Oh, I'm so excited. We just got Netflix! I know, we're probably the last to do so . . . but still! E says, "See, technology isn't so bad after all."
I watched the Katy Perry movie just now. It was fun! Winter isn't going to be so bad . . . what with all this distraction. I know I'll need it. My own life isn't bearable without it . . .
Ah, should I really complain? No, I should be grateful. Being grateful is supposed to burn up all that negativity and set you right. So. I'm grateful. I am . . . for . . .
-my girl
-my man
-my home
-my health
-my hope
-having fun
-griping
-sun and the still warm November
-Netflix!!!
-the sleep I do get . . .
which I'll aim for now . . . with that extra hour all tucked away for safe keeping.
Bonne nuit.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Otherwise
I guess all I can do is try to be myself and . . . write more.
I'm re-reading Eat, Pray, Love where Gilbert quotes Sheryl Louise Moller - "Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth."
Watching Polley's movie, I realize that we don't often do that as women. We are shut up in our marriages and habits and we are often in denial. The truth makes things harder to bear, materially, I think. My mother just coasted along inside her head, accepting her marriage as the vehicle that supported her . . . and living quietly within its confines. I can see that I have been trying to do the same.
My husband is preoccupied with his first family and A and I are ignored most of the time. We share a living space and snippets of superficial conversations . . . and that's about it. Intimacy isn't easy for him. I'm starving.
His ex-wife had affairs. That's not my M.O., but I do need something.
I do need more.
What can I do to survive until I can surmise what to do about this all?
I can . . .
-be open to the possibility of this getting better
-be a good mother
-live as authentically as possible
-focus on my own work and pleasure
-try to expand my social circle
Keep thinking about it. Keep trying. One foot in front of the other.
I'm re-reading Eat, Pray, Love where Gilbert quotes Sheryl Louise Moller - "Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth."
Watching Polley's movie, I realize that we don't often do that as women. We are shut up in our marriages and habits and we are often in denial. The truth makes things harder to bear, materially, I think. My mother just coasted along inside her head, accepting her marriage as the vehicle that supported her . . . and living quietly within its confines. I can see that I have been trying to do the same.
My husband is preoccupied with his first family and A and I are ignored most of the time. We share a living space and snippets of superficial conversations . . . and that's about it. Intimacy isn't easy for him. I'm starving.
His ex-wife had affairs. That's not my M.O., but I do need something.
I do need more.
What can I do to survive until I can surmise what to do about this all?
I can . . .
-be open to the possibility of this getting better
-be a good mother
-live as authentically as possible
-focus on my own work and pleasure
-try to expand my social circle
Keep thinking about it. Keep trying. One foot in front of the other.
Friday, November 1, 2013
The Stories We Tell
While the whole of the city was treat-or-treating, I was holed up watching Sarah Polley's movie, which I found in the express section at the library. It was deeply moving - and what was interesting was that as a viewer you were moved by everyone's story. The linking narrative was that of Polley's father who raised her . . . but her perspective was the film itself, which was about trying to understand her mother, I think, and then, there were all these other people who each had their own story that in some way related to her mother.
Of course, I brooded over the mother's marriage and relationship trajectory. What was she looking for, I wondered. What did she really find? Why did she make the decisions she did and were they worth it.
I think about this all the time myself. What am I doing in this marriage? Am I able to be fulfilled here? What can I do about it?
I guess for many people, affairs are a way of helping them feel connected and engaged when their marriage doesn't provide them with that kind of emotional intimacy, but what can you do otherwise?
Of course, I brooded over the mother's marriage and relationship trajectory. What was she looking for, I wondered. What did she really find? Why did she make the decisions she did and were they worth it.
I think about this all the time myself. What am I doing in this marriage? Am I able to be fulfilled here? What can I do about it?
I guess for many people, affairs are a way of helping them feel connected and engaged when their marriage doesn't provide them with that kind of emotional intimacy, but what can you do otherwise?
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Most Wonderful Time of the Year
It is time to start again. School is on the horizon. A is starting a new one and I'm hopeful this school will be a better fit for her. I'm hoping this year will be easier all round. The first year of stepdom was awful, but the second isn't supposed to be much of an improvement.
E's ex is causing everyone a lot of anxiety. She's increasingly unable to handle her dysfunctional marriage or care for her kids. That leaves us stepping up . . . and this isn't easy on me. I rarely see E, which isn't how I imagined marriage would be. I'm convinced that second marriages are an entirely different entity. I wish someone would have explained this earlier. There isn't any honeymoon period, it's all itch.
Anyway, here we all are. My ex is apparently talking marriage with a new love interest, someone A has never met. That may well complicate everything even more. Will there be another step-sibling on the horizon for A? I hope not. She's heartbroken now at not seeing her half-brother now that her father has given up on visitation. I can do little about that other than wait it out and hope that they can reconnect someday.
This transition time is all about hope . . . and change. May we all weather it well . . .
E's ex is causing everyone a lot of anxiety. She's increasingly unable to handle her dysfunctional marriage or care for her kids. That leaves us stepping up . . . and this isn't easy on me. I rarely see E, which isn't how I imagined marriage would be. I'm convinced that second marriages are an entirely different entity. I wish someone would have explained this earlier. There isn't any honeymoon period, it's all itch.
Anyway, here we all are. My ex is apparently talking marriage with a new love interest, someone A has never met. That may well complicate everything even more. Will there be another step-sibling on the horizon for A? I hope not. She's heartbroken now at not seeing her half-brother now that her father has given up on visitation. I can do little about that other than wait it out and hope that they can reconnect someday.
This transition time is all about hope . . . and change. May we all weather it well . . .
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Mid-Summer
Mid-summer is like mid-life . . . I don't want to believe I'm there.
A is off with her dad today and soon off on a summer vacation with him for 6 days, the longest she'll ever have been away from me. Maybe that's why I'm in such a bad mood. There's also the fact that E's kids are returning from their vacation today . . . never something I look forward to, although he does. It is bound to be like this.
Good news is . . . I had a reading of my new play this week . . . and it went well. I'll now start in on some revisions and hopefully do something with it once I'm satisfied with it. It's been a long way back to playwrighting since my first attempt in my early twenties, but after seeing The Madrid in New York this spring, I thought I really should take it up again, the haters be damned, so I have, and will and that's it.
This has been a glorious summer. I've loved it. I'm reluctant for it to end. I want life to uncurl like it, a stream of explorations and discoveries. At the same time . . . I've been experiencing stress and doubt . . . but I suppose that's inevitable.
E and I have made it to our paper anniversary. For that, I'm thankful. We're not perfect, but we're okay . . . we're fine . . . we're still here. . . and maybe after another year . . . it will be better. When it is just us two, we are fine, the kids make it complicated, but they are unavoidable.
Seasons change . . . they will too, we'll all go on and maybe, maybe, someday, it will get easier.
A is off with her dad today and soon off on a summer vacation with him for 6 days, the longest she'll ever have been away from me. Maybe that's why I'm in such a bad mood. There's also the fact that E's kids are returning from their vacation today . . . never something I look forward to, although he does. It is bound to be like this.
Good news is . . . I had a reading of my new play this week . . . and it went well. I'll now start in on some revisions and hopefully do something with it once I'm satisfied with it. It's been a long way back to playwrighting since my first attempt in my early twenties, but after seeing The Madrid in New York this spring, I thought I really should take it up again, the haters be damned, so I have, and will and that's it.
This has been a glorious summer. I've loved it. I'm reluctant for it to end. I want life to uncurl like it, a stream of explorations and discoveries. At the same time . . . I've been experiencing stress and doubt . . . but I suppose that's inevitable.
E and I have made it to our paper anniversary. For that, I'm thankful. We're not perfect, but we're okay . . . we're fine . . . we're still here. . . and maybe after another year . . . it will be better. When it is just us two, we are fine, the kids make it complicated, but they are unavoidable.
Seasons change . . . they will too, we'll all go on and maybe, maybe, someday, it will get easier.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
A Year Out
E and I are approaching our first year anniversary. We are celebrating by attending a friend's wedding and staying at a downtown hotel. How lovely to be able to remember our wedding while watching another one.
This has been an arduous year . . . the stepfamily taking up most of our time and energy and creating almost unbearable stress; however, they say the first year is the worst . . . the second marginally better, then things begin to settle down, if you survive.
I've been reading every stepparenting guide I can get my hands on. Two favourites are Stepmonster by Wednesday Martin and Surviving and Thriving in Stepfamily Relationships by Patricia Papernow.
The surprising thing that you learn after you marry a man with children, is that stepfamilies can never be like normal families. They are far more stressful and problematic than you might expect and there really is no easy way to blend. Good intentions get in the way. Low expectations and professional help are perhaps the best way through.
I thought marrying E would make life better . . . often, I wonder if that's true. I love being married to him, most of the time, but the stuff around that makes it hard to appreciate.
Anyway, as the book The Stepparents' Parachute by Brit Flora McEvedy reinforces - get on with it.
Speaking of getting on with it . . . I have been obsessed with the Royal Baby. Don't know why exactly . . . A asked, "Are you more excited about the Royal Baby than you are about me?"
. . . I am rather, at the moment, but that will pass. I'll never have another baby, so I can live vicariously through it at this safe distance . . . and hope that George and his parents will be happy.
God save us all.
This has been an arduous year . . . the stepfamily taking up most of our time and energy and creating almost unbearable stress; however, they say the first year is the worst . . . the second marginally better, then things begin to settle down, if you survive.
I've been reading every stepparenting guide I can get my hands on. Two favourites are Stepmonster by Wednesday Martin and Surviving and Thriving in Stepfamily Relationships by Patricia Papernow.
The surprising thing that you learn after you marry a man with children, is that stepfamilies can never be like normal families. They are far more stressful and problematic than you might expect and there really is no easy way to blend. Good intentions get in the way. Low expectations and professional help are perhaps the best way through.
I thought marrying E would make life better . . . often, I wonder if that's true. I love being married to him, most of the time, but the stuff around that makes it hard to appreciate.
Anyway, as the book The Stepparents' Parachute by Brit Flora McEvedy reinforces - get on with it.
Speaking of getting on with it . . . I have been obsessed with the Royal Baby. Don't know why exactly . . . A asked, "Are you more excited about the Royal Baby than you are about me?"
. . . I am rather, at the moment, but that will pass. I'll never have another baby, so I can live vicariously through it at this safe distance . . . and hope that George and his parents will be happy.
God save us all.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Happy 40th to Me!
I'm lying. I have A in on the act. The other day in the car she turned to E and said,
"E, aren't you excited that mommy's going to be having her 40th Birthday?"
I was pleased. I'm not forty. I'm beyond forty, but I'm not telling how far. Far better to keep turning forty. E thought I'd prefer thirty-nine, but forty is the new thirty and I'm content with that.
E took me out to Les Fougeres for my birthday, which was lovely. I had a rich French meal, chicken stuffed with cheese with mushrooms and rasberries and beets, two glasses of Chardonnay, and lavender panna cotta, my first dessert in 2 months. (I have shed 20 pounds in an attempt to recover myself after having gained that much over the last 4 years with E). I felt great initially, then suffered one of the most painful and disorienting headaches I've ever had. (I worried I was having a stroke, my mother died of a stroke while dancing after a rich meal one New Year's Eve. I'm feeling my age . . or worried about my mortality . . . or something.)
Too much is going on . . . still. I keep hoping things will calm now, but they don't seem to. So an update for Sandwitch . . .
My life's pace has slowed considerably and I'm still trying to determine what it is I'm meant to do. Meanwhile, things in second-marriage-ville are complicated. E's teenage daughter is resentful and clingy, his son remains rude and wrathful, and his ex-wife just attempted suicide, which may explain the kids' problems, and seems more of a misguided scream for help than a desire to end her life. Still, it is awful and E's in denial and I'm beside myself with worry.
This came on the heels of a complicated month of court actions and revelations from my ex-files, but this is too much to explain. Suffice it to say . . . .he didn't stop with me . . . and it wasn't me . . . finally, I see that, which is, in itself, a relief, even it it means more suffering for someone else.
A also had a rough year to date . . . being bullied at school by a frenemy and losing interest in school as a whole as a result. I decided to have her switch schools, which was sad . . . but I am hoping it will help. The decision came on the heels of this frenemy's mom asking to talk to me and explaining that her daughter was feeling bad about herself because A cried all the time . . . WHAT? This spoiled little hellion was bugging my daughter and then felt bad and blamed her for crying. I was furious. These had been "family" friends. I listened and then decided talked to the teacher, and decided, based on my observations, A's history at the school, and her obvious disengagement, that A was not spending the next 6 years with the same 12 kids and teacher in this dysfunctional class dynamic. Blah.
Oh dear, E is home with kids in tow after a 3-day baseball tournament. Gotta run . . . and I'll recommit to more blogging, let's say daily blogging, as part of my 41st year resolutions.
"E, aren't you excited that mommy's going to be having her 40th Birthday?"
I was pleased. I'm not forty. I'm beyond forty, but I'm not telling how far. Far better to keep turning forty. E thought I'd prefer thirty-nine, but forty is the new thirty and I'm content with that.
E took me out to Les Fougeres for my birthday, which was lovely. I had a rich French meal, chicken stuffed with cheese with mushrooms and rasberries and beets, two glasses of Chardonnay, and lavender panna cotta, my first dessert in 2 months. (I have shed 20 pounds in an attempt to recover myself after having gained that much over the last 4 years with E). I felt great initially, then suffered one of the most painful and disorienting headaches I've ever had. (I worried I was having a stroke, my mother died of a stroke while dancing after a rich meal one New Year's Eve. I'm feeling my age . . or worried about my mortality . . . or something.)
Too much is going on . . . still. I keep hoping things will calm now, but they don't seem to. So an update for Sandwitch . . .
My life's pace has slowed considerably and I'm still trying to determine what it is I'm meant to do. Meanwhile, things in second-marriage-ville are complicated. E's teenage daughter is resentful and clingy, his son remains rude and wrathful, and his ex-wife just attempted suicide, which may explain the kids' problems, and seems more of a misguided scream for help than a desire to end her life. Still, it is awful and E's in denial and I'm beside myself with worry.
This came on the heels of a complicated month of court actions and revelations from my ex-files, but this is too much to explain. Suffice it to say . . . .he didn't stop with me . . . and it wasn't me . . . finally, I see that, which is, in itself, a relief, even it it means more suffering for someone else.
A also had a rough year to date . . . being bullied at school by a frenemy and losing interest in school as a whole as a result. I decided to have her switch schools, which was sad . . . but I am hoping it will help. The decision came on the heels of this frenemy's mom asking to talk to me and explaining that her daughter was feeling bad about herself because A cried all the time . . . WHAT? This spoiled little hellion was bugging my daughter and then felt bad and blamed her for crying. I was furious. These had been "family" friends. I listened and then decided talked to the teacher, and decided, based on my observations, A's history at the school, and her obvious disengagement, that A was not spending the next 6 years with the same 12 kids and teacher in this dysfunctional class dynamic. Blah.
Oh dear, E is home with kids in tow after a 3-day baseball tournament. Gotta run . . . and I'll recommit to more blogging, let's say daily blogging, as part of my 41st year resolutions.
Monday, February 11, 2013
2013
Okay, that last attempt to reinvent this blog as a platform for the rewrite of my apprentice novel didn't work, so I'm back to blogging as a ranter rather than a writer.
It is 2013, which amazes me, and February already, which is another surprise. I find myself slightly fuzzy around the edges these days as the process of reinvention begins.
The fall, if it wasn't obvious from posts here, was completely disorienting. I moved in with E and rented my house, started taking a technical program, and found it all almost unbearable. As of January, I'm going in a new direction, true to my roots and to myself, and it feels a lot better.
I'm going to start paying closer attention to how I feel. I can't seem to think my way through my fog, but my feelings are directing me.
I've reconciled myself to having an unconventional life. I will not mind living across the river from my husband, so long as we know it won't always be this way. I'm okay with having no expectations of the step family beyond courtesy and respect, because even that is a challenge. My career trajectory has done a 360 and that's okay, too. I'm rolling with everything and trying to enjoy it, even if I'm dizzy.
Welcome 2013.
It is 2013, which amazes me, and February already, which is another surprise. I find myself slightly fuzzy around the edges these days as the process of reinvention begins.
The fall, if it wasn't obvious from posts here, was completely disorienting. I moved in with E and rented my house, started taking a technical program, and found it all almost unbearable. As of January, I'm going in a new direction, true to my roots and to myself, and it feels a lot better.
I'm going to start paying closer attention to how I feel. I can't seem to think my way through my fog, but my feelings are directing me.
I've reconciled myself to having an unconventional life. I will not mind living across the river from my husband, so long as we know it won't always be this way. I'm okay with having no expectations of the step family beyond courtesy and respect, because even that is a challenge. My career trajectory has done a 360 and that's okay, too. I'm rolling with everything and trying to enjoy it, even if I'm dizzy.
Welcome 2013.
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