Oh yes we did.

First we did this.

What do you do when you're told to pretend you're not 

a couple so as to not offend someone?

 This.

And then we did this.

I haven't been able to find my van in parking lots since I got Maryland plates.  

Problem solved.

We are ridiculous.

(And happy, in case you're wondering.)

  The End.

Life, Phase Two

 (No, I'm not pregnant, thanks for asking.)

It's been a month since I loaded up the kids and the cats and began this second phase of my life.

So far so good.

We unpacked the last box in the new house two days ago.  It probably would have been two weeks ago, but we hit a road block when it came to decorating.  Not because we disagree on style--we can sit down with a Pottery Barn catalog and fully decorate our dream house in less than ten minutes with nary a disagreement.  But our chotchkies and framed prints? They came with emotional baggage that neither of us expected.  For an entire day it was nothing but wooden chickens and tears. So there it all sat, all of the mementos of our former lives, piled in the dining room until we figured it out.

Luckily, we're really good at figuring it out.

(We decided to go with this theme throughout the entire house.)

And because finalizing our divorces, moving into a new place, blending our families, and starting a new life together wasn't quite enough stress, we decided to take a 10 hour road trip to Maine last weekend.  Marianne was able to meet a lot of my family and one of my old high school friends. As far as I could tell, they liked her.

The best part for me was seeing my family at ease around her.  For 16 years I've felt like my family was always on their best behavior around  The Former Husband (who will be referred to as TFH from here on out).  In all fairness, he never asked them to be.  But I know my family.  I know the language they use and the stories they tell, and that rarely came out around him.

But last weekend visiting them with Marianne was completely different.  I knew it was different when my mother told a story in front of her that I can't even repeat here (let's just say it involved zucchini).  I knew it was different when she bought beer to share at my aunt's house. I knew it was different when religion was discussed with my old friend and no one was offended and I didn't want to vomit from anxiety. Not only can I be me with her, but so can everyone else.  I haven't enjoyed a visit with my family this much in a long time.

(Also? I knew it was different when she, a New England girl herself, pronounced Worcester correctly.) (Woostah, in case you're curious.)

Anyway, the point is that things are going well.  And I'm happy.  I'm happy in a way I didn't know was possible. 

Why yes, I AM still alive.

Internets, I have been neglecting you.  But I have a good reason.  Tomorrow is my kids' last day of school, which means it's been a busy couple of weeks leading up to it.  And I'm having a Lupus flare up that makes me want to sleep for a year.  Oh, and I'm moving in nine days.

NINE DAYS.  Maybe even seven.  We'll see how that works out.

I am so unprepared for this move.  Time seemed to drag on FOREVER, and I didn't do a whole lot to get ready.  But now it's here and I still haven't done nearly as much as I should have at this point.  I'm looking at some long hours over the next week.  Wish me luck.

And while you're at it, one of you buy this for me?  Pretty please?  I really, really want it. (The chair I REALLY want is out of stock, probably forever. This is my second choice.) It would make a lovely housewarming gift.  And my birthday is in a few months. And I'm about to be living on an unemployed housewife salary.  Thank you in advance.

(If any of you decide to take me seriously, you can buy it HERE.  

I can even go pick it up at the store to save on shipping. 

And I will send you an autographed picture of me sitting in it while eating 

Nutella straight out of the jar, with a side of bacon. That's worth it right there. )

I'll be back when my house is packed.  Or maybe when the new house is unpacked.  We'll see.  I even have a non-divorce, non-moving related post half written.  No, really!  One of these days this will be a normal blog again.

Just not today.

Seven Children?!

Did you read the title in Julie Andrews' voice?

 I'm already working on whistle calls for them all.

Every time I think of life after June 1st, I hear Maria from The Sound of Music saying that line, completely incredulous at the thought of that many kids. Seven children?!  Yes, seven children.

O.K., so for all intents and purposes, there will only be six children.  The seventh is about to graduate from high school, and while I hope she visits and feels like our house is her second home, she won't be living with us.

But still. That's six children.   And two moms.  And two cats.  And a part time hamster.

We're like a modern day Brady Bunch, just with better hair, more diversity, 100%
less sexual tension between Greg and Marsha, and no live in maid.  Someone call TLC--I see the makings of a new reality show here!

It's going to be a huge adjustment for us all.

These are kids who have been raised in different households with different rules, and now we have the very daunting task of blending them into one. And as alike as Marianne and myself are in our thinking, there are things we do very differently.

Like, paper towels for example.  I use the far superior Scott.  And I keep them conveniently on a counter-top holder.  Marianne uses Bounty. And insists they be kept on a wall mounted holder.

While I was visiting her last month, I had the audacity to put Scott paper towels on her (wall mounted) holder.  She and her kids tolerated it for approximately eleven minutes before they were replaced with Bounty (The Lintier, Pricier Picker-Upper). And now I will forever be known as the evil step mother with bad taste in paper towels. And napkins, apparently.

But thank goodness we all like to wipe our butts with Charmin.  That could have been a relationship ender.

Anyway.

It's going to be a big change for all of us.  Some of those changes are going to be really good, some will be really hard. But I'm confident we'll make it work.  Our priorities are making sure the kids know that all the adults in their life love them,  making sure none of them feel like mere visitors in either of their homes, and helping them stay connected with the parent they're not with at the time.  I feel like if we can accomplish those things, we'll be doing alright. I hope.

Some of you have asked about what my specific plans are for the future.

At the end of May I'll load up a  moving truck with everything I own, sedate the cats (and maybe the kids), and drive to Maryland.  Marianne and I signed a lease on a house just north of Washington D.C., which we will all (six kids, two moms, two cats and part time hamster) move into on June first.  My kids will have about a week to settle into the house they'll share with me, and then they'll spend the rest of the Summer with Will, getting settled into the house they'll share with him in Georgia.

And that's as far as my plans go.  I'll be looking for a job, so hopefully that will be part of the plan, too.

Beyond that, I think the plan is to be happy.
Really, really happy.

America's Favorite Cookie

I received the following e-mail this week:

"God has no place in His kingdom for non-believers, adulterers, gays and those who mix races. You are all of those things. You are evil personified."

Non-believer?  Sure, at least for much of the religion this person belongs to.  Adulterer?  Yes, unfortunately.  Gay?  I guess, technically, although I don't really think of myself as gay. I just happen to love a woman.  But race mixer? What?

SHE'S BLACK????  Why didn't anyone tell me this before?  I had no idea! 

This changes everything.

Still the Best Week Ever

Every year I find myself wanting to write pages and pages about my week in the Outer Banks with some of the best people on the planet, but every year I end up writing the same thing.  We talked a lot.  We laughed a lot.  We ate a lot.  There was knitting and copious amounts of wine consumption.  There was the daily frolicking of the dolphins as we watched them from the upper deck of the house.  Just like every year, it was paradise.

And really?  I can't tell most of the stories that are worth telling.  Some of them wouldn't make sense unless you were there.  And some of them...well, what happens at BGW stays at BGW.  So, I'm just gong to throw a million pictures at you instead.  I promise you'll be rewarded for your patience at the end.

 

My sister Hailie, my cousin Renae, my friend Lindsey, my (insert appropriate label here) Marianne, and I left Maryland early Saturday morning.  We made a pit stop in Virginia to visit our friend Brie, who wasn't able to make it this year.  

 After six hours, we made it to the beach.

 Lindsey, who owned a cupcakery that just so happened to be featured on The Bachelor this season, made the official cupcake of Bad Girls' Week. Coconut lime. And they are divine. (I'm a poet and didn't know it.)

Chris, who is a cosmetologist AND a masseuse, stayed busy all week.

I got a hair cut AND a massage.  My favorite part was when she she beat me up at the end. I think if I get a massage again in the future, I'll ask them to skip all the rubbing and just spend the whole thirty minutes punching and karate chopping me. No, seriously.

The famous giant boobs made an appearance. Of course.

At least she doesn't sparkle.

 There was a baby this year.  Technically, he was there last year, too.  

But he was a fetus, and we couldn't eat his chubby thighs. 

 

 Best lunch ever.  Five of us ordered every single appetizer at a little wine and cheese place.  

And ate all of it.

One of the nights we all got dolled up and went to dinner at Dirty Dick's Crab House.  It's not really a wear your formal wear sort of place--I mean, there are rolls of paper towels on the tables-- but seventeen of us showed up in our finery anyway.   It was so much fun, and the food was great.  And really, we were doing them a favor.  It's the off season.  We were pretty much the only people in the whole place.  Seventeen women in ball gowns and cocktail dresses showing up was probably the most exciting to happen to them all winter.

We took up four tables.

 

 

The cutest kangaroos you ever did see.

 

One of these women travels with a machete.

Not even kidding. 

 

 After we left Dirty Dick's, we stopped by the fire department for a bonfire permit.  

Lindsey made a friend. He gave her a hat.

 Late night beach bonfires are the best.

 THE END

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

 

First, I want to thank all of you for the lovely comments and messages.  The response was overwhelmingly positive.  I honestly didn't expect that, so THANK YOU.

So, what's a girl to do after she makes a life-altering announcement for all the world to see?  She escapes to the (freezing cold, deserted) beach, of course.

This is the fourth year running that I have met up with a dozen or so friends for a week away in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.  This is the week I look forward to more than any other the entire year, and this year I need it more than I ever have.

I'll try to post throughout the week like I usually do, but no promises.

I may just decide to not leave the couch at all.  

You can read about the previous years' meet ups HERE, HERE, and HERE.