Heaven holds a sense of wonder….











{November 13, 2009}  

It’s been kind of a melancholy day.
Pickle and I didn’t get to spend much time together on her days off. Meetings, meetings, more meetings. We did go out, against better judgment (really can’t afford it), but we needed to get out and forget about real life for a while. This afternoon, I met with the kids’ dad and let him know that I think it’s in the best interest of the kids to live with me primarily. I don’t want to cut him off from the kids; on the contrary, I think it’s better for his relationship with them to do it this way. That way, they can segue into building a relationship, rather than trying to force it overnight. It was a rough and emotional conversation. He was very defensive and angry, and accused me of not giving him a fair chance to make it work. I held my ground, and it was hard to do because I’m so used to giving in to him just to keep the peace, but if I give into him, he has no reason to make an effort to make changes that work for everyone. He’s done no research whatsoever into what’s best for the kids, how to decrease the impact of divorce on them, and when I’ve present him with tools and resources, his reaction has been, at best, lukewarm. This is a big part of why Pickle is so angry with him, and she’s right to be. Towards the end of our conversation this afternoon, he told me he was going to get a lawyer, and this has me worried.

Neither he nor I actually have the money to hire a lawyer and go to court, which I think is a terrible idea anyway. It’s going to hurt the level of communication we’ve worked so hard to achieve, create animosity that doesn’t exist, and cause more stress for everyone, especially the kids. They’re smart and perceptive, and they’re going to know something’s going on, and not have a frame to put it in perspective. But if he were to lawyer up and take the whole thing to court, I don’t know what to expect. At this point, when the kids are with me, they have their own room and bunk bed, and they have a play area of their own. We have a car, and we have the means to save for the future and provide for emergency situations. When they’re with their dad, however, he is working part time so as to spend more time with them and not worry about childcare, and doesn’t make a lot of money. He’s living roommates to afford the rent in a three-bedroom house where he and the kids share a room, and they have no personal space of their own. On the surface, it looks like the courts would favor me, especially when considering the reason for my wanting them to be with me full-time is that they haven’t had a solid relationship with their dad up to this point, and sending them to live with him would be more like sending them to live with an uncle. The catch is this: the income that we have is primarily Pickle’s. I work part time, and actually make less than the kids’ dad. From what I’ve read so far, Pickle’s income doesn’t count as my income because in the eyes of the state of Kansas, we are nothing more than roommates; even if Kansas did allow gay marriage, and we were married, her income wouldn’t count towards considerations for child support, but it might help to build a stronger case based on my own income, because it would be *our* income then, legally. As it is right now, she has no legal obligation towards me or the kids, so it wouldn’t really help in court, from what I understand. Now, in our community, same-sex couples can register and be recognized by the city as a couple, and be given certain privileges that hetero couples share. We could do this for a mere $75 (which we don’t have right now anyway), but I don’t know how much that would help in a family court, in which the rules of the state still apply. Besides, it’s the wrong reason for us to put ourselves on a registry.

I’ve been having dreams lately where I’ve had to leave my kids with their dad because it was safer for them, or better for them somehow, and I’m terrified that it’s going to come down to that. My babies need me, and it would just about kill me not to have them in my life. I birthed them. I nursed them. I raised them. For five years, I’ve been the parent to them. I am scared to death that I will lose them. I don’t know what I would do.

Pickle’s been so good to me. When I came home this afternoon, she said, “Let’s just go upstairs and hold each other.” She’s been so worried about me, and where it’s usually me to wear the optimist face in the darkest times, she’s been assuring me all day long, “Everything will work out just fine.” She’s such a cynic herself, but it really does help to hear those words. In my life, I try to have faith that if I examine my motives, and follow the course of right action, and stand firm when I believe I’m doing the right thing, everything will work out in my favor. It usually does work out that way. Everything has a reason, and the PTB’s have a design of their own. I have to trust that it will work out. If not, I lose myself in worry and anxiety, and I lose my direction and myself.

So I’ll repeat to myself time and time again, “Everything has its reason. Whatever will be, will be, and right now, it is what it is. I can learn and grow from this, and I will.”

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{November 8, 2009}   She’s like fingers and toes

I’m currently reading Mom’s House/Dad’s House by Isolina Ricci.  Within its pages is a quiz one can take to assess their personal resources for coping with the high stress associated with a divorce.  A score of 95 or above indicates adequate resources and successful coping.  I scored a 96.  I am just barely over the threshold.  I looked over my answers to see how I got the result, and realized that if it wasn’t for Pickle, I wouldn’t have even made it to the threshold.  She’s the one keeping me together .  She says I do the same for her, that I keep her sane, though I find that ironic because if she weren’t with me, she’d have a whole lot less stress in her life.  Most of her stress lies in dealing with my interactions with the kids’ father and being the primary money-maker in a family she really never expected to have, much less overnight. 

I have a certain amount of guilt that I need to let go of.  She chose to be with me, knowing that it wasn’t going to be easy, knowing that she was committing to my kids.  I didn’t twist her arm.  We have such a solid connection with one another and we balance each other out so perfectly.  She knows exactly how to push me, to motivate me to be the best mother, girlfriend, partner, person that I am.  It’s not just about potential waiting to be released, it’s about what’s already there that I am using and need to acknowledge and maximize.  She’s smart and she sees things so clearly the first time, and me, it takes a few opportunities for slow observation before I get it.  I really have to study things.  Both approaches have their advantages, and it’s why we work so well together.  It really showed earlier this week when we undertook a major house-cleaning project.  It takes me forever to clean the house because I’m extremely detail-oriented.  I can’t see the big picture until I’ve put all the details together.  So I tend to focus on one specific area to the detriment of the whole.  She, however, sees everything right out, and tackles all the obvious things first to create the sense of harmony she needs, and the details get worked out in the process.  Together we make a great team and, may I just say, the house looks and feels fantastic!  But when the balance is lost and the responsibility falls on only one of our shoulders, the other becomes resentful, and the house falls apart – physically and energetically.  The same is said for the way we communicate with one another and the way we support one another.  As long as we are about each other’s boundaries and practicing true give-and-take, we maintain harmony.  I’d say effortlessly, but it does take some effort.  It’s just much easier with her for me than with anyone else I’ve ever been with.  It’s quite refreshing.

In the case of my separation and my kids, she’s had to repeat herself a thousand times over, to the point where she’s exhausted herself trying to point out what she feels is the obvious: their dad took advantage of me, was less-than-adequate as a father when we were together, people who haven’t changed in the past aren’t going to change in the future, I need to do what’s best for the kids and quit sparing his feelings.  She’s right, on every single count.  And I’ve known it, but I really have to marinate in it, to understand the whys and hows of every angle, and that takes time.  And she’d like me to Fix It Now.  Obviously, it would be much easier on everyone if I could wave my magic wand and do just that, but this is the real world, and I must be practical.  So it takes a balance of her pushing and me stalling to get things done at the right pace.

I can’t even describe how amazing and inspirational she is to me.  How much I love her.  I haven’t lost myself in her, I’ve found myself.  I need her, but not in a survival sense – I know that if she were not in my life, I would be fine and I would pull through and be a good mother to my kids, and I would survive.  I need her in the sense that I need my fingers and toes.  They are part of me, they are useful to me, and if they were to be taken from me, I would be in a lot of pain for a very long time, and, though I would learn to adapt, I would be limited in my ability to do the things I used to do with those particular digits.  She’s not my backbone, she’s the one that pulls my shoulders up and reminds me that I already *have* a backbone.  She’s not my knight on a white horse, she’s the compatriot that finds me scavenging in the woods and guides me in how to take advantage of the resources available to me, and by the way, I know where you can find a horse if you need one.  She’s not just a lover, and the word “girlfriend” is so inadequate.  She is my life partner, in every sense of the word, and she just boggles my mind.  How did she come into my life when she did?  The timing couldn’t have been worse, and at the same time, it couldn’t have been better.  I guess that means it was perfect.

She was supposed to be off work at 5am tonight.  As soon as she went in, her boss cornered her with the “choice” of either running to the airport and coming back at 6 am, or staying on until 6 am.  At first, I was just livid because she stayed on late last night as a favor to a coworker; besides, if this were a daytime job, the expectation that she would be able to stay on an hour late wouldn’t even be there.  People have lives.  But really, it was more than just about her being taken advantage of by a boss who claims to be her friend.  It was also about me needing her comfort tonight.  I need to hold her in my arms.  I am so very sad today.  I’ve been in a state of slow realization just how little support I have to go through this divorce, and how little experience I can call upon from my circle of friends and acquaintances.  The support I do have is awesome, and I’m lucky to have that much – there are people out there who have less – but it’s unfair to Pickle, who needs support as much as I do.  She is my main source of support now.  Almost exclusively.  I have others I can call on once or twice a week/every few weeks, but they’ve got their own stuff to deal with.  And I have no idea where to go for help.  None.  I feel very lost and alone.  Except when Pickle’s around… she makes it all go away.  What an unfair burden to put on her, right?  Except, I guess, I do the same for her.



et cetera