Moving Daze: Part 1

All moves into houses start with one significant event: the closing (unless you are just renting, then it’s mainly pick up your keys at the office).  I have been to four closings in my lifetime and I generally dread them.  My first one took three hours because some of the paperwork was wrong and needed to be corrected and while my second and third went relatively okay (especially the third…when you are having a house built, the closing takes almost no time), I was still dreading my fourth.  Leading up to the closing, all of the work was done through e-mail.  I think I actually spoke to my mortgage company three times on the phone over the 45 day process.  Don’t get me wrong, I loved that.  Give me an online option over an in person or phone option any day of the week.  Still, with something as big as buying a house, I trepidatiously entered the closing expecting the worst. 

I shouldn’t have worried though; I was in and out within 40 minutes with only a slight cramping of the right hand from signing the phone book…I mean the pile of papers for the loan.  I do wonder when we will get to the day where all of this will be on an iPad-like tablet and all you have to do is sign and initial once and those will automatically populate to the places they need to be.  I swear a lot of the forms were introduced to me as “And again, this is just to say that you confirm you are buying the house as-is with no warranties.”  Again?  Did I already sign something to this effect?  I was dizzy from paperwork so I couldn’t remember exactly but if I did, why am I signing it again?  I did ask after the 40^th signature if anyone ever refused to sign any of the forms.  The closing agent and my real estate agent just laughed.  “If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be getting the loan!”  So, if all of this is required to get the loan and I want the loan, why can’t I just sign in one place and give me the damn keys, already?

I really shouldn’t complain, though.  It went by very smoothly and my closing costs actually ended up way cheaper than originally estimated (although by their own admission, they over-estimate the closing costs so the buyer is prepared.  Fine with me!  I would rather be surprised in not having to pay as much as opposed to having to pay more).

With the closing completed and me armed with a file folder full of mortgage documents as well as a small catalog of the bylaws of the community I was moving into, I took my new set of keys and garage door openers and bolted to my new house.  I had a busy day and it already started with having the girls in the morning and then tending to them in the afternoon.  Even though technically the girls were supposed to be with their mother this weekend, she had her cousin’s wedding to go to and they did not allow kids at the wedding.  I thought that was odd.  I always thought weddings were fun for kids…anyway, I guess they thought differently.  Not a problem for me, by the way.  Even with everything going on, I’ll take the girls when I can.  I just needed to juggle the closing with picking up the girls, taking them to gymnastics class and being on a conference call for work.  Fun times for what should have been my first moving day.

I already had most of my clothes in the back seat of my truck.  I suppose that was opening me up for something bad to happen at closing but I took the chance.  Getting a sticker for my truck to allow me to get in and out of the community was first on my list and I got that marked off in no time.  When I got the sticker I also received yet another folder full of stuff about the community.  The reading requirement for living in this place was like studying for the SATs.  I drove over to the house, pulled into the garage after opening the door with my newly signed for garage door openers and discovered my truck doesn’t fit all the way into the garage.  The back end sticks out and would definitely prevent me from closing the door.  A bit annoying but I needed to trade my truck in for something smaller and with four-wheel drive anyway.  Living in Texas without four-wheel drive is okay but it’s been a struggle up in snow country and now that I have a driveway that has an incline as sharp as some New York Cheddars, I really needed something different (plus I no longer had the backup of my Ex with her four-wheel drive Jeep).  Add into the fact that the bed of my truck sticks over a foot out from the garage opening and automotive shopping was in my immediate future.

Undaunted by this discovery, however, I pulled out the various pieces of luggage I had my clothes hastily packed in.  Remember, I used to travel quite a bit so my luggage collection has grown quite a bit as well.  I threw all the suitecases into my master bedroom and then meandered through the house.  I had already been there once that morning before the closing to do a walkthrough…just make sure a tree hadn’t fallen into the living room or that the owners hadn’t decided a kitchen sink was no longer necessary…stuff like that.  It was a short visit, though, and it was with my real estate agent.  This time, it was just me and I walked slowly through each room, thinking about where furniture would go, how I would use a particular room as my office, this other as a guest room and that room would be where the girls would stay when they were over. 

I took some time to soak in the beautiful hardwood floors that were stained a deep cherry, the arched openings to the dining room and kitchen, the vaulted ceilings in just about every room and the unique light fixtures that were dotted throughout the house.  I sighed thinking this house was perfect for me and then I sighed again with a little bit of regret that I had to find the house in the first place.

As exciting as it was to have a new place to call my own, I would trade it all in to go back to the life my wife and I once shared.  Not the life we’ve been living for the past year or so…back to when our second daughter was born and our first just became the “big sister.”  When we knew we were in love and we didn’t have to prove it.  When it was her and I and our girls against the world, living in a small apartment waiting for our house to be built and exploring the new area we had just moved to. Before work got in the way and before the reality and distractions of everyday life took that love away and we just became two people living together who happened to have children.   

Yes, I would gladly give up my new house, the nearby beach and lake, hiking trails, and all the other amenities the community provides to get back a normal, loving family; one that isn’t separated by plots of land and emotional tension.  I know it can no longer be that way.  We aren’t the same people we were and while I try to not think about why that is, significant events like this seem to bring that out.  I have probably written in this blog about a half a dozen sentiments that seem to bring a close to all of the sadness about this divorce but apparently it isn’t fully closed. 

It’s kind of like my truck in my new house.  I can get most of it in but not enough to shut the door. 

Next time: More moving stuff and I’ll try not to be so depressing about it!

The First Visitation

This past weekend marked the very first weekend visitation I had with my girls.  Since the wife (or the ex…or soon to be ex?  I’ve seen people use the abbreviation of SBTX but I don’t care for it…I need a unique reference to my ex…some heavy thought will be given to this topic).  Anyway since SHE moved out last week, we started on the documented procedures set forth in our settlement agreement with visitation, child support and all that.  I have the monthly amount worked out for child support and I created a Google calendar for the visitation schedule straight through until they both turn 18.  This way we both know the schedule and can make and document adjustments as needed.  My hope is to never have to actually look at the settlement agreement again.  We are both adults and should be able to work out whatever we need to work out.  If we can’t, then we’ll pull out the agreement and if that doesn’t settle it, I guess we pull out the lawyers.

Normally, I will get the girls starting on Friday afternoon through Sunday at 6 pm but I kept them over Sunday night this past weekend.  Like I said, my ex and I are adults and we’re okay with adjustments…especially when those adjustments mean I get the girls an extra night! 

In some ways, that first weekend almost didn’t count because I was still at our old house which was mostly empty since the Ex left.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I had nothing but three people’s worth of stuff out of a house that held four makes for a mostly empty house.  The only room that was pretty much untouched was my office.  Still, I had a couch, the big TV, dining room furniture, a bed and dresser.  What else did I need?  Well, turns out an inflatable bed was necessary for the girls to sleep on.  They’ll have their own beds in my new house but for this weekend, the girls slept in the middle of the living room on an air mattress (a big, queen sized one).  They loved it and after they were asleep, I went up to my room.  They slept through the night without any problems.  I was expecting some crying in the middle of the night but, for the most part, my girls are troopers or just heavy sleepers. 

Friday night was spent going to the grocery store and getting supplies for a movie night.  I didn’t have a TiVo/cable box due to a mix up in the moving but I did have a PS3 console so I could stream Netflix through it (this will be a blog topic coming soon).  We set up the living room to be as comfortable as possible and the girls fell asleep watching Stuart Little.  As I got up to go to bed, I discovered that the couch I was going to use in my new house was not so great for my back.  It was the same couch I had before I got married and either it got old or I did.  Either way, a new couch was needed.  Possibly an orthopedic one if they happen to make such a thing.

Saturday morning was spent getting the house cleaned in case anyone wanted to come see it.  It was up for sale although the only way you can tell is by the sign in the front yard, not the steady stream of people looking at it (fail). My Ex and her mom came over to help with the cleaning while the girls played.  Once we were done and I took a shower, the girls and I headed out to lunch and then a movie (Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Dog Days).  We played a couple games in the arcade at the movie theater and had a good time.  My girls love to go to the movies, which is great because I do too.

Afterwards, we did what all kids love to do, furniture shopping!  Since I knew their attention spans were limited, I grabbed a salesperson and had her walk me through all of their couches at a Usain Bolt-type pace.  Luckily there was a special event going on in the store which included a guy playing piano for the customers.  The girls hung around him, asking a million questions and did a little dancing to the songs he was playing.  I felt sorry for the piano player but his loss was my gain. They were occupied.  In about 15 minutes, I narrowed my choices down to two couches and ten minutes later, I was out the door with a receipt for my new couch to be delivered on the Wednesday after I moved in. It felt good to get that done as quickly and as efficiently as I did.  Maybe I should take the girls with me every time I go furniture shopping? Hmmm…probably not.

It rained when we got home, so Saturday evening was dinner, some game playing on the PS3, and another movie (the Eddie Murphy version of Dr. Doolittle).  Sunday morning was a bit lazy as it looked like rain…a little TV watching, a little breakfast, some blog writing, and a round or two of the card game War with my oldest (she loves the game).  Then it was off to run some errands.  The list of things I needed for my new house was growing.  With the Ex and all her stuff out, I could more easily see what I needed.  When I was at my niece’s wedding, my family threw me a Divorce Shower just like the one I talked about in Bed, Bath and Bothered, so I had a handful of Target gift cards to use. 

Once that was done, we went back home just in time for a terrific storm to hit.  It got so bad; we went down into the basement.  My oldest daughter is petrified of storms while my youngest would probably go do cartwheels in them if I let her (I didn’t).  When it finally blew over, we came up from the basement and checked the outside.  A tree blew over and another tree shed a rather large branch…all missed the house, thank goodness. 

I don’t know if it was the storm or just being over-tired, but the girls woke up in the middle of the night screaming so they came up and slept with me…which was fine. Usually I don’t like it because they sleep in such awkward positions (as discussed in Making the Spare Bedroom Your Bedroom, Spare) but since we were down one person in the bed (re: the Ex), it wasn’t bad at all.  In fact, it was nice. 

So nice that when the morning came and I took them to my soon to be ex-mother-in-law’s house, I was sad.  I knew it would be two weeks before I could enjoy them staying the night again and the reality of the situation sunk in. That night found me sitting in the middle of that empty house wondering what went wrong once again as a depression storm took down my relatively sane mood much like the rain storm took down the tree in my backyard. 

I took some deep breaths and tried to get past it because that’s all I can really do.  In Parents Inc., I wondered what type of dad I would be now and how I would handle my time with my girls when I had them.  I’m still not sure I have that answer but I think it’s something close to what we did this weekend.  Activities we can do together but nothing too spectacular.  Just spending time with them and giving them as much attention as I can. 

It wasn’t like it was all butterflies and rainbows while they were here.  They’re still children and children can be a bit frustrating at times but that frustration goes away quickly when you know there’s an even bigger frustration just waiting for you when they leave:  The frustration of being alone.

Next time:  The big move!

Priorities

I don’t spend a lot of time in this blog talking about specific problems or issues my wife and I had. I prefer to touch on my thoughts, feelings and observations without airing any of our “dirty laundry.” Allow me to make an exception with this post but I promise this won’t become a habit. This topic, however, is one I feel strongly about and I need to process it on digital paper.

During what I would consider the beginning of the end of the marriage between my wife and me, it was brought to my attention that I was putting work before my family.  While I was surprised to hear this, I could also see that it was true. I was traveling a lot and even when I was home, I wasn’t “at home;” my mind was often on work matters and not family matters.  I have no excuses for it.  I should not have done it but once it was brought to my attention, I took strides to change and I believe I did (just too late, as I’ve stated before).

During this time I began to think about how I was feeling when I came home from a trip.  A lot of times, it was like I was just a roommate in the house.  I wasn’t in with the routine, they would have plans I didn’t know about and if I tried to discipline the girls for doing something wrong, I was either told to calm down or my wife would just take over as if I didn’t have a say in the matter (not always, but enough times that I noticed it). 

It all kind of boiled down to my wife putting the girls before me.  I didn’t like the way that sounded though…I thought I was being a bit selfish.  After some introspection, I came to the conclusion that, on a broader scale, my wife was putting our children before our marriage.  This fit better.  It was rare we ever had a “date night.” Any conversation we had was about the girls and not about us.  When we would try to have a conversation, the girls would often interrupt and she would tend to them.  Once they were settled, though, we never went back to what we were talking about. 

Still, I felt guilty about thinking this.  Shouldn’t she be putting the girls first?  Shouldn’t I for that matter?  Confused, I consulted my therapist, Dr. Google and was surprised to find that this conflict: “What should be first, the marriage or the children?” is a common one.  I was also surprised to find that the majority of the articles about it were in favor of putting the marriage first and the children second.  Heck, the first 20 results were all in favor of putting the marriage first. 

The bottom line message to all of the articles I read (which must have been about fifty of them), is that when you work on the marriage and the marriage is strong, the children benefit.  It really makes sense. The children see their parents in a loving relationship and feed off of that.  The family unit is stronger and thus your kids will be stronger because of it.  Here are some quotes I found to back this up:

“We believe firmly that raising and nurturing Clara to be a happy and secure child lies in the strong foundation of our own relationship,” says Janine. “The stronger our marriage, the easier and more joyful it is to be a family.” 
(Which Comes First: Marriage or the Kids?)

"Psychiatrist Michelle Goland agrees: "The mistake many moms make is they believe that if they are a good mother, their husband will be fine and he will understand, but in reality, the husband may feel pushed out of the parenting role and begrudgingly gives up trying to have a relationship with his wife."
(Stop Putting Your Kids First)

"I would even go as far as to say that you are raising your kids with some serious deficiencies if they are the center of your universe.  If you don’t show them what a healthy marriage looks like, where will they learn it?  If dad doesn’t make it a priority to spend time with mom, then why would your kids do anything different?  Our kids need to see that our marriages carry the weight of the family.  If that fails, then the family fails."
(What comes first? Kids or Marriage?

I tried to talk to my wife about this but I failed at conveying what I meant.  Because I was stumbling around the topic or just poor communication skills in general, I think what came out was that I put her above the girls.  That the girls were always second place in my book.  Not exactly what I was trying to say and I can see why she may have lost respect for me by hearing it like that.  What I meant was that we needed to put ourselves and our relationship before the girls because a lasting relationship can only be beneficial to our children.  If we don’t have that, we end up…

…well, we end up with a blog like this and a family broken apart.

The point of this blog isn’t to say that I was right.  The point is to send a message to those who are still married and might need this information to help guide you.  I wish this was something I had thought of and researched more thoroughly early on in my marriage.  It’s an easy thing to think that children should be first.  What else would they be?  I prefer to think of putting the marriage first more in line with putting your family first, which includes your children but also includes your spouse. 

Next time:  My First Time

The Emotional Forecast

“…And that’s why you should never mix gardening with nude acupuncture!  Ha ha!  Now let’s turn it over to Kevin for the 5 Day Emotional Forecast.  Kevin?”


“Thanks, Chip.  Well, folks, after a series of nice days, it looks like we’re in for a day or two of deep depression and why wondering.  After that, we’ll see a clearing of false hope followed by a bout of ‘I’ll never marry again.’” 



Ah, if only we could forecast our emotions like this.  Going through the cycle of being okay to depressed to really depressed to feeling pretty good can be exhausting.  If we knew it was coming we could at least be prepared for it.

Initially, my depression days were pretty much every day.  On a graphical representation of my moods, dark clouds with lightning bolts would have been heavily used for at least the ten day forecast, if not the extended one.  I don’t believe there was a sunshine icon used until a month or so after the decision to get a divorce.

Beyond then, it seemed like every other day was a down day and then that turned into every three days, then four, then weekly until finally I was at a point where I would have a morning of depression every couple weeks.  I chronicled the last one in The Healing Walk.  It was during that walk that I thought maybe there was a pattern to my emotions or maybe to everyone’s emotions.  If I could figure out how that pattern worked, document it and then publish that baby, I would make a quadzillion dollars in no time.

Initial analysis made me think that the emotional downbursts were a buildup of sadness over time.  At the start, there is so much sadness that it’s always raining.  Later, as the soul starts to heal, a weak acceptance high pressure system helps to block out the depression but that depression continues to build as its fueled by questions and memories of the good times until, at some point, it pushes out the system that is keeping you moderately sane and hits you like a tornado hitting a trailer park.  Then, like the tides, it ebbs away leaving clear skies of moderate happiness or at the very least, overcast skies but no rain.

The general pit in your stomach that pretty much doesn’t leave for a long while is kind of like the humidity of your pain.  It’s there and it’s bothersome but it doesn’t stop you from living your everyday life.  Unfortunately, that humidity is just the precursor to the sadness storm that’s coming.  I think until you get rid of that constant humidity, you are still in the depression cycle.

If I was more conscious of this while going through it, I would have logged my emotions each day or maybe several times a day just to see if there was a pattern.  It would have been hard to translate, though, since, just like the weather, my emotional state was fairly unpredictable.  I can’t tell you the number of times I felt somewhat normal only to see a picture or hear a song that brought on an emotional outbreak like an afternoon thunderstorm in the Spring.  Having a log may have helped me to track my emotional states so I could see when a downward spiral was coming and then I could batten down the hatches and put plywood up on the windows of my heart.  For me, that would have been putting on my walking shoes and shorts and hitting the pavement.  Walking turned the tumultuous storm into a steady rain and then to a sprinkle and then to complete sunshine.  The longer the walk, the better the outlook.

I’m sure there would be no way to accurately predict when the emotional bad weather would hit much like there’s no way to accurately predict the real weather.  There are, however, people getting paid big bucks to try to do it and they use a model to follow so why not me and the emotional forecast?  If I had an emotional forecast model, I could provide a personal service to help someone each morning predict just how crappy their day is going to be.  Wouldn't that be a nice service to have? 

"Back to you, Chip."

Next time:  Which came first? The marriage or the children?

And Now She's Gone

(Once again, I interrupt the regularly scheduled blog for something more "in the moment")

Yesterday, my wife moved out of our house.

Since they only moved a block away, the girls will probably bounce back and forth as they want until I move out 10 days from now but the person I thought I would be with until I died is now gone and I’m still alive (here’s hoping it stays that way for a while).

I thought this would end up being harder than it was. I thought an extended Healing Walk was going to be needed or fresh box of tissues or, at the very least, a big long hug from someone (although I probably would’ve needed to pay for that service…what’s the going rate for just a hug from a hot prostitute?  I say "hot" prostitute because, really...who wants a skanky one?).

I find myself, however, moderately okay. In Making the Spare Bedroom Your Bedroom, Spare I suggested against staying in the same house with your soon-to-be ex-spouse because it was/is extremely uncomfortable. I am tempted to rescind that piece of advice, though. Not the part about it being uncomfortable. Oh, it was uncomfortable. There was no getting around the built up tension between the two of us on some days. I’m talking about the living together post separation part being the advice I would rescind.

Having to stay with the woman I suddenly found out was no longer interested in keeping me as a husband became like an intense detoxifying program. I was constantly exposed to the reality that we would no longer be together. Day after day, I was slapped in the face with the reality of divorce. That kind of accelerated the healing process. That probably sounds a little weird, doesn’t it? I will try to explain but I was kind of surprised by it myself.

I believe that if I had moved out immediately and went into seclusion (which is what I initially told my wife I was going to do); I think it would have been a harder and a longer process to get over the relationship. My state of mind would have been frozen at the point of realization that my marriage was over and the love for my wife would have been trapped in emotional amber, not being able to dissolve itself. The buzzing of questions on “Why?” and “What happened?” would have taken longer to go away because I would have only been able to focus on those questions in that point of time, searching for those answers and nothing else. Since we were financially and thus physically bound to be together, however, the time made me continually face the fact that I was getting the divorce. Seeing my soon to be ex every day forced me to realize it was over and I found the love I had for her slowly draining away through tension, opened eyes and cold reality.  I had to confront the hard feelings and deal with them immediately. Sure, this meant a lot of depression, crying, and rendering of garments but now that we have reached this point where we are physically apart, I feel that I am emotionally apart as well.

Other than just facing up to the hardship, I also took a lot of deep breaths and counting to ten when I felt like blowing up at her. We had to live together along with our children so getting into a clash every time she left a pile of dirty dishes in the sink or when I thought about why she gave up on the marriage would have made a difficult situation completely unbearable. So, I swallowed my pride (and a fair amount of anger) and turned the other cheek…not always, but a lot. I think this helped me to accept the reality of the situation; to understand that there wasn’t anything I could say or action I could take to change the road we were on. The intersection that may have allowed that was long and far away in the rear view mirror.

Thus, I reached a point to where I simply didn’t care about answering those ever-buzzing questions. It was like I had become immune to the pain or more accurately, I no longer had the pain. I believe I reached that mindset much quicker by living with her than I would have by being alone.

Does this mean I’m completely healed? That I’m cured of this disease called “divorce?” No, I don’t think so. I’m sure there will be relapses and times where conflict will overcome the peace. Those times will most assuredly happen when my daughters come to visit and then leave but I think I’ll delve into that in a separate blog.

For now I will breathe in the silence and the emptiness of the house but feel that everything will be all right. I have already fought the battle of being alone by not being alone. Now was the time to live it.

My wife physically leaving isn't the end of the story.

It’s just the beginning.



Next time: What is the Emotional 5 Day Forecast?
_______________________________________________________________________________

Soul Music

When the problems with my marriage started to become more reality than paranoia, I began to get fearful that it would affect my music.  Weird statement? Perhaps, but read on, true believer…
I love music.  I love to listen to it.  I love to sing it.  Many a concert has been given for none but me in my living room.  I believe songs are the placeholders in our lives.  As we go through significant periods in our life, the music we listened to during those times become associated with the memories.  A sound track, if you will. 


For me, I’ll hear a song from the early 80’s and instantly be transported back to my high school days.  I think this probably happens to everyone.  You have songs associated with each girlfriend (or boyfriend), proms you went to, break-ups you’ve had, even new jobs. 


So I was afraid of two things:  new music I was listening to during my divorce becoming associated (and forever tainted) by the divorce and music I listened to when my wife and I were first falling in love becoming too painful to listen to now. 


For today’s music, that isn’t too hard because there have only been two new albums I’ve listened to since this started:  Counting Crows Underwater Sunshine and Train’s California 37.  I was more concerned about Train because that’s been a band both my wife and I have liked and listened to together quite often.   I guess only time will tell if I associate the songs from those albums with my divorce but there is one off California 37 that will probably touch me in the future,  When the Fog Rolls In:

I take a deep breath with my hand on the door
Afraid 'cause I'm not gonna see you anymore
These were our tender years, this was our street
All of our stoplights and all our concrete
Now it's all somebody else's to take
Until the fog rolls in

Oo oo oo and now we're through

I am happy to report that, so far, the songs I was listening to when my wife and I got together haven’t been impacted by the divorce…well, almost.  There are two songs that I cannot listen to yet but hope to in time.  One was our wedding song, Don Henley’s For My Wedding.  As I have expressed before, Don Henley is one of my all-time favorite artists and having to avoid something from his body of work will be a crime.  I’m sure I’ll be able to listen to it again as some point but for now, I’ll leave it as a blog quote (from Open Letter to My Niece).  

The second song I won’t name here but it was a special one my wife and I shared and I really don’t think I will ever be able to listen to that one again.  That’s sad because it’s a good song but there are too many memories wrapped up in it from the time we were falling in love.  The song even has lyrics that apply to our current situation, which taints it even more.  In some ways, I feel like I’m losing just a little bit of my soul by not having that song in my life anymore.  Yes, it held that much weight. 


There are others that make me pause when they start playing but I’ve been able to listen to them.  One I mentioned in The Discord of the Ring, The Heart of the Matter, also by Don Henley.  Since the divorce, I haven’t been able to get through that one without tearing up.  It’s been a while since it’s come back up on my shuffle playlist and I’m hoping I’ll be okay when it does rotate through again.


Even though I thought it would be tough to listen to my music for fear of dredging up sad emotions or tainting it, I forced myself to do it and I’m glad I did.  Albert Schweitzer wrote:  “The only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats…”  I don’t own a cat (yet…potential blog topic, btw) but I do own music.  The music did help me escape and at the same time cope with what was going on. 


I’ll end this with yet another quote from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K Rowling : 

“Ah, music!  A magic far beyond all we do here!”


Magic indeed.

Next time: What’s the emotional 5 day forecast?

The Two of Me

For me,  the idea of divorce at first was a hope that the threat of it would bring out counseling and therapy to help save the marriage.  You see, I was the one who asked for the divorce, not my wife.  This may not have been clear in my previous blogs.  As I have written before (most notably in Why? and Relationship Update), I could tell she no longer loved me.  We already had one incident some months back where we said we would work on what we were doing wrong in the marriage.  From my perspective, that really turned out to be just me working on what I was doing wrong (working too much, traveling too much, not being there for her and the girls).  I’m not sure what she did during that time but truth is she was already gone by that point. 

Anyway, I popped the question of divorce hoping it would kind of slap her into the reality that she was letting her marriage slip away. 

By the way, you never see videos of people asking for a divorce.  Once again, we are inundated with videos of men asking their girlfriends to be their wife but I don’t remember seeing one where a couple is at a game and on the Jumbotron the husband asks his wife to not be that anymore (or vice versa).  Another service for the Divorce Shower, perhaps.

Back to me asking for the divorce:  Maybe if I had done it a year earlier, it would have helped, I really don’t know.  When I did ask, she was initially shocked but never fought it.  She basically said OK and off we went.  It was at this point, the “First Me” came out.

First Me was a sniveling, selfish, whiney, “Why me?” wreck of a man.  For the first two weeks after, there wasn’t a day he didn’t cry.  He spent time shouting at his wife wondering how she could have done this.  It wasn’t his fault they were where they were, it was hers.  There was one time First Me was on the phone with his wife and insisted she tell him what he did wrong even though she was with their youngest daughter at the time. “So what?” First Me shouted and was, rightly so, hung up on. 

First Me was also the one who came up with the brilliant idea to just move away.  Again, this was all the wife’s fault.  She didn’t want to work on the marriage so naturally, he had to move back to Texas where he used to live because he moved to NEPA for her and the girls and now that was all gone so why stay?  He had friends back in Texas.  He needed those friends.  He was leaving and it was her fault he would never see his kids again.

Sigh.

I deeply regret ever becoming First Me and I would apologize to my wife for the way I behaved but she has told me she doesn't read this blog, so instead, I will apologize to myself.

<Side Note>  If I knew my wife was writing a blog about her divorce experience, I would be reading every last word of that thing and trying to read in between the lines to find a hidden message.  I would even read it backwards to see if there was something subliminal in it just like they did back in the day with record albums. </Side Note>

I suppose, though, when faced with this type of life changing event, it’s somewhat natural to lash out.  Perhaps it’s even healthy to a point.  Still, it bothers me that I fell so low.  But when you reach such a low point, all you can do is go up and that’s when Second Me came out. 

Second Me was the much more thoughtful and reflective side of my post-divorce persona.  Second Me realized that while she had a fair share of blame, he also had responsibility for things getting as bad as they did.  The divorce wasn't this one thing or that one thing, it was a combination of different things that wrapped itself around the marriage until it choked the life out of it.

Second Me also spent time not as much wondering why but wondering what’s next?  The Second Me started this blog to help cope with what was going on in his head.  He tried to be as civil as he could when around his wife and also tried to spend as much time as he could with his children since he knew that time would end up being limited very soon.

Confident that his life wasn’t over was another trait of Second Me.  Finding a house, knowing that he will still be a father to his girls in the best possible way he could, and establishing a new life as a single man helped get Second Me through each day.

Unfortunately, there were times when First Me made an appearance and took down Second Me (one such time detailed in The Healing Walk).   I think back to the Incredible Hulk TV series from the late 70’s/early 80’s.  First Me was my Hulk and I needed to find a way to control the raging spirit that dwelled within me. 

So far, I think Second Me is maintaining control.  Even if First Me comes out, I know how to deal with it to put him back inside.  I don’t begrudge First Me.  He was a part of the process but he was the first part…I’m now in the second part and looking forward to the third, and hopefully last, part of the ordeal where First Me is but a memory, Second Me is a comforting friend and Third Me is the one the world sees. 

I look forward to meeting the Third Me.  Hope everyone else will too.

Next time:  I didn’t have to throw away my iPod

Packing It In

I really hate to pack.

If only I had come up with my Pre-Boxtial agreement (as described in Storage Wars: The Divorce) before we moved into our house.  The packing wouldn’t be so bad.  Alas, I did not so hand me that bubble wrap, would you?

Who came up with bubble wrap anyway?  I have this giant roll that I paid $15 for and once I’m done unpacking, I will no doubt throw it away (okay, maybe after I spend 45 minutes popping the bubbles).  Is that a good deal?  I guess if all of my stuff makes it over to my new place without being broken; it will be a good deal.  I think the items I am wrapping in the $15 bubble wrap are worth more than that…collectively at any rate.

When I bought the bubble wrap I was hit once again with the “consumer choice” dilemma:  Do I get the small bubbles or the big bubbles?  Do I buy the small roll or the big roll?  Do I want it clear or  green or blue or red?  Although now that I think of it, having the color coded bubble wrap would fit in nicely with having the husband’s stuff separated from the wife’s stuff.  I must make a note to update my legal document.

Armed with bubble wrap, boxes (which also aren’t cheap) and tape, I started taking down pictures, getting stuff out of closets and cabinets and drawers and from the various places we put stuff.  The late, great George Carlin once said: “A house is just a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get more stuff.”  That is no more apparent than when packing your stuff.   We did a darn good job in going out and getting more stuff.  I wonder how many more times I can stuff the word “stuff” into this paragraph?

The other part of this particular packing event was the fact that I was only moving 20 minutes away.  My wife was moving less than 2 minutes away.  Did we really need to go crazy with all the packing?  Experience says yes.  My luck travels along the path of whatever can go wrong will go wrong…I think it’s like a law or something.  So while I may think I can stack up all my framed pictures, put them in the back of my truck and get to my new house without any problem, the truth is I will get to my new house with a million shards of class and ruined pictures.

Thinking I was making things easier, I got one of those tape dispensers that allows you to apply the tape in one deft motion across the box and then cuts the tape cleanly and quickly when you are done.  Yeah, right.  That works about once every three attempts.  Most of the time, the tape doesn’t cut and you have a rolled up, stuck together tail of tape hanging onto the side of the box.  Either that or the tape sticks to the metal guide.  And when I say “sticks” I mean bonds like a leech to the soft underbelly of one of the stars of “Swap People.” 

Since I’m not physically moving for another couple weeks, I have been storing my boxes and some of the furniture I’m taking in the garage.  This meant I parked my truck out on the driveway and my side of the garage slowly filled up with possessions being moved from one stage of my life to the next stage.  Actually, it’s interesting because a good portion of what I am taking away from the marriage is stuff I brought into this marriage. 

I guess that’s somewhat fitting, isn’t it?  I’m traveling this highway of life with certain possessions and even though I may take an exit that diverts me for a while, I return carrying much of the same stuff I had before. 

Except for the bubble wrap.  Always get new bubble wrap because if you don’t and it becomes a while in between exits, you’ll essentially have only wrap with no bubble.

Next time:  Two Face

Parents, Inc.

Parenting gets put into a different light when a divorce comes around.  Yes, once again, I have released news that has never been considered before.  I would say “Stop the presses” but that would technically mean shutting down the Internet .  I, however, am in the middle of a Words with Friends game and I need that connection to figure out how to spell a word with 4 E’s, 2 A’s, and a J.

Regardless of the newsworthiness of what I said in the previous paragraph, parenting plans are altered when the mother and father no longer want to live together.  The original plan was to raise the children as a byproduct of the parents love for each other and the desire to bring the kids up in that love (at least that’s what it was for me…we may explore this particular topic in a later blog).  Since that love no longer exists, the rules of parenting have to change.  Marriage is supposed to be this great partnership but when divorce happens and children are involved, the partnership still has to be there, but it must become more business-like.  And the business is raising your kids in the best possible manner despite the unusual circumstances.

Let’s take a look at the roles of this new partnership.  The kids are easy:  they are the product we want to put out into the world.  If we are successful with our planning, development, testing and implementation, we will have two finely tuned and environment ready people that will go into the world and hopefully be something even more than what we initially rolled out.

My wife (or the primary caregiver as she is referred to in all the legal documents produced from the divorce) also has a clearly defined role.  Hers is handling the everyday maintenance of the children: get them up, get them dressed, care for their teeth, hair and skin, properly feed them at the appropriate times, make sure they go to bed, also at the appropriate times, and, most importantly, love them.

Ongoing discipline for when the “product” misbehaves is also under her umbrella of responsibility.  When they talk back or get into fights or lie or cheat in Candy Land, she will need to take corrective action to ensure they don’t hit the streets as liars or cheaters or worse, both.

The mother has to run the project plan and make sure every minor and major milestone of the children’s development is met. 

For me, the divorced father or secondary care-giver … which has a less than desirable connotation to it … the role is a bit different.  Yes, I am still responsible for maintaining the proper development of the child in the same manner as the primary care-giver but since my time with them is limited (essentially, a little more than a third of a year), I’m playing more the role of a consultant.  I have this background in raising and loving my daughters but since I have a limited engagement with them, I need to pass on as much as I can in that short amount of time. 

I’ve heard the term “Disney Dad” which is a part time father who compensates on the time missed with his children by giving them what they want, taking them to all kinds of fun places and basically spoiling the heck out of them.  In reading the definition, I didn’t want to do that but I completely understood it.  The desire to show the kids that Daddy is the "Fun Parent" is incredibly strong and will be hard not to do when you only see them every other weekend.  Since I have such limited time with them I want to make the most of that time but not to the detriment of the child.  Spoiling them is not making them ready for the world … it’s putting them at a disadvantage. 

So what do I do? I don’t want them to come over for the weekend and then spend all the time watching TV while I mow the lawn which may have been a typical way we would spend a Saturday when we all lived under the same roof all the time.  But I also don’t want every weekend to be full of Chuck E Cheese and amusement part visits.  I want that to happen some of the time, but not all of the time.  I need to balance the fun stuff with the… well, with the what?   I think that’s the question. 

And unfortunately, it’s a question I do not currently have the answer to.  I need to spend more time in R&D developing the right combination of fun and time well spent.  I’ll need to conduct several SCRUM sessions to discover where I am in this process.  If I apply an agile methodology to my development process, I’ll be able to see the effects of my current plan, tinker as needed, and then reapply.  As I come up with my proof of concepts, I’ll report back here so you can provide some market analysis on my methods. 

Aw shoot.  I guess I could just love them.  That’s been a tried and true business model for developing people for a very long time.  Why mess with that?

Next time: I wrap about bubbles.

House Hunters: NEPA

Completely unwanted and definitely unprepared for, I found myself searching for a new house.   Neither my wife nor I could afford to stay in our existing house so we had to sell it and get new places for ourselves.  Truth is, even if I could have afforded to stay in our house, I would not have.  Walking through the hallways that was once filled with love, now brimming with the stark coldness of a failed marriage would be pretty depressing.  Just writing that sentence was pretty depressing.

In my quest for new living arrangements, I immediately discounted the notion of moving into an apartment.  When we moved into the Northeast Pennsylvania area (NEPA), we lived in an apartment for about a year while our house was being built.  I told myself that was the last time I would do that and even thrust into a situation I never expected to be in; I intended to remain true to that vow.

So, the search for my own house began.  I’ll explore the “Two of Me” that came out during the divorce in a later blog, but part of the “First Me” wanted to move back to Texas where we lived before moving to NEPA.  I figured getting a house there would be easy, I knew the area well, and I had friends and family there.  It was a natural fit.  It was also the stupidest idea I ever pondered.  I would have missed my daughters within ten minutes of setting foot on Texas soil.

And seriously, did I really want to experience 40+ days of 100+ degrees in the summer again?  No offense to my Texas brethren, but no thank you. In NEPA, a heat wave is two days in a row over 90 degrees.  The area experienced a definitive change in the seasons and I actually enjoyed snow, so why would I want to move away?  Just so I wouldn’t have the rare chance encounter with my ex-wife in a grocery store?  Ridiculous.  I loved the area and it was my new home.  Plus, my kids were here.  Did I really need any other reasons?  I think not.

So, the search for my own house began…wait…did I already say that?  I think I did but this time I mean it.  I knew I wanted to get something with woods around it.  I wanted to be closer to nature so I looked into houses in the more mountainous areas of NEPA, specifically the Poconos.  Unfortunately, that area was about an hour away from where my daughters would be living.  I didn’t want to be on top of them but I didn’t want to be too far either. 

Funny how I even considered moving to Texas, a 3 hour plane ride away, and here I was being bothered by an hour drive away.  I am an enigma wrapped in a mystery and deep fried in season 3 of Murder, She Wrote. 

Luckily, I discovered an area about 20 minutes away from my girls and was in a lake community.  This meant activities to help me get my new life started on the right foot.  There was hiking, an indoor pool, a beach by the lake, kayaking, racquetball (yes, racquetball…hey, the 1980’s called.  They want their sport back), and other things to keep me and my girls (when they were with me) occupied. 

I had found the perfect location as far as scenery and recreation but what about the homes?  Since it had been a while since I looked for a house, I forgot what a hassle it can be.  With listings online, you’d think it would be easier, but I don’t know how many houses I browsed that had very few pictures posted with the listing or had none at all.  Why would you even bother putting it on line if you are not going to add pictures?  I don’t believe it costs any extra. On the other hand, you can’t judge it solely on the pictures because a lot of times the room looks huge in the picture but when you go see it “live” you discover you almost thought about buying a house with a living room the size of Mr. Rogers' sweater closet.

Speaking of pictures, one thing that bothered me while looking through what felt like hundreds of houses on line: why, when taking pictures of the bedroom, is the camera mainly focused on the bed?  I’m not buying the bed, I’m buying the room it’s in.  I know it can be hard to get the whole room in a single shot but most of these shots had the bed centered in the photograph. Is the thought, “Look, we got a bed in here. What more do you want to know about the room?”

The other problem was that I had no idea what type of house I wanted.  Obviously not too big but not too small either.  Even though the wife will have primary custody of the girls, they were still going to come over and I wanted to have room for them to grow. I liked the looks of the chalet style house (think ski lodge) and there were plenty to choose from in the area I was looking in.  Unfortunately, they were either too old, too dirty, too hot (no A/C...we don't have days on days of extreme heat but we still need that conditioned air in mid-summer) or too boastful (one said it was a three bedroom but the third bedroom was a loft with a closet no wider than a hallway).  I was also very keen on the resale value.  I didn’t know what the future held (and history was telling me I never would) so I didn’t want to settle on something that would be hard to sell later. 

I finally found what I think is just about the perfect house.  It came with an empty lot next to it and nothing is behind me except for a slowly escalating slope with hiking trails.  There is plenty of room for me and the girls, the resale potential is great and … well, to be honest, I can’t wait to move in.  I believe this to be the greatest feature of this house:  the ability to see that there is still a life to be lived after divorce.  It’s not like I didn’t know that but it’s hard to get excited about something when you haven’t felt even remotely happy for the past few months.  Then something like this comes along and restores a little faith.

Maybe this should be part of the selling description:  "3 bedroom, two story house with office and hopes for a better tomorrow."  Then show a picture of the master bedroom but only show the bed.  That seems to be important as well.

Next time: The business of parenting

The Healing Walk

Blogger’s Note:  Inserting a different blog here from what I promised at the end of the last blog.  Oh and if you enjoy reading my blogs and don’t want to miss a single one, enter your email address in the box to the right and you will get notified when a new one comes up!  I should’ve had that on day one but I’m just learning the tricks of the Blog World.  Now, on with my whining!  :) 

I think I jinxed myself.

In my previous blog, Anything But Normal, I “bragged” about being able to control and put up on a cabinet shelf the deluge of questions that frequently came up about what went wrong between me and my wife.  Well, I apparently don’t have that much control.  I woke up around 11:30 last night (after going to bed at 10:30) and did not go back to sleep until around 2:30 because of the constant buzzing in my head. 

The buzzing continued when I woke up at 6:30 and proceeded to get worse until I was practically incapacitated by around 10ish.  I know I lose man points when I admit to crying but I’m confident enough in the points I have left to take that chance.  Yes, after probably a couple week dry spell, I broke down.  Why?  I don’t know.  That’s the problem with the buzzing…it never has any real answers just questions.  I decided, however, instead of just sitting there wondering when the tears would stop, I would do something about it.  So, I took the advice of a good friend and went for a walk.

Prior to all this divorce stuff, I was pretty active in the P90X circuit.  I was about two months into the program and had lost about 10 pounds and starting to notice the weight coming off.  I store my fat in my face and in my belly.   That’s it.  Nothing else seems to get the attention of my fat cells.  I, however, had a better weight loss plan than Tony Horton and P90X.  I had … the Divorce Diet!  Yes, in just one month, I lost 15 pounds.  It’s amazing what simply not eating will do to your waistline.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t been doing P90X since finding out that I was getting a divorce.  I just didn’t have the desire or time to fit it in.  I was spending a lot of time just staring into space or working on divorce papers or finding another house and that time took away from work so I need to catch up.  To do that, something had to give and it was the exercise.

This morning, however, I needed the exercise.  I needed the activity to help me battle the buzzing.

So, I walked and walked hard.

I thought about when I started exercising in earnest.  More specifically when I started training for my first and only 5K.  I did it because I sensed a gap forming between me and my wife as she was and is an active runner.  I thought maybe we could bridge that gap by running together.  I hate running, though.  Hurts my knees and I could never sustain enough stamina to keep running. I constantly started and stopped.  I sucked on my 5K and the truth was, she didn't need me as a running partner.  She had other friends who could keep up with her.  I did keep up with the exercise, though.  I worked out each morning.  I got a good sweat going and sent her pictures to prove I was doing it.  I thought it would make a difference.  It didn’t.   Well, it didn’t in our relationship but it did for me and my health.  I am probably in the best shape I’ve been in years and that’s a good thing…especially when you have kids that are MUCH younger than you. 

I kept walking.

I wished I knew how to turn off my brain or at least how to stop the buzzing.  I don’t know if it takes drugs or drinking…those probably aren’t good options but I sure would be up for something.  I thought I was through all this…all the staying up at night thinking about what could have been or what was.  Maybe I was still on Prague time since I just came back from a week there or maybe I was simply not as far along in the healing process as I thought I was.  Whatever the reason, the walk was definitely helping.

So, I kept walking.

I thought about the stuff that was buzzing in my head.  It was all the usual questions of “Why” and “How did this happen?”  The stuff I really will never have any answers to but they kept coming up.  I think I was focusing this time on what my wife was thinking.  Did she have the same type of feelings?  Did she also have a constant pit in her stomach?  Did she lose sleep?  Was she even upset about it at all?  These questions are generally unfair and I really don’t like speculating on what’s going on in her head.  I do think that she has better reign on her emotions, though.  Still, I wonder if she ever thinks about how she let it get this way.  I know that sounds like I’m placing blame on her but I’m not trying to do that.  I know I missed out on opportunities to recognize problems and to work on them but I can’t take all the responsibility and that’s where I'm asking (in my head) what responsibility was she taking.  She has admitted she should have talked about her unhappiness but that’s the extent of it.  I get mad at her because I don’t see her in the same moods I get into.  She doesn’t seem to be as remorseful or guilt ridden or sad about these things.  I suppose,  again, is that she’s better at hiding it and me getting mad about it isn't helping anyone...least of all me.

What about me?  Can I hide my emotions?  No.  No way.  When I was younger, I used to think I was Mr. Cool.  Mr. Emotionless.  No one could read me, man.  Right.  I was actually Mr. Heart On My Sleeve.  I was and am blatantly obvious with my emotions.  So much so Stevie Wonder could read me.  If I’m sad, people know.  If I’m mad, people know.  I would have made a terrible spy.  I wish had my wife’s emotional control.

I kept on walking.

My brain was starting to get as tired as my legs.  I realized I had been walking for about two hours.  The sweat was pouring out of me…stinging my eyes.  This was all good although I wished I had planned my walk better.  I would have chosen running shorts and a lighter t-shirt but it was a spontaneous thing.  It won’t be the next time…which will be tomorrow.  I need to keep going on these walks or getting back into P90X.  I think the sweat that is leaving my body is also washing out each “worry” or “question” or “wonder” or “what if” that makes up the buzzing. 

Leaving those things in the cabinet I was storing them in was wrong.  These questions don’t need to be stored away.

They need to be let go.

Next time:  The hunt for the house

Anything but Normal

This probably won’t come as a big surprise to most of you but I really wasn’t prepared to go through a separation and divorce.  While I sensed there were problems, I didn’t think we were at DEFCON 1.  I certainly wasn’t prepared for the toll they were going to take on my emotions.   I may have been strong one day but the next I was as weak as Superman in a room made out of Kryptonite. 

Since I wasn’t able to move into my own place (as told in Making the Spare Bedroom Your Bedroom, Spare), I had to reside with a woman who no longer loved me and try to get on with my everyday routine.  Truth was, I just wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there; away from her, the situation, the routine, everything.  Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) I couldn’t do that…I suppose I could have but there is no way that would have been healthy.  Making McDonald’s my breakfast, lunch, dinner and late night snack for a year would have been healthier than that.

What struck me the most is how it wasn’t the big things that got me thinking about that rock.  I handled issues about visitations rights, custody, child support, the separation of our stuff and filing all the divorce papers with a relative amount of sanity. 

But when it came to the small stuff…

The everyday stuff…

The normal stuff…

…well, that’s when it got to me.  “Hey, how about we grill some steaks tonight?” or “Do you want a cup of coffee?”   The normal talk two married people have would make me go dark and silent.  I kept thinking we shouldn’t have this type of conversation.  Our situation was not normal and thus normal conversation should be banned.  We should be feeling sad or mad or guilty or embarrassed…anything but normal.

Why would I have a problem with the normal stuff?  I had to think about this one for a bit but I believe it comes down to the fact that talking normal led to feeling like things WERE normal.  For example, a few Saturdays ago, our daughters were in a dance recital.  We drove separate cars, mainly because I planned on going to a local home improvement warehouse afterwards, but, if I’m being honest, it’s just more comfortable that way.  My wife’s mom and step-dad came and it brought great joy to us to see our daughters dancing up on stage. 

Afterwards (and this is a three hour afterwards…dance recitals can be long), my wife asked if I wanted to go to dinner with her and the girls.  My initial reaction was to say no but I was hungry and decided to go.  While having dinner, the subject of going to the movies came up and the next thing you know, we all went to the movies.

The worst possible thing happened that night:  We had a good time. (insert dramatic music here..something like "Da-da-duummmmmmmm")

Having a good time leads to those ever familiar and dreaded questions:  “Why did we let it get so bad?  Doesn’t she like times like these?  Won’t she miss these times?  What the hell happened?”  The buzzing crept back into my head.

Fortunately, I had a lot of practice with these questions.  I was getting pretty good at controlling them, putting them on the shelf and shutting the cabinet door on them.  I realized whatever we were experiencing at the time was a momentary thing.  The way we were was no longer and we had to deal with the way it was.  Early on in the situation, I would have been considerably depressed for a few days over something like this but I guess I was starting to heal.  It was still sad but it was no longer devastating. 

I also avoided talking about events outside of us, the children or the divorce.  I needed to stop sharing that type of personal stuff because, again, it would make our situation feel normal.  My dad had back surgery while we were in the middle of finalizing the divorce agreement and I was worried about him.  I sent my wife an email about it and I regretted it the second I clicked the Send button.  I was reaching out to her for comfort and I realized I had to stop doing that.  I either needed to turn to other sources for that type of comfort or just comfort myself. 

In addition to bad news, I also didn’t like to share good news or just regular, everyday “news.”  As anyone would do, I spent time chatting with my neighbors.  Normally, after having conversations like this, I would talk to my wife about some of the things “the guys” and I talked about but not anymore.  Why?  Well, it’s that word again: “normal.”  I just couldn’t talk about anything other than the divorce and child matters because I didn’t want things to feel normal. 

Were my wife and I still friends?  It’s a question I still wonder about.  I wouldn’t say we were enemies but “friends” didn’t seem right either.  There’s a certain air of normalcy to being friends…we were more “very familiar acquaintances.”  I think that best sums it up. 

I do wonder if we’ll ever get back to having “normal talk.”  We still have the job of raising our children so we must communicate at some level but will we be able to conduct normal talk?  If we do, then I know it will a sign of healing.  One that means a step closer towards forgiveness and starting over has been taken with the person I was once “one” with. We’ll never be that “one” again but maybe we can be that “two.”  Two people who can simply talk.

What could be more normal than that?

Next time:  The hunt for the house