Monthly Archives: June 2012

Jun26

My Worth – in Black and White

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My Worth – in Black and White

No matter how prepared you think you are for the moment you first see the paperwork attached to the end of your marriage, it’s shocking. Martian and I have put off the deed for two years, but it’s time, and the ball is rolling, and by the end of 2012, I’ll be officially divorced.

That doesn’t change how hard it is to read what a decade is worth in the real world.

The settlement is fair. There are some things I could fight, but, for the most part, I want to be fair. Martian wasn’t necessarily fair during the marriage, and there is that little part of me that wants to stab those papers with an ice pick and finally get out all of the anger and pain I have felt over that relationship. But, I won’t. I’m much too classy for that. In theory.

I’m reeling from the shock, still. I’m scared. I’m tired. I’m excited. I’m happy. I’m numb. I’m shaking my head. I didn’t sleep last night.

The ironic part? The current debate over moving in with Superman has been settled, in my mind, and probably his. By giving me 1/6th of the legal time owed for co-habitation vs. alimony, the reality of how shaky that relationship still is has been blinding. Superman said, “That’s a lot of pressure, I don’t want to be the cause of you losing money you need.”

Something like that. It translates into “we can’t just jump, because if we fail, you’re screwed, Melia.”

Which is true. And if we both feel that way, we’re obviously not ready to make that commitment. I’m hovering somewhere between sad, angry and really fucking relieved.

But, anyway, back to the papers. I’m sitting on them (no, not literally) and trying to calm down the panic that will ultimately make me sound like a total bitch when I respond. The anger at devoting my life to raising a family for over a decade, leaving me no time to build my own career is pretty bad. I’m doing fine with my business, don’t get me wrong, and at the end of all of this, the divorce will do nothing but push me to succeed even harder.

For now, however, it kind of feels like there is a clearance tag on my vagina.

In other news, maybe now I really can figure out a way to move my Grandmother to Virginia… with me… and the kids… in the same house… forever, and ever.

 

Jun22

Decisions are Delicious, Kinda

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Decisions are Delicious, Kinda

There's booze in my blender, yo

I cut off my cable last night, and in return, I have super fast Internet. This is after converting my home phone to a wireless number that now works on all my handsets in the house. I’m pretty stoked for two reasons – lower bills AND I did the research and made those decisions myself. There are parts about being single-esque that I relish.

I hate when being partnered with someone causes a loss of independence. I had little independence for over a decade – and I can see now how that drove me a little nuts. Admittedly, I am a control freak. I make no claim otherwise. But, the last few months without another adult living in the house with me, I’ve regained that sense of actually being in control of my own life. Nobody else is mooching off of me, or looking over my shoulder at everything I’m doing. At least, for the most part. It feels good.

Too good.

Superman and I have been negotiating, for months, actually, the prospect of moving in together… maybe the “M” word has been thrown around, too. At first, my response was no, or I blew it all off, not wanting to lose myself in that role of a wife again.

Of course, then I did exactly that.

Some habits are harder to break than others, I guess. Not that I’m really complaining, since he’s pretty great and I adore his kids, even when they make me nuts. Well, ok, not when they make me nuts. I’m not crazy about my own kids when they make me nuts, so it works out. But, there’s that voice in the back of my head, whispering like an oncoming train…

YOU JUST WORKED SO HARD TO BE INDEPENDENT, WTF ARE YOU DOING?

Yeah, I don’t really know. This big, Italian, brooding “bad boy” double Scorpio is the last person I ever thought I’d fall in love with.

Actually, now that I read that, I kind of grudgingly get it. Dammit. Love makes you (well, me) stupid. Stupid enough to consider blending 7 kids, 3 dogs, a cat and 2 pretty fucked up adults together. No official date has been set, but we’ve agreed to move in together at some point in the future. That point was actually going to be September, but that’s been put off.

I’m kinda okay with that. I don’t need no man in my life, 24/7, to stink up the place and be in “that role.” I’m an independent woman, I pay my bills, I manage 4 kids 95% of the time, I shower almost daily. I’m perfectly fine, and it’s kind of great knowing that after everything over the past few years, and all those fears about me falling on my face, I really do have things under control.

But… he makes me laugh, and I want to kill him a lot. He melts my heart, and reads to The Twitches at bedtime, but won’t eat spinach, even if I covered my naked body with it. He doesn’t like sushi, but makes up songs and brings me roses from his front yard. He’s taken The Artist Formerly Known as Emo Boy (heh) under his wing, and they love torturing me together, even if psychically. Enigma was the first to say we should all move in together.

7 kids. 3 dogs. A cat. 2 pretty fucked up adults. Pass the Snapple, please.

 

 

Jun17

Who’s Yo’ Daddy?

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Who’s Yo’ Daddy?

Miss me? I may have changed my mind about blogging elsewhere. I miss it here. Blog masturbation. Mmmmm.

I have about 3.8 minutes before I crawl over to my bed and pass out. Week 1 of Summer Break has ended with a Father’s Day bang (haha, not the good kind!) and I am beat. Only 9 more weeks of summer to go!

I don’t even know when the last time I actually blogged was. My life got a whole lot more intense in the last 6 months and things weren’t flowing. I met that boy, fell in love, and we are happily moving toward living together, or not, depending on the day of the week or the scent of the wafting breeze. Work-wise, things have really taken off, and I am busier than ever, but, it’s the kind of busy where I can actually hang it up at night, when I want to. For the most part. The kids? EmoBoy (new name pending) is about to start high school. Enigma is about to start middle school (same school, same grade as Superman’s #1 Son, to be blog-named soon) and The Twitches are heading into 2nd grade.

In 9 weeks, of course.

I am, again, working from home all summer. Sometimes with my 4, sometimes with just 3, and sometimes with 6-7 kids. I have coincidentally discovered Snappletinis and aside from the caloric adversity that has caused me to rethink my stance on exercising, I am in love with a new drink. I have a big road trip coming up in a month, and just about that much time to make sense of my whole world before seeing my Grandmother.

I just made up that deadline, just so she sounds like a mob boss. The Grandmother.

Oh, and, somehow, I’m helping to throw her a 90th Birthday Bash.

Ummm, I’ll be back. I promise. Have a great Father’s Day, or what is remaining. I’m going to be drinking in the corner, picking at a chigger bite and steeling myself against 63 more days of fun and adventure.