I was talking with my mom the other day and she said, “You’ll be here soon,” (My sister, Cat’s, new babe Walt is getting blessed in a week, and I’m off to the ‘Tah for it.) “so we can catch up. There’s been a lot going with you since we last talked.”
“Actually, I think you’re up to speed,” I told her, “I have a boyfriend I love. He has kids. It’s complicated.”
That really is the story, but I will fill in a few in-between bits—
On the boyfriend: I’m stupid, silly in love. We are pathetic. It’s adorable. And annoying, I’m sure. I love everything about him, right down to the shape of his head. I am finally able to trust that he will see things through; he has always done what he said he would, but it took a long time for me to be able to believe that a partner could follow-up. His legs look like something Renaissance sculptors would chisel out of marble. The only accurate descriptor that I can come up with for how that man kisses is YOWZA!
All good things.
But there is a sad thing regarding Jim. My sweetheart’s dad died a week ago. Though it’s a rotten loss, I know Jim has enjoyed being able to see all his sisters, brothers-in-law, and other family folk a lot this last week. And the viewing was a sight to see. (That was a strange sentence.) Shirl, Jim’s dad, was the quintessential 49er fan. So we all wore 49ers gear to the viewing. (Yes, even me. I now own a 49ers t-shirt. That’s weird.) The room was a sea of red. After the sad but lovely event, Jim, kidlings (sans Dustin; the boy was missed), and I went for froyo:
|I swear Ben was having a good time. In the photo I took right before this one he was giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up, but Katelynn's eyes were closed, so I went with this one.|
That photo is just moments before I dropped my frozen yogurt face-down on the floor. Gravity put me on a diet.
Court happened too. I mentioned that Thing One and Thing Two subpoenaed me. It was about this blog. As part of a convoluted case wherein they ended up being required to pony up the child care costs they refused to pay Jim and got slapped for refusing to tell Jim who is watching his kids when they’re not with The Inconsequentials, the exes were trying to get me to stop writing about them. Mean words. Hurt feelings. No shit. God bless The First Amendment. It got in their way a little bit. Holla holla free speech.
But don’t think they’re the only ones who got their asses handed to them. Regarding this blog, both Jim and I got it from the judge. Listen, I’ve had some really venomous moments on here, there’s no denying that, but it’s been part of my working-through process. There was a story I needed to tell. I told it in the way that best suited my feelings at the time of writing. The judge, a truly fair judge, said that things I’ve written about the affair/divorce are poisonous. He also said my writing’s like heroin. You can’t stop coming back for more. (Okay, that may not be what he meant with the heroin reference.) And then he told Carrie that if she doesn’t like what I’m writing, to not read it and to remember that she did, after all, have an affair with my husband and then marry him.
When we were out at dinner after the hours of court, I told Jim, “That was a seriously fun date.” I meant it. The circumstances were lousy, sure, but I learned things, got to see our terrible exes get reprimanded, and I got to hear the judge read aloud in court the mean names I’ve called Carrie on this blog. Here is where Thing One and Thing Two miscalculated—I really liked getting reamed for what I’ve written. It was a sort of dream come true. Here’s why: something I wrote got under my targets’ skin such that they ended up paying thousands of dollars to an attorney in order to fight about it.
I admit that there are times I’ve gone too far. I am constantly honest on here, and the times I’ve gone too far were my truth at the moment. I am not taking down or changing posts where I’ve pushed it too much, because the vehemence in those posts are part of the story. Sometimes I’ve been so angry or so hurt that those feelings have dominated the tone of what I wrote. That tone is where I was then, regrettable or otherwise. Here’s where I am now: I hope they shape up. Apparently Mark got a job, which is astonishing and wonderful. Jim’s minor kids spend 50% of their time with the exes; it would be nice if Jim wasn’t the kids’ only up-close male example of work ethic and effort to provide for a family. That’s a step in the right direction, and it’s the first one those two have made in a really long time. Jim and I hope there are more to come.