2012, the golden bowling trophy of big changes

Each year since my divorce has seen major changes. And each year, I've thought, Whew! Don't think I could top this one!

But I think maybe 2012 holds the prize. The golden bowling trophy of big changes. The fact that I sit at my desk in my new home, looking down at my wedding ring and out at a rainy California day is testament to this...

Here are this year's highlights:

In my writing:

*I took third in a major fiction contest,scoring the $200 prize (the most I've ever been paid for a published piece...thus far)

*I was accepted to the prestigious Pacific University MFA program and then decided against it as I just couldn't justify the financial and time commitment. Maybe one day I'll try again, but for now have decided to write as passionately as though I were in the program. I'm still at peace with the decision.

*I was a featured storyteller at an event called Story, Story Night where I learned I could tell my story without reading it off a page.

*Published four of my own articles as literary director of Fusion magazine and things in other publications including one short story, two poems, a restaurant review, a look at a major local building project, and acted as editor and layout designer for the real estate newspaper associated with my job. It was a landmark year for putting my name out there.

*Started on my novel and became engulfed by it...hoping to return to it soon.

*Interviewed 48 amazing writers and others influencing the literary world on my radio show, The Writers' Block--including award-winning David Abrams, Alan Heathcock, J. Reuben Appelman, Carla Neggers, Pauls Toutonghi, Stephanie Reents and others. Very aware of the priceless amount I learned about writing, editing, and publishing during my stint as host.

*Made the dedication page of Mr. Perfect's book. I've always wanted to be on one of those :).

 

In my family life:

*Z, at 15, is as tall as me now with feet several sizes bigger. He's into parkour and rugby, which means I have to close my eyes a lot and remember how important it is to let kids be fearless within reason. He can carry in all the groceries by himself and I'm pretty sure he could, if needed, sling me over his shoulder and carry me out of a canyon with my leg broken. That's a nice feeling, though I can't say I don't miss my baby.
I broke down in tears when the boys all arrived safely here on Christmas day, knowing my Z had shepherded his younger brothers safely through two airports. He has always done hard things without complaint and I am ever so proud of him.

*E, now 13, made me mother to two teenagers this year. He is a fiercely loyal friend, still so aware--as he has been since his youth--of just what is right and what is wrong, and constantly stands up for the underdog and the weird. His grades have slipped this year, largely due to his homeschooling background where he preferred self-guided learning instead of a bunch of busy work with due dates, and yet all the reports I've received from his teachers say he is one of their favorite students. I have no doubt of his intelligence and trust he will find his way with a little motivation and organization, and I often remind myself of the number of  highly successful people who weren't great students. Plus, he's an uber-talented musician and can quickly calm my worst of days with his music.

*L, 8 years old, is still the most shy of all my boys, though once he warms up--his smile lights up a room and his laugh could warm the coldest heart. He is top of his class in all subjects and loves being on time, crossing off lists, and planning projects. He has taken more of an interest in money and savings this year and wouldn't be surprised if he asked to start investing in stocks soon. He's also my snuggliest boy and I look forward to his daily hugs.

*J turned 6 this year and doesn't seem to mind being the youngest and battling for his spot to be noticed or get seconds of dessert. He has a natural love for performing and a knack for humor--both purposeful and not. He has taken off as a reader this year and his teacher says he's a natural classroom leader, often winning the class award for helpfulness and character. I do worry he'll grow bored (like E) in classes if they don't keep up with his pace of learning, but I'll keep finding ways to push him here at home. He is truly a delight to me and all those he comes in contact with.

Like most moms, I alternate between worrying my children will grow up distant as a result of all the bickering and slugging they do, but then am calmed by those not-so-uncommon moments where I find them all huddled together on the couch looking at a book, or laughing at a movie, or working at a game, and I know everything is going to be alright. They've all taken warmly to our new family situation and Mr. Perfect, as I suspected, takes his role as a step-dad very seriously and prays daily for guidance. The boys love their new sisters and often declare our house "boring" without them here. I look keenly forward to our lifetime of adventures together as a blended family.

In my social life:

*The first few months of 2012 still found me nursing a seriously broken heart, struggling to get over my break up with Dr. Yummy, and also trying to date someone whose company I enjoyed but who just wasn't right for me. It all felt forced and led to a lot of unnecessary emotional turmoil. Plus, there was this deep lingering crush I was still harboring for Mr. Perfect that seemed to interfere with my ability to really "re-attach" myself to anyone. Though I might agree to a dinner or movie with another man, it was nearly always Mr. Perfect I would call to talk to at the end of the day.

*June was a big month. I threw an unforgettable backyard birthday party to celebrate turning 37. I had several bands, a slushee machine, a BBQ truck, and confetti canons. And nearly all of it was free, favors from friends. I didn't know it would be the last of my backyard birthday bashes, but it was a great send off, and a great reminder of the blessings of loving and being loved.

I also finally decided to fly out to California--not just because it had become a yearly tradition since my divorce, but to visit Mr. Perfect for the first time in a year, hoping for a chance with him. We all know how that one ended :)

June also brought about my reunion with Dr. Yummy who asked, rather out of the blue, if he could take me to lunch. I hadn't seen or talked to him since October of 2011, and while something in my heart was stirred at seeing him and being with him again, it didn't compare to what I was now feeling for Mr. Perfect, and I had one of those blessed moments where I understood why I had to go through what I did to get to where I was now.

*Within a five month period, I dated Mr. Perfect, got engaged, and got married at a drive-thru window in Las Vegas. Now THAT was some major life changing! :)

*Socially speaking, I am currently adrift in unknown territory. I feel blessed to live with my best friend and, now, to have my dear boys with me too. I have wonderful friends here in California but it will take time to cement the relationships like I had in Boise--to find a group of writers I respect and challenge me creatively and intellectually, to find those kindred spirits who get my quirky personality. But I'm excited for the adventure and still feel I am just where I'm supposed to be.

In my spiritual life:

*My lessons continue--mostly in faith and trust in the Lord's timing. I have learned, time and again, that things generally work out and my worry over them, beyond that which keeps me motivated in moving forward toward a solution, does no one any good. My motto quickly became: Can you do anything about the problem? If yes, good--don't worry. If no--good, then why worry?
Letting go and letting God help has been a beautiful, developing relationship I hope I continue to nurture.

*I feel incredibly blessed to have helped and been helped this year. I get teary just thinking of all the service, time, and monetary help given myself and my family. I am a blessed, blessed woman.
*I also learned more about forgiveness this year--with Brad losing his job and being unable to pay child support for several months, putting the children and I in dire straits financially. I could have devoted a lot of energy to being angry at and verbally bashing him, but I didn't. Though I wouldn't let him forget his responsibilities, it felt better just to give him the benefit of the doubt, understand his perspective, and try to find solutions on my own. Yesterday would have been our 18th wedding anniversary. I still feel sad to have lost the ideal situation for our family, and I do still miss the man he was--but I wouldn't change things either. I am content. Brave. Joyful. Optimistic. More sure than ever that everything works out in the end, with God's help--and if it hasn't worked out...it's not the end.

Wishing you all a blessed and prosperous 2013. Thank you for your continued love and support. Thank you for your kind words and more. Thank you for continuing on this adventure with me. May peace be in and around you.

With love,
~Jennifer P.

i'll be home for christmas

Tonight I attended a church Christmas program. During one part, they dimmed the lights and--over the sounds of a couple singing "I'll be Home for Christmas"-- showed a slide show of local church members who are serving missions or in the military. At the very end, they paused on a picture: It was a scene of the Huntington Beach pier at night--all misty with ocean and lit up with oversized snowflake lights hung on the lamp posts. It took a minute for it to resonate with me--they had paused on that picture because, for nearly everyone there, that was "home." That was the place those who were away in Peru and Iraq and Tennessee would be thinking of and missing this Christmas.

And it was now my home, too.

While the familiar brown-grey, snow-dusted foothills of Boise, the dry cold in the air, and the outline of the brick-sidewalked downtown twinkling in white lights will always be in my heart, I really am excited to be in a new home. Excited for the opportunities here to make new friends, new memories. Have new adventures. Bloom where I'm planted.  And while it is hard to separate the word "home" from a location, a scenery, a  familiar four-walled abode--I have learned (yet again) that Home really is less about a place and more about those you are with. Home is familiarity, tradition, routine--yes, but it is also love, acceptance, trust, laughter. Portable things.

My boysquad flies in on Christmas morning to join Mr. Perfect and I in the place that will soon be their new home as well. With the money spent on the move, the wedding, and tweaking the house to be able to fit all of us--there won't be anything but filled stockings this year. Yet I still can't imagine having any better Christmas than this one will be. After a month of being away from them, I will have the children I adore, the man I adore, and his girls I adore all together. In my arms. Piled in a big, warm pile on my lap. Yeah--even Mr. Perfect will probably hop in on that :)

So while I am away from the only home I've ever known, and still adjusting to this new home, I truly can say I will be home for Christmas.

 You can plan on me.

May you all sleep in heavenly peace.

xoxo,
~Jennifer P.

moosh

I knew I'd be in for an adjustment period leaving the only city I've ever really lived in for the majority of my life, a place I'd worked myself up to being a medium-sized fish in a small pond... but Mr. Perfect and a new life in an area I've felt drawn to for several years seemed worth it. And it was. And it is. 

And I was also spot on about the adjustment period.

Our two weeks and one day of marriage have included about 30 hours of travel time across four states (the majority of it driving); packing and loading a moving truck; several visits to the doctor; one trip to family court; and lots and lots and lots of mooshing together.

Mr. Perfect rents a quirky but lovable home--about 2,000 sq ft--though it feels smaller thanks to its two rooms with ceilings so sloped they're almost unusable, and a strange configuration of doors, closets, and light switches forcing awkward furniture layouts. Also--the fact that there will soon be ten of us living here along with ten people's amounts of stuff: Me coming with four boys, Mr. Perfect and his two girls, his mom (Mother Perfect), and his handicapped sister (Sister Perfect).

We all knew it could be a challenge to live together, but we all genuinely enjoy each others company and knew there could also be some totally awesome things about the arrangement. And still feel that way--we just have to figure out how to arrange the arrangement first.

Mother Perfect raised ten children and has amassed a collection of formal, Victorian-era furniture over the years. Even though I sold at least 1/3 of everything I owned before I came here, and the boys surrendered a lot of their favorite things, too, including their pet--I still brought all the best of the best of what I had left, a lot of it demonstrative of my love of big, bold pieces. Mr. Perfect has enough art and collectibles from his years in design direction, clothing, and television to fill a museum of radness. Anyway--it's a lot of stuff we all have. A lot of good stuff. And we've learned some difficult lessons about stuff this week.

Like how hard it is to detach the memory or person from the stuff associated with it/them.

Like how hard it can be to just let things go.

Currently, we are living with four homes worth of stuff squished into every available square foot of this one home. And we know some of it has to go.  A lot of it. And preferably before my boys move in on Christmas (which was the point of me being away from them for an entire month--getting a home established). But what goes? Who budges? Is the big set of bookshelves custom made for me which housed all my beloved first-edition, signed books at my old house more important than the big china hutch of Mother Perfect that houses all the plates and crystal she has collected?

Is the couch my mother insisted I buy with the money I would inherit at her death more important than the table inherited from Mother Perfect's grandpa?

Will there be enough room on the walls for pictures of my family too?

Will my boys feel they have their own space sleeping four to a room?

There just isn't room for every thing but there HAS to be room for every one.  Running a family of six children has to stay our focus.

Yeah...

It really has been a happy transition thus far what with the man I love, warm days and palm trees wrapped in Christmas lights,  the smell of the ocean forever in the air and so much laughter-- but I am itching to get settled. To create an environment we can all function and thrive in. To figure out school and work arrangements.To find time to do things like read and write again. To find a new place in a community still quite foreign to me.

I finally broke down on Friday, exhausted physically and emotionally, and told poor Mr. Perfect I wanted to go home. Not that I wanted to leave him--I just wanted to go somewhere I didn't feel like such a stranger in a strange land. Somewhere my children were with us. How scared I was there was no such place for me to go. Sure--there is an empty, dark, cold house 700 miles away back in Boise I still own, but I can't go back there and there is no place yet where I feel comfortable, settled and organized here. That...that place has yet to be created and it's difficult knowing I don't hold the reigns in doing it as I have in creating the previous seven homes I've lived in. This is a shared home and a shared life and must be treated as such.

In the midst of all this, I had a little miracle happen that helped my perspective:

 After six weeks of a raging ear infection, nearly constant migraine-level pain, and almost complete deafness in my right ear, I finally got into an ear/nose/throat specialist. My biggest fear was that my ear drum had been so ravaged by the infection there may not be enough of my hearing left to save. But the doctor took a small vacuum and in the course of five minutes, cleared out all the gunk that had accumulated around my ear drum and...voila! I could hear again.

I actually cried. I listened to Mr. Perfect's voice, which I hadn't heard clearly since before Halloween, I listened to Christmas music, I listened to the sound of a crowded room where it didn't sound like all the voices were one giant echoing cacophony crashing about in my head-- and I wept tears of joy. 

How quickly things can change. When we feel that there is no hope, that we've done all we can do, that things will never get better despite our continued best efforts--they do. And they can. Miraculously.

So, right now, I feel I'm up against a wall (of teetering furniture and boxes..) and I really don't know how to resolve it. But I know I can. And that solution won't involve me getting things just like I want, or Mother Perfect getting them just how she wants them, or things being ideal for any of us--but I *know* we can find a happy compromise. A solution found when all things seemed hopeless... one that can bring as much joy as a sudden ability to hear clearly again. And we'll all be happy we decided to stick this mooshing out :)