Taking a break today from all of the questions (but keep sending them in – I’m enjoying answering them!) and so I thought I would pull something out of my archives. This can be fun, but also annoying because I was extremely bubbly at 21 when I started this blog. Oy.

On Nov. 15, 2002, I published my criteria for Mr. Right. Basically, it was a list of the things I’d change about the man who is now my ex-husband and I wrote it the week after we had broken up, before we were ever married.

Seven years later, I will tell you that I later dated a couple of guys who met a lot of the criteria. One of them was pretty spot-on with everything I was looking for, but it just wasn’t the right timing. I thought it was the end of the world, but oh how I have lived, loved and enjoyed myself in the years since my last heartbreak.

Here’s the list, and here’s how my real Mr. Right matches up with the expectations I set at age 21: (more…)

I have often wrestled with my feelings concerning my ex-husband and his involvement with our children. And I have often voiced those concerns here, there and elsewhere.

Simply put, I hate his choices. I resent him for his choices. I do not understand his choices.

This coming week will mark two years since he has seen the kids. I cannot stand two days without them, so two years is more than I can fathom. How do you go so long without seeing children you created? Children who worship the ground you walk on?

Like many children in this situation, my kids think their father is the greatest thing since sliced bread. The older two do, actually, since they remember him. Jenna has no memories of her father, other than phone conversations (and I seriously doubt she remembers the actual conversation). They think he’s wonderful because he isn’t mean like I am. He doesn’t make them do their homework or eat their food or go to bed by 8 p.m. He sends them birthday cards with $20 bills tucked inside or sometimes boxes with shoes or toys for Christmas.

Sometimes I really hate him because the kids like him better. I know it’s because they’re young and they don’t understand and one day they will realize the sacrifice and struggle that go along with being a single parent, but still I get so angry.

Ever since they were conceived he has been involved as little as possible. I could give examples until I am blue in the face, actually. But more recently, ever since our split, he has rarely seen the children. Before we moved to Tennessee, he’d see the kids for 40 minutes of his hour lunch break once, maybe twice, a week and he was living 10 minutes away from us (he actually told me he was living in his truck at one point, and to not tell his parents, but I later found out he was living with the girl he left me for). So when we moved to The Volunteer State, I knew we’d barely see him. And I was right.

Still – two years? My goodness. And he hardly calls them. I have resorted to sending him MySpace messages when I need to tell him something because he is more likely to respond to those because I can tell when he’s read a message I’ve sent. Last week I sent a message about Jaiden once again making straight As on her report card and Jaylen continuing to make improvements in terms of his behavior and social abilities; he’s read it, but has yet to respond, call, text or anything. Not that I am surprised, my heart is just broken for my children. They deserve to have a father who is proud of them, who is amazed by their accomplishments, who can stare at them every day and be in awe of their beauty and the person they are each becoming. They deserve to be commended for their achievements and it really angers me when he ignores them.

I don’t think they knew what they were missing until we moved in with Darin.

Suddenly, Jaiden is hesitant to speak with her father on the phone when he calls. I have to force her. I think she now knows what a daddy is and what a daddy does. Through Darin’s example, and probably through growing up, she now understands a daddy’s role in a family. She knows there isn’t supposed to be a mommy playing both roles.

Since we’ve been engaged, we decided we would let the kids decide what they would call their step-parent; Emma calls me Mama Echo and my kids call Darin by his first name (sometimes Jenna calls him Darin Daddy or Daddy Darin). They call their father Daddy. But more and more lately, Jaiden has been referring to Darin has her daddy.

Tonight at dinner she said she missed her daddy and the other two chimed in, saying they missed him too and asked when he’d be back. I typically do not answer this question because I have absolutely no idea (and refuse to make excuses for him), but I offered to call him for them like I always do. This is when Jaiden clarified, “No, not Daddy, we miss Darin.”

That? Is absolutely bittersweet. Sweet because it just is, but bittersweet because perhaps she is beginning to get over her father’s lame attempt at being involved with her, and she’s only six.

Darin does the things dads are supposed to do, like carting kids to the dump with him just because they want to go along for the ride, helping Jaiden paint her bike, jumping with them on the trampoline, fixing breakfast every morning and much, much more. He praises their successes and talks to them when they need to be corrected. He goes to soccer games, PTA performances and picks them up from school when I can’t. He tries to teach them how to play baseball and soccer and turn the lights off when they leave a room. And he doesn’t mind the ‘daddy duties’ I assign him (ha) like helping Jaiden pull her tooth out (because I do not do teeth).

I never set out to replace their father. That never has been and never will be an option. But in Darin I found a partner who would not only be there for me but would also be there for my children in a way they needed desperately. The first time I saw him again as an adult, I was drawn to the way he treated all of the children (his and mine).

Not that he’s perfect – none of us is – but at least he’s here and he’s trying. I think that’s what they see in him, what we all see in him.

Wanna hear something hilarious? Only it’s really not.

I’m not divorced. No, really, you read that right: I’m not yet divorced.

As my friend said: “This is like the marriage that WILL NOT end!”

The day of the hearing my lawyer did not have the correct permanent parenting plan submitted to the courts. This means that (1) he, again, did not do what he’s been paid to do, especially since that parenting plan was revised for the last time in JANUARY and (2) he would have to get the paperwork submitted to the courts in order for the chancellor to make a judgment regarding my proposed visitation schedule (which is no schedule for visitations). If he grants my request, that means child support would also changed as it’s based on the number of days allotted to each parent for visitation. (Since he doesn’t visit anyway when he’s more than welcome – and even asked and invited – to, why give him certain days and weeks for visitation, thus lowering his financial obligations to the children?)

On June 23 my lawyer told the chancellor and I that he would get the paperwork submitted as soon as possible. The chancellor granted an absolute divorce based on the grounds of inappropriate marital conduct. When my lawyer joined my dad and I in the lobby after his other client was divorced, I asked him flat-out, “I’m divorced, right?”

He stuttered, but said yes. I was divorced. And I was thrilled.

Wednesday morning I had a meeting in the court complex, as I do every week, and decided to stop by and ask the chancery court clerk if any decision had been made. And one hasn’t. That paperwork that was supposed to be submitted ASAP? Has not been submitted.

I jokingly asked, “So I guess I’m really not divorced then, right?” Ha ha. “If I wanted to get married today, I couldn’t?!”

“Nope, you’re not.” She launches into legal explanations and I hear something about a final decree and why there was none. Basically: my lawyer is a douche bag (see definition 5). (Sorry for the language Grannie, but that’s putting it nicely. I have more colorful words, but I’ll keep those to myself.)

I really think there is some sort of conspiracy involving my lawyer, my husband (oh my hell, I hate saying that again) and … well, the entire world. It’s like in the movies – I just cannot kill this marriage and bury it, it keeps coming back from the end, taunting me. “Ha ha! You aren’t divorced!”

It’s really frustrating. I didn’t know that vowing to love him ’til death do we part’ was going to be taken so seriously. (I mean, really, vows are actually taken seriously these days?)

And I haven’t told him yet. That he’s still my husband. And I’m still his wife.

Maybe by the time our sixth anniversary rolls around next May we’ll have resolved this. Because the only other thing I can think of is getting back together with him. Why not? He got the seven-year itch at year one … it should be smooth sailing from here on out, right?

Hanson told me last week that my life is like a soap opera. I’m beginning to think he’s right.

Five years, one month and one day ago I became someone’s wife. At the time we entered into that spiritual and legal contract that bound our hearts and souls together, we didn’t understand the full scope of what we were doing.

Like many brides-to-be, I planned a wedding, not a marriage. I bought an expensive dress and made favors. I chose flowers and colors and a location. I carefully chose the wording for our invitations, printed them and mailed them off. I registered for plenty of gifts. I counted down the days, packed boxes, finished up my last semester at community college and discovered two lines on a pregnancy test. Somewhere in the process of getting engaged and having a baby and getting married, we lost what was really important. And we never really found it.

It’s true that we never had a fairy tale relationship. Or maybe it was a fairy tale in the scope that it wasn’t a real relationship. It did not represent reality, the real world, but rather a nightmare of a union that should have ended long before it ever began.

Two years and nine months ago, that nightmare became even more of a gruesome reality. I would be lying if I said I didn’t see it coming, because I always did and always could. He left dramatically after an argument, one that is and was petty and one that I would have forgotten had it not meant the end of our marriage. I didn’t know that that was the moment in which it would all end, but if I had, I would have lingered at the door a little longer, begged him a little more to stay. I thought he’d go away and come back.

But he didn’t. And suddenly I was alone with two small children with another on the way.

My memories sometimes remind me of a time warp – it seems like yesterday, like there is no possible way that nearly three years have gone by since we lived together as husband and wife, but at the same time it seems like so long ago. I was a different person then; I had no self-respect and no self-esteem. I was hopelessly devoted to him and so hopelessly seeking his attention that I put up with being disrespected. I believed him when he said that no one would love me. I believed every word he said and let him tear down my self-worth with every insult tossed my way, every glass he threw, every plate he broke and every time he pushed me over an end table or out of a chair.

But that girl, that girl that didn’t believe in herself enough to get out, is gone.

I didn’t want to get divorced. I didn’t want out of the relationship. In my heart of hearts I knew we had not tried hard enough. I knew we had not been honest enough with each other. I knew that I had not given this marriage my best effort. I knew that there were things I could have and should have changed, but I didn’t believe it would make a difference. Neither did he, apparently. Because he did want to get divorced. He did want out of the relationship. And he did believe that we’d tried hard enough, and that it just wouldn’t be enough.

Two years and four months ago, when I was 36 weeks pregnant with the now two-year-old calling me “Echo” from the other couch, the kids and I moved away. We left South Carolina, left him and left our old lives behind. Our whole world changed.

I didn’t want to move, if I can be at all honest. I wanted to be there just in case he changed his mind, just in case he wanted to see his children more often. I was – and am – stubborn. I wanted to do it myself, to get a job and raise my children without outside help. But I just couldn’t do it. I fought the move kicking and screaming, but thankfully my family was there to drag me to Tipton County.

Back in those days I often said, “But if I do that, HE WINS!” It was all about keeping score, and he always won in my book. Of course I heard, “No, really, he’s LOSING …” but I didn’t want to hear that. He was getting what he wanted. He wanted out of the relationship. He wanted to be single. He wanted to act like a single man without a family. He got all of that. He won.

When we were married on that dock more than five years ago, peacocks squawked as we were announced husband and wife. I know I heard those peacocks again this morning as a chancery court judge absolved our union, completely and absolutely.

A year ago, I couldn’t understand the excitement surrounding a divorce, but today I understood.

This divorce was too many years and too many tears in the making. On the walk up to the courthouse, a building I visit several times each week for cases in which I am neither the plaintiff nor the defendant, I was willing myself not to cry in the courtroom, in front of other husbands and wives who’d decided to end their marriages, too. There was no need, I told myself. I have fought fair and dignified; I did not stoop to embarrassing lows or seek revenge. And I am proud of myself. I have rebuilt my life, amazingly, and I am happier than ever. These are not reasons to cry.

But I did cry this afternoon. The weight of it all. The enormity of the situation. The length of time it’s taken to get to that podium, that witness stand, to hear that I was being granted an absolute divorce when he had fought it.

I’d finally won.

Winning means closing this nine-year chapter in my life, ending the “Starting Over” category on this blog and continuing to move forward.

Thirteen hours ago I became someone’s ex-wife. There were no dresses, favors or flowers to choose. No invitations to print. No gift registries to complete. (And no pregnancy tests, either, by the way!) But I planned for this. I counted down the days. I understood the full scope of what I was doing. My dad walked me down the aisle five years ago, and he was there today to walk me back the other way.

Borrowing from Ol’ Blue Eyes:
I faced it all and I stood tall;
And did it my way.

It’s been a long time coming, but I did it. I really did it. I’m finally divorced. And I couldn’t be happier.

From this weekend:

- Potty training sucks. We all know that. But it’s suckier when you’re a working mom, I think. When I was potty training the older two, I let them run around naked or in underwear and put the potty in the living room in an attempt to lessen the chance for accidents (ha, doesn’t work). But now, with commuting an hour a day and needing to ensure no accidents in the car and having things to do after work, I have to put her in Pull-Ups at times. She wear underwear during the day and has been doing really, really well – no accidents during the day. It’s just at night or on the way home that she has accidents. As far as overnights go, she’s doing pretty well there. Sometimes she wakes up dry, sometimes she doesn’t. And I have to pretend to call her teacher to get her to sit and stay on the potty sometimes. (How’s that for undermining my own authority? Ha.) Yes, potty training sucks. But changing diapers sucks more. I’ve done it every day (but eight) for the past six years. I do not know what I’ll do when I no longer have to change diapers. lol. I might go crazy, seriously. Maybe it’s time for another kid? (JUST KIDDING! REALLY!!)

- Asking kids to do something they don’t want to do is like torture. For both of us. I’m sitting in a chair in their room blogging while they clean their room. We have been at this since 10 a.m. YESTERDAY. OMG. I seriously might die from frustration here. (And yes, this is where my mom will lecture me and tell me she knows where they get it and blah, blah, blah. Thank you, but that is not productive.) I bribed them with money, with fireworks, with swimming, with Sonic … a wide variety of things. I’ve tried to make a friendly competition (me against them – I was cleaning the bathroom vs. them cleaning their sections) and that didn’t work, either. And when Jenna is up? Ha. Yeah, good luck with trying to get ANYTHING done. I have to watch all three like hawks (Jenna has been getting into nail polish and painting things like the carpet (how do I get that out, btw?), the step stool and her whole entire body with pink glitter nail polish) – Jenna to make sure she doesn’t get into anything and the other two to make sure they’re cleaning – and so the most I can do is fold clothes or something. And then once that’s done, Jenna rolls all over my piles and Jaylen cries about putting his clothes away.

I think the men in white coats are coming? Do you hear their footsteps? Me, too.

- I really, really want a chili cheese dog right now. Thank you, Food Network.

- We have way too many clothes and way too many toys. Will be donating almost half of what we have, I believe. Actually, we may consign them. I don’t know. I really don’t have the time or patience to inventory and tag all of this crap, which is why I never eBay anything anymore.

- Jaiden likes to do laundry. She is SO not my child.

- Speaking of Jaiden, since her birthday is Friday, today was her Sunday to be blessed and prayed for at church (we do it for birthdays and anniversaries). She was so proud to say she was six and was so delighted that after the service people were coming to her and wishing her a ‘happy birthday’. I can’t believe she’s going to be SIX already. That’s more fingers than one hand can hold. And now she’s closer to double digits than she is to infancy. How do I feel about this? The same as I do every other year: a little sad, but a little excited. And a little old. I was 21 when I had her – can’t believe I now have a first-grader who has lost two (three, really) teeth and is, as we speak, trying to write her name in cursive. After church today she begged me to take her picture, so I did. She pretty much posed herself and told ME how it was going to go down. lol. Well okay then …

- Jaylen was sick today. I first knew this when I woke up and he was asleep next to me on the floor. The boy hates to sleep, and will not usually go back to sleep. He was running a fever and must have a slight cold or something. I kept him home from church today.

- Jenna thinks the nursery is someone’s house. It almost looks that way, though it’s not. She usually cries every Sunday when I hand her off to the nursery worker, but this week I have been working with her and got her excited to go to “Ms. Diane’s house,” only Ms. Diane wasn’t there today and we didn’t have nursery. lol. Fun.

- I love, love, love “Tori & Dean, Home Sweet Hollywood.” It was my first time watching them and I like them. I also watched other chick shows and movies – Bend it Like Beckham (love), Pride and Prejudice and About a Boy.

- Took the kids to see Kung Fu Panda on Friday night. Jenna was a HELLION. Well, sorta. She would NOT sit still. Normally she will if she has popcorn and a drink, but she was not having it Friday. She wanted to eat the candy the other two kids had. She wanted to sit in the seats in front of us. She wanted to talk REALLY LOUD. She yelled, “NENNA HAVE GO POOP! NENNA HAVE GO POTTY!” really loud during a quiet part. Embarrassing! I guy I used to date was there with his wife and son (he and his wife were divorcing at the time we dated, but have since reconciled) and so it was almost all the more embarrassing. lol. His son was quiet (he’s five and knows how to act, though, Jenna’s only two).

- Tomorrow is my divorce hearing. After six years of being cheated on, two-and-a-half years of being separated, one year after filing, $1300 and one black eye, my day has finally, finally arrived. I never thought I’d get divorced, especially here lately. But the time has finally come. I don’t know whether it will be final tomorrow or not, when I have been in Chancery Court, the plaintiff has walked away divorced. I’m hopeful that it ends up that way, but there have been many snags in this process for me, so we’ll see what happens. I’m hoping tonight is my last night as a married woman. A girl can only dream, right?

- This will be a busy week – divorce hearing, a sixth birthday and a Pre-K screening for Jaylen. Plus normal stuff, like an evening meeting tomorrow. And I need someone to watch my children. But all of my normal baby watchers are out of commission for tomorrow. ALL of them. (We’re talking about four different people here.) Loveliness, right? lol. Such is life.

- It’s now bedtime and the room is still a disaster area. You can like see the carpet now and you might not kill yourself when you walk from one end to the other (though that is still entirely possible), but guess what will be going on all week now? Yeah. Cleaning. I was really hoping that this could be wrapped by now, but no such luck. We’re supposed to have two other six-year-olds spent the night Friday.

Okay. Now I have to write to make up for the time I will not be in the office in the morning. Hopefully the next time you’ll hear from me, I’ll be a “Miss” instead of a “Mrs.” Ha. I’ll update Twitter first, probably. You can check my sidebar (over there to the right, under Twitter Updates) or my Twitter profile itself. See ya later!

The day I have been waiting for has finally arrived. And so has the day I’ve been dreading for six years. (Okay, been dreading both for about six years or so, but whatever.)

So first the dread.

In the car this morning Jaiden asked me how babies get inside a mommy’s tummy. OH NO. I was NOT ready for that one! Luckily (for me) we were close to their school, so I told her we’d talk about it later. She has not brought it up, though, and I don’t know whether I want to. I know I should be a good mom and answer her questions, but I’m not ready to answer that. I don’t know how I’m even going to attempt to answer that one. Don’t we get a few more years for this one? Goodness. What am I going to do! lol. She also asked me how to spell broccoli; I think I can handle that one.

And now the excitement. (Yay!)

The day I have been waiting for will arrive soon. I just found out about an hour and a half ago, but Monday will be my divorce hearing! Pardon me if I don’t stifle the giddiness, but I am SO excited! I have been going through with this nonsense for a long time; he left me the first time in March 2005 and the second – and last – time in Sept. 2005. I filed for child support in May 2006 (and just started getting it in March of this year). I filed for divorce in July 2007 after finally getting extra money. It’s been a long, exhausting process and I am so ready for it to be over with! This could be the last Tuesday I’m ever married to him. Ha. (I so want to use exclamation points EVERYWHERE, but I know that’s a bit of overkill!)

I have to bring a witness with me and this person has to be able to testify that he left me, he’s not been around and whatever else he decides to ask. My mom was supposed to come, but she will be out of town until the 27th. My lawyer said Darin could do it (and our relationship wouldn’t be brought up; we’re no longer dating, by the way), but he will also be out of town until the 27th. So I asked Tyrel and Katie, and they are going to be out of town as well. lol. Gee. No one is willing to cancel their trips to help me FINALLY get divorced? Ha. I’m kidding. (I know the world doesn’t revolve around me, but it needs to on this day.) I asked my dad if he’d go – and that was kind of like having to ask him to buy me a pack of tampons or sit in on a pelvic exam or something – and thankfully he’ll go and answer whatever he can.

Holy wow, this could actually HAPPEN. Please tell me it’s not a dream.

ANYWAY. That aside, more excitement!

I downloaded the new Firefox 3 today. Ha, just kidding. (I mean, I did download that, but it’s not what is exciting.)

Jaiden’s sixth birthday is coming up at the end of next week! We’ll be having her birthday party next weekend and my brother has arranged for an ice cream truck, “Brain Freeze”, that was tricked out by CMT’s Trick My Truck to come. (Their other truck happened to be broken down in front of the place in which my sister-in-law works and Tyrel was also there by chance, so he helped them fix it or whatever, so they are doing this as a favor. I am SO not made of money. lol.) The kids will get to tour the truck and pick out their own ice cream, which I’m sure they will love. So we’re going to play off of that and do an ice cream/pool party theme, which should be easy to pull off and easy on the pocketbook (she originally wanted to have it at the children’s museum or Chuck E. Cheese, but I can’t afford to take everyone there again). Don’t you just love planning birthday parties? Ha. I need to come up with some original games/party favors. On Friday night, her actual birthday, we’ve asked two of her friends to spend the night, so we’ll be doing a sleepover too (her first). So much fun to be six, I tell ya. lol.

Remember how last week I gave myself a black eye at parenting class? Still have it. It’s almost gone and I can at least play it off and match my left eye to the right with makeup. Thankfully. lol. I always find some way to embarrass myself! On Sunday I wore a new dress to church. It’s made out of a silk-like fabric and is really pretty – black with silver polka dots. Anyway. So after church, the kids and I took a father’s day card to Darin and he noticed one of my seams had ripped. IN THE BACK. Someone at church told me I looked attractive and maybe it was because he saw five inches of my underwear during communion? I don’t know! I have no idea how long it was there. This morning I sewed it up and wore the dress to work. Justin (from Channel 5) and I (along with a Channel 5 intern) went through Arkansas to an island that is actually part of my (our, I guess, since Justin lives here too) county which can only be accessed by land via Arkansas (don’t ask – the crazy Mississippi River screwed it up some time ago). Our sheriff’s dept. opened a new substation over there and the grand opening was attended by almost all seven of the island’s residents (yes, seven) as well as all kinds of people like our DA, the sheriff for the county adjacent to our islands and his deputies, game wardens, etc. And guess whose seam did not hold? Yeah. But thankfully I had the foresight to bring a pair of gaucho pants that matched and so I put those on and tucked the dress in. I hate this dress now. Too bad it’s so cute. Hopefully my mom can fix it for good when she gets back. I do not need to be embarrassing myself anymore. lol.

There used to be this commercial with a guy in business attire, running around singing, “Boooooooorn freeeeeee!” Remember that? That’s how I feel tonight. Freedom! At last! On Monday and Tuesday nights I had city board meetings to go to because two of the towns I was covering were raising taxes – one by 44 cents and the other by 10 cents. The first town had a lot of angry residents begging for not so large an increase. The second town had people asking if 10 cents was enough – told them to go to 15 cents if they felt it was needed. lol. Crazy folks. Don’t ASK for more taxes, knuckleheads.

But tonight there are no meetings for me to attend. There’s no soccer practice. The kids are in bed and, I think, finally asleep. So now it’s just me, Private Practice, The Fashionista Diaries, Y&R and um … bed, then, I guess. I have my column and this week’s business story to write up, but that won’t take long. Or shouldn’t. Tomorrow Jaiden’s supposed to have soccer practice, but it’s stormed pretty good today and I know the crop fields and ditches are flooded, so who knows whether she will or not.

I can’t believe it’s already almost October. That’s wild. This weekend will mark two years since Bryan and I separated. Is that not crazy? Two years. It doesn’t seem anywhere near possible, but it’s true. I guess. It’s funny how I was dragged into being a single mom, kicking and screaming, and now it’s been a couple of years and I am so much better off than I thought I would be. Sure I live with my parents, but there are worst things. Like living on the streets and not being able to buy food and things like that. I just hope that by the time September 2008 rolls around I am out on my own. Hopefully that money tree starts blooming soon. But yay for me anyway.

I’m anxiously awaiting next Thursday, when I leave for Virginia. Only a week to go!