Wildflower Specimens

On September 5th I will be turning 35 years old. I have asked for our divorce to occur before then, so that I can start my next trip around the sun off without any lingering feelings or doubts. I keep waiting for a ''Come to Jesus'' moment, but it isn't happening. I keep waiting for someone to ''talk me down'', too, but that isn't happening either. Instead the few people I have told just say, ''Well, I am here for you'', or ''You'll be fine'', or ''I'll help you shop for your new house and we'll find cool stuff at Goodwill!''. Only one person, my best friend who is also my age and also divorced, has forewarned me about the potential nightmare to come, and that it won't be as easy as I think it is going to be.

I have decided to go with a yellow and white theme for my new kitchen. I received this pretty 
vintage apron from a friend during my ''Thanks for the Mammories'' 
party that I hosted before my mastectomy. 

My pre-cancer self would have continued to agonize over this decision for another year, analyzing everything, creating Venn diagrams depicting the pros and cons. Hello, Virgo!

But my post-cancer self has a different attitude, probably because I now realize how precious time is. Having a cancer recurrence constantly dangling overhead like an ominous cloud is another motivator.

Wait, a woven kitchen rug from India
is not an essential item? 

So I guess you could say I am getting divorced for my birthday. I was kind of hoping for some new shoes, a collection of Rumi poems, or an herbal body wrap at a spa. But I guess a divorce works, too.

I like to think of it as the bandaid approach. If it's going to happen, let's just get it over with. I first had the thought of splitting up back in November, when my husband and I went to Ikea. I thought, ''Okay, this is my domestic happy place. I will go to Ikea and envision all the things for our house that will look great and it will get me over this weird hump I am on and remind me of my domestic bliss.''

Actually, quite the opposite happened: I kept envisioning what random items would look like in my own house.

I thought the feeling would go away, that it was just a ''phase'', as my husband calls it. But it isn't a phase. In fact, the feeling only seems to intensify as more time goes on.

I am also seriously considering taking back my maiden name. Kind of ironic, since Virgo is symbolized by The Maiden, taking back my maiden name for my birthday. I have always liked my old name, especially since my Dad and brother both died, and I was very close with my grandparents. It reminds me of them, and I was the last one in my immediate family with our last name. That would mean we would need to be divorced by July, because I need to re-apply for my passport by then and also do not want to start the school year with one name, and then confuse my students and colleagues by changing it a few months later.

What to do?

My husband would like for me to keep his name, should we end up getting back together. He thinks that may happen. And maybe it will.

Or maybe I will marry someone else some day, and he will desperately want me to take his name.

Once I change my name, that's it, it is staying that name. So once I change it, I change it. That's it.

You know how when you were a teenager, you would doodle your name with your crush's last name, just to see what it would look like? Well, I find myself doing that with my maiden name. I guess that means I have a crush on myself?

On a side note, I can't believe I am going to be a 35 year old divorcee with three children.
This is not how I was expecting my life to turn out. At all.

Then again, I wasn't planning on ever living in England, or the Deep South. Or having super-weird curly hair. Or getting breast cancer.

I guess life is just full of unexpected surprises.

I will move to a new, smaller house the next town over. The town where I will be working, and where the children's school is.  I am holding out for a cute renovated farmhouse, or a cottage with a wrap-around porch and gingerbread accents, where I can add a swing bench and some outdoor pillows and hang around drinking lemonade and catching fireflies with my children and Poe as the sun sets.

I have already opened my own bank account, set up direct deposit for my paycheck, and have applied for a pre-approval for a mortgage. I have also inquired about a uncontested divorce. It takes 31 days, evidently.

I have framed a vintage poster my husband would absolutely hate called Wildflower Specimens. I am saving it for my new house. In fact, it was the first thing that I bought with my new house in mind. As it happens, I love vintage prints, and I really love wildflowers. So it's perfect for me.

In the spirit of hoarding pretty new things, I have also bought some essentials, such as pink glasses candlesticks, pink ceramic egg holders and ramekins, oven-mits, and a woven kitchen rug.

Pink glass candlesticks are essentials...aren't they? Remind me of that as I am eating my 7th peanut butter sandwich of the week, sewing the holes in the heels of my 6 year old tights, and using the little tubes of free toothpaste and floss from the dentist's office.

I am kidding. Kind of...

In any event, I feel really excited. More so than I was anticipating.

We have worked out most of the details.

We will co-parent, with the children spending 3 days with me, and 3 days with him. Sunday will remain our family day, and that will be the transition day. We will still go out and do something together, in the spirit of keeping the family unit in tact, and then the children will go off with one of us, as in ''Okay, have fun with Mommy/Daddy. See you on Wednesday!''.

Since we are co-parenting, I am not seeking child support or alimony. But since I earn significantly less than my husband, and after crunching the numbers and seeing I will be negative once I pay my bills, he has agreed to pay for the children's health insurance and 3/4 of the nanny fees. I will have $100 a week left over from my salary after I pay my bills and groceries, so it's a good thing that I eat carrots and hummus for lunch and enjoy rummaging through charity shops. Needless to say, I have a feeling my days of shopping at World Market and going out to the hibachi grill will be few and far between.

Given the choice, I would much rather experience mild financial discomfort than significant emotional discomfort.

Besides, if I can survive breast cancer, I can survive anything. Even a divorce.