It’s August 1st again

It’s August 1st.  I should just slit my wrists and call it a day.  I kid.  I don’t like the sight of blood. Or the thought of death.  But I still hate August 1st.

First of all, my first-born son turns seventeen today.  What?  Will someone please explain to me how this happened?  Wasn’t it just yesterday that he was a baby that loved his mamma?  For some reason, seventeen is really, really bothering me.  More than “Sweet 16” bothered me, and I sent him on his way in a car…potential death on wheels.  I can’t explain why, but seventeen just seems much closer to adulthood and independence and LEAVING HOME.  Oh sure, there are days when I wonder if it’s too soon to start packing his bags for college, but today, my friends, is not that day.

Another reason I’m not a fan of this day is that it is the anniversary of D-Day.  How many years have I been divorced now?  Geez, six years?  Wow.  Time really is flying. This is probably the first one where I really don’t care all that much about it.  There is some significant progress going on over here.  I don’t really care to talk to him, though, so I am avoiding his phone call.

And yes, he has tried to call me.  Apparently, our seventeen-year-old told him that he does not want to go on an overnight trip to float on the river.  The Ex even offered to bring along his girlfriend.  Of course, my initial reaction was, “So you get to have a sleepover with your girlfriend at the river?”  I decided, however, to pick my battles.  To wait and see how things played out.  You know, since that’s what a therapist told me to do.  No sense in panicking until there was a definite plan.  Dang, those therapist people are smart.  It appears that LoverBoy decided against the trip all on his own.  His reasons were a bit different – it’s his girlfriend’s last weekend in town before she heads out for Aggieland and he doesn’t want to take her away from her family or take his attention off of her in any way.

I think The Ex is calling to vent.  I’ve already had the conversation in my head…accusations that I have tainted the kids against him, declarations that he needs to put his foot down on this relationship thing since it’s ruling LoverBoy’s life, and some whining about how LoverBoy drag it out and didn’t tell him no right away and how disrespectful he is.  See?  There’s really no reason to call him back.  I already know what he’s going to say because I have heard it ad nauseam for SIX YEARS.

This year, August 1st has taken its pain-in-my-ass status to a whole new level.  LoverBoy has made plans to celebrate his day with his girlfriend, I get to spend all day going to the doctor and having lab work done for some issues (I won’t go into detail because TMI), and tonight I get to work because we are having a gospel concert.  I know, I should probably attend the concert for some inspiration.  I won’t, though.  I know me.

I’m just going to pout until August 2nd.  Then I will celebrate a seventeenth birthday with the best kid in the world!


  1. I feel you – on so many levels. Hope the tests turn out well and that you are okay. Repeat after me – “there is nothing he could possibly say to you that would make answering the phone necessary.” Don’t do it. Don’t do it!!!!
    If the girlfriend is off to Aggieland, odds are pretty good that this will be his last birthday celebration with her… just an observation. He will come around and you can be thankful that he’s healthy and wants to go to college and is sometimes that great young man you knew a few years ago – and sometimes lets YOU see that 🙂

  2. Wait until it’s MonoBoy’s 18th birthday and you realize that you are going to be “home alone”. That’s what my daughter went through today as her youngest celebrates her 18th and is off to college soon. My daughter said she stood in the card aisle and just sobbed, looking through the birthday cards. I looked at her and said, “I know exactly what you mean,” inferring I had gone through it when SHE went off to college. The next year, with him being a senior and all that goes with that last year of high school–I think this won’t be the last time you get chocked up. Hope your tests are all okay!

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