Remember when I wrote my "Welcome Back" post and said I still had a lot of anger and resentment toward my ex? Well, it turns out it's really hard to write a blog post without that negative baggage creeping in. I tried a week ago to write about how I love my home now that it's clutter free and minor home repairs are getting done, but it just ended up being a ginormous bitch fest about how little he did when he lived here. See, there it creeps again, like a bad vine that just won't die no matter how much weed killer you use on it.
So, instead of being a Negative Nellie, I'm going to try hard to take a different, positive train of thought and let that blossom onto the digital page in front of me.
The boys and I had a great weekend. It was truly stupendous, super awesome, and amazing. A part of our weekend was lots of time spent with my boyfriend, who's also stupendous, super awesome, and amazing. This isn't really a new relationship anymore. We've been together for over a year. We met after the separation was already underway, least anyone think there was anything untoward going on. Likewise, we didn't start dating for about 9 months after that. We've been together ever since.
No - he's doesn't live here, yet. That's on the horizon, but we're taking things slowly. He's here for dinner most nights and hangs out with us on the weekends. It's utterly amazing to me every day that he so easily and willingly pitches in. He thinks nothing of cleaning up the kitchen after dinner and even making dinner. He knows his way around a kitchen and doesn't expect me to do it all. He understands completely when I've got homework to do with the kids, laundry to fold and put away, and other chores to do. He has no problem helping. Ever. This truly blows my mind.
He's as good with a toolbox as he is with kitchen utensils and he's taught me and the boys how to do some basic, minor household repairs, like patching holes in drywall. We've gotten some things fixed around here that had been broken or in disrepair for a long, long time. The best part is, it's been a team effort. Not only have we patched walls in the hallway, but we've repainted each bedroom door and all the trim, and now my teenage son is finishing up painting the walls. It looks amazing and changes the whole tone of the house.
It's spring and when the weather gets warmer, my thoughts generally turn to what I can plant in the ground. I go on a spree of yard work, which culminates with a modest veggie garden sprouting in my backyard. Some years it's a great success, some years not so much. My amazing boyfriend jumped right on the bandwagon with me this year and built two new garden boxes, one at waist height for my lettuces and radishes. He also fixed my broken-down clothesline and built a platform for his grill. Did I mention he was handy? As I gazed at him in awe, thanking him with tears of joy, he simply said, "This wasn't anything special. It's what normal people do when they love someone." That just made me tear up even more. I'm being treated like a normal human being. There are no words for how this makes me feel.
For the first time in fourteen years, this place actually feels like home. For the first time in about twenty years I actually feel appreciated and loved. For the first time in my whole life, I actually feel like I deserve to have good things happen to me. It's a nice feeling. It's certainly one that I will never take for granted. As I look at all the flowers blooming around here, I think the weeds are no problem after all.