(Various Shades of) Blonde Nonsense

It’s Friday, and I’m sitting here, as most freelance writers typically do, working on the article that’s going to win me the Pulitzer, planning my Great American Novel, and hoping a full-time job of some sort comes my way soon so I can pay my rent.

Just kidding.  I’ve got the rent covered.

For another month, anyway.

I wasn’t supposed to come down to Mom and Dad’s today.  This came about because I walked into my part-time job, as a teacher at the local SAT center, and discovered I’d misread the schedule and I was on 10 - 1 tomorrow, not today.  So I called my sister, who lives down south and isn’t up north much, but is this particular weekend, and offered to take her to lunch.  A– was cleaning my parents’ house for them, so I volunteered to pitch in.  A– took the dusting and vacuuming.  I took the kitchen.  I figured I’d finish the kitchen and pitch in with her on the bathroom.The kitchen took as long to clean as the rest of the house.So I did the moldings.  You know, you drag a damp cloth along the baseboards and moldings around the doors to get the extra dust off.  I did the windowsills, too.A– pulled out the lawnmower.

Even refereeing the kids:  hers and mine, playing Wii, I can’t top a lawnmower I don’t think.

I retreated to my father’s Mac to type out this blog.My baby sister also has a Wii.  Just so my mother understands I didn’t let 2 7-year-olds rummage through her room, I’ve had them rehearse the following line:

“Grandma and Grandpa, this is J–’s Wii from home.”J–’s Wii…”

It’s the phonetics of that word that gets me.  Every mother comes up with alternate names for THAT part of their son’s anatomy when they’re a child.  Let’s face it, the correct name is not the best sounding of words.  Certainly not rolling off a child’s tongue.

So why did Nintendo choose one of the mother’s alternates for the name of their hot new game system 2 years ago?

You’ve got me.  Ask their marketing department.

So last night I had one of those conversations with my ex.  I call it the virtual “having a beer together.”  I crack open a Bass on my end of the phone.  He pulls a Coor’s dishwater (I’m a born and bred Irish gal–Guiness for breakfast) out of his fridge on his.  I settle in front of the computer, feet propped on a living room chair; he sits down on…whatever piece of furniture in his place he sits on, I’m not there so I can’t tell you.  We chatter.  Just 2 friends who’ve known each other since around college talking about the latest and greatest in our lives.

J– and I can do that for a number of reasons, number 1 on the list being that we were friends first, and remained friends afterwards.  Usually you don’t want much to do with an ex, and for a long time, neither of us wanted to do with the other, but enough time has passed.  We can do this now.

Barely.  You see, being married to someone means you know them.  Divorce changes people, so perhaps you don’t know them as well as you did when you were married.  The same goes for breakups and relationships.  Ending a relationship legally or just emotionally changes someone.  You changed while you were in the relationship–isn’t that all a marriage is?  A relationship with a license in between? You changed as a result of the relationship.  The breakup changes you, too.

Still, the mechanics of a person:  the …that they brush their teeth up and down instead of back and forth, that they snore–these things don’t change.

So you know them, and you know when they are lying to save your feelings, either by omission or deliberately.

This time it was my ex lying to me.  He’s getting remarried.  I know that.  I saw the ring, but when I ask for a date, I get glossovers–I’m not given that information.

“We haven’t set a date yet.”

Actually, I know they have.  My son listens when they talk.  He’s filled with excitement over the wedding.

Just so long as they don’t schedule it during my visitation weekend (Each parent gets every other weekend with their child).

Yes, I am that persnickety about those things.  My son is on the Autistic Spectrum.  Living in Northern NJ when I was married, I couldn’t afford to buy my ex out of our house, which my son needed to stay in, in the school system with the support system he already had.  The decision was made that I would be “parent of secondary residence”–or non-Custodial parent.  Legal custody I’ve got.  I see my son whenever I can.  Officially, though, he only comes to stay with me every other weekend.

Which is why I hope my ex gets remarried on one of his weekends.

Moving on.

It’s just not easy talking to an ex, and when yours is bristling with wedding plans and you’re on the flip side, watching someone you married marry someone else…

Well, the lies help.

Is it smart to be discussing your life with your ex?  Is it smart to be even talking to them?

Overall, I’d say no.  No matter what the circumstances, how long you’ve known each other, etc etc, you’re still exes.  The reason you ended your relationship still exist.  You’re just not confronted with them on a constant basis. They’re easier to live with because you don’t live with them every day.  The moment you get to talking too often, those reasons re-emerge and before long you’re standing right where you were when you said, “no more”.

That’s what you want to avoid.  Particularly when you’re raising a child together, but even if you aren’t.

It’s hard to leave behind a piece of your life.  It’s hard to accept that someone you shared a home, a significant amount of time, part of yourself with isn’t someone you can still speak to.  It’s hard to acknowledge that the time you shared has passed and there’s no further need to remain in contact–that there’s no basis for further connection.

That’s how it is, though.  That’s how it works.  It shouldn’t but it does.

I realize that when I hang up the phone this time.

It’s time.  The mechanics of parenthood–the decisions and the parent teacher conferences and the milestones my ex and I will share.  The rest is past.  Even if my ex weren’t getting remarried–even if we both stayed single forever–it would still have passed.

I let it go.

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