My Ex is a Turnip

Yesterday I received a certified letter from my former husband explaining why he cannot contribute financially to his children.  It seems it is my fault.  I hate when I do that:  make other people quit jobs and such.  I guess I should have also worked harder to make cetain the kids stopped eating and growing and going to school (notebooks are expensive, you know). Or maybe it is this whole living in luxury thing I have been enjoying.  For example, there is the car; if it weren't repossessed you would be impressed with its lack of leather interior and its ability to hit 60 mph within 10 or 15 minutes.  Oh.  And the house I rent--1200 whopping feet of piles of laundry and a chair that our dogs long ago ate a hole in.  But I digress.  The real problem here is that I took way too long to quit my teaching career to get a job in sales (trust me--I am spectacular at it) to earn about $4000.00 more a year.  Thank goodness I finally saw the light!  I am now able to keep my family just above the poverty level.  And while I'm on the subject, the kids really should have started working earlier than they did.  Sadly, they have obviously inherited my "lazy" genes; the Ex made sure he told me I was lazy frequently when we were still married.  If my son had any decency he would have started earning his keep way before the age of ten!  Cleaning public restrooms, the insides of public garbage cans, and grease splattered walls five hours a week for 20 bucks is just not enough when you are so advanced in age.  I think he may grow up to be a loser.   And then there is my daughter.  Now there is a story.  What a lazy lump.  She is really beginning to remind me of Paris Hilton.  Except for the clothes, of course.  She buys all of those herself from local thrift stores with money she earns from her part-time job and babysitting.  And I really wish she would stop doing things like cooking dinner for the three of us when I have a late meeting.  Seriously.  How lame is that?  She is learning stuff like nutrition, cooking skills, and helping those she loves.  I guess I can always hold onto the fact that both kids make good grades in school and are really good and kind people. God.  I have made a mess of everything.  My half-way-new-year-resolution is, from this day forward, to be more understanding of the man who just can't take care of his children financially.  And while I am working on being a good person, I will also forgive him for not seeing, calling, writing or communicating with the children in a year.  Afterall, it is exhausting I am sure, to quit a career, move over 10 hours away, get remarried, and spend all of your extra energy forgetting you have a responsibility to anyone but yourself.  How could he possibly have time to get and keep a job?  And as the saying goes, you can't get blood out of a turnip.

Eventually You Will Get Zits

As a teenager when most of my peers were fighting the daily pimple battle, I was lucky enough to have a clear complexion.  I never had to know the frustration of hoping beyond hope that Stridex would erase the red knot on the end of my chin before school on Monday.  Of course, I was called "reflector legs" frequently since I could be the whitest white person alive, but nevertheless, I was zit-less.  Then, when I was 40, my life was turned upside-down.  I was on my own with my two children, and I was broke.  That should be enough for any human to deal with at once; however, I got the pleasure of adding serious breakouts to the mix.  For two years now, I have had zits.  And not just any zits, mind you.  They are extra-terrestrial in nature, seemingly coming out of nowhere, bulbous and enormous.  They never really go away either.  Sometimes they sort of shrink to a realitively normal size, but again they burst forth like a freaking once-dormant volcano.  Nothing makes them go away.  Nothing.  I have tried every over the counter offer, prescription medicines, hot-compresses, salt comounds, toothpaste, and Windex.  Yes.  I said Windex.  If you don't understand why I tried this remedy, ask a Greek.  Anyway.  There IS a lesson in this, I have decided.  Just when you think you have escaped a bumpy (no pun intended, of course) path, life will let you know you were mistaken.  Don't get me wrong.  Things will get better; they always do.  Just know that eventually you will get zits.

How Did I Get So Lucky?

I have lived through a home foreclosure, an auto repossession, and months where I only had a couple of dollars to my name.  I have worked with creditors, begged loan officers, and worked two jobs at a time.  I have watched my name become financial mud.  I have created dinner out of a tomato and a bag of rice. But despite all of this, I have watched two of the most incredible people in the world teach me over and over again that what matters most is family.  My daughter and son have dealt with serious life changes in the last two years--a broken home, a father who abandoned them, a serious decline in lifestyle, and a confusing string of events that would make most adults crumble.  Amazingly, they laugh and smile and love openly.  My daughter, being the tough, justice-driven girl that she is, has taught me that sometimes it is necessary to stand up and fight, even when you are exhausted.  My son, the laid-back, easy going sweetie, has taught me that forgiveness and true love make more of a difference in life than anything else.  Where would I be right now if I hadn't been lucky enough to have these two children to show me the truth of life?  I know that I would not be the happy person that I am today.  And, as hard as it is to make life work sometimes as a single parent, I feel sorry for their father who has chosen not to be a part of their lives.  He is the one missing out.  He is the one who is not accepting the incredible blessing that these two people are.  I say with 100% percent certainty that I wouldn't change my life at this moment.  I get the pure, true, amazing love of my daughter and son everyday.  How did I get so lucky?

I am now ON MY OWN

In August of 2009 with my 14-year-old daughter and my 10-year-old son in tow, I left my marriage of almost 20 years.  I found it impossible to continue living with the verbal abuse, and when I began seeing signs of physical abuse, I was done.  Less than a year later, my former husband met someone online, quit his job, moved across the country, remarried, and hasn't seen or spoken to the kids since. He is currently attempting to eliminate his responsibility, financially and parentally, to the children he once seemed to love more than anyone else in the world. Now, almost two years later, my children and I are beginning to heal.  But I am left wondering why our justice system works in such a way that the ones left behind are the ones that seem to sufer most.  I quit my teaching career, which I loved, of 17 years to get a job that paid more so I could take better care of my children and myself, yet he is not working.  I take them to the dentist, the doctor, school, sports, activities and get up with them in the middle of the night when they are sick, yet I have to pinch pennies to afford their school supplies.  I wait and wait and wait for Social Services to find him and push to get money from him, yet I am told that the wait may be endless; I may never see a penny.  I am positive by nature, and I want to live a happy life.  I tend to see the good in things.  I want to hear from other people who have been left on their own.  I want to hear what you have done to stay positive in the face of fierce opposition.  I want to hear the good.  I want to hear the bad.  I want to learn more from others.  I think that talking to others who truly understand can lead to the greatest healing possible