As many of my regular readers know..I went through a bit of a break-up about three months ago. This split was a brutal one…so bad that I temporarily entertained the thought of giving up all ladyscaping and buying some of those nylon hiking sandals. I have since come to realize that there is no amount of alcohol in the world that will make me enjoy the taste of seafood…or want to go hiking in nature…and my pits really itch when I don’t shave.  

The point is that things have been kind of rough around here..and during some of my weakest moments, I found myself looking back at my twelve years of prison marriage with bizarre warm, furry feelings. I tried to recall what compelled me to walk away from my rich, cute husband and cushy lifestyle. The past was all a bit fuzzy to me.  

And then, something happened.

Let me go back a little and lay the foundation.

Three months ago, my ex-husband ended his engagement to a woman he had been dating. As much as I can admit the decision was necessary, it was upsetting for my kids and the situation was made even worse by the fact that my live-in boyfriend walked out on the very same weekend. When it rains, it pours or something about the shit hitting the proverbial fan.

The worst part was the woman had a baby. And the kids basically thought the baby was their sister, even though this was physically impossible. However, I didn’t even bother to attempt to explain the miracle of one night stands while a couple is taking a break or vasectomies.

So a lot was lost, but the boys and I hunkered down and waited it out…

Time and short term memory worked its magic, and one happy day, we were all okay again.

And my ex and I were getting along famously. We were taking the kids out to dinner together and hanging out at the bowling alley. We were the fricken miracle divorced family. The action figures scheduled to arrive at a store near you.

On a side note: Do any of you single parents ever feel like your ex gets to be the super cool two-weekends-a-month party clown, and you end up being the wash behind the ears, do your homework,  and we are late for soccer bitch? And when your kids come back with assault rifles and cotton candy lips and they haven’t slept for three days, you basically have to spend the next week undoing bad behavior and nursing your children back to health.

Well, the bitch is me in that scenerio, which I guess makes my ex the clown. 

Single super daddy..this can apply to your ex, too. 

Still, my ex-husband and I enjoyed a few weeks of this fuzzy bunny love fest….What’s more, I actually thought my ex was on the same page as me, and he was taking time from his latest dating disaster to heal or maybe just to sell the house that he bought for her. Now, I can always tell when my ex has a new girlfriend. Mainly because he stops answering my phone calls and is constantly and frantically returning texts whenever he is at my house with the kids.

So when he received that thirteenth call on his cell phone and I saw the image of a dark-haired, buxom thirty-something divorcee posed in an eighties prom dress, I knew he had started a new relationship.

“Really?” I asked him…as we both gazed at the mess in the red satin monstrosity. The odd bunching up the front of her dress seemed to suggest that she was sewn into it or maybe borrowed it from another woman who had emergency open heart surgery.

“My new girlfriend  isn’t trashy,” he replied. “She has her own home day care.”

“You don’t, say?” I answered, trying my best to feign surprise.  I was thinking that it was either home day care or she worked as a cashier at a liquor store. Of course, her career choice also meant she had at least two young kids of her own.

And I was not even that surprised when my ex suddenly announced he was moving to a completely new town/state. And can you guess who lives in this town???

But what really put my pink panties in a bunch was the fact that he promised to my face that he would go slow and not introduce the kids to a new woman and then, conveniently forgot. 

Last night, my ex took all four kids and this woman to Plaster Fun Time and Uno’s for dinner last night. And was two hours late for drop-off. 

Contrary to the belief that my anger is really all about my deep hatred for painted pottery, I am pissed he went behind my back.

“This woman is different”…he promises me and my kids. 

You have to admire that kind of optimism…

When I asked him how he knew this, my ex proudly replied it was because this women didn’t let him kiss her until the fifth date.

I almost chocked…In my opinion, what this means is that the girl has gotten AROUND, feels badly about it, and is changing her tune to try and snare a decent man. I should know..I used the same trick on my ex-husband twenty years ago. 

Thank goodness this poor woman has gotten over her shyness. Two months later, she doesn’t seem to have a problem with my ex spending the night while her children are home.  

All of my insane bitchiness aside…Last night, I had a rare moment of complete clarity…a re-education as one might call it.

It happened when the two of us were squared off  down in the drippy, dank basement trying to avoid the kids hearing us, and he was screaming at me in a forced hiss. Despite what I or the school counselor says, my ex is convinced that  he knows was best for these kids and that none of his failed relationships has had a negative effect on them. Sigh….

And how easily couples fall back into the same bad habits. Sure enough, my ex rushed towards me, backing me against the wall,  and holding his face two inches from mine. “Why don’t you hit me, if you don’t like it,” he sneered in a mocking tone. His face distorted into a snide Joker grimace.

It might have been just the glint of a swinging light bulb in his thousand dollar veneers, but that was the moment that I had a flash.

Donk!!!.. Oh Yeah…This is what my marriage was like….  How could I possibly have forgotten all this fun???

Suddenly, the past three years of single parent struggles made perfect sense.

I can’t tell you who is wrong and who is right. The problem could very well be me. Maybe I am afraid to trust again and I am clearly a bit of a control freak…or maybe just a freak.

But, I am one hundred and ten percent sure that the past should remain firmly in the past…And at least for me..the best path is the rocky one least travelled.

And it’s kind of nice to know that my insane guilt and nostalgia are only playing tricks on me ..my ex-husband really IS sort of an arse!!!