These are just one or two of my good friends.

3/2/12

The hurt (in the) closet.


I’ve thought long and hard about sharing this particular part of my journey, but I had to wait until the chapters wrote themselves.   It’s been an incredibly painful left turn, and one that I never, ever could have predicted.



But it happened nonetheless.


I remember, years ago, watching the movie Kramer vs Kramer.  Remember when Meryl Streep left Dustin Hoffman, and left her son as well?  At the time I thought, “How could she leave her child?  HOW?  I would NEVER, EVER leave my child.”  I hated Meryl, and had to remember that she was playing a character that I didn't respect.   In fact, it wasn’t until recently that my mind raced back to that very person, and I looked at her as if I’d never seen her before.


How young and naïve I was back then - to judge someone’s actions without walking in their shoes. (Sure, it was a damn movie, but come on.) 



I left my home, the life I knew.  I left a marriage, a house, gardens, neighbors and a life I was comfortable with.   And, after many discussions, my children chose to stay behind.   They chose to stay in the only home they knew, and while we discussed over and over and over the fact that I was not leaving THEM but the marriage, it was an incredible blow that I never imagined I would have to take.  

But I respected their wishes.  The girls were in college, and while my heart was broken I knew they would have to find their way.  I had to be patient, and allow their hearts to guide them.   And for reasons that will remain private, it wasn’t long before they joined me.

But my Golden Boy?  He was 12, and we had agreed that I would see him almost every day.  At least that was the plan.  And of course the most well-laid plans often go terribly awry.


And they did.


I remember the words he spoke to me so early in this painful journey, “Mom, I know that you love me.”

I held those words close to my heart, as it was broken over and over throughout this ordeal.  I remember thinking and preparing for the fact that the girls might need more time to adjust- and then being blindsided by the fact that HE was the one who turned this journey upside down.


And now as we find a comfortable rhythm in this dance of divorce, I have come to realize certain things.  


Yes, a boy will always, always love his mother; but he also needs his father.  



And sometimes, probably most of the time, the father needs the son. 



While I was busy trying to save my own life- I’ve realized that the boy was busy saving his dad’s.  And I can never, ever fault him for that.



In fact, I would expect nothing less of any child of mine.






Nothing less.







2/28/12

She comes in with a bag full of surprises. (But some of them give me a headache..)



I never know what she will bring with her to school each day, and I look forward to every bit of it with great anticipation and a tiny drop of dread.




She’s no bigger than a minute, incredibly gorgeous already and full of spit and vinegar.  Frankly (and no, I’m not talking about my dog) she reminds me a tad bit of the tiny version of myself. 






She, along with several other children, attend what we call “the number club” at the end of the day.  They go with the learning support teacher (for only a few minutes) and practice numbers and number sense in the hopes that we can bring them up to speed by the end of the year.



Today their departure was coinciding with our recess and Sasha was livid.  “Do NOT GO OUTSIDE!” she turned and yelled at us as they unhappily exited the room.



“I won’t!  We’ll wait for you!”  I assured her.



Then, as they walked down the hall we instructed the children to clean up and prepare for recess.  (Yeah, I know.)





They bundled up and went outside with the other classes, teachers and my pre-student teacher.  I stayed behind to furiously pack folders and clean the paper, glue, glitter, crayon and marker explosion that occurs daily.   I was wiping off a table when I heard a faint yelling coming from the hallway. I lifted my head to see Sasha come barreling into the room dragging the special teacher behind her. I had forgotten that their room had a bird's eye view of the playground.



“YOU LIED!    YOU LIED!” She yelled furiously.  “You said they would WAIT for ME! You lied!!”



“We just went out Sasha.” I tried to say calmly.  “We knew you were coming in two minutes, and we JUST went out.” 


But she was not be placated.   She turned to get her coat and yelled, AGAIN, “YOU LIED TO ME!” 





Then she looked at the special teacher, threw her hands in the air and yelled, “What kind of place IS THIS, anyway??” 



I laughed as she ran out, and then sat on the table and thought.  Well, it’s the kind of place where your teacher will say and do anything to help you learn. And she might not always make the right decisions.  But each and every one is made with love.



Lots and lots of love.







(Yeah, I’m bringing in treats tomorrow.  Sometimes, just sometimes,  the teacher needs to make amends…)
























2/26/12

What's good for the goose is good for the (Oh hell, I had to spread the wealth...)


Bitchy has been begging me for months to buy her a ridiculously high-priced necklace.  I’ve chosen to ignore her.


Today I picked her up from her APARTMENT on campus, got her laundry, and dropped her at work before I  went home to pay bills.  (Which always cheers me up.)




An hour later she text messaged me,  “You know what would go great with my outfit today?”






“Yeah.” I replied, “A good attitude.”







Sha-BAM.  (Oh yeah, I’m back.  I’m back!)




2/25/12

Oh Sassy, I KNEW my little girl was in there somewhere...


Dear Sassy,


I want to thank you for the late night (screaming like a banshee) phone call you made to me last night.  For a minute there, I was beginning to wonder where my darling Sassy had GONE.

But then, when you threw a major hissy fit and called me a @)*&ing b!(@*@ and a !)!(!* and then said *&#$@&#^@, it reminded me of how it used to be.   Do you remember when we would call each other &#ing b#&#^*es before school each day?? And remember how you would call your brother a &@^ing (@&@(@@ before HE had to go to school?  

And remember when you and Bitchy would jump on each other, and pull each other's hair and called each OTHER @!(@*ing b@#(@???


Oh, and remember that Christmas Day when we you screamed at me and told me you hated me, and then I lost control and told you that I hated you, too?  REMEMBER?




Sigh.   Those were the days.  Thanks again for reminding me.....


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