Happy birthday, beautiful boy

My sweet little bug,
Today at lunch, you crawled on my lap, wiped the ketchup from your mouth with your hand, leaned in close and whispered to me, "Am I four yet?"

Oh yes, Lil E. Today you are four. FOUR! I remember in the early days when you were snuggled in the sling, head warm and hands wrapped around my waist, that I saw a line of preschoolers holding on to a rope and singing and skipping and falling over each other and talking in that inevitable small child squeal. I brushed a bit of hair from your forehead, pulled you in closer and thought to myself what big kids those were, how much I wanted to hold tight to you as a baby while I could.

The truth is, I have loved every year, every month, every week. We've had our tough days, our trying hours, sure. But each stage has its own delight and curiosity and wonder and I have loved being witness to you talking and teetering into a walk and running and now jumping. From the day you were born, just as sunny and warm and blue-skied as today, I've been discovering who you are as you discover the world around you. As your world grows, as you grow, so do I.

I've learned to be still in the moment more with you. I've learned that giggling is good and snuggling is centering. I've learned that a nightly prayer and a morning routine and an afternoon nap are all rituals that matter. I've learned that I do not have all the answers and reconfirmed that I am not perfect. I've learned that the spirit of a person is present when they are born and gets bigger as time goes on. I've learned that I can be far more in love than I ever imagined, stronger than I ever dreamed and more protective than I would have ever thought I'd need to be.

You are busy learning to read and write and memorize dinosaur names. You are working hard at skipping and riding a bike and pushing off on your scooter. You are kind and silly and intuitive and, as your new teacher says, tell very cool stories.

This year, your life has changed and you, sweet boy, have navigated it like a little wooden boat in the water. When the waves have come, they have sometimes been overwhelming, but you have stayed afloat.

We've had tears and tough conversations, but our life and its daily-ness has continued on. Still, we have had an incredible year. And today, we had an incredible morning and afternoon. You are with your daddy now for another birthday celebration, and as much as I wish you were home with me, I am so happy you have so many people who love you so much. I know that love will guide you as you keep on in the years ahead.

I can't imagine what you will be like next year or in three years or many years beyond that, just as I couldn't that day when I saw the four-year olds pass by when you were sleeping in the sling. I'm just to busy enjoying and exhausted by and keeping up with the boy you are today.

And today, you are four.

My wish for you is that you will keep growing into yourself with the same wild abandon, same wide-eyed questioning, same crazy dances, same sense of humor and convoluted explanations, same sage intuition and shallow-breathed deep sleep. So that your spirit keeps shining, keeps taking up the entire room. So that each year, only more is possible.  So that, as your life and your world expand, you have the courage to explore it and the centeredness to return to your safe harbor here at home.

I just love you so much, Lil E. Happy, happy four!

Love,
Mama.

Click to read more ...

This is not a shoe blog: Hooker shoes with bottle openers in the heels?! GENIUS!

I think it's time for a little shoe relief up in here.

In all of the division of property, there has never been a single mention of my shoes. Can you believe it?! What in the world is the Almost-Ex doing with all that empty closet floor real estate?

Oh yeah. I almost forgot he rivaled me in shoes. Of course, mine are mostly too-high, too-pointy phenomenal whore shoes that look great all day and feel great for ten minutes, and his are stinky, disgusting athlete's foot-ridden cross-trainers, but still. I'm sure sometimes he glances down at the closet floor and a little tear spontaneously, gently rolls down his cheek and falls with the slightest sound upon his Dr. Scholl's inserts and he feels sentimental, nostalgic, wanting of all those rows and rows of fabulously grrrly footwear.

Life goes on, I guess. Shoes keep on walking.

Since I've had enough of the divorce downer stuff for a bit, I thought I'd shift gears and share some shoes. Who isn't made happier by looking at shoes? Especially these shoes:

They come with a bottle opener built into the heels! Who knew?!

So practical! So perfect for a picnic!

I bet you can get these lucite lovelies on an end-of-season sale now and be prepared for all of next summer's special outdoor occasions.

Fun for the whole family!

Plus, think of how giggly good it will feel to see a purchase from "bootycocktails.com" come up on your credit card bill.

See? Now don't we all feel better?

Click to read more ...

Please God, just get me divorced

As we rode the elevator with my attorney down from the court room yesterday, she turned to me with a half-smile and said, "Well, today was in our favor."

I smiled back. In some regards, it was true. The judge agreed with us on all the financial points my attorney presented. I just wished it all felt more victorious.

That's because, as my wise friend Karen says, no one wins in divorce. You sacrifice things just to get the hell out, and sometimes those sacrifices aren't fair or even reasonable.  As much as I wanted to feel high from a judge saying that I am, in fact, entitled to the full amount of child support owed to me and that each parent should pay half of tuition and that it is not my responsibility to pay all the marital bills I covered when I left just to dig us out of financial despair, I didn't.

I felt more of an adrenaline rush because I yelled.

I felt good leaving the courtroom because I stood my ground when the Almost-Ex and his attorney began scrutinizing the bills I paid, when the issue of how our son would divide up his time on his birthday became an argument about how I do not ever put my son first. Then, I yelled. And even after the bailiff asked me to quiet down, we stepped out into the hallway and I stood taller, spoke firmer.

While I normally prefer for my attorney to speak for me in these situations, there was a pause and I knew I could no longer speak in the measured way I do now when there is so much talk talk talk talk. In that pause, I said my peace.

This all sounds more dramatic than it actually was. Really, it was a woman in pearls fighting back against the inadequacy that has kept her wrapped up in a no-asset divorce for almost a year. Really, it was just enough.

It was a good day in court, yes. But because there is still dispute over all those bills, there will be more days in court. We are scheduled to go to trial in January.

January. It seems like a million years away, just as yesterday's date did when we scheduled back in July.

Of course, I may never see what the judge said yesterday I should get. I may never get the money owed to me. Even if I do, it could take a very long time to get to me. And even still, there may have to be more sacrifices just to get the hell out.

This divorce isn't about money. There was so little to split. But it is about standing tall and standing up for myself, and that is where I have felt the proudest, the strongest, the most supported, when the most good has come to me. It is when I have thrived inside a year of sadness, shock, stress and changes. It is when I have won.

Victory, these twelve months have taught me, is sometimes a whispered prayer, sometimes a door shut behind you, sometimes a signed lease or solo adventure, sometimes fits of laughter or figuring out a problem completely alone.

And once in a while, victory is yelled back.

For all the tweets and comments and IMs and calls and messages that filled the space between my computer screen and the court room, thank you.

Click to read more ...