Goodbye Old Friend

So, I'm contemplating selling "Big Boy", my Harley.

I know that might come as a shock to some of you who have been reading me for any period of time.

Dallas and I hardly rode this summer. I'm sure it could be attributed to the oppressive heat but at the end of the day, my beloved motorcycle sat, collecting dust, for most of this past year. I feel crappy about that. I love that bike. It should be ridden.

My Harley represents so much more to me than just another toy to fool with on the weekends. I remember back three years ago about this time. Dallas and I were clearly smitten with each other but the relationship was littered with obstacles on both sides that needed resolution before we were able to move forward. One Sunday in late August, we went for a ride on his bike and somehow, I knew our time together was nearing an end. We stopped for lunch in Eureka Springs and the conversation drifted to our relationship.

"You're everything I asked the universe to bring me," he said. While I believed him and knew that he was being nakedly honest, I was also keenly aware that there was a "but" to that statement, even if he didn't. We finished our lunch and on the way home, from the back of his bike, I realized just how much I would miss the unique freedom that a motorcycle provided.

Two days later, Dallas and I split up.

A week later, I had signed up for a course to learn how to ride.

A month later, I passed the course and bought my first Harley.

To me, Big Boy represented fierce independence. It was on this motorcycle with senses heightened, sun on my face, wind whistling in my ears, that I experienced peace for the first time in a decade. On a winding road with nothing but the rumble of the pipes for company, I felt the kind of joy that erupts unexpectedly; the kind where you suck in the air, smile wide and thank God you're alive. My Harley was my salvation.

So, why sell something that is so meaningful to me? Well, things have changed. I'm now married to the man who inspired me to learn how to ride and the truth is, we just don't get out there all that often anymore. Our priorities have shifted. I don't think we feel the need to escape our lives in quite the way we used to. Things have settled. These days, our leisure time tends to be filled with the pursuit of physical activity and outings with the kids.

This month, we are committed to ride with friends to Hot Springs on an overnight road trip. Dallas and I will savour every second of this getaway with the knowledge that it will likely be our last as Harley owners, at least for now.

For me, saying goodbye to Big Boy is as bittersweet as relinquishing my home to tenants. Both events turn that last page on a remarkable chapter of my life and now, as a woman who is whole and who has nothing left to prove, I am eager to see what the future will bring.

Lies I Tell Myself

I'm happy about the fact that the first place the weight has come off is my boobs.

I consider exercise a privilege, not a chore.

I'd still work if I won the lotto.

Botox is all the cosmetic enhancement I'm prepared to try.

It is better to live in a world where even insane people like Glenn Beck and Ann Coulter have a voice than to be censored in any way.

It's really okay that I don't reside near the ocean or the mountains. There's beauty in every place.

I welcome the opportunities that our new move will bring.

I'm ready to lease my house to renters. I'm sure they'll treat it like their own home.

Everyone deserves a second chance.

The housing market will bounce back in a few years. So will my retirement account.

The piece of glass that is lodged in my knee will come out without medical intervention.

I have faith in the Democratic party.

One day, my ex husband will wake up and do right by his children.

I can adapt to a life without bread.

I am strong.

I am organized.

I can handle just about any curve ball life throws my way.

I am not scared.

Cloudy With a Chance of Redemption

Dilemma: House needed to be rented.

We had a sign up on the front lawn, Twittered and used Craigslist to advertise to the world that we wished to lease our property. We had inquiries but only one couple that we would even consider as prospective tenants. They couldn't afford it, though, which was a shame considering the chemistry seemed to be there.

I lectured myself not to worry because we had plenty of time to find appropriate tenants before we'd be in a financial bind. Still, there was that seed of anxiety that germinated in my subconscious. So, I did what my husband had encouraged me to do. I called the people that we really connected with and offered to lower the monthly rent to within their budget. They immediately accepted and I believe they will treat our house like a home.

I found peace for the first time in many, many days.

Dilemma: Son downloads $900 app from iTunes.

When he text me with this little nugget of information, my composure evaporated in the time it took for the charge to show up on my credit card. Huge parenting fail. And then I got a grip. I decided that I would make him sell his video game stuff to help defray the charges and then he would have to work off the rest through babysitting and allowance deferral. He accepted the responsibility without question. Parenting win. Then, this arrived in my email:

Dear Beth,

Greetings from iTunes Store Customer Support! My name is Mr.R and I will assist you today.

I understand that the purchase of "iraPro" application by your son was unintentional. I'm very sorry to hear that, but do not worry; I would certainly help you with this issue.

Beth, I have reversed the charges for this application to your account. In three to five business days, a credit of "$899.99" should be posted to the credit card that appears on the receipt for that purchase.

Please note that this is a one-time exception, as the iTunes Store Terms and Conditions state that all sales are final.

If you still have any further issues, please write back to this email.

Have a nice day!

Sincerely,

Mr.R
iTunes Store Customer Support

Clouds parted, sun shone...

My son when shown the email, slumped over with relief. I was pretty darn happy myself.

Dilemma: My Ex is a Neanderthal

I don't really want to be bashing the father of my children (again) because, well...he's the father of my children and I already did that here. Nothing much has evolved since then. He's still a knuckle-dragging, responsibility-shirking, emotional cripple of a man. This past weekend was his weekend with the kids and to accommodate his work schedule, they are picked up Saturday night between 6pm and whenever he bloody well feels and returned home Sunday around 5:30pm. Sunday morning, I received a frantic call from my children, from my ex's place of employment. They were hysterical and begged me to come pick them up. I didn't ask many questions. I've learned not to. I found my car keys and left the house.

I arrived at his workplace and they were waiting out front. As we were leaving, the ex thrust his head into my driver's window and bellowed emotionally corrosive nonsense at the children about being "traitors" and "useless" while the two of them cowered in fear. For the first time, I saw genuine loathing in my son's face and I understood that Dylan had reached his capacity for forgiveness. Olivia was in the backseat sobbing hard enough to bring on dry retches.

It was magnificently awful.

When we got home, Olivia went from room to room looking for Dallas. When I explained that he was out doing a few errands, she fell apart. I understood then, that for Olivia, Dallas had been her "real" Daddy for a long time. That night, when I put her to bed, she grabbed my face between her hands and vehemently said, "I never want to go back there again", meaning my ex's house. There wasn't a lick of manipulation in the gesture. She was desperate to get her point across.

It wasn't the first time that I'd received an S.O.S. from my kids and found them emotionally battered, but I resolved that this time, it would be the last. The decision to protect my children, even from their own father, has been remarkably liberating. I just regret how long it has taken me to recognize that my children needed me to intervene.

The weekend was one of the most challenging that I've had to endure in ages but late last night, as I took a mental inventory of events, I was grateful that everything turned out okay. The house got leased, the $900 mistake was rectified and I finally decided to stand up to a bully.

I guess the silver linings are always there; it's just a matter of finding them.

Why I Should Be Medicated

1. My son, horsing around with his friends on the bus, unwittingly downloaded an application onto his iPhone that hit my credit card with $900. Oh yes, I did say NINE HUNDRED FREAKING DOLLARS! . The bright side of this is that:
a)I was several miles away in my office upon hearing the news.
b)The geographical distance between us quite possibly saved his life.
c)I am not currently premenstrual.
d)It's not the first time some wiseass kid has downloaded something using his mother's iTunes account. Apple seems to know how to handle the situation although I won't rest easy until I see the charges reversed.

2. Our house hasn't rented yet, which shouldn't get my feathers in a ruffle because we've only had it advertised for a few days, right? Yes, except I got one, measly inquiry by email. One. And after providing an address and sending pictures, I never heard back from the person, which scares the bejeezus out of me. Man, they didn't even want to look at it, which brings out every, single, insecure, I-know-my-house-has-flaws fiber in my body. We've already put a deposit down on a house in the new city and since neither of us was born a Kennedy, things could get ugly really quickly if we don't put a family in our house tout de suite.

3. My job life is either crazed or not. There is nothing in between. I'm head down, up to my eyeballs in it for weeks or struggling to find enough to occupy my time. When it's nutty, I find myself begging for some relief. Trouble is, when the reprieve finally does come, I'm all out of sorts. In the face of less work, I become disorganized and scattered and develop the attention span of a gnat. Now, is a lull time for me. I should be celebrating. Instead, I'm furiously making list after list, overturning old rocks looking for new opportunities because the truth is, I'm not right in the head when I'm not fully occupied.

4. We're moving.

5. My husband lives someplace else the majority of the week and I have forgotten how to prepare a meal. We may all starve.

Does this qualify as a rant? Whine?

Ah, who cares? It's Friday and I was the lowest on the scale this morning that I've been since my wedding so LIFE IS GOOD.

Whine-O

My husband has been gone from home for the last two days and frankly, I'm coming apart at the seams.

Nobody brings me coffee in bed anymore.

Nobody is there to portion out my vitamins or help with lunch packing.

The laundry is piling up and the dust on the furniture is thick enough to inscribe one's name.

I have no freaking idea how to operate the fancy schmancy BBQ that sits on my back porch so last night, I baked the chicken like I used to do in the old, single days and when it came time to serve the kids, they eyeballed their plates with suspicion like I might be trying to feed them monkey or something. Olivia actually asked me what kind of meat it was and then asked if we could Skype Dallas, all in the same sentence. Coincidence? I think not. She was lucky to have been fed at all considering I was completely disorganized and wandered around my kitchen opening cupboards looking for provisions. I hadn't had to do a lick of grocery shopping or cook a meal IN WEEKS and it was like I had bumped my head and forgotten how to do ANYTHING WITHOUT DALLAS.

I am doing my best Beth-of-Ark impression these days complete with the discussion that I had with my children where,(voice choked with emotion), I explained that Mum needed them to be extra helpful now that Dallas was gone. My daughter is easily manipulated that way so she responded by holding my hand, kissing me and solemnly promising to do whatever it took to make Mum's life easier. Sweet girl. My son just looked at me as if to say, GET A GRIP. Dallas would be home Friday night.

I am so lame.

I need to get my single parent groove back.

Except I don't really want to.

I'd rather whine.

It goes better with the packing.