March 22, 2006 Today I worked out at the YMCA. And I fell in the toilet. I was close to stuck, worried about how I would get out if I couldn’t do it myself. Would they call the janitor or would some strange woman come into the stall, grab my arms and pull me toward her until the “POP” sound ended, freeing me? Would I have a ring around my butt? Would I bruise? Thousands of thoughts rushed through my head. I was scared to make a sound for fear I’d ask for help and someone would actually give it to me. How embarrassing. Instead I wiggled, squirmed, pushed and achieved the “POP” all by myself. Now you’d think I would know how not to get stuck in a toilet. After all, I’m 39 years old. I’ve sat on a toilet for 36 of those years. Actually, less than that. I went to a lot of bars in my twenties and I shop at Wal-Mart at least twice a week so I’d say at least three of those years were spent squatting. At least. Maybe even more the more I think about it. Either way, I should not have gotten stuck in that damn toilet. After my initial embarrassment and humiliation, (even though no one was around) I actually laughed out loud. How silly! I got stuck in a toilet! I certainly don’t consider myself a classy person, but being stuck in a toilet really adds a certain ‘something’ to my flare, don’t you think? Thinking of my butt stuck in that toilet still makes me laugh. I’m glad for it. Lately, I’ve needed the laughter. It’s been a tough few weeks. Months. Years? On a happier note, my husband has informed me we’re going on vacation on April 28th. To a tropical locale, where the sun never stops shining, drinks are free and the food has absolutely no fat whatsoever. Okay, that part’s not true, but it makes it all the more exciting. The last time my husband and I went on a vacation alone (as in no kids, no family, no friends) was 1999. We hadn’t even gone on a honeymoon. I was pregnant when we got married so we decided to wait. I’m considering this our long awaited honeymoon and I’m beyond excited. I’m one of those women who actually enjoy my husband; enjoys spending time with him; talking to him and maybe doing a few other things with him too. He made the decision for this vacation of his own accord, which makes it all the more wonderful to me. I asked him why and his reply was two-fold; he loves me and I have been working hard as a mother so I deserve it. Is he just not the most wonderful man around? Needless to say, I’ve been looking at my wardrobe and not one piece of it says “tropical” to me. Neither does the size of my butt. So I’ve joined “NutriSystem” (after all, any diet that lets me have chocolate everyday oughta be wonderful, right?). My food comes next week and I’ve kicked up my weights and cardio so I expect to get back to 118 by the time we head out. Eight pounds to go and life will be good. I just don’t want to go and worry about how I look. I want to feel fit and sexy. Not unlike any other day in my life, actually! Now let’s take a turn into the world of ex-wives…the weekend before last was her designated weekend. However she must have had other more important plans because we did not even receive a phone call. The next Thursday (this past one) she did call and asked one of my daughters if she wanted to come there that weekend. First of all, she should not be asking them because frankly, they don’t make the decision. We may have plans (which we did) and they don’t know. I explained to my daughter that the decision was not her responsibility and thus I would talk with her mother about it. She mentioned that her mother would be calling me. The next night at 7:30 PM she called again and spoke to the same daughter. She asked her if she wanted to come out. My daughter said she couldn’t. I was furious. She should not be asking her daughter. So of course I forced my husband to call her and tell her that the last weekend was her weekend, not this one and they were not going to visit. She said she didn’t know because we always change the plans. She’s right. We do. Mostly because she can’t get her shit together and since we want the girls to spend time with her, we give in to her schedule. Not anymore though. I’m not playing that game. I’m making the rules and she’ll play my game from now on. So my husband told her she wouldn’t have them that weekend. I promptly sent her an email with the dates she’ll have the girls through the summer. No response of course, but I’m sure she read it. The next morning she called again, wanting to see the girls. Apparently her mother was out of town and God knows where her boyfriend was. Maybe they broke up again or something. Who knows? Either way, she was lonely and wanted the girls to keep her company. Too bad. We didn’t give in and I feel really good about that. She chose to ignore her scheduled weekend and now she won’t see them until the second weekend of April. We’ve got stuff going on. Sorry about that, but that’s the way life goes, huh? I know it took a lot for my husband to stand firm, whether he’ll admit it or not. But I told him I’m done letting her dictate our lives and if he didn’t want to have the conversation, I most certainly would but it wouldn’t be pretty. He obliged me. Thankfully! I think he knew it was in his best interest! A few nights ago my oldest daughter went to bed and started crying. I went in to find out why…PMS perhaps? And she said to me words that made me cry,…”I’m sorry I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you. I’m happy you’re my mother.” Wow. She’s 14. Where the hell did that come from? She also said sometimes she remembers how bad it was when her mother still lived with them (though she used her mother’s name, not ‘mom’). She said she knows that when I came around Daddy got to work less and spend more time with them and they got to do more, like play softball, do karate, etc. She thinks it’s because of me. Yes, to some degree it is but it’s not that her Daddy didn’t want the best for them. He just couldn’t offer much of it in that situation. She understood that. I was surprised at her maturity and ability to see the truth. I knew it would happen eventually but as much as I’d waited and wanted to hear it, it really just made me sad. It made me sad for her that she has to remember the bad times and sad for her that she knows her biological mother really isn’t that great of a person. I’ve always wanted the recognition but I honestly didn’t expect the sadness along with it. She and I are very close and I was able to tell her exactly that. She told me not to be sad, that she would be okay. Wow. She continues to amaze me. Everyday. I’m a proud mama, that’s for sure! Even though the past few weeks have been tough; my mother’s miserable and taking it out on all of us; my husband’s traveling far too much and someone is sick everyday; I’m taking the Katrina route and looking at the good things that happen each day instead of dwelling on the tough parts. Okay, so maybe I still dwell, but I’m doing it with a sense of humor more than anything else. Let’s hope there’s no more toilet sticking in my future!
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