Well, friends -
A lot has changed since my last post. More on all that later...
I was recently informed by a tearful Mini that her dad told her just last weekend that I asked for a divorce for my birthday. His newest version of events is that he got me an egg poacher as a gift. But I didn't like it. And so I (naturally) told him I'd rather have a divorce, please.
I can't begin to tell you in words how exhausting it is to coparent with a person whose grip on reality is never very secure.
Anyway, obviously his explanation is ludicrous because I freakin' LOVE that egg poacher. No, seriously. I use it several times a week. It is almost solely responsible for the fact that my middle child (the one called Pickle for public blogging purposes) is still alive and not severely malnourished due to a very serious ailment called 'picky eating.' (Don't worry, Concerned Reader, we have a support group to help us all through it.)
And I am just now starting the process of deciding what can be said in a public forum without causing undue pain to both the innocent and the not so innocent. It's important to remember that while there ARE two sides to every story, as people are so fond of saying, sometimes one of the sides is just a piping hot pile of crap.
Input on this topic (or any other, really) welcome and encouraged.
