It's Been A Long Time - Next Time Will Be Better, I Swear!

I have been so busy at work lately - I have sort of fallen out of the habit of posting. I know that I am being paid to actually work while I'm at work, and believe me, I feel plenty guilty that I don't give it my all, all the time. But let's face it: between the stuff at home (kids, cars, house, etc.) and the divorce crap, a half hour or hour at work is really the only time I have to do it, when I also have the energy to do it! I could give you a list of stuff that has happened lately, but it's all gross and I don't want to think about it, let alone write about it.

Suffice it to say that my car broke only 6 weeks after the warranty expired, and it cost me over $200 to get it fixed - it was possessed by something otherworldly, which caused the lights and dials and gauges and stuff to go on by themselves, even when the switches were off. Oh, yeah, and it wouldn't start. On the bright side, it turned out to be a relatively simple problem which was corrected by replacing the battery, and it didn't cost the $400 that the dealership told me it would. But it was still a lot of running around for parts and stuff, and I had to make my dad help me (I still suffer guilt because he is 70 and I should be helping him, not him still taking care of me...).

One of the twins is not turning in her math homework again. On her first junior high school report card, she got around a 2.9 or 3.0 or something like that. Which I would say was fine, except that I know she can do so much better than that. Her sister got a 3.9, fer pete's sake - all A's and only one A-! I know that one just "does" school better, but still - I would've thought their grades would have been a little closer. That is the downside about having multiples - the regrettable tendency to compare them to one another, and always find one of them "less than" the other. Don't get me wrong, I love them equally! But I catch myself thinking, "I wish this one was as organized as that one," or "Why can't that one be as accommodating as this one?" For me, at least, it is a constant struggle to appreciate them each for their own individual strengths and not always be wishing that each had the other's strengths, too. And this is not helped by the fact that THAT one won't do her math homework!!!

And since I am complaining about school stuff, I might as well tell you that Cyd growled at her Foods teacher (sigh...). I guess I am used to it when Cyd goes "Urgggggh!!!" at me, and I just laugh it off. However, I can see how a teacher might be shocked if she got that noise, just for asking Cyd to copy down a recipe. So, now I can't laugh about it anymore; I need to train Cyd to realize that growling is not "socially appropriate."

And then there's the whole divorce thing. We are still battling over finances and assets and all that. I long for the day when my description of "me" can just be about me, and not include "soon-to-be-divorced" as one of the qualifiers.

I am truthfully less angry with Mr. Soon-to-be-Ex about all the mechanics of the divorce than I am about the idea he seems to have that you can divorce your kids as easily as you can your spouse. Sure, we have been squabbling back and forth about possessions. I continue to doubt his continuing denial of the existence of any type of "inappropriate relationship" with a woman he works with. I am irritated that I have just now discovered a mysterious multi-hundred dollar expenditure in an out-of-state jewelry store that occurred back in April, especially since the person he is NOT having a relationship with (yeah, right!)happens to live in the town where said jewelry store purchase occurred. Hmmm, I think I would remember if I were the recipient of anything from such a store, don't you? But that's all petty crap which, in the long run, doesn't mean much.

However, I am completely bewildered as to how Mr. Soon-to-be-Ex either is not aware, or just plain doesn't care, that his slavish devotion to his own happiness has so negatively impacted his own children in one way or another. I have had to explain to Cyd more than once that the whole concept of divorce means that Daddy doesn't get to have a birthday party at Grandpa Bob's this year, even if Dad's birthday is in December, because that was Daddy's choice. Do you think he's even explained that once?

I have another child in therapy now because she is struggling so much. All the therapist had to do was ask her where her dad lived, and the shaky hold she has on her emotions just burst. She could barely choke the words out through her tears. Why doesn't he get to witness this, and feel the knife twist in his gut the way it twists in mine when I see how miserable they are? The therapist asked her what her dad was like, and the only answer she could think of was, "He's in the Army." You know, I think I could tell you a dozen things about my dad, and never once mention what he does (or did) for a living.

Granted, I am an adult with supposedly better communication skills, but still....I would be embarassed if my kids ever thought of me as such a one-trick pony. And I'd be ashamed if any child of my own grew up to be that way, too. How could I have lived with and loved a man such as this for all those years? Were those years a lie, or is who he is now the lie?

Oh, now look: I wasn't going to write about any of this crap because it was just all too gross, and here I ended up doing it anyway. Next time, if I can't think of anything more fun, I am going to borrow a cute idea from my cousins and make a list of 100 things about me which WILL NOT contain anything about car trouble, kid trouble, or divorce crap.

Somedays, it's a miracle....

Anyone who has no children, or only has very young (i.e., baby) children, will probably think I am the worst mother in the world when I say this - nevertheless, I offer the following confession: sometimes, one of my children will make me so mad that for at least a minute or so, I think I might gladly be able to peel off her skin and toast her over an open flame.

Case in point: One of my girls, who shall remain nameless at this point to protect the guilty, brought home a paper from school the other day. Mind you, this is a child who tests smarter than 97% of kids her age (this is the honest truth - I am not making up random numbers just to brag). School has only been in session for two weeks, but she brought home a paper from her algebra teacher two days ago that said she was getting a C+ so far - and that if she didn't have at least a B+ by the time mid-terms rolled around, she would be put into pre-algebra, instead. This particular child had pre-algebra in the 6th grade, and she managed to do just fine, so I was both puzzled and concerned.

I therefore went to discuss the matter with this daughter. "What's going on, sweetheart?" I asked. "Have you turned in all of your assignments? Is it just that much harder than last year? What can I do to help?"

"No, Mama," she said, her voice cracking. "I've turned in all my assignments. It's just too hard. I get too many wrong! I don't know what you can do to help because I don't know what to dooooo!!" she ended on a wail.

At this point, my heart is breaking as her tears overflow and run down her cheeks. "Oh, my poor baby!" I think. I fold her in my arms, and give her a hug and tell her everything will be OK - we'll figure something out, because she'd feel bad if she had to go back to pre-algebra, wouldn't she? Yes, she said. She would.

So, being the proactive mom, I e-mail the algebra teacher and ask, "What concepts is she just not getting? Is there anything in particular I can work with her on?"

The teacher responds, and I quote: "The concept of the importance of turning in all of her assignments would be a good place to start!"

Grrrr. Like I said, for at least a split second, I could've gladly squished her like a grape. Somedays, it's a miracle they survive....

The Incredible Shrinking Problems!

The kids started back to school this week - Cyd in high school, and the twins in junior high. It has been kind of hectic, to say the least, as we have reviewed, read, and/or signed lists of school supplies, class disclosures, permission slips, bus schedules, and so on. Cyd has had a hard time trying to decide which pictures to take to show her teachers. Bretten has had to figure out how to get her violin to third period out in the armory, after her second period Spanish class that is upstairs and clear on the other side of the building, since she doesn't have time to visit her locker in between. And Mychael has had to figure out how to see the board in her algebra class, since she is so tiny and, thanks to the teacher's seating chart, has ended up sitting behind a much-bigger eighth grader (one with an afro, no less).

As I talked with each girl over the past few days about these "problems," I found myself thinking about my own days in junior high and high school. Remember when your biggest problem was finding something "cool" to wear? Or whether that cute boy in 4th period would actually talk to you today or not? Back then, it was the absolute end of the world if your best jeans were in the laundry, or if Cute Boy didn't even look at you that day! I compare those problems to the ones I have on my plate today - things like, "When will this @#$! divorce ever be final?" "Will I ever find someone I trust enough and care about sufficiently, to marry again?" "And if I do, what if, 20 years from now, he turns out to be as big of a jerk as the first one?" "Will my house ever sell?" "How am I going to get all the crap and clutter out of my house in time for my yard sale?" "How am I going to get the kids through this first holiday season without their dad?"

Those kinds of "heavier" concerns made it especially nice to set them aside for a little bit, and concentrate on possible solutions for my girls' issues. Those school-girl issues seem so light in comparison!! However, in the process, I also realized that 20-25 years from now, my girls will look at the problems of choosing pictures, getting classroom materials to the right place at the right time, and seeing around large afros as being relatively minor problems, too. On the one hand, that's kind of sad because one of the reasons those formerly major issues become minor, is because you now have larger issues to compare them to! However, I also think the human brain is designed to forget trauma. Otherwise, who would ever be pregnant more than once, or get back on a bicycle after a particularly nasty fall, or make peace with someone after an argument?

Whatever the reason for big issues shrinking with the passage of time, I can only hope that it will eventually apply to my current problems, too - I want to look back at them and realize that they really weren't as big as I think they are now. It just better not take 20-25 more years for that to happen - I am not that patient!