Each time, you come out of it a little stronger, and at some point you realize that there are more flavors of pain than coffee. There’s the little empty pain of leaving something behind – gradutaing, taking the next step forward, walking out of something familiar and safe into the unknown. There’s the big, whirling pain of life upending all of your plans and expecations. There’s the sharp little pains of failure, and the more obscure aches of successes that didn’t give you what you thought they would. There are the vicious, stabbing pains of hopes being torn up. The sweet little pains of finding others, giving them your love, and taking joy in their life they grow and learn. There’s the steady pain of empathy that you shrug off so you can stand beside a wounded friend and help them bear their burdens.

And if you’re very, very lucky, there are a very few blazing hot little pains you feel when you realized that you are standing in a moment of utter perfection, an instant of triumph, or happiness, or mirth which at the same time cannot possibly last – and yet will remain with you for life.

Everyone is down on pain, because they forget something important about it: Pain is for the living. Only the dead don’t feel it.

Pain is a part of life. Sometimes it’s a big part, and sometimes it isn’t, but either way, it’s a part of the big puzzle, the deep music, the great game. Pain does two things: It teaches you, tells you that you’re alive. Then it passes away and leaves you changed. It leaves you wiser, sometimes. Sometimes it leaves you stronger. Either way, pain leaves its mark, and everything important that will ever happen to you in life is going to involve it in one degree or another.” 

- Jim Butcher (American Author)

I need a little help. Our dear LG needs a bit of poking and prodding.

She has at least 50 plus blogs in various stages of completion. Many of which are amazing pieces of the written word as you have come to expect from her.

Yes she works terrible crazy horrendous hours… but she needs to finish the many collectives of thought she has begun, so she can move forward. ( You do know this blog is therapy… right?)

So if you want to ” hear” more from our dear LG, please send her an email ( goddess AT ourpolylife.org )  and encourage her to WRITE !! She needs to know there are still readers out there I think.

Temptress

Temptress

We have reached that companionable rut that many couples accidently find.  I don’t think our relationship was built on intimacy, but the lack of it is certainly giving me pause to consider things.

It seems with the men now gone from our lives, so has the intimacy.  Of course they are not to blame, it is just a timely coincidence because with their departure our way of life completely changed.

Before we ended our time as Stay at home moms, we had the days where the children were gone at school and the men or man in residence was away at work. These were wonderful times when we could be free to love each other in the most intimate of ways with no thought of anything or anyone else.  It’s not that we were together everyday, a few times a week at most. Occasionally a week would go by without having found the time to be together just us, but rarely more.

Now of course we have the same time constraints of every other couple. Work, children, stress, home life…. It all closes in around us and eeks away any possible time. Now it can be weeks at a time before we are to have a few, what feels like, “stolen” moments.

It has always been known by my partners that I have a fairly decent sex drive. Or had. I guess maybe that has withered away as well because it isn’t the sex or the orgasm I seek, it is the intimacy, it is that one connection that seems to meld our hearts above and beyond our bodies. I want to lose myself in her, it has nothing to do with my pleasure or “release” ,it’s all about being a party to hers. Its about the connection.

Maybe I am giving all of the outside distractions to much credit, maybe it isn’t that at all. We have the strangest of relationships after all, in the fact that we love each other, we fell in love with each other, but we are not Lesbian or Bi, so maybe ( and I could be reaching here), just maybe it isn’t all of those “other” things. Maybe it is because I’m just not the gender that she needs on that level.

I say she because I need her, I crave her, my soul absolutely cries out for her on a daily basis. I have jumped into this new life with both feet. I don’t care what label people want to use to describe us and this new version of our family. Bi, lesbian, weird… whatever. This is my life and my family and if asked I am not in the least uncomfortable to share it.

She holds back. She says she isn’t concerned about others reactions, but time and again I see her hesitating, waffling, offering a “safe” version.  She says it is because,” its no ones business”, or its not her place ” to rock someone’s world”, or “I just didn’t feel they needed to know.” All very valid reasons, but they begin over time to sound like excuses.

She is very wrapped up in how she is seen by others, what they think, or how they perceive her to be. Her high school reunion is coming up soon. She has refused to contact the reunion committee or to even consider attending. I’ve gotten several excuses. And I do know one of them is valid, she doesn’t want to be seen at her size. Ok I get that on a basic level. But also I’m certain she doesn’t want to have to go explain the dissolution of 20 yrs of marriage and possibly get cornered about her new life.  There might be questions she is un-prepared to answer.

But I have digressed…. So many evenings I see her struggling past 8pm to keep her eyes open long enough to see the kids off to bed. Now that her overtime has kicked in and she rises at 5 am, there is no way on earth I will ask a late night of her. She is just not a night time girl, never has been. Friday nights are of course the worst, she is practically a zombie and the youngsters are usually up later than usual and wanting “ Mommy time”… the same holds true for Saturday evening.

Our mornings of course….. well she is up at 5, showered, dressed, made-up to leave by 5:45-6. No time there.  Saturday and Sunday mornings ? Well, that’s about it.

For a short while Saturdays were THE day, but it began to feel scheduled and then the kids started to get smart to the closed door and if their pacing outside of it did not get the desired effect, then they let the dogs from their crates so they could jump and whine at the door. Effectively dousing any hint of mood that might have existed. It’s a little hard to tell them to back off because we are intimacy deprived. And so I grit my teeth, and swing my feet from the bed declaring the day to have begun… sigh.

 So often now it is just “easier” to not even start what I know won’t be finished. And will instead leave me angry and resentful of the pulls on our time. Invariably of course my anger always turns and heads directly at my perceived  primary cause every single time. Maybe one day I can get past blaming him for every ill in our life, but currently that’s not the case. So no matter what has halted things I will guarantee I can trace it back to what I consider to be the “root.”

She asks why she needs to instigate, why she needs to be the aggressor? Aggressor… what a funny word for her. Aggression is not something she does. So I smile each time she uses that word. I have told her time and again, I have watched her acquiesce to the wishes of the men when they showed interest and she had none. She is a great actress there, and I don’t ever want to be part of the play. And so because of that, I need to know she is interested, because SHE is, and not because I asked. I have said a 1000 times over, crook your finger and I am there.

Each night as we turn off the lights and wrap our arms around each other I feel comforted and loved…. And yet I feel empty and sad. Is it me, am I wanting to much, am I asking more of her than I should. As her arms stretch across my back her fingers begin a slow and rhythmic pattern and I can feel the heat coming from them that threatens to burn me… it spreads to every area of my body. I struggle to keep my breathing even and to hold back the tears that I know will come.

She makes no further advances and neither do I. And in a matter of moments I hear the soft breaths that tell me she is asleep.

Goddess how I miss her.

There are a precious few days her company has as scheduled off days, and even fewer of those coincide with days the kids are in school. I find myself looking at the calendar and thinking “ Hey, September has a day and look, there is another one in December, and one more in February. ”  I feel a tingle of hope flare as I look towards that one day, weeks into the future with expectancy. And then I realize, once again there is that word EXPECT, we have once again scheduled time together.

But not to worry, fate will step in. And the night before one of the kids will come to us with a malady of sorts. And I will lay awake all night preparing myself for the inevitable and sure enough, when 6am rolls around and we slip into the rooms to wake the children for school, that little forehead will be the one burning with fever. And I will feel the tears threaten as I see the day dissolve in front of my eyes. Days, weeks of hopeful… wait for it… EXPECTANCY, gone in a blink.

I don’t blame the child….. but I feel a pain inside as another little piece of time with her slips away.

When we are lucky enough to actually get a day, I begin to wonder if as time passes if these will be the only days we find, or will this part of our relationship just slip away over time and leave us in a loving and companionable existence where intimacy is no longer a part of life we share.

Or worse yet, she decides she needs more, or needs normal? And I of course will not be able to fill that bill.

I pass the bathroom mirror and take a good hard look at what I see reflected there. Maybe she isn’t the ghost I see. Maybe I am.

~T

To be honest however this summer seems to have flown by. We have just at 21 days before the first day of school for our crew begins. The month of June found our kids bouncing from father to father, grand parent to grand parent and camp to camp. It truly was an act of logistical juggling to be sure no one was missed in the grand scheme of things.

Now as we draw near the close of July, Fix, Goddess, and myself are excitedly planning a trip to see our oldest son graduate from Army Basic Training next week. This is a special time for him and one that causes introspection and fond reflection for me.

Miss Academic is finally realizing the close of summer means she needs to step up her sorting and packing activities in preparation for her leave taking to the College she has chosen for her higher education. Goddess and I are excited to take her to school, see her settled in and watch as she launches herself into life as an adult.

Our next in line son, Scout, has been away since the end of  May as a counselor at BSA camp. He has been very missed and we will all be so very happy to have him home. He grew 3 inches  last summer and we are pretty certain he may well have reached that again this year. He has matured into such an amazing young man and his quiet presence is nice to have in our now ” Mother’s only” home.

With Drummer Boy, now named Soldier, and Miss Academic both flying our nest, LG and I are left with 7 of our 10 kiddos to see to adult hood and we know that the next 3 years will see us down 2 more. Our Poly Life has taken on such a different look and with each passing day our family continues to change and morph and as well applaude the growth and maturity of our children we wait in anxious anticipation of each new phase of our life.

Temptress

Temptress

Dog Days

1. Are you a dog or cat person?

Cat…. I love cats. Our family had an amazing kitty we were given when she was 12. Her elderly owners had passed and we were blessed with her. She lived with us for another 12 years… she finally passed at  he age of 24, there is barley a day goes by that I don’t think of our Mitzi. She still has a definite place in my heart.

2. Do you have a dog? Have you ever had a dog?

We currently have 2 dogs. Riley is a cream colored Poodle/Bichon and  came to live us in September of 2009. He is now 3 1/2,  and is 16 pounds of pure energy. He is a real knucklehead, but the kids adore him and he loves them. Bailey a cream colored poodle, came to us in January of 2009. A tiny 6 # little old lady, she just wants a warm quiet lap to rest her bones and be protected from thunder and anything bigger than her.

3. What is your favorite breed of dog?

My two favorite breeds of dog are at complete opposite ends of the spectrum. I love poodles, because they are smart and loving and the two favorite dogs of my childhood were poodles. My second favorite is the Doberman Pincher. The kindest most loving dog I have ever met was a Dobe… he had been beaten, abused and starved. And yet he was full of love for our family. He seemed to know in his kind brown eyes that not all humans were bad and not all humans would hurt him. He re-paid us for rescuing him every single day he lived with his love and companionship.

4. Do you believe that dogs truly are man’s best friend?

Yes I do believe the love and companionship of a dog is truly the most accepting and unconditional type of love and friendship. A dog just wants you to love him and care for him and in turn he will be more loyal than most any human being.

5. If you could come back to life as a dog, would you? Why or why not?

No  I wouldn’t come back as a dog, at least not until humans learn to treat them with care and respect. I have seen the horrors of what happens to a unloved pet, humans can be the most cruel of our planets species.

Hurt me…. Nope, not gonna happen, I just don’t feel it.

Hurt my wife or my children well that’s another story. That brings the strong emotions of protectiveness and rage when he does something inherently stupid and brings out the Momma Bear in me.

I have been saddened and appalled at the behavior this man has exhibited over the last 2 years. I had always thought him to be above petty childishness. I held him in the highest of esteem and saw him to always be an honorable man of integrity. Not so.

With the exception of a few short months he has not paid his child support in full. And he has not paid the agreed upon alimony. He leaves Goddess struggling each month to provide the needs and wants of the kids. He puts her in the position of being the “bad guy”.  The one who always has to say no.

Uncle Dad however gets to swoop in take the kids on grand outings to mini golf and arcades, mountain get-away’s, the zoo and other fun activities.

Those are the petty points. I have a real one to make.

Since his departure from our home Big has hopped from hotels, to parents house, to room-mate situations, to girl friends homes. He has always wanted a vagabond lifestyle and these last 2 years have afforded him that.

The kids have never really known in advance where they would be when hanging with Dad and on many occasions voiced the desire to us to have “a place” that was settled during their time with him.

Overall, what he did where his housing was concerned was not something we could control and as long as the kids were safe it was not an issue we felt the need to tackle, and so we left it status quo.

Fast forward to this past February. Fix moves out…. Rents a 2 bedroom apartment and sets up a room for the kids. Then he adds toothbrushes, hairbrushes, toiletries, toys and clothes. He announces the kids aren’t to bring suitcases when the come to the apartment. It is their home as well, they aren’t visitors so they shouldn’t be schlepping belongings around.

The children love this. The love that they aren’t packing and unpacking, that they have a place that is theirs and they feel comfortable and welcomed.

Goddess and I are very touched by what Fix has done for the kids. We are even more touched by his care and consideration of our family as a whole. The agreed child support is in my hand on time each month, and he asks each time he is here what do we need, are the bills met, what can he do? If we make any noise about being short or needing something, it is produced to the best of his ability.

He is still very much involved in our lives and that of the children.  He constantly shows care and consideration for our feelings and our well being and that of the kids.

Oh wait… I was discussing my status as Momma Bear.

Within the last week or so Big moved into a house. One that includes a female “room-mate” that is quickly changing to “ something more”,( who I shall call “A”) and her 2 kids.  Ok, not a big deal. Best of luck with that.

Goddess decided to start small with this new arraignment and suggested to Big that he get toothbrushes, hairbrushes and toiletries for the kids. Sort of a first step in them having a home with him as well.

Three of our kiddos returned yesterday after spending a few days with him.  Today our “ Ladybug” tells us that Daddy is putting the bunk bed set we gave him into A’s children’s room and that it will be used by them. And the bed A’s child will kept  … are you ready…. FOR GUESTS. That’s right. The visiting children are considered guests. They don’t have a room, or a place in his house. They get space as GUESTS.

Now I will honestly say this was told to us by a nine year old. And no matter the full story… this child is telling the tale as she sees it to be. She sees that there is guest space, and she has determined that she and her siblings are the guests.

Shame on you Uncle Dad. You have already lost the love and respect of our 18 year old daughter. You discount her feelings because she is her mothers daughter. You do not see she has her own thoughts and feelings and they are tainted by nothing but her own thoughts and feelings.

You have hurt our oldest daughter and are on the path of hurting others. Be warned, this Momma Bear is far worse than that dog that barked at the end of the chain.

I expected that Big would be the caring and considerate father. The one to always be sure the children were cared for and happy. I thought he would be the one that would still consider our family to be of the utmost importance. I thought he would be the one to come to Sunday dinner, be present at Birthdays and wake up in our home with our children on Christmas as part of our family ritual. Instead he has disappointed me greatly and left me wondering if he will look back on his life and realize what he has lost. Because he has lost and he will continue to lose as each of these kids grows and comes to adulthood and makes realizations of their own just as Miss Academic did.

Fix has been the one to step up. The one who was most volatile, the one who was least likely to play nice. He has made a home for the children, and takes an active part in their lives. He is trying to learn their teachers, their activities and what makes them tick.

When two people divorce there will always be hurt. There will always be a he said she said. But when there are children involved, there should also be an understanding that while the marriage is over, the task of raising the children still exists. The children need love, care and attention from both parents. They need to know that they are accepted and that while their parents are not longer a couple, they are still a parental unit that works collectively to see to the well being of the kids. To many times the absent parent chooses to take a back seat role both physically and financially.

Child support is not money paid to the ex to fund their trips to Bora Bora, those fund are for shoes and back packs, field trips, housing expenses, and mom can have 5$

Our dear friend OHM became divorced a few months before Big and Goddess and parted ways. He does not act like a part time Dad. His children have a room, clothes and toys at their home with him. He emails and calls their teachers, he organizes sleepovers and has as much to do with their daily lives as he possibly can. His Ex wishes he would drop off the earth, but bless him, he keeps being a Father, no matter how difficult she makes it for him.

I wish all of the Uncle Dad’s out there could be half the man he has shown himself to be.

In conclusion… I wish things could have been different. I can’t say I wish they had ended differently, because I didn’t want there to be an end. I wanted the four of us to be the quad that made it. The one to beat the odds. But we  weren’t. 

So now what I wish for is peace and harmony. For our children to have what the need and not be left wanting. Both emotionally and materially. I wish for everyone to play nice, to step up, to be the person you know you should be. I don’t like being a Momma Bear … I much prefer co-parent.

Temptress.

So many new things to tell about… so much has changed. I will try to tell of them in order, but many are interwoven and hard to keep separate on the timeline.

As all of our readers know of course… it is almost 2 years since Big left our home, leaving us a triad. And 10 months since he and Goddess finalized their divorce. It was long and drawn out and painful for all involved, and still is on many levels. Goddess, Fix and I carried on as a triad as best we could – until a domino effect began rather unexpectedly.

In July of last year Drummer Boy left to finish his last year of high year at an accelerated military program. Within days, Fix moved out of the bedroom he shared with me and Goddess. There were a lot of reasons for this, but mostly it was because the 3 of were still reeling from  ALL of the events of recent years and we were rather shell shocked.

In November, after 2 months of interviews and breath holding, Goddess was awarded a stupendous job whose parent company is European.  What is so great about a foreign parent company you ask? Why the insurance of course ! Not only is it fantastic, and very affordable and began the date of her hire, it also recognizes Domestic Partnerships (even if your home state doesn’t) and the children of the partner. Pretty cool, huh? Well… one draw back, Fix and I were married. So no partnership was afforded us where Goddess’s company was concerned.

But wait…. Fix came to me one day several weeks after Goddess was hired and spent an hour convincing me of all of the reasons why we should divorce. The top reason was the insurance, but another was that of placing Goddess and I on equal footing with him…. No more wife and mistress.  But one of the greatest reasons was the protection of our children. A triad poly relationship may have been questionable by some governmental agencies. But a “lesbian” domestic partnership with an ex husband in residence in the basement apartment… not so questionable .Again, more reasons behind the event, but those were the top three.

Within days all of the divorce papers had been created, the settlement agreement decided upon, and on the morning of December 9^th wheels were set in motion for the dissolution of 20 years of marriage. We agreed that nothing was going to change other than the fact that we weren’t married. We weren’t really planning to tell many people about the divorce, we would continue to live together in the same home, and continue status quo.

Just before Christmas, we all traveled to Drummer Boy’s base to see him graduate high school. It was a proud day indeed!

I began an educational/career journey in early January that includes an apprenticeship that will take 3-5 years to complete. So now both Goddess and I, who had been stay at home moms for 20 years, were now both in the work force and making inroads towards a new future as more than just mommies.

Also, the three of us knew something we hadn’t told the children yet. When our two year lease was up in just a few short months, we would be moving. It wasn’t what we wanted, we had intended to stay and renew the lease for at least 2 more years. As our readers know, we have moved our clan way too many times over the course of these last 5 years. Unfortunately, Goddess, Fix and I couldn’t comfortably keep up the house the 4 of us had moved into together without the full amount of Child support and Alimony being received in addition to our salaries and Big was not in a position to follow thru as agreed. Goddess and I had already begun to look and see what sort of homes were out there that would fit our large family for a price we could afford AND one willing to let 9 children live in the home.

On January 28^th I woke up, drove to the court house and was handed a signed stack of papers naming Fix and I as newly separate entities. I went to the car, read through all the papers, had a good cry, picked my chin up and moved forward knowing this was an important and needed step.

February seemed to be the month slated for real change. On the 17^th I sat across the breakfast table from Fix. We enjoyed a nice conversation and meal and said our good-byes as I headed off to a day of work. I thought he did as well. I fought traffic to the other side of the city as per my usual drive and was surprised when an hour later Fix was calling my phone. He started the call simply by saying he wanted me to know he loved me/us, but he felt like we all needed time. And by the time my work day was over and I returned home, he would be gone. I was shell shocked. There wasn’t much I could say and in fact I felt rather incapable of speech.

I called Goddess at work, told her about the call, sniffled in her ear for a bit, we came up with a plan to be sure our children would have stability and then lifted my chin once again, went on to work and finished my day.

On my way home I made a call that had Goddess and I meeting a realtor that afternoon and signing papers on a home that would fit our kids and we could (we hope) afford on our own. As difficult as the day had been and the spur of the moment decisions that had to be made, our toughest hurdle was about to take place.

Goddess and I had dinner with the kids and then called them all to the living room for a family meeting. It was time to tell them that Fix had moved out, that we had in fact divorced, we were moving… in 11 days …. And that several of them would be changing schools. Goddess I felt that as much tough info as we had to impart, it would be best done Band-aid style. Hurt now, all in one swipe, and deal with the pain afterward.

I have to give our kids kudos. There were tears, there was upset and hurt. Comments of little ones not wanting to lose another Daddy. Concern by older kids of how we would get by. But in the scheme of things our kids are troopers. They woke up the next morning ready to tackle the world and begin the process of moving….. forward.

In an amazing short amount of time our home was packed, and on the moving weekend Fix came with a moving truck, and some help, and several dear friends came as well to see our family safely and efficiently transferred to our new home that was ½ the size of our former one, but actually fit us pretty well. Ahhhh…. Time to relax now.

Oh Wait… there is more.  I saved the very best for last. On February 21, in the soft evening light of our bedroom filled to the brim with packing boxes, in the presence of a dear friend who is a notary, Goddess and I signed official documents making us Domestic Partners.  And later that night as we lay snuggled in bed alone we exchanged simple silver rings fashioned into knots and wrapped our arms around each other and drifted off to sleep as newly minted “partners” and “wives”.

I now dare ANYONE who may suddenly have a problem with our living together or our children living in our home to say or do anything. We are legally entangled now and the ACLU would just love to take this one on. Our very long and distinguished list of legal advisors are wringing  in the glee over the opportunity to fight this battle for us.

In the course of 4 months, Goddess and I returned to work after being at home mom’s, Fix and I divorced, Fix moved out and Goddess and I moved our kiddos to a new home and we officially became Domestic Partners, Wife and Wife… whew ! That was exhausting.  What an amazingly busy and chaotic 120 days.

If you thought the last 5 years had been crazy… the last months were crazier yet.

We have been in our new home 3 months now and we are happily settled. Everyone likes their room, the kids that had to change schools have settled in nicely and are looking forward to the new school year and getting back to newly made friends. Goddess and I are settling in to our roles as working Mom’s and Fix is finding his way as a single Dad. 

We saw Drummer boy off to Basic training for the Army on May 16^th and 10 short days later we watched as Miss Academic received her High School diploma.  She now prepares for her college experience 6 hours away from us. Soon our brood of 9 will be 7 and we will once again traverse the shifting sands of change.

August of 2005,  two couples began a journey that would test them and find them wanting.  These past 24 months have seen the full dissolution of our polyamorous cross- coupled quad and has left us as an entirely new dynamic.  The men are navigating their way through their own changes and Goddess and I are discovering this new world as heterosexually divorced and homosexually married. A friend refers to us as their favorite Lesbian NON Lesbians. Ahh… there goes those labels we hate so much.

The last 5 years have taught us much, but no lesson has been more perfected than that of moving on with each new change and shift. Time moves forward and so shall we.

Temptress

 I’ll be the first to admit I’m easily distracted.  My train of thought is usually in route to the next station before all the passengers are loaded.  There is a reason Kurt Vonnegut was once a favorite read – I can identify with all that stream of consciousness writing. (See, there I go again…)

 So, as I begin to sift through pages of scribbled notes, I thought perhaps I’d wonder over to our blog and see what types of stats or responses we’d had of late.  What actually wound up occurring was a systematic reread of most of our static pages, along with all 16 months columns from our stint as columnists on Poly Percs.  Not even a year and a half… and it seemed so much longer at the time.

 There is a measured amount of (cringe, I see it coming) realism in those posts.  With any amount of forethought one can see it headed towards you like a speeding freight train.  In retrospect I can live each of those volatile moments that lead to certain words on the screen.  Looking back through our archives has a certain therapeutic quality, and then a certain palm to forehead resignation.

 We tried.  Those articles were not just theoretical drivel; we lived every moment of what was written.  We talked, we communicated, we balanced, we rearranged.  And at the end of every “this poly thing is ever so complicated and we feel like we are drowning” was this lilt of hope.  Maybe it is the eternal optimist in me, but I honestly thought we’d make it.  I knew, just knew down deep we’d be able to pull off what so many others before us had not.  All we needed was a little more time, a little more understanding, a little more… {What? What was it that we needed to survive and thrive?}

 As a child, I remember vividly the times when a treasured balloon slipped from my grasp.  That moment when you realize there is NOTHING you can do to being that balloon back.  Reaching, grabbing, jumping up and down – none of it will deflate that balloon before the wind whisks it from sight.  All you can do is watch it float away.

 And thus were we.

 The challenge with relationships is you can’t force them to be something they are not.  Just like individuals, you can fake it for a while, but eventually the truth comes out.  If all parts of the whole are not in harmony, there will still be discord.  A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.  Can you think of any other worn out cliché’s that speak the same message?

 As sad as it is to admit, we didn’t have what it took, we weren’t like minded, and we were not as “exceptionally well put together” as we’d thought ourselves to be.  Our lives turned into a huge game of Tug of War.  And as you know, in that game, both the winners and losers eventually end up face down in the mud.  Everyone gets dirty.

 We had some really great moments, we lived to share some great examples of what to do, and we can retell humorous poly anecdotes from our glory days.  But in the end all four cars weren’t pushing uphill together.  The Little Engine only has so much strength in the face of overwhelming adversary. And in the end, our story did not have a happy poly ending.  We never made it over the hill; our mantra did not provide stamina and will power.

 Temptress and I share our days of melancholy remembrances.  I seem to be ever so much more preoccupied lately with the sad resolve.  But I think I’m moving past the point of hoping to recapture the balloon and just sigh as I watch it shrink into The Great What Was.

 ~ The Laundry Goddess, May 6, 2011

This is an oldie… but a goodie ……..

 As a child of the 80’s I was an impressionable teen when I sat in my grandparents living room one summer morning at 5 am wide eyed and wistful over the sapphire ring, billowy ball gown, and the floor length cascade of white flowers.  I, like every other Cinderella reading girl, was sold on the princess package. I remember the moment vividly when my step mother turned to my father and stated, “Save your money, she’ll (meaning me) want a wedding just like this.”

 So I’m standing in our bedroom this morning, coffee in hand and half dressed with wet hair when I realized I was transfixed to our small screen; a young couple was making a public commitment to hold each other sacred.  I don’t think one can watch or attend a ceremony such as this without experiencing some kind of reflection.  My mind wandered to my turn in an ivory gown.  My day was without monarchy prestige or millions watching, but it was enchanting nonetheless.

 I stood at The Alter with no doubts.  I knew Big was IT for me.  I was convinced that somehow he and I had something special and unique.  I bought the story hook, line, and sinker.  With no true role model for how a balanced partnership behaved, my fantasies of Happily Ever After came from The Brady Bunch and The Cosby Show.  What I didn’t know then, but came to find out was that my life did not have A list writers.  Everything was not always fair and funny.  And things did not always end with smiles and hugs.

 I pondered this loop of memories and harsh realities all the way to work this morning.  You know the scene from Field of Dreams when Costner says, “I’ve done all this and I never asked what was in it for me!”  “So,” Shoeless Joe replies, “what are you asking?”  And he replies, “I’m asking…  What’s in it for me?”  I know how that character feels.

 I married young, finished my education, had kids, made a home, was a “good wife.”  I expected to be able to boast a long and happy marriage.  Now I’m standing in the rubble of a 22 year marriage and some days I want to know what happened to my pay off?  I worked so hard for so long, and now I want to know, “What’s in it for me?”  There is a debilitating sense of hopelessness that settles in the pit of your stomach when expectation fails to meet your reality and there is no where left to go.  “This race is over, the end.  You are not a winner.  Please play again soon.”

 Of course, thoughts such as these are really not the way to begin a shiny Friday morning at work.  The benefit to what I do 40 hours each (and more during tax season) is that I can cocoon myself in an office cubicle with my computers and my head phones and not have to face any one until the tears finally dry.  And such it was this morning.  The earplugs went in for cover and, as only Karma can deliver, I heard these words…

 “Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared ‘neath the stars alone
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you’d ever say goodbye

And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I’d have had to miss the dance” (~ The Dance, Garth Brooks)

 Odd, isn’t it; when a moment impacts you, and there is a paradigm shift?  Our life together wasn’t perfect, no life is, but we had some really good years, produced five awesome kids together, he was my very best friend in the world for a long, long time.  It is easy in the midst of the pain and anger to focus on the negative and forget we had something really special for a time.  And loosing that hurts worse than any other wound.  On a morning the world watched a starry eyed young couple begin their life together, I mourn the loss of my own fairy tale.

 ~ The Laundry Goddess, April 29, 2011

 “Dear Temptress and Goddess,

 I found your blog… I read your blog… I’m intrigued by everything you’ve gone through…  I’m in a poly/swinging/unusual situation too… My triad/quad/five fingered arrangement thing is doing well even though we have our issues with jealousy/possessiveness/mental health we are working hard to overcome them… I’m so sorry to hear how everything has turned out for you…”

 (DISCLAIMER: I am thrilled we still get notes from readers, and we read them all with pleasure, so please do not take offense at the recreation of what most all newbie Polys experience, but take notice of the message that comes from within.) 

 And then she said what I presume most are thinking when they write to us, “I can’t help but wonder if our family is doomed.”

 As Temptress read this aloud to me during one of our scarce but treasured half-hour-lunchbox-meals-in-the-parking-lot moments, there was this shared sense of heaviness.  Mostly because every time we have to come face to face with what promised to be eternal sunshine but turned into years of dark clouds and drama it makes us sad.  Sad for what we never managed to hold on to, and sad for what won’t ever be, and sad for all the lost moments in the future that gave us so many memories in the past, and sad for being just one more statistic wasn’t able to make it work.

 And, as these letters often do, we set upon discussing once again all the “should and shouldn’t haves”, all the “wish we hads”, and all the “wouldn’t it have been nice ifs.”  So I think I am about to post a series of blogs about what went wrong, what was right, and how some hindsight would have pushed us in different directions.  It won’t save our quad, because I’m pretty sure from this perspective I’m of the opinion that we were too far outside the “well put together” spectrum from the beginning.

 However, there is hope.  For without hope there are no tomorrows worth living.  I don’t expect fairy tales to come true, and I dare not believe in the existence of knights in shining armor, but life can be lived to its fullest, and POLY CAN AND DOES WORK.  Despite everything, I still think polyamory is not only a valid lifestyle, but highly beneficial when handled correctly.  To me, polyamory is the best of all possible worlds, but it is not to be taken lightly.  With several important caveats, your poly relationship(s) is not doomed!

 Okay, fair Reader, press on…

 ~The Laundry Goddess, 31 March 2001

My marriage to Big wasn’t one of those “we’ll see how we do” types of things.  As a child of divorced parents with a long time single mother, I swore that would never be me.  It isn’t the life I wanted for my kids.  It wasn’t the legacy I wanted to leave.  If you’d asked me in 1988, 1998, or even 2008, I would have told you divorce was not an option for us.  I never believed that if things didn’t go well I could call scratch and start over.  When I make a commitment to someone or something, its iron clad; at least that is what I thought.

I’ve experienced a lot of paradigm shifts in my life, some more extraordinary than others, when my perspective on self is reexamined and I come out of the situation with a new lease on who I really am.  Usually it reads like, “Hmm, that was an unexpected response.  I wonder why I did that?  I wonder if that means I don’t really believe what I thought I believed?  I wonder if that changes who I am, or just who I thought I was?”

At 41, it is a very traumatic thing for me to be surprised at self.  It becomes the first step in a Domino Effect and within a period of time I find a systematic analysis of all facets.  If A changes, then does that necessarily change B, C, or D?  Sometimes yes and sometimes no.  Either way, it requires examination.

A few weeks ago a date passed by unmentioned.  It would have been, if celebrated, the 21^st anniversary of my wedding to Big.  He had been warned by a certain child not to make a deal of it and he complied.  Knowing how details slip by, I cannot be assured if he kept quiet out of respect or because he forgot until sometime later that the day had passed.  A year earlier I sat in our counselor’s office and tearfully read him a letter carefully constructed.  I spared no emotion, and then I did what I thought was best for him and for our family – I released him.

The response I got that day was unexpected.  I heard many “I can’t believe that is what you’d want” statements.  Perhaps my ears were just closed to the underlying messages there, but at no time that day or in the first months that followed did I hear him say he wanted anything different.  I was asked on several occasions, “Are you sure this is what you want?” And each time my answer was the same.  “No, it isn’t what I want.  But what I want isn’t a possibility.”

There was no fighting after that.  An eerie calm came down, like the somber realization of a family standing in the remains of a house burnt to the ground.  There wasn’t anything left to say, nothing to point out or win.  Just realize we’d lost everything and get back to the daily task of doing what we each had to do.

It wasn’t as if it didn’t affect me.  There were days when getting out of bed was the hardest thing I had to do all day.  There were weeks where the people around me acted as I was made of fine china; handling me with the upmost of care for fear I would shatter in their hands at any moment.  And I asked myself everyday if I’d done the right thing.  I asked myself what I could have done differently to produce a more appealing conclusion.  I asked why I wasn’t enough, why our family wasn’t enough.  I rethought every action and decision of the decade.  Eventually my train of thought came back around to the same station – knowing what I knew, I wouldn’t have changed anything.  I feel confident that I made the best choice I could for each situation every step of the way. 

Of course, there were times I could have been more tactful, could have been stronger; could have rephrased a certain request or statement for less impact.  Maybe what I should have done was been more intense, been more vocal, or stood firmer in my resolve.  But all of those thoughts are merely “what ifs.”  There is really no way of knowing how something could have been different, or if any other deviation would still have led us back to the inevitable conclusion. 

Regardless of the endless rehashing, we are where we are.  The “what ifs” don’t really matter; questioning the past really doesn’t change the reality.

Throughout our twenty three years together, I can remember the subject of only a very few fights.  In the grand scheme of things, Big and I didn’t really “fight;” we discussed.  And normally once we resolved whatever temporary issue happened to be, we put it behind us and moved on.

In the last few years, that was not always the case.  I remember most of our disagreements and the hurts they caused.  Big would ask me why I could so easily recall the painful times and forget the good parts of our life together.  Maybe the answer is because I feel like we got less resolution on the pressing issues.  We simply squared off in opposite corners, wanting mutually exclusive conclusions. In place of resolution, we walked away with resentment.

And it just makes me wonder how long I will mourn the “should” in my life.

“Man is the only animal that laughs and weeps, for he is the only animal that is struck with the difference between what things are and what they ought to be.”  ~William Hazlitt

~The Laundry Goddess, September 15, 2010

I have been accused of only being  able to blog during times of deep emotion, most often anger. I think I can now refute that statement. For the last 20 some months I have held a hurt so deep inside that it bubbled to the surface in the form of anger at the most unexpected of moments. I have been unable to write – even though I knew that getting my thoughts out would be cathartic, I felt paralyzed. My words fled from my head each time my fingers poised over the keyboard in preparation to write anything deeper than a FaceBook status.

I think I have finally reached a point now where I am able to once again discern the hurt from the anger. And in fact the anger is taking a back seat and becoming a pile of smoldering coals rather than the blazing inferno I had come to see as almost normal.

While the anger is still there smoldering – the hurt is once again in the forefront, much like in the beginning. But now I see things more in the light of nostalgia – what should have been, what was, what will never be.

I woke up the other morning, and for the first time in almost 2 years I took a full deep breath. In some ways it feels as if I have been barely breathing all this time. Like I have been taking small shallow breaths, only when absolutely necessary. I know that make no sense and I’m not certain how to really describe it other than to say it was as if I was in stasis – not really living, just existing.

When I woke up and took that full deep breath, I rolled over and wrapped my arms around my Goddess, burying my face in her hair, and realized a bit of that fog that I felt shrouded in had lifted. I felt her chest rise and fall under my arm and smelled the warm sweet scent I have come to recognize as hers alone and realized that for all of the hurt I have felt, I was a very lucky woman, and I held in my arms a truly wondrous gift. And that for all that had been lost all of the many months ago, I still held an amazing treasure.

That same morning Big came to pick up an assortment of children, and as I descended the stairs I met him at the bottom unexpectedly. We exchanged polite hello’s, but try as I might I still could not bring myself to meet his eyes.

Since that day in January , well over a year ago, when we ended our relationship, I have not been able to actually look him in the face, to meet his eyes. I look everywhere possible, his ear, his chest, over his shoulder, but never in the eyes. I have accidently done so twice – and both times the pain of loss overwhelmed me in a way I dare not hope to have repeated.

I would be lying if I did not say that I still loved him. I miss him, and I wish so very very much that things were different. When I look into his eyes I see him as he was all of those many times we were intimate – all of those times when he said he loved me – realizing now he never really meant it. I see him as he was the first time we made love, the night he placed his ring on m finger asking me to spend my life with him…. And when he did it again 6 months later, re-affirming his commitment. Because of these things, and hundreds more, I avoid his eyes at all costs.

Big has asked Goddess to let him return. The particulars, the where of’s and why for’s are their story to tell and not mine to attempt to tell.

What  I can say is that I am torn – for  the 18 months Fix and I were separated, I slept with Goddess and Big almost every night until Big and I ended things. And until Big moved out a year ago – there were only a handful of nights Goddess and I got to sleep together. It was awful to be with out her. I missed her presence terribly  each and every night. And these last 12 months Goddess has spent each and every night in my arms. This is not something either of us is willing to give up again.

So if Big were return , how would that look ?  Also, for as much as I love him, he was very controlling. Goddess of course had lived with it their entire marriage. It wasn’t something I was used to , or took  to easily, but there were many times I found myself bending to his will in order to please him.   So many times I didn’t agree or felt strongly about something and I bent. I can’t do that again. I can not lose myself again. He also had a way of being the king…. It was always about his way or what he felt was the right way. There was very little team mentality, it was “The boss” and the minions.  I just don’t know how things would look with his return.

He and I will never have a relationship beyond polite but distant respect, so how would I handle seeing him each and every day, knowing there would never be anything more than that. How would I handle the morning kitchen dance while I pour my coffee and he heats his tea ? Hearing his laughter , that on occasion almost sounds like a giggly girl. Watching his hands as they caress one of our daughters hair – and remembering when it was mine he caressed.

I am no different than any other person who is still deeply in love with someone who does not return the sentiment. In fact not only is the sentiment not returned, but I am to be blamed for the downfall and demise of his marriage in his eyes.

To be honest I’m not certain where I am going with any of this, other than the fact that for the first time in a long time I feel like writing, and I am letting the words fall where the may. I feel the need to get these thoughts out of my head in the hopes that I can build on this new ability to breath.

For many months now, my relationship with Fix has been very strained – and I am certain on numerous occasions the idea of giving up and going our separate ways has been a thought that we have both entertained. It is my sincerest hope that we can somehow find our back to each other. I have not given up and will continue to try each and every day to give our marriage it’s due diligence in the hopes of repairing the chasm that runs through it.

Both of these men have touched me deeply. I share a history with each, and while one may be of a greater amount time than the other. Each carries an importance in my life that has affected me in ways I may never know the full impact of.

In the dark of night, or broad day light, at a traffic light or over a sink full of dishes, my thoughts might  travel to one or the other of these men. I will see their eyes looking into mine. I will feel their hands caress my hair, or their lips brush across my skin. It is these thoughts that bring the feelings of what should have been. The feelings of deep loss, or in my strong moments, nostalgic happiness.

No matter what each day brings -  I begin it with my Goddess by my side –and end it the very same way. She and I parent together, run a home together, live, love, laugh and hurt together. We are eternally optimistic that life will take the course it is meant to, and while we may not understand or like the path all of the time, we will hold on for the ride, enjoying the good times and being there for each other in the bad. I know that no matter what, she and I  will travel the rest of this life’s course together.

The men in our lives helped us to merge our families almost 5 years ago. We promised each other and our children that this new family was enduring. Now we must find a way to make certain, that while it looks different from our original vision, we still function as the family that was promised to the 10 most important young people in our lives.

It is time to move forward, to look forward, to put the past on a shelf of fond memories and lessons learned. It is time to let the anger go and push that hurt into the background rather than the forefront.

While I will always feel pain, and always wish things had turned out different, I am ready to move forward and that means the time has come to put the anger to rest, to let it go and live free from it’s grasp.

I know the person to whom the words that follow are meant for will never truly understand them, will never truly grasp the hurt that was caused, the humiliation that was dealt at his hand….. these words aren’t really meant for him. They are for me, the are my way of moving on.

I forgive you for not being the man I thought you were. I forgive you for casting me aside. I forgive you for hurting me. For all of the wrongs I feel you inflicted in my direction, I forgive you. I forgive you for tearing apart our family. I forgive you for breaking your promise of forever.  I forgive you for not loving me.  I release the anger held these many months aimed in your direction for my pain and disillusionment….. I forgive you.

Temptress

Everyday a thought occurs to me… “I should blog about that.” Each of those ideas passes through the winds of creativity and falls hard off the cliffs of overwhelming chaos.  When my brain begins to think, to churn, to contemplate I find myself confronted by thought seizing interference.  Like white noise, too many emotions stifle the process and all of my journalistic acumen just withers on the vine.

~ The Laundry Goddess, August 8, 2010

I have been likened at one time to a dog barking the yard at the end of it’s chain….. just for clarifcation, that percieved dog was a chihuahua.

The dog that resides there now is a Rottweiler…… my family will be protected.

T

I am working to get the photos re-uploaded and have the blog back to it’s complete self asap.

Also, I wanted to give a shout out to a new quad blog on the block…. hey to  Amy and Kelly over at polyfidelicious. Welcome to the roller coaster… hang on tight !

Temptress

Are you holding on to something that you need to let go of ??