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A new lesson

For the last few months, I've been casually doing online dating. Casually because I reject about 97 percent of the matches and I check in like once a week. Before Saturday, I'd had three dates with two guys. The first one I never heard from again. Not a problem—the meeting felt exactly like that...a meeting. The second one texts me now and then, usually using Lost as the excuse. (Who knows on what pretense he'll write now!) However, he blew

Glimpse of the future?

The last two months have been tough: We went through mediation. I took off my rings. The weekends have been literally nonstop with work, play, and obligation. So when we decided to take Friday night to discuss the last few things for the lawyer along with Miss Monkey's summer schedule, I immediately wanted to take it back. I just didn't have the energy. But then the weirdest thing happened: We actually had an ok time. Better than ok. We were both starving, so we ordered our usual from the local Chinese place. We ate on the floor in front of the TV like we always did with orange chicken and dumplings, and Miss Monkey sidled up between us and begged to try each and every food. Seriously, she's a pretty good trier-of-new-things, but she was so happy to be having a dinner picnic with Mommy AND Daddy that I think she might have eaten brussels sprouts topped with sardines if we placed them in front of her.

As always...

...your notes and your hugs and your energy simply take my breath away. When I need to remind myself that I'm not really alone, I re-read your posts and take them in like so much sustenance. Because even though my life is full of loving and concerned and outraged friends, and of course, my beautiful daughter, I've never felt so lonely. I'm not sure yet, but I think I might be the only person who can fill that void. Does that make any sense?

The final meditation

We're done. We had our third and final session with the mediators yesterday, and except for a few tiny loose ends like sending in 401k statements and insurance info, the settlement will be drawn up in a couple of weeks. I assume we'll file with the court shortly thereafter. If all goes quickly, we'll be officially divorced before our 9th anniversary.

Meditation on Mediation #2

I've returned from another trip to the underground. The last couple of weeks have been heavy, and slow, and very, very cloudy. I've had two two-hour meetings with a pair of strangers whose entire job is to help us dismantle our lives. They've been wonderful, but awfully efficient. One more meeting, and not even a whole one at that, and the details will be complete. Then all that will be left is formality of filing. Our daughter's birthday in coming up in about a week, and all I can think about is how much fun we had planning her party last year at a local farm. I never imagined that this is where I'd be just a year later. 

Meditation on Mediation

Last week we had a meet-and-greet with a potential mediator, and decided on the spot to work with him and his partner (he's a therapist, she's a lawyer). He was warm and kind and gentle. He'll be a wonderful shepherd, I think, through the path of destruction we're about to walk. I thought I'd feel calmer after getting through that meeting, knowing that we'd taken the first step, that it was actually happening. But no. The little tornado behind my heart swirled up and up.

3 happy things

egg tree

 

So we met with the mediator last night, and I'm still processing. I figured I'd indulge in some distraction and focus on the good:

Making it official

Just a quick note in the hopes that typing it out will make my mind stop and my stomach settle: We're having our first consultation with a mediator on Wednesday night. I'd left all the arrangements to my husband (this was certainly not going to be something that I facilitated), and it took him nearly three months to follow through. I knew, I KNOW, it was just procrastination nothing more. And yet when he told me about the appointment, I had to sit down. I really thought I had let go of my last drops of hope. In fact, I'd counted on it. Damn.

Preschool Conference of Doom

Alright, I'm being a little dramatic, but that's how I feel. If you've been reading for a while, you might remember my glee after our fall conference: "She's such a happy, happy child," the teacher said. "Her laugh is infectious," she said. "I had no idea you were having trouble at home. You must be doing something right," she said. (Or something pretty close.) The relief we both felt was palpable. She's going to be ok, we thought. 

Can't. Keep. Up.

For the last few months, I've generally been proud of myself for at least treading water and getting most of the things done that need to get done. The last few weeks, I've started to slip and it's STRESSING ME OUT. As in, I missed like three bill payments stress (I NEVER miss). As in, I'm losing track of what I have to do and when stress. As in, I wake up at 4 a.m. and worry that I forgot to send an email or return a call or get a price for Miss Monkey's birthday stress. Compounding the chaos: I had my review this week. Which was wonderful. Glowing.

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