You Can't Always Get What You Want ...

but as the Rolling Stones go on to point out, its often more important to figure out whether you are getting what you need.  Today - I'm not doing too well on either front.  I'm dog tired.  Worked all day boxing things up to move into storage or be donated here and there.  Still have a LOT of work to do, and the guy from the Salvation Army will be here tomorrow morning bright and early to pick up furniture, some of which remains to be emptied and gotten ready to go. 

Had a ... spat? with my best friend this afternoon over ... well it was meant as a kindness.  My friend, understandably concerned about me, texted: "Make sure you don't lift the dish crate by yourself."  And me, frustrated, tired, and sore and with no help in sight, snapped back in a peevish petty sort of way that since I'm the only one doing this thing, if I don't lift it, it ain't gonna get done. 

I hate when I lose my sense of proportion and connection.  I know it was meant as an expression of concern for my back.  And the concern is justified.  (I kind of toned down my response for this blog in order to not have to remember just how irritable I was.) 

I'm tired of working myself to the point of being so tired that I cry. 

But I talked to the boys tonight.  They are having a good visit with their dad.  (No more Tuckerisms to report at present)  and that made me feel somewhat better.  The whole point of this move is to have a nicer home for them.  So I'm taking a deep breath and getting back into the fray. 

Tomorrow

I hate moving. 

Tales from the Other Side

Tucker:  Hey Dad, What time is lunch?

Dad:  Noon

T: What time is it now?

D: 5:30 am.

T: So that's what like six more hours?!?

Silence

T: Hey, Dad.  Just to let you know, it's 7:15 now.

T: Hey Dad.  My watch says 8:48.

*****

11:45 a.m.  Dad serves lunch

T: Well, I guess it's okay, but my lunch alarm didn't go off yet.

*****************

I had a fabulous conversation with Tucker earlier today.  He called the cat for me, "Here, kitty kitty kitty kitty ..."  I asked him whether that worked and he said, "No, it makes the cat run away, but I wanted you to know I'm trying to get him here for you."  He finally cornered the cat and then held the phone to the cat's head so I could hear him purr while Tucker stroked his back. 

Turns out that Tucker really likes the cat, but there's a problem with his language.  See he has this book "Pussycat's Christmas" and so from that book he says ... pussy cat.  Well, he's now saying pussy for short.  So he was explaining that a healthy hamster has a dry nose and he thinks the same may be true for the pussy.  Dry pussy is good and wet pussy is bad.   

I thought I was going to choke.  Yep, it's good he's at his dad's now. 

"My First Mom"

I talked with the boys this morning.  They had a nice visit with their grandparents, their dad and dad's fiancee in Florida, and now the show is back on the road to St. Louis where Dad lives.  They called me from the airport.  Tucker had a moment when his dad was off at the ticket counter handling something, so he seized his opportunity and asked me, "Mom, did you know that my dad is getting married again?"

I assured him that I knew and that I was okay.  (Really, by this point I'm mostly okay with it.)

Then Tim came back to the phone.  I could hear the murmur of a voice in the background, I assume that would be the fiancee, and then he said, "I'm supposed to tell you the story of Tucker greeting Jenn the other morning."

It seems that Tucker met her at the curb and said, "Are you really excited about marrying my dad?"

She said that yes she was.  And then he said, "Well you should know that he really bugged my first mom."

Is that as funny as I think it is?  I feel MUCH better.

I love my kid.

Talked to Michael as well and he expressed some concern because our birthday is coming, a week from today.  It's always been a special thing that he was born on my birthday, I tell him he was my best birthday present.  Well, apparently they celebrated his birthday in Florida but he's concerned about his mom because I'll be all alone in Colorado for my big day.  No cake, no party, no presents ... no Michael to remind me that I already have the best birthday present ever in my wonderful much loved son. 

I love my kid. 

Today I am packing boxes.  Have made several trips to storage, one to Goodwill and I'm about to make a trip to the library to make a donation to the "friends of the library" bookstore.  I'm making a dent.  T-minus two weeks, give or take, til move day.  And in that time - after today, I will have two days off.  Better get back to work, suddenly it doesn't seem like I've done nearly enough!

All Better Now

I've had a good week in spite of the beginning.  Got over my attitude problem.  Or at least got over that unfortunate inclination toward homicide. 

In fact, some parts of my week have been sublime.

I'm behind on packing up my stuff, but oh well.  I'll just have to work like a cliche a romance novel. 

Ranting and Raving Lunatic

My therapist told me almost three years ago that ending a marriage requires a lengthy recovery.  The "rule of thumb" is one year of recovery per every four years of the marriage.  It takes that long to break the patterns that were set in the relationship and leave you truly free to form a new bond. 

Just in case I had doubt of that wisdom, my ex-husband's approaching re-marriage has cured me of the delusion.  I'm not over it.  In fact, I'm surprised by the vehemence of my reaction.  When I divorced, I left with a sincere desire that whatever came next would lead to his happiness (as well as my own) and I was convinced that remaining together meant that neither of us had a chance of happiness or emotional health. 

Well, now he looks happy and it's making me crazy.  All of a sudden I DON'T want him to be happy.  I want him to suffer and have low self-esteem and realize that he is a horrible person who treated me badly.  I want him to understand that unless he changes his ways, the next relationship will be even worse (because I want him to understand that NO ONE will be as loving, kind, tolerant, compassionate, forgiving, or cute as me.)

What is WRONG with me?

In my head I can think of all kinds of good reasons for him to marry.  He will be happier married than alone.  He will be more stable and secure.  He will be less involved with me.  I know all these things and more in my head, but my wicked heart isn't listening to my head.

My heart is grieving and angry.  I look at the things he's done or is doing now.  The things he's given to his fiancee that I longed for and never got.  The way that he is showing consideration and accommodating her wishes.  And it makes me feel horrible.  I literally begged him for kindness, for lesser consideration than he's showing her now. 

___ okay ___ at this point I was in a true blue mood

Then my friend called and told me that all this means is that I'm just as messed up as the rest of us.  And now I feel better.  I know I'm a flawed person, but then all the people I love the best are a little off.

Two Down ...

I packed two boxes last night.  Yep.  Exactly TWO.  No hard decisions made, I just packed my "Great Books" collection.  Now I have approximately ... 80 boxes to go?  Something like that.

I have a long way to go and a short time to get there.

Move date - June 28

Sigh

I said good-bye to the boys last night for two months.  They will be visiting their Dad and then my parents and I know I'm repeating myself, I've said this before.   

My meeting with Mr. Big has been postponed so I'm feeling anxious about my employment situation. 
I have to pack up my stuff and get moved.
It looks like I'll be pretty much swamped for a while. 

And I'm tired.  I got very little sleep Friday night, and very little sleep last night. I took a nap when I got home this morning, but still I have time to feel lonely and sorry for myself.  I'm in that state of tired and sad and missing my boys that makes me prone to being teary.