces them, but we all know who sets them.

Even harder than resisting is competing with it.  There is no competition. It was obvious this holiday season. When they came home on the last day of school before Christmas break, they had little handmade treasures to give as gifts. And they gave them all to their Dad. The gifts were not much, but they were all they had to give and each one had his name on them.

They went off with Fun Dad and I stayed home trying to collect myself. I had worked so much that I realized it was 3 days before Christmas Eve and I had not shopped, wrapped or sent out Christmas cards.

I tried to sop up my puddle of snot and tears long enough to pull myself together. But, to no avail. I spent more than a few hours that Saturday crying and mourning the loss of every dream I had ever had for a family and future. I pretty much gave in to every dark thought that had haunted me for the past 18 months that I had been shoving away to a remote part of my brain. But, that day it was obvious. I failed.

And to make matters lovelier Fun Dad moved into a shiny, new apartment during the holiday season. An apartment that is bigger than my house. And according to my kids it is way better than our house because it has 2 bathrooms, robotic blinds, and stairs.  I pointed out that our house has stairs too, but Luccio reminded me that "Daddy's stairs are better because they go up. Our stairs go down."

And so I had to hear about the luxury living that Fun Dad is doing and all about the new furniture getting set up, etc.  I put on my happy face and tried to listen with a loving heart. I know my babies just want to be part of his shiny, new life and it is very important that they are. I listened over and over as they told stories of the awesomeness to me and to everyone we know.

And then the final blow was dealt when Vincenzo told me that he still plans to be an engineer when he is older and buy me a big house to live in. But, he will live with Fun Dad and just visit me.  Luccio was very quick to remind us all that he is also going to live with Fun Dad like he has been saying for the past year.

Vincenzo also very generously offered that if I would like to live in Japan on the other side of the world that would be ok too, he would visit sometimes.  Thanks Buddy.  Japan?? Maybe Italy!

Thankfully, I have my beautiful baby girl. She said she would live with me. Girls with Mama and boys can go with Daddy.  Oh, Darling!! Thank you!!! The one person left on Earth that is still loyal to Mama! Those boys would leave me for a second bathroom and a set of stairs!

I had all these holiday plans and unrealistic images of us making wonderful memories of the glorious season. In the end, the kids ditched me to go sleepover Fun Dad's a couple days before and spent Christmas Eve with him. I thankfully had fun celebrating with my cousins. And I was able to have the kids home for Christmas morning to open gifts. Although that didn't go as planned either. Luccio's big gift from Santa didn't work, another failure for Mama. Our Christmas tree died and smelled like cat pee and we don't even have a cat, so it had to be moved outdoors. So our Christmas morning pics are of a pink, plastic tree Isabella set up for us. The kids were exhausted and cranky from their days of celebrating with Fun Dad. Isabella had a major meltdown and refused to wear her beautiful dress, opting instead for an orange t-shirt and blue leggings. I had a terrible sinus infection and was beyond exhausted, so let her. I even paid her a few bucks to let me brush her hair so she wouldn't look like the Crazy Cat Lady. I tried to put on a happy face, but ended up crying into my coffee.

One benefit of having Fun Dad around, is that he is fun.  And he loves those kids. So he was there on Christmas morning to make belgium waffles, which we all love! He put together all of the toys and helped everyone get set up for the day.  He kept the mood joyful. And the kids were over the moon to have us all in one place for a little while. It is good for them to know that not all traditions die with Divorce.

Later that day, it took every ounce of my being to get the kids to my parents' house. Thankfully, we went. It finally felt like the Christmas I was hoping for. My parents and brother and cousins made the day feel amazing. My parents' house is our stable place. Through the worst of times and in the best of times, my parents have been there to take care of us. The kids know it, I know it. So it feels like home. It also helped that there was a ton of food, gifts and a megaphone!

So all the cards did not get mailed, some gifts did not get bought or wrapped. My kids made new traditions without me.  But, the world didn't end. I survived it, with help from my family and a few glasses of wine.  And Isabella declared it was "the best Christmas ever!"   So I guess it wasn't a complete failure.