My ex-husband and I have a rough history. I was 15 when we started dating, 17 when we (yeah, I said "we" because I strived to make him just as miserable as I was the entire 9 months and I think I did a pretty good job of it) got pregnant, 18 when we had our first son, and 19 when we got married. By the time I was 24 we had a total of 4 boys, a tubal ligation, and were separated. By the day ofter my 25th birthday we had our final divorce papers in hand. At the time I didn't think birthday gifts got any better than those papers. To say our marriage was unpleasant would be an understatement. I will just say for now that we were both very young, very immature, and one of us was resentful, mean, and took to drinking to off-set the unhappiness. I never regretted my decision to leave, and I still don't. I really think, and I believe he agrees, that divorcing was the best thing we did for our family. Not that we thought that immediately of course...
We both dated after our divorce. He found a girl who seemed OK with the kids, and I found a guy who I thought the same. Turns out we were both wrong. She cheated on him, ran around, basically broke his heart. Mine just showed me that he was all about me, but really couldn't stand any kids that weren't mini-adults. My children certainly never lived up to that, nor did I want them to. So they both got the boot. Eventually we both found the partners we ended up marrying. We found them around the same time, and never looked back. It was these two people who helped us make our family what it is today. I hear comments all the time about how I should hate my ex-husbands wife. I think these people are crazy. Why should I hate the person who will have such an important role in my children's lives? Who is that fair to? Certainly not them, and definatly not her. In fact I thank her. She helped my ex-husband and I slowly mend our relationship into the friendship it was before we ever got married. She helped us see that the only important thing was our children. Can't divorce them, even though some days I really wish you could. Really.
Anyway, the point of this long ramble was to say that it was slow going, but we have slowly developed a family of eight. That's four kids, and four parents. I still feel we as the parents are out numbered, but we manage. We have family dinner night at least one Sunday a month, taking turns at each others homes. We help with projects at each others homes, and we do joint birthday parties for our kids. Heck, we even take a couple vacations a year together. The kids have never been happier, and I can honestly say I call my ex-husband, and his new wife our friends. I know they feel the same about us. In fact when I finally got married (once burned, extremely shy there for me) about a year after my ex did, I sent a text message to him "well, I am married now". He knew were were getting married, and wanted to come, but we eloped. He immediately called and said that message made him tear up and he was so happy for him. He asked to talk to my new husband to congratulate him. As I handed Hubby the phone, I could hear my ex yell "Sucker!". It warmed my heart. Nothing is better than having a "village" of people to love your children. We are truly a blessed family.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Anything but the Hanson's
We just found out that J13 has a solo in his first Jazz band concert. This is a huge deal. He of course is nervous, and so are we. I know he will do great though, as he always does...
N10 decided he also wanted to start an instrument this year. Now, N10 isn't your average kid. He is, to say it in the nicest way, the youngest eccentric I have ever met.
ec·cen·tric [ik-sen-trik, ek-] –adjective
1. deviating from the recognized or customary character, practice, etc.; irregular; erratic; peculiar; odd: eccentric conduct; an eccentric person.
2. a person who has an unusual, peculiar, or odd personality, set of beliefs, or behavior pattern.
In other words, this is my son. Even with with 3 brothers, he most often preferes to play alone. On the playground at school, while you see most kids in groups playing on the monkey bars, or kicking a ball around, my son is sitting alone, digging in dirt. He is oblivious to his lack of social skills, and quite possibly the happiest child I know. He exudes confidence. But back to the topic at hand. N10 wants to play an instrument. It of course can't be a simple instrument like J10, who plays a saxaphone. No, N10 will choose his instrument the way he choses everything in life, by deciding he needs the largest, and most obnoxious instrument he can think of. N10 wants to play the sousaphone. It is larger than N10, by far. Unfortunatly for him, it is a marching band instrument, and in 5th grade that makes it not an option. So in the end N10 has choosen the Cello. Not quite bigger than him, but almost. I guess it could be worse...M8 is already asking for a drum set....
Our Jazz Band musician in his finest
N10 with his best friend, Sand.
N10 decided he also wanted to start an instrument this year. Now, N10 isn't your average kid. He is, to say it in the nicest way, the youngest eccentric I have ever met.
ec·cen·tric [ik-sen-trik, ek-] –adjective
1. deviating from the recognized or customary character, practice, etc.; irregular; erratic; peculiar; odd: eccentric conduct; an eccentric person.
2. a person who has an unusual, peculiar, or odd personality, set of beliefs, or behavior pattern.
In other words, this is my son. Even with with 3 brothers, he most often preferes to play alone. On the playground at school, while you see most kids in groups playing on the monkey bars, or kicking a ball around, my son is sitting alone, digging in dirt. He is oblivious to his lack of social skills, and quite possibly the happiest child I know. He exudes confidence. But back to the topic at hand. N10 wants to play an instrument. It of course can't be a simple instrument like J10, who plays a saxaphone. No, N10 will choose his instrument the way he choses everything in life, by deciding he needs the largest, and most obnoxious instrument he can think of. N10 wants to play the sousaphone. It is larger than N10, by far. Unfortunatly for him, it is a marching band instrument, and in 5th grade that makes it not an option. So in the end N10 has choosen the Cello. Not quite bigger than him, but almost. I guess it could be worse...M8 is already asking for a drum set....
Our Jazz Band musician in his finest
N10 with his best friend, Sand.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Damn HGTV
It started with a catalog. Ikea. Evil evil place. The blinds on our arcadia doors to the patio are pretty shabby in their old age. Four kids constantly in and out doesn't help. So I decided that we should just hang some drapes instead. At least those I could wash right? So off we go to Ikea. You know, I never did see the drapes...If you have never been to Ikea it's quite the shopping experience. Hundreds of rooms set up. It's like walking through one giant mismatched house with no doors and more kitchens than you can't count. But oh what I wouldn't give to have that many bathrooms in my house! Ok, maybe not, I'm sure I would end up being the one to have to clean them all. So suddenly there we are staring at the coffee tables. We didn't have one currently because the I kept hitting my toes on the last one and got peeved enough one day to just throw it out. I really like my toes, and being able to get shoes around them. I have enjoyed the lack of legs to jam my toes on ever since. But life with 4 kids is starting to demand a larger area for board games. So when we found a rather large 2 level coffee table my dreams of uninjured toes was dashed. Of course this lead to the plotting of replacing more furniture. By the end of our walk we have picked out an entire new living room arrangement and dining room. I guess it's about time anyhow, I have had most of my stuff for over 5 years. I was pretty excited about redoing everything, though we only left with the coffee table that day. Since we have a roommate who is moving in January to her own place, she is the perfect person to pass on the old stuff too. But she has no where to store it in the meantime, so the plot just has to simmer for awhile...
Once we got home Hubby assembled the new coffee table. We put our feet up on it, flicked on the TV and life was good. Until HGTV came on. Design on a Dime. People with any sort of decorating bug should not be allowed to watch this show. My hubby and I are two such people. They were redoing a kitchen and put a couple stripes of paint up towards the ceiling. Cute. Can you say cute? I loved it. I batted my eyes at the hubby and begged for stripes of my very own. Not that begging was needed. I had painted my kitchen two shades of mossy greens when I first bought the place. It flows into the living room which I sponge painted in neutral beige and creams. I loved it. But a stripe, well a stripe or two would surely tie the living room with the dining room/kitchen wouldn't it? Of course it would! I still had all my left over paint so off to Home Depot for magic tape and paint brushes. I was giddy with excitement. We got home and Hubby said he could whip out his trusty level and pencil in my stripes for painting. Great! He penciled, I taped, then he painted. I was so excited! Then I ripped the tape off. My beautiful stripe that Hubby meticulously measured was crooked. Not only that, but it was about 4 inches wide at one end, and about 2.5 inches wide at the other end. This of course was not hubby's fault, but some conspiracy with the level and wall out to get Hubby. It took me two days to fix that stripe, with a tape measure and lots of patience I measured every inch of the stripe as I re-taped it. Then it happened. Not happy with just throwing a little fresh paint on the wall, no no no, not my hubby. Now he wants to do an accent wall in our living room. The outer wall of the stairs to the third floor. So I break out my tape again. One wall, I can handle it. At least he didn't chose the part of the wall that vaults up to the third floor...right? But of course painting for Hubby is a sickness. Once he starts, he wants new paint everywhere. So we ended up painting the fireplace wall and mantle. We were at that until one A.M. because of course Hubby couldn't wait until the next day now that he had his plan in motion. There were a few words exchange, some tears, threats of violence, but in the end, when it was all done, I have to say it looks great. It will certainly look even better when we get all that new furniture in. We decided to watch a little TV to wind down, but this time I put on a cooking show, because neither of us is ever rushing out to cook a meal anytime soon, and stubbed my toe on the way to the couch. Life is good.
Once we got home Hubby assembled the new coffee table. We put our feet up on it, flicked on the TV and life was good. Until HGTV came on. Design on a Dime. People with any sort of decorating bug should not be allowed to watch this show. My hubby and I are two such people. They were redoing a kitchen and put a couple stripes of paint up towards the ceiling. Cute. Can you say cute? I loved it. I batted my eyes at the hubby and begged for stripes of my very own. Not that begging was needed. I had painted my kitchen two shades of mossy greens when I first bought the place. It flows into the living room which I sponge painted in neutral beige and creams. I loved it. But a stripe, well a stripe or two would surely tie the living room with the dining room/kitchen wouldn't it? Of course it would! I still had all my left over paint so off to Home Depot for magic tape and paint brushes. I was giddy with excitement. We got home and Hubby said he could whip out his trusty level and pencil in my stripes for painting. Great! He penciled, I taped, then he painted. I was so excited! Then I ripped the tape off. My beautiful stripe that Hubby meticulously measured was crooked. Not only that, but it was about 4 inches wide at one end, and about 2.5 inches wide at the other end. This of course was not hubby's fault, but some conspiracy with the level and wall out to get Hubby. It took me two days to fix that stripe, with a tape measure and lots of patience I measured every inch of the stripe as I re-taped it. Then it happened. Not happy with just throwing a little fresh paint on the wall, no no no, not my hubby. Now he wants to do an accent wall in our living room. The outer wall of the stairs to the third floor. So I break out my tape again. One wall, I can handle it. At least he didn't chose the part of the wall that vaults up to the third floor...right? But of course painting for Hubby is a sickness. Once he starts, he wants new paint everywhere. So we ended up painting the fireplace wall and mantle. We were at that until one A.M. because of course Hubby couldn't wait until the next day now that he had his plan in motion. There were a few words exchange, some tears, threats of violence, but in the end, when it was all done, I have to say it looks great. It will certainly look even better when we get all that new furniture in. We decided to watch a little TV to wind down, but this time I put on a cooking show, because neither of us is ever rushing out to cook a meal anytime soon, and stubbed my toe on the way to the couch. Life is good.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
I can't believe I'm 31
Well actually, I turned 31 in March. Call in denial. 31. It makes 30 seem so...young. 31 was the benchmark. I was going to have my whole life in order by 30. Which has come and gone, with no order in sight...
In all fairness in those 30 years I have done a lot of things. I have been married and divorced, had 4 boys, (not all after the marriage, but all before the divorce, and with the same man.), started several new careers, (still trying to find the hat that fits me), and kept myself in denial about some health issues. (Really...It doesn't go away just because you chose to ignore it).
Since turning 31 I have rounded out a few more things. I recently (Yay July 19th) remarried. To the most wonderful man who I complan about a lot but love even more. Really, I am lucky he puts up with me. He is a great husband and I couldn't ask for a better Step-dad for 4, (gulp) boys. For now I will just call the boys J13, N10, N9, and M8. First initials, and their ages. Yep, I was one busy baby machine for awhile there in the 90's. For those of you doing the math, I had my first son at 18, right out of high school. By 19 I was married, by 25 I was divorced. Which was one of the best things to happen for our relationship, but more on that later.
Anyway, to make a long story short, I usually keep a journal, however, knowing it is not the safest medium in a houseful of males, and I speak from recent experience, I have decided to move it out to a place none of them are likely to find, anytime soon.
In all fairness in those 30 years I have done a lot of things. I have been married and divorced, had 4 boys, (not all after the marriage, but all before the divorce, and with the same man.), started several new careers, (still trying to find the hat that fits me), and kept myself in denial about some health issues. (Really...It doesn't go away just because you chose to ignore it).
Since turning 31 I have rounded out a few more things. I recently (Yay July 19th) remarried. To the most wonderful man who I complan about a lot but love even more. Really, I am lucky he puts up with me. He is a great husband and I couldn't ask for a better Step-dad for 4, (gulp) boys. For now I will just call the boys J13, N10, N9, and M8. First initials, and their ages. Yep, I was one busy baby machine for awhile there in the 90's. For those of you doing the math, I had my first son at 18, right out of high school. By 19 I was married, by 25 I was divorced. Which was one of the best things to happen for our relationship, but more on that later.
Anyway, to make a long story short, I usually keep a journal, however, knowing it is not the safest medium in a houseful of males, and I speak from recent experience, I have decided to move it out to a place none of them are likely to find, anytime soon.
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