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.

Folding Laundry and Moving On August 24, 2009

While putting away my clean basket of socks and underwear, I found a long, white, man’s sock.  

Shit.  Really?  I thought to myself.  Boy, I move fast and don’t do laundry very often.

It has been 10 days since I broke up with Ex-boyfriend.  It’s been 20 days since I last saw him.  I haven’t washed socks in 20+ days.   And there they were.  His socks.  When I saw them in my hamper 20 days ago, I remember him saying, “Could you please wash them for me?”

I growled and agreed.

I swear it looks like they’re staring at me from my bedspread, limp and reminding me that he probably wants his socks and a couple CDs back.  I want my bathrobe and lotion back.  AND MY COFFEE GRINDER!  I just remembered.  Shit, shit, shit.  I’ve been using my roommate’s, but we won’t live together forever….I don’t think.  

Well, that lit a fire under my ass to return each other’s items.

The Seeker – Talk Thursday February 24, 2009

I have always sought for more knowledge with my mom. She has been a spiritual driving force, a seeker, for my entire life.

Philosophical Debate? I choose my mom as my opponent, though we’re usually on the same side.

She also has more time to seek information and pass it along to me, such as, the Awakening discs from Bill Harris. By the way, I listened to the introduction and fell asleep half way through. Since I didn’t remember the last thing I heard on the disc, I haven’t gone back to listen to it again. I did that right before the housesitting. I want to start. It’s on my wishlist of creating or setting aside time every day to meditate. I think it would benefit me.

The last two days, I have felt even more like myself. Yesterday, I organized my food cabinet and cleaned my fridge shelf. I meal planned for this week, including lunches. Then, I went to the grocery store, list in hand, separated by store section:

produce
canned/pkg
dairy
baked
frozen
other

I made dinner last night using a recipe. I haven’t done that since October. We all sat down to dinner together, me and Girlfriend and the kids.

I got up early this morning and cleaned the dishes and the kitchen, showered, fed myself and the kids, made tea for Girlfriend, and vacuumed the living room. I headed to work for an even more productive day there!

Anyway, point of the story, I got a text message this morning at 8 a.m. asking if I was up.

Up? Does this person know me or not?

Yes, I’m up, I texted, and included the list of things above.

I noted how opposite I am of this person in this regard. He’s a night owl, which I can be, but my life doesn’t really allow it. Insomnia plays a part with my night owl behavior. Being a night owl doesn’t work for me anymore when I wake up every day at 6:30 or earlier without an alarm.

Nope, it doesn’t matter what time I have fallen asleep or how little sleep I have had in the preceding days. I wake up early and rarely fall back to sleep. It’s something I’m working to improve. I’d like to sleep more.

So, here I sit typing when I should be in bed where I usually am at this hour, slumber sought and conquered.

I also have to wonder if feeling like my old self is really my old self or if it’s the self I developed because of my marriage. I had a regimen to follow: meal plan, cleaning, work, dishes, grocery shopping, organizing.

I think it’s the real me. I’ll let you know. I’m still seeking aspects of myself these days.