When Captain Meets the Ex

You knew it was bound to happen. I live next door to my ex (what you thought that was just a catchy blog title?!)

The divorce is long past final.

The kids are accepting the fact that mom is "moving on."

So for valentine's weekend, the Captain came to visit me [he lives 1000 miles away.] I told the kids he was coming (they've met him briefly previously and know I talk to him on the phone a lot). Son even helped me clean the house and prepare for the Captain's arrival, all the way down to making the guest bed up for the Captain.....****

As I may have mentioned it was a glorious weekend. So much fun stuff.

Then Sunday afternoon we were picking up limbs and cleaning up my yard from the numerous storms when ex pulls in next door. And comes out back with Dumb Runaway Dog. And Daughter comes out with Stinky. And I'm there picking up sticks with a handsome friend. Daughter chatted and told stories. Ex had some mental telepathy thing going with DRD because she was done with her business in 30 seconds and they were back in the house.

Captain said, completely innocently and thoughtfully, "I was going to go over and shake his hand and introduce myself. But I wasn't sure if that would be a good idea."

Um no. Pretty sure that would've been a bad idea. Ex hasn't spoken a word to me since. Not that he normally would anyway. But things have gotten a tad icier around here.....

Poor old curmudgeon...

****Kids were with the Ex for the weekend - Son just happened to be around Friday tohelp me get ready...

Wishing the Peace of the Weekend Carried through the Week

Probably like many of you, I wish I could find a way to have the peace of the weekend continue through the week.

Wait, I think I've figured it out - quit my job. Ok, so that's not practical either. I mean, we have the whole food, shelter, clothing, college thing to think about. So the Job is rather a necessity.

So other ideas? This weekend was one of those perfect weekends - a day in Baltimore enjoying the aquarium and the dolphin show, making faces at Sharks, running away from snakes (don't tell me it doesn't count if they're behind glass. They're still terrifying to me). Playing games at ESPNzone, laughing our butts off riding mechanical horses and playing air hockey. Cooking the perfect dinner at home with little planning, playing games by the fire. Teaching Sunday School, enjoying the perfect 2 hour brunch at Mrs. K's toll house, picking up sticks in the sunny afternoon and feeling the accomplishment of a cleaner yard, watching movies and cuddling on the couch, hiking at Great Falls. Yeah it was one of those weekends.

Until about 9pm when BossMan and I had a conference call and started setting up the week. And I realized I have to go to NYC this week whether I want to or not (NOT). Wondering how to get it all done and be back for Friday's appointment. Realizing your team may have forgotten to serve something yesterday that you had prearranged Friday night but someone might have decided to change that plan. Facing documents and travels and treadmills. Sigh.

So yeah, how do we carry the peace of the weekend with us through the stresses of the week? Anyone?

3 dogs + 3 balls = peace .... Unless the Dogs are Stupid

Lately I've had 3 dogs every [other] week - or for 2 weeks straight now as Ex travels more and more.... 2 is more than I bargained for. 3 nearly send me to the mad-house.

Two 70 pound yellow labs - my big dumb queen bee and his lab, DRD (Dumb Runaway Dog), plus Daughter's puppy, 8 pound Stinky. Stinky likes to be the Biggest - the Biggest Pain that is. She hangs on their jowls when they have a toy she wants and try to run away from her. I kid you not. She's a rotten terrier. And then when they try to strike back, she hides under beds or chairs where they cannot reach her. She is a smart, rotten terrier.

So I got 3 of everything. 3 balls. 3 stuffed Santa chew toys. 3 bones. 3 big bears to hug. 3 cages, 3 beds, you get the picture.

Wait, I'm the mother of twins and never bought 2 of everything. Share and share alike. OK these are dogs and my children have taught me, through their Scholars' Seminar and Morality classes at school that "Dogs cannot reason and therefore don't have a soul." [oh the fights on that issue....] but we are pretty much in agreement that they don't reason [or they'd stop eating chocolate and nearly dying....] sooooo 3 of everything. And then there is peace.

HAHAHAHAHAHA

Stinky has tiny stinky-sized tennis balls. That squeak. And DRD thinks they are hors d'oeuvres. Queen Bee likes tennis balls, but DRD, despite being a retriever doesn't know how to retrieve, just how to eat balls, so they fight over that one. And, of course, the other dogs only want the ball that the other dogs have. Tonight I was trying to play ball with Queen Bee, the true retriever , but DRD and Stinky kept trying to steal the tennis ball, despite the fact that the tiny ball and a wonderful, chewy rubber ball were sitting in front of them, in plain sight. And of course they don't retrieve. And of course Queen Bee is 10 and can't see that DRD has the stupid tennis ball in her mouth, so she runs frantically around the room looking for it. There is much growling and gnashing of teeth and biting going on here tonight. And did you know that a terrier's mouth fits nicely completely inside a lab's mouth? Uh-huh it does. All this while I am trying to finalize my discovery responses and get them filed before midnight.....sigh.

My kids said something nice about me to their friends? No way...

It seems I have a talent and a niche where I actually display patience with children.

If you know me, you know that I pretty much have no patience for anything any time any where any how. Not for the atm machine that can't keep up with my key punches; not for the self checkout lane that doesn't process my info fast enough when I swipe my bonus card and my credit card and am 5 steps ahead; not for my sunday school kids who squirm and are disruptive; not for the gum chewing checkout person who pretends I do not exist; not for the slow person in the left lane; not for my secretary who types slower that I do (which isn't fair b/c I type ridiculously fast); not for the puppy who still pees in the house....

But when it comes to teaching kids to drive, well, I have incredible patience. Huh? Yeah I was just so excited about this phase of their lives. And I know it's so important that they get as much experience as they can before they get turned loose out there on their own. So everywhere we went since July 28, 2008, they drove. Highways. Beltways, Backroads, night time, hail storms, downpours, snow. And I [usually] quietly and patiently sat in the front and calmly gave them instruction, trying to anticipate their needs.

"Up ahead the intersection will have a right turn only lane, so stay center."

"You need to turn left eventually up here so when you can, make a move to get over to the left lane" (nearly every road around here is 6 lanes - 3 each direction. No I'm not kidding).

They said the "Heads up" and the "calm manner" was really helpful. Oh once or twice I shouted, "STOP!" or "NO" but usually when an accident was imminent. I was more likely to say, "Gee I was gripping the car door rather tightly on that last stop. Think you could slow down a little earlier next time?" See I had confidence that these smart, responsible kids would do it right ultimately, if a little nerve wrackingly. I high-fived them when they nailed a parking spot first (or second or third) time or backed into a tough space or made a smart decision and did not attempt to "make" the yellow light...

So my kids have bragged to their friends what a cool, teacher mom I am. And now their friends want me to teach them to drive.

Go figure.

It's nice to know that sometimes, we connect with our kids. Of course, it helps if it's something they really really really want....

Psychological Ramblings that May or May Not have a Point....

I know that as things go, my Ex is not horrible. In fact, he has many redeeming qualities. And although I was miserable for most of 20 years, well, so was he. And we did share some good times. Although the farther I get from the marriage, the more I see the sublties of my suffering - the mind games, the control, the belittling, the psychological battering. But really? Not so bad when compared to the awful things I have seen and heard from my friends, in the news, etc.

And sometimes when I look at my life now and I compare it to our life then I am amazed at the difference in my quality of life. And I am thankful for the many many blessings in my life since the day. I have an incredibly supportive family that I've become even closer to since then without the impediment of his resentment and comments when I tried to communicate with them. I have a great job. I have wonderful friends. I am healthy. I have an amazing ManFriend who adds a whole new dimension to my life.

And then I compare [what I know] of his life then to now. And I am somewhat amazed that he is still a miserable, fat, curmudgeon. He complains that financially he's worse off. Things don't seem to be breaking his way. And my mean-voice comes out and says "what goes around comes around." And then I look over my shoulder and think "Ack I am going to get it for that evil thought." But it's there. And I'm admitting that.

I try not to be smug about it. Goodness knows I don't deserve my blessings, but God has opted to give me a break lately. And so many people I know who are suffering certainly don't deserve their suffering. So I'm not making a general statement about the world.

I'm simply comparing our lives together to our lives apart. And being really really thankful. And although last Saturday on an abnormally warm, sunny, winter's day I went outside and he was washing his car and I was doing outside chores and I was remembering days when we all worked on things together and how simple it is in many ways to be 4 people as opposed to 3 people, but then. I looked again at my life. And even with all the stresses and challenges of being 1 person doing 3 jobs now (mom, dad, lawyer) instead of just 2 (mom, lawyer), I still say, "Yes, I made the right decision. And it feels right."

The Good The Bad the Ugly and Poop

I thought this was a daily blog? that was before trials and traveling and dogs who learned to open pantries and poop all night....

The GOOD: In this horrid economy with people and family members being laid off and my industry laying off by the thousands, I have been fortunate enough to stay in a place that is cautious, conservative, and loyal. Yesterday I got a notice that I actually got a bonus for 2008. Huh? Shocked. Totally and wholly. I didn't make my billable hours - no one in my group did last year. But I worked my butt off on non-billables, on committees, and marketing, and pro bono work. And someone noticed. And said, "Thanks." I am speechless

The Bad: Kind of goes along with The Ugly and Poop:
Yesterday Queen Bee again went on a chocolate rampage - this time opening the pantry, opening the door to the family room, and opening Stink Butt's cage and letting her out. The two feasted on Onion soup mix, (deadly onions to dogs), chocolate cake mix, boxes of mac n cheese and who knows what else. They shredded papers and had a party all over the house. And then they pooped. And vomited. Everywhere. All night long. And still today. AND I am vomiting - not sure if it's the grossness of the dogs or the flu that's going around. And Son is sick in bed with a fever and the flu of another kind. And Daughter went to school to get away from the madness with her nasty cold and sore throat.

Yep, it's bad, ugly and poopy around here. The Vet's on speed dial and contemplating whether we give Stinky Butt the BRAT [bananas rice applesauce toast] diet for her diarrhea or whether we give her an enema to get the rest out once and for all. Queen bee, being 75 pounds, is doing ok other than HATING her new cage that she'll be living in while we're out of the house forever more. I need to add double locks and maybe set up nanny-cams (doggy-cams?) to figure out how she's pulling this Houdini stunt. No it's not Ex coming over. He's in Florida [again - so ironic] so I can't blame him....

But that work thing? I am busy as all hell. I have already filled 2 months' quota of hours in the first 6 weeks so I am happy, even if it means I can't blog regularly or read other's blogs or stay home when I'm vomiting. Yeah. I'm at the office. Sharing my germs. And my Purell sanitizer....

What do you get when you combine a phunny Dad with model trains?

Recently, my Dad celebrated his retirement and all the kids, most of the grandkids, and many friends gathered to celebrate. The Captain and I thought it would be a nice time for him to meet the family....momentary insanity on our parts? Perhaps.

Anyway, the Captain is also 1 of 5 kids in a French-Canadian/Irish Catholic family. That means lots of people and kids and names to remember. Over the last few months he's come to know my family through my stories. And he's come to appreciate their "personalities" through my stories and, now, through his own experiences.

Obviously, I told him a lot about my Dad prior to the party. My dad is the best Dad in the universe. This I know, so don't even try to tell me how great your dad is. (OK OK you can try, but well....) My dad is NOT perfect. Oh no. He'll drive you absolutely crazy. But his heart is always in the right place, so you love him no matter how loudly you have to shout because he's turned his hearing aids off, or how many road signs he reads out loud when you're driving down the street, or how many times he tells you the same story b/c he has so many kids he can't remember who he told what, or how many times he checks his voicemail despite the fact that no one ever leaves him messages (maybe we should just so he can listen?!).

One of my favorite things about my Dad is his very phunny sense of humor. He is king of puns. Combine this with his avid model railroading, and, well, you get this:


Yeah, that's a portion of his layout. The backdrop is the most amazing painting - done on 6 (? I forget how many) LARGE canvases. Oil on canvas. In the basement for a backdrop. Painted by his dear, ridiculously talented friend Colonel Hayes. Yes, this is the kind of love my parents inspire.



That's Dad ever the teacher, pointing things out to the Captain (next to Dad) and to my Bro

Let the Puns Begin...


In front of the graveyard, the gravediggers truck sports the company name... "Dowe Digem and How!"

Do you see the deer that the car ran over? Yep the tow truck had to come and pull it off. (Do you have any idea how small HO scale is? My father is nuts.....)

That's the Whitewater Brewing company owned by William J. Clinton...

And the delivery trucks? "We Deliver when WE feel like it, Inc."

Yes, you read right, "Estee Loggers"

And he has a whole section of mining, called, naturally, "Boggle, the Mine"

Here's a small Heinz factor, where they only make 28 1/2 varieties because "We're a SMALL plant"

This is my personal favorite: "Burrr Ice Co."

Another shot of his amazing layout. He has graffiti on his train bridge. And IRS building that catches fire and burns. Kids tipping over an outhouse, lights shot out of the billboard next to Farmer Brown's farm b/c it was keeping the cows awake, and oh so many more.

It's a joy to go down there with Dad and see all the funny stuff. And he's hip, too. Has some kind of system that runs each train individually so that they make noise and puff smoke and when they go into the tunnel it gets quieter. He's rolling with the times people. And he will make you laugh....