Losing it . . .

I've lost so many things lately . . .

Most importantly, I lost the contents of my safety deposit box. Most recently, I misplaced some diagnostic essays my students wrote; thankfully, I just found those. E told me yesterday, "Well, you always seem to find things," which is true, but that doesn't mean it it easy to stomach the fact that I lose sight of things, even if only temporarily.

Of course it means I'm distracted. I have many balls in the air, two jobs, three classes, four TA's, a now four-year-old in a speciality school (how many meetings can you have in a month?), and a 5-star relationship (there are five of us to consider most of the time, me and A and E and his two kids).

How can I get everything done? It looks like I may need more help than I have right now. Specifically, I need some help with childcare when A is with me from Thursday night through Tuesday mornings. I need to get some work done during that time and when I'm alone with A, work of any kind is impossible.

That's why I loose track of just about everything.

Oh, Happy Day

E is back. I'm happy. It is much more fun with him around. Tonight we tried the wing place up the street. There were dozens of different kinds of wing sauces to choose from, so of course we chose what we thought looked the hottest, a sauce with some great name I forget, and . . . it brought us to our knees, both of us dripping tears and snot, our lips swollen, our mouths burning, chewing on ice just to keep from clawing the walls. Excellent stuff. When the waitress asked how the food was, E replied, "Perfect." He was rolling his eyes and puffing his cheeks and I couldn't help but enjoy the spectacle, because this is the guy who thinks he's hotter than hot stuff. Ha.

We also talked about "the ring." I may not have mentioned, I probably didn't, but I'm wearing a stunningly beautiful triple-diamond ring. The ring . . . he bought for his ex-wife for their 10th Anniversary in order to reaffirm their marriage after her multiple afffairs, the only problem is . . . she left him before their 10th Anniversary. So. I'm wearing the ring.

I went looking at new settings and other rings on the weekend. The appraiser who was helping me asked, "What's wrong with that ring?"

I answered honestly, "Nothing. But, it wasn't intended for me."

"Right. Good reason for resetting it then."

My dilemma is . . . will resetting it really make it my ring?

The reason I'm wearing the ring is . . . he had it . . . it was beautiful . . . and he thought I might like to wear it. Yes, I do like wearing it, but I also feel like a fraud.

He's often said, well, just pick out a ring and I'll buy one for you.

But it isn't that easy, once you've been wearing this expensive and beautiful ring he bought for his ex-wife.

So. I have to decide soon, do I reset this ring, or get another altogether? I probably could not choose a ring as expensive or beautiful as the one I'm wearing, because of who I am, the extravagance of it, and the fact that I have grown quite fond of the ring I'm wearing.

Do I just change my attitude or do I change the setting?

Not a huge problem, I admit.

Nose to the Grindstone

This year will be all about working hard. I know it. A and I are shifting into new roles. E and I are finding new ways of relating. What will this year bring for us?

I hope A will learn French. I don't think she's twigged to the fact that she's in French school. As far as I see and understand (when I was there for her birthday), whenever she's on her own there (amid 26 other kids), she talks English with English-speaking kids, or replies in English to French-speaking kids. The teachers have asked me whether she speaks other languages at home. I say no, she's just making up words she thinks sound French when she speaks her own special brand of gibberish. I hope they aren't offended. They just seem perplexed.

I hope I will get through this custody chaos and move on . . . and it is hard to even imagine to that . . . I don't even know what I want to move on to . . . a life with E? Is that something I can imagine? Not soon. Move A once she's adjusted to this new school? I couldn't do that.

Will I have more work? I can see that . . . but I'll need more time. Will I have more time? Less A? Is that worth it? What about money? I need more money.

Oh, I can't think about it. All I can do is work. I don't have much of a social life anymore because, well, I live farther away from the centre and it isn't easy to just walk out the door and see someone or do anything other than maybe run or go to the grocery store.

Right now it is still all about A, E, and me, just trying to survive.

Surving Birthday Week

All of these recent weeks are as long as months, they go on and on, circling back into each other, seemingly, an unending cycle. On Monday I got word that my daughter's birthday celebration was on Thursday, this after booking Friday off. My ex had taken all the information about her school party out of the school communication envelop and her teacher hadn't confirmed the event when I asked for missing information. It worked out eventually; I was able to go, but only after a shuffling a number of things around. The worst was knowing how far my ex goes to disrupt me and his daughter. There is something wrong with him.

The rest of the week was busy with work and preparing for the birthday celebrations on Thursday and again on Friday. Today, I'm recovering.

E's away, thankfully. I'm alone. This makes it easier to hole up in bed with a book and tea, work through missing hours, and prepare for a full-on day of marking tomorrow.

The End of a Long Week

When A got home today she was cranky and difficult. She badly wanted to play with the neighbours, so I quickly changed and we walked across the street and knocked on their door. There was no answer, so I encouraged her to return to our yard to play, but she wouldn't budge. Eventually, I carried her back across the street. She was furious.

I decided to give her a time out. She resisted. I tried to appearse her, but nothing worked. She was snarly. Finally, I told her I had had enough. I explained that I had important things to do (urgent work matters that popped up on my email at 5:00pm) and she could have the time out on my bed or on hers. She decided to stay in my room and pulled the covers over her head. Within seconds she was asleep. Thank God! It is so hard to deal with whining and obstinance, especially after a particularly challenging week trying to get both of us into our new routines.

When do things settle down, I wonder? I guess we are just both exhausted, but there's more to it than that . . . it is that our lives have become suddenly complicated and we are both trying to manage. It isn't easy all this running around and spending time apart. I long for simplicity. We were supposed to have an advance birthday celebration with E and his kids tonight, but that won't happen now and maybe wasn't such a good idea to begin with.

Her class tomorrow was cancelled and I wonder whether to schedule another or just let it be, for now. I'm leaning towards letting it be. Our lives are overscheduled as it is and we need time to just hang out. Besides, it would be difficult to get her father on board for the alternative 9:30 am class tomorrow morning. Instead, maybe we'll go to the park and relax. It feels like forever since we've done that. How quickly the pace of life can chance.

The Missing Backpack

Yesterday when A arrived home on the bus she was wearing her "indoor" shoes, dragging her jacket, and missing her backpack.

"Where's your backpack?" I asked.

The kids on the bus answered for her, "Someone took it," chirped a number of voices.

The bus driver said, "She didn't have it getting on."

I was a bit perturbed. I hunted all over Scarborough on a Sunday morning looking for a logo-less backpack to replace her taboo Dora backpack.

"Who took your backpack?" I asked A.

"I can't tell you, Mommy," she said, then changed the subject.

Is she my daughter? I can't believe she wouldn't tell me. Was this some form of bullying?

"Of course you can tell me," I said. "You can tell your mommy anything."

"Can we just go home?" She said and rushed ahead of me.

Oh, dear.

So, I called the school when we got in, and in halting French explained to the answering machine what had happened. Of course they didn't answer in person, they never do, neither do they return phonecalls.

"Let's drive to the school to look for it." I suggested.

"I want cheerios," replied A.

"Okay, cheerios, then school."

A nodded.

By the time we got to the school no one was there. Neither was her backpack. The mystery wasn't solved until this morning when I tailed the bus to the school and told her teacher what had happened. Her teacher doesn't speak English. I have a hard time believing anyone living and working in Ottawa can't speak English. Anyway, she told me that a child from another class had taken the backpack. She didn't tell me how or why. She shrugged and said it would likely be returned. Well. Not really a good enough answer, but I wasn't going to argue, particularly not in my halting French.

After playing in the school yard a few minutes with A, I saw a mother walk past carrying A's backpack . One of the little girls from A's bus came over and said, "The backpack came back."

I nodded. "Yes, I saw it go by."

When A's teacher handed it over to her, A burst into tears. "I don't want that backpack," she wailed.

Oh, dear. This is just the beginning. Am I up for dealing with the vagaries of grade school?

Meeting the in-laws

I guess this weekend was significant in that I met the people who have been closest to E over the past 10 years. They were nice, but it was still awkward. They kept referring to his ex as though I knew her, but I don't, and now feel I should.

I kept running into photographs of her in the house, which I scrutinized for signs of her children and appeal to E. Meanwhile, E and I slept in the double bed in the guest room and I couldn't help but imagine that he'd stayed in that bed before with her, as her husband. I then couldn't help but think, 'What am I doing here?'

The kids were thrilled to be with their grandparents and disappeared as soon as we arrived, which left E and I time alone to shop, go out for dinner, and see a play. He seemed unfazed by the situation while I thought about it without much alarm in the delirium of fever.

So, this is the new normal for both of us, for the kids, for the grandparents. People just go on and resign themselves to what is, I think. They often do not want to get into problematic speculations about what was, what should be, or what may come.

Of course, I spend a lot of my time brooding about all of that, which perhaps I have to stop, because really, what does it matter? This is what is and it is fine.

On a not-so-fine note; however, is A. She had an extremely hard time going to the before-school program today. It may have been because she'd been away from me all weekend and was up early and facing more time away from me again. Another possibility is that she really doesn't like the program. She kept saying, "I don't like this school." I know she loves her other school, her all-day school, but maybe it is just too much school and too much time away from me too fast. She's only three. I can't imagine not being home from 8 am through 5:30 pm, yet I somehow expect her to accept it easily. It isn't easy for her. This situation probably never will be and I do feel terrible about that.

What will she know as normal? What will that mean for her life and her children? How will she feel about this childhood when she is able to see it through adult eyes? Will she ever forgive us?

Beginings

It has taken me years to realize that I'm not good with beginnings. This start of school for A and for me, this weekend away to meet E's ex-inlaws, all good things, have left me exhausted and sick.

The case conference date is now apparently set for mid-November. What a waste of time and energy. All I want is for A to be healthy and happy and strong. How can I ensure that? I'm trying to work this out. What else can I do?

I'm too tired to write more . . .