Physical Touch - read the book / web carefully - people assume, mistakenly, that PT=sex. WAW likes hand-holding, backrubs (non-sensual, please), foot rubs, etc. She likes to sit with something touching - leg, arm, what-have-you. As sex (with me) became more and more distasteful, she stopped that kindof touching - announced it in fact - because "you'll take it the wrong way" (i.e., I would find it arousing).
As far as my bitch-slapping you goes, WAW ain't no aliveandkicking - 'nuff said.
And I absolutely DO NOT think she is sh*tty mother; I think she's as much mother as she can be but also that she'll continually improve because (a) she doesn't have me to fall back on as much and (b) she hates to lose (and as you can see is not a gracious loser).
I'm trying to impart something but it just isn't working. Tell me if you want me to just back off and let you show us how it is done...seriously, or maybe my input just doesn't fit...I wont take it personally.
In the mean time, one more shot.
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Physical Touch - read the book / web carefully - people assume, mistakenly, that PT=sex. WAW likes hand-holding, backrubs (non-sensual, please), foot rubs, etc. She likes to sit with something touching - leg, arm, what-have-you. As sex (with me) became more and more distasteful, she stopped that kindof touching - announced it in fact - because "you'll take it the wrong way" (i.e., I would find it arousing).
I was pretty much there in my M. I'm a pretty physical person in general but it isn't my LL. Any chance this is off? Do you care anymore? I am not saying I know, it is of course a projection...dare I say, I relate to this crazy woman in some way...
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And I absolutely DO NOT think she is sh*tty mother; I think she's as much mother as she can be but also that she'll continually improve because (a) she doesn't have me to fall back on as much and (b) she hates to lose (and as you can see is not a gracious loser).
Neither a or b make her a good mom. You explicitly expressed your very warranted doubts about her parenting abilities here. We're going for brutal honesty here, right? It is not her forte, you know it, she knows it (obviously she loathes herself for it)...
What a fabulous development it will be for her to be in therapy...a ray of hope.
Oh, and be careful not to confuse bitch-slap with spank, could lead to assult charges.
Pointless question but it's really bugging me. Why are the children called "Themselves"?
"My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand." Thich Nhat Hanh
I think it's an Irish idiom-type thing--"it's himself" (affectionate and slightly exaggerated importance over a simple "him"). Transposed over to more than one person = "themselves." There's your linguistics lesson for today.
M60 H52 D20 M14 yrs OW-old gf from 1986 bomb-5/18/08 H filed for D-9/10/08 D final 4/24/09 xH remarried (not OW) 2012
@Orangedog - too many nights behind the tap of the Shorenbegorrah Inn - legacy of a misspent youth, and too many conversations with legions of junior varsity Frank McCourts - props to hoosiermama.
@alive - I'm in Crappy Terminal at Overstressed Airport, having just spent nearly 2 hours stuck in an alert from my buddy Zig on Madhouse Freeway, en route to the Great White North, so I have to forgo linguistic style for raw efficiency in order to get to your many good and important points.
You shouldn't back off, friend, but I'm just not registering Your Point.
WAW's Love Language - it is within the realm of possibility that it has changed / she has evolved. But for years / decade, WOA didn't resonate, at least not openly. They'd be brushed off with a "You're sweet." That being said, she was all about WOA from friends - but her definition of friendship is a relationship of pure affirmation and support; you never challenge your friends, their beliefs, etc.
Motherhood - it is the case that mothering has not been her forte so far, but as FFF pointed out the other day, that will likely change now that she's forced by circumstances to get it sorted out, and she may well prove to be the better parent as the two, Themselves, go into adolescence. WAW describes herself as not having had a childhood in the sense of always wanting to be older and being treated as a little adult. She just doesn't like the world of children - whereas I don't think there's much better than running around in the backyard, going "booga-booga-booga!" while Themselves squeal and run in the sprinkler.
Okay, Annoying Airline is calling my flight. Off we go into the Wild Blue Yonder. See youse guys onna flip-side over by dere.
too many conversations with legions of junior varsity Frank McCourts
'Tis
M22,H45,W45 S21/18D12 Retain faith that you will prevail in the end, regardless of the difficulties and at the same time confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.
WAW canceled Fabulous MC#2 ("I'm sorry; I just can't; I just can't handle it.") I called her: don't make any precipitous decisions.
"I can't. I'm too sad. I'm too fragile. I can't take it. I know you're angry. I know we agreed."
I'm not angry. But we're not canceling. Just take it one day at a time. See what the day brings. Go from there.
45-minute bus ride to Great Lake City in the Great White North. Talk-talk-talk. She agrees -- or admits defeat -- we'll go one time. And see.
Then 3 piteous e-mails from WAW. Maybe it's the full moon. Her freakout has completely freaked her out. She's gob-smacked that she's still so full of anger and rage -- and sadness.
"I know we talked; I know we agreed; but I just can't."
Now ordinarily I'd say Good Divorce-Busting, here kitty-kitty, WAW's on the ropes now it's time to press my advantage. She's back-pedaling. And various and sundry.
But what did I do? Gol-dayum if I didn't fall right back into the old patterns. Rescue. Total validation. Make it all about her. Make it all better.
It's as if I haven't learned a thing. It's as if I haven't experienced a thing.
But now, in Elegant Old Railroad Hotel, pecking at this keyboard (and feeling mighty peckish -- what is with Canucks -- restaurants close at 9:30? Really?), I hear echoes of Mrs. @Thinker and Mrs. @orangedog.
I'm very, very suspicious.
Now it's true I don't want her to hurt. I want her to model confidence and strength to the kids. I'm not out for revenge or restitution.
Like so many of you, I've crawled out of the abyss. I've had nearly 3 months of being really solid. Mojoriffic. I finally, finally get an equilibrium, get a balance, and with one fell swoop I'm right back to being the man she left.
Only now, maybe, she's not so sure she wants to have left. I've been living La Vida @Gucci, and it's getting under her skin.
Fish-or-cut-bait time. This is when Smiley's Person has to decide -- does he want to see about remarrying this woman or not? Treat her as a prospect, says @Kettricken, that's all you have to do, but give her points on the top for maternity. Fair enough. You're looking for reasons not to do that, says @aliveandkicking. I feel I'm being as objective as I can be, as analytical as I can be.
Honestly -- right now the "nays" are beating the "ayes."
I feel like myself, for the first time since I can remember (and I can remember a long way). I feel strong, motivated, confident. But most of all I feel happy. Genuine happiness. Real happiness, just at the dawning of the day. I'm going out of my way to chat with folks on the playground at school, talk with the jardinero, joke with the neighbors I've almost never seen. I am really, really liking my life, even though my job's in jeopardy.
Yeah, the Florence Nightingales did physical wonders for me. But that's all it was, for the boat-ov-us. Scratching an itch. And I'll tell you, it was good to scratch.
And Full Disclosure -- there's a Someone who could, over time, be Someone More. She's not. But I can imagine that, given the right set of circumstances (not these), there would at least be a reasonable chance of it (but then again, since the last time I dated Ronald Reagan was president, my instincts are pretty rusty in that department!).
She evidences no changes. Her actions, her words, her deeds, her (expressed) attitudes -- all Classic Mrs. SP. Even the way she dismisses my offers to listen, to help, to validate -- all Classic Mrs. SP.
Her thang with Signore didn't work out -- I can't help but be suspicious of the timing. "Snakes in the brain," @Coach would say. But what would @Puppy Dog Tails say? Am I really expected to believe that WAW just happened to come to her senses -- if that's in fact what's happening here because, full disclosure, I'm irritating @Gypsy here by mind-reading like a mo-fo -- at precisely the same time that her escape valve dumped her?
I've come too dam far, achieved too dam much for myself, learned too dam much about myself, to be the Safety Net. I'm sorry, sports fans, but there it is.
None of this is settled. None of it needs decisions tonight as I look out of the window towards now-dark Great Lake. She hasn't responded to my last e-mail, which basically said: "I am ignoring what you wrote last, but I will make you this deal -- YOU go to Fabulous MC#2 for IC. Do that, and I'll get off your back with the 'inappropriate' [that's how she described them in the previous e-mail] offers to listen. Anything short of that, however, and it's no deal."
So I dunno, guys. My head is spinning. I had a vision of our reconciliation, and she put the kybosh on that. Spit in my face. Physically attacked me. Talked smack to anyone who would listen. Told me to "move on" and "get over it" and "catch up" to where she was.
So I did the fire-walk. I jumped into the volcano. And I learned -- not that you could have convinced me of this for all the tea in China back in the days after The Bomb -- that I could make it. That I was o-kizay.
I don't think there's much better than running around in the backyard, going "booga-booga-booga!" while Themselves squeal and run in the sprinkler.
I was blessed with a dad like that. Don't EVER change.
Taken as inspiration. May O'Dog remember what he's good at.
"My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand." Thich Nhat Hanh
The picture comes somewhat more into focus on this Great Lake morning.
The Mouthpiece has moved into action, and I think that's freaking Mrs SP out a bit. She e-mailed to "take responsibility" for the past few days' madness (no apologies, but I'll take what I can get).
Her POV is that there's a "glimmer of hope" that we can get along better and move forward, but she's also not willing to go to Fabulous MC#2 to see what it would take to magnify the glimmer, though no reason for this unwillingness was offered.
She's hinted around obliquely about Miss Someone, but won't ask a direct question, and when I've tried to explain that Miss Someone is a great companion, someone who you can just say, "Hey, get a cup of coffee" or "go to the driving range" to, she insists that Miss S is secretly the Great Love of my life, etc. "Uh-huh. And is that what Signore Schmuckatelli was?" Well no, but that was different.
So for now I'm following the wisdom of the Great Game Theorist in the Sky - deciding to do nothing (for now) is still deciding, choosing to wait for more data - so long as you're tolerant of the discount rate - is still choosing.
Like Woodrow Wilson, my policy is "watchful waiting."
