Since my last hiatus of blog deprivation, I have learned several more things:
- moving sucks
- moving twice in two months sucks more
- the Brady Bunch made it look easy
After a long awaited commitment from Mr. Grey, we finally took the plunge (or rather, he finally did) and decided to be in a real relationship.
Google defines this simple definition of relationship as: the way in which two or more people, groups, countries, etc., talk to, behave toward, and deal with each other; a romantic or sexual friendship between two people; the way in which two or more people are connected.
Well, thank you google for blurring the infamous lines further. What I am understanding from this is, polygamy and open relationships are welcomed. Awesome…glad I fought so hard for my monogamous bundle of chaos.
In June 2015, Mr. Grey began to understand that his home base was not so temporary. With his toothbrush came some of his clothes, some of his books, some of his sneakers (all 45 pairs) and his hats. He stopped spending time at his parents, other than the weekends he had his two children, and shacked up with me in unbridled fashion. By the end of August (after vacationing with his entire family…which was amazing), he sold his house and moved in his furniture. We threw him a 35th birthday party in my backyard with all of his friends and family and for once my introduction as girlfriend was not done so just because it was easier…rather he believed it too.
By September we were discussing the upcoming holidays and how we were going to try to blend our children more. In typical Elle fashion, that turned in to a nightmare because his ex-wife is not so fond of me..and unfortunately, this translated in to her oldest son despising myself and my daughter. Which is totally fair when you live down on Grandpa’s farm somewhere in between the Red States, but up North where stores other than Wal-Mart exist, this is unacceptable and intolerable. Yet, despite past history of verbally annihilating people who try to destroy me, I let her do what she wanted to me. Not because I was waiving the white flag or admitting defeat, but because eventually…just eventually…she would fuck up so poorly that she’d need me. And then the games would begin.
After Mr. Grey tried his best to keep the situation between everyone neutral, the holidays came and went and in between there were lots of laughs, tears, and elements of dysfunction…not so much with ourselves, but with him and his ex. I guess with my ex too…but we just ignore him.
Also, somewhere in between…Mr. Grey had the opportunity of a lifetime. He had the chance for his two little boys to live with him after his ex failed on an epic level. She decided to move out of her parents’ house and in to her own apartment, outside the school district where her children were attending. Enter me. A clinical social worker with a degree in “I will find the loop hole in just about anything.” Enter Mr. Grey…a now more than part-time father and a house filled with children. Oops Ms. Ex…guess you didn’t realize not only could I get you out of this mess, but preserve your children’s emotional well-being by keeping them in district AND reward Mr. Grey with the best thing anyone could do for him.
Being the resourceful person that I am, I outreached the district, advocated on behalf of the oldest child, asked what paperwork needed to be completed to keep him in district, requested permission for him to remain in district despite living in the next town over for the six week lapse we had before moving in to our apartment (yes OUR….details to come) on March 1, and then what time they wanted me to come pick up my trophy for girlfriend of the year. The stipulations for Mr. Grey was that he had to have Ms. Ex sign an affidavit granting him custody from Sunday through Thursday each week school is in session until the end of June.
Enter defeat.
Enter perseverance.
Game. On.
In addition to my girlfriend of the year award, I also picked up my Ms. Determination award…after successfully speaking with Ms. Ex, outlining all the reasons why if she decided against this she would fail her children and cause them emotional and social duress.
High fives all around.
So, now, Mr. Grey happily spends time with his children for 60% of the seven day week.
Side note: when we first met, the very first conversations we had included him sharing his regret for not being able to be there more for his children. While I honestly refuse to take any credit for successfully making this transaction happen…as anyone in my position would have done the same thing….I can say that I have never been more happier at one of my accomplishments.
And on that note…I am going to go vomit up kittens and butterflies and everything pure.
P.S. – prepare yourself for next time on blog city…where the main character recounts her hatred for her downstairs tenants…only to find a second 3-bedroom apartment in the same part of town for slightly more money…but who can really put a price on quiet and no gang member affiliation?