To the other man in my life
He would often lay in my arms in the evening. Struggling to sleep because I had told him he needed to. His body would fight the efforts just as mine did when I was his age. Just as mine still does. I would rock him and hum or sing snippets of lullabies hoping that if he focused on that, his body would let go and allow the sandman to collect him.

One night as he lay in my arms, I didn't rock him, or sing. I was distracted, by the day, or the latest fight. He was fidgeting and fighting, needing sleep but too restless to settle in.

"Please go to sleep Buddy, Please! Mommy's tired."

And I was; Tired of being a wife, tired of being mommy, tired of working every day and then coming home to work some more.

"Sing hush baby, Mommy."

"What's that buddy?"

"Sing hush baby, please"

Then he grabbed my hand and snuggled it against his cheek, asking without words for me to stroke his face and forehead with my fingertips.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Mommy's gunna buy you a Mocking Bird...."

And so I sang, through the tears in my eyes and the tremor in my voice. Blessed that THIS I could fix. THIS I could do, even when the rest of my world was falling apart. I could sing to my baby and stroke his face, and feel his body relax in my arms and listen to his breathing deepen.

I wish our problems were as easily solved now. I still hesitate every time I reach for him, worried that he'll stiffen and pull away as he has in the past. But he's thirteen now. Even if we hadn't divorced he probably wouldn't say those words. And yet, I long for him to reach for my hand and whisper, "Sing Hush Baby, Mommy."

How can one person, mean so much?
His hands; they captivate me, not in the physical sense but in the visual. They are perfect. Strong square palms, with long aristocratic fingers. Just the right size, any larger and they would look ham handed, thinner and they would be effeminate, smaller and they would look like other hands, that I don't care to think about.

His hands; they bring passion with a caress, compassion with a touch, strength when I stumble and they keep me from falling. I can catch site of them performing the simplest tasks and instantly become entranced. The sureness of his movements enthrall. He'll catch sight of me watching and pause, smiling and cocking his head to one side before asking, "What?"

"You're hands are so sexy."

He'll laugh and go back to his task, untroubled by my attention, but pleased that so simple a thing delights me. Some may say it's wrong for me to be so fixated. After all, his hands will transform with the years. They will twist and knot. They'll collect spots and wrinkles, and eventually will shake and fail him. Yet, I'll love them all the same. Because it's not just the hands. There's a power, a heart behind them, and that will remain long after the strength is gone. And so, I shall always be chained, lovingly, willfully, by His Hands.

I love you all!
Look at all the questions and stories and... You all get a gold star today! *kiss*kiss*

Sychotic1 from Lemming Brigade CHARGE! asks
How about you share the stupidest thing that has ever popped out of your mouth. You know, the blah that just as soon as it is said, you want to scoop it back up and hide it somewhere.

Sychotic1 -Thank you for putting up a question, and for finally cluing me in to the fact that you're a chick! DUH!

The stupidest thing that ever popped out of my mouth? Well, I say stupid things all the time, but not the sort of thing you're talking about, I imagine. I have a propensity for swapping words or letters between words in a sentence and completely garbling things. But those sorts of things are usually understood and forgivable. There is one time I can clearly remember wanting to sink into the ground and disappear...

The ex and I were a young couple, up and coming in our church community. (Yes, I attend church - you all can stop snickering now!) We had met another young couple at church and had decided to go on a very Christian outing together, to putt-putt golf. All was going well when Richard spotted a black widow in the corner of one of the `greens'. Knowing spiders freak me out he started harassing it with his golf club and then flicking at it as if to throw it on me. I was going bananas trying to back away and yet was in such a panic I couldn't seem to lift my feet over the edge that surrounded the putt-putt green. Finally in frustration I shouted "God Damn it Richard, cut it out!"

He stopped and looked at me wide eyed. I stood there rooted to the spot for a moment before turning to look at our two `friends'. They were both standing there as slack jawed as if I had taken off all my clothes and stood naked before them. For the life of me I couldn't think of a single funny thing to say to break the tension. Instead I went.. "Uh, yeah, well... I really don't like spiders..."

Luckily, they were REAL Christians and over looked my little potty mouth slip. In fact the two of them were one of my rocks during my divorce.


Redneck Diva of The Ramblings of a Redneck Diva(who also told a story of her own) asks:
So... would you actually kiss your ex's toes???? Just curious!
If I said I would because I didn't answer one of your questions. Yeah, I would, just because I'm that honest. But would I just because... can I get a great big `HELL NO!?' I wouldn't even do that when we were married. They are just THAT gnarly.

Samantha of Little Sam Book asks:
Did you like school? Did you actually want to go, or were you like, 'GET ME OUTTA HERE!'

If so, when and if you went to college, what did you study?

Sorry, I can't think of anything good. ;)
I think that's an awesome question Sam, because I like talking about myself as much as, I like talking about myself! Heh.

School and I had this love/hate thing. By the end of summer I was usually so excited about school I would almost make myself sick. I would imagine all the friends I would have, and how organized I would be and all the excellent grades I would be getting. By the end of the first week, though, most of those delusions were gone.

I loved (and still do love) learning, but hated the repetitious style that most teachers adopted. I also hated homework, with a passion. I hated homework so much (usually math) that I often refused to do it. My justification? "I know this stuff already. Why should I have to do it 50 more times to prove that to you?" This came to a head in Geometry class where I had an 11% on my homework for the year, and a 98% on my tests. I flunked the class, but passed the mastery exam at the end of the year, so they had to let me graduate.

Socially, I was a misfit. I was one of those loners on the fringe of the cliques with no real `group' to fit into. At some of the schools I attended I was more then a misfit, I was a pariah and that made enjoying the whole school experience even harder. Remember the kid for whom `cootie spray' was invented? That was me. In high school it got a little better, and I found that the larger the school the easier it was to found a crowd to hang out with, but I never was going to win any popularity contests.

As for college: Well I got married at 18 and had my first baby at 19. The ex had promised my parents that we wouldn't have kids for five years, and guaranteed that I would go to school. Needless to say that didn't happen. It's one of my biggest regrets as an adult, and one I hope to save my own kids from, if I get any say in the matter.



GrumpyBunny from Grumpy Bunny asks:
Ok - so why 3 kids? I always think three is an odd number. Hubster is the youngest of three. He has an older brother and sister. So it wasn't a case of two girls and gee they HAD to have a boy...

Just curious.
I tell people all the time "We only wanted two kids, but now were left to figure out which two."

Honestly, the baby was an accident. (as was the first). We had our one boy, one girl and had fully intended that to be enough, but never bothered to take permanent action. When I found out I was pregnant I was so distressed I actually considered some pretty weird things (including adoption) but logic overcame emotion (or was it the other way around) and we decided to accept this gift that God had given us. Just to make SURE we got the point, fate played a little trick on us. Twenty weeks into my pregnancy I was told I may not make it to full term, and that there was a chance that the baby could be still born. Let me tell you, God and I had a nice long talk about that one. "Look," I told him, "I just accepted the fact that we're going to keep this baby, you can't take her now!"

Apparently, I made an impression because a short while later I gave birth to a one month pre-mature, but perfectly healthy baby girl. And what a blessing she became. You've never met a child with such a sunny outlook on life. You've heard that `if life gives you lemons make lemonade'? Well this child believes that if life gives you lemons then you run around and tell everyone how lucky you are, because YOU got a lemon, and wouldn't THEY like a lemon too and look there's a pretty flower over there, do you want a flower and oh look I see a dragon in the clouds...

Personally, I wouldn't recommend three children to anyone. It's a whole new ballgame when the children outnumber the adults. That said, I wouldn't trade my angel for the world. For her brother maybe, but not for the world!

Ta-Da
And now, for that moment you've all been waiting for!!

Hump Day Truth or Dare!

This is where you ask me a question and I have to answer it truthfully or perform some despicable act (like kissing my ex's toes)

Comment below (Or message me - you KNOW who you are) and I'll get back to you all - sometime.

It's the Philidephia experiment all over again.
Excuse me? Can you help me? Because I thought it was August. You know, still SUMER! But I seem to have gotten sucked into some sort of time warp, because today, while I was walking through Costco I saw... Christmas Decorations!

I mean, really! I'm a big fan of the holidays. I love them, but part of their appeal is that they happen, well, during the holiday season. If every day was Christmas then it becomes everyday. Doesn't it?

Now, I always pishaw-ed at those folks who grumped that the decorations came out in October. After all, I'm about ready to think in shades of green and red at that point. The air is getting chilly, leaves are turning, the hills are starting green, it's practically winter. (You have to realize that living in California, rain and the leaves turning is about the ONLY signs of winter we get) I'm all ready to drag out my down coat and moon boots!

But August!? Common folks! It's 97 bloody degrees outside! A green and red train with snow on the roof just doesn't quiet... fit. And holly wreaths covered in lights? Sorry, they clash with my bikini.

I never though _I_ would be saying this but Bah Fucking Humbug!

Another conversation snippet from my life
Me: Where do you want to go on vacation?
N: I don't know, what do you think?
Me: Well... I think I would like to go somewhere and STAY there, use it as a base.
N: OK
Me: It should be somewhere that we can do outdoor things, if we feel like it, or cultural things, or go out on the town, if we feel like it.
N: Honey?
Me: Yeah
N: That's where we live
Me: Oh, yeah...

The post where I don't tell you about THAT
I had a comment on an earilier post that I felt needed a longer answer. I also didn't want this to get lost in the comments so I'm answering here...


Hi parttimemom. I just wandered by and read your blog, assumed that, as a blogger, you want feedback, so I'm leaving some. My thought, as I read this page, was that the ONLY good thing about divorce, is that you don't have to have that same fight anymore. Your blog reads like you still have that same fight, every day, in your head.
How you live in your head drives how you live in your life, and the more you color your new life with the anger from your old life, the more you help recreate the unhappiness that you are trying to leave in your old life.
So, dumb as it sounds, there is that old saying about
"God grant me the courage to change what I can, the serenity to accept that which I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference".
Instead of being unspeakingly angry about the weekend schedules with your ex, draw up a schedule, run it by the lawyers and the court, and stick to it. It'll make you happier, and reduce your kids uncertainty about when they will be seeing you. They may be as quietly unhappy about the 'lost weekends' as you are.
I hope this is helpful to you.



Dear Reader,

I appreciate your feedback. Thank you for stopping by and please come back again. I promise not every post is about how much a pain my ex is.

I wish things were as simple as getting a court order and sticking to it. I have a court order, and in most situations that would be enough. But my ex likes to get his way, and when he doesn't he can get vicious and vindictive. Because of this, I have a tendency to tread lightly around him. Trying to bulldog my way through, insisting on my visitations and rights, nearly cost me my kids. I'm not about to risk that again. So, I quietly put up with his little games, grit my teeth and thank God every day that I got away from him and that my relationship with my kids wasn't permanently damaged by the crap that went on before.

Perhaps one day I'll write about how much it hurt to read a Mother's Day card signed "Happy Mother's Day even if you are only a part time mom" or the pain that comes when the son that HAD to end every night with a snuggle in your lap tells you that he wants to divorce you like the kid on TV did, or when your baby looks at you and says "You left us, and if you loved us you would come home so we could be a family again".

I'll talk about parental Alienation syndrome. How the courts nor a counselor can protect your children from it. I'll detail the time my daughter sat, sobbing and asked her dad, "Will you hate me if I go? (to mom's)".

Then I'll explain how you'll do anything, even put up with crap from your ex to get a card that says "You are my mother, but you are also my friend", or have your son lean in and give you a hug, with BOTH arms for the first time in two years, or have your baby say "When I come home, you know at your house, can we make rock candy?"

Yeah, maybe one day I'll tell you about that...

Because you NEED to know more about me, Me ME!
From Genuine


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Bah!
Don't you just love coming into work, and listening to your coworkers talk about the various parties they attended at each other's houses that you WERN'T even INVITED to!?

Yeah, me too

Conversations with my Knight
N: So Richards getting married September 18th!?
Me: Yeah, can you believe it?
N: So, do you want to run down to the courthouse and get married so we can be first?
Me: NO!!!
N: Good! You know, I'm so glad you arn't that kind of person
Me: Me too