Posts Tagged ‘divorce’

After being separated for a little more than two years, I received final divorce papers in the mail on Saturday, complete with Judge McN’s signature dated Christmas Eve, 2013.   I have a thing with dates and would have preferred one less easy to remember… less, well, holy.  The joke’s on me, I suppose.  Oh well.  For the judge it’s just a piece of paper he has to sign.

I’m lucky that Andy and I get along and are friends, because it makes everything a whole lot easier.  As if underscoring the unimportance of our official split to him personally, Jonah ran around for a while yelling mamadaddy!  mamadaddy!  That’s right, Boo.  Mama and daddy love you so much, no matter what.

Andy called me earlier today;  school’s closed for MLK Jr. Day and so he’d picked Jonah up for a visit.   He told me Jonah wanted to talk to mama on the phone.  This is kind of a new thing because he was never much interested in the phone.  Even with his new willingness to hold the magic plastic piece while speaking and listening to invisible mama, I have to do most of the work.

Hi Boo!  (silence.)  Are you watching Oompa Oompa yes.  Can you say “I love you mama?” I love you mama.  I love you too Boo, mama loves you so much.  Be good for daddy, okay?  okay Bye bye sweetheart.  bye bye.

It’s the closest thing we get to conversation, but light-years beyond how it was years ago.  It’s part of why I keep this blog — so I can look back and measure progress, both his and my own.  Andy also said Jonah was being exceptionally good today, and I’ll talk to him later to see how long it lasted.

On Saturday I wanted to take a couple new pictures of Boo, but when I ask him to smile, he turns all silly and gives me a hammy, angelic grin:

I changed it a little in my photo editor to make it look even creepier.  :-)

I changed it a little in my photo editor to make it look creepy, for fun

I think it’s much cuter when he doesn’t know you’re taking the photo, like here at his improvised bathtub/swim-up bar:


Most of what happens regularly every weekend happened again.  The endless requests for grandma’s house? and, of course & most especially, car ride?

It’s a 90 minute car ride each way to him, and then I take two car rides with him, Andy drives, my mom stays back at the apartment and either struggles with the Internet (I am trying to be more patient as I teach her the simplest moves of the mouse) or watches QVC or FOX until we return.  Always on our car ride, Jonah wants music and he wants it loud.

We know this not because he tells us turn it up, but because while the music is already playing he will say music on!?  over and over until it is at his desired level, which means that for Andy and I to have a conversation, we have to raise our voices.  We don’t want to hurt Jonah’s hearing of course,  so at about the halfway point we tell him “this is as loud as it goes” as if he understands what we are saying.  Maybe he does, but still he asks for “music on?”

This is what it is now, our strange little family, usually interrupted by Jonah’s dissolving into tears and sometimes an aggression or two.  Practice radical acceptance, they taught me in the hospitalDBT:  Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) combines cognitive and behavioral therapy, incorporating methodologies from various practices including Eastern mindfulness techniques.

It would serve me well to read through the notebook I kept there.  Eight days of wisdom-teaching does not a wise woman make.

But I’m facing forward, moving slow…forging ahead…

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What’s amazing is how long it sometimes takes me to tell a tale of Jonah, or research something about a drug he’s taking, or read his progress report after I’ve opened and discarded the envelope.

There is one such progress report, in fact, sitting on the coffee table in front of me, right now – just an arm’s length & reach away from being read – but I don’t read it.  I don’t want to read it.  I don’t want to read about his goals to “independently identify six sight words,” with staff notes speaking of his wonderful progress to “read 5 sight words with 20% accuracy.”  I don’t want to call his residence at night to ask how he was and what he did that day, and I don’t want to know there’s a class-action lawsuit commercial on TV now against one of his med companies.

I approached a renowned autism doc (his cousin is my mom’s neighbor) about different meds but he wouldn’t touch my question with a 10-foot-pole, answering in his e-mail back to me that he could not comment.  I e-mailed my neighbor Chung Wen’s son, who is a doctor, and more specifically his field of study is pharmacokinetics, (how drugs get in and out or metabolized), and he has offered to help me, so I finally sent him the list of meds.  I wanted to wait until Jonah’s meds stabilized post-eye-op, so it wasn’t until this morning that I sent the e-mail.

If he replies, I guess I won’t want to read his e-mail either.  I want to know there is away out of this for my boy and I have a sinking feeling there isn’t.  I am afraid to mess with his meds.  I guess I’ll have to see if any of the questions I’ve thrown around get answers.

The wonderful thing about everything, however, is how Jonah has been happy lately, a silly boy laughing with his mischievous sense of humor (splashing water out of the tub, running & jumping around and trying to avoid a capture to dry off)…on Saturday I heard my favorite words, “more kiss,” many times.

Of course more kiss! 

When Boo is in a lovey mood it melts my heart.  I love when he’ll pause in all his joyful silliness to lay on the big blue bed with me and have quiet time, lying facing each other and giggling.  This lasts a minute long at best but carries me through many a night.

I took a bunch of pictures on my new LG Spectrum 2 phone (whatever that means) and have yet to figure out how to download things onto my computer.  I hate reading manuals and so my knowledge consists of much trial and error, and a lot of “I’ll figure that out later.”

I don’t understand how I can download an app that turns my phone into a flashlight, for instance, but I haven’t the ambition to wonder why.  Perhaps as you enter middle age (is that where I am at 44?) your mind can’t wrap itself around some of what is coming up behind and all around you, particularly in the realm of technology.  I hear tell they’ve invented an actual invisibility cloak and light saber. The mind reels.

One thing I dislike is waiting to be divorced.  It’s just a slow process.  The mediator wanted to know my new health insurance company, and then they have to mail edited shit to Andy, and then I have to bring it all into the office (I guess by coinflip I am the plaintiff here) and then I hope it’s over soon.  It is much harder emotionally than I thought it would be, even after the years of separation and my relationship with M.

I have to not think too much about how it was when Andy and I first dated, and married, and how it used to be until Jonah-Boo, the “baby-est angel,” was five months old and my best friend Gina suicided, shotgun to the head.

Maybe that was the beginning of the end in a lot of ways.  I don’t know.

I guess I don’t want to know.

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