Finding a Home Where All Are Welcome: Not So Easy
(check out my blog every Tuesday and Friday)
Posted to House Bloggers by Sondra Simmons on Tue, 10/07/2008 - 1:38am
I've said it before: I don't have kids, I have pets. And as I disassemble my marriage and the life I built, I'm holding on tightly to my dogs and cats (having already let go of my birds and fish). This is turning out to be more challenging than I expected.
As you might remember, I've planned to give up my house and move out of South Florida. But I might've known there would be a problem with the wonderfully affordable house in a big fenced yard I arranged to rent in a new part of the country.
The problem is the neighborhood. I joked with my mother that I might have to skip this year's family Thanksgiving at my brother's house to man a machine gun in defense of my rented home, but it may not have been all that much of an exaggeration.
Then there was the old farmhouse on five acres, taken before I even had a chance to respond to the listing. It needed TLC, said the ad, which also included what I'm coming to understand was a great anomaly: the phrase "all pets welcome."
It was my soon-to-be-ex Ed who taught me that there's almost always room, at least temporarily, for one more animal in trouble. That's all well and good when you're in your own home with terrazzo floors. But the landlords of the shiny hardwoods I so admire are somehow not crazy about my having so many critters.
Ed introduced four of my remaining six pets into the household. My mother suggested loading the cats into a carrier and leaving them at his office. (She's obviously not a cat person.)
I reminded her that the animals stayed with me when I put Ed out because Ed is a drunk. I never wanted three cats, but I allowed them to join the pack and now I am responsible for them. I have also, um, grown accustomed to their little kitty faces.
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TechnoratiWhat issue presented the biggest challenge when trying to blend your families?
Posted Monday, May 26, 2008 - 10:58amDo you have a good relationship with your child's step- and half-sibling(s)?
Posted Friday, May 16, 2008 - 10:24amWhen did you meet the woman who became your kid's new Step-Mom?
Posted Friday, May 9, 2008 - 10:24amDo you encourage your children to acknowledge their step-mother on Mother's Day?
Posted Friday, April 18, 2008 - 9:42am
With the confidence of a captain of the girls' basketball team, Sarah Palin swished her way into the office of Mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, took a jump shot at being Governor of Alaska, and then slam dunked the nomination for the Republican vice presidency.
Along the way, she’s accomplished a feat that often sidelines powerful women. Throughout her impressive career, she has never made her husband look diminished.
How she has dribbled her way around this challenging issue is a subject truly worthy of debate. After all, studies in Social Forces and The Journal of Marriage and Family say that women who are more successful than their husbands have higher divorce rates.
Many powerful women have come forward to admit that their careers have sent their relationships to the bench, including Pink and Reese Witherspoon. Amy Adams in this month’s Vanity Fair says she’s looking for a guy who won’t look at her success as his failure.
Sarah Palin, however, seems blissfully unvexed. Using her arsenal of charm like a lethal weapon, she is showing America that you can be powerful and sexy at the same time. And you can keep your studmuffin by your side, looking happy.
Hillary Clinton, Golda Meir, Margaret Thatcher, Angela Merkel — none of these women’s relationships with their husbands conveyed much marital heat in public. The husbands were more likely to get their wives into hot water, or have been so lukewarm, no one paid any attention to them.
Now we have Todd Palin, the hot political hubby.
At campaign stops, Todd Palin looks macho while doing nothing more than standing there holding their baby.
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The Confrontation: Ex, Meet Boyfriend
(check out my blog every Friday)
Posted to House Bloggers by Nancy Lee on Fri, 10/03/2008 - 2:04am
There are a gazillion stories in New York, but for some reason mine have a tendency to intersect and overlap. Shortly before I married Ex, the man I had originally moved across country to marry (which is another story in itself) called to congratulate me. And to share some good news. "I'm not sure how you'll take it," he warned.
"If it's good news, I'll take it just fine," I replied.
"Well, I just got a great new job — everything I wanted, more money, good accounts."
And the down side would be...?
"My office is next to Ex's. We'll be working together."
Great. Welcome to The Story of My Life.
Which brings me to my current conundrum. While I didn't need to vet my dates with Ex, he and S had known each other most of their lives, even played in a band together for heaven's sakes. How exactly to broach the subject that we were now dating?
The little devil perched on one shoulder couldn't wait to spread the news. Just weeks before S and I became an official item, I received a disturbing phone call from my church.
Seems Ex and his Next wanted my pastor to officiate their upcoming nuptials...even though neither of them were members of my — or any — church. What's more, they decided the best place to hold the ceremony would be the lovely little chapel down the street from my house, where my daughters annually sang Christmas carols, a place that had meaning for me, my daughters, the family we once were.
"Rise above," my friends told me. "You don't want to spoil his wedding; wait until after to drop the bomb." Okay, okay. I conceded to the little angel on my other shoulder.
Well, at least my intentions were good.
The night of the wedding rehearsal, S and I went out to dinner to avoid any awkward confrontation with Ex picking up and dropping off the girls at my house. I told them to give me a heads up when they were leaving.
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Fighting for Child Support Is Exhausting
(check out my blog every Monday and Thursday)
Posted to House Bloggers by Faith Eggers on Thu, 10/02/2008 - 12:00pm
I have a court date scheduled with Levi for October 23rd. He still hasn't paid a dime of child support and I, sick of draining my bank account down to pennies every day, am sick of putting up with his bullshit.
I am exhausted. This whole ordeal is so freaking exhausting. I never realized how worn out your emotions can make you. Getting a divorce is like running a million marathons.
I tried everything. I tried to go it alone. I've tried to pay for everything by myself. I've tried having four or five jobs at one time I've tried to reason with him. I've tried to negotiate with him — always reiterating, "I'm not asking for a whole lot, I'm not asking to get rich, I just need some help."
Every single time I've tried, I've either been met with lies, empty promises, or absolute hostility.
It's weird though, I'm not even angry anymore. I'm just...tired. I want peace in my life. I want happiness. I want my son to have a peaceful, happy, wonderful life. I need to be able to provide that for him.
I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong. Why is it so impossible for me to communicate this effectively to Levi — effectively enough so that he'll listen? Effectively enough so that he'll step up and do SOMETHING.
This doesn't feel right, either. It doesn't feel right to drag the man — a man that I once loved so much — into court and call him a deadbeat.
I realize now why I've been avoiding this moment for so long — filing papers, and then retracting them — it's painful. This hurts. This back and forth bickering. This sitting back and watching Levi not only abandon but totally neglect our son. This really hurts. I only wish there was another way.
