I'm still eating like a champ - better take advantage of the fact that I can - a small consolation during the divorce process. I ate five pieces of Chlorplast Blast pizza last Thursday night and still lost a pound when I got on the scale Friday morning. It's like I've got a tapeworm or something. I enjoyed spending Thursday night with my friend Mary and her two kids - also met a guy she just started dating and his two girls. Mary and I stayed up late talking on her front porch after her kids went to bed and I learned a lot about divorce - she's been divorced three years, and I decided it would take three years for me to scope out a potential new prospect. Three years is a long time for vetting (um, sorry), but given my past history on the few relationships I've had, I would need three years before I could trust myself to make a decision. Once I made it, if I ever do, it would be tough to go back. I don't make decisions lightly.
I learned today that a divorce of my caliber - given our financial situation and children - could take 3-6 months. That seems like a long time, but oh well. Process is in place for a reason, and it is good to take things slow for all parties involved, especially the kids. It's going to take some time for me to get the things I want. A smaller house, one that I get to pick out. I'm young, in the grand scheme of things. Life is still out there.
This afternoon, I sat out on the deck at this house, and started reading the divorce books again. I finished the Les Claypool on Easter Sunday, and even though I had a couple of plot points to argue, overall it worked and I liked it. It had one of the most insane, disgusting, hilarious sex scenes I ever read in a book, and I was laughing so hard in the backyard Sunday afternoon while the kids were jumping on the trampoline I almost fell out of my chair. I had the kids all last weekend, and will probably have them again this weekend. We had a blast - mostly in the backyard. The weather was beautiful.
My sister and her boys came from Atlanta for the week!!! I picked the kids up from school and we spent a wonderful evening at mom and dad's own Rancho Relaxo (sorry - I'm a little Les crazy right now), eating leftover Easter brunch sandwiches, drinking wine, and searching for shells on the bank of the Arkansas River. My son is finally old enough to really play with Sara's six-year-old Joshua - and their conversations were wonderfully funny and innocent to listen to. Sicily is in heaven attending to three-year-old Matthew. I problem-solved with my mom about some issues I'm having with Sicily at bedtime, and she smartly suggested I blog about it over at MiM and seek advice. I think I might just do that, this week.
On Wednesday I'm pulling the kids out of school to play hooky and we are all headed up to Blanchard Springs Caverns with mom and dad. I can't wait for Sicily, John, Matthew, and Joshua to see it - it seems like I went yearly with my mom and dad there for a while, growing up. Luckily the bat fungus, which is closing down public caverns all over the country, still hasn't touched Blanchard Springs (probably by the end of the summer they will have to shut down, if not earlier). I love caverns. I remember when I was in gross anatomy and dissected my first human heart. Opened it up, and pondered the four chambers and the chordae tendinae. Papillary muscles. Huh. Looked like Blanchard Springs. I love how anatomy parallels nature - the visuals seem to flow and morph and mimic each other over and over again.
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