wasband fail

I’ve had the kind of morning (on my day off, no less) where the heavens have opened once again illuminating the brightly shining truth that my ex is an even bigger jackass than I thought. I need to vent, and I’m not sure who to turn to but my community here. Thank you in advance.

Eleven years ago, for Mother’s Day, he bought me a motorcycle — a beautiful, used classic bike. Now, I’m no tattoed, leather-wearing woman and I certainly have nothing against those who roll that way…but I was an expectant mother at the time, five months pregnant with our first. I had grown up with minibikes and motorcycles and have a fondness for putting around local streets and the idea of running errands with them — neither speeding down freeways or taking long road trips to Sturgis or other places.

Wasband wouldn’t let me ride the motorcycle because of my pregnancy and because it needed some work. He also failed to bring a title home with him — the seller was going to send it once he found it.

Various times during our marriage, I attempted to get him to have it fixed up — it was always too expensive or something (keep in mind I was the sole earner so, while we had little, I was inclined to think I should get some say in what “too expensive” was).

Finally, I am in a place where I have some free time to ride (every other weekend) and a cash flow that will support something a little beyond the bare necessities, so I’m raring to get this bike fixed, registered, my license, etc. I had planned to go down to the government center and begin the process of forcing the title. But, first, why not call?, I thought.

Then the voice over the phone gave me some very, very bad news. The registration shows up in “the system” from many years ago, so they can’t begin with “no proof of ownership.” Thus, my only hope is to track down the complete stranger from whom my ex bought the bike in order to have the title transferred. Apparently a decade is not enough to force such actions.

The voice ended the call with a cheery “okay?” to which I could only reply, “No, this is not okay.” It’s not okay to receive a gift that is little more than a heap of useless metal taking up space in my garage. I’m sure I could come up with yet another way to make this tale a metaphor for our entire relationship, but…

The day is sunny and I’m in no mood to give up — I’m going to get cute, run down to the government center and see who I can sweet talk in to some leads and options. Wish me luck!

car trouble

I was driving down the freeway on the way home from work, admiring all the sexier cars going by, thinking “someday I’ll have a husband who wants me to drive one of those,” when I caught myself at it. I mean thinking that very crazy notion.

And I realized that I don’t need anyone’s approval or wish for me to drive a hot car — I can have whatever the hell car I want for myself because I’m in charge. And I value me and I don’t need approval from anyone. Of course I know this. Of course I’ve had this realization before…yet still, on some level, I realized this mental pattern meant I’m still seeking direction, approval, competence, the “go-ahead” from somewhere outside myself.

Clearly this is a pattern for me: one of those nasty, sticky karmic lessons that doesn’t want to go away until it’s well and truly engrained into my noggin. Seems like every time I peel back another layer, I need to learn the same lesson again, in some nuanced new way…

So I hereby declare myself competent, independent, in charge and approved. As is. And I will do what the hell I want…whether it means driving this rice grinder into the ground or hailing a hot new chariot. It’s all me, Baby!

written in the stars

I have one of those daily horoscope apps on my smart phone. Today, it had this message for me:

“Pretend for a moment that love is like a star in the sky. It twinkles in the distance. It is surrounded by darkness. It is far away and unattainable. You can’t…get in your rocket ship and soar to a star. If you have felt cynical or hopeless about having the best kind of love in your life, it may be because you are — without realizing it — thinking of it as something you cannot really have. But you can. And the time has never been better. Take the first step…”

Hmmm…a thinker: both challenging and really, really nice. I’m open…

word to your mother

A huge shout out to those of you who are mothers, who understand that “loving your children” is more than a feeling, who are living examples of the kind of persons they are trying to raise, who put in the hard work and difficult choices of raising our future citizenry with principles, compassion, love and so much more!

And, then, when I wasn’t looking, The Atlantic published this. Even bigger shout out to the single mothers (and single parents, in general).

crazy life

Life’s been a little crazy, y’all, so I haven’t had much time to write. There are children’s club or school activities each night, and much mayhem in the workplace. Here’s the rest in a nutshell:

I went to my first-ever sex toy party last weekend…and all I could think about was how much fun this stuff would be if there was a guy in my life to experiment with me! (Okay, truth be told, I was imagining the fun my ex boyfriend and I would have had with those toys!) And the other weirdness about it was that, for all the fodder, the girls (friends of a friend) never really got very fun or playful. Most of the women I know will confess that we can easily get far more raunchy than any group of men. Heck, even my co-workers at the office and I have had conversations that were more suggestive and knowing and “girlfriend-y” than what was going on at this “party.” Oh well, at least I can say I’ve been to one.
Mother’s Day is coming up Sunday. My children are cheerily bringing home plants from school and hiding cards and offering me back rubs and other sweet gestures; meanwhile, I’m not sure Hallmark makes a card that adequately expresses the sentiments I feel for my mother at this moment. She has just bought a car with her long-time ex, which prompted a greater flurry of communication between her children (me) and sister (my aunt) and daughter-in-law than we typically have in a given year. What to do with our crazy mother, who has clearly lost her mind?! One day, I got the recap of my sister-in-law’s conversation with her; the next, I heard my brother-in-law pleading with (yelling at) her to “Wake the fu#% up!” in the midst of a passionate and inspired 45-minute diatribe. My own words toward her were frank, laced with kindness and entirely ungenerous to her ex. She is getting a book about verbal abuse for a Mother’s Day gift. If she doesn’t find it useful in her relationship with the sociopath in her home, perhaps she can at least learn to deal with the rest of us.
Finally, my ex (boyfriend, not husband) texted me today, calling me “sweetie.” I wonder if he’s been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about him, or if he just accidentally texted the wrong girl…? Regardless, it was sweet to hear from him.

Stay tuned…

devotion

I feel as though I’ve had a breakthrough: feelings of overwhelm and sadness I had earlier this year have passed and (aside from the allergies) I’m feeling more energetic, waking earlier, powering through most work days, feeling sharp and generally thinking my life is pretty awesome! I am strong and certain of my boundaries.

Looking back on recent challenging times (and, yes, of course I know there will always be more ahead), I view them as part of the process, peeling back another layer of the onion…in a word, growth.

Here, on the other side, I am quite happily not dating. My life is fulfilling as it is. I am also noticing an entirely new level of openness to possibility. (Thus, I suspect I would also be quite happy if I were dating.)

Where a few short months ago I wasn’t able to fully give myself over to a loving relationship, I feel capable now — capable of giving as well as receiving, capable of feeling that kind of full-on “in it-ness,” capable of genuine devotion.

I’m not actively looking, mind you, but I’m open to whatever might develop naturally.

As a footnote, I’ll Have Another just won the Kentucky Derby…he wasn’t the most powerful-looking horse, he didn’t have the most experienced jockey, he didn’t start out ahead of the pack. If a horse like that can come from behind and win the race…well, let’s just say that gives me hope, too.

baby crazy

Today I’ve learned that another of my girlfriends is pregnant. She’s the second wife, and he will have grandchildren older than their coming arrival. And I can’t help but feel just a bit surprised.

Sure, this happens all the time. But, given their lifestyle and such, I guess I’d just assumed that they’d talked before getting married and decided to be wonderful aunt and uncle and grandparents. But, oh, what a wonderful treat to have a baby!

I met another friend and her one-year-old for brunch over the weekend. My children sat bored and restless, playing with electronic devices, while I, smitten, cooed over the darling little girl. My girlfriend was 39, nearly 40, when she had her daughter. Another girlfriend has just undergone IVF…fingers crossed.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve got babies on the brain. I suppose it’s safe to confess that I’m baby crazy!

Would I have another? I’ve gone back and forth many times since my youngest was born (now more than eight years ago), even considering becoming a surrogate to give another couple the joy of becoming parents. My son even remarked a few years ago, “Mommy, I think you’d have another baby if you could.” Last week, I saw a profile of three children waiting for adoption and wished I were capable of bestowing such miracles on my own. I’ve often thought about hosting exchange students or taking in foster children…if I weren’t a single, that is. (Even as a single, I may yet do such things as my children grow a wee bit older…)

Ultimately, with my other roles as parent and provider, such musings have yet to come to anything. And today, while I’ve counted myself for some time among the well and truly finished, unwilling to go back to wee-hour feedings and diaper pails, I think I might just be open…if the stars aligned…if the man and wind conditions were right…perhaps if I could stay home at least part of the time…I might be open to considering it.

My children are, of course, dead set against this. But they can be bribed. Further, they are not in charge.

Ultimately, my conclusion is this: I have an open heart and an open mind and many, many gifts that might be shared in any number of ways. For the moment, I’ll revel in being an honorary aunt to my friends’ babies — and someday, sooner than if I had a newborn, a social life.

Peter Pan

Somehow I’ve always managed to attract a certain type of men: When I was not yet thirty, the fifty-year-olds were drawn to me like white on rice, like moths to a lamp. Lately, it seems to be guys who don’t want to grow up, who want to live in the moment, who don’t have any kind of vision for the future. Or is it just that a disproportionate number of the available men out there are single because they aren’t interested in commitment?

In any case, I sometimes wonder whether I should be concerned about the trend, concerned that maybe I’m giving off a “fantasy” vibe, rather than “marriage-potential” vibe.

I’ve been clear about what interests me, and I’ve aligned my behavior to my long-term interests, eschewing easy dalliances. After all, I’d hate to end up back in a relationship with a man who ultimately required as much parenting as my children. A man (by this age) ought to have some sense of self, strong core values and a clear understanding of the expectations of commitment. He ought to be mature enough to behave with integrity and conduct himself with a certain amount of dignity.

My latest six-month romance was with a man who bucked the trend: he was dignified and intentional (though he would have said “deliberate”) about living a set of values. In fact, he may have been the most mature man I’ve ever dated. It goes without saying that these are qualities I admire.

So I’m going to bless that chapter of my life, express my gratitude for the experience and know, with confidence, that I’ll recognize such qualities when I next experience them.

a whole new world of weird

It’s interesting that I feel so grounded and centered with so much weirdness around me:

Someone material to me has just made one of the most unmitigatedly, colossally poor decisions of her life: she has allowed her ex to move back into her life and into her home. The ex is certainly narcissistic, quite possibly a psychopath, who was fired from his job for screwing an intern (in his office) who called him “Dad.” This is while married. The divorce was ugly; she has struggled to manage a large house and finances since. And she’s willing to take the philandering douchebag back… Ugh. Sadly, the woman in question is my mother. Containing the fallout will surely mean my relationship with her changes, as will the relationship she has with my children. The manipulative man formerly known as my stepfather has no place in my life.

Meanwhile, I’ve shared this news with my ex, whose response was that — if she could forgive and take him back — perhaps there was hope for us to reconcile, as well… Um, no.

Despite the drama going on around me, I’m managing my boundaries…so far, so good anyway.

perceptions

When he first met me, my former guy thought I was proper, “prissy” and materialistic. While he recently mentioned that he still thinks I’m prissy (what on earth does that even mean, prissy? and are there girls who aren’t?), I think he ultimately saw beyond his other misperceptions to a woman whose heart and values are in the right place.

A work colleague recently confessed that her now husband thought she was repulsive and obnoxious the first time they met…and now look!

One guy I dated pressed me about my first impressions about him until I finally confessed, “man boobs.” I said this while we were in bed. We both had a good laugh and, the next day, he started doing push ups.

My point is that perceptions are regularly skewed, our snap judgements are often just plain wrong, and it’s often more rewarding to keep our hearts and minds open and allow the magic of the universe to unfold.

I mean, what if it was all part of the cosmic plan for the hung-over ball player to be so put off by the gregarious, fun-loving woman from work, just so that he noticed her? Where would life have led them if he hadn’t?

What have you missed out on because you judged too quickly or harshly?

What beauty or bliss have you experienced because you led with your heart?