leslieism

Recently my daughter received an award at school for her integrity.  I mentioned to her teacher how blessed I am…having a nine year-old, recognized for her integrity.  Her teacher exclaimed that my daughter amazes her daily because of her compassion and empathy for others.  But this award,she tells me, involves a couple of specific incidents.  The first situation involved her confronting her classmates, her peers, during a social studies discussion.  She talked to them about a game that was being played at recess, a game making fun of a girl with slight autism. She said it was bullying and not the right way to treat someone, especially someone that may be a little different.  The teacher told me that my daughter did not approach it in a tattle telling type of way, but in fact, brought about a productive group discussion.  (I’m beaming with pride at this point)

Situation number two:  The kids write little narratives about their topic of choice and then are given the opportunity to read aloud.  The teacher tells me that my daughter wrote a short autobiography…centered around “the divorce”.  (Ugh. My gut hurt for a second) Then she read it to the class.  (Oh dear, I gasped)

Her teacher looks like she could be getting a tad emotional as she continues on…she tells me that the entire class starting clapping when she finished reading.  She tells me that the class has never clapped after a narrative reading. THEN, she says, six children’s hands shot up…each one wanted to share their own divorce/broken family stories. (I’ve got chills and tears in my eyes at this point) My daughter has been insisting that she is the only one in her class with divorced parents…I’m sure the other kids felt the same. The last little boy that shared, started crying as he talked about the fighting going on at home.  My child started a support group all because she had the courage to share her story…her feelings.

I know right.  I’m pretty much raising Jesus. Kind of a massive responsibility…raising a holy child. Especially since becoming a teenager is inevitable. Yeah, wait till Jesus starts her period. If she is anything like her mother, she is going to be one weepy, irritable, lil’ bitch. So I am working diligently on her training. Whenever she gives me any attitude, especially about chores, I wave my wrist (donning my W.W.J.D. bracelet)in front of her face…chanting, what.would.Jesus.do. She usually freaks out and boo hoos about the pressure of being Jesus n’ all. At this point, we pray.

Alright, enough of the Jesus biz. I’m working on a lengthy, serious-time blog and I wanted to give you something light and amusing beforehand. I also wanted to share this story(minus Jesus) from mountain tops. My daughter is the biggest blessing in my life and I don’t think there are words in the human language to describe how much I love her. So I thank God, daily, for giving me my very own Baby J.

Reeaallyyy?! Tonight’s episode of ‘Bones’, hmmm, not a lot of gross stuff…UNLESS YOU COUNT THE MUSHY, PERFECT, WEDDING. It was amazing and beautiful and Cyndi Lauper sang the Etta James classic, “At Last”. The romantic in me is slowly dying as it gets crushed by the rock it’s taking refuge under …but, well, that kind of music is like a defibrillator…to my dead romantic self.

Reminds me of a story:  Being an old fashioned kind of girl I once asked a guy to be my boyfriend with a note, a check the box kind of note.  Well, you know how boys are dumb? Apparently this guy was illiterate and when he finally learned to read(Thank you ABC Mouse)….he said we needed to talk. He says(very uncomfortably) “Sooooo, good news, I can read! And, uh, well….that note you gave me…..you know how I checked ‘yes’……I, thought, or hoped…mostly hoped, but either way I still couldn’t read aaannnndddd I was pretty sure it said ‘Would you please be my super good buddy…with benefits…and devoid of all emotional bonds?’.  Terribly sorry about the misunderstanding! At least it won’t ever happen again….I can read!”.
I threw a rock at him. Then I crawled under it.

I’ve been watching an abundance of “Bones” lately, filling an emptiness with the weird and gross.  Unfortunately, television execs believe cutesy couples are actually the “empty-fillers” desired by the public.  So they put three on the show. Right on. 
So one half of one of the couples contracted a mutated strain of botulism, major bio hazard, in critical need of an anti-serum, blah blah blah.  His lady, the head coroner, gave a dramatic speech over his comatose body…concluding with a “I love him”.
Ugh. A moment of cynicism smacked me in the face as I pictured the guy waking up…so happy to be alive….his lady all happy…..and then he’s like “oh hey, btw, I don’t like you like that”…and then I chuckled all cynically.
Then I scratched my leg and was like, whoa! When is the last time I shaved?  Starting to remember why being single is so awesome(said in a sing song voice).  And honestly, when I’m wearing shorts, all curled up on the couch…with myself…and my hairy legs….I give em a little rub…and for like 2 seconds it’s like watching a movie with a man friend. 
The next simpleton that tries to hit on me at work is gonna get a ba-bam, when I fling out my fleecy leg or flash an armpit.
Cynical episode over. 

And I continue:

Let me iterate, a phenomenon occurred in court….SWAT removed my resentment and an Angel, kindly scraped out the leftover residue.  I was free. I conceived a life with no more fighting or bitterness for us…for others…the whole damn world.  And although I was ridiculously sad and incredibly vulnerable (from my awesome morning) I didn’t even think about me. Holy shit! It’s not about me! (If you’re keeping tabs on all the phenomenon action happening, take notes now).  I was not concerned with my feelings and the feelings I would have felt in the past would have motivated my need for validation and control.  All I wanted was for there to be more happiness and love…even if it wasn’t for me(because it’s not all about Leslie).  I opened my eyes to the effort my ex husband had recently been displaying with our daughter and decided it was good enough.  Baby steps in the right direction.  Plain and simple, a complicated situation between my ex husband and my daughter and I…just became simple.  If the circumstances remain stable, my daughter has a father again. Happiness and love for my baby.

My ex husband and I can communicate like grown-ups now. We can be in the same room and not choke from tension.  We can talk about his new family…and I feel content, like this makes more sense than we did…and I can wish them happiness and not be lying. 

Okay.  I have no exact rubric or recipe for how I made it to this peaceful place.  Baby steps + trying to live right + positive people in my life + moving forward + courage + honesty + unconditional love= a whole lot of progress and growth and serenity.

Ps. Let’s be real, “bad stuff” should be scattered intermittently throughout “The Leslie Theorem”(weird, it’s like everything is always about me). Life will never run that smoothly and thank goodness for that……we can’t improve ourselves if we’re perfect….so we persevere.

Pps. That little equation(which is merely a rough estimate)also described the relationship that I am currently grieving over. So, therefore, my relationship helped me reach this place of peace, as well.  And one can assume (since we know that each moment creates another) that our breaking up, well, you understand what I’m saying.  I just refuse to say it because it pisses me off.  I can be all tra-la-la-la-la and rainbowy, but I’m still human. I don’t have to understand everything and I certainly don’t need to agree with everything.  I can only accept the way it is right now.  I also accept that it won’t always be like this, whether we get back together or whether we don’t, the sadness will dissipate either way. So, since you brought up the possibility of us getting back together(yes, it was you not me)…do you think sending a singing telegram or perhaps, oh I don’t know, leaving a stray puppy with my name on the collar, on his doorstep….would this be considered “hopping aboard the crazy train”? Lol Do not worry about me. I will persevere.

Alright my friends, I must get some sleep. My story is done for now. Thank you for listening.

May you live in love and happiness.

I don’t recommend reading this unless you have read Part One.  Also, please note that English is not my second language nor am I dyslexic.   This story can only be told in a haphazard manner.
Try to follow me as I continue on:

So, I came to the conclusion that I was 95-98% positive about my decision to proclaim my love. 
I commenced my proclamation and an internal jubilee ensued.  Trumpets played and confetti blew out of my chest.  That’s what it felt like anyhow…I had no idea I felt so much pressure in my bosom, my lungs, my heart, and it disappeared as soon as I manned up. I went to sleep with a smile that night.

Okay. Fast forward two weeks later.  I will not go into much details about  the break-up. I cried. We parted as friends. I think he might be suffering from a mental handicap. Not really. The end.

Two hours later I had court with my ex-husband. I know, not exactly “the best day ever!”  EXCEPT, a shift in the universe took place(and according to the latest personality test I’ve taken, “I’m in harmony with the universe”) and I let go. I let go of things I didn’t even know I was holding on to.  This is the best I got to explain this phenomenon. I didn’t realize I was harboring resentment, like an escaped convict…it snuck up on me and held me hostage. And all of a sudden, without warning, SWAT showed up and threw resentment in solitary confinement in a maximum security prison. 

To be continued…

Ten days ago(but who’s counting)(not me) a relationship I hold dear to my heart, ended.  Trying to write a blog about what I am experiencing has proven to be rather difficult.  You see, I write about personal, negative events, give it a positive spin with a “the moral to the story is…”throw in some humor…maybe some politically incorrectness and wal-lah.  This confounded ordeal however, has no negativity…despite my sadness, the whole thing wreaks of positivity and happiness and spiritual enlightenment.  I feel like a “hallelujah” and a “praise the Lord” should be said aloud. Right now. So do it.  Now here’s my story:

I didn’t learn about unconditional love until a few years ago. Being given pure unconditional love taught me how to love myself. Once I began loving myself I was able to give unconditional love to others.  Weights were getting lifted off my shoulders left and right.  Romantic love was out of the question for me, however, especially unconditional romantic love. 

My marriage literally traumatized my heart. I no longer(if I ever even did)knew what love was or what it meant.  At one point I thought I was “cured” of my marital pain.  Evidently I was not.  I couldn’t understand why it felt as if I still cared. -I’m going to skip ahead now:

For the past year I’ve been in a relationship that has changed me, forever, and I’m grateful.  When I started feeling romantic love towards this man, I fought it with every ounce of my being. All I knew is: love=pain.  Eventually I realized my feelings were not going away. What do I do with that? Well, first,  I had to admit I was afraid of getting hurt.  Second, I had to determine if my love was unconditional…no expectations or strings attached.  Third, I had to know that I love myself enough to accept the aftermath of my confession.

To be continued…