I didn’t break up with TB rashly, nor did I do it without reason.  I don’t regret my decision for a moment, but in the past week I’ve found that it’s terribly hard to love someone and know that you have to let them go.  The idea that men and women can be friends after a breakup might be true for some, but I think that takes time and a very mature attitude on both parts.

The principal thanked me for taking the time to come and interview.  He said I had been a finalist for the position and that the interview team had appreciated my candor and honesty.  He wished me luck and success in my search for a full -time position but informed me that another candidate had been selected for the full-time Kindergarten position.  

He wasn’t back in my presence for five minutes and we were teasing and laughing and cracking jokes at each other.  

As full as my heart is to have him to hold and hug and love and laugh with, I realized as he spoke to his father how difficult it is to be the child of divorce.  “Hey, Dad, I just called to tell you I’m home.  Yeah, it is great to be back.  Not that it wasn’t great being with you, too…”

Today, with heartfelt gratitude, I will return this beautiful laptop to my dad. I cannot begin to put into words what his gift of lending this to me for the summer has meant. More than any monetary gift, more than any other kindness, this truly showed me my dad cares about me. He recognized a need, but did not insult my independent spirit, he did not overstep his role as father, he did not make the effort to impress me or to win my favor, he simply saw a need and knew he had a short-term solution that would help. And it did.

I accepted his offer only because I wanted to put together my teaching portfolio this summer. In a perhaps optimistic spirit that I might get an interview, I wanted to have presentation materials ready and on-hand should I get a call. I certainly could have just visited my sister and used her computer if I had received an invitation to interview, but Dad’s generosity allowed me to work at my own creative pace. Putzing with pages. Putting it aside and revising it days, weeks, later.

I do not find it at all ironic that tomorrow, the day after I return this computer to Dad, I have two interviews. With two districts. For two different full-time teaching positions. I do not know that I will be granted either one. But I do know that I will go confidently to the interview, knowing that I have put together a portfolio that reflects my teaching as well as my personality.

And I will know that it was my dad’s thoughtfulness that made that possible.

Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.

When you try to defy your age by challenging your 7 year old nephew to a game of golf on the XBox360, even if you kick his butt, you will still prove you’re too old to play when you have to put on your glasses to read the information on the screen about your golf statistics (and even then you can’t read it all).

When you take your niece shopping for new school clothes, after handing her no less than thirty pairs of jeans of various sizes and styles, you will find yourself cursing the sizing discrepancies from brand to brand and complaining about how they ride too low, or are way too long, or there is just no reason for a 12 year old’s jeans to cost $40, only to find yourself sounding exactly.like.your.parents 25 years ago.

If you tag along for school supply shopping and find yourself explaining with passion to this same niece that it is the FOLDERS that are the most exciting part of new school supplies and choosing them is an activity that should not be taken lightly. When you find your voice getting slightly too animated, with a bit too much enthusiasm as you explain the lengthy process you used to go through each and every year of carefully selecting your new supplies and agonizing over just exactly how you wanted to organize yourself for classes, she will, in fact, roll her eyes and give you that look that reminds you she doesn’t believe folders were even invented when you went to school.

While waiting on your lunch order at the Food Court, you actually take notice that every.single.person behind the counter was probably born after you graduated from high school. Not only that, but they all have two things you would never have dreamed of in high school, namely, either a) a visible piercing in a location other than their ears or b) hair color that is far from natural.

You actually catch yourself saying, “just because all your friends have cell phones doesn’t mean you need one.”

When you make an attempt to recreate a lesson plan you taught during your student teaching days and realize that in order to find the resources you need, you’re using a technological advancement (the internet) that wasn’t available when you taught the lesson in the first place.

Realizing for the first time that your sister has wrinkles under her eyes (sorry, Jules) and looking in the mirror and realizing you do, too.

When you’ve watched 400 of the 500 laps of the NASCAR race at Bristol only to go to bed before the finish because it’s 11:00 and you have church in the morning.

to let go. To give him time to sort out his life. To give him a chance to figure out who he is now without her influence, without mine. To allow all of them to settle into their new lives.

As much as I enjoyed being with TB and as much as I loved the Rentals, his divorce was an ongoing, everyday drama. I didn’t have a right to help make those decisions, nor should he give any consideration to anything but himself and the kids for each and every decision he needs to make. He has to move. He needs to downsize. He has a budget to re-work, child care to establish, ongoing tension with his ex-wife. I am a further complication to them all.

And it was a challenge for me in my independent life, to respond to a family that all needs love, reassurance and stability 24/7. They deserve it. They crave it. They need it. But I’m so used to my space, my own time. I haven’t been needed like that in years. While flattering and reassuring, I was exhausted. I was drained. I felt their desire to be together all the time and I struggled to balance that with my own needs for personal space.

But I learned a lot. I learned that while I am long since past my marriage, that while I long ago dealt with the issues therein, I was not prepared to deal with a sensitive, passive, permissive man without perceiving him as weak. I had to remember at times that passivity can just be an effort to appease and impress. But it was hard. Maybe it was too hard for me. My passive, kindhearted, sensitive, permissive ex-husband turned out to be gay. It was difficult for me to look at a new situation and expect a different outcome.

I know TB’s not happy with my decision. I know he thinks the divorce drama will be over sooner rather than later and that my involvement with the kids was a blessing not a complication. But I’ve been down that road. I’ve been in his shoes. I think in six months, in a year, he’ll be able to look back and say, “I wasn’t ready, I needed time.” Or maybe I’ll be wrong. Maybe despite all the distractions, challenges and obstacles, despite all the changes, disruptions and discouragement, maybe he’s got it all together and is truly ready for a relationship right now. I’ve been wrong before.

Maybe it’s me that needs time to adjust. Maybe I’m just ill-prepared to get involved at this stage in his life. Maybe it just wasn’t right for me. In any case, I had a great time this summer getting to know someone new, letting someone get to know me and allowing my heart to open up to littles. I wish The Boy and The Rentals all the best. They will all remain in my prayers. My time spent with each of them was truly a blessing.

(Do note the penguin on the top shelf. He has been faithfully turning the light on and off in my fridge for years. Most dependable penguin I’ve ever met.)

The freezer. Frozen broccoli anyone?

I headed to the store. Not the one around the corner that I usually shop at. Not the one I have walked to all summer with ONE reusable bag on my shoulder and $15 in my pocket. No, no, I went to the BIG store. And I took FOUR reusable bags with me this time.

Ahhh, a stocked freezer. Meat, cheese and veggies. I can sleep at night now.

From a half gallon of milk to two full gallons that he’ll consume within 10 days of his arrival. Veggies, fruit, salad, lunch meat….we might make it through next week before he asks me “what’s there to eat?”

When I opened the crisper to put in potatoes, cucumbers, carrots and green pepper it actually said, “I thought you had forgotten about me.” Guess I haven’t had a need for the crisper drawer all summer. Poor neglected thing. I hope the penguin has been keeping it company.

*I was talking with LM this afternoon and told him I didn’t think he could come home. “Why?” he inquired. “Well, LM, you see, I went to the grocery store today…” “Oh heavens” was his understanding reply. “LM, I just don’t think I can afford for you to come home.” “Mom? Let me ask you this. Which will cost you more, the grocery bills when I come home, or the therapy bills if I don’t?”

Touche, LM, touche.

I think it’s safe to say the Rentals have won a place in my heart. I stopped by Blockbuster today with crossed fingers and whispering a prayer that they weren’t sold out 3 hours after the store had opened for the day.

You see, tomorrow evening, I’m watching the Rentals while TB has a long overdue night out with the boys. And me? Being the most awesome babysitter in the land? I rented the latest Hannah Montana movie.

I must be sick in the head.

Or in love with these kids.

You decide. I’m too busy trying to track down 3D glasses.

A woman approached TB and me as were waiting in the church narthex for his family to arrive. She shook TB’s hand and then looked at me quizzically. She held out her hand and introduced herself as Karen. I shook her hand and said, “Nice to meet you, Karen. I’m Eliza Jane”. She said, “Eliza. I’ve known your husband for quite some time but I don’t believe we’ve ever met. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

I wanted to ask if she might point my husband out to me as I’m not certain I’ve met him just yet, but I had to help TB stifle his laugh.