It's crazy the way I think, almost every day, that I'm going to post something and then don't because really, what is there to say? Nothing that can't be dashed out in a random thought on facebook at any rate. The obscure You Tube song or link to something on HuffPo, that my dog is old and sick or that I am. Always, I wait for something big to happen before I take to the page here. Something definitive, life altering, good news, some sort of resolve.
I've been out of 'anxiety' treatment for a year now, half a year spent on the messy business of one failed attempt at vasectomy reversal after another and half a year in tears as I try to imagine having to live in a world knowing I'll never have a baby with the love of my life. I'll never have any more babies at all. The pregnant teenaged daughter of dear family friends had pen to the adoption papers when she miscarried, that didn't help. At almost 42, what options still remain can't help but be a foolish investment. We asked the universe for a bebe and whether we like the outcome or not, we have our answer.
The bankruptcy we chose as a desperate means of getting rid of our unhappy, impractical house didn't help either. It doesn't help that my husbands ex DID have his babies and because of this I live in St Louis, a place I don't guess I hate but have no wish to live in, because of this, a great deal of my life is dictated by her wants and needs and petty meanness. I haven't worked, I haven't created, I've barely lived. I sleep and cry.
If you think any of this does very little to make for a happy, satisfying marriage, you'd be right.
I don't reckon we'll separate, traditionally we have been like that old wisteria bush in my mama's yard, she'd poison it, hack it down and God, it didn't look like much, but it'd be back in no time just the same whether anyone actually wanted it or not. And this marriage, sometimes we don't. Anytime they feel like it, external forces drill holes into the roots and pour in poison. It's no way to live. I'd elaborate on boundaries and all but in practice? This is her family, her life I'm living on the outskirts of and she's prone to cheerful manipulations as if it's what everyone does.
Of special concern is my particular job skill set. Newspaper reporting, advertising and flight attendanting aren't especially recession proof and I've got enough money to survive going back to school only until Bo Peep graduates high school. Three and a half years now, not long.
But I come by a plan. My exhusband/baby daddy was and is a drug counselor (coursework that I naturally participated in somewhat and loved) and I'm mostly done with my BA in educational psychology or some damn thing as it is. The course work to be licensed in Texas is minimal and could certainly be done in conjunction with finishing a BA degree. After that, I'd be bona fide to work as a Counselor Intern, working on an MA on the side. Dandy plan but there is still the matter of Peep graduating high school. She's happy enough with her current school, but there's the matter too of her aforementioned daddy. Whatever he amounted to as a husband, he's been a world class father and deserves these last years of her childhood. The notion of moving a potentially angsty 9th grader is another episode entirely, but there, yes.
So I think Austin. So many dear friends there, family ties, educational opportunities and hell...it's Austin. I briefly consider Georgetown before recognizing that a Socialist isn't always the most welcome new neighbor in Georgetown, Texas and kept on looking, shopping by school district for potential new places to live, the thought of my poor theater freak having to settle into a high school of 3,000 football enthusiasts has long been a huge detriment. Huge y'all. Suddenly I come across something so magical I wake up the next morning wondering if it had even been real at all. http://kapschool.org:8080/KAPS/welcome.html
(Lookit it or not, in short it's a 125 student charter high school sans football program but with yoga instruction!) At this point, I'd move just to give her the opportunity to graduate the Katherine Anne Porter School. And be closer to her daddy. And be home
. I've shown her the website as a lark and she was impressed to be sure but we'll keep it at that for now...mama has a plan. Mama is more excited than I've been in some time. Dr. Taylor will begin looking for a job and I'll keep the basement packed up in neat boxes.
And we'll see. It's something.