The Bad, The Really Bad, And The Even Worse....

It’s that time of year again. The once every couple of months “Where The Eff Have I Been” post.

This time, it’s crazy.

No, srsly—you guys aren’t going to believe this shit. And it’s not good. It’s serious and heartbreaking and surreal and well, unbelievable. I’m not even kidding, you guys.

So I have Bad News, some Really Bad News and Worse News. Which do you want first?
The Bad News? Ok, here goes:

I just turned 35. It’s awful. I’m dying. Like One-Foot-In-The-Grave, DYING. You know what this means, right? Like my wrinkles, my fat rolls, my gray hair—it’s all locked in. I’ll never lose another pound. After 35 everything goes to hell in a hand basket, right? At least that’s the rumor. If you don’t think it’s true, read on…

For me—it’s plain simple truth.

Couple turning 35 with the crap I’m about to lay down and you guys are going to be staring at your screens open mouthed, drooling on the keyboard without realizing it, unable to speak or move. Srsly. This is some heavy shit. Some of you may even shed a tear. Go grab the tissues, I’ll wait……………

We good?

Alrighty then-here goes—the Really Bad News:

Hubs and I are divorcing.

Yeah, I told you. Thought I was making up the crappy news, didn’t you? Well, I’m not. It’s true, it’s for reals. And it blows.

Hardcore.

I never, ever thought that I would be a divorcee. Never. I married him thinking that together, we could take over the world. Knowing that, of all the people on this planet-he was the one to travel this road with me and always love me, always support me. We have come so far and overcome so much, but there are some things that just can’t be overcome. ((That’s where the worse news comes in but we’ll talk about that in a bit.)) What really blows is to realize that I was wrong. I hate being wrong. I’d like to place all the blame on him but if I’m honest with myself, I can’t do that.

I won’t go into all the nasty details right now. That doesn’t mean that you won't get a screen full of bitter, vomitus man-hating down the road-cause I’m fairly certain that will happen at some point in this ridiculousness. Right now though, I’m in “Get through this” mode. We have talked, divided our assets peaceably. We saw the lawyer and the papers are being drawn up and will be ready to sign by the end of the week. He gets the car that isn’t paid off, the couch and miscellaneous furniture from the basement, his computer and his clothes. I get the house and everything else. Our oldest daughter is about to turn 17 (Hubs adopted her two years ago). Because of her age, all her extracurricular activities and her job there isn’t any fighting over her. She’ll go to Dads when she wants but will live with me. He’ll help support her and pay for her extracurricular activities.

All of that is the easy part.

The hard part is trying to stay friendly. And simply trying to wrap my head around what is happening. He’s been my best friend for 11 years. And now he’s not. That is a crazy hard thing to deal with. Oddly enough, I’m having a much harder time dealing with getting divorced than with the Worse News.

Here’s goes…drumroll...

[Insert deep breath here]

I’m gonna be a grandma.

Yeah, you read that right. No, I’m not shitting you.

I won’t be putting any specifics on the internet, but just know that in January one of my kids is expecting a little baby boy.

Crazy right? Speechless? Crying? Cause I am. Pass me a tissue, would ya?

I’ve known since the beginning and so have had some time to process it. While the news is still mind- blowing, it’s getting easier.

I’ve dealt with every sort of emotion there is with this. Anger, sadness, depression….I’ve ran the gamut. The worst though, has been feeling like a failure of a mother. I know now (Thanks to a counselor and some good happy pills) that it isn’t my fault. My child is on the leading edge of a terrible new generation of kids having kids. I won’t get all political on you, and its not that I shouldn’t share any blame-I probably should. But I had to work to realize that this was not all my fault.

I am not a bad mother.

I gotta tell ya, I might even be getting a tad excited to meet the little guy. His name is going to be Ezekiel. We are getting ready, got all the equipment—now just have to get fully mentally ready, if that’s even possible. I will essentially be adopting a baby here, boys and girls.

I’ve not forgotten what it’s like to be a single mom, but somehow those things don’t always look as bad when you look back. What I have forgotten what it’s like not to have another adult to count on. I’ll be fine. I can handle it, I can do this—but it’s gonna suck like there’s no tomorrow. ((There will be good points, for instance: no more dirty socks and/or underwear on my bedroom floor, no more wet towels on the bed, no more retarded friends, no more arguing over the radio station and far fewer fart jokes.))

How on earth can it be that I'm handling this one better than the crap with Hubs? How stupid is that? I don't get it either.

When I started this blog, the Amelioration part of it was mostly about my body. My weight, getting fit…I had no idea of the actual changes I’d actually be making.
So once again, as always in my “Where The Eff Have I Been” post, I’ll pledge to you that I WILL keep up with this blog.

I intend to keep blogging for EdanFantasys too. Gawd knows I'll be doing toy reviews before long....

Anywho...this going to be good therapy for me. And a great soap opera for you.