divorce and family


back to school It’s rainy.

And gloomy…

Pretty gross out today.

Perfect for driving.

NOT. So, of course…I’m only that much more freaked out as I watch Jonah drive away in the Prius with the STUDENT DRIVER sign on the top. Oh fuck. Not only do I officially have a kid old enough to be driving, in two weeks he’s starting high school. I can’t stop crying. In fact, I haven’t stopped crying for days.

I’m filled with so many emotions.

But why?

Is it because Jonah is growing up so fast, or that I am? 








Period. But here we go again. And I know, this time it’s not supposed to affect me. Effect? Affect. I think. This change that’s happening is not about me, but it is. So let’s just get it going. Mark is moving this weekend. Yuppers. He sold our house. Well, his house. But it’s my house, too. Ugh. Fuck it, let me start from the beginning, and all y’all try and follow along. We lived together in the house he is in NOW, when we were married. We got separated, then I moved into the house I am in NOW with my boys. (ok, I kinda skipped the “nesting” part, but Lordy I’m not explaining that) Are you with me? Good. Then, last month, he sold his house…that is still really “our” house, do you understand? And I know it’s not supposed to bother me. But it does. It is. Dammit, I am upset. ok? I am sad all over again. And I hate change, which is the reason why I started this entry in the first place. Yeesh. I’m fucking exhausted. Hold on, I need a big ole swig of my wine…

Ok, I’m back. And now this should get easier…seeing as I’m two sheets to the wind. What the hell does that mean anyway? Two sheets to the wind? So dumb. Whatever. Mark is packing the house tomorrow. His house, and he is moving into an apartment. Ugh. And I’m just bamboozled. I’m all out of sorts, and not sure how to feel. Should I be happy for them? I mean they get to move to a really cool location! Right behind Dean and Deluca and the movie theatre! They can walk there…that’s kinda fun, no? And Zac is mega excited! He says its like living in a super-sized hotel room. He is always so dang positive. Then there’s Jonah. He’s just fucking pissed. Mad as hell. He’s all like, “Are you kidding me, Mom? An apartment? What the fuck! Is this like one of those Disney shows or something?” Hmmm. Can you say, entitled? Nah, he’s just sad to leave his home. Jonah doesn’t really do well with change either. He’s like me. I hate it. I hate new smells, and new noises. I hate not knowing exactly where the toilet is, for fucksake. I just hate change. Boo.

And the worst thing? It’s reopening all my old wounds. Mark is sending over all my shit that I left in the big house. My wedding gown, all the photo albums…the china. All the kids toys, and games. Everything. Jesus! Why don’t you just rip open my chest and stab me in the fucking heart, Mark! Ok, it’s not that bad. And sure, I can use my everyday china…I’m short on dishes over here. And yes, I do want the white Teak chairs for my deck. Perfect. And while he’s at it…I’d be happy to take the antique book cabinet that’s in the dining room! Omg. What else does he have over there! Half that shit is MINE! I kid. I am kidding. Kinda. But I do feel bad for him, truly. I was able to move on two years ago. Ya know, put it behind me? He is just doing it now…

Not really fair when you think about it.

So, I offered to help by taking the boys a day early this week. That will give him some extra time to pack and sort out his shit. I know, I’m clearly the best Ex wife in all the land. lol. I am not the best by any stretch, but I do how hard this will be. And I can understand the hurt he’s going to feel over the next few days. I remember two years ago, sitting in that house packing up my things…how badly my heart ached. Boxing up my clothes, and the pictures. Taking the stuff I thought I wanted to make my new place mine. And now, he has to do it with the boy’s things, too. And he is moving into an apartment. Not exactly where he thought he would be two years after our divorce. Ugh. What a fucking nightmare, right? Putting most of his shit into storage. And then moving again someday? Kill me now.

But divorce isn’t easy. We make choices, and the truth of it is…neither of us needs such a huge house. Too big for 3 people, and WAY too big for one person on the off week. So, the boys are losing their stable home. And I am losing my “dream house,” and Mark is losing his outdoor fireplace (and maybe a little bit of his pride). Sounds so obnoxious, right? It’s only a house. But it’s our home. The boys home. It is the last thing they have left from our family. Ugh. I just got a huge lump in my throat. Why is this so hard? I said my goodbyes 2 years ago, that’s why! I did this already. And now, I have to do it again. I want to SCREAM!!! I know they will be okay, wherever they lay their hats…ya. I know.

My boys are rockstars. Flat out flipping rockstars. Change is never easy, but it has made us all stronger. We are all healthy…and I know things could be so much worse. And this time next week, they will be settled with their Dad in his new digs. Just the three guys, and those two little asshole Frenchie Dogs. I hate those little fuckers. I am so happy I lost them in the divorce. Now, that was the best change that ever happened to me. I kid. I’m kidding. Kinda. ;)

xo j








fun….or not.

It’s been a year. One flipping year. Cinco De Mayo all y’all, will be the ONE year anniversary of my divorce. Well, since the final papers were signed anyway. Yuppers. Last year, on the Fifth of May I became legally single. Can you even believe it? That it’s only been a year? And look how much has happened! My life has changed so drastically, it’s insane. And I’ve made so many mistakes. I know, I’ve made a shit-ton of mistakes! But really, give a girl a break! Cut me a little fucking slack, ok? I mean, after a year of having a kid no one expects you to know how to raise it. After a year of med school, they don’t expect you to perform brain surgery!  After a year of anything, you’re just…well a year wiser. And that is it. So I need to take it easy on myself, and the rest of you need to lighten up, too. I’m new at this divorce thing, and after a year of being on my own I think I am doing just fine.

So there.

This morning, I was talking to my sister…she was the one who told me to stop beating myself up. Take a deep breath, and be proud of the woman I am right now. Where I have landed, and what I have accomplished in the last 12 loooonggg months. I have a pilot ready to shop, I have a house that’s all mine… and I have two boys that are happy. Wow. When you look at it that way, I think I am on the road to success. The world is my oyster! Ok, maybe if you measure “success” by your house, and your kids. But I am just grasping at straws here guys. Work with me! But truly, it’s only been a year! And sure, I had to up my meds, and sure…I had a few bouts of hysteria along the way. But wouldn’t you?

No wait, I’ll answer that for ya: you would. And it takes a strong person to get divorced. This whole thing rocks your world. And I’m not suggesting you should stay in a shitty marriage. (Don’t start sending me hate-mail) But I am saying think long and hard about it before you walk out that door. The struggle is real, the pain is real…the change in lifestyle is real. And if you think the grass is greener, think again. Now sure, there are circumstances that are out of your control. Your spouse cheats, or he’s a drug user. She’s abusive. The trust is lost. He walks out. I get it. But if you feel like ending it just because you don’t get that “warm and fuzzy” feeling every time the garage door opens, suck it up Buttercup. You will hate your life even more on the other side. Try dating the shitheads I met on Match.com. Nothing “warm and fuzzy” going on there,  trust me. Well, except maybe their balls. Unless they shaved them, and in that case they were not warm, nor fuzzy. Just smooth and maybe room temp? Ugh. Sorry, Dad.

So, I have learned a ton in a year. And I’ve made HUGE mistakes. But I can only learn from them. I made stupid purchases thinking I had the money to spend. After all, I was accustomed to a certain lifestyle. I bought art I couldn’t afford, to support my friends. I put a sport court in my back yard to be “fun mom”. I had to compete with FUN DAD, after all! He kept the big house, so I just thought I should have something cooler. I mean, come on! Every kid needs a basketball court in their backyard, right? Wrong. And I traveled. I went wherever I could go to escape the aloneness I felt when I didn’t have my boys. Every week they were with Mark, I hopped a flight to nowhere. Or somewhere. Or anywhere. As long as it wasn’t here. I didn’t want to sit in my too-quiet house alone.

So I left.

I know you married folk don’t get it. And it’s okay. But I wish I could climb into your windows at night, and sprinkle “Happy Couple Dust” on y’all while you’re asleep. So you’d appreciate your marriages. You’d love harder, and be thankful for the person next to you. Marriage is tough. It sucks sometimes. It’s work. But I wish I had someone telling me all of this when I was with Mark. I wish I had blog to read, written by an HONEST chick that went through it. Fuck, I would have done it so much differently. But I’ll tell you this much for free. If I ever get another chance at it…this marriage thing. I won’t fuck it up.

I will do it right. I’ll learn from my mistakes. And I will live Happily Ever After. One year down and a lifetime to go…Happy Anniversary to Me. ;)

xo j






Don’t talk.

Or laugh.

Don’t make eye contact…

Or move.

C’mon on!

Am I really that bad?

Shit. Don’t answer that, you two. I already know the answer. You hate me. And every thing I do. Everything I wear. Everything I say. What could I possibly have done wrong this time, you ask? Oh, I drew breath. I have reached the spot that all Mom’s dread in their children’s lifetime. I am no longer the cool-Mom. Or the Kool-Aid Mom for that matter. Hell, I’m not even allowed out of the house. Omg, kill me please. I have become…


The Mom that my kids love to hate. And fuck do they ever! They say the most wicked things one-second, and they are loving on me the next. Its like someone is playing a really cruel joke. I was never this bad. I never acted like this, and I surely didn’t talk to my mother this way! Someone turn down the hormones, and pump them will Happy Pills…or I’m not gonna make it past the 7th Grade! It’s bizarre, really. I’m not quite sure what kind of kid I’m going get each day. I’m just happy if no one calls me a douchebag before 9am.

Tonight, we went to one of those Hibachi places. Ya know where the little Asian fella makes the food in front of you? And he does the whole spiel with the fire-onion-train  and the choppy-knifes? Ya, ya. Well, I like to be nice, and give him my full attention! It’s not easy doing all that cooking for an audience of assholes. Jesus. I like to clap at his “Nemo-on-fire” trick…and give him the positive feedback he deserves! Come on, the guy can barely speak English. So Zac sits down next to Jonah…and says to me, “Mom, do not make a scene here. Just eat your food. And be quiet.

Ummm, wow.

Speak when you are spoken to, Jen. From my 11-year old. So I ask him, can I clap when the guy is done cooking? Is that ok, Zac? I mean, fuck…can I give the fucking guy a little clapper-roo? It was rhetorical. I didn’t really NEED Zac’s opinion, ok? But Zac looks at Jonah, and then…they actually discuss it! Like they have a fucking CDD on whether or not I can give the cook a round of applause! OMG are these kids kidding me? I need permission? So, they get done talking and both look at me. Then Jonah says,”Well, Mom…we think it’s ok. But just a small clap, don’t overdo it.”


I am done. These two have just put me over the edge.  I swear, this can’t get any worse. It’s just been a really loooonnggg summer. School starts on Monday, and then they will calm down. The fangs will go away, and the horns will sink back into their heads. My babies will come back, and all will be right in the world. I can just feel it. I must hold on…

I must realize they are worried about starting school, and stressed about the changes that are coming with the new year. And the uncertainty of me starting school. I’m starting school! That has got to be freaking them out. They have always had me home, and at their disposal. I know, they’re nervous. And worried that I won’t be around if they need me. Change is hard for everyone, especially kids. And I need to remember they are just that, kids. At 11 and 13 I need to cut them a little slack. Even if it means taking some of their stress out on me. I mean, isn’t that what being a Mom is all about? I’m pretty sure it’s in our job description, and I’m good with that. I’ll just drink more wine.

My Mom always tells me, when kids start acting the worst…it means they are looking for more attention from their parents. She was a first grade teacher for 20 years, so I think I believe Grandma Trish. Its like they are reaching out, and maybe just don’t know how to say it. So, I am going to post this blog. And go play one more game of Monopoly with my Devil-children. Then, we are going to have movie night. And then…I’m going to clean their mouths out with soap. ;)


xo j


Happy School Year 2015-2016 all y’all!