For all of my potential beaus out there, I think it’s only fair that I warn you: I told my daughter she could get a puppy when I get married.
It wasn’t a promise, really, more like a “when pigs fly” sort of statement…at least at the time.
Yet, somehow, the possibility seems not so far-fetched any longer…
I’m happier now than I was while in a doomed relationship.
Yet I often ponder this question of my standard of living. Is it better? No, though I suppose I thought it would be. I thought there would be some savings associated with not having to support another adult — perhaps some groceries, gas, insurance or utilities. And I thought I’d be getting a bit more in the way of support for our children.
My resources are tight. My time is full, from the time I wake until I crash each night. I entertain less often. I enjoy cooking less now that it’s a scramble to put dinner on the table each evening. I find less time to be active and exercise, and to connect with friends and family. All things that are important to me.
And, yet, with two precious children sharing discoveries each day and a deep sense of purpose, I find this moment in my life rich and full and hopeful.
Those other things that matter? Well…they’ll be resurrected in time.
I seem to be on a roll lately, so why not keep the personal revelations coming…
I didn’t like having a nanny. I thought I would LOVE having a nanny…but I didn’t even like it. I like dropping off my children and picking them up and, even if it can get stressful trying to make sure we’re running out the door on time with everything they need for their day (and, laughingly, it’s enough of a challenge ensuring I leave the house with everything I need) and then picking them up on time, I still arrive home each evening to a house looking just the way I left it.
I started this post one day when I’d arrived home to see that the kitchen floor looked a little glossy. And then, as I walked across it, it felt a little sticky. When I asked the children if someone had spilled something, the nanny fessed up that she had. She did clean it up, but not very well. I spent part of my evening mopping the floor, which is pretty much the last thing I wanted to do with my evening.
Further, on top of what I pay her, I need to leave money for a treat or an outing or something so they don’t have to be bored with each other and sitting around the house. So, while money’s tight, I’m shelling out another $20 a day so my children can enjoy a day at the pool or go for ice cream.
When I was younger, it was part of the babysitter role to clean up, wash the dishes, etc. And you were expected to entertain or make do with the resources available (which pretty much meant anything free within walking distance). Apparently that’s no so anymore…
But the children had a happy summer and felt loved. Who am I to argue with that?!
As you can tell from several of my posts, I am still far from having male-female relationships figured out. In fact, I seem to still make a lot of dumb mistakes. I’ve confessed before that I’m a late bloomer, that my brain-to-mouth filter is under-functioning at best, and that I’ve never really had any good relationship examples. But then, who among us have? Healthy, loving relationships among our parents’ generation seem pretty rare…in fact, I can think of just a few couples in my parents’ group who have found genuine long-term happiness together.
Thankfully, in talking with friends, I’m not alone in not having all the answers. I have friends nearly two decades into marriage who haven’t figured it out. In fact, I was surprised to learn that one married couple I know are both reading relationship self-help books. (His is entitled How to Save Your Marriage in 5 Minutes a Day or similar…So of course I asked the obvious: Does that five minutes include the sex? He said that yes, it was supposed to, but he didn’t elaborate. Not sure I’ll be buying that book any time soon.)
Who are these people who find life-long happiness? Who are these lovely older couples who still walk side-by-side on the beach and hold hands and talk after decades of marriage? And how do I get to be among their ranks?
Well…I’m going to have to figure that one out as I go along.
I was a solid step parent. I loved my wasband’s children, who were into their late teens and early adulthood during our relationship. Both of their parents were conflict and difficult topic averse, so I had many of the “difficult conversations” with them — we talked about sex, drugs, relationships and more. But where I really excelled in this role was not getting sucked into the shit and actually seeing and pointing out the dysfunction in my ex’s family.
Here’s what would happen: someone from the outside, maybe a distant cousin, would attack my then partner. His children would then launch into two behaviors:
Let me comment on these: No child is ever responsible for protecting or defending either of their parents. I don’t care whether my stepchildren were already late teens or in early adulthood. The only time this behavior may be necessary is when the parents are compromised or infirm, through age, disease or mental disorders. But children often carve out roles in the family based on birth order, socialization or other circumstances, and end up contributing to the dysfunction rather than mitigating it. And then they carry these dysfunctional responses with them into adulthood, as many of us have.
The truly important thing here, and one that many of us overlook, is the way we respond to attacks or bad behavior:
Think of the word “responsible” — it’s true meaning is “ability to respond.” So what are we responding to? The words or the behavior? Sometimes the ability to respond means knowing which of these to respond to. Often, rather than jumping in to a frenzy of verbal warfare (responding to the words), it’s best to simply say, “That was mean. I don’t appreciate you attacking my family. It’s none of your business” or “Ouch; that hurt!” (responding to the behavior).
Years after my own parents’ divorce, my father used to call me and, during every conversation, he would bring up my mother with some snide or sarcastic remark like, “Your mother called to tell you she loves you.” However true it may have been that my mother was, at this time, reserved and relatively inattentive, I eventually had to ask my father to stop bringing her up in conversation and that I would have my own relationship with my mother, thank you very much.
My mother, for her part, called and visited frequently while going through her own divorce. Again, I listened and empathized…but, after I’d heard her repeating the same feelings and questions (e.g. “why?”) several times, I reflected back to her that she was allowing her mind to dwell in these thoughts — much like a broken record skips back and plays the same part of a song over and over (for those of you who remember turntables and vinyl, anyway). I suggested she talk to a therapist and, while I didn’t hear from her again for a few weeks immediately following my pointed recommendation, our relationship is now more open than ever.
So today I ask you to think about the relationships in your life and what type of responsibility you have in them. How able are you to respond? Are you responding to words or behaviors? How well do you navigate which to use when?
I’d love to hear your thoughts or stories.
I spent time with a girlfriend over the weekend with whom I have a few things in common. We’re both divorced; our relationships fell apart right around the same time in our lives (roughly 40, and with children at about the same ages) — the difference is that she’s a decade older, and so her divorce has been final for far longer.
And here’s what I noticed about our interactions:
As I wrote in my last post, I am getting better about these things. I am stepping back into full accountability for everything in my life — my happiness, my home, my car, my career, my parenting and all my decisions. And I am beginning to feel fulfilled again regardless of whether there’s a man in my life — I can live happily without.
I am also committed to being myself, flying my freak flag and letting the men (and women) who are intimidated or turned off by that to opt out of my life. It’s okay; they’re doing me a favor. I am (to take a phrase from John Randolph Price’s The Abundance Book) my source and my substance.
Happy Independence Day! It’s an incredibly beautiful day here, and I’ve spent the first part of my day enjoying the sunshine and cool breeze, chatting with neighbors, puttering about doing some household projects, and reflecting on all I have to be grateful for this long, holiday weekend to myself.
This weekend, my daughter has gone with a friend to their family cabin. This is her first long weekend away with anyone other than family…and it kind of scares me.
While the girls have been discussing this potential for some time, I had cautioned my daughter that I hadn’t yet connected with her friend’s parents. First, I would have anticipated a call from them inviting my daughter to go along with them. And then I would have anticipated detailed information:
Earlier, I wrote: “The brilliant thing about failure is that, with time, it brings about great clarity. It is because of the experiences I’ve had — my failed relationship, my attainment of a mediocre position in my career — that I now know more clearly than ever what is truly and deeply important to me. I have a fairly well-developed grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses, and have discovered what makes me feel whole, fulfilled and alive. I am grateful for these lessons learned.”
I am grateful for the lessons learned, but I find myself laughing at this sense of clarity I seemed to have for a moment in time. Refining one’s sense of self, sense of other and desires all seem to be ongoing processes. Perhaps at that time I had a great vision for what I didn’t want, and maybe that felt like clarity to me then. It’s the knowing with certainty which direction to go, which next steps to take — in relationships and career — that is the challenge.
Long ago, maybe even before my ex moved out, I began a list of qualities that I’d like to find in a mate. In truth, I probably began developing my list in a somewhat reactionary manner, including the many of the desirable qualities my ex lacked. Or any qualities in direct opposition to those he possessed. Whatever.
As time went on and I began to see the beauty in the world again, I saw more wonderful qualities to add to this list…
And then I worked on myself and spent some time acknowledging what I know about me and what I need and what I know I want, and I added more to the list…
By now, I have a pretty clear picture. Yet, I continue to meet, interact and spend time with men to keep refining and adding clarity. And, though I have silly notions about what kind of car he might drive or what clothes he might wear or how tall he might be, I do genuinely recognize how little importance those things carry. The substantive stuff has to do with the way he thinks and carries himself through this grand life journey.
In other words, I’m listening very closely to the language he uses and how he expresses himself, observing his manners and witnessing my own feelings when I’m in his presence. Most of my list is about truly noble qualities, rather than external factors such as looks or cars or career or income.
My dating experiences continue to inform this list, especially as I consider the type of man who might integrate into my little family. And I think this is particularly true of men with children. For example, I went out with one cute, quirky, computer geek who has twin boys who are younger than my children, one with ADHD and the other on the autism spectrum. I could see loving a man like this. I could even see welcoming challenging children into my heart. But I would likely view trying to integrate such a bunch into my mellow family as too disruptive to my own children. So add that to the list…
My last post was about resonance and dissonance — the things that we can vibe with or not. The thing is, I have a pretty broad, open mind. And I often allow myself to be talked into things. But I know what I like, what resonates. And if you try to persuade me to go out with someone who’s not a match, I’ll probably be convinced to give him a chance. It’s just that in the end, I usually find out that I was right to begin with.
Let me begin by describing my children: they are healthy — free of allergies, asthma and chronic conditions. (Knock on wood…we should all be so blessed.) They are energetic and love to run and play. Each has a mellow and sweet disposition and both are well-liked. Also, they are beautiful. Sure, I have parenting challenges like anyone else, but I am blessed beyond measure to have these bright, loving and cooperative children to nurture.
I try to be a halfway decent mother (despite, at one time, having had the inclination to write a series of parenting manuals called “The Bad Parents’ Guide to…” Shoulda.). Therefore, it was pretty important to me to try to take the high road (as much as I could) during the dismantling of my marriage.
Part of this, in my mind, meant limiting my children’s exposure to my interpersonal relationships with other men. I didn’t want them to see me going from one relationship right into another. However, from the moment my ex moved out, this proved a difficult task: Male friends seemed to come out of the woodwork in my first days, weeks and months of becoming single, stopping by to see if I needed something done around the house. One fixed the radiator on my car and another thanked me for a project I’d voluntarily done for him (well over a decade ago) with an envelope of cash. Others took us on outings to amusement parks or to the movies.
Children are keen to pick up energy, and mine sensed no hanky-panky as these were strictly platonic relationships. No harm was done — and, unfortunately, this volunteerism quickly tapered off.
As I’ve begun to date, however, I must be more vigilant about what I say and do around my children. They are my nearly constant companions and, at times, my confidantes. I try to maintain appropriate parent/adult-child boundaries yet, I have to confess, this can be difficult. My children are exposed to some prime time television, so they are not oblivious to the notion of crushes or liking others of the opposite sex or adults wanting to kiss. So they have witnessed a small handful of my (telephone) interactions with Chi-guy, for example. They were in the car when I called to wish him a happy birthday, and also when I asked him to take me on a date. They probably catch glimpses of my online dating site, but I doubt they understand what it is.
I feel blessed to be able to have open conversations with my children about having a boy for a friend but also having a crush on him. We speak in terms they can understand, and they have an opportunity to voice the requisite, “I wish you still liked Daddy.” Me too. That would have been much easier on all of us.
So what do my children know of my dating life? They know I have a friend in Chicago who I have a crush on. They know I want to meet men and find a life partner. They know I want to be married and live as a family together with a man other than their father, and that might mean with other children, too. And they ask questions about these things: “What will he be like?” He’ll be kind and loving. “Do you think Daddy might have a friend you’d like?” Um, I don’t think that would be a very good idea. “Will he like children?” He’s going to have to. And then I remind them about staying with Max and his family and how his step children snuggle right up to him.
The day I met more-like-it, my children got off the bus and my son asked how my day was. I told my children that it had been a great day — in fact, I’d met a really cool guy that morning for coffee. (I did not mention that it was a date.) My son asked, “Mommy, do you think you might have made a new friend?” I hope so, I told him.
I think I’ve managed all this pretty well so far. I have yet to date anyone seriously, so no love interests have been brought into my children’s lives. And I intend to err on the side of caution, dating on the weekends that the children are with their father. I plan to wait until a relationship is heading toward commitment before introducing any man into their lives. These are bridges I’ll cross when the time comes.
Meanwhile, my biggest fumble so far is leaving my sanitized vibrator on the counter top to dry and realizing it was still sitting there when my daughter dumped her water bottle in the sink after school. Oops! Not sure we’re ready for that conversation yet…
The upheaval in my life in the past year and a half is not limited to divorce, single parenting, quitting a job and starting a new one. It’s social, as well. In fact, I can hear The Jayhawks singing right now…
If you asked me today who my best friends are, I’d list the usual suspects. Most are my single girlfriends (you know who you are), and I’ve been able to reconnect with and lean on these girls much more than when I was trying to manage a family life, especially a deteriorating family life. So there has been a lot of shifting in my friendships, and not all of it as positive as I’d like.
As you might imagine, with small children, much of my family’s socialization was right here in the neighborhood, with other couples who had children of similar ages. Some, I was surprised to find, seem a bit suspicious of me following the split…as though perhaps my ex went on a bit of a public relations campaign before moving several neighborhoods away.
In fact, this PR campaign was confirmed by a local wife over a bottle of wine one night. It wasn’t as though she came out and told me he had done this; rather, she hung around until after the other women had left and literally grilled me. In the process she happened to mention that my ex had been over and told his side of the story. And I doubt he stopped there.
Most adults recognize that there are two sides to every story. I was hoping not to have to air my grievances about certain of my ex’s betrayals, simply because I preferred to take the high road. It was over; the damage was done. Dissing him was not productive. In fact, one neighborhood wife had the grace to say, “We saw in your ex the man you fell in love with.” While I knew it was a lie, I appreciated her generosity and refusal to talk bad about him.
I mentioned other broken relationships in the neighborhood — one of those to whom I was closest moved away and, after having spent several years as an at-home mother, now manages half of the parenting, a long-distance relationship and a full-time job. It’s simply become harder to stay in touch. Another close friend moved to the coast. My neighborhood is a lonelier place than it was before.
There is no question that the disruption inherent in divorce extends beyond the family circle and daily life into broader social circles, often making friends feel as though they have to choose, take sides or spare you the knowledge of the party they held last weekend to which your ex (but not you) was invited. And then there’s the couples vs. singles dynamic, where you’re no longer invited to be part of the group because you’re an odd number or a single or you just aren’t thought of by the well-meaning folks thinking of which couples to invite. Divorce forces those around us into an awkward situation.
Recently, I experienced probably the worst possible incarnation that this dynamic might take — its impact on my children.
One of my daughter’s friends invited her to a backyard bonfire and barbecue. As they sat talking about it, my daughter assumed that her brother and I would also be welcome to attend as a list of neighborhood attendees were rattled off. Whispering ensued. I could hear the girlfriend complaining that they didn’t want so many people. This friend has been known to be manipulative and generally prefers to exclude my son, if at all possible. But it seemed there was more…
Later, when we were alone, I expressed to my daughter that sometimes it was a challenge for me to know how to respond to her friend. She agreed. We talked and, as I uncovered more about this dynamic, I had an intuition and asked:
“Did you friend tell you that her parents don’t like me?”
“Yes,” she confessed.
“When?” I asked.
“Awhile ago.”
“Is that why you haven’t been making plans with her for the past several months?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Does that make you feel uncomfortable around her parents?”
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped. I was, of course, hurt. I have been kind, generous and respectful of this couple. Certainly, we have had moments of difference as it relates to our parenting styles, but I would never exclude them or treat them differently for it. By far, though, pure rage outweighed my sadness. Regardless of what this couple thinks of me (and they’ve made plain their sympathy for my ex), one would think they’d have the discretion to limit what they might say in front of children. And, while I doubt this couple actually said the above verbatim, they need to know how grossly inappropriate and un-friend-like it was for their daughter to say something like this to mine. How dare their words be used to so callously injure my daughter’s self-esteem!
Add another difficult conversation and more social awkwardness to my to-do list…
Update: It should be noted that these friends later told me I’d done the right thing (in getting rid of my ex).
the life and loves of Alisa B 