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still divorcing
Apr. 2nd, 2017 07:04 pmFrom the Dept. of Delayed Divorce, Ex and I finally got around to splitting up the cell phone bill. All three of us used to be on one bill, which Ex (!) was paying. Now, more reasonably, the kiddo & I go on one and she's off on her own. I forgot that we were paying for two tablets that we don't use. Oy. They get cancelled tomorrow.
And on a related note, if you remember almost exactly a year ago, I agreed to have m'boy at my place on weekdays and send him to Ex on the weekends. That hasn't been optimal for quite a while - since July, says the Wendling - because he now works much closer to Ex's place than mine. And once he restarts school, getting there is also easier from her place than mine. So, starting next month, my son will be with my ex on days when he's working, which are usually but not always weekdays, and with me the rest of the time. I've warned him that he may hear lesbian sex if he's here on the weekends, and gotten the predictable cringe from him. Just kidding: I would subject neither him nor a date to that if I could help it. But hey, if they were copacetic, you're reading the words of someone who's had sex in a room full of third parties. A lot of third parties.
I'm not sure whether I'd rather have him here on weekends or weeknights. On the one hand, if he's here less, that's less stressful on me, and he isn't commuting his life away. On the other hand, Ex isn't that good at launching m'boy when he needs to be launched. Given the lack of social action (apart from m'boy) in my apartment lately, that aspect is probably a wash. I note that Brown Eyes doesn't seem to mind driving anywhere anytime, and sleepovers at my lake place are impractical for the Tickler.
While we three were driving around today, m'boy found a months-old voice mail from Exdad wishing him happy birthday. Exdad, if you'll recall, has been dead for about six weeks. Poor Ex started crying as she drove. She'd mentioned earlier that losing him had been hard, messing with her daily life. I couldn't help reminding her that she used to tell me to, in essence, just get over my own father's death because it was so long ago.
"That sounds like something my mother would say," she said. Yup, it sure is. That's usually not a good sign, and Ex knows it. She points out that she's no longer the person I was married to, for better and for worse, and my criticism of her past self is a trifle unfair. Yeah, I guess it is, but I can now say that I'm not mad at her for it anymore. She acquired some empathy for me in about the worst way she could have.
And on a related note, if you remember almost exactly a year ago, I agreed to have m'boy at my place on weekdays and send him to Ex on the weekends. That hasn't been optimal for quite a while - since July, says the Wendling - because he now works much closer to Ex's place than mine. And once he restarts school, getting there is also easier from her place than mine. So, starting next month, my son will be with my ex on days when he's working, which are usually but not always weekdays, and with me the rest of the time. I've warned him that he may hear lesbian sex if he's here on the weekends, and gotten the predictable cringe from him. Just kidding: I would subject neither him nor a date to that if I could help it. But hey, if they were copacetic, you're reading the words of someone who's had sex in a room full of third parties. A lot of third parties.
I'm not sure whether I'd rather have him here on weekends or weeknights. On the one hand, if he's here less, that's less stressful on me, and he isn't commuting his life away. On the other hand, Ex isn't that good at launching m'boy when he needs to be launched. Given the lack of social action (apart from m'boy) in my apartment lately, that aspect is probably a wash. I note that Brown Eyes doesn't seem to mind driving anywhere anytime, and sleepovers at my lake place are impractical for the Tickler.
While we three were driving around today, m'boy found a months-old voice mail from Exdad wishing him happy birthday. Exdad, if you'll recall, has been dead for about six weeks. Poor Ex started crying as she drove. She'd mentioned earlier that losing him had been hard, messing with her daily life. I couldn't help reminding her that she used to tell me to, in essence, just get over my own father's death because it was so long ago.
"That sounds like something my mother would say," she said. Yup, it sure is. That's usually not a good sign, and Ex knows it. She points out that she's no longer the person I was married to, for better and for worse, and my criticism of her past self is a trifle unfair. Yeah, I guess it is, but I can now say that I'm not mad at her for it anymore. She acquired some empathy for me in about the worst way she could have.
