Well, it finally happened.
My children are spending time at their dad’s with another woman. (Wait? What? Is that a typo? Let me try that again.)
My children are spending time at their dad’s with another woman.
- Eric is not pulling a Bruce Jenner.
- She has a name, but I respect her, so I’m not publishing it.
- She seems wonderful.
Okay, okay, I know: I have no right to complain. We’ve been divorced almost three years, I have Matt, we’re engaged. Don’t get me wrong: I’m happy for Eric. Really happy. I just mentally prepared myself for one thing but my human-beingness took a right turn last night.
LAST NIGHT LOOKED LIKE THIS
**It was the first weekend I didn’t have the kids nor Matt in quite some time.**
**I was painting anything white that needed a touch-up (2 kids + 1 dog = :0)**
**My phone chimed.**
**Pictures of her with my kids. (Everyone was smiling.)**
I said a right turn because I’ve seen the devastation that lurks left. When my dad first introduced Elizabeth to us, she was wonderful. She threw us birthday parties, baked delicious chocolate cakes, offered us an ear, advice, hugs, and love. She’s been an extremely loving grandmother to my children. I’m lucky to have her in my life.
**Hint: “luck” manifests from righteousness.**
Unfortunately, until the day she died, my own mother didn’t do right when it came to Elizabeth. I was a by-product of that for many years. Devastation lurks left.
Go right, Meg. Do the right thing.
RIGHT LOOKED LIKE THIS
**Sob. Sob. Sob. Ugly cry. Talk to Matt. XOXO. Feel better.**
Albert Einstein (genius!) said, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
It’s a miracle that my children have more and more people in their lives who love them.