In a little more than 24 hours I will be leaving my son on the curb at the airport for the flight to his first duty station with the United States Navy.
He's been home for 10 magic days. As I write I'm dusting off a memory of him squatting in the flower bed, red plastic shovel in hand slinging mud all over the sidewalk wearing a beloved pair of yellow rain boots - in the SUMMER time. Now he towers in my front doorway wearing a meticulous uniform complete with boots so shiny you can see your reflection. The days from yellow rain boots to spit shined military ones are a time warp of birthday parties, clean your rooms and do your homework's. Of taxi driving, piles of laundry peppered with sleepovers and who's that girl?? Where are you going? Get up, brush your teeth. WHERE'S your homework??? All the while trying my hardest to weed out the bad things he may have inherited from his parents and magnifying the good ones.
I've kissed his forehead and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders every night he's been home - whether he realizes it or not. I've wished selfishly that he had fewer friends to visit while being proud that he understands how to be a true friend. Wishing wit every alarm clock screech that I didn't have to work so many hours. I just want to sit next to him and hear him breathe. He's pulled off an epic surprise on his family, a visit to his brothers baseball game - twice. Celebrated his birthday early, ran a few errands for his momma like the old days and now its nearly time for him to go again.
Raising him has been like trying to stuff a 5 pound burlap sack full of 50 pounds worth of information and love. I stare at him in wonder today just like I did the day the nurse laid him on my chest fresh out of the oven. I made that!! I'm way cooler than any Pinterest board. These days he's writing a story that doesn't have me as the center. And that's as it should be.
This man who stands where my little boy once crouched gleefully discovering worms buried in the mud is intelligent, and a leader. Organized. Purposeful. He has impeccable taste in music and can quote movies with the best of them. He keeps his faith close to his heart and really gets it when is Great Uncle Joe talks about "Duty, honor and respect for family". He honored his Great Uncle Tim with his very first tattoo. I raised him to be his own person but never forget where he came from and as a result he is loyal to everyone who loves him even if I don't think they deserve it. Take that mom!!
He still manages to get a middle finger up in almost every picture and his grin is just as wide and bright as the sun. He hassles his siblings and cracks my back and opens any jar with his big ole meat hooks but for every one thing I am certain I know about him there are probably three I am totally unaware of and I think that is the plan.
In a little more than 24 hour I will give my precious number one son a hug and send him back to the United Sates Navy and I couldn't be more proud. Fair winds and following seas Sailor - your mom loves you.
Friday, March 10, 2017
Monday, March 6, 2017
Spiderweb - events in 2013
Adultery is like a spider web. It starts out small in the center and then continues on each corner connected to another growing and spinning until it's huge and you can't see where it began anymore. This has been my experience as the survivor of someone else's rampant adultery. There's no part of my life it hasn't touched. I still live in the same town where most of the affairs occurred I still see the women who participated. Most of the time I process this just fine. Yeah...not today. Maybe it's because so many of the spiders were women in my circle of friends and acquaintances. That's what makes it harder to swallow or maybe because some of them are not only not apologetic for what they did they're straight up proud of it. Maybe it's because knowledge of one affair in particular reached one of my kiddos despite my best efforts to avoid that. Whatever the reasons, today I used my most powerful weapons and attacked the core of the twisted spider web. I railed him. I swore at him and I lost all my composure. Despite my efforts to block all unsavory faces from my Facebook.. I missed a few and they reared their ugly white trash heads. Right there in the middle of my newsfeed. THEM. The evil Wondertwins. The slutty version of Dumb and Dumber. Standing together arm in arm in a picture as if they were there just to piss me off. I wish I could say my only reaction was to be smugly pleased to see the beer gut the one had, or that the others thinning hair made me smile. Today.. I saw them and a flood of pain came back to me and then I texted him a screenshot of the two of his conquests. Not a proud moment for me. It's bad enough that these things happened, that the memory of them exists but to remind someone of one their least fine moments was certainly not one of mine.
I DO have the right to be angry. That sentence took a long time and a lot of therapy to be able to say. I have the RIGHT to be angry and dammit I am. I don't have the right to put that anger on anyone else. I've taken and will continue to take a lot of stuff on the chin as a result of my 16 year marriage. That was an agreement I made the day I laced up my hot pink Doc Martens and stood in front of all the important people in my life and took my vows. BUT when this mess lands on my kids I get angry. When I'm angry I don't make the best decisions and today I chose to throw the mess right at him. The kids are the innocent ones and their lives have changed enough as a result of our divorce without one of them having to be embarrassed at school and have to play it off like it didn't bother them in front of their classmates. Instead my kiddo fell back on humor to hide the pain, just like I do. What could be a funny response to " My mom had an affair with that kids Dad" you ask?? My brilliant kiddo came right back with "Yeah, my dad's kind of a man whore, who cares". Everyone laughed but the damage was done. That child cared and I care. So my better angels left my side and the little devil that I try hard to stomp down took over and I unleashed the fury. Ya know what? It didn't even have the desired affect. At least not that I could see. What I wanted was an apology for my child and for me. What I got was a bitter argument that lasted for several hours and was less about what had happened to our child and more about how its all my fault because I can 't let it go. Maybe he's right, maybe I can't let it go because I'm such a Mama Bear. Maybe its just BS but why should I have to ? I still have to deal with the fall out and clean up the mess he made, I should be able to throw a fit and dump some of it back on him now and then.
I DO have the right to be angry. That sentence took a long time and a lot of therapy to be able to say. I have the RIGHT to be angry and dammit I am. I don't have the right to put that anger on anyone else. I've taken and will continue to take a lot of stuff on the chin as a result of my 16 year marriage. That was an agreement I made the day I laced up my hot pink Doc Martens and stood in front of all the important people in my life and took my vows. BUT when this mess lands on my kids I get angry. When I'm angry I don't make the best decisions and today I chose to throw the mess right at him. The kids are the innocent ones and their lives have changed enough as a result of our divorce without one of them having to be embarrassed at school and have to play it off like it didn't bother them in front of their classmates. Instead my kiddo fell back on humor to hide the pain, just like I do. What could be a funny response to " My mom had an affair with that kids Dad" you ask?? My brilliant kiddo came right back with "Yeah, my dad's kind of a man whore, who cares". Everyone laughed but the damage was done. That child cared and I care. So my better angels left my side and the little devil that I try hard to stomp down took over and I unleashed the fury. Ya know what? It didn't even have the desired affect. At least not that I could see. What I wanted was an apology for my child and for me. What I got was a bitter argument that lasted for several hours and was less about what had happened to our child and more about how its all my fault because I can 't let it go. Maybe he's right, maybe I can't let it go because I'm such a Mama Bear. Maybe its just BS but why should I have to ? I still have to deal with the fall out and clean up the mess he made, I should be able to throw a fit and dump some of it back on him now and then.
the Dating Game - part one
I suck at playing games... Not checkers or Monopoly - I'm pretty good at those and I will totally hand your ass to you in any trivia game. The games I suck at are the dating games. You know the playing hard to get and acting like you don't care when you do? Or pretending to be unavailable when all you really want is to spend time with your new favorite person. Don't text him first or too soon after he text's you. Or my personal fave - don't tell anyone you're dating for some mysterious length of time and if you ask for status first then you lose.
Who decided that these were good games to play?? Who makes the rules for these games?? Where is the damn play book?? Its 2017 and we aren't past this? We found proof of life on MARS for Pete's sake but if you like someone you still have to act like you don't? You can have a parade about embracing your sexuality but don't do it with a man you're dating or he'll think you're easy. What in the Hell is that?
Before you ask yourself if I'm oblivious I can assure you I'm not. I am fully aware of the cavalcade of books devoted to the subject and even though I am a complete bibliophile, and even though I have actually read a few, I think all those books should be burned. Seriously. Just make a giant bonfire and all the single, fed the F-up women can dance around it with glee. Yes, I also realize there is an entire industry built around perpetuating these games. Books, movies, lecture circuits, Pinterest pages you name it - it exists. But that doesn't mean it's doing us ladies any favors.
Humor me though wouldya? Next time you're at the market take a look at the magazine covers at the check out stand. Most of them consist of articles evenly split between the top 6 sexual positions you've never heard of, how to lose 20 pounds and how to get a man or some variation on those 3 topics. Sure, they throw some empowering interview skills article in next to a moving, emotional cancer survivor story but the thing that keeps us reading those rags in the bath or on the beach is the exact articles I'm bitching about and therein lies the rub. I might complain but I'm also honest. I want the answers too and dammit if they're to be found between the pages of Cosmo I'll take it. I sure as hell haven't figured it out on my own.
To be continued.....
Who decided that these were good games to play?? Who makes the rules for these games?? Where is the damn play book?? Its 2017 and we aren't past this? We found proof of life on MARS for Pete's sake but if you like someone you still have to act like you don't? You can have a parade about embracing your sexuality but don't do it with a man you're dating or he'll think you're easy. What in the Hell is that?
Before you ask yourself if I'm oblivious I can assure you I'm not. I am fully aware of the cavalcade of books devoted to the subject and even though I am a complete bibliophile, and even though I have actually read a few, I think all those books should be burned. Seriously. Just make a giant bonfire and all the single, fed the F-up women can dance around it with glee. Yes, I also realize there is an entire industry built around perpetuating these games. Books, movies, lecture circuits, Pinterest pages you name it - it exists. But that doesn't mean it's doing us ladies any favors.
Humor me though wouldya? Next time you're at the market take a look at the magazine covers at the check out stand. Most of them consist of articles evenly split between the top 6 sexual positions you've never heard of, how to lose 20 pounds and how to get a man or some variation on those 3 topics. Sure, they throw some empowering interview skills article in next to a moving, emotional cancer survivor story but the thing that keeps us reading those rags in the bath or on the beach is the exact articles I'm bitching about and therein lies the rub. I might complain but I'm also honest. I want the answers too and dammit if they're to be found between the pages of Cosmo I'll take it. I sure as hell haven't figured it out on my own.
To be continued.....
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