I have to remember batteries today so that I can take pictures of the gorgeous new fiber from String Theory (who, btw, got Yarn Pr0ned by Lime n Violet two shows ago) and other yarny goodness that wants its picture taken.
I also have to remember to drag the girls and myself down to the Sears and Roebuck (does saying it this way date me or prove I am from a small rural town where we'd go and order from the catalog because there was no actual *store* for half the stuff they sold?) to have our pictures taken before they leave for camp in two weeks. We are still a family. I need something to remind myself of that while they're gone.
Another evening of being too tired/sore to cook dinner, so I ate granola and fruit while the children foraged for leftover pizza and guacamole. Another night of tossing and turning and glaring at the digital clock which insisted on telling me what time it was and it kept getting later and later, so I could get angsty about having to be up at 5:30. Another morning of sleeping over my alarm, having to rush and being late to work. Doing that means I don't have time to ride my bike and must drive, which is ridiculous because I live 5 blocks away and there's no reason to drive.
The more the ex Mr. YP seems to be having a "normal" life, the more angry and resentful I find myself sometimes. I am so damn angry some days and I'm not exactly sure why. I think that's just part of watching your ex move on. I think it's normal. That whole, grieving process thing. It includes anger iirc. I sure hope it's normal because that's where I'm at.
One thing I am coming to terms with and perhaps why I am so angry in part is how short I sold myself for the decade of our marriage. I never thought I was good enough to ask for/demand what I needed. I didn't ask for his respect and I didn't respect myself. I didn't stand up and demand to be an equal. I thought I was "lucky" that he married me and "saved" me from a life of spinsterhood and single motherhood and I never wanted to rock that boat. I sold myself out. I sold myself short. And when he would complain that I was not Action Adventure Wife, I would feel guilty and bad and broken. But the truth is? I was not broken. I was okay the way I was. I didn't have to be guilty or grateful. He never saved me. I didn't need saving. It would have been okay to be a single mom. I'd have managed. I am managing now, thank you. It is not the end of the world, I am not a second class citizen, single motherhood does not make me immoral and all the things that marriage "saved" me from have turned out to be false fears.
When I said "I do." and did not place high expectations on our partnership because of all that, I sold myself out. I was pathetically grateful and that translates to "pathetic" in the end. In fairness, I know he tried. So did I. I think he was just as bewildered and hurt at all the places it didn't work, as me. I can't say it was his fault. It wasn't. We created the relationship together and neither of us understood the places where we were broken. In the end, a lot of my anger is at myself for not valuing myself the way I should have.
It really makes you think about what and where you need to be in order to create a healthy foundation and a healthy relationship. And how far we can be from that, but because we need love, touch and companionship, we still try, we still want, we still find other people and do our best. Sometimes we fall down. Sometimes we limp. Sometimes it works anyway. Sometimes it doesn't. We just keep trying.