Give Me That Tragedy

“There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other is to gain it.” -George Bernard Shaw
“Yes, losing your heart's desire is tragic. But gaining your heart's desire? That's all you can hope for. This year I wished for love...to immerse myself in someone else and to wake a heart long afraid to feel. My wish was granted. And if having that is tragic, then give me that tragedy. Because I wouldn't give it back for the world.” -Peyton Sawyer (The Tide That Left And Never Came Back, OTH)

How I adore my One Tree Hillisms.

I have wonderful, happy, exciting news.

On Tuesday the boyfriend and I actually got to go out on a date (very rare occasion). The boys were at Jane’s to spend part of their Thanksgiving week off.

He brought me out to the pier to watch the sun set. (It was a bit overcast but this has become a special spot for us to go to.) We were sitting on a bench watching the sun set, the calm water and the lights of houses across the water light up. There were some annoying skater boys in the back of us, and I laughed at them while the boyfriend muttered annoyance at them. We were holding hands gazing out at the water when he turned to me and said something about putting an end to an evening of nervousness.

And that, is when he pulled out a beautiful diamond ring and got down on one knee as he asked me to marry him!

I managed to whisper out a yes as the excitement and rush of bliss filled me up, and he slipped the ring on my finger.

Then we went and played some putt-putt golf (he in his slacks and tie and me in my wedges and poufy skirt. It was great!) And then went out for a delicious Italian dinner.

So the boyfriend has officially been promoted up to fiancé. It’s still sinking in, but I can’t shake the blissful happy butterfly feeling that rushes through me lately. I don’t think I want to shake it, as it is actually rather nice and refreshing.

And the boys are very excited about it. Older Boy has been asking for about two months now when we’re getting married. And Middle Boy had a huge grin on his face and swooped up to give me a hug after we told them. Younger Boy seems more interested in whether or not he can play with play doh or not. Expected I guess from a three-year-old boy. Of course, now they’ve been asking when I’m going to get a ring for Daddy. They crack me up.

I was very nervous about telling the boys to be quite honest. Even though Older Boy had been asking for months when we were getting married, or my favorite, “Daddy, when are you going to get a ring,” I had a really bad dream one night last month where we did tell them and Older Boy got so mad and angry that he was trying to purposely sabotage me. But, they are excited and that puts my worried soul at ease.

We’ve started planning and we’re trying to figure out how to incorporate the boys into it so that they feel that they are a part of it. We’ve been trying to work on becoming a family, and I think making them feel a part of it would be great (I hope!)

Anyway, that is where I have been. We’ve been sharing the good news and I’ve been all over the internet (Etsy, The Knot, Here Comes The Guide) trying to be prepared and doing my research. But I had to come on and share it with all of you too! I hope that you all had a great Thanksgiving! Oh, and here is a photo of the ring because, as a fellow lady, I know you all want to see it.

And Then I Exploded

"If you go in for argument, take care of your temper. Your logic, if you have any, will take care of itself." ~Joseph Farrell

You never quite really know just how strong and how much emotion you’ve been bottling up until it explodes on you. If you’re lucky, it’s something silly and stupid like watching one of the saddest episodes ever on One Tree Hill (“And Then I Cried” Sept 17 entry). But sometimes it’s something that really hurts you. And it all just snaps like a levy breaking on a damn…and all of hell’s fury breaks loose on the unfortunate people living in the valley down below.

Well that’s what happened today. In fact, I’m still rather furious at the boyfriend. In fact, I’m waiting for one of my childhood friends to call me back to say that he’s back from the gym so that we can go out to dinner and catch up on life. Because I’m so furious, and angry, and hurt right now that I need to get away. Because if I don’t get some away time and calm down, then I’m most likely to say something that I’m going to regret. And you can’t take things that you say back. And the most hurtful things that you would ever say to someone when you’re angry and hurt, are most likely to someone that you love. And I do love my boyfriend that I’m going to calm down first before I attempt to communicate why I’m so furious, angry and hurt.

I was looking forward to a family weekend. One that we could have fun and relax and be a family. I really wanted to bring the boys to the library to get them library cards. I really wanted to bring them to a park or something so that we could play and get some outside time outside of our apartment. Well, that all changed when I received a phone call from the boyfriend, saying that their mother had called and wanted them for the weekend.

And whatever contraption was bottling everything I’ve been pushing down inside, well that sucker flew loose. I don’t know where it is – maybe it’s somewhere behind my desk or maybe it rolled behind the TV. But I was pissed.

I understand she wants to see them. I understand that they love her and always will. But I don’t agree that she can just call at her convenience and expect to have the boys dropped off at her place because she willed it so. I want to spend time with the boys too (that isn’t on a work day.) Not to point blame or throw a pity party, trust me. I’m not. I’m just … hurt.

I gave up my life to come and take care of the boys and to live with my new family. I take care of them every day. I wake them up and give them breakfast, I feed them lunch, I make them dinner. I help with homework and my effort, unconditional love and patience and my paycheck go toward this family. Sure, it’s only been 12 days, but I like to think that I’m a part of this family too.

It just hurts my feelings, and I’m aware that it only hurts because I’m allowing it to hurt. But it hurts. Our family is not serving to her beck and call. We’re a family too. We have plans and she really needs to call in advance if she’d like to see the boys. This really pisses me off too considering she has no sort of custody of them. She has no responsibility to them (outside of being a mother that I’ve already said my opinion on). It just … a lot of things about this situation irritate me. But this … I just can’t grasp and refuse to bow down too.

I always make a conscious effort to choose my battles. And this is a battle that I am going to pursue. I refuse to have my life revolving around her beck and call. I do not bow down to another person’s irresponsibility, especially hers.

Am I being a stubborn bitch? It’s a big possibility. But do I have a right to be angry and upset? Hell yes I do.

So here I sit. Waiting for my childhood friend to call me so that I can go out, and calm down, and after I’ve calmed down and found my smile I can calmly and rationally discuss with the boyfriend. I don’t like to be angry, but I’m not one to bow down when someone has hurt me either. I’m confrontational … it’s my personality. And if we expect to get married and live the rest of our lives together, we need to learn how to deal with this, in a way that works for the both of us.

Gray With Smudges Versus Defined Black And White

"See I thought love was black and white, That it was wrong or it was right"
~ Missy Higgins, Where I Stood

I’m starting to think that I need these boys about as much as I think they need me. In their own ways they’ve been reminding me that enjoying life is important. And that sometimes it’s not about coloring inside the defined lines.

On Saturday morning Older Boy and I were making pancakes for breakfast. He had first asked if he could help, and I told him I would let him know when I was ready for him. Then I thought better of it, and let him pour in the ingredients as I mixed them up in the bowl. Then, there we were. He was pouring the batter in the pan and I was flipping them.

He looked at me and said that Middle Boy and Younger Boy were missing out on delicious pancakes. “They sure are,” was what I said smiling.

OB: I heard that you were sad because they didn’t come.
Me: I was sad. *Pause* But I’ll be able to see them next weekend. But we’re having fun now, aren’t we?
OB: Yes we are. I’m going to try that sausage.

It was a little frightening that I could feel so vulnerable and exposed like that. I’m not one to share my inner most emotions, much less if I am feeling anything other than “I’m going to take over the world today.” And yet, with the words coming out of an 8-year-old’s mouth … it kind of made me change the way I handled myself in the situation.

It’s not just about turning something sad into a positive. It’s making sure that the boys know that even if I am sad or upset, it’s OK. And that I like being with them and that I’ll still be here. I know that my feelings are important, but so are theirs.

And of course, as usual, that got me thinking. And that innocent little sentence … well that little thing makes a lot of sense (even if just for a minute).

By “makes a lot of sense” I mean that maybe my perception was out of focus and for a slight minute it’s suddenly been brought back into focus. And I had better grasp on before it slides back out of focus.

My perception had been so focused on how love ought to be. Perhaps it was because of how I was brought up. Perhaps it was because of Disney’s Princess complex. (Your true love will come into your world and sweep you off your feet.) Or maybe it was all of the lovey dovey sugar and spice dreams a young girl has that sticks with her despite the moments that she realizes the perfect romance is a load of crap.

I realized that in my mind, Love was black and white. It was either there or it wasn’t. The lines defining it of what I wanted it and expected it to be were so crisp, so hard, so defined … there was no room for error or smudges. And man, my love right now, I realize, is lined with a lot of gray from all the smudges.

And I don’t say that because I’m confused, or because I’m not sure. I’m very sure. It just wasn’t exactly what my “Ideal Romance” consisted of. And if this is going to work, I need to allow myself to smudge up my perception a bit. To allow room to color outside the lines, because nothing in my lifetime is going to follow my “Ideal Romance.” And although my love story is somewhat of a wonderful fairy tale come true, I need to remember that it’s not perfect. It’s just life. And life is full of changes and lessons and more changes.

All that perception, out of one sentence from an 8-year-old boy and some not-so-golden pancakes, who would have thought…

In Memory of "The Plan"

As a young high school girl, you plan...atleast I had a plan. Not just a plan, I had "The Plan." The Plan was thought out in detail, although not thought out well. The Plan had deadlines, goals in mind and it was my own creation. The latter made it easy to modify The Plan.

The original Plan: I would get married when I was 21. Have my first kid by 22. My second kid by 25. And then live happily ever after.

After I graduated from high school and went to college, the plan had its first modification.

Modified Plan 1: I would graduate from college in 4 years and begin a successful career as a magazine editor. Get married when I was 23. Have my first kid by 25 and my second kid by 27. And then live happily every after.

And of course, by the time I was 21 and had decided that I was going to transfer colleges ... it was modified a second time. And then by the time I actually graduated from college, with my degree at least, and had seen the ways of the world I realized more modifications to The Plan would have to be made. In fact, The Plan became more of a list.

- Graduate from college (Check)
- Get a job in chosen profession of journalism that I love (Check)
- Find decent boyfriend that would meet qualifications to possibly become good husband ( )
- Get married ( )
- Have first kid by 26 ( )
- Have second kid by 29 ( )
- Live happily ever after ( )

This list stayed this way (checkmarks and lack of) for about two years. And instead of trying to make more modifications, I just made the following goals:

- Find decent boyfriend that would be interested in serious relationship that could potentially become a husband
- Get married by 30
- Have 2 kids by 34

And I got comfortable with these goals...and I think fate got wind of that. Because I got a curve ball.

My Seventh grade sweetheart and I got back together after years and years of not communicating. Funny how sometimes the things you wish and hope for come true when you least expect them too. So there's one goal down. But that's not the curve ball.

The curve ball are the three wonderful boys that came with him. And how I love those boys. We've taken them to Disneyland, we've taken them camping, we've done quite a few family things to get things started off on the right foot. (Considering their mother chose not to be a part of their lives is another curve ball, but that's a later entry.)

Our families have, or at least seemed, to accept us and support us.

But all this love and support doesn't make it any less scary. It's not exactly an easy transition to go from being the "27-Year-Old Single, Independent Career Oriented Girl with a cat" to the "27-Year-Old Instant Mom of Three, living with boyfriend, having to find a new job, with a cat."

It's a challenge I obviously chose to make, and I happily take it on. But seriously? That's practically culture shock. Don't get me wrong, I adore taking care of kids. I've been baby sitting for years now and have my own "Kids" that I've watched grow up and are in high school or graduating from college about now. I've worked as part of a staff in child development centers for a couple of years. And, I've studied child/parent relationships, communicating with children and even the sociology of families. But all this studying/babysitting/working in child development still leaves me feeling un-knowing about quite a few things.

And there's no Rule Book or Guide Book for this. And if there is anything close to it, Trust me, my situation doesn't apply. It's so beautifully chaotic and strange, it's a bit mindblowing just trying to find the words to accurately describe it.

So back on the topic of this post ... The Plan has been changed. And I don't mean just a few minor modifications. I mean that sucker has been shredded, re-drafted, erased and re-written.

It actually looks something more like an equation:

(quit job) + (move in with guy & kids) x (A)(B)/(C) = Live Happily Ever After

Actually, at this point (3 1/2 weeks until I officially move in) I don't think that a final version of The Plan has even been finalized.

So much for The Plan...