MOM, Did You Forget I’m A Widow?#$!%$!!!

I don’t expect everyone to walk on eggshells around me.  I certainly don’t expect any preferential treatment.  In fact, I  like to be treated like a regular girl with regular problems like everyone else.  I hate the sad head tilts I used to get when running into an acquaintance at the store or the shoulder rub as they ask in slow motion, howwwww arrrrre youuuuuu.  I definitely do appreciate not having anyone fuss over me..  But.. and there is always a but…There are situations that just need to get filed under the insensitive column in the widow rolodex in my head.  Prime example:

I speak to my mother weekly.  Sometimes more depending on what’s going on. She lives in Florida where all Jews go  when they turn 65.  Its the law.  My mom just turned 65 and actually moved to the lovely state about five years ago.  She quickly became very old for her age.  The things she does, her activities, her hobbies and her conversations, …suddenly seem more in line with my 85 year old grandmother instead of the vibrant, active woman she was.  Note to self, stay working, active and have a purpose in life for as long as possible or I will become just like my mother. This may be inevitable.

Usually we talk about the new restaurant she tried and how she sent back her meal or better yet, complained to the manager after she ate the entire meal.  So, my mother’s new thing is to call me every week and tell me about all off her friends’ ailments.  Oh, did I tell you that my friend barbara has cataracts?  And my friend shiela has something going on with her liver.  They are doing tests.  I sympathize and patiently listen to the ailment du-jour and am thankful that my mom herself is physically (not mentally) healthy and doing well.  I always respond with how awful that is and I hope her friend gets better soon.  But the ailment part of the conversation has now evolved into the “guess who died” conversation.  Oh, did I tell you that cousin Marty’s ex-sister in-law died… cancer. I sympathize even though I don’t know who this person was and don’t really know who cousin Marty is either.

Today, I left our conversation with a little side of guilt.  My mother called and gets right to the point.  Not, a hello honey how are you, just right into a monologue… So, I get a call from my friend Rita.  Her daughter Veronica was married for twenty years, two kids and they weren’t getting along for years…years!  Veronica finally asked for the divorce and the husband begged her to try and work things out but she had her mind made up.  she went to the lawyer and started filing the paperwork for the divorce.To make a long story short (this is short?) I am rolling my eyes as I make another cup of coffee and pretend to be interested.  She continued, The other day, Veronica pulled into her driveway with the kids in the car and the husband was hanging from the ceiling in the garage.  I was pacing around my kitchen until I finally snapped.  Enough! Mom! don’t you ever call with good news?  I mean, I don’t have any idea who your friend Sheila is and I certainly don’t know who her daughter or ex-son in law is and even though this is awful and a terrible tragedy, I don’t need to hear about it at 830 in the morning!  I don’t want to hear about this one’s liver and that one’s cancer and I don’t want to hear about this person you know from the club who dropped dead of a heart attack at the tennis courts.  Enough!!!!  Oh..she said, I can’t say anything,  Fine, I won’t talk.  I won’t say a thing.Fine.    As we hung up, I knew this wouldn’t be the last I hear of this.   UGH!

Ok, I know I was a bit harsh on mom today but I’ve tried so many times to tell her gently that it is upsetting to hear all about other peoples illnesses and deaths.  Maybe she just doesn’t get that just because I look and sound happy, I am still grieving.  I may never be totally whole again and talking about death every week with her is making me lose my mind.

Maybe she will get the hint and we can go back to talking about her piece of salmon that had no flavor so she complained and got a free dessert.  Ahhh, those were the days.

New Man – New Gift (V-Day Edition)

As a widow or really anyone finding themselves back in the dating world, you find yourself experiencing certain roadblocks if you will.  Let me lay out the scenario.  You are dating for a few weeks, maybe a month or so.  Things are going well but you are taking things slow.  You have recently been both the “dumper” and the “dumpee” in a handful of short-lived, uneventful relationships.  So, you are taking this one super slow and are cautiously optimistic.  But just as you are starting to get comfortable and develop some real feelings, you see on your calendar that it is fucking Valentine’s Day this weekend.  Oh shit! I mean is there anything worse then a manufactured, Hallmark holiday to completely mess with the mojo of a new relationship?  I can mess things up completely on my own, thank you very much, I certainly don’t need the extra pressure from the sappiest of holiday of the year.

 I set forth on a mental, mind-fuck, trying to decide what would be the appropriate gift or gesture for the new dude in my life.  Hmmm.  Should I go silly and buy a cute little gag-gift like a pair of fuzzy red dice that have different romantic sayings on each side when you roll them?  Should I go romantic and get him chocolate covered strawberries and some silk boxers? Should I go non-commital and get him a wallet or keychain? Or how about practical and get him a work out shirt since he is newly into yoga? The first holiday gift is tricky and can speak volumes of your intensions and character (or lack there of).

There is also the financial element.  I now have total empathy for the men who shell out $150 for diner only to be blown off  the next day.    But the reality is, I don’t want to overspend on someone I’ve only known a month or two. Been there done that. On the flip side, when I care about someone, I am generous and I enjoy buying them gifts.  It is a tough balance.

Beside the gift, there is the added pressure of selecting a card.  I pace nervously up and down the isle shaking my head at the dog card with the google eyes or the glittery heart card that declares he is the love of my life.  Hmmm.  I know Valentine’s Day is about love but they really need a section that is for the newly dating.  Maybe offer a card that says, I really like hanging out with you and I  like the direction things are going! Or a card that says, you are a great kisser…More please!  Why do all of these cards have to declare your undying love ? I had to settle for a card that says, you are my “special friend”.  Really?  special friend?  It sounds more like I am a lesbian then just dating a new fella. But beggars can’t be choosers so the “special friend” card it is!

I guess when it all comes down to it, you have to go with your gut.  I asked myself a few key questions.  1) Do you like this guy? I mean do you really like him and see potential? Yes..yes I do.  2) Is he generous and kind to you? yes, yes he is! 3) Is he romantic, practical or funny? hmmm..Romantic. yes, I am practical but he is romantic.

After a little internal conversation, I talked myself off the dating ledge and avoided another potential relationship crisis.   Now I will hit the mall or better yes, Amazon Prime for the perfect romantic yet practical Valentine’s Day gift for my “special friend”.

 

 

 

 

Holidays Don’t Have to Suck….

 The holidays are here.  The days fly by and we never feel like we can possibly get everything done, but we do. It’s always the same.  Each year we run a marathon between Thanksgiving  and  New Years Day.  Where does the time go? It’s a fun time of year , albeit a little stressful but a good stressful..  The fun of course includes  shopping,  family, cooking and the eating..lots and lots of eating.  I have come to accept the yearly pilgrimage from my normal. structured life to a complete frenzy.  Everyone seems to be in the same mode so we all empathize with each other and pour that extra glass of merlot at the holiday dinner to congratulate ourselves for another year well done.

Only, when you are  a widow, especially a new widow, life shifts into a strange, uncomfortable phase.   It would feel amazing to just crawl in my bed and  plan on hibernating until January 2nd. Ive pondered this many times.  Part of me (a big part of me) doesn’t feel like the holidays feel worthy of my effort or excitement anymore.  I used to run my household and pride myself on well thought out dinners with amazing baked goods perfectly appointed presents for each family member.  But when you suddenly become  sans-husband, all seems a little deflated and beige.

Dynamics are now very different and the holidays are both physally and emotionally awkward.  I don’t always get the invites to family or friends anymore and it would be easy to feel resentful.  Hell, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.  But this like many other aspects of my life, this  requires a new normal.  and  a little more effort (well, a lot) in navigating the holidays.  Here are some of my survival strategies to ensure that the holidays DON’T SUCK!

First, I don’t wait around to be invited.  That is  something I learned quickly in my new life as a widow.  I didn’t want to be that sad girl waiting for the phone to ring to be invited to a holiday party or that couples night out.  It’s way too passive-aggressive for my taste and usually  ends badly.  So, what I do before the holiday season gets underway is to figure out where I’ll be going for all the major events between Thanksgiving and New Years.  Even if I choose to do nothing, I make sure it is a conscious decision to do so.  I call my friends and family and make plans.  There’s no shame in my game! I come right out and ask – “so where are you spending your holiday?” nine out of ten times, I get an invite if I bring it up in conversation.  I’ve come to find that most friends would love to include me but either assume I have other plans or completely don’t think of it. Ive also been told that they thought it would be uncomfortable to me if they invited me with a bunch of other couples..(Hey! Let me decide will ya?)

Second,  I change up my traditions.  Traditions are great dont get me wrong and holiday time seems to be big on traditions.  My husband and I always hosted Thanksgiving, and we always had all of our friends over for the Super Bowl, but sometimes holding onto traditions puts an unnecessary burden and emotional strain on oneself.  Sometimes we just need to give ourselves a break and start a new tradition.  So…since I don’t want to keep mourning my traditions and cry in the cranberry sauce,  I have allowed myself to adopt a few new traditions.  I plan on bringing the dessert and appetizers to my best friend’s holiday feast this year where I will be happy to  let her take care of all the cooking and cleaning.

Third, I find some me time and treat myself.  I hate feeling sorry for myself but sometimes it is inevitable, especially around the holidays.  I’ve come to accept that a little pity party from time to time is probably healthy. With that said, it really sucks to not get a present from my husband each year. I want to be able to open up a big box with a fancy ribbon and have that moment of excitement and validation that he does in fact think of me.  That little game I would play in my head, wondering if he’d even remember and know he probably bought me something at the eleventh hour, but he pulled it off and got me something awesome. I miss that. I don’t want to miss that so I make sure to buy myself something.  Maybe its just  a new lipstick or a cute change purse.  I wrap it up and I leave it on the table.  As crazy as it sounds, it feels good to open it and for a split second, a flash of excitement and surprise comes over me  and I play that game in my head…hmmm what can it be? It is something silly and probably irrational, but it feels good and feeling good is all matters these days.

I hope all of my fellow widows have a happy and healthy holidays this year.  Making lots of new memories and cherishing old ones..

Marketing,Blogging & Followers Oh MY!

I am moving along on my journey as a writer. After four years, I have finished my manuscript and found an editor.  She was great and really helped  organize my thoughts and chapters.  The next step (I thought) was to find a literary agent.  I researched ones who have represented similar titles.  I also researched publishers as same.  I was told that most publishers won’t deal directly with a new writer so an agent may be the way to go.  I then created a query letter and read each publishers’ specifications for submission.  I followed their specific directions and shot off a few emails.  And, I wait….

In the meantime, I am getting brave enough to have friends read my book and see if there is any constructive criticism I can use.  I also am reaching out to writers, and people in the literary field for advice in this process.  BUT…  I am learning that it isn’t enough to just write a book these days.  Oh no! It has to be practically ready to go.  Ready to fly off the bookshelves.  Ready to be seen.  I have to have a following.  The life of an unknown writer is old hat, passé and possibly extinct.  There needs to be a big red bow around my manuscript with its marketability and potential for success intact. I don’t know if I should be inspired or frustrated to learn this.  Part of me feels like..”ok, I will just research how to do this and even if this sets me back a year, I will get started on tweeting, blogging, instagraming..all that is needed to gain followers who will read my book”.  The other part of me, the immediate gratification part of me wants to send this manuscript out, get it recognized by the William Morris Agency and have a ten book deal as well as a Bravo scripted series offered to me stat”.  Yes, I’ve said it.  DADDY, I WANT AN OOMPA LOOMPA NOW!

Ahhh, so here I sit.  Wondering what all of this means.  Social media, “Likes”, “followers”, relevance.  I need to be relevant to sell my idea? It is possible, yet frustrating.  It is plausible, yet long winded, it is worth it yet exhausting.  I guess, it is true, that nothing comes easy and hard work will pay off in the end.  So, I now set forth to a new chapter – or a detour if you will.  It is not to find that literary agent or to get published, but to get followers who will relate, love and laugh with my main character.  I wonder how I go about doing this without giving away the entire god damn book?

In the meantime, I will keep my fingers crossed that someone reaches in and plucks me from the crowd and offers me a chance to cut the line of hopeful wanna be writers.  They will say, “we see something in you! We will publish you and put your whole campaign together and your novel of a funny widow  will be read by millions”.

and then I woke up…

 

 

Dating ADD and Other Lessons

I am now thick into this online dating world.  Each and every correspondence is exciting and invigorating. The men I select to talk to range in age between 40 and 55.  Most are early fifties.  I think men generally date down and woman date up.  Since I am not Demi Moore with a sick body and timeless looks, I will accept this fate and date the men who are a little older than myself.  There are  benefits to dating older.  1) they are already established (well most of them…some still don’t have a pot to piss in). 2) their children are older.  This is good because he can concentrate on me and my children with less responsibility 3) They know what they want and have already had time to grieve their divorce, pay their settlements, sew their oats and now, devote themselves to one fantastic woman.  Well, this is a wide generalization but I am finding in on-line dating, you have to make generalizations like these to narrow things down and find your preferences.

Online dating is not without  frustration. Here are few…

Be Agressive…B.E. Agressive!!!

I have made the mistake of being too aggressive.  It was really just me trying to be thoughtful and organized which seems to be interpreted as bossy.  Men dont like bossy and they cant handle an aggressive woman.  At least not until they have met you face to face and establish a connection.

Not Too Much #@3?$!  – A,K,A, NO SEXTING before Manogamy!!!

In this new age of technology, it is just too easy to get too friendly,very fast.  Too many innuendoes can get down right dirty in a blink of an eye.  This  is a big no-no.  Because until you know the guy, he is an imaginary person that you dream up in your head and vise versa.  He can be gorgeous and charming and know just how to please you.  Then you meet and he is a frog, not the  prince you fantasized about and then there is no tuning back.

Keeping the other person engaged leading up to a date seems to be the biggest challenge for me.  Once they meet me I seem to do fine.  But up till then, everyone is looking for the bigger, better, thing…I call this dating ADD.  he seems nice, but oh, Im having more conversation with this guy, so I will drop the last one and go for this one…Everyone bounces to the next shiney object without focus  – Its all about immediate gratification.

Often. you never get a chance to go on the actual date because the other person has moved on to the next best thing.  Its not about someone being Mr. Right, its about being Mr. Right NOW!

THE RULES –

I was feeling frustrated by all of this dating ADD and had lunch with an old friend. She is also a widow but is about 15 years older than me. She always has the most amazing perspective and advice. I explained what kept happening with this online dating. How one minute we were talking away, emails, texts, etc and then the next thing I knew, I was being blown off… She immediately shook her head and asked if I ever read the book “the rules”. I hadnt but remembered it being popular and mentioned on tv shows over the years. She told me to go buy a copy because. even though it was written close to twenty years ago, the rules remain timeless. I was skeptical. I mean so much has changed in dating. But I was wrong. So much has stayed the same. Men still need to be men and we still need to treat them as such. The Hunters…

Without even reading the book yet, I put some of her “rules” to the test with my online suitors.   I kept things, flirty and light and let the man pursue me. I let him suggest the date, the place, the time etc. I didn’t respond first.  I let him come to me.  A careful dance.  It took a lot for me to drop the sword. I wanted so much to take charge but I let the man take the lead. And it fucking worked.

Who knew that an old book called the Rules ( a book that would make a femanist cringe), could actually work. My life is truly a social experiment and I am the awkward star.

I am off to a date with the latest guy that I implemented these Rules..Lets see what comes of it!

To be continued.

On-Line Dating is Freakin’ Genius!

Say what you want about on line dating.  I mean it certainly has its flaws.  But, when you think of the alternatives there are only a few. 1) getting set up by your friends.  I don’t know about you but my friends have not been helpful in this area.  and the few dates that my friends have come up with are pretty pathetic.  Then there is 2) going to a bar.  Now bars are fun.  If you want to blow off steam and get a little loaded with your friends then i its a great thing to do.  But going to a bar with the sole intention of meeting a man.  Have you seen what is out there? I am usually surrounded by men twenty years my junior or twenty years my senior.  Neither is optimal.  then there is 3) bookstores, markets, classes.  The theory of meeting someone in an environment that represents a place where you go because you want to be there for yourself and not necessarily to meet a guy.  Like if you are interested in pottery, you should take a pottery class and then maybe you will meet someone who share this interest.  Wronnnnngggg! That does not happen and frankly, just because I like pottery doesn’t mean I want to meet a man who likes pottery.  I am too impatient for any of these options.  I am a person who prefers to take charge and have some options.

So, there is this wonderful magical thing called on-line dating!  It did not exist when I was younger.  Who knows, maybe I would have went online to date more men if this existed back then.

You get to go on a website, plug in your requirements: height, age range, religion, ethnicity, even what state you want to look in.  You can get as specific as you want.  Then, Walhalla! out spits lists of men who are all your “type”.  The best part of all is that you start getting emails about how they would like to meet you or how pretty you are…It is the best ego boost ever!  Even if you are not ready to date, I highly reccomend going online to one of the paid dating sites just to get your feet wet.

This online stuff does take work.  If you are serious about love, then you must be serious about your online search.  I am fascinated and intrigued.  I’ve spoken to many men and women about their thoughts on online dating.  Not all share my enthusiasm.  But I think, if you have an open mind, it can be an amazing way to meet people.  More to come on this.  I have met some wonderful men and have had some hysterical experiences…Will share more soon.

Love,

funny  widow

The Hit and Run

I have been starting to wonder:  How does one recognize if they are being hit on.  Ya know, picked up.  Flirted with.  I havent been in the dating pool for twenty years so I cant exactly say, I notice when a man is showing interest in me.  Nor do I put out any signals to them.  I watch Patty Stanger on Millionare Matchmaker and she often gives the advice to look at soeone and hold a stare for five seconds.  Ive tried this and it is almost painful to do.  I can not bring myself to gaze in a stranger’s eyes for any significant amount of time.

I am often in a non-sexy world of being a mom.  I don’t want to hunt men down at the grocery store or at a baskeball practice with my kids. I am completely emersed in mommy-ville and there is no flirtiness in me at these venues.

Even if I wanted to be a flirt, there is no prospective “dads” that I am even attracted to.

This being said, I have noticed lately that when I am in casual conversation with a divorced person (both male and female) they always mention they are divorced.  “I am bringing Suzy to the game Saturday and then to her friends but I am divorced so I will have to swing by her dad’s home and get her uniform”.  Uhm…ok. was this so I feel bad for them because their life is hard?  Or do they not even realize this is part of their vocabulary.  I need to reference the divorcee dictionary for more information.

I was at my daughter basketball practice last week and I always chat with the same handful of parents.  We vent about the tedious schedule or the fact that we haven’t gotten the kids jerseys yet and they have already played four games this season.   This one dad was telling me his daughter pays on three teams.  She is very good and I tell him she seems to really love it.  He proceeds to tell me the schedule is killing him and we laugh.  I can imagine.  I only have my daughter on one team and its a lot to handle.  But thenhe takes it one step further to tell me that he is divorced with full custody and he takes all three of his kids to all fo their games and coaches his younger son’s team as well.  Horay for you i think to myself. He asked me how long i lived in town and had my daughter been playing rec basketball long..blah blah b;ah… Did he tell me this because he just wanted to talk?  Or because he was trying to get to know me more? Or feeling me out to see if I was divorced too?  I could only speculate.  I actually didn’t speculate until hours later.

I am semi-friendly to whoever wants to chat.  So I took it as nothing more than some friendly chit-chat,  but maybe there is some universal divorced-code that I wasn’t aware of.  When you are married you live in a marriage bubble.  kids, friends, family.  But when you are single you are thrust out into a different world with different language and clues.  Like tap once on the bathroom stall if you want some gay sex.  I think divorced and single people have their own language.  I may need to find a tutor to fill me in on this.

I was oblivious to that guys comments until hours later. I really do think he was hitting on me. After I replayed the scenario in my head,  I realized I was clueless to a perfectly good hit and run! Damn I missed it. I could have practiced my five second smile and hair flip (no just kidding).

Oh well, maybe I missed it,  but t was nice to be hit on in either case.  For now, I am happy to be in my “widow bubble”.  Kids, family, friends, food, starbucks and reality tv.  Im good with that.

For now.

Time to Cook Again

I used to cook more.  Not that I was  Betty Crocker but I could throw down a good meal if I must say so myself.  I always enjoyed a good holiday meal.  I Definitely acquired this from my mom, I would meticulously write out a menu, then a shopping list, then figure out each thing I had to do leading up to the day of the meal.  Clean house – check, get laundry done – check. Go to liquor store – check.  Buy food – check.  Prep a few dishes  the night before – check.  Each item always checked off in my mind.  Then, like my grandmother, I would serve the carefully created meal which was wolffed down in a matter of ten minutes and I would say “days to prepare…and minutes to eat..”  Spoken like a true marter.

When Mark died, I lost the desire to cook.  Cooking meant happiness and family.  Somehow our family didn’t feel like a family anymore.  We were just us.  Me and my kids and my relatives.   A bunch a individuals with no glue to hold us together.  Dinners became whatever was in the house.  Whatever I could order in.  My kids never complained.  Hell, if I was a kid getting pizza everyday I guess I wouldn’t complain either.

I slowly started taking pride in making meals again i.  A stir-fry here, a lasagna there.  Gradually some vegetables made their way back on our plates.

Thanksgiving is coming up and this year I actually feel excited to have the holiday dinner again at my house.  Family are coming.  Food is in the fridge ready to be prepared.  I just realized for the first time in three years, I made my menu and prepared my shopping list just like I used to.  As I stare at my big dining room table, I still get a pit in my stomach at the two, grand, end-chairs.  The king and queen chairs as my kids used to call them.  No more king.  But I am happy to once again return to something I actually  enjoyed.  Part of me  is returning after I thought for so long the old me was gone.  So often I do not recognize myself.  I think I purposely try to do everything different. Every tradition, every habbit reinvented for my new chapter in life. Sometimes it is is nice to remember old traditions that were once the source of good memories.  Its hard to admit I had good memories,  Part of me wants to lock those memories up in suitcase and leave them there so I wont be sad.  But this thanksgiving, my old memories are blending with some new ones.

The other main reason I finally decided it was time to host my  own Thanksgiving again, was that I am sick of my friend’s cooking! Now, I love my friends, dont get me wrong.  They invite me and my kids and include me every year.  It is nice to have somewhere to go on all of the holidays. But…

I dont enjoy Leah’s “Turkey Take out”.  She works and is too busy to cook so her Thanksgiving usually consists of a buffet of take out from a local chicken place.  Its fine, but its not home.  It is fake mashed potatoes and watery cranberries and eveyone lining up to fill their plates at a tiny buffet station that she sets up in her dining room.  I feel like a heard of elephants on a bad cruise.

Some of my other friends take the time to cook but again, its just not what I am used to.  One friend loves to make everything into a casserole.  How many dishes can actually have durkey onions on top? And canned cranberries are not the way I like it.  Canned greenbeans, canned gravy, canned flavor.  My hands usually swell up from the salt content.

So, call me a glutton for punishment but I am making my own thanksgiving this year.

A beautiful 8lb Turkey stuffed with fruit and garlic and baked until brown.

A spinach soufflet risen to perfection

Sweet potatoes with marshmallows browned and crunchy (everyones favorite)

Real cranberry sauce with a hint of lemon and orange zest and chopped walnuts

Stuffed mushrooms (I dont know why there are so god but they just are)

Crudités, crackers, olives and dip (appetizer)

Sourdough and spicy sausage stuffing

Smores brownies and vanilla ice cream

Lemon squares

fruit

Warm Apple Pie

I will probably be so tired from this that I will gladly go back to my friend’s “take-out turkey” next year.

No matter how the food turns out, I realize that memories are the most important thing.  Not only new ones but having a place in your heart for old ones.  Smiling when you remember the heated arguments had about politics or the kids snapping the wishbone.  Memories don’t belong in a suitcase.  I think I will take out a few this year and blend them with my new Thanksgiving experience.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Dude, I’m so fucking tired!

The kids are getting older (I have a 12 and 14 year old) and their after school activities are increasing by the day. That is probably every parent’s complaint with teenagers.  I don’t mind really.  I have committed to being a stay at home mom fourteen and a half years ago, and never looked back.  But now that I’m on my own, I think it is funny how people fail to realize, how much I burn the candle at both ends.  I dont expect a reward or a pat on the back but maybe secretly do.

Today I am just going to have a quick pity party for myself and vent about how fucking tired I am, dragging my ass all offer town with  my kids.  Join me wont you?

I dont think many people pay attention to my challenging schedule because everyone is in their own world.  But in everyone else’s world, there is a mother and a father who are tag-teaming all of these activities.  Every now and then, part of me wants to scream from the roof tops…”Hey. People!, I cant make it to your dinner party on time..No, I cant pick up your kids for a play date,, I dont have a babysitter to join you for your jewelry party…Hey dumb-ass, I am only one person!).

The offers from friends have dwindled .  I think after the first six months, I was completely on my own.  Cricket, cricket…nobody around to help the widow out…Everyone went back to their lives.  THEIR mourning period was over.  But then I realized most of my friends don’t get it that  my schedule is so challenging,  The reason for this is because I never complain and I always manage to make things look somewhat easy.  I want my kids to feel normal and if that means running around like a crazy person at 900pm looking for basketball sneakers basketball sneakers, then I will do it.  My kids will feel normal – even it it kills me!

In fact, I do what these “couples” do with half the effort most days.  Usually I run into an acquaintance at the school and they are all complaining about their husbands not helping enough and how stressed out they are – really honey? your stressed? who do you think your talking to? I define stress – But instead, I smile and acknowledge how hard it must be for them. They dont mean any harm.  You cant argue with stupid.

On a daily basis, I pick up from school, get the kids home for a snack and to start (and hopefully finish homework). Then its off to guitar lessons, sax lessons, basketball practice, the library. religious school,  and maybe cvs for some last minute school supplies that I was just informed were needed tomorrow.

At some point, I come home, throw some food down on the table, gobble something less than nutritious myself and indulge in another coffee (4th cup of the day) and the its back out for more.

10pm – come home, get kids to shower and into bed.  Really bed,  Not pretend bed – which is playing on the iphone or ipad under their covers.

1030 -collapse

1031 -watch one of the many DVR’d tv shows.  My programs are my crack.  I will get into that another day- I am sure therapy is needed.

1130 – sleep

6am -do it all again.

Im just so fucking tired dude!

I feel much better getting that off my chest.

How much do you feel like venting?  Feel free.

Sometimes I put on a little reality TV so I don’t have to vent.  Someone else’s life on reality trash tv is so much more pathetic than my own. That usually squashes my need to complain. This week everyone has been so cordial on the housewives of Beverly Hills.  I am sure once Brandy lets her freak flag fly this season, I will feel much better.

Some people need to work out to feel better.  Some go shopping.

All I need is some reality television and a Starbucks.  All is right in the world.

Good night.

The Electrician and the Lie

The electrician just left. I had to replace 7 feet of baseboard heat to a very cold mud-room. If you have been to NJ in late November, you know we don’t mess around with the heat. The electrician, like many repair people I have encountered over the years,  assumes my husband is the reason why the item broke. “Ah, looking at your baseboard ma’am, I see someone tried to re-wire your shut-off valves to the boiler. Did your husband try and do this himself?” I didnt feel like I  correcting him. What was the point.  The truth is, my husband never touched anything related to the plumbing or electrical work in our 50 year old house. He was not at all handy. I never minded because he was completely secure with the fact that he was not handy.  He made the money to pay a professional to do the work.

The electrician was  assessing any other issues with the heat around my house.  He said, “well, this is a large house, how many kids do you and your husband have?”.  I felt another slight stab to the heart.  I answered, “two, and its just me and my two kids”.  GULP. “Oh, ok so your ex is the one who messed up all the wiring…I see.”  all of a sudden the electrician was using my “ex” as the reason for all of my problems!”  Hilarious.  Maybe others would have felt like crying at this point only having to be reminded of their widowed-state, but I took new vindication in the role as the divorce.  I never corrected the man and decided to play along witht eh whole ex-status.  It was just easier.

The electrician then got to my washer dryer area which was very cold.  I explained this was why I called him.  The washer/dryer area must have been ten-fifteen degrees colder than the rest of the house.   In addition to the new baseboard that would have to be installed, he found a hole in my dryer vent which was letting in a ton of cold air.  “ah, he said, let me guess, your ex husband installed this too”?  I shrugged..Actually it was Sears you dumb-ass!”  I wanted to say.

At this point, I almost wanted to defend my husband at that point.  But again, what was the point?  ( UHHH, so I could shut this loud mouth up and put him in his place making him feel like shit?) I knew it wasn’t worth it.

I was relieved when the electrician  finished with the work.  I wrote him a check and walked him to the door.  He was such a talker.  Lots to say about nothing.  He was telling me with such a big house, there were reasons why my heating system wasnt effeciant.  Then he asked m eif I was considering moving to something smaller now that I am divorced.  I almost laughed out loud.  It was at that moment that I realized, widows werent the only ones who had a target on their back for rude and inappropriate comments.  Here I thought widows were unique.  That we were these defenseless targets of the rude and obnoxious.  That there was a sign on our head that said ask me anything!  But apprently there were many types of targets.  Divorced woman were targets too.  Huh. interesting.

The guy finally left and I was alone with my thoughts.  I felt a little dirty.  I was misleading someone to think I was divorced and I actually felt like a failure for a minute.  A failure in marriage 101.  Ok girl, snap out of it.  You had a great marriage to a man who loved you.  You aren’t like “them”.  Your husband didnt leave you.  He just died.

Then I realized, none of us are falires. Not widows, not divorced people.   We are all just trying to survive.

One inappropriate situation at a time.