I was talking to someone at work today who’s had a serious streak of bad luck/karma/ickiness lately. I jokingly asked her if she’d clubbed a baby seal in a past life or something.  Today I’m feeling sorry for myself, like I’ve had my own baby seal mass clubbing genocidal rampage in my previous life.

It’s such a cliché to say that life isn’t fair.  You can be a very bad person, make very bad decisions, hurt people, leave wreckage behind for someone else to clean up and yet, you still may come out ahead.

It isn’t fair that you can work your ass off and have someone take your hard-earned results just because they can.

It isn’t fair that you can be the cause of so much pain and turmoil, and still expect the person you hurt to continue to give to you.

It isn’t fair that children are stuck in the middle, desperate for some stability and sanity with the adults in their lives.

And it certainly isn’t fair that greed and poor moral fiber and a general sense of entitlement affects the lives of those who never wanted to be involved with you in the first place.

Never have I felt so completely beaten down and frustrated with a situation over which I have no control.  It seems to drag on endlessly.  Most unfortunate, there is no good outcome for anyone involved.

Sometimes I kick myself for decisions I made a while back.  Based on the information I had at the time, they seemed sound enough.  I wonder if all the hell and frustration I’m feeling now is my own personal penance, my punishment, for my own transgressions in my actions against other people.  Maybe watching the suffering of my friend is appropriate and just desserts for the pain I have put others through.  Maybe it’s just life and there is no reason why things happen or don’t happen.

I keep thinking about my parents, and all the years they owned a business.  It never seemed to matter what the situation was – whenever the law was involved, they always ended up on the losing side.  Try to run a business honestly, you pay.  Try to reward your employees, you pay.  Work hard, be a good father, a good husband – you’re going to pay too.

The dark, niggling fear that consumes me late at night:  am I witnessing my significant other’s hell up close and personal because I did the very same thing to my ex?

Then I become rational, reasonable, and begin to list out the ways in which my situation was so different, from the reasons why I got married in the first place, to having children, to our finances, to the way we ended things, to the way we communicate now.

No matter how I seem to look at it, though, turning it this way and that in my head, I feel almost as though I personally deserve this, and that this form of limbo is closer to the Catholic concept of hell than it is to being stuck in the middle, between good and bad.

I know I’ve mentioned it before, but one thing I’m really proud of in my own divorce is the way my ex and I have handled any issues with the girls, especially regarding how we discuss the girlfriend/boyfriend in each of our lives.  My ex’s girlfriend is actively involved in both girls lives. Has it been weird?  Yeah, of course.  Am I threatened by her? No.  She fills a role in their life, and right now that role is fun for all of them and full of exciting and new things.  She doesn’t have kids of her own, and is able to focus on mine.  Sometimes that is weird for me.  That’s the best word I can think of for it.  At the end of the day, though, I trust my ex’s judgment.  I know he will put good people around the kids we had together.  And I’m pretty sure he feels the same way about me. 

So yes, I know that we are more on the “fantasy” side of divorced parents sharing custody of their kids.  I get it.  I get that most divorces and custody arrangements are ugly and drawn out for years.  The kids pay the price, and so does everyone touched by that kind of poison.  I felt so grateful I had dodged that particular bullet, though I’m peppered straight through with many other kinds of ammunition.

What I didn’t consider was how much damage and anger my boyfriend’s soon-to-be legal ex-wife was going to cause. 

I mean, people are reasonable, right?  Both parents love their children, and want what’s best for them, and frankly, we can say that what’s best for a child is an amorphous thing, but really, it normally isn’t that hard to figure out what hurts them less and how to behave around them.  Even if I felt ill will toward my ex’s girlfriend, and I do not - I would NEVER (capitalization necessary) discuss that in front of my children, or tell them bad things about her, or try to turn them against her.  My children have enough strife in their life without worrying about how their mom feels about their dad’s girlfriend. 

Unfortunately Running Boy’s ex doesn’t feel that way. 

Much as I’d love to lay her open right here, it won’t do any good.  It might actually do some harm.  So I’m going to keep this general.  I’m not allowed to send this directly to her, so I’m just going to write it here and hope that the universe, God, or whatever she believes in will give her some peace so she can in turn give it back to her children.

Dear ___:

I know we’ve never officially met.  That’s been partly due to the fact that neither of us has any desire to meet, but also because I am afraid to meet you.  Some days I harbor such intense anger and disbelief surrounding you that I fear a face to face meeting would result in all sorts of words coming out from behind my filter, and we all know that’s not going to be good.  But I’m going to put that aside for a minute and introduce myself.

Hi.  I’m the girlfriend of your ex-husband.  I’ve been around for quite a while and I am not going anywhere.  I have two children of my own; I believe you’ve heard lots about them from your own two children.  I just have a couple of things to remind you of, as well as a couple of things to ask of you.  If you can do these things, we’ll get along just fine in the future.

First, the reminder parts. 

You left him.  YOU left.  You chose to end it.  When you end things, you don’t get to dictate the future.  You don’t get to say, “I don’t love you anymore and I want out” and still try to set rules about who he can date, when, and how.  Additionally, communication is an amazing thing.  Say what you want and say what you mean and you might get better results.  Waiting until court to throw a bunch of crap out into the air doesn’t help anyone.  If you have concerns about him, or me, or our life together - speak up.  I know it’s hard and weird but it’s necessary. 

Second reminder.  YOU left.  I realize that sounds like the first, but in this case, I mean it in a different manner.  You wanted out.  You got out.  But maliciously attempting to destroy his life (and I still don’t get where all your anger comes from, but I’m guessing you don’t either - in that case, therapy is a real life-saver) isn’t helping and it’s hurting his kids.  The amount of money the two of you are spending in legal fees equals a Harvard education for at least one of your two kids.  Keep it up and I’m sure we can get another 4 years of ivy league paid out in legal fees.  Is it best for your kids to be attending community college because you blew through every ounce of money you once had fighting over 40% custody versus 60%?  Or a couch that was worth $1000 10 years ago?  Trust me.  It isn’t worth it. 

Oh, I know I sound a bit self-righteous.  I made many, many mistakes in my marriage and in the ensuing aftermath.  But that’s my crap and I have to live with myself every day for it.  However, I never attempted to make my ex pay or give me things that weren’t mine to take, WHETHER I WAS LEGALLY ENTITLED TO OR NOT.  I resent you trying to ruin him in your need for the almighty dollar.  I resent you continuing your path knowing full well there is no good end result for yourself, yet you’re going to see it through to the bitter end.  Most of all,  I resent you dragging two innocent children into your issues, and I resent having to deal with you.  I’ve earned some peace in my life, whether you believe me or not.  And nothing about the way you act is peaceful, whole, or healthy. 

My requests: 

Please, no matter how you feel about me - leave me out of your discussions with your children.  I made the dire miscalculation to take your 4 year old daughter out to have a manicure with me.  It’s something my kids have always enjoyed doing with me and I felt like she needed a little extra attention.  Apparently, in your words:  “____(me) is not your mother and she shouldn’t be doing your nails.”  Interesting that nail polish makes you a mom.  Apparently nail polish is the domain of the mother, but making sure your 4 year old’s birthday is recognized (in your words, what kid needs a party every year???), is the domain of girlfriends and other family and friends.  How fun it must have been for your ex and my boyfriend to hear his daughter say that I am not supposed to be caring for her in any way or showing her love or attention.  Are you that insecure that you can’t allow me to do anything nice for your children?  The next time your son runs a high fever, should I withhold a cool washcloth for his forehead because again, that is a “mother’s job”?  God forbid I step on your toes by reading a story, sharing a hug or fixing popcorn for your children.  If you can’t change this, then please provide me a numbered or bulleted list of all the items that fall to the “real” mother so I can avoid those in the future. 

Here’s the deal - when we leave husbands, we also accept the fact that we are not going to be with our kids 100% of the time.  And frankly, if someone is around my girls when they are sick or tired or just feeling lonely and can provide them some solace, a washcloth, or a band-aid, I’m completely okay with it.  Why can’t you be?  Can you truly grow up and let go?  Saying mean things about me or making your little girl feel strange about allowing me in her life really isn’t helpful to anyone, even if it makes you feel better when you do it. 

My part of the deal is that I will not try to replace you as their mother.  I couldn’t even if I wanted to.  My ex’s girlfriend won’t replace me either.  More people to love children is never a bad thing.  Remove your head from your ass and take a hard look at where you are directing your misery.  Because yes, it’s bugging your ex and it’s bugging the crap out of me.  However, it’s doing worse than bugging your children.  You are hurting them, as surely as you wouldn’t let them play in traffic or eat dirt or leave dirty needles around your apartment. 

And I mean this from one mother to another:  honey, it would help all of us if you’d stop worrying so much about everyone else and start looking at your own parenting skills.  When your daughter runs a fever and has trouble breathing or is acting out of it, suck it up and take her to the doctor instead of leaving it for your ex to deal with.  Stop throwing stones at other people who are just trying to help and spend some time looking into the roots of your own miserable behavior.  Take the time you have with your kids and LOVE them.  Focus on them, not on all the other things you aren’t “getting” or “losing”. 

Because, as I’ve told your ex many times over now . . . if you wanted all of those things, all you had to do was stay married to him. 

Divorce requires so many sacrifices. Many of them you don’t even realize until you stumble blindly into that wall.  Part of your realization is going to be that your ex is happier now.  His life has moved forward.  Your kids are surviving and doing well, even if you make poor decisions sometimes. 

Frankly, if the worst thing your kids have to experience is another woman who loves and cares about them, your kids are pretty lucky.  Just as mine are lucky to have someone to love them when I’m not around, and do things like paint their nails or braid their hair. 

xoxoxo,

The ex’s girlfriend

This working thing has really been killing my bloguctivity, but yes, I’m still here. 

Many things have happened since I last confessed my sins.  In no particular order of importance . . .

Running:  One more race and I’m officially done until January.  I’m doing a local Thanksgiving Day race.  I didn’t do the half marathon last weekend as I had planned (and trained for) - mostly because my body hurts in weird places and frankly, running 3 last year was enough.  I dropped down to the 8k and had my best race of the season.  I am definitely a cold weather runner.  I ran consistently and quickly (considering how I’ve been running).  I had enough energy that during the last mile to really push myself.  Flying down the final hill to the finish line, I remembered why running is so addictive.  But since then, I haven’t had the urge to do it . . . probably because I’m exhausted, busy, and fighting a cold.  I won’t be able to run until January due to some surgery looming on December 2nd.  It’s nothing major but it requires me to not lift anything over 10 lbs for a month and NO exercise except for walking.  Whee-haaah, I’m going to be insane. 

Work: Really, really busy.  Incredibly busy.  Working on higher level stuff than I’d dared to hope for.  Trying to stay on top of it while navigating the enormity of the organization.  I’m still enjoying the structure and the brain power there, and I’m still not taking the free pens and post-it notes for granted.

I’m Petty and Hurt: I’m mostly over what happened before and after the separation and subsequent divorce from my husband.  Sometimes, though, I discover a landmine under my unsuspecting and blissfully stupid feet. Just when I think I’m immune to those old pains, it detonates and I’m left dazed and muddy, wondering what the hell just happened.  This happened recently.  I want to think that I am a bigger person, that I am not the type to let things bother me, especially petty things. But I’m not big enough yet - and maybe I never will be.  Out of the many things that happened during the worst period of my life, some are still so painful I have to look at them briefly, then look away for a month or two.  I can’t really delve into them because there is no good outcome and there never will be.  It’s just an ugly part of my life that cannot be changed or redrawn no matter how many times I poke it with a stick. 

One of those things was the loss of many friends - 2 in particular - that were nearly as painful as the loss of my marriage.  I’ve managed to come to terms with it, but only in the sense that it isn’t fixable and there is nothing anyone can do to repair it. 

To understand the issue I have to explain the background.  I was the social one in my marriage.  I was the one interested in outings, having friends over, going places, doing things, couples dates, etc.  When I didn’t put them together, they didn’t happen.  I don’t think my ex would disagree with this; he acknowledged it many times during discussions.  He wasn’t all that interested.  He had me, he had his work, and later he had the girls.  I always admired (and despised) his ability to be so content with so few things. 

That being said, he wasn’t all that interested in any of my friends either.  He was polite, went out when asked to, acted socially and attended parties.  But he was never attached or involved with any of them.  So you can imagine my surprise when years after this has all happened, I am reminded that he’s still talking to the one person I’m smarting the most over losing.  Especially when it is dropped casually in the car by my children’s random chatter.  Which lead to Lily asking me why I wasn’t friends with her anymore.  Which lead to a discussion I really didn’t want to have, but had anyway.  I answered her question as truthfully as I could without saying anything bad about anyone and also letting her know that occasionally even best friends have arguments that can’t be patched. 

(on another note, I find it interesting that I am still not willing to drop a bunch of our marital or friendship dirty laundry here - I guess I am “big enough” on some levels to act appropriately). 

After that discussion, I was left wondering what the motivation for both of my exes (ex-husband, ex-friend) is.  You could say that keeping our children in touch with each other is a “good thing”.  After all, many of their early milestones were spent together.  But . . . really?  It would be like me trying to get in touch with his law school friends and hang out with them and their children.  I realize part of what makes me ugly is that I did honestly classify people as “mine” and “his”. I don’t think it’s all that uncommon, but admitting I’ve gone down that road is icky.  And she was definitely “my” friend.  Every time I hear about them getting together, I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.  There is part of me who also mourns the fact that I won’t get to see her child grow up, a child I loved like my own.  So this means I should be happy my kids will, but I’m not.  I’m not happy about any of it.  In short, anything that reminds me of her and that situation hurts so much I can’t bear it.  I’m frustrated and sad - at myself for caring about it, and at them for continuing to talk. 

I could write 5,000 pages on everything that happened over the years to make me snap when I did during my relationship with her.  But I’m not going to.  I’ve hashed it all out over the years in therapy, and I’m done with it.  It will always hurt but I also realized that the letter I had written to her was never going to be sent.  I didn’t want to talk about anything, which was really the first time in my life I accepted that I couldn’t - and didn’t want to - fix something that was broken.  I needed to be okay with her thinking I just went crazy and accept that she has one view of what happened.  There was no real point in trying to explain how I got to that point, because it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. 

So the question is now how I handle her infrequent interactions with my children, and how I handle processing why in a million years my ex would even be slightly interested in maintaining a relationship with her.  Still working on this issue and trying to find a way to be a better person. 

[Someone asked me recently if I thought she, or my ex, or my ex’s girlfriend reads this blog.  No idea - but if they do - hi to all of you.  I am positive I would never read anything like this if they were the ones writing it, but if it gives them a charge or helps them feel superior, more intelligent, and more together than I am, I’m happy to provide that platform.]

Running Boy:  Running Boy and I are still, well, running.  Sometimes it feels like that’s all we ever do.  I’d love to be able to say things are going to calm down, but they won’t.  The facts: between us there are 4 kids, 4 custody schedules, one bitter and unhappy ex-wife and 2 dogs.  I’ve had to accept some facts that are very hard for me.  In my fantasy world, I had a view of how my future would look and though I am very happy now, and feel settled and at peace with my life, the real vision of how things will need to be in order to function is very different than my original feeling.  I’ll get into details at some point when it’s more appropriate to do so, but let’s just say that I really wish I didn’t live in a highly conservative state right now.  The laws here that dictate what is right or wrong really bother me.  In short, the fact remains that from a strictly legal perspective, it’s ok to have different men in and out of your life (and your kid’s lives).  It’s not ok to have a serious committed relationship, however, because if one lives with another in the Commonwealth of Virginia without being married, your custody is up for discussion.  It’s really freaking bizarre. 

In the meantime, we have lots of fun, we rile each other’s children before bed time, run together, talk about how love makes you fat and generally enjoy life.  We both have earned some time to enjoy. I’m hopeful that very, very soon he’ll be one step closer to real freedom, or as free as one can get when you have children with someone else. 

In December, we’re celebrating our first year together.  Not sure what we’re doing yet, but hopefully it will involve a lot of either skiing, spa-like excesses, sleep or running.

State Hospital:

In a completely unrelated and almost bizarre manner, a friend posted this video on Facebook today.  The State Hospital in Traverse City was always one of my favorite places there. My earliest memory of the grounds dates back to elementary school. I had to do a leaf collecting project, and the State Hospital was famous for having a huge variety of trees.  I still remember my dad helping me pull a ginkgo leaf off while we compared it to a page in my textbook.  It was beautiful, albeit scary - too much crumbling brick and decay, but fascinating.  The video really captures all I loved about it.

(source)

Whooo-boy, I’m officially tired.  The last week has felt like that annoying commercial of the person trying to swim in a pool filled with caramel.  Everything is going so very fast, yet it seems to take forever.  My brain works overtime during the day, trying to comprehend the many new things I’m trying to cram into it.  I attempt to cram a run into my body in the 40 minutes I have after work and before kid pick up.  Pick ups have me on edge; I take deep breaths before getting the girls from their after-school care.  They are necessary, the girding of the loins so to speak, because Arden is usually angry about something and Lily is usually sulking about something.  Both of them place the blame squarely on the school, but only because they are kind enough to not hurt my feelings by reminding me once again how I screwed up their lives going back to work full time.  Then it’s time to rush home, cram dinner in their tiny bodies that are trying to grow (but not fast enough, according to the pediatrician), and make it to whatever class they are signed up for.  By the end of the night, I’m wiped out and wondering if this is ever going to get easier.

And it will.  Right now certain activities are being dictated to me, and for right now, I’m going along with it.  Once this week is over, I will be able to impose more calm to the current chaos, and I think both of the girls will respond well to having some downtime and perhaps be less grumpy.  I don’t really blame them; this anti-superwoman is pretty cranky herself. 

The positives:  I do love my job.  On a conference call today, all my old coaching skills came back and I found myself leading a discussion with an attorney about how best to position the firm in this particular situation.  It was natural to me, and it wasn’t until after, when my boss commented on it, that I realized I still have most of my brain cells and can occasionally leverage them for other people’s benefit. 

I LOVE working downtown.  I know many people think it’s a drag - the drive, the tolls, the homeless bugging you for your spare pennies . . . but I love all of it.  Well, not the tolls.  I love getting out of the suburbs every day.  I love learning the names of the security guards on the bottom floor of my building.  I love rapidly changing out of my uncomfortable 2.5” heels into my running shoes, and heading out across one of the many bridges spanning the James River, just 2 blocks up from my office.  Or I’ll run up to Broad Street and distract myself with the amazing people watching; the runs go by quickly and my steaming brain, cooked beyond recognition, begins to reset and still in the sweating cage of my skull. 

The honest truth is that yes, I made the right decision, and no, it hasn’t been easy.  There are things going on with the ex that really bother me, but I’m not able to discuss them here and I’m certainly not able to discuss them with him.  At least not now.  Things that bothered me about him during the marriage are now quite huge and ugly; I’m sure he feels the same way about me.  And sometimes the idea that we are tied together, trying to coparent and raise children together for another decade plus, feels overwhelming. 

Add Running Boy’s ex who is still legally his wife and all of their issues and the mixing and melding of our combined four children and you start to get the picture of why, on random nights like tonight, I just want to tell everyone to go pound salt and drink a martini while lounging in bed. 

The silver lining in all this is that after the last two years, I’ve become an expert on myself and my limits.  When I begin to feel like I’m doing and doing and doing for everyone else, I need to reel it back in, back down, sleep more, be kind, be relaxed.  I know that I’ve hit the wall mentally, at least for a little while, and I need to just chill on worrying about everyone else.  This kind of behavior is ingrained in me, so it’s going to be a life-long struggle.  The best I can do for others is to simply state what is bothering me, and what I am able to offer, and move on.  It’s ironic that I was just telling someone I run with to stop fighting so hard and just “be the rock in the stream”.  In other words, instead of walking against the current, trying to envision yourself as a polished stone with everything just flowing around you.  You can observe the water, but it doesn’t affect your position or life.  This kind of new-age crap talk really works well for me, except I can never remember to do it.  It seemed to help the person I was running with, but I promptly forgot it and by the time I got home tonight I was wound so tightly you could have used me as a slingshot. 

I’m ready for better, less chaotic times.  The financial pressure easing from me has been a huge source of peace, but it’s going to take a couple of months for me to catch up and really start saving for a house.  I’m ready to stop finding new ways that my divorce has damaged me or my kids.  I want to make amends and move on, instead of just saying the words outloud and hoping they come true. 

Whoa, there’s been a lot happening up in this joint. 

• Work:
I’ve been looking half-heartedly for work because part-time is hard to come by, and I’ve had nothing but brick walls on the full time front.  I meant to blog about my abysmal and soul-sucking interview at an ad agency.  It lasted approximately 10 minutes and left me wanting to gut myself on the hipster stairway just to make the owner clean it up.  (Next time you will only hire someone with agency experience, don’t waste my time as it’s clear from my resume I have never worked for a traditional ad agency.  However, I have run my own for the past 9 years and could do this job with 2 hands tied behind my back, but never mind).  I had decided to stop looking completely as theoretically, nap mat season is right around the corner.  I keep waiting to round the corner.  Last year my season started in June; this year it seems to be off to a slow start.  I’m not going to lie. It’s freaking me out.  However, I’ve been really focusing on my site and adding new products left and right, writing new copy, trying to make Google direct the universe to me.  It’s paid off somewhat.  My friend Meg is an operations manager at a large pool company, and she is my sometimes-running buddy.  She had to can her admin earlier and called me to see if I wanted to help her out for the summer.  Hell, yes!  It’s just slightly better than minimum wage but I can work a few hours every day, help her out, and go home to finish out the day working on nap mats and other projects.  It’s some steady income I desperately need and might actually help me put some money back in the bank.  I haven’t done pure admin stuff in a long while but I’m looking forward to it.  Working in an office with people is exciting, as is helping keep things together in a fast-paced environment. I love being busy and organizing projects and procedures.  I’m not sure how I’m going to fit my exercise schedule into my life, but I’ll have to deal with it.  I got panicky just thinking about how I was going to be able to ride or swim when the better part of the day is taken up with work like normal people, but I’ll have to find a way and be flexible.  Because I have the kids so much during the week, I can’t leave early in the morning to run or train.  I think it would be frowned upon, leaving a 6 and 8 year old home alone while I do a 30 mile bike ride.  So . . . hopefully my training buddies like Charlette, John and Meg will be flexible with me.  It’s ironic that I’d have to pay my babysitter more than I’ll be making to watch them while I work out, but I’m going to try to ignore that.  Thankfully their summer camp is a lot less than a private babysitter Poor Thora; she’s going to miss me. 
• Christiansburg:
Trevor, Running Boy and I all drove out to see Dan and Nicole this past weekend.  I was reminded how much I love the mountains when we first arrived, and quickly schooled in how much I hate the mountains when trying to run distances on them.  By some grace I was able to survive a 5 mile run on the hilliest roads I’ve ever done and make it back to the house.  I learned a couple of things about running in Southwestern Virginia.  First, drivers there aren’t really used to runners.  They don’t really understand that when you see a person running down the road toward you, you should move away from the shoulder so they don’t kill themselves jumping into ditches to avoid being creamed by a gas truck.  Second, lots of dogs are unleashed.  That’s great, I’m all for free on the range doggie lives.  However, I wasn’t so fond of being bitten by a small dog named Blackjack who was slobbering and growling like Cujo.  After he chased me down the road, he grabbed ahold of my forearm.  I shook him loose, all the while listening to his owner shout at him and tell me “He’s friendly!  He ain’t gonna bite cha!”  This, after he bit me.  I have a pretty bruise to show for it but no broken skin. I also realized that no matter how much I love dogs, I have it in me to kick one hard if one ever comes after me again.  I also learned that running in the mountains is so beautiful, it almost makes up for the searing pain in my lungs and a pair of legs that wanted to quit 3/4 of a mile into it.  We spent Saturday tubing on the New River.  Nicole filled up a cooler with beer and beer and beer.  And some water and soda.  We stuck it in a beer tube and hung onto each other.  Dan spent a large portion of his float staring intensely at the clouds and running complex calculations in his head to determine whether we were, or were not, going to be struck dead by lightning.  Trevor got hit on by a cutie in a bikini, but I don’t think he was overly interested in sealing the deal.  Parts of the river were deep enough for swimming, so we all took turned flipping out of the tubes and getting wet.  I even practiced some open water swimming, but that lasted less than 5 minutes as I was still wiped out from the early morning run.  Running Boy and I were obnoxious and rented a double tube (think two donuts fused together).  We spent most of the afternoon alternately laughing hysterically or zoning out under a beautiful sky and clear river.  Both extremes were awesome.  Nicole and Dan made us a feast Saturday night and an amazing brunch on Sunday.  Every time I’m with them, I realize how much I miss them and I curse Dan for getting his damn degree finished up so far away from Richmond.  I got some alone time with Nicole and Dan both; each conversation reminded me how much I miss talking to them and how amazing they both are.  I’ve never met two people more cut out for each other.  Dan gave Running Boy “four thumbs up” (hmmmm), and Nicole said, “I’d be friends with him even if you weren’t,” so I guess that’s a good sign.  Really, Running Boy is hard not to like.  I like him, too. 
• Dating:
Speaking of Running Boy, things have been a little stressful lately but mostly due to outside forces (or as Philip would say, a ripple in the Force).  His divorce is looming closer but I’ve never experienced, this up close and personal, two people who cannot agree on just about anything.  In many ways, I think his ex disagrees just to mess with him, but maybe she truly does feel that strongly about every little detail.  Each time I think things are calming down, something else kicks the hornet’s nest and the emotional roller coaster decides to take another swing around the park.  My ex has a girlfriend too.  According to my girls, she is beautiful (but so am I, says Lily quickly), friendly, kind, nice, and indulgent.  When I picked them up today, both were wearing adorable bikinis that she had bought for them.  Dammit, she has good taste as well.  Lily then told me how the girlfriend had helped them make breakfast in bed for him on Father’s Day.  It’s all so domestic and cozy.  I’m genuinely happy (or I try to be) that they have such a nice person in their lives, and I’ve even gone so far as to send my ex notes telling him to thank her for me for the nice things she does.  But it also irritates me because she is so much easier for my kids to deal with than my situation.  She doesn’t have kids, so all of her attention can be focused on mine, and they love it.  Running Boy has kids, and when the 6 of us are together, it’s usually chaotic and noisy and no one person gets any kind of special attention.  While that can be a lot of fun (think Brady Bunch but with better hair), my kids don’t have the same relationship with Running Boy that they do with Amazingly Awesome Girlfriend.  In the car today, driving with Lily, I was murmurring “That’s great, ” and “I’m so glad you had fun,” and “What a pretty bathing suit she picked out for you”.  I thought I was doing a good job until Lily asked me what was wrong.  I quickly kicked myself in the butt and said, “Nothing!  I just hope one day you’ll feel as close to (Running Boy) as you do to (Amazingly Awesome Girlfriend).”  She hesitated and said, “I love (Running Boy) too, Mommy.  It’s just easier for me to be happy if Daddy marries (Amazingly Awesome Girlfriend) because she doesn’t have any kids.”  In her mind it makes perfect sense.  In my mind, I just think, why can’t this be easier?  The Boy and I vacillate between acting as if this is all so very casual and making plans for when we are 89 years old together.  Sometimes we forget to be casual and have conversations about merging families.  Other times we make callous comments about the next relationship or great love of our lives.  Sometimes I personally get so overwhelmed with all of the details and parenting styles and financial issues that I just want to join a convent and give up real relationships.  We both struggle with the balance between serious and still fun.  He’s still married, which is technically kind of a drag.  I’m legal now and I am over all of the drama and emotional debt that comes from divorcing, especially when kids are involved.  I’m selfish and I don’t want to deal with it; on the other hand, I’m incredibly loyal and I want to help him as much as I can.  After years of marriage, I’m less tolerant of anything that annoys me.  I have found that I don’t want to deal with a lot of things.  If I sense selfishness, annoyed is not even close to the right adjective for how I feel.  If I feel used, or put upon, I’m easily made irate.  I never used to be this quick to be annoyed, but I think it’s a temporary thing and I will slowly stop having knee-jerk reactions to things that have been issues in the past.  Thankfully, Running Boy has a completely different temperament than the ex and I am mostly dealing with baggage from the recent past - the idiots I dated after the end of my marriage and beginning of my relationship with Running Boy.  Sometimes I feel sorry for him because I’m still unraveling the ball of damage and bad decisions I made after leaving my marriage.  Other times I want to shake him, make him deal with his own crap.  Usually I just sit on my hands and wait until he can be clear of this cloud, because no matter what, until you are divorced you are still in a relationship with someone else.  We are both equally tired of this third person in our relationship.  I wait, sometimes more patiently than others, for her to exit stage left and for me to embrace the idea of putting up with this person’s interactions with what will soon be her ex-husband. 
• Training:
I’m still training for Pink Power Sprint Triathlon in August.  I do it right before leaving for my big exciting summer vacation - a week plus in Traverse City without kids or significant other.  I’m visiting a few friends and borrowing Philip’s car in exchange for buying him beer.  I can’t wait to be back there on the beaches and on road trips and camping.  I’m sad my vacation plans with the Boyfriend had a major fail (complex calendar scheduling malfunction - not unusual for us, unfortunately).  However, I haven’t had a vacation like this in I can’t even tell you how long.  It will be good for me to get away and rest for a bit, even if I am processing orders like a fiend during one of the busiest weeks of my business.  Half Marathon training team starts up August 6 and I will probably do that as well.  I’m struggling mightily with my weight and fitness level; committing to a training team has been helpful in the past.  I’m running a race series in July in my old neighborhood, of all places.  I hate the run and the course, and I hate the heat of July, so it’s almost like my own personal hell doing the runs.  I do it because I hated it so much last year, I figure I have to hate it less this year.  It makes no sense, but I’m going with it.  Maybe I’ll even blog more often this summer.