Wednesday, December 21, 2011


For anyone getting divorced, get an anal-retentive lawyer. You'd be amazed at how sloppy they are: case in point. I bought FH out, and refinanced. Bank cut check for unused escrow to both of us. Now, we don't have a joint account. Check can't be cashed unless he agrees to write a letter. Which he won't, because you know, he can mess with my life, so he will. A careful lawyer (not mine, clearly) would have had this taken care of before I signed off on a new mortgage. Which in itself is liberating and terrifying. Think it's the two small children living under my roof that I'm responsible for that makes it scary. I mean, if I lost the house, it's just me. But W and T...whole 'nother ball of wax.

So, after asking nicely if FH would write letter so I can cash the check and get much-needed funds to, oh, buy groceries, and after his nasty refusal I am left to consider options. Lawyers are expensive, and sloppy. Getting enraged only makes FH happy and me nuts. So I've decided to eat the money. Just not cash the damn thing. He won't get any, neither will I. I'd prefer to give it to a charity, but again, I'd need his signature. So in the scheme of things, I'm left thinking I'll light a cozy fire in teh fireplace and burn the damn thing. I'm just too fed up.

I think this is the "angry" part of post-divorce. They say it gets better. We find happiness. Even love. Possibly. But not tonight. Still, I didn't get furious. I stayed calm. Perhaps this is worth something -- even that darn check.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Feeling sexy? Not so much.

So, yes. I filed for divorce. And no, I don't want Former Husband (FH) back, but I'll own up to it: I'm hurting. And sulking. And trying to stop. Unsuccessfully.

And no, it's not attractive.

FH is having a glorious time with 21-year-old Former Babysitter (FB), who is just one of the many reasons I filed. (I'm a bit French about indiscretion but after a handful of flings, it's ridiculous.) He's wasted no time informing me of his dates, his nights away, his art gallery- opening soirees. And I am home with my gorgeous sons reading them Harry Potter, making dinner, doing laundry, packing tomorrow's lunches . . . being a working single mom. Who yes, happens to be old enough to be FB's mother and it boils down to this:

How do you get back in the groove as a woman?

Especially with Prince Charming's instant messages (I mean, do I need the blow-by-blow date commentary?) I know, I know. It's fresh. Time heals. There's a world of I-don't-know-what out there. But I'm skeptical. And really, all I really want to do is dance. Dance and laugh and flirt. Just for a night, so I can remember what it's like to feel like a woman.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Not on top, but back

So it's been a year and in a nutshell, not the best. In fact, has all the makings of a really bad country-western tune: husband got drunk and arrested. Then ran off with 21-year-old babysitter, next day I had to put my sweet dog to sleep (and miss her more),so i filed for divorce, and four is now three (me, two sons). So...determined to grow the humor, grow the courage, but sometimes it's hard. This is where I will turn. With virtually no followers, it's safe.

So, where do you start when a boozy, cheatin' husband leaves? You pull out a sledge hammer and start busting down walls and rebuilding your life -- literally. That means redesigning the kitchen. Well, who knew how hard it is to handle a kitchen. Yeah, cabinets are basically lots of Lego blocks but then you need to put them together. Finding inspiration in blogs, and have called my best friend Clare - an amazing, award-winning kitchen designer from Savannah - who is flying into Connecticut this weekend like the cavalry to figure it out, talk to contractors, and do her thing with measuring tapes and budgets and spreadsheets and Home Depot-lingo. Wish us luck!