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The New Normal

I was barreling down I-99 at 75 miles per hour when it occurred to me that I felt really tired. Inordinately tired. Crazy tired. It was eight-thirty in the morning and I'd just slept eight full hours in preparation for my second day at my new full-time job in State College, Pennsylvania, the city I'm getting ready to move to at the end of this week. The city in which I will live as a newly single mother.

I've spent the past week helping Serge move to his new house which is roughly twenty minutes from mine. It's strange seeing my things in his home. Technically they aren't my things, they're our things and now they're his things. I'm glad they're his things now, it's just strange that they're no longer mine as well.

The big kitchen island isn't mine to clean, the pillows on the couch not mine to position, the black and white canvas that hung in our old living room isn't mine to hang, the country quilt not mine to smooth into some semblance of bed made-ness.

The kids really dig his house, it's a big, old, roomy place a few paces from Main Street where a lot of action goes down. So that's good. Every time I'm there it seems like a herd of children, including Violet and Henry, are roaming around; playing freeze tag, running through sprinklers, happy faces sticky with popsicle.

Yawning my way down I-99 life abruptly dissolved into slow-motion. Turning the steering wheel seemed to take Herculean strength. I stopped to pump gas and it felt like an underwater ballet; turning from car to pump and back again.

What is wrong with me, I thought. How can I be this tired after a full night of sleep? And then it hit me. I had woken up with a splitting headache, stumbled into the bathroom and dry-swallowed an Aleve. As I was putting the pills back in the cabinet I noted they were just 200mg so I shook two more from the plastic container and swallowed those with the hope of obliterating my headache before arriving at work.

Now, as my limbs began to refuse to comply with my brain in a timely fashion it occurred to me that I had purchased that Aleve during the height of Panic Attack City during those first bleak child-free nights after separating from Serge - only having my babies half the time is, by far, the hardest part of the separation - and I had made that Aleve purchase so I could get a few hours of sleep. Aleve PM. Sleeping pills. I had just ingested triple the amount I had been taking at bedtime at eight in the morning on my way in for my second day of work.

Son of a bitch.

By the time I rolled in to the parking lot I was fighting that debilitating heaviness that washes over the body after taking an assload of sleeping pills. Well, shit, I thought. I'm just gonna have to go with this. It's either one of the most horrifying things to have happen on one's second day back in the working world, or the funniest.

I chose funniest. And holy shit, can you imagine meeting eleventy-five new people/learning a new workplace computer scene/attending a news meeting while laboring under the weight of three sleeping pills? So yeah. That was yesterday. Quite the introduction to the whole working world after nearly four years of freelancing from home. However, if I can retain info in that state, tomorrow's going to be a piece of cake, right?

I'm still writing for Babble, same as I always was, and here too... I just couldn't resist the lure of this particular position which is in the social media department. Social media, I thought. Like Facebook and Twitter? Well hell, I do that for free all day long, may as well get paid for it. And who can resist the holy trinity that is medical/dental/vision?

So life is slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy after the explosion of separating from Serge. Debris continues to rain down but it no longer forces me to my knees in pain, it's manageable debris that flutters around, occasionally singeing my skin and then it's gone.

My Boys


Knee-High By The 4th of July

"Yesterday I went with Serge to pick up the keys to his new place and get the kids excited for their new house with him. Then we came back to my house, and Serge spent the afternoon mowing my lawn and packing up his stuff. I made dinner, and we talked about the upcoming moves to our new houses."

If you wanna read this one click on over to Babble.

Minimalist Mentality

The view from my new front porch.

The kitchen of the new house I’m moving to just outside State College, Pennsylvania could fit in the bathroom of my current home. I assure you, this is not an exaggeration. But instead of feeling depressed by the prospect and eventual reality of a small home, I feel excited.

If you want to keep reading about the big changes coming up 'round these parts click on over to Babble.

Moving Ahead But I Still Look Back

Oh, hi. Fancy seeing you here. I thought you stopped coming by and yet here you are. I'm glad you're here. You mean a lot to me. Most of the time I feel like I'm typing away in my quiet little corner of the Internets but every now and again I'll get a glimpse of how invested some of you are in my sweet family and I'm just blown away. So thanks for being here. It makes me feel a little less lonely, an emotion with which I am all too well acquainted with lately.

The messages and comments so many of you have left here and sent on Facebook (go ahead and friend me over there, I'm there even when not here) have meant a lot. I'm always surprised when someone takes the time to send me a few words of encouragement and some of y'all have really great advice. Certain words of yours, sentences, philosophies on life and love and all the rest of it all, have stuck with me and helped light the way through some pretty dark times these past few months.

I know I haven't written much here lately, mostly because I don't know what to write. I'm not interested in blow by blow blogging of all the nonsense that inevitably goes down when a couple decides to separate. Years from now, when all the tumultuous feelings of right now have faded, anything I've written will seem silly and hurtful. And during a separation/divorce, when certain feelings are so ephemeral, writing about anything is particularly risky.

What I'm saying is I think writing about specifics would hurt more than help so you won't read any of that here. Maybe some generalities about adjusting to my new life, otherwise - nada. I know, so disappointing for you! Positivity is so boring. Believe me, I watch The Real Housewives of New York for a reason and it ain't for positivity. But yeah, you will never read anything about this whole thing I wouldn't want my children to read in twenty years. And twenty years from now all they need to know is we tried our hardest but when we began to feel like us being together was more detrimental to them than us being apart we made the decision to separate, take a break and try to gain a little perspective.

Which brings us to here. Now. I don't know what this blog means to me anymore. I have no illusions about any of it like I may have in the past. I just need a place to write what I want to write whether it's hard truths I'm realizing in my life, funny stories or just photos of my kids... Other than that, I don't know. I'm not interested in being something I'm not which probably means no sponsored posts unless I really, really, really dig the thing... Just no more bullshit. I started the blog to write.

Lots of huge changes coming up and I totally plan to keep you posted. Additionally, as many of you are aware, was down for some time while they switched servers or whatever they've been up to over there but they're back up now with a new site design (still somewhat under construction) but you can read my latest post, How My Baby Is Wise Beyond His Months, over there if you like.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for caring.