I really try to keep things light on the blog with recipes, crafts (when I have time), travel recaps, and the sort but I’m here today with a real life post.
On Thursday my Mom and Stepdad were officially divorced after almost 2 yrs since my mom filed for divorce in a way of getting his attention. Ladies, don’t do this. You life is not a rom com when the guy realizes that things have not been going well and he will swoop in all McDreamy like and take it as a sign to work on things. Nope, he will say ‘fine, let’s get divorced then.’ And then drama and the such ensues.
There is a million and a half things to explain to give enough of a backstory or explain what happened in those almost 2 years since my mom filed for divorce but that is not really my story to share, it is their’s.
I’ll just say that this is the shitty divorce. That is what I have been thinking about this whole time.
My mom and dad got divorced when I was younger (8, I think). There was plenty of drama involved with that regarding custody since I was a minor but none of that stuff stressed me out as this divorce. I’m sure I was stressed at the time but none of that stuff as been significant to me, at least in terms of it constantly playingback in my mind. In fact, when somethings are brought up again I’m all like ‘oh yeah, I forgot about that’ while my forehead does this funny wrinkle thing when I nod along.
So anyway, between the 2 divorces I say this is the shitty one. Here’s why…
When my mom and dad got divorced it really sucked that he was no longer living at home but in terms of a young kids mind it was not too bad as I still got to see him during visitation And where was that visitation? Well it first started at his friend’s place as he stayed at an apartment above their like 5 car garage. Guess what they had?!? A pool table, popcorn machine, tennis court, and pool! We couldn’t really use the slide because of a ever constant annoying wasp problem but still an pool where I could jump off the diving board or do under water somersaults in. Super Cool. And then when he bought a place it was my town so I could walk there after school or on the weekends. And what does that mean? I got another room! And it had a computer and phone. And the best part was that my dad let me put every since poster, cut out, and scrap of paper of Backstreet Boys stuff up. EVERYWHERE. I had posters on the ceiling. It was amazing.
Sure, juggling my shit for visitation was not easy, and sometimes holidays were tough as I bounced around but let me go through this again… another house, another room, and one that I could destroy with poster putty.
So that brings me to this divorce… what do I get out of it? Nothing. A big fat nothing. I’m older so I’m much more aware and involved in the drama. And now I have this whole side of my family that I have not seen in over 2 years. Not a word from them either. Sides were drawn and I fell in the middle, I guess. While we had the typical family drama at the holidays over who’s house we were going to we still had a great time eating, drinking, and playing around. That is no longer an option for me. Same goes for the boat. The boat were I spent weekends on drinking wine out of red solo cups, watching NASCAR races on the outside TV while my stepdad smoked cigars, and going to Block Island.
Well, this Thursday rolled around and I spent the day all sorts of being a wreck and quite a bit of the day crying. Two cries before work. Once at my desk. Once in the storage closet after my coworker pulled my in there as I started to cry in the middle of her office. And after work. So yeah, super great day. I ate milk and cookies for lunch as nothing else looked appetizing. And then I drove down to CT thinking I could be there for my mom (and go to the vineyard vines sample sale on friday = shopping therapy) and it turns out she was in a lot better shape than my crying ass. Go figure.
So now I get to navigate the post divorced world with my stepdad hoping that things are not super awkward and the divorce is not brought up as I just can’t go there. All while wishing I could live in a happy little bubble.
Oh well, life goes on.