Category: Doing Divorce

She felt sick to her stomach and ran to the restroom.  She was embarrassed as she bumped past her third grade classmates.  Her cheeks were tear-stained when she made it to the nurse’s office. “I just threw up and I don’t feel good.”  The nurse took her temperature revealing a fever. “Ms. Smith?  This is Nancy, the school nurse.  Rebecca just threw up and is running a fever.  Are you able to come pick her up?” “I am.  But today is her dad’s day.  I can come get her, but you should call him first.” “Mr. Smith?  This is Nancy,

I could see her choking down her hurt.  He was determined not to let her see him wince across the table set for depositions.  I observed a mixture of emotion fill up the space, even when words were silent.  They occasionally glanced at each other when recalling details of their twenty-two year marriage.  They were answering questions in front of each other about the contributions they each made to their marriage, about how their children had been successful or not, and what they each thought would be a fair way to divide their lives. They were afraid to smile at

It started slowly. I started getting sick to my stomach prior to plane trips.  And then I was nauseous on road trips.  The triggers were random and illogical given my lifelong love of travel.  It took me a while to notice and connect the dots given my travel time was no less than months in between trips.  When additional triggers started, I decided I should see a doctor (after my mom told me to). I had good blood pressure, my pulse was also normal, and the blood panel results showed a solid row of normal.  She asked about my lifestyle.

I was hovered over the toilet scrubbing with my magic wand – the toilet brush.  Sophia, then 6, paused at the top of the stairs next to the bathroom door and peered in at me.  Sheer delight spread across her face.  “Mom! Are we playing Cinderella?” she asked with enthusiasm.  I wiped a bit of sweat from my forehead, “What??”  She seemed as confused as I was.  “No, I am not playing Cinderella.  I am cleaning the bathroom.”  “Oh,” she sighed dejectedly and walked away to her room. I sat back on the white tile floor and leaned my back

She shot.  She scored!  And I missed it. Maybe in your household your child scoring a soccer goal is a regular occurrence and accomplishment.  But in our household, for our Sophia, it is nothing short of a minor miracle.  Sophia does not play sports out of athletic drive, skill, or competitiveness.  She plays for the simple enjoyment of being on a team.  She loves the social aspect of sports teams.  She does not love any type of contact with a soccer ball. Suffice it to say, this was an event.  At the time of the goal, I was on the

Joy. Calm.  Beyond.  These words start to fill up my social media feeds at the first of the year when people are apt to choose “one little word” to set a specific intention or provide inspiration for the year ahead.  Some chose companion words to provide subtext for a goal:  grit, glory, gumption.  Over the years, I’ve had some of my words gifted to me in bracelets by friends as a reminder to keep focus. What if this year your one little word is “divorce?”  What if you have been struggling in your marriage for years and this is the

I weigh myself.  Ugh.  Add that to the list of resolutions.  I stare into my messy closet. Ugh.  Add that to the list of resolutions.  I can count the number of vegetables in my house on two fingers.  Ugh.  Add that to the list of resolutions.  And I keep going until my list is in the double digits and my energy is deflated.  I start my new year off eating a donut and putting Christmas décor in my closet to put away later. “A new year.  A new start.  A new you.”  The predictable and tired advertisements come rolling in