Vindauga

Homemaker

I am home. Not by choice, but home never the less. One of the ways I try to fill my days is to be a homemaker. Sometimes that means, however rarely, that I clean. Other times that can be defined by cooking. I get enthused a couple of times a week and actually come up with a meal plan. More often than not, it means I will do laundry and look at decorating websites and blogs. Literally a homemaker is what I’ve become. I used to love to look at real estate, but that is hopeless as an unemployed person. Only slightly less hopeless is to look at decorating and trying to figure out how I will transform the space I live in to something classic with quirks, or down to earth glam, or eclectic with a traditional twist, sometimes modern with bumper corners to soften the edge, sophisticated with a sense of humor. It seems that while I try to figure out who the hell am I professionally, I also struggle with what’s my personal style. I look at couches and pillows and art and drool thinking how that particular piece found in a consignment store for just the right price would complete my home, and therefore my life. I look at lovely large bursting works of art and think my talented children- artists themselves- should be able to recreate those pieces as demonstration of their gratitude for creating them. Yet still I here I sit, home. My walls and me are temporarily stuck in the aspirational stage.

Ring Around My Finger

There literally is a ring around my finger. Actually two rings. Okay, scars in the shape of rings. The lighter one, more faded less noticeable, is from my engagement ring. It was on and off my finger over the years. Sometimes it was being sized up or down, once it lost a stone. I took it off last summer for good. It was my way of mentally making my private separation public, if only to me. Only my kids noticed it. I told them with my weight loss it was getting too big and I didn't want to lose it. Which was true. Kinda. I kept my very small, thin gold wedding band on. I hadn't ever had it off since 1987 and it seemed too weird. No one noticed it anyway.

Then in September, stuck in traffic, I was fidgeting with it. I took it off. I immediately noticed the indentation. I took the ring and put it in the ashtray of my car. I drove on. I met friends for happy hour. No one noticed. I kept absentmindly playing with my non-existant ring.  No one noticed it was missing. I pointed it out to Rosemary on visit. She asked me what it meant. I told her that when we finally could seperate I didn't want a mark on my finger like I was a guy cheating at the Notell Motel on a Thursday afternoon. I expected the scar would fade quickly.

It hasn't.

For awhile, I put cream on it from a sample I got at Sephora. Something that was supposed to fade dark spots and wrinkles. I was dedicated about it every night for at least a month and saw no change or improvement. I resented it. How the hell was I going to start a new life with this scarlet "r" encircling left hand ?

Now that I'm actually single, it's just there. It doesn't bother me as much. I don't really know what it says  about me. I guess that I was once married. It probably says I was married for a long enough time to live a physical mark on my body.

It may never go away.

It may one day be covered by another ring.

 

Changes

I am sitting in my way too comfortable bed listening to my crazy little purse dog chew the pine sap off his paws. It's an exciting Friday night, isn't it?

There has been a lot going on in my life, lots of additions and subtractions. Dino, the aforementioned purse dog is one of the additions. So are the two giant pine trees he likes to spend hours under, hoping a squirrel will make a wrong move and come tumbling down into his tiny little jaws. Dino weighs 5.5 lbs. he is a rescue dog I impulsively got three days before Christmas. I adore him. He is a total pain in the ass. He's my favorite mistake. Daisy loves him and is probably the happiest dog on the planet to have him as a companion.

I've moved to a wonderful little 1960 ranch house. It has a too big yard with giant pine trees. Tonight I heard someone mowing a lawn a house or two away. It struck fear in my heart. For the first time ever, I will be in charge of mowing lawns.  I'm in charge now because I am single.

Two years ago B and I started contemplating divorce. Over the last two years it's become more and more apparent that neither of us were happy.  At the beginning of February our landlord told us some changes with our rental, and we realized we would have to get a new house. We took this opportunity to instead look for two new houses. One for B, and one for the kids and me.

It's been scary, it's been sad, it's been tense. However, I can tell you that we both feel better than we've felt in years. We now get along better than we have in a decade. We are better parents, friends and people. I honestly feel happy. The kids behavior is better. They seem happier. We constantly give them opportunities to talk and they seem pretty okay in such a short time. B sees the kids nearly daily. He's got an apartment 5 minutes from work, and the kids have spent a couple of nights there.

The other huge change is that Mallory moved into her own apartment with someone she has been seeing for over a year. She's very happy. He's a nice kid. He loves her. He respects her and treats her well.

Oh, yeah and the weight thing. I've lost 70 lbs. B lost 55 lbs. I honestly feel like I've found the secret for me. I avoid simple carbs. I don't eat processed food. I keep moving- not much intentional excercise (I do yoga once a week),- but I just move. I  spend little time on the couch. I'm kinda stunned it's so easy.

This is not the life I imagined, but this is a good life.

Mallory and her Moms

This is the three of us, heading into our 21st year together.  Openess has worked and been the best thing for our relationship in the adoption. I can't imagine not being able to turn to this other mother  to share in the joys, sorrows and worries of my child. She is such a part of who Mallory is and my parenting. She gets things that often even Bert doesn't. She gets this kid because she knows her from deep down inside. 

We all got together last night with Mallory's boyfriend, Noelle's family and Mallory's paternal grandma. It was a great, joyous visit. One we don't get very often because of the many miles between all of us. I'm so grateful to have Mallory surrounded by all this love.

Don't be scared of openess. It can be complicated sometimes, but sometimes it's as easy as pie.  Last night was one of those nights. We were every bit as happy as we look.

Growth Experience

I'm kind of driving myself crazy today. There is a lot I should be doing, some things I could be doing, and yet what am I doing? Nada. Bubble spinner. True Blood. Lusting after guys less than half my age on the Olympics.

We took Rory to college on Thursday. She has chosen to rush to get into a sorority. Like everything in her life, she has researched the process and the sororities carefully. She has three she'd really like and two others who still sound interesting to her. She's got a good attitude and is mostly concerned with getting in any sorority. This is new territory for our family. We're not exactly the Greek system types.  However, Greek life is really popular at her university, and surprisingly the sorority houses are nicer and cheaper to live in than the dorm. We'll see. This is likely my fault from letting her watch Legally Blonde as a girl and going too far with the preppy dress during the formative years. (She looks great in khaki and pearls, what can I say?)

As part of her recruitment, her phone was taken away for the first five days. They say it's so the girls make decisions about what sororities they are interested in free of outside influence. It's also a good way to deal with homesickness of girls who are leaving home for the first time. I hate it kind of, but understand it. When Mal went away she couldn't talk to us for a week because it made her so sad. It's amazing how a teenager that can't "wait to go to college" is unprepared for the fact that she loves her famiy until she realizes she won't see them on a daily basis. Growth experiences and all that.

Mal is hoping to study abroad next year, Spain in the fall and France in the spring. Talk about a growth experience. I'd appreciate tips and ideas from any of you that have done this or had kids that have.

The eating? It's still going according to plan. I've lost 40 lbs, Bert has lost 50 lbs. We both feel healthier and happier. We fall off the wagon here and there, but there isn't that panic that I'm doomed when I do. I know what to do if I have a couple of pancakes, or a bun or serving of potatoes. All is not lost, I just am conscious of enjoying it (or noticing that I don't really care and throw it away). Then after that's done, I just go back to eating right for me. A week is not lost, or even a day.  This is the way I plan to be for the rest of my life. I'd like to lose anywhere from 8 to 33 lbs, depending on where my body finds homeostatis. I know it's easier to fight the body's starvation response at a place it's happy, so that's where I'll try to stay.

I bought a Fitbit for Mother's Day and have found I'm really motivated by data. My goal is to walk 35 miles a week, with a minimum of 25. The most I've ever done is 50. I really like inclines and stairs and am really glad that I'm no longer wasted when faced with stairs (even a lot of them). I always park on the top floor now and avoid the elevator. I'm not perfect, the hill at the top of my street still is a challenge, though not like it used to be.

I am no essentially a parenting mother of two. It feels lonely somewhat. Your kids are the best just when they're ready to move out. Life is less stressful with fewer people. I no longer think four is too many, but that's just because I only have two to really deal with on a daily basis.

Look, melancholia leads to writing!