Michelle Fox: Not wearing wedding ring!- Oh, wait. No one cares.

I think we have established that I am going through a divorce. However, we have not established what my silver lining in that is. My name is not Elin Nordegren, Sandra Bullock or even Kate Gosselin. No one is making golf balls with my (soon to be ex) husband's mistresses faces on them (so help me, if I found out there's a mistress!), splashing my face on US Weekly with scandalous headlines or judging my parenting skills while the entire world weighs in.

Divorce is hard (I should know. This is number two for me.) I cannot imagine going through this and having to see it all over television and the tabloids.

Thank God all this will be over by the time I'm on the bestseller list.

Happy Easter, part II

Well, they clearly wanted Silas to come back to church. He won the nursery Easter Basket drawing. He hails from a long line of people who are charmed by free stuff.

Happy Easter!

I was brought up in two different faiths. Baptist and Assembly of God. I made my choice at 16 and got in a huge fight with the side of the family whose faith I did not choose. That is not the point. The point is that all of my families were proactive in trying to give me a faith.

Today will be my son's first time to go to church, and I'm aware of the fact that he'll be in a nursery. However, if I get back into the habit of going to church, eventually my son will be old enough to learn the things I learned that have buoyed me through every hard time and given me Someone to thank for every blessing.

Of course I hope Silas chooses to believe the things I believe, but I know from my own experience that all I can do is expose him and let him make his own choices.

The fairy tales I was told have never panned out for me. I am no one's princess. But the lessons I was taught in Sunday school and children's church in both of my faiths still hold firm in my heart.

Even at almost 28, I am a child of God, and He loves me even when I feel like no one else possibly could. That is the hope that I would like to instill in the perfect little boy who is getting a rough start in life.

Wherever you are and whatever you do or do not believe, I hope you have a wonderful Easter and have found your way to feel loved in the valleys and thankful in the peaks.

Happy Easter!

What is "outside", really?

In twenty-four hours, I have gone from being a happily married mother of one with two dogs, a 2400 sq. foot house and a yard, to a seperated (single) mother of one with two dogs, a 745 sq. foot apartment and a patio.

My dogs refuse to do their business on a leash. I've tried fighting the battle and have admitted defeat. For their entire lives, they've just had a door opened and grass awaiting them to do their business...until this morning.

My solution to my fenced in patio and dogs who refuse to potty on leashes was puppy training pads.

So, when Silas awakened me at 5 this morning, I asked the dogs the same question I ask every morning, "Do you need to go outside?"

They did their excited little dance, and I opened up my back patio and set down puppy pads and then presented it to them as "outside."

I let them out, closed the door, made a bottle, gave it to Silas, and went back to check on the dogs.

The puppy pads were decidedly dry. The whole patio also decidedly dry.

Well, I thought, maybe if I stand out here and encourage them. So, I stood outside for fifteen minutes and said "potty" over and over while pointing to the pads (while thanking God that most of my neighbors must be asleep at this ridiculous hour because I must look as insane as I feel).

Penny and Heidi would respond by walking to the fence that surrounds the patio and sniffing where they could SMELL the grass and then look at me as if to say, "For God sakes, woman, YES we need to go potty, now let us OUTSIDE."

It's almost 6, and we're still at an impasse.

That "it's five o'clock somewhere" cliche is starting to make a whole lot of sense to me right about now.

Changes

There is no clever anecdote for this day. To put it plainly, my life has completely changed. I don't want to say fallen apart because there is still a lot of it that kicks ass.

So, over all, I'm still awesome, Silas is still perfect, I still have the best friends in the world, I still have an amazing family, I still have a good job with really great bosses and co-workers, and my roly-poly ass has not missed a meal.

There's just this giant elephant in the room of the pending being a single mom losing the man I'm in love with thing to deal with. Once i've figured out how not to give a shit (and believe me, I will) all will be right with my world.

And no, Kenneth, I'm still not going to jump. Sorry to disappoint.

Re-write

Disney got it all wrong with Prince Charming and the Knight in shining armor.

You want to know who really comes in and saves the day? Your best friend. Most of time your best friend is either a straight female or a gay male. Or if you're a dude reading this post, you don't really care about Prince Charming, but you're decidedly NOT the ones saving we damsels-in-distress from our evil step-mothers (hateful bosses, ill-trained color specialists, you). YOU are saving your Bros from their bitchy wives/girlfriends.

That is the true dynamic of the male/female relationship. Men don't ride up on stallions and slay dragons for their princesses. They hop in their jeeps and pick up a six pack and a pizza and watch kung-fu with their ailing buddies.

Meanwhile, our bad-ass girlfriends plant a stiletto in the dragon's heart, careful not to break that bottle of wine, and have the princess out of that dragon's grasp and laughing uproariously within half an hour of arriving.

So, can we stop selling our little girls this crap about some knight in shining armor riding up to save the day so that HER girlfriends don't have to listen to how she doesn't understand why he doesn't "care about her feelings"?

Simply put: Your man just wants to drink beer and laugh at dumb stuff you don't find remotely entertaining, and your girlfriend will always agree with you and never call you "ridiculous" for any (ridiculous) thing you are upset about.

I propose a Disney re-write, or just a ban altogether.

Lazy Sunday

Si and I are laying on the couch. The dogs are tangled up in there somewhere too.

Nothing wrong with that. It's Sunday.

Except....half my house is in boxes and half is still in cabinets and drawers. My husband broke (okay, probably not broke but that's how he's acting) his back yesterday, and my mother-in-law is two weeks out from having had shoulder surgery.

We three are my moving crew. And as I already know there's no such thing as a packing fairy from my last move, I should be doing something other than laying on the couch.

I keep setting timelines for myself to get off the couch. "At 9:30, you'll get up and pack the kitchen."

At 9:30, what I actually did was start the marathon of watching all the crap I have DVR'd.

All of this has led me to draw the conclusion that I should never aspire to be a life coach or a motivational speaker.