Thoughts from a lazy Sunday...

Today is Monday, so I should write about what I'm reading. Which I will. But yesterday was Sunday. And somewhat normally on Sundays (for at least a month) I have blogged about my divorce.

Yesterday was an odd day for me. Normally Sundays are kind of hectic, which is not at all what I want them to be. But because we try to attend the early service, we get up early, go to church, eat lunch, and just go, go, go all day long.

But yesterday, I decided that we were going to have a lazy Sunday. We slept in, read, the girls played on the Xbox, which they rarely do since their father left, we had dinner with my parents. It was nice. It was unhurried. I intend to do it again.

I watched the Catholic Mass on television. I enjoyed it. I have been thinking a lot about the Pope this week, because he has been on the news, I suppose. Once upon a time, I wanted to be Catholic very badly. I love the ritual of Catholicism. I love the rosary, I love the pageantry, I love how sure and steady Catholicism seems. But I am not truly Catholic.

However, I do admire the pope, particularly this pope, who seems so grounded in genuine love. I don't totally agree with everything he says, but I think that he is learned and kind and someone that anyone could learn from.

And this week he talked about being divorced.

Being divorced is not something that I intended. I realize that no one likely intends it. But sometimes people say things off handed, not meaning anything by it, and it stings like a dagger because I take it personally. I did not want to get divorced. It was thrust upon me, and it took me such a long time to come to terms with it. But I have.

Laura Bush, who I simply adore, said last week that the best thing a person can do for their child is to love their father. "Marry someone you like," or something of that nature. Upon hearing that, I want to scream, I did! I loved him, and liked him, and in the end, it didn't matter. And now I worry constantly that I have likely screwed my children up, and am leading them down a road of promiscuity and drug use. Seriously, when you go to the divorced parents class, they tell you all of these statistics about how much more likely your kids are to go a dangerous route. It's lovely.

But, after digesting it for a while, I came up with my answer. And maybe it's just my answer, but it's my truth. Nick and I are doing the absolute best that we can. The girls are absolutely the most important thing in the world to me. Maybe it's crazy, but remaining friends with Nick is crucial to me in raising my girls. They love their dad. As they should. They didn't ask for any of this either, and the last thing that they need is for their life to hold any more turmoil.

We are still a family. We are a new and different family. It's awkward sometimes, but Jenifer and I are friends. Her kids love my kids. She loves my kids. I can see myself, my future self, thanking both Jenifer and Nick for giving me this life that I have. It was born of a lot of pain, yes, but it has led to a place of healing. A place where my kids get to have all of these people who love them. And for us, that is the best we can do.

Anyway, what I'm reading:

Heartburn by Nora Ephron

Roswell Fan Fiction (that deserves its own blog post)

I'm still reading Founding Mothers and Leaves of Grass.

The girls and I are still reading Ribsy. We read a lot more slowly than we used to. But trust me, we are having a lot more fun.