Talk Thursday – Mea Culpa November 5, 2009

As a woman who grew up in Utah in the Mormon culture, I learned that everything is a woman’s fault.  Awesome.  I am the kind of person who feels responsible for almost everything and everyone.  I am the kind of person that takes responsibility for things that are not my fault.  I’d like to change this.  

When I was married, everything was my fault.  Why?  Because everything was my responsibility.  

When Ex went missing, I came back to find him after making sure Little Guy was somewhere safe.  I could have called the Sheriff’s office and told them I had a hunch, and would they please go and check it out.  But I didn’t.  It didn’t even cross my mind that day.  I know that Ex wanted ME to find him, and that I would, and that I would take care of everything, like always.  And I am.  

Last night when I was putting Little Guy to bed, Y&H came upstairs to tell me that he had to make our bed.  ”Oh yeah,” I said.  ”Sorry.  I washed the sheets.”  

Wait.

Sorry for what?  I have been moving by myself to the new house this week, cleaning the new house, and cooking dinner every night, and I’m sorry that I didn’t get around to putting the sheets back on the bed?  For not doing everything?  No!

I went to bed where Y&H was already asleep, exhausted from walking 15 miles that day during his Elk hunting.  I tossed and turned a bit thinking about how I had gotten myself into the same relationship that I had experienced before with Ex.

But wait.  This one’s different.  I can talk to Y&H.  So, I vowed to talk to him this morning before he left in his day-glow orange suit.  

When we woke up, he asked what time I came to bed.  I told him 9:20 p.m., after I had fallen asleep twice with Little Guy, then I couldn’t sleep because of my thought about our relationship.  

“What were you thinking about?” he asked.

I took a breath and felt anxiety in my belly.  ”Was it a big deal that you had to make the bed last night?” I asked him as he put his clothes on. 

“No.  Did you think it was?” he asked.  

“Yeah.”

“Why?” he asked.  

“I’m just a little sensitive to that.  It would have been a big deal to Ex.  I had to do everything,” I said.

“I’m nothing like him, except for one day every three months,” he said.  (He has a bad day about that often.)  He sat on the bed and leaned over me so we could see each other’s faces outlined in the pre-dawn light.  ”I told you.  I cook.  I clean.  It doesn’t bother me.  I was just letting you know that I made the bed,” he said.   

“Oh, good!” I said with relief.  ”I thought I had gone and done it again just when I was thinking that this one (relationship) would really work.”

We kissed goodbye and had a laugh.  Whew, for once it’s NOT my fault.  If I had kept that silly wondering inside and let it harbor and breed resentment toward Y&H, that would be my fault.

Date Night October 24, 2009

I went on a date last night, a real honest-to-goodness date.  I needed daycare today while I was at work, but Little Guy’s daycare woman needed him there early in order to make her dog’s vet appointment.  She knows that I never get Little Guy to her very early, so she suggested he spend the night there on Friday.  ”Okay!” I said.  That was Tuesday.  

I was so excited at the prospect of having a night to go out on the town with Y&H that I called him almost immediately on Tuesday evening to tell him of the opportunity.  We had many ideas of what we would do for date night, and we agreed that whatever we did, we would go out.  Last time we had a night to ourselves, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep on the living room floor at his house, fully-clothed, at 10:45 p.m.  We were supposed to go out to see a band that night, but I didn’t have the energy or desire to expose myself to the various, airborne diseases going around.  

Thursday night we agreed that we would go to dinner in a nearby town and then take a soak in the hot springs.  It sounded so relaxing, so I made myself a pedicure appointment for right after work.  I hadn’t enjoyed a pedicure since Little Guy’s first birthday, so I decided that after 3-and-a-half years, it was time.  I also knew the better I took care of myself, the better prepared I would be to spend a great evening with Y&H and take care of Little Guy after work today.  

At the salon, I picked “An Affair in Red Square” by OPI, a glistening red that reminded me of a marbled bowling ball.  It’s too bad that Y&H is color-blind.  I should have picked a trendy gray, just to mess with him.  Next time, maybe I will.  

I finally got done with the pedicure, an hour and a half later, callus-free, and picked up Y&H.  I said that I would drive to dinner, if he would drive us home.  I felt so tired.  We went to the old house to let the dog out & back in, then off we went to dinner.  We had a delicious, tender prime rib dinner that I didn’t have to pay for.  At the car, Y&H got my door for me.  He reminded me that we were on a date, and that he was going to do those kinds of things.  I am so not used to this kind of chivalry, even after 3 months of dating Y&H.  We drove to the hot springs and soaked and talked and laughed and kissed.  

We got home to my old house around 11:15 p.m., and I thanked him for dinner and the soak.  He thanked me for not fighting him about paying.  I’m also not used to men paying for dates, at least not regularly.  We talked until about midnight, then went to bed.  We both agreed earlier in the car that we should have a weekly date night.  Now that I have Little Guy full-time, I think it sounds like a necessary and welcome event to keep the good thing that Y&H and I have going.

Definition October 18, 2009

What is the term to call yourself when your ex-husband dies?  I feel like a widow, but I’m not legally a widow.  That’s what it feels like, and another friend of mine said that she felt that way when her ex-husband died, too, even though they had been divorced for 2 years rather than 6 months.  So, I guess that makes me an ex’s widow, or a widowed ex-wife, or just a full-time mom by Little Guy’s daddy’s choice.

Moreover, why do we feel a need to define relationships?!?  Why bother trying to define a relationship with a dead person?

While in the early, non-committed stages of my relationship with Y&H, he would ask me to define our relationship.  Are we dating, seeing each other, etc.?  We decided that we had a monogamous, non-committed relationship.  It made us laugh.  Now we’re each other’s lobsters, as in, dating, seeing each other, monogamous and committed to each other.

Unforgettable August 15, 2009

Yesterday I turned 30.  I want to remember it like this:

I slept in, took Little Guy to daycare, and then got a back rub while watching the “Rocky & Bullwinkle” movie.

I went to work at the restaurant and worked hard because it was busy.  I made some bucks.  I finished eating lunch at 5.

I picked up Little Guy and went home where I found a card and a Hip Hop Party CD from Girlfriend Roomie.  Upstairs, her boyfriend had bought me a cake made of chocolate cookie with a chocolate ganache on top.  The kids and I went downstairs to have a dance party.  I danced and sang.  They didn’t.  They read books under Little Guy’s bed.  I drank a vodka tonic.  Mommy needed a birthday drink.  Tonic sprayed everywhere when I opened it.

I texted back and forth with someone I’ll refer to as “Young & Handsome,” or Y&H for short.  He wanted to meet me for some dancing.  Girlfriend and I planned to go out, since Guy Roomie agreed to stay home with the kids after they fell asleep.  Girlfriend had homework to finish first.

After dinner, the kids and I had another dance party and we ALL danced.  Then it was PJ time.  I put Little Guy to bed, snuggled him, then waited for him to fall asleep.

Then Boyfriend called.  And I told him that I didn’t want to feel tied down anymore.  I want to see other people.  I’m not ready for a relationship so recently after my divorce, and I had jumped into this one too soon.  He was sad, told me he loves me, and we hung up.  He understood.  We may still hang out, but it feels tainted now.  

Little Guy fell asleep just after 10 p.m.  I texted Young & Handsome that I could go out.  Free of child responsibility.  Free of a serious relationship and any future guilt that may occur.  I felt relieved, a little sad, and then liberation bubbled up and burst out like the tonic water had earlier.  I smelled the 30 red, birthday roses in my bedroom, said “later” to Girlfriend who was still doing homework, and headed out. 

I met up with Young & Handsome at the Highway and got in his truck.  He smelled like grape lip balm and had styled his coarse hair into a short, spiky, upwards hairdo.  He’s so young and pretty I thought.  I complimented him on his hair.

We checked out the music scene down the road, then decided to head over the hill for some better and different action.  We went to a bar in the town and had a drink while listening to a solo guitarist playing 90’s college scene music.  It wasn’t what I was looking for, so I said, “You’re so young and pretty.  Let’s go for a walk up the street.”  I knew a good dancing place, and he’d never been there before.

We took a walk up there, and I had a couple more vodka-somethings and then we boogied to the live DJ spinning tunes that mostly he knew.  We danced.  We got jiggy with it.  Ta-na-na-na-na-na.  Okay, maybe not.  We had fun, fun, fun, and Daddy didn’t take the T-Bird away.  

He’s not the best dancer, but he’s not the worst.  He’s way fun to dance with.  We’ve danced together before.  One night, he tried to dance dorkier than I do, but failed and gave the crown back to me.  I am un-out-dorkable!  Thank you, Sid, for teaching me some awesome moves!

It was an unforgettable 30th birthday!

On a personal note June 2, 2009

I’m still living with Roomie and her family.  My room is almost always a mess.  I realized that this is due to having two people living in one room.  We’re enjoying it, even though we’re cramped.  Roomie finished the bathroom downstairs which made life a lot easier for everyone.  We still have just one shower and hot water issues at this time.  

Boyfriend and I have exited the Honeymoon phase of our relationship.  As he spent a month on the road, and I took care of his dogs and place, I realized more about myself and what I want from a partner.  I started a new list.  It includes some qualities that Boyfriend has, such as, that he likes to cook and we have a fabulous, passionate relationship, he’s great with kids, and we can talk about dang near anything without fear of offending the other.  He doesn’t have it all, though, and I’m starting to take issue with it, like the messy, messy house and religious differences and alcohol consumption.

Then, I started a gratitude journal.  I don’t write in it daily, but almost.  Mostly it contains the moments to cherish that happen between me and Kevin, like him staying right by me in the grocery store, or putting on pajamas when I tell him to.  What a good boy!  I love his age.  Anything good that happens or I think about, I write it down.  Sometimes, I write about the noises I hear in the field, like the frogs or the wind chimes, or coming home to herds of elk in the yard.  Talk about reverence!

I got approved for state aid to help with daycare costs today.  Holy fiddlesticks, I’m going to be okay for a while.  They will probably deny aid to me come winter.  We’ll see what happens.  Who knows where I’ll be living or working by then.  I’d like to get out of this mountain town.  I miss the city.  I miss opportunities.  I miss lots of live music venues.  I miss short drives to see live music that isn’t just hippie mountain music.  Nothing against hippies.  I just want more variety and zen centers and dance classes and color in my world.