Today, I received an email from my girlfriend, who also has
twins. In response to reading all of my
tales, she said:
“That is
great that you have captured all the moments!
I tell my sister birth to age three of the twins’ lives is a blur. She will be like, don't you remember this or
that that mom did or said. And I am
like, no....”
If I never took the few photos that I had or wrote down my mini-
memoirs; I know for a fact that I never would have remembered a
thing. My life was a blur — a soulful
painful blur. If it were not for my
Julie’s & my Dena, I would never have made it through.
Living with Multiples & More has really taken a toll on my noggin
and nights. I was literally thumbing
through the recorded television episodes on “My DVR” the other day, and found
myself asking, “What is ‘Unforgettable’?”
My son answered (with that “you blonde” tone), “It means when you can’t forget something. You know, like your favorite song!?!”
And later that evening, I found ME and MADNESS to be the subject
of his facebook… again.
The awkward moment where i have to tell my
mom what unforgetable means. who had a bad day?
Wednesday at
8:00pm near Venice
And I was found to be the blunt-of-the-joke the next day at
school, too.
O! Life has been good to
me. I beat the odds of the Double-Trouble
Divorce (families with multiple births) where the spilt occurs when the
children are between the ages of one and five years, and is 5 to 10% higher
than the other divorces in the United States.
Wahoo! We made it almost
twenty-five years. And when it was over,
it was oVer.
I was:
brow ∞ beaten,
kicked to the curb,
put in a dumpster,
finding funds infuriating,
discovered that divorced-parenting is devastating,
when planning a split from your spouse
(prepare in advance like some people do)
make a move to ESunny FloridaE,
and evacuated from evil.
And, quite frankly,
I have never been happier in my life.
I am undiscovered; I do write well. I was trained to. (And the sarcasm in me cannot but help to
defy the prescriptive preposition at the end of the sentence rule. Yes, that was a purposeful linguistic mistake.) I’m sure all of my English professors would
have been in an upheaval to read that, but Erma Bombeck would have loved
it. She understood life, like: “If Life is a Bowl of Cherries
What Am I Doing in the Pits?”
I told my ex before we got married that I was a scholar, not a
maid, and I meant it. I couldn’t keep up it
with it all. I was and am a good mother,
and I was a good wife.
In life, there are problems.
My world is wild with the unconformities to rules and their
regulations. If my willingness to openly
display my wit in pictures & prose can benefit those who blunder daily in
depression or think that they are the only one in a pickle and can’t seem to
crawl out of the jar, THEY ARE NOT ALONE.
Come on, for years, I had to remove
the lamps off of my end tables in the living room for fear of fracture if I
turned my back. If it wasn’t gated, it
was duct taped.
If I wasn’t
in hell,
I took my
kids to Hell,
(like to Hell, Michigan on 6-6-6)
so they’’d
know the true value of virtue.
Yes, I may be “slightly on the warped side.” (Check out my blog “E is for: The End the Tail End”.) I know I’m not perfect, but neither is
life.
We Need to Laugh at Ourselves
&
We Need to Let Go!
So I’m sharing “The ABC’s of Double-Trouble” as a
non-conforming way to express the great creative treasures of life, no matter
how enormously inconsequential and primitively painstaking they seem at the
time.
© Copyright 1976-2011 Leslie D. Zenoni dba Coloured Pencils
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