The Writing Mamas Daily Blog

Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.

If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.

And for that, you are a goddess.

Sunday, April 05, 2009

 

A New Yet Old Kind of Divorce


I’ve been separated from my ex-husband for five years this month, and have been divorced for almost four years now. Though it’s gotten easier, I’ve adjusted for the most part -- there is still a part of me that lives in inquiry and wonders; was it the right thing to do?

Though I didn’t have a choice -- my husband had an affair while on a three-week business trip to India and left me upon his return when our second son was three-months old -- I still wonder.

We had a good marriage, though people may question my judgment after hearing how it ended. We had a deep love and connection, we liked the same things, we understood each other, we had two children. I suppose there was always this fissure within him, unseen and beneath the surface, which unexpectedly shifted from increased pressure and caused an earthquake in our lives. 

Who really knows?

We still see each other almost everyday to exchange the kids. We talk on the phone daily. We parent, plan and schedule together. He knows me better than most people. When I first saw the HBO series “Big Love,” about a polygamous family in Utah, I thought – 'this is not so unlike divorced families today,' as outrageous as that sounds.

Divorced couples with families no longer sleep together (usually), but they often continue to share an intimate life. Sometimes I wonder if we’re so close to this relatively new familial configuration that we don’t see how closely related to more primitive family systems it may be.

As far-out as that sounds, my divorce still makes me wonder. What if we were still married? What if we (he) had honored our commitment? Would our children be better off? Would we have found our way back to each other? Is there a better way?

The die is cast, and I am finally allowing myself to sink into acceptance. 

Still, I wonder.

By Lisa Nave

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Tuesday, December 30, 2008

 

Preschool Acceptance As Challenging as College Admissions


Today I got the call I have been waiting for; waiting with both excitement and dread. It was the school admissions director. As she introduced herself, I was once again a teenager, speaking to the admissions director at Smith College as she congratulated me on my acceptance.

However, this was preschool, not college, and my son had not gotten in. Despite the fact that I had dutifully listed him on the waiting list a few months after his birth, along with all of the other Marin mothers, it appeared that some moms had gotten on the list while still pregnant.

As ridiculous as it seems, I could not help but feel that I had failed somehow.

When I first told my own mother that I was looking at preschools, she sensibly asked, “Why don’t you just send him to the one near your house, like I did with you?”

Oh, if only it were that easy. It is hard now to think about how much time and energy I spent picking out just the right place for my son, as though I really were choosing a four-year “home away from home” instead of a place he would spend just a few days per week.

Would he be happy and safe? Would he enjoy the reading nook and the art corner? I finally discovered the perfect place, just two blocks from my house. My neighborhood preschool.

The rejection felt like a wound.

I chose this small city to raise my family because it reminded me of the friendly little town in upstate New York where I grew up. However, sometimes it seems to be just a picturesque facade of that little town and its simple way of life.

Here, I must rush to the phone with positive pregnancy test in hand and pay a $50 application fee (same as college) and beg preschools to let my sweet-tempered little boy play in their mock kitchens and join their circle time.

Leaving your child for the first time is hard enough without suffering such indignities.

However, I am certain that my son will have many advantages and opportunities here as well... if he can ever get off the waiting lists.

By Rebecca Jackson

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