Monday, February 28, 2011

Blank

Snow spits and flows by my window as I stare into the blank white space of my back yard and yearn for sleep. The lethargy of fatigue settles in whenever I stop to think, but I fret and buzz despite it. I don't want this, but I can't seem to do anything about it. I keep trying to give way, but nothing happens.

This must be the after effects of long-standing stress. I can't settle down. I can't feel the relief I thought for sure would come. It hasn't. It may never. My lawyer said, stupidly, "You look better. Your face isn't as contorted as it was when I first met you."

Oh, thanks. Yes. Acknowledge the consequence of pain, but not the thing itself or your part in prolonging it.

In fact, I wasn't looking better, I had just hacked off my hair. Isn't that what women usually do to symbolize change and signal a sense of liberation when maybe all they feel is defeat?

Last night A and I slept at E's house, having made the journey there to watch the Oscars. A wasn't interested in what clearly wasn't a cartoon; E's daughter tried to be interested, but quickly fell asleep; and E, having cooked and cleaned to his satisfaction, sat with his feet on me and asked me to rub his 'injury,' a split shin he got from a nasty tumble with a baggage carousel. He was still so jetlagged from his trip to Europe that he went to bed at 10:30 pm, promising to wake me at 6:30 am, perhaps with a scream of anguish at the ungodly hour.

I didn't sleep and still can't. The unplowed roads this morning threw me into an adrenaline panic so intense that I cannot relax. The prospect of walking to A's school to retrieve her because the school buses aren't running is daunting, but I refuse to use the car again lest my fatigue lead to some avoidable accident. Often, I am able to redirect days like this with a nap, but not today. I'll have to weather it, but I'm not able to animate it.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Biodome

I took a couple days off. The day of the settlement and the wiring fiascos was a write off. Friday, I took A on the train to Montreal, during a massive snowstorm, through which I had to slog with a stoller, while she slept. The Montreal Metro was not made for strollers. I had to hoist her up dozens of stairs, thankfully with the help of kind strangers. I had to take multiple lines and buses and walk and . . . finally arrive before dark at my friend R's beautiful plateau apartment, where A woke, was happy, and watched Angelina Ballerina videos to her heart's content.

This morning we went to the Biodome where I tried to coax A to look at the Lynx and the monkeys and she ran around enthusing about the water fountain.

Now I'm at home and waiting for E to come and get me. I just finished Freedom and think that Jonathan Franzen is brilliant and wise. I hope with all my heart that I can survive my life and leave A with good memories of her mother.

I need to sink into hot water now. I need to drink my cheap Mistero Malbec and forget. I need to toast endings and beginnings and start to dream again.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Settled!

It is over. For now. I am just exhausted. It was grueling and painful. My lawyer said his other client described it as "far worse than childbirth." All I can say is, childbirth doesn't last for 4 years!

Meanwhile, I chose this particular week to get my house rewired, which resulted in large ragged holes being punched into my plaster walls, my beautiful, antique fixtures being broken, the wrong fixtures installed, and several strange things going missing. Why do I do this to myself?

E, of course, is away in Europe. He gets to relax and eat mushy peas in Edinburgh while I tear my hair out here. The good news is that we can now plan our Christmas vacation. Maybe finally I'll have a chance to relax.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Freedom

I loved The Corrections and I'm loving Freedom too. I wish I could just spend today reading, but I can't. E's in Belgium, A's with her Dad, and I have to work. I have just this one day to myself, from sun up to sun down. It really isn't enough. However, however, soon, soon, things will change . . .

Offers went back and forth last week. Another "final offer" is with my ex this weekend. It was a painful week knowing that after four years my daughter will be spending more time with her father and I will have to adapt. I remind myself that I will have more time for other things, but that doesn't console me. It will just feel like a distraction, until, maybe . . . something changes again.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Letting go

This morning at the breakfast table A began crying.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to go to Daddy's," she whimpered.

I paused. "But you like spending time with Daddy," I said. "And Daddy wants to see you. You have fun with him, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied, "but I miss Mommy."

I can't help but feel that I am the mother in the Solomon story who finally lets go. The one whose child is pulled away by force, lest she be ripped apart by it. I feel at this moment, with yet another final version of a settlement offer sent off, that my child has been torn from my arms and my heart has been torn away with her.

E reminded me that this isn't something I can avoid. That doesn't make it easier to accept. My friend HD's words haunt me. She said you can always fight. That I should fight. That I have to protect my daughter.

E said, "But children of divorce don't have a choice. They have to deal with situations like this."

"Yes," I agreed reluctantly, "but neither of us chose this and neither of us want our children to deal with this."

My lawyer said, "I don't think this will go to court. But you know X better than I do."

"Well," I replied, "I really don't. That was my mistake. I never knew him."

The tragedy of this situation is that the beautiful little person in the middle has to pay for her parents' mistake.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Ball de Neige

I just awoke from a long recovery nap. Today was one of those spectacular winter days of bright blue sky, sun, and crisp snow that will live on in memory forever, likely, because it made A so happy. Her little friend's dad and I spent hours with four bright little girls who ran and rolled and slid and spun about in the snow. They also fought and cried and fell and fussed. At one point A turned to me and said, "Mommy, I'm so happy! I'm so happy to be here with my friends." Later, she wasn't so happy when she and her little friend argued about who got to catch me at the bottom of the slope, but made me proud when she apologized to her friend after the falling out.

If I can do anything right, I hope I can give A the courage to be loving, kind, faithful, and true to herself and others. That would go a long way to helping me feel that her father's influence will not have a lasting detrimental effect.

Last week she said to me, "Why did you make my daddy sad?" because apparently he told her that he left me because I made him sad.

"I don't know sweetheart," I replied. "I didn't mean to make him sad. I think it is important that if someone makes you sad you talk about it. You work things out."

A's father doesn't know how to talk about things or work things out. However, I'm sure she'll know better. It seems to me she already does, and I'm grateful for that.

Hanging out with her little friends, I can see that A's personality is far more retiring and measured than those of her peers. Her teacher told me as much. At the meeting I had with her this week, she reassured me that A is doing much, much better, which was a huge relief. She also said that A holds her own and isn't easily influenced by her friends and their bad behaviours. I know, however, that she is hurt by slights and fights, and she won't be able to avoid those from what I can see.

I'm happy she'll have today, though. This will be a magical memory of sparkling snow; long, icy slides; fuzzy mascots; maple taffy; immense snow sculptures; friends, and sheer winter fun.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Finally

I finally heard from my lawyer. He said what I hoped he would, that no judge would impose the kind of restrictions on me that my ex is trying to impose on me.

"It's all about him," he said, and I thought, exactly.

So, we are sending it back, saying, no, can't agree to that, and we'll see what happens.

I'm still exhausted, but I'm trying to keep up. Tomorrow I'll go on a field trip with A's school. Tonight is a parent/teacher meeting. E is out of town, interviewing people. We'll have a romantic dinner out this Saturday, when I'll hope to feel well enough for a glass of deep red wine.

I bought E a bag of sweets and treats and A a sparkly little dress. I promised A I'd take her out for a Valentine's dinner so that she could wear her new dress (she peeked and saw the dress in the bag).

I just want to celebrate love.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Slow

After starting anti-biotics on Friday, I seem to be coming around, but slowly. Without the capacity to smell, the International Buffet was a bit of a disappoitnment. Besides, E and I have vowed to eat better, smaller meals, and going there wasn't really going to help facilitate that. We watched Going the Distance at home later, which I found rather crude and a turn-off, but maybe that just means I'm getting old.

My lawyer still hasn't returned my request for a call. I want to work something out, but it may be that nothing can be worked out if the only option is to agreed to be restricted in unreasonable ways. Looking back, I'd have to say that my relationship with my ex was co-dependent and it still has aspects of that to it. He is really tryint to control my life by dictating how and where I live and what I do with my daughter. I cannot understand how someone who is supposedly happy with his new partner and child can keep harassing me.

Anyway, thank God I don't have to live with him on a daily basis. The problem is that A will carry the conflict in her cells and that it will eventually surface and cause some variation of hell for her, if it isn't already doing that.

After the death of my dryer, perhaps from unwittingly overloading it with bedsheets, I had to do out and buy a new set. I was already to purchase one at Sears when I found what I thought was a better deal on a higher rated consumer reports pair at The Brick. I spend my precious Sunday afternoon alone to go to check it out. The set I wanted, Whirlpool Duet, according to the salesguy wasn't nearly as good a deal as the Front Loading LG set on sale . . . so, I was seduced by the talk, and bought the more expense (and blue) washer and dryer. The problem will be how to install it, since my current dead dryer is wired directly into my electrical panel. I have an electrician coming today. That may involve more expense than for the laundry set . . . and I was going to try to renovate my bathroom this spring.

Oh, household expenses! The reason I'm not entirely balking is because my daughter's schoolmate's parents just had their little house reappraised after a lot of small improvements to the property and it went up from their purchase price of $247,000 to $335,000. Quite the jump in value. If I can slowly work through some changes here, rent the place if I choose to live with E, keep paying the mortgage, maybe this house will appreciate too. I certainly appreciate it, but I'm sure it takes a special kind of buyer to live as small as we do.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Fever

I've been out for almost a week with a fever. So has A. Now she has a secondary ear infection and I have a secondary sinus infection and we're still miserably uncomfortable. Or I am. My nose is raw on the outside, edged in crust, and still gooey with immovable gunk inside. A seems relatively well. She certainly enjoyed having lots of one on one time at home this week, whereas I didn't think I'd survive it, as I tried to keep up to my classes, deal with my broken down clothes dryer, shovel my 40 foot long driveway, and entertain her while battling a raging fever and feeling like I'd been imbibing lead.

Anyway, the worst is over (I'm knocking on wood). I have the International Buffet to look forward to tonight, a movie with E, then 120 papers and my special research project tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'm still waking up at 4 am and pacing with frustration over my ex's counter offer, which clearly illustrates his self-centeredness, as he is demanding that all of her schooling and extra-curricular activities take place within a 10 K radius of his house. It isn't about her with him, it is all about him.