Taking the high road each day. Today is not one of them.
By The Sisters Hood on August 03, 2014
Today is a good day, a Sunday is a good day to take stock of all that is good and all that I am blessed with. But yesterday was not that kind of day. And because I am human after all, and not all is rainbows and unicorns, not by far - I wrote about how I felt. You know the saying 'if mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy ...' Add a couple of kids in here too since the girls declaring this to have been the worst Summer ever has not done much to lift my spirits. Paperwork, house showings, open houses, even their precious dog Ella passed ... not exactly a teens dream of a Summer vacation, that one I had promised them once the 'deed' was done. Sigh. It has been a couple of days of feeling very under the weather, and this brings a touch of grouchiness, a tad of grumpy and a little woe is me. This is a heads up. A warning of sorts because if you stopped in today for a some uplifting inspiration, I apologise in advance. I should simply wave you along with a not today folks because today is just not that kind of day. I really do like to hold onto these words. Live these words. Act on these words ... But sometimes taking the high road is nothing but tedious. Hard work, too much effort. I want so much to be always be the good girl. Handle life with grace and dignity. Hold onto a little class. Be an example for my girls, especially when I reprimand them for the use of the monikers, Richard, Dick or The Sperm Donor, the Skank, only to be admonished with ... stop being a cheerleader. They also have very strong opinions now that they are growing up - especially of lawyers of late. For that I cannot blame them with the many hours that have been spent putting together the emails and facts to present to a judge showing just how at fault this lawyer is. My girls have amused themselves greatly with finding bad lawyer jokes. I just love them. The girls that is. Sigh. They are not babies. And really, one cannot help but chuckle just a little at the words from the mouths of not such small babes since they are older and wiser and tend to call it how they see it. Even if every now and again it makes me cringe. But then there are moments where I cannot help myself, I just want to get down and dirty and honest. The dark and sometimes angry thoughts that usually remain in my thought bubble that travels around above my head in its neat little black cloud just simply escape. There is no holding them back ... usually they are shared with my very dear friend Kelly with whom I truly cannot imagine my life, since we have a pact to keep our thought bubbles close. We share with each other daily while we snicker just a little, yes, a little. Like today, where she called because she could hear the melancholy through the words I was typing on The Crackbook and was checking in with me ... I shared with her that while I try my very best to rise above it all, there are times I simply wish that there was a head on collision. You know, two cars, one containing my ex and one containing my ex lawyer. In fact, there could just be one car and a wall. I don't care if they are emerging from hot and heavy s*x just as long as the outcome is the demise of them both. See, not so much grace in these words. I did warn you. You may be regretting those lovely comments you have previously left behind telling me of my virtue and complimenting my handling of an awful situation because this just happens to be a day where I throw caution to the wind and just say ... ugh. Ugh to the lawyer who not only did not fight for me, but is now fighting against me. No longer my lawyer, but billing me for reading my objections or for resetting the hearing they made without my input ... which is required. By law. An interesting angle in family law where surely one depends on word of mouth and we know many in the same circles. Ugh to the ex who has yet to inquire on the wellbeing of the two children he once doted on. Our only communication by email with him reverting any question back to the agreement as though it were written in stone like The Ten Commandments. Ugh to those who feel the need to leave me a private message on The Crackbook telling me to simply move on already and their concerns when my updates went from the uplifting to the one late night dance on his grave category. Altho in this case, it did spawn a hashtag of #wishfulwidow of which I have become rather fond. You have not walked in my shoes. You have not held my children as they sob great heaving sobs that shake their bodies and leave them breathless. You are not part of this upheaval of endless house showings from a home they were promised they would not leave. You are not clued in to health concerns or the costs involved. You do not know what it was like to sit across from a lawyer retained to protect your little family but spoke to you in a condescending manner at every opportunity. Ironically twenty years to the day of our arrival in America to begin our new life together, it was signed and sealed by a judge to be a thing of the past, filed away, case closed. Instead of picking myself up and dusting myself off, ready to figure out this new path, I get to live it day after day poring through the emails and the huge unending file, go over wording and discrepancies so that I can now protect my family against the one sworn to protect us ... more irony. So forgive me while I wallow a little in the injustices of life. This little pity party for myself and my girls who deserve to have their Mom and her undivided attention after all they have weathered. They redecorated their rooms to make way for a new life, only to discover it needs to be packed up and moved to a destination as yet unknown. You do not know, so do not judge. Fortunately as with every road, eventually one has to reach a fork. This road has been a long journey and still we put one foot in front of the other ... heading forward to where - I am still uncertain. But heading forward it is, and if a day of ranting at the unfairness of it all seems a little more like treading water ... I will work on that heading forward thing again tomorrow. I am actually in a good place, ready for a new beginning in a home to call our own, ready to write, ready to grow ... perhaps, even ready to date ... but for the love of God, can we lose the drama and the angst - I promise to never ask the universe what else can go wrong, since the universe keeps on rising to the challenge! Excuse me now, I have a hill to climb. The high road beckons once more. With hugs and kisses always, Nicole.
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