Christmas time is here again.....oh shit
Ever since I was a kid, I never liked christmas. I asked my parents for a dog when I was 9, and sure enough, they got me a fake plush toy dog with a little button that mad it go "woof". Little did they know that my pre-pubescent years were spent violating that poor dog, as I discovered self-stimulation. Sounds gross, but turst me, all boys do it.
Then came our Christmas move of 1995 when my parents decided to up and move us within a couple of weeks' time to another house. Moving is a strenuous ordeal, and even moreso when you have parents who are packrats. I kept asking suring the move, "and we need this for what?" as I took an atrocious lamp out of the moving boxes or favors from parties going back to the 70's. It was also the time when I had to emcee my parent's anniversary party. My girlfriend and I had been together for 2 years and this is when I started to see the warning signs that mahybe we just didn't belong together. I worked hard to make sure that everyone at the party were greeted and taken care of, from my lolas to my little cousins, along with my girlfriend. But later, she came up to me bawling that I had purposefully ignored her and didn't attend to her. Between the move and my gf's emotional breakdown, I didn't have a very good christmas.
Fast-forward to this Christmas season...the past three months have been nothing short of hellish. First, my wife and kids move out because we've got mice in the house. Here I was setting out traps to catch these little fuckers, and they got all the way upstairs from the garage. Even with my two dogs, they got up there. Every day was like a safari hunt, looking for their droppings and trying to stomp them out. I finally got sick of fucking around, so I moved all the furniture out and set out nearly 50 traps in the house, with the help of my good buddies (damn, I love that those guys would spend their evenings setting traps with me). Needless to say, there are no more mice in the house.
A week after my wife moves out, she leaves a message telling me that she's leaving me. Holy shit. My jaw dropped, and after the inital shock, I just hid in a hole for nearly a month. Here I was in an empty house, I hadn't seen my kids in days, my wife is divorcing me, and I have no fucking clue what to do next. Evne more painful than the uncertainty of my future was the fact that my wife had given up on me. I truly thought that love was unconditional, but that kind of fairy tale thinking will just get you hosed hard. I sure did.
So now, my wife and I have decided to make sure that the kids are our #1 priority. We forgave each other for all of the things we did during our marriage, and now were truly committed to making our family work. She'll take them for half the week, I'll take them for the other half. I've been slaving away on the house to get it ready to be sold, which unfortunately will not get too much in today's real estate market. And now I'm thinking that love can be unconditional, especially if I find the right person for me. Who knows when this will be, but the future seems hopeful.
Then came our Christmas move of 1995 when my parents decided to up and move us within a couple of weeks' time to another house. Moving is a strenuous ordeal, and even moreso when you have parents who are packrats. I kept asking suring the move, "and we need this for what?" as I took an atrocious lamp out of the moving boxes or favors from parties going back to the 70's. It was also the time when I had to emcee my parent's anniversary party. My girlfriend and I had been together for 2 years and this is when I started to see the warning signs that mahybe we just didn't belong together. I worked hard to make sure that everyone at the party were greeted and taken care of, from my lolas to my little cousins, along with my girlfriend. But later, she came up to me bawling that I had purposefully ignored her and didn't attend to her. Between the move and my gf's emotional breakdown, I didn't have a very good christmas.
Fast-forward to this Christmas season...the past three months have been nothing short of hellish. First, my wife and kids move out because we've got mice in the house. Here I was setting out traps to catch these little fuckers, and they got all the way upstairs from the garage. Even with my two dogs, they got up there. Every day was like a safari hunt, looking for their droppings and trying to stomp them out. I finally got sick of fucking around, so I moved all the furniture out and set out nearly 50 traps in the house, with the help of my good buddies (damn, I love that those guys would spend their evenings setting traps with me). Needless to say, there are no more mice in the house.
A week after my wife moves out, she leaves a message telling me that she's leaving me. Holy shit. My jaw dropped, and after the inital shock, I just hid in a hole for nearly a month. Here I was in an empty house, I hadn't seen my kids in days, my wife is divorcing me, and I have no fucking clue what to do next. Evne more painful than the uncertainty of my future was the fact that my wife had given up on me. I truly thought that love was unconditional, but that kind of fairy tale thinking will just get you hosed hard. I sure did.
So now, my wife and I have decided to make sure that the kids are our #1 priority. We forgave each other for all of the things we did during our marriage, and now were truly committed to making our family work. She'll take them for half the week, I'll take them for the other half. I've been slaving away on the house to get it ready to be sold, which unfortunately will not get too much in today's real estate market. And now I'm thinking that love can be unconditional, especially if I find the right person for me. Who knows when this will be, but the future seems hopeful.