Pancakes Taste Like Poverty: And Other Post-Divorce Revelations (12 page)

As for work and income, I've taken some odd
independent jobs to make ends meet while I look for something more
full-time. Also, with it being summer vacation, I need flexibility
since the cost of childcare is astronomical. My ex still isn’t
paying child support.

How can that be!? You ask…

Here’s what the uninitiated need to know
about how child support works. The amount of child support awarded is
based on income. Since my ex’s business is mostly in cash,
there is little income to report. I have no idea how much money he
makes but I know it is next to nothing. Nothing from nothing is
nothing.

Because of this, he is not in danger of losing
his license or anything because he is paying what he can…nothing!

He
has
sent me money since we moved here.
I think $200 in the last three months which is more than I got in the
previous six.

I am homeschooling and the home school community
I am involved with is boss. All the families are great, the kids have
made a bunch of friends. I can’t tell you how many teachers I
have run into who have advised me to continue to home school, which
is troubling to say the least. It’s not for everybody, of
course, but it works well for us.

I taught my 6 year old to read in a week or two.
My oldest’s personality has exploded, given the room to develop
her sense of self on her own terms. I mean, she had a panic attack in
Chuck E Cheese. Now she can talk to people of all ages - something I
thought she would never be able to do. Ever.

When we pulled out a sheet and a globe and I
explained gravity and the fabric of space she said I explained in 10
minutes what she could never understand in years of traditional
schooling. The individualized attention is awesome. The activities
and field trips are specific to what we are learning; what their
passions are. They interact with kids of all ages instead of being
boxed in with
only
other kids their own age. It’s really
been great for us.

I am not so rabid for homeschooling that I would
never let them go back to traditional school if they asked. I ask
them every now and then how they feel about it and they have no
desire to right now. Things will probably change when they are a
little older and I am prepared for that. If we keep up the pace we
have been keeping, though, I don’t think traditional school
will be academically satisfying but we’ll see. For me, home
education is less of a movement or protest than simply an
option
.
I don’t know why it’s so mind-boggling for people to
imagine a world where we have options on how to educate our children,
rather than some district lines and generations worth of poor schools
in poor areas.

Of course, well-meaning and skeptical relatives
try to “catch” me at failing at homeschooling by grilling
my kids about their favorite thing they learned. I don’t think
my 6 year old is going to say “I learned how to read.” So
when someone says in a smarmy tone “So, what have you learned
while homeschooling?’ and she says “lots of different
stuff” and they look at me like “mmhmm, as I suspected,
no better than regular school” I just roll my eyes. The proof
is in the pudding. The statistics about socialization and academics
are both in homeschooling’s corner. I am not concerned.

The only negative opinions I have gotten are from
childless people with no background other than the extremist
homeschoolers on reality television and a few educators who think I
am somehow flipping them off by opting out. When I eat chocolate ice
cream I’m not turning my nose up at vanilla, you know? It’s
no different with homeschooling, in my opinion. I know a bunch of
amazing teachers and there are some great schools in every town.

As far as
the kids' adjustment to moving, t
hey are calmer and
happier. We are all getting to know each other. Jaya and I are so
close now. I think about how tense and unavailable I was to all my
kids and now I feel like I have room to love on them. Kids learn
quickly and have adapted to the new affectionate, happy mom. I think
they like me.

I also noticed my kids have never, ever seen me
pretty. I am still working on that one. That requires disposable
income. But really, when I met the ex I was working at a “modeling
agency” -quotations necessary- wearing heels and makeup every
day to work. When I was pregnant I wore a lot of dresses. I was
pretty at my wedding. But I’ve mostly been either depressed or
trying really hard to go unnoticed during their awareness years, and
they’ve gotten so used to seeing me in pajamas that they
chastise me for even
owning
high heels like I’ve gone
mad. Anyway, basic self-care is a habit I have to re-learn. The ex
never had a problem with the fact that I did not get one professional
haircut in the 11 years we were together, but
he
went on five
yoga retreats. We just never had money for me and always had money
for him. And being a stay at home mom I just didn't speak up because
I didn't feel I had the “right” to the money. Drama.

The kids do really, really miss their dad every
now and then. When he calls to talk to them, which is almost never,
one usually ends up in tears. We had some serious issues since he did
not call Jordis on her 6th birthday, nor did he send a gift or a
card. After receiving angry texts from both of my parents he
eventually called about a week later. His excuse was the typical tale
:

I didn’t know what to say
.
I
feel like such a shitty dad
.
I think about you guys every
day.

One of the hardest things about being divorced is
that kids idolize their parents no matter how shitty they are.

It
can feel a little alien being so involved in the home school
community. Single-parent homeschoolers just don't really happen. So
while the home school friends are great, I sort of needed a community
who
got
it.

So I
made one.
Upon moving home and reconnecting with old classmates
and former coworkers, I was glad/disheartened to find so many of them
in the same situation as myself. I decided we should form a group and
meet once a month to cook a big meal together, let the kids play, and
hopefully address each other's single-parent needs.

There's
a mom of two I met in a “Crunchy Moms” group on Facebook.
She's hyper-intellectual and her vocabulary is so big I often have to
look up words after speaking to her. Then there is the mom of two I
met at a family yoga event. I hinted at being a single mom and she
approached me, noting how well-adjusted my kids are. We decided to
meet a few days later and spent several hours on my bed
commiserating, becoming instant friends. There is my former coworker
who has one son. She works full-time to support her him and her
extended family. One single mom of three was abandoned by her husband
who went “on vacation,” leaving her alone for over a
year, only to come back with a girlfriend and ask for a divorce. My
best friend from kindergarten is still in the process of getting
divorced and raising her son alone. I remember seeing pictures of her
magazine-glossy wedding on Facebook years ago and now it's over. And
lastly there is a custodial single father who I was friends with in
high school. He's a real-life Mr. Mom raising his sons alone,
coaching the soccer team, organizing the carpools. And of course we
include CBL, the Crazy Blonde Lady, our champion and knowledge
bank.
Once a month we collect at someone's home, either mine or
Mr. Mom's, and share food and stories of the struggle. Someone will
pull out a notepad and say “what do you need?” and maybe
someone will say “well, my kid has grown out of their shoes”
or “the pantry is looking thin” or “I'm on the hunt
for a toddler bed” and if the need can't be resolved within the
group we get on our phones and reach out to our friends. Usually, the
need is met within 24 hours.
Since my schedule is the most
flexible, I am the go-to emergency childcare person. If money is
tight or if a little one has the sniffles and can't go to daycare,
they are welcome at my home. Payment can be anything: a loaf of
bread, some bars of soap, some garbage bags. I don't keep a log
because I know my needs will be met when and if I am in peril.
When
my water was going to be turned off, another mama whose son I'd
watched a few times paid it for me. When I was worried about
groceries, my kindergarten friend, who is also an avid couponer,
deposited a variety of stockpiled frozen meals into my freezer.
It's the best thing that's happened to me as an adult next to
the birth of my children.

When I
step outside myself and see how easily and swiftly a community can be
built when someone just says “Hey, this is hard isn't it? How
about we team up?” I am consumed with wonder, shock, pride and
some survivor's guilt.

I
feel like single parenting is easy now because having the community
makes
it easy. It makes me hurt for the single parents who don't have it.
or don't know how to get it, or are too scared or prideful to ask for
help. I hope I can find a way to extend it and include more people.
It'd be even cooler if it became a “thing.”
Like...
If
I could find a way to create some sort of center or intentional
community of single parents that runs on a barter system.
Come
take a parenting class or volunteer in the daycare center and get to
“shop” in our store full of donated clothes, toys,
etc.
That'd be amazing.

Queen

I
was treated to "bweffist" in bed today. Jordis made me
cereal with no milk and a mug of water. I live the life of a
queen.
The time has
come – September 2012

Fair warning: this is
a post about sex. Prudish friends and readers, proceed with caution.

Okay, seriously, I thought I was hormone-driven
in high school. That didn't come anywhere
near
the cross-eyed,
panting, blindingly scorching level of undersexed-ness I am
experiencing now, two or so years into being single. But
single-momming is so strange that sex, an act that used to be so easy
and effortless, is now really terrifying and complex.

Why doesn't anyone warn us?

My single-parent co-op is comprised of women (and
one man) of varying ages at different levels of single parenthood and
we almost all agree on one thing:

As long as we have children to raise, we have
no
desire to ever share our homes with another man ever, ever,
ever
.

But we are humans. Humans have needs. One of
those needs includes sex...but much more than that...

Oh, it's so complicated I feel like I'm typing
and not saying anything. Lemmie try again...um...

The men I encounter seem to be in one of three
camps.

1) They are married men who want to have sex with
me, and are trying to convince me and their wives that we have
threesomes.

No thanks, I've already been involved one
complicated marriage and one is more than enough.

2) They are single men who think single moms just
want detached sex and send me text photos of their penises.

No thanks, I've already been in one detached,
I'm-just-having-sex-with-you-because-you're-here relationship. See
again: Marriage.

3) There are single men who assume all single
moms are looking to replace the male figure in their child's life, so
they keep a half-petrified look in their eye the way introverts
nearly poo their pants when the crappy magician starts scanning the
crowd for a volunteer to be sawed in half.

Divorce rates for 2
^nd
and 3
^rd
marriages are abysmal. I need
another husband like I need a kick in the shin.

So what DO we want?

I will try to explain.

I don't think there is a demographic less
admired, desired or sought after than single moms. It certainly feels
that way, at least. It feels like we are at the bottom of the heap.
We are not available because we don't have sitters. We cancel dates
because our kids throw up. Our tits are saggy because we breastfed
thinking "no big deal, my husband supports me and loves me for
me" never thinking that one day our saggy old tits will be up
against those childless-woman tits that we envy.

We have scars and stretch marks. We clearly spent
several months or years or, in my case, a decade in loveless
marriages. No one was wooing us. We weren't worth the effort to our
spouses. Some of us were treated like we were invisible, like slaves.
Some of our spouses were cheating and drinking and drugging and
making it
clear
that the threat of jail, or death, or genital
warts was better than being at home with us.

So we left those relationships and now we are
slaves. We have children with bottomless needs and jobs and bills.
And we just want someone to notice us. And then screw us silly. And
then get out of the way.

Single moms need wooing, and coaxing, and
courting. We, more than ever, need tenderness and effort and finesse
and confidence and prowess. And then we need a good, solid fuck.

I mean, seriously, we talk about this constantly.

We need to feel desirable again. We need someone
to think we are beautiful and attractive and funny and sexy and smart
because right now we live lives of thankless servitude. All anyone
thinks of us now is "pick me up" or "I'm hungry"
or "snuggle me." It's exhausting.

If host clubs were legal in the States, I'd be a
regular patron. I would
absolutely
pay to be flirted with,
doted on, flattered and sent on my way. It's 90% of what I need. The
other 10% is not being satisfied through battery-powered means.