A couple of days ago was the perfect example.  I returned home from custody mediation with my ex with obviously red, puffy eyes.  I came inside my house and immediately went downstairs to my office - I didn’t want my preschool daughter to see my puffy face.  But once in the privacy of my office, I sat down and bawled.

But suddenly, the clock on my computer read lunchtime - I had to go pick up my boys from school for lunch.  I ran to the bathroom and dowsed my face in cold water.  “Get it together Delaine,”  I told myself.  “Find that happy face for the kids.”

And I did.  I greeted them at school with that extra big smile and extra happy voice I’ve perfected this past year in times like these; you know - the ‘mini-eruptions’ that make you want to curl up in ball and sob, or scream at the top of your lungs; not act like Mrs Brady.

There have been many times I’ve had to put on this facade for my children this past year.  And I always will because I want to shield them from upset; divorce crap is for the adults to wade through, not their kids.  

But I have to be honest - sometimes it takes every last ounce of my spirit to find the energy to do so.

Related Articles: 

I’m No MILF.  You’re the SMILF.

Should I Pursue Casual Sex More Regularly?

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

I was at home working yesterday with my phone rang - my husband’s number popped up.  Thinking it was my children, I quickly answered.

Instead it was my ex.  I braced to hear him tear into me about something.  Instead I heard, “We’ve had a bit of an accident.  We’re on our way to get stitches.”

“Who’s hurt?”  I asked heart racing.

“Janet.”  (my four-year-old daughter)  “She cut open her chin pretty bad, maybe three quarters of an inch wide.  It looks deep.  So I’m taking her to get stitches so she has less chance of scarring.”  He then went on to explain that had just arrived at an outdoor skating rink and Janet had no sooner stepped on the ice, that she did an immediate face-plant. The cut was UNDER her chin, thank God.   ”I didn’t see it happen,” my ex continued.  “I was putting on my skates.”

I asked to speak to my daughter who was in the backseat of the truck with her older brother.  “Guess what mom?”  she answered happily.  “I’m eating chips!  And having coke.  And daddy says after I see the doctor I can have a sucker!”

I grinned: She’s my candy monster.  I spoke to her for awhile, and my heart resumed its normal pace: the accident could have been much worse.

This incident showed me how important it is for divorcing couples to have a plan in case of emergencies; something my ex and I had never discussed.  Luckily, I had been home to provide him with her Health Number to see a doctor.  But that’s something that both parties should have on hand.  Both should also know where the closest clinics are, including after-hour clinics like the one my family had needed to visit last night.

Obviously, I’m more than relieved that our daughter is doing fine.  But I must admit, a part of me is glad this incident happened when she was with my ex - cause he had to learn first-hand how to cope in an emergency situation, like I’ve done countless times solo.  He had to leave his house full of guests to spend four hours waiting to see a doctor. He had to feel the fear, swallow her tears, make decisions, and step into a different area of fatherhood.

And maybe, just maybe, a part of him now realizes that parenting isn’t the easiest job in the world like he’s always said.

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

I was at a public swimming pool with my three kids, playing in the toddler section.  A great big bucket of water above us was almost full and teetering to tip.  My kids squealed and we all huddled in, arms entwined, heads down…till finally, the much-anticipated water crashed over our heads and backs.

Laughing, I scooted back on my bum and pushed my long drenched hair out of my face.   

And that’s when I met his eyes.

He was sitting about ten feet away on a shelf in deeper water, arms outstretched to his sides. Dark hair, muscular chest, maybe 40.   And he was staring.  Not looking, not laughing, but staring.

Our gaze broke when my four-year-old suddenly jumped on top of me.  I continued playing with her and laughing…and I could feel his eyes on me.  I looked over at him again - and yes, he wasn’t looking, he was staring. 

“Mom, can you get me a life-jacket so we can play in the deep water?”  My six year old asked.

I looked over at the life-jackets strung on hooks poolside.  Figures I wore my bikini today.    “Of course honey,” I replied, standing up in the shallow water.  I felt naked as I pulled myself out of the water.

Two minutes later, in another section of the pool, he suddenly appeared about five feet away from me.  Jesus, he’s following me!  Pretty brazen!  This time, when our eyes met, he smiled.  Holy shit he’s cute!  I smiled back and my stomach fluttered.  Then, How bad is this to be ‘picking up’ when I’m out for a family swim!!!  Off I went on flipper boards with my kids, thinking Yeah, I’m open to talking to this guy…

Over the next ten minutes, I found myself looking around to see where he was …and he was always close by and looking/smiling at me.  I also saw him playing with a little boy, maybe three-years-old.  Must be a divorced dad with weekend visitation, I thought.  I love watching men play with kids….

Then, a woman appeared. 

She stood at the side of the pool talking to him.  He handed her his son and pulled himself out of the water.  I watched them interact…how his demeanor changed, how he focused on her. 

 Shocked, I thought:   Holy f***.  This guy is married!

I shook my head in disgust and continued playing with my kids.  Still, I remained a bit bewildered; this guy had been sending me the vibe BIG TIME; unmistakably. And his wife had been in the same room the whole time!

I then thought back to when I married and all the times we’d gone public swimming with our children.  And I wondered how many women my ex had brazenly stared at when my back was  turned; you know - back when I thought we were sharing wonderful “family time.”

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

I feel like I’m going crazy; pushed and pulled in a hundred different directions.  I should have known today would be one of ’those days’ when at 6:30 a.m., the scream of one my boys getting hurt while wrestling launched me out of bed.

Work deadlines loom, my nanny called in sick, my kids’ schedule today is more demanding than most, kripes -  I have no groceries or plans for my preschool daughter, my Outlook Express is on the blitz, and somehow I have to manage, troubeshoot, and do it all alone with these two hands and a smile on my face.  

On days like this I wonder how I’m going to survive being a single parent and working mom.  I seriously wonder if I’ll be able to nurture my children into adulthood feeling loved, let alone help them reach their souls’ potential.  I wonder how I’m ever going to pay the non-stop bills around here, let alone ever achieve my dreams.  The mechanics of living and surviving are enough to fill my hours…

On any given regular school day, I feel like I’m barely keeping my balance.  Cause you see, my kids go to school right beside my house and I work from home.  I don’t pack them off for 8 hours a day and see them at 4 when the bus pulls up - no, they’re out the door 30 seconds before the bell rings, home at lunch (with friends), and home at 3:35 sharp.  And the expectations I have of myself to be a part of their every day, to give them ‘more,’ to help buffer the divorce, to make them feel like mom is still a stay-at-home mom who’s there for them 100% of the time, are greater than ever.

I know that my thoughts and feelings are setting up my day AND my life.  I believe in “The Secret”, that like energy attracts like energy,  and that I’m a radar attracting people, situations and events into my life depending on my state of being.  I also know I can choose to shift my thinking and become happier, more positive at any given moment so that I can change the course of this day…

But I’m overwhelmed.  I feel like crying.  And I find myself hating my ex just cause I want to blame someone for this, even if just for a minute, so I can feel sorry for myself.  And that self-pitying mindset just brings me down more cause I’m bigger than that.

I need to stop writing so I can tend to my List.

Other Articles:  I’m a Single Parent…A Feeling I’ve Always Known,   Survival Mode: Existing Post-Infidelity & Divorce

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

Don’t expect to be friends with your ex.  Not at the start anyways.  This is what I wish someone, or many people, had told me.

I’m not saying you should expect to be enemies; no, not at all.  I’m saying you should aim for something in the middle - like a ‘professional working relationship.’  It should be polite, somewhat distant, but functional.  No more, but no less.

“But why Delaine?”  You ask.  “Isn’t it in our best interest to be friends?  Isn’t it in the kids best interest?”

Because I’ve seen the same negative cycle repeat itself over and over again with me and my ex, AND other divorcing girlfriends:  We start getting along well with the exes, it feels good…we may go the ‘extra mile’ for them in some way like drive the kids somewhere far away to meet them, or invite them in for dinner…and then IT happens:  a mini-bomb, some kind of comment or event that hurts us, angers us, and leaves us spiralling for days, if not weeks. We all thought we were ‘moving forward’, that things were going so well, that we were ‘big enough’ to move beyond the enormity of the divorce crisis…

But we are human.  And we are grieving amidst a huge life transformation - ALL of us are, exes included. And even though it feels good to connect with our exes, even though it seems comfortable in some ways (though in some ways it’s also strange), the bottom line is our sensitivity levels are high, and people grieve in different ways.  Each person needs the time, space and consideration to grieve in his/her own way and if that isn’t offered, if time isn’t allotted to the recovery process, it’s a countdown till explosion.

I really wanted my ex and I to be friends at the beginning for the kids’ sake.  I wanted to ease the transition into their lives, as any good parent wants, of course.  But two things I MUST point out: first, it is very confusing for the kids to have dad at the dinner table one night, only to then have mom in tears for days and ignoring him the next time he comes by for ‘pick-up.’  It’s no good for the kids to have an unhappy mom, period.  And even though we do our best to hide our sadness and anger from them, little ears pick up on our phone conversations with girlfriends.  Little eyes see when we’re vacantly staring out the window with swollen eyes…. You get my point, I’m sure.

Secondly, in my opinion, young kids (which is what I and my friends all have) are less resistant to change than we give them credit for.  Many of the fears I had around the effects of divorce on my kids were just that: mine.  Yes, I had to work hard to ease the change, yes, I had to ’get in the know,’ read books, and always monitor their speech and action for signs of emotional damage.  But children respond to how WE ( us and our exes) are handling the crisis.  If tension, criticism, and anger abound, they feel it, even if they don’t see or hear it.  On the other hand, if they see mom and dad smiling at each other, talking politely, and acting ‘professionally,’ their world seems safer cause mom and dad are showing kindness and setting a good example of how life change can and should be handled.

So this is the #1 thing I wish someone had told me about the divorce process.  Am I a professional divorce coach or counsellor?  No.  Do you have to take my advice?  Not at all.  But I do believe women (and to some degree, men) learn from each other’s stories.   And if I were sitting having coffee with you, what you just read is what I’d have said to you as a friend; one warrior woman to another.

Other Articles:  Fairytale endings: Movies Are Programming My Daughter,  Cheating Spouse: REVENGE!,  I’m a Single Parent…A feeling I’ve always known

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

My 4-year-old daughter grabbed my cheeks and put her face up to mine.  I was about to give her a quick kiss when she ordered:” NO mom.  You turn your head that way.”  Her hands were still on my cheeks.  Shocked, I sat there wide-eyed as she planted a VERY long kiss on my lips.  Finally she pulled away and giggled: “You’re the princess, I’m the prince and since we kissed, we live happily ever after.”  And she skipped out of the room.

It was just child’s play, right?  Princess play is supposedly normal and condoned in girls.  Nonetheless, that episode six months left me feeling uneasy: Was it just imaginary play?  Or were beliefs being instilled in my daughter about love, men, and her ultimate goal in life?

I’ve since payed way more attention to the princess-themed movies she watches.  Undoubtedly, many of them contain wonderful themes around virtues such as kindness, trust, empathy and compassion.  But time and time and TIME AGAIN, the stories end with a kiss…with a man…with the dream of happily ever after.  As if falling in love with and marrying a man is the ‘final destination.’  And this past weekend, as my daughter and I watched the fairytale ending of the movie, Enchanted,  I looked over at her - and felt sick to my stomach.  Her eyes were all glassed over.  She was glowing.  And I thought, “Jesus, she’s really believing in all this!”

Perhaps you think I’m overreacting or I’m insinuating my skepticism in true love onto her because I’ve divorced.  And on some level, both statements might be true.  But part of my journey thus far this year has been to take a hard look at what ‘love’ means to me, where those beliefs came from, and whether they’ve truly served me or kept my head in the clouds.

Realistically, if an impressionable child repeatedly receives the same message about anything, she will start to believe it.  Or at least, identify it as something ‘important.’  Her tenderly young subconscious mind is wide open for programming, and feelings and experiences stick.

So I’ve decided to curtail the number of princess movies she watches.  Same with the princess books I read to her.  And just as I already tell my daughter EVERY DAY how incredible women’s body’s are, how lucky we are to have vaginas, and how our brains and hearts are just as important as our bodies, I’m getting real about ‘fairytale endings’ too.  It’s not that I don’t want her to believe in love - I would never deny her that.  But I told her just this morning, “You know honey, some people never even get married…”  And yesterday I said, “Love is a wonderful thing for two people to share.  But it doesn’t mean they’ll stay together forever and life will be perfect.”

Am I popping her bubble?  Destroying the bounty of a child’s heart-felt dreams?  I don’t think so.  I think it’s called reality.  And I’d rather be the one who deflates her bubble than a man.

Other Articles:  True Love…What is it - REALLY? ,  Internet Dating: 10 Expert Tips to Get You Started, Mmm…This Makes Me Shiver

Bookmark It

Hide Sites

I’m not sure why the memories came at me tonight. Perhaps it was the fresh fallen snow and smell in the air that triggered them; Xmas is coming after all. Perhaps it was because my ex moved last weekend to a small town outside Calgary; I know he will now spend even less time with the kids. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because I was tired from yet another weekend alone with my kids.

My ex worked out of town for all our marriage. He was absent about 70 - 80% of the year. Because of this, I gave up my just-taking-off career to be a stay-at-home mom to our three kids. And that is still my fulltime job, though I ALSO work fulltime as a writer.

Tonight on my porch, I looked around at my kids’ toboggans and boot prints covering my front lawn; and I smiled. My front lawn has looked like this for many winters. I drifted away in the memories - pulling all three of them in one toboggan, the times they peed in their snowsuits, their pink, rosy cheeks, the triumph each child exuded when he/she made it down the hill standing up on a board.

BUT…

I couldn’t remember ONE memory of my ex out there with us.

C’mon, I told myself, there MUST be a memory in there somewhere - dig deeper. But no - those were in the spring and fall. And no, those times he was putting them in the car (and he was scowling). Try as I did, my mind only remembered visions of me and kids.

I gave up trying and returned to the now. My brain was too tired to excavate. And in the big picture, I knew my efforts were pointless; what’s past is past. And now we’re divorced.

This will be my second winter as a divorced woman. And I’m still kind of scared and still kind of overwhelmed by the changes that have swept through my life. But I know one thing will remain the same this year as it always has: the feeling of being a single parent.

Other Articles: Fairytale endings:Movies Are Programming My Daughter,  Cheating Spouse:REVENGE!, Internet Dating:10 Expert Tips to Get You Started

Bookmark It

Hide Sites