2000 Light Years

Today was supposed to be the day my life changed forever. I made plans to meet up with the woman my wife approved of me seeing on the side, my novel. Three weeks ago, just after Nanowrimo ended, I completed the ending to the book I’ve been writing, rewriting, and editing since February. You can find parts of it, on this blog, under the page heading “Crazy Robot Stories”. There’s about thirty thousand words there for you to peruse. I hit the 50 thousand word requirement to “win” Nanowrimo, about a week early, then over the following two weeks wrote another 33 thousand words and produced a manuscript. My friends, fellow writers, told me to put it away for a while, and start anew after Christmas. So I did.

Today’s the day after Santy Claus. I had planned to break open files and start nipping and tucking Caleb, Breann, and the evil Ava. Then life happened. Again. My wife had to work. My mother in law is ill. That left me working from home and hanging with my middle child, 8 year old “Bug”. Bug is more of a boy than actual boys here age. By noon, when we met her mom for lunch and to buy a discount Christmas tree (our poor skinny meth addict looking one is being kicked out of the house tomorrow), Bug and I had a nerf gun battle, run errands, and watched at the first three episodes of the new show Austin and Ally.

I’m looking at my mistress, now. She’s better looking than I thought, three weeks ago. Her beginning is tight and her ending is delightfully complex. I’m staring at characters that interest more than most real people I’ve ever encountered. Yet, the amount of editing is staggering. I need time with my other woman.

A little while I go I took Bug to my favorite used record store. I found some old Green Day, then two minutes later, Bug announces “i’ve got to go to the bathroom and there’s one in this dumb place.” So much for musical inspiration for writing today.

The frontline women in my life are prioritied. My wife gets off from work in 30 minutes. My 7 year old daughter gets back home from her other family in less than an hour. Bug just bounded downstairs begging me to inspect her room. She organized her room to accomodate a new desk and other stuff. That means I have to end this post.

The important parts of this check-in is; I’ve finished the first draft of my novel and you aren’t being bored with an end of the year look back or a meaningless list of something. I can’t wait to show you what I’ve accomplished.

Now, Bug and I have to get in some one-on-one nerf basketball.

Today’s song is from Green Day with they were awesome snot-nosed punks from Berkeley, California. From 1992 loud  Kerplunk record, here’s 2000 Light Years Away. It’s a metaphor for my girlfriend, the book.

Merry Christmas, I Don’t Wanna Fight

I live with a monster. It stays in my bedroom. It’s not locked up.  It slumbers, in a small drawer next to my wife’s underwear. The irony is lost on no one in my house, trust me. It isn’t a gun. It certainly isn’t drugs or alcohol. The monster next to my wife’s undies….is my divorce papers.

Six years ago, I decided to change my life. I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t the father to my then 2 year old daughter that I wanted to be. I got a lawyer, i went through “the process”. It should be called a bloodletting because I felt like Keith Richards after he gets his oil changed when it was over. By the conclusion, you’re left with debt and a set of papers, 12 pages in length, that states when and how you see your child, how much money you owe someone you don’t like, and when you celebrate Christmas.

I’ve written about this many times, but in case you’re new, here’s the lineup card. I was married, then I wasn’t. That relationship produced a girl, now 8 years old, legally named Lyla, but called on this blog, Bug. She and I did the single parent thing for a couple of years until we met Deana aka the Bobina age 34, Taylor aka Tay, ag 15, and Carly aka, the Goose, age 7. We got married in November 2008 after only knowing each other for six months. One of the things we didn’t talk a lot about before joining superforces was the holidays.

Christmas is happy time, right? A tree, sweets, presents, cheer, a chubby guy breaking into your house and making everyone squeal with delight. Well, in a blended family, Christmas is

ohcrapwehavelikesevendifferentfamiliestomakehappyhowcanwemakeauntsoandsosandgettomyfolksand  yourfolksonchristmaseveandwedonthavethischildbecausetheyrewiththeirotherfamilyandtheywontgettoseetheresantyclausstuffuntilthedayafterand thenourotehrtwokidswillbeg onethissucksiwishiweredrunk

Let me explain further.

Lawyers go to school for many years, They’re really smart and they dress nice. They can’t tell the future. None of them are Nostradamus or Neo. When my document was drawn up, the Bobina, Tay, the Goose, and Christmas hell weren’t on the menu. As a result, how to navigate the stormy waters of keeping everyone happy during cheery season is lost, like socks in the dryer.

My holiday schedule with my 8 year old Bug is as follows: Even numbered years, I have her from the day she gets out of school for winter break until 2pm Christmas Day, Odd numbered years I get her 2pm Christmas Day and keep her until she returns to school in January. For the public school educated readers ( i was too), 2011 is an odd numbered year, so Bug has been away from us for a week. We won’t see her until Christmas Day after her sisters have left for their other families. That means my children are passing ships in the night (i stole that from my friend, Marian) and won’t be reunited until December 28th. You bet your Ryan Seacrested asses we’re staying up past midnight on New Years Eve.

What’s missing from all of this, is the added stress we go through from our extended family members. They have their set traditions. They want to eat at a certain time. They want to exchange gifts at their treasured moments. This past Sunday we had to miss one of our favorite family get togethers because our 7-year-old, The Goose, wasn’t due back from her other family until early in the evening. It’s a 2 hour car ride for her and asking her to go over to someone else’s house, about 20 minutes away,  and stay up past her bedtime, just wasn’t fair. I know that part of our family was disappointed.

The five of us; me, Bug, Bobina, Tay and the Goose have made a committment to each other. We put each other number one. If this means we miss other people’s celebrations, so be it. We have our own, to make work and remember forever.

Today’s song is from The Ramones. It should be every family’s theme, not stupid Jingle Bells. Here’s Merry Christmas, I don’t wanna fight.

Hello, Goodbye

Last Christmas in our house:

The door bell rang and sadness filled the room. I watched my wife’s deep blue eyes lose their sparkle; partly to the flu, and because our three daughters were leaving us on Christmas Day. 

A swirling dervish of excitement bounded up the stairs, throwing her little six-year-old voice backward.

“I need my new big pillow and my new Bigfoot toy. Daddy, get my boots!”

I took her order and found them behind the couch, then opened the door. Someone my youngest also called daddy stood expressionless as flakes danced around the porch. I said hello, turned around, and my small blond plopped down on the floor with her socked feet sticking straight up.. I slid on her fur lined Christmas gifts. She got up to give kisses to her sick mother then leaned into me for small hug and walked away with the other man.

“It’s snowing, honey. We don’t even get to throw snowballs with them.”

I walked upstairs and saw our oldest daughter packing her overnight bag with one hand and texting with the other.

“He called and said he’s 10 minutes away.”

I extended my arms and she sighed. She finished her message and leaned into me. It was good enough. Her warmth was a present. Her left hand gently touched my shoulder as she pushed away to finish packing. I walked six steps across the hall and peeked into the younger girls’ room. My middle child, only 7, but desperately trying to be like her oldest sister, kept her eyes on the television  as she spoke out out of the side of her mouth.

“When do we leave for my mom’s?”

I suppressed heartache and replied.

“Two hours.”

I walked to the window and pulled the curtain to the right.

A much harder snow began to fall.

***blogger’s note***

This is my 300 word response to Write on Edge’s holiday prompt:

 

This week we asked you to use the holiday season to inspire you to write a piece beginning with “The doorbell rang” and ending with “snow began to fall.”

We can’t wait to see where you took this prompt. Link up, but only if you’ve done the prompt, and let us see who was on the other side of the door.

Red Writing Hood – The Doorbell Rang

We are a blended family. Every Christmas Day is like this, as our 3 daughters leave us at certain times during the day. This year, our middle child, now 8, will come to us at 2pm, but not see her two sister until 2 days after Christmas. This was the scene in our home last year as my wife was sick, it snowed, and the girls left us to be with their other families. Christmas, thus, is both a very happy and sad time for us.

Today’s song is what plays in my head while this scene plays out every year. Here’s my interpretation of The Beatles, Hello, Goodbye.