Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
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Friday
Dec222006

Rocky Road Ain't Just An Ice Cream Flavor

I'm not going to lie. It's been rough riding on the marital road lately. Lotsa potholes, puddles and more than a few rocks. There are reasons for this. Solid reasons that would cause distress between even the most Mike and Carol Brady among us.. but I still wanna kick the Rock Boy squarely in the balls.

It's interesting to go through difficult times with your spouse and come out the other side. You gain perspective on all the swallowing of pride and the daily decision to just not give a shit about the small stuff... you know, all the blood, sweat, tears, ignoring of farts and stink and fighting for covers and fuck you, no fuck YOU's that apparently go into those unions that last fifty years.

There are things about my husband that bother me.. some of them have slithered deadly close to being dealbreakers. Realistically, if I listed a majority of those things here, you would all laugh at my pettiness. But a few of the items.. well, the both of us are going to need some big shovels with which to excavate the issues, yo.

At least I'm getting smarter about it all. Initially, after the big battles, I'd call Mom or Brother-In-Law in tears. "I hate him. I hate him!" All drama. The next day, when the drama had subsided like a tired toddler after a tantrum, I felt like an ass for letting people in on my dysfunction. I felt exposed. I've stopped calling people after a marital battle. There's no point. Wait a few hours, sleep on it and perspective floods your system. On the flip side, not seeking out a good friend to confide in after a bitter battle treads dangerously close to Pretending-Everything-Is-Cool-When-It-Ain't territory. I don't EVER want to be that couple. The one that pretends everything is cool. Because that? That is trouble. I like to witness some healthy disagreement in other couples. Some dissent.

And so - since I haven't let anybody in on my latest struggles - not because I'm afraid to confide but because I'm afraid to look like a dramatic ass the next day - that makes me worry that I'm turning into one of those people that pretend everything is cool. At least if I document this latest struggle here, I'm not one of those people.. and I'll be able to look back and see the rollercoaster of love and my wild ride and appreciate being married through thick and thin.

The latest argument? I was pissed I had to take the bus to Pennsylvania. Mad that The Surge wasn't coming home to get me. When really, he's right. It doesn't make sense to waste a carload of money on gas and to waste hours and hours of his day when I could just hop on the bus. But, you know. I didn't want to schlep all the way downtown from the Upper West Side, straight off the overnight shift, lugging a shitload of things and then sit next to some idiot who wants to chit-chat or maybe just rest their idiot head on my shoulder while I cringe in horror. So I hung up on The Surge. Because, you know, I was pissed. Five minutes later I checked my email and got the funniest e-card ever. I didn't even know that idiot bastard knew what an e-card was, let alone how to send a Mormon e-card. Because I'm still chuckling, I'll let you read it too! Oh, and Assface, I'm on my way to Chinatown. See you in Pennsylvania.

HERE IS WHAT WAS IN M*NICA'S EMAIL:

Hi M*nica Sinner MeanFace,

Christmas Surge, The Sweet Boy has sent you a virtual greeting card from LDSeCards.com.

To pickup your card, just click on the link below


THE SURGE'S E-CARD

LDS eCards.com.