Good Gravy

10 Things on my Mind

Two Peas had a fun blog challenge today:

Make a list of your top ten things on your mind right now at the time you blog. Date it....mark down the time...and just number 1-10 and write the first 10 things that come to mind.. no censoring.

OK, here it goes. 

1. Please let it stay sunny long enough today so I can take the Cs swimming.
2. I slept OK, but I would like to be able to get a good night's rest without the help of Ambien.
3. Why is it OK for Mr. Exq. to take a week to email me back on something, but if I don't reply right away I get followup after followup looking for my response?
4. Paula Deen is one strong woman. I finished It Ain't All About the Cooking last night. Her writing style made me feel like she was sitting across the table with a big cup of coffee dishing about herself. It gave me new respect for the woman behind all the sticks of butter.
5. So, so happy one of my favorite farm stands now has locally grown sweet corn. We went back yesterday for more. Also loving that the supermarket has lobsters for $5.99/pound. I may need to treat myself.
6. I'm pretty much done with Nickelodeon. Those shows are insipid. I've put limits on how much time the girls spend watching.
7. I feel great about getting back in shape and losing weight (14 pounds). I'm proud of myself.
8. One of the lame-ass excuses the ex-boyfriend gave me when we broke up was that we weren't intellectually compatible. (I told him not to flatter himself). That comment has stung more than I'd like. I'm may not be home reading my MENSA newsletter, but I certainly am not an unintelligent woman. Perhaps that comment says more about him than it does me. Who knows?
9. I can't believe July is almost over.
10. Why is it that packages of hot dogs and packages of hot dog buns don't have the same amounts? If I'm going to cook 8 hot dogs, I want 8 buns, yes? But there are only 6 buns, so two of the dogs are naked. Someone needs to solve this problem.

Get Up, Stand Up

I was putzing around, creating some new cell phone ringtones at Phonezoo, when I decided to upload some Bob Marley songs. It is summer after all. Perfect time for some reggae-mon.

Little did I know my little guy would be completely, totally into his music!

He's been bouncing around my kitchen, dancing, smiling, and having a grand old time enjoying some old-school reggae on my old-school laptop.

So, from C3 to you, his favorite Bob Marley song (this is the one that makes him bop the most)...

Get up, stand up.

Stand up for your right.

Get up, stand up.

Don't give up the fight.

(Life is your right!)

Words to live by. Thanks, Bob. I think I have my new ringtone now.

Many Trees Died While I Was Getting Divorced

Today, I visited my attorney. The visit was for two reasons. I needed to execute my new will (Hey, my cat needs a place to go if I kick the bucket before he does), health care proxy, and all that other stuff you need to have if you're an adult and/or a parent.

The second purpose was to retrieve my file-cabinet-drawer worth of documents I had to provide for the Discovery phase of my divorce trial.

I got home, schlepped the box upstairs (good thing I'm lifting weights these days), and decided I needed to get a photo, for prosperity's sake.

(My cat enjoyed checking out all the papers!)

That's one stuffed-to-the-gills file box full of my life with Mr. Exq. Bank statements, tax returns, investment reports, emails, photos, house documentation. You name it, I had to find it and send it off.

That said, I didn't photocopy any of this stuff. I figured if Mr. Exq.'s attorney wanted any of it, he could make copies!

I then decided I'd be ambitious and try to do some much-needed filing. I set about sorting all my documents so I could get them filed and put in the attic.

When I saw the amount of divorce-related correspondence, I was so aghast I had to take another photo.

My white binder for trial, and all the paper that went back and forth. My testimony. Exhibits. Invoices, correspondence, all that stuff.

Ironically, my final divorce agreement isn't in this pile. It's in the firebox for safe keeping.

I guess the paperless office hasn't caught up with the legal profession just yet.

It's bittersweet in a way reviewing all the paper and photos and realizing that's all that is left of a 12-year marriage. But, knowing it is really, finally over, and not having to visit my attorney again (hopefully), well, that's priceless.

Life's Challenges

The Two Peas web site had a great blog challenge today.

Blog about some of the challenges in your life that you are now facing. If any.
Be as blunt, or bold as you like.

Sounds good BonnieRose. I have several.

My divorce: I am officially divorced from Mr. Exq., and that is a relief. But it doesn't make dealing with him any easier. As my attorney told me, "Court can do a lot but it can't change a defective personality." There's still conflict between the two of us and there probably will for some time.

That said, I have become much better at not allowing him to take up too much mindshare. I am able to keep the conflict away from my children. I don't let him ruin my day.

My breakup: I was dating a dude who dumped me three days before my divorce trial. "I don't see a future," he told me. Turns out he had a new girlfriend in the wings. Of course, I had to learn that later from someone else. He lied to me. He told others before he told me. He gave me excuses why he didn't want to see me anymore that were, well, lame.

I still find myself troubled by how he ended things, and that he ended up being such a dishonest, immature coward. I certainly didn't think he was going to be "the one", but it stings nonetheless. I don't like feeling disposable.

I had prepared a job recommendation for him and asked for it back because I have no clue what he has lined up for work and can't speak to his current experience anymore. He wrote back taking the opportunity to let me know again he wasn't dishonest, cares about me, respects me, has integrity, blah blah blah. Perhaps he did that to make himself feel better; who knows. I didn't really think my email required any response other than "OK."

But again, here's this 40-year-old trying to justify his behavior. Dude, I don't buy it. I just don't see someone who 1) dumps someone three days before their divorce trial, 2) lies about why he is ending the relationship, 3) tells others before telling me 4) was unable to constructively address any conflict ... sorry, but that doesn't demonstrate integrity, maturity, honesty, and respect toward me.

I know I deserve better. I saw his true colors, and they weren't pretty. But it's still taking me longer to process this than I'd like.

Cutting ties: I recently had to let go of a friendship, and it still bothers me some. I could no longer support this woman's choices. She was demonstrating behaviors that were very concerning, and she wasn't being honest with herself. I felt I was in over my head. The advice I was trying to give wasn't being heard, nor was it helping. I need to focus on myself right now, so I had to walk away.

Sleep: I'm still having trouble sleeping, but I'm hoping as the above issues get processed that will improve.

I may be grappling with a lot, but I am blessed with so, so many good things. (That can be the topic of another post!)

A positive manifesto

Usually when I hear the term manifesto, I think of someone like the VA Tech shooter writing out his final wishes and demands. So when I found this manifesto here, I had to save a copy to my computer. (I'm thinking of purchasing a copy of the poster for my office.) So, so many inspiring, thought-provoking quotes that ring true to me.

Absolutely love this thought: "Your outlook on life is a direct reflection of how much you like yourself." So true.

"Wake up and realize you are surrounded by amazing friends," is another quote that totally rang true to me. In the midst of my divorce and other break-up, I have been so blessed by the presence, intelligence, and kindness of many, many people. I am humbled and very thankful.

"Dance, sing, floss and travel." Well, that goes without saying!

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

 

Ode to Kramer

A few days ago, I went to pick up C2 from camp. After giving her a hug, her counselor said "I just wanted to let you know she got a little sad about her cat dying."

Huh?

"What? He died in 2003."

"Well, she's having a relapse."

Goodness! I didn't think she'd remember Kramer all that well since she was only 2 when he went to cat heaven.

Kramer was my first adult-pet. Mr. Exq. and I were married, we'd bought our house, and I was suffering post-marriage depression. Something was missing.

So, I decided to get a cat.

I found an ad in the paper for kittens not too far away from my house, so I drove over. The owner was the epitome of "cat lady." Cats were everywhere ... on the sofa, on the kitchen table, you name it.

She took me into one of the bedrooms (the cats had bedrooms! We're talking crazy cat lady here), and there he was. This orange furball of a kitten. He was adorable. And I felt better about myself that I was rescuing a cat from that hell-hole of a house.

I brought him home, and he hid under the sofa for three days. Once he got comfortable, he came out and was a love bug.

Kramer was treated like a kid, because at the time, we had none. Mr. Exq. used to chase him around the house with a remote-controlled truck. He got Christmas ornaments.

He was my buddy. When I was home ill from work, green with morning sickness, or watching MTV, Kramer was there.

Kramer had his share of health issues. There were several times when I thought I'd come home from work and find him dead. We probably spent way more than we should have on visits to Tufts, reflux medicine, and a liver biopsy. But he fully used his nine lives.

Not long after we moved to this house, I went into the bathroom and found Kramer on the ground, in a position that didn't seem too comfortable. I went out and got Mr. Exq.

"Did Kramer die overnight?"

He went in and confirmed my fear.

I then had to drive him up to the vet. Mr. Exq. put him in a cardboard box, wrapped him with a towel and put him into the back of his car. I was crying, and paranoid that the cat would wake up and jump over the seat and into my lap. I told him that later, and he said, "Trust me. He died."

It took me a while to want to get another kitten, but about 9 months later, we adopted Uncle Junior. But, he's not quite the same as Kramer.

I don't think my daughter's sadness that day really had anything to do with Kramer, but it made me stop and realize I still miss him, four years later.

A Good Fit

Today, I did something I've wanted to for a while, but never really had the time to do.

I had a bike fitting.

It only makes sense, right? You wouldn't wear shoes that didn't fit. Why should I ride on a bike that didn't fit me well?

So I called Belmont Wheelworks, where I bought my cycle back in the day, and took it in. The person who made my appointment said, "Don't forget your bike."

I said, "Excuse me?"

"You'd be surprised how many people come in for a bike fitting and forget their bike."

"Good to know. I'll remember my bike."

So I strapped my bike on the back of the biohazard and drove down for my appointment.

A nice gentleman named Sam helped me out. He asked me several questions, like how far do I ride? What are my complaints when riding (that are bike-related), things like that.

I had already swapped out the saddle for something perfect for wimps more comfortable, and I had cleats. My biggest complaints were palm soreness, and I didn't think my pedal stroke was that efficient. I seemed to fatigue quickly when doing a lot of climbing.

So, on the bike I went. I pedaled; Sam measured. He got out the tools and made a tuck here, a tweak there.

Turns out I'd been riding with my seat way too low. We're talking 2 inches too low. It felt so much better pedaling with the seat higher. The handlebar issue was corrected with some new grips that weren't expensive.

And, that was that. I walked out with a better-fitting bike, and for not a whole lot of dough (there is a charge for bike fitting, but you get a break if you purchased the cycle there). I am looking forward to road-testing it this weekend.

Now, I just need to find some shorts that fit. I've lost 12 pounds so my shorts are falling off! Hopefully I will be able to find some amongst all the fall sweaters and winter coats. (Gone are the days where you can actually purchase clothes in the season in which you can wear them.)

Are You Smarter than a 5-Year-Old?

You know that FOX show, Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?

Well, here at Casa Spinster, it's more like Are You Smarter than the 5-Year-Olds?

I'm a pretty intelligent woman, but there are days when my 5-year-old twins blow me out of the water.

Especially my little guy with autism. The dude may not be able to form a sentence, but he has intelligence beyond what I'd ever expected.

For example: I thought I had a pretty good system hooked up in his room, so he wouldn't be running around my house at all hours in the morning. He figured it out. How did I discover this? He busted into my room at 5 a.m. Sunday morning and started going all Saturday Night Fever with the light switch.

I'm having enough problems sleeping, so obviously this is not OK. I had to pull the doorknob with a lock off the bathroom and put it on his door, the lock facing out of course. He has a dutch door so I can hear and see into his room whenever I choose. But for safety reasons he can't run amok around here.

He also loves, loves, loves Capri Sun juice and water packs.

I used to be able to just keep the 10-packs on the floor in my garage. He figured out soon enough he could go out, find one, bring it in, use his sentence strip and tell me, "I want juice."

So, I thought I'd be really smart about the whole thing and keep them in the trunk of my biohazard, er, minivan.

(For the record, I do not own a 2007 Odyssey. I just got divorced, and I did not get a new or new-to-me car as part of my settlement.)

The dude figured out how to open the trunk and help himself!

Now, we keep the garage door locked at all times.

Then, there's his sister. I am blessed that she loves, loves, loves fruit of all kinds.

She loves it so much that she will go in the fridge and help herself, which is OK as long as I've had a chance to get everything washed.

She's not the best at hiding her actions though.

One time, I went to the fridge after putting away some laundry, and found half the strawberries missing.

Of course, right next to the "evidence," she leaves the knife.

Never Take Ambien While Knitting

I had to rip out 100+ stitches on this sweater. D'oh!

(Don't you just love my purls of wisdom? Get it??!!)

Never Wear a Red Shirt When Shopping at Target.

I'm just saying.

That is all!

Had a good weekend. Nothing terribly exciting to report at the moment.