Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Dogfaced

I was at Walmart today, a place that makes me want to stab people in the throat on a good day, and I happened upon a pair of women with about eleven children between them.

One turns to the other and says "I'm just so worried about feeding Gavin formula, but I can't keep nursing! Every time I hear a dog bark my milk let's down."

Then the other one says "Oh, I have that problem when I hear fire engines".

Seriously.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Choice

So, as it turns out I'm not dead and I didn't lock all you kids out because we're having some sort of secret meeting and eating cupcakes and riding unicorns and everyone but you is invited. We were eating pudding and riding hedgehogs, which sounds fun, but I assure you is very pokey about the lady parts.

Probably right about now you're picturing Lady Gaga in her non-meat dress riding a hedgehog and singing about her pokey place. No? Well you are NOW. So HA! I win.

Am I trying to deflect from where I really went and what really happened? Maaaaybe.

The thing about where I went and what happened is, well, it's complicated. And sticky. And smells a little like an old meat-dress.

For starters, my husband found this blog. Let's all wave to J now. I want to take the time to point out that he didn't ask me to take down any posts, let alone the whole blog. I did take down some posts from earlier this year. Not in favor of censorship but in the spirit of saying "what I said, while true, was mean". And we all know that being mean doesn't solve anything. Being mean gives you wrinkles and saggy boobs and no one wants more of either of that.

Things with the divorce are moving slowly, but amicably. I know, right? Did you guys even know that could be done? See, here's the thing. All that anger? It isn't productive. It makes you sick and it makes you mean. And even when it's justified, it's just...well...icky. All that anger feels like a vice. You can't go backwards, because what's done is done and you can't go forwards because you don't want to. You're mired down in the swamp of "but I'm RIGHT" and you don't see that it doesn't matter.

Sure, what happened matters. It hurt. It made me angry. It made me turn into someone that is the very thing that I didn't want to be. Mean. I don't know how many times I've said that nice matters only to turn around and be anything but nice.

No, it doesn't excuse what went on. It doesn't mean that I wasn't justified or right and it doesn't mean that what I said was invalid.

What does it mean? It means that I, right now, am choosing to go forward without anger.

I'm choosing to believe that being divorced doesn't mean you need to destroy yourself or the other person just because that's "how everyone else" does it.

I'm choosing to let go of the things that happened in the past that kept me from being nice.

I'm choosing to go on with life.

It isn't going to be easy. There are still things that make my heart hurt. There are things that I have said or not said, or wanted to say or wish I hadn't, things I've done or not done. There are things. Of course there are. There are any number of things. Infinite things. But above all there is one thing. Choice.

I'm choosing happy.