Divorce, Humanity

the middle.

the kids are flying off to Florida tomorrow for a long weekend and a swim with some manatees.

the ex is dating, has broken up with the woman he was with immediately after leaving (foggy dates there, intentional) and it’s coming back around on me.

I don’t care. I do care. ego is involved. things are not equal. they won’t be. my kids are very lucky.

and I’m going to miss the kids a lot. its only one night more than regular that they’ll be gone from me, but the fact that they’ll be having all these first-time experiences without me is a little bit peaky. and airplanes.

and i’m having stress dreams about disrespect and the way i felt when i was married and the futile feeling that i had about my life all the time.

and i’m calling my friends and they are holding my hands, and my LM is being lovelier.

and man, there is this gift in all this… that i’m not there anymore, that he isn’t in my life anymore, that i can yell and be mad and not be constantly gaslit about my own worth and sanity.

that i forget. and remember. and yell in the empty kitchen, to myself,  ‘he is not in my life ANYMORE’. and the yelling feels right, and loosens my shoulders.

here i am.

sometimes i am mad. catch me at 9:30 at night when not one.single.kid. is making any progress towards sleep and i am a fucking harpy of doom.  totally.

and i don’t have to hear anymore about what an ‘angry person’ i am.  because i am so much more than a person who gets angry sometimes. and really, i always was.

i’m not there anymore. and the fairytale fell apart and the crying in the wedding dress is done. (i’m sure i’ll have some more moments, but.)

and i’ve got amazing kids with me all the time, and i’m allright man.  right here in the middle of all this, i’m still allright.

Breakfast Table Mess UnwifedMotherExpletive

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Humanity

Subscribe.

my middle is trying to ‘get into’ youtube.  He is making videos and thinking a lot about subscribers and how many more he needs to make any money. I think we are talking many tens of thousands more subscribers more, at this point.

His latest video was a dance battle with a potato.

I kid you not.

There is simply nothing better than this life.

And thats all I have to say about that.

Middle Playing Foosball Unwifedmotherexpletive

Divorce, Humanity

where its at. what i got.

  1. I survived the November/December overwhelm but something needs to be different when it rolls around next year.  There is grief for my father, yes, which can’t be undone. but it is complicated by the loss of the marriage (Yes! Still! I can’t believe it either!)  and all the dreams I thought were mine for so long…  the holidays are a minefield of negotiations, two kid birthdays and thanksgiving, christmas eve, christmas day, new years eve, new years day and all of the days in between… and full days of childcare/love in amongst it all.  negotiations between what is and what I thought life was, negotiations between their father and me, so many of them. Negotiations for myself and my expectations of real life and real love and the real-ity that I am in with the Loveliest man. (he’s still a lovey)  I’m fully exhausted.
  2. https://youtu.be/0Uc3ZrmhDN4 
  3. There is the world, which is frankly, and still, just TOO MUCH.
  4. I have made my own laundry detergent. LM did the grating of the soap and it still smells lovely. Fels Naptha, Washing Soda (think baking soda) and Borax.  I think that is it.  Pretty sure. no link for now because everything i just looked up was corporate or link-laden. i hate that.
  5. I have more plants than fully makes sense.
  6. I’m going to forbid my kids any plastic bottles, starting tonight, which, believe it or not, might cause an actual walk-out. it used to be a thing to get drinks after sports. cold ones. now there’s a whole lot of ‘suckit up, kids, we’re almost home’. I’m going to save a lot of money as well. so, bonus.
  7. and, lastly. i hate gingerbread houses with a passion straight from the divine. molten lava hatred.  this one was delivered to a little girl by the LM, who did not know.  It was all pre-formed, all of it. all i had to do was frosting it together. has my hatred dissipated, you ask? no. no it has not.

What’s your list like? Tell me.

Gingerbread House Unwifedmotherexpletive

Humanity

Soup is on.

Today i did a writing prompt about the things I tend, what i turn towards, how I tend. I’m sharing it here, because I like the change of pace, and the soup is really smelling up the place now, as well as the bacon that I had to add… ah, bacon. you make my heart sing.

I have added to and edited here, though this news will break the hearts of those who forgive me my ways. (capitalization is just not a thing, for instance.)

  1. Today was the day of the oil change. The making-sure the car makes it through the winter, though i suppose there is no guarantee against calamity, or trees. 
  2. I’m in love with the word TEND. I took a class called that, just for its name… only to run out of money in the end… but i lose a bit of my bonechill every time i see her writings. Women are pretty fucking great. of course it is a woman. Tend? c’mon. 
  3. I’m making a soup today as well, which is not a completely normal happening, but it will be potato when it is done with its time in the crock. I’ve been working at a farm stand and am thrilled to say that my reason, ‘to be closer to food, to cook more real food’, has come to pass. (also, people. and payment) These potatoes are almost fully personified in my mind. They are giving me their pleasure, and sustenance and i am chopping them to chunks and bits. (look away.) I also peeled their skin off. 
  4. The things i turn toward are colored amorphous blobs. Memories, smells… sounds or tactilities, these are the scenes i go towards. I’m so fully centered in my body, but there is all this space around the molten core of me, and i seem to want to fill it with yarn and sweaters knit by people who can, food smells, tacos… you see. It is escaping my typing fingers, what it is i tend towards, how it is i move into and out of the world outside my quiet body. I don’t even know how i have sex, out there, but i do… every once in a while i get a glimpse of a spark shooting off into the darkness, my fling towards connection. 
  5. i feel so insular, my molten core bringing all the self-sufficiency. (hello, they say no man is an island. but what of woman? )
  6. I tend to warmth, there are hats, there are blankets and there are never NOT those things. We have wood for the stove, we have pasta for the storms. It is always tended to. Always. 
  7. I’m not able to, or rather, it taxes me too dearly to slow down my writing brain. It must flow as it does. I tend to fly. 
  8. More colors to tend to in this dying light of Fall. the book i haven’t read, that i probably need to read, maybe. It is green-ly bound, and yellow at the heart. I think my chakras are interested by this.Books Yellow and Green UNwifedmotherexpletive
  9. I tend to personify. 
  10. I tend to leave space, for all the meaning and the worth that come from another. The shared experience that really isn’t. And is, too. 
  11. A season of tending outdoors has ended, and the wrapping up of it into storage, decay, decomposition, is a slow decay in an of itself. I start off strong. Always curious to see what is left to survive the elements, or not. That one hulahoop left by the shed. You see.

 

Humanity

mean old bastard

there’s a piece of me that is a hard, flinty old man. the man who cuts up the tennis balls that land in his yard, to show those young’uns what ‘respect’ means.

you wouldn’t know it to look at me, but it is there, and it is strong. it is most assuredly NOT the strongest of the bunch, but he does show his head often enough that I know him. He’s really quite reactive.

If I’m cold, he comes out ranting about how I can’t start a fire because it is too early in the season and I’ll run out of wood when I need it most. And I can’t turn on the heat because I’ll run out of money when I need it most.

If I’m lonely, he runs out into the yard to wave his stick at all my faults, including my introversion, which is a bit of a mind-bender.  “If you weren’t so damn picky, you’d have more friends. If you go out with those people, they will really learn about how weird you are.”

curmudgeon. filled with fear and lack… not-enoughness.

UnwifedMotherExpletive on the Beach

I think most people know it, certainly have seen it in others.  its a whole way of explaining American culture right now. I hate you because you might take what I have, someday, somehow, because I really don’t have enough, and I’m scared.

And how do I address that mean old bastard? The more I respect the pieces of me that have developed, the more I realize I can let him rant, and fling his fear around. I can. no big.

as long as I don’t do more than that. I can let him, I don’t need to burn down his house.  I may not want to have him over for dinner but I don’t need to ‘become him’.  I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t work. So, i’m just going to go to the beach and pick up pretty rocks and use a hanky to save the world.

and he can rant, and I can let him. and when he is done, I might bake him some apple crisp.

but guess what? he’s lost his teef.

more for me.

-uwmofo