Excuse me while I think out loud here.

I realized how much simpler the decision making process is when I make my decisions based on my kids.  Move to North Carolina?  Sure.  Oh, now we're going back to Chicago.  Let me think about this for a moment... um, okay.

The difference between now and then is back then I didn't have anything going on other than mommyhood.  Now I have a photography business that is starting to take off.  A gig at the gym.  Girlfriends who love to sit around and drink wine and gossip.

Yet, I was willing to give up all of that just so the kids could grow up near their Dad.

However, I am starting to get those red flags.  Saying things to me like, "GOSH I wish I had control of my life." in reference to his difficulty in making decisions because he has children to worry about, as though it suddenly occurred to him that he was a dad and had responsibilities that did not just revolve around him.

And here is the real zinger:  we were planning on going through mediation next month.  Fine by me.  And it was about damn time.  But now there is all this talk about moving to Chicago and I suggested we file for divorce in Chicago.  He is insisting that we do it here.  Reason being...  he is entitled to FAR less child support.  A dismal amount really.  This was something I was willing to accept.  I'd get on my feet, which I am finally doing now, and I'd manage wonderfully and finally become more independent.

But something doesn't add up.  The cost of living in Chicago is SIGNIFICANTLY higher than it is here.  So basically he is hoping to get away with paying less while we live in a place that requires more.  Does he really think I'm that stupid??

And to add to this whole thing.  I asked that he be as supportive as possible while I get resettled YET AGAIN.   Because I am responsible for the kids full time (yes, he comes by MWF to hang out with them but none of this actually entails any thought into planning out the kids' daily activities), I will have to concentrate on getting them settled before I can figure out what the heck I'm going to do there.  I'd be starting over trying to network and finding a gym where I can teach that has a daycare that I can use and trust.  

But he only plans on paying one extra thing:  health insurance.  Oh gee, thanks.  He said he'd pay that and the child support would cover the rent.  And basically I'd have to figure out how to cover the rest.  

Typical.  Why am I surprised?  Now I am questioning what it is I'm doing, moving back to a place that I always disliked.  True there are some positive things about moving there, but these mostly benefit him and the kids.  I feel guilty even wondering, "What about ME?"  But I'm wondering that anyway.  Because I really don't know what to expect any more.

Twists and turns.

I have been living in North Carolina for over a year now.  I hated it at first, mostly because I didn't know anybody which only lead me to isolate myself even more.  Though admittedly it was nice to be in a metropolitan area, surrounded by universities and museums, movie theaters and Starbucks (or Panera if I was in the mood).

I finally decided last spring that it was time to come out of my shell and meet people.  I did what I thought was unthinkable at the time and invited myself over to someone's house to take photos of her kids.  We ended up becoming close friends.  It's nice to know that I'm one of the first people she calls when she wants to hang out.  I've never really had close girlfriends before...  well let me digress... NORMAL girlfriends before... women who don't have weird hang ups or are excessively needy.  

Then with all the things happening at the gym, I am starting to feel like I finally have my own thing going that has nothing to do with kids.  Not that I don't love my kids or relish the time I spend with them, but I feel as though I appreciate and enjoy those times even more now that I have something to call my very own.  Granted, I can't really live off of what I make as a fitness instructor, but there are certainly perks:  the obvious health benefits, free daycare, free gym membership, and of course the endless networking possibilities.  It has truly been a great way to meet new people and promote my photography.

So I think it was reasonable for me to fly off the handle when Nick called me the other day with his news:  his old boss from Chicago had been interviewing people for a VP position at the American Medical Association.  After 6 months, she hadn't found any potential candidates but she thinks he'd be a perfect fit.  Basically the job is his if he chooses to take it.  That's great for him...  given today's economy.  Not to mention, his company will probably be bought out next year.  He will either be laid off or be required to relocate to Pennsylvania.

Well, when I got over my little hissy fit (or really, not so little hissy fit, for I really did not appreciate his expectation that I'd HAVE to move where he goes because we have children together), I have given this some thought.  Moving back to Chicago certainly will have its benefits because we know people there.  However, I made it clear to him that he needs to understand how this will impact me.  Since I have the kids full time, it will be a challenge to get settled once again.  Of course it will be easier since we know people there already, therefore things like finding a new pediatrician or where the nearest Super Target is located will not be an issue.  But gosh, the thought of starting all over again.  I don't like that.  And I especially will not like it if he puts pressure on me to get my own thing going again.  I don't think he quite understands how much of a challenge that is for me - kids or no kids.

Currently I am already scheduled to teach 5 days a week starting January.  Technically I'm not suppose to be on the schedule because my certification hasn't gone through.  I signed up to train for another program called BodyFLOW in a couple of weeks, which allow me to teach more classes since the program can be taught every day, and I have already been given a Saturday mornng class starting January.  The only reason why this was made possible is because I've become close friends with the group fitness manager for all the North Carolina Lifestyle Family Fitness gyms.  Plus my availability for daytime weekday classes has made me fairly valuable (well, in addition to being physically able to actually teach these programs).

Anyway, it's all re-doable, of course.  It's just that I have been making HUGE efforts the past several months to do something with myself that I actually like doing.  So many great things have happened as a result, and I'm pretty pleased with the way things have been going.

Well, minus the romantic aspect.  Though the difference now is I no longer feel like I NEED someone.  I'm perfectly happy doing my own thing, having my own schedule, my own life.  I no longer worry about getting things done after the kids go to bed, whether it's laundry or cleaning or catching up with emails and the latest goings on via the Internet.  Life just seems more simple like this. 

Every night I go to bed with Isabella snuggled up next to me.  This reminds me of what the best things in my life are at this moment.  And life is pretty good when I let it be this uncomplicated.

Toddlerisms

Because of the different ages of my kids, there is usually a tug of war with the tv remote.  The oldest likes The Suite Life of Zach and Cody (much to my chagrin), the youngest likes Caillou.  So on the off chance we're home in the morning and the Baby asks to watch tv, it's usually a mad scramble for me to change the channel.  Because the last thing I need is for another kid to get sucked into the Disney Channel.  I don't mind the programming as much as all those darned commercials which almost always lead to an extreme case of the "I wants".

But of course, the tv remote is always missing.  And I ask the younger two if they happen to know where it is.  

"Isabella, where is the button?"

"The bunnnt?"

"Yes, the button for the tv.  That way you can watch Noggin."  

"There's the bunnt!" (Pointing to the dvd player.)

"Oh, so you call it a bunnt?  Okay... where's the bunnnt."

"No, Mommy, not a BUNNNT.  A BUNNNNT."

"Not a bunnnt?  You mean a BUTTON?"

"Yes, a BUNNNT."

I should probably teach her the correct way to say "button".  But I think I much prefer the toddler pronunciation.

Wow... what to say.

I am sitting here on my laptop, waiting for Isabella to fall asleep.  The old sleeping routine wasn't working so this is a new arrangement.  I must say that for the most part it seems to work quite well.  Although most of the time she is asleep by this time.  Actually, she was 90% there, which I was almost certain of because her little feet stopped moving around while I lay next to her in the dark.  

As luck would have it... or is it a Murphy's Law sort of thing... the doorbell rang.

You know, with today's technology you'd think that those who lack the common sense to ring my doorbell when he knows very well I'm trying to put the kids to bed would know to send an email or text message.  Or at the very least pick up the phone and CALL FIRST.

So I had to immediately jump out of bed for fear that the older two kids would awaken, likely thinking it was already the crack of dawn rather than the middle of the night.

And of course, within minutes I could hear the pitter patter of little feet, searching the dark room for mommy.  So she joined us.  Me and my middle of the night visitor.  We ate chicken noodle soup and cheese.  Or rather, I'd say Isabella and I did.  The visitor just stood at the kitchen counter eating his food, barely uttering a word.  He knows I'm a stickler about sitting down so that you can appreciate every bite eaten at a meal.  Yet, he always seems to take that same spot at the kitchen counter anyway.

At least Isabella and I had a nice meal together, giggling with every noodle she noisily slurped.  I assume it was impossible for him to appreciate that since she isn't his kid.  And then I started to wonder why on earth this asshole rang my doorbell at 10:45 p.m. if all he did was stand there, stone faced.  Barely even able to muster up a smile over the cuteness of Isabella.

So here we are, 11:21 p.m.  Me and Isabella.  My plans for a long hot shower have been postponed.  It would have to take place tomorrow, hopefully before anyone is awake.  And God help this person if he rings my door bell before I have my first cup of coffee.  Because I plan on enjoying it while sitting at the kitchen table.  Perhaps with an English muffin or slice of toast.  Relishing each and every bite. 

I have a lot to write.  Not so much to share with anyone what's been going on with me.  But just a reminder to myself of how things are at this moment in time.  The one word to describe it all:  surreal.