Feeling More Like Mommy Dearest than June Cleaver

Have you ever felt like you're just a puppet and somewhere your master is laughing his ass off? I do. Often.

When I felt like I was good at the whole "marriage" thing, someone yanked a string and said, "Now try dating!"

Just when I felt I had mastered the art of raising kids, someone said, "Ha Ha, now try pre-teens...alone!"

I was a stay home Mom rockstar, now I'm more like the rockstar's overworked, under-appreciated assistant.

For the past couple of weeks, I've felt like I'm failing miserably at life. The kids feel like all I do is nag, I feel like Honey wants to run for the hills, and I am sinking in a pile of shit at work.

I've always been a firm believer in balance. When life seemed off-kilter, I could make a little adjustment and return balance-and peace. Now I feel as though every slight adjustment I make just causes a misalignment elsewhere.

I try to get the boys to be more responsible with their chores and homework, and end up feeling like Joan Crawford. This parenting alone shit sucks! How exactly do you discipline and enforce rules AND be the caring loving one-all the time. I'm clearly missing out on some secret trick of the trade.

I try to spend a little more time with Honey. That obviously fails as it leaves the boys feeling like I never hang with them, AND I'm typically just fucking up one thing or another anyway. I try to make him dinner cause he's working late, only I don't get it done in time. I take off early so I'll have time to cook on a busy night, and someone else rearranges my plans. I seriously can't think of one reason he is with me. AND, I'm glad he doesn't read this blog cause I certainly don't want to point that out to him.

I bust my ass day after day trying to get caught up at work, but something is always in the way. It's usually incompetent coworkers throwing me curve-balls, but that's another rant.

People! I need your help. How the hell do you balance it all?!? Did someone put a hex on me? Is there some kind of chant or dance I can do to get this off me? Must I burn sage and march backward? Seriously, I will try anything to cleanse my life of this perpetual unbalanced-ness.

I used to be good at things. I really miss that.

History Has Taught Me Well...and Screwed With My Head

Honey said something tonight that really let me know where we stand. It was disheartening. Rather than panic, I chose to let all of his words sink in.

We were discussing Punkin's feelings toward him, and how it's not that he doesn't like him so much as he just doesn't like the idea of me being married to anyone. That's when Honey said, "He needs to not worry about it. It's not like we're ready to get married. I'd like to marry you some day, but right now just isn't the right time. When it's right we'll know it." So, let's just dissect this piece by piece:

"It's not like we're ready to get married." - This is where my heart sank and my brain set off warning signals-RUN! GET OUT NOW, BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!

"I'd like to marry you some day, but right now just isn't the time." - He who has always condemned marriage just said he'd like to marry me someday? Really?!? Interesting turn. This is where my heart rate went back to normal and the panic stopped.

"When it's right, we'll know it."- I'm really not sure where I stand on this one. A large part of me has always believed this to be true in everything, from picking a husband to choosing a Christmas tree. I have always been a wait-for-the-sign kinda girl. However, lately, I've been leaning more towards the there's-no-such-thing-as-the-perfect-time philosophy. I'm not quite sure where marriage fits in this change of mindset. Something to contemplate.

During our entire relationship, I've run into these milestones that I am ready to jump at, and he has held off. It was the same when I knew I loved him. I had to bite my tongue NOT to say it; I knew he just wasn't ready. I almost went into self-destruct mode, torturing myself about why he didn't feel the same and doubting that I really knew how much he cared. (It takes very little for me to begin doubting that I know how he feels about me. If I was so grossly wrong before, who's to say I'm right to let myself be so vulnerable now? (It's a particularly nasty divorce leftover.) I think I've learned to just slow it down and enjoy this time. He was right to hold off before; I definitely loved him more the day I finally said it than when I first realized it. He is making the right choices for us, so now it's my job to keep my feet on the ground and love the man I am with-no matter where it's going.

Let's Hope They're On The Plane

My boys are scheduled to return from their first 6-week summer visit with their Dad on Wednesday. I should be overjoyed and beside myself with excitement, but I’m not. I think my mind just won’t let it happen until I see them walk off that plane-and for good reason.

Their Dad moved away mid-December, and we had agreed that the boys could spend Christmas with he and his family despite the fact that our custody hearing had not yet been set. It was their first time visiting him out-of-state, and our first time apart for Christmas. I was so excited to pick them up from the airport that I arrived an hour early. But, as I stood near the gate-stand and watched 2 other sets of unaccompanied minors get brought to their Moms, my heart started thumping. It became very clear in a very short amount of time that the boys weren’t on that plane. I was surrounded by airline employees panicking and assuring me that they had not lost my children, and I knew very well that that wasn’t the case. I told them that I understood, that their Dad had just kidnapped them. I stood there shaking and crying, my heart beating so loud that I was sure everyone could hear it. Passengers who were waiting to board the plane sat and watched the whole seen unfold as I screamed into the phone at my ex-father-in-law who wouldn’t tell me where the boys were, and calm down a little while my lawyer explained what would happen next. I’m never one to cause a scene, but that day, it really didn’t matter what was going on in the world around me. Cause they weren’t on the plane.

It took 45 minutes of phone calls to discover that my ex had told his parents that the flight left at night, and no one had even bothered to look at the itinerary. I had a good talk with the boys, scheduled them for the next flight (the next morning), and headed to the exit. I made it about halfway before I sat on the floor and bawled like baby. It took at least another 20 minutes of me sobbing on the phone with my best friend before I was able to stand and leave. For 30 minutes, I was sure that my ex had taken them, and that was the most traumatic experience of my life.

So, everyone will just have to excuse me if I don’t get excited right now. I just don’t think I have it in me to do that again.

The Positive Side

My boys have been gone for exactly 16 days. When I looked it up on the calender to give you an exact number, I re-counted 3 times. It feels much longer. I have spoken to them one time. My oldest has texted me 6 times-most of which weren't nice. And tonight when I logged on to Facebook to spy on them-to feel like I knew some of what was going on with them-I discovered that my 12 yr-old had listed his parents as being his Dad and his grandmother-not me. Not the one who puts a roof over his head, not the one who does his laundry, knows the names of all his friends and girlfriends, not the one who cares about his grades, or how he's coping with his Dad's decision to leave. He didn't choose me. But through the tears and wine, I learned a valuable truth. They will grow up to be whatever they choose to be. To live their life how they choose, and no matter what happens, two things will remain: I will know that I gave them every opportunity to choose the right path and that I will not be alone.

As I was ranting, crying and drinking my wine, Honey was here to listen, to care, and to cut me a single pink rose to try and make me smile. Many times during our weekend away, I thought about how much more comfortable I am with him than I ever have been with anyone. With him, I can be myself. I can eat chocolate in bed, take forever to get ready, need to pee every single hour on a long car-ride, and I can be my goofy self. And, he loves me for all of those things. I've never experienced that before. During 10 years of what I thought was a good marriage, I never felt that comfortable. I never felt like I could have my own feelings about things and just lay it all out for someone else to hear. Honey gives me that. So tonight, when I had that moment of wanting to just give up on my kids, I was able to say it and he knew that it was just my broken heart talking. He knew to grab the closet thing that would make me smile and to let me know that he would always be here. Out of a horrible, crappy moment, he was able to show me that everything would be fine. I really don't know how I would survive without him. Scary, but true.

More Vodka, please...

The boys are off to Seattle to visit the Rat Bastard. That's how I'm referring to him now-mostly because I can and he is. I think I'm doing good so far...

Day 1:  Held it together pretty good until I walked in the door from the airport and got a call, "I'm looking for _____. I'm calling from Southwest Airlines in regards to Bugger Butt who is flying as an unaccompanied minor (this is where I believe I suffered a minor stroke and heart attack). Turns out it's just a courtesy call. I've never had someone give me a fucking heart attack as a courtesy before. Just as I stopped shaking from that incident, I received a random text from the Rat Bastard informing me that if I am going to fly Bugger Butt unaccompanied, then I'd better make sure he's not a jerk to those accompanying him. Now, Bugger Butt's not the type of kid to cause a problem, but his Dad thinks he's a spoiled brat, so this left me worrying. Dear Lord, is he in trouble with his Dad already? He's the only person I know that would let a 12 yr old talk like a sailor, but give an hour-long ass-chewing to a 10 yr old for putting his elbows on the table. Bugger Butt's prone to getting in trouble when with his Dad, and I'm prone to getting blamed for it. At this point, I reached past the margarita and went straight for vodka on the rocks.

Day Two:  My parents send me a text asking how bad my hangover is...apparently I am predictable.

Day Three: Yay Me! I get to go to a birthday party with all of Rat Bastard's former coworkers. The ones who don't know me call me a whore who walked out on her family. You'd have to know me to understand the humor in this. I'm far from a whore (far, far from it) and...well, Rat Bastard walked out on me. I'm thinking a good shot of vodka will be in order before I hit up this fun affair. Matter of fact, I think I may just throw the bottle in the freezer now! Maybe I should go bra-less or where a ring on "that" finger just to fuck with them all. If they're going to talk anyway, let's give them something to talk about!