Ghosts From The Past

You'll never guess who has walked back into my life recently.

Really, take a stab. You'll never get it right.


Guess yet???







Ready???









My ex.



Which one? That's the funny part.


ALL of them.


The Rebound. The Ex-Husband. And The One.


Told you this was a good story.


I'm not really sure how it all happened, except that within the last few days, I have spoken repeatedly to the 3 men that, collectively, I haven't talked to more than twice in over 3 years.

At this point, they each deserve their own (and each very different) blog post. But let's suffice to say it's been eye-opening, and crazy, and intense, and good and bad.

And I'm not sure about anything yet, but there's a chance that the book hasn't completely closed with one of them.

Which one?

Guess you'll have to stay tuned...

I Knew It Was Coming...

About, oh, 6 months or so ago, I started getting a feeling...

I don't know exactly how to explain it - discomfort, longing, boredom... just that feeling that it was time for something different.

Now, this feeling isn't new to me at all. And it's the main reason that I've moved no less than 5 times in the last 4 years.

I just get to a point where it's time to move on. To try something new. To do something different. To find a new adventure.

So... I'm now writing from Houston, Texas. Where I recently moved, with my 2 boys, seriously naughty puppy, and more stuff than would fit in the biggest U-Haul you can rent.

I start my new job with one of the biggest and best firms in the industry in 2 weeks.

I'm in a place with no family, few friends, and a terrible sense of direction.

But I'm content. Maybe even happy.

Because this is my new adventure. And it's mine to experience. And I'm excited.

And maybe this will be the adventure that quenches the feeling I always seem to get. Maybe this time, I'll stick around and really commit to something.

At least for a little while...

I'm Starting To Agree With Everyone Who Thinks I'm Crazy...

I've had this conversation a million times. It almost always comes after the "What do you do?" (I'm an Accountant) and "Where are you from?" (Colorado). Further inquiry confirms that I am, indeed, a single mom and no, my ex-husband is not involved, in fact he's about as helpful as a pile of dirt. From there, it's ALWAYS "So do you have family close to help you?".

Nope. My closest family lives 1200 miles away.

Gasp.

The reactions range from shock to pity to that look of "what is wrong with you (or your family) that you would choose to live so far from any form of help?!"

Normally I wave it off with some reply about how I enjoy my independence and my boys and I are a great team that get along just fine.

Normally.

This last week, however, I've been questioning my own sanity. People are right - what AM I doing hundreds of miles from my mom, sisters, aunts, cousins, anyone related to me?

In the past few days, I have graduated with a Master's Degree, found (and signed a lease on) a house in Houston, where I will be moving in just a couple of days, packed my house, adopted a very non-housebroken puppy, dealt with my 7 year olds out of control tantrums (I so thought we were through this phase - nope), and somehow managed to keep a roof over my boys' heads, food in their stomachs, and good dreams in their heads as they drift off to sleep. Oh, and I'm doing all this with a 104 fever and seriously the worst case of strep ever.

I conceed. I'm crazy. And I want my mom!

It's times like this when I wonder what in the world I'm doing. Why did I just sign on for at least another 2 years here in Texas with my new job? Why don't I want to be back in Colorado, where I have help, and babysitters, and family? Why do I insist on consistently going at it alone? How bad could it possibly be to have someone to come pick up the boys and take care of them so I can lay in bed for a few hours trying to get better? How awful could it be to have someone bring me soup and my favorite Jell-O? Why don't I want grandparents close to take the kiddos on Friday night? What is wrong with me?!?

I'm still working on the answer to this, for sure. But I think it has something to do with me being able to live my life. To not feel stiffled and stuck and have to bend to someone else's expectations.

I do that a lot when I'm around my family. And it's not good - for me or them.

I guess Texas is my way to live my life the way I want to. And if that means having to help with homework and clean up puppy messes with a 104 degree fever every once in a while, then so be it.

This is the life I chose. And while it is a little crazy, it works for my boys and me.

And isn't that what really matters, anyway?