The Dream Machine

My husband gave me a new alarm clock for my birthday last week. There were several other gifts that I loved, but this one kind of rocked my world.

"Finally you won't have to smash the buttons anymore...AND you'll be able to see what time it is!" He was grinning ear to ear, proud of this gift, knowing this was something I had needed for a long time.

I hesitated.

Yes, my alarm clock had seen better days. Yes, sometimes the buttons called for back up reinforcement (thank you very much Sharpie pen cap). And yes, the digits on the little screen were getting hard for me to read in my old age...but I haven't had the heart to part with it.

I invested in the Sony Dream Machine in the summer of 1997 just before I headed off to college. I used my graduation money because I knew better than to ask my parents for a $100 alarm clock. I chose this one because it had a digital screen AND I could either wake up to the buzzer OR music. Bonus: I didn't have to guess what station it was on because again, it was digital, and I had total control. Score.

The Dream Machine has been next to my bed for 19 years. At times I've joked that this alarm clock is the one thing that's been with me for almost my entire adulthood (if you can count college as adulthood?!) Even my favorite pieces of jewelry haven't stuck around this long.

I think the look on my face gave it away...was I ready to pull the plug on the Dream Machine and replace it with a shinier, newer model? I felt conflicted. It might sound silly, but clearly I have an emotional connection to this alarm clock.

Memories flooded my heart...good ones and bad. The best moments of my life have been witnessed by this alarm clock, along with moments when my heart was breaking into a million pieces. The Dream Machine woke me up on the day my parents got divorced, the day I graduated from college, they day I packed up my life and moved to Georgia, my first day of school as a teacher, my wedding day in 2005, the day I started my own company, the day I become a mother, the day we buried my mother in law, the day I realized I was having a nervous breakdown, the day I knew I had to leave my marriage, my first day as a "single mom", the day I surrendered my life to God again, the day I felt like I could finally breathe again, the day we signed our book deal, the day I met my {now} husband Clay, the day I fell in love again...I could go on.

The Dream Machine has been through 19 years of dreams with me...some have worked out better than others. While I have grown through the tears and the joy, this little black box has stayed the same.

I had a completely different post planned for this week's blog, but for some reason I felt led to share this instead. Is it crazy to feel so connected to something that just plugs into a wall? Are my sentiments random and crazy or is there something in your life you've held on to, solely for the memories it holds?

I pulled the plug on Friday night. A shiny new alarm clock with big digital numbers and fancy buttons now sits next to my bed. I am ready to embrace this next phase of my life, finally letting go of something that I've held on to for so long. I know the next 19 years will be filled with wonderful new memories as I continue to dream.

As for the Dream Machine? I've retired it to my office...because it still works and you never know when you'll need back up :)

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time I had a neighbor. We'll call her Sally, just for fun.

Sally lived next door to me, she had two boys, a husband (we'll call him Joe) and a dog. Our kids were close in age so we would typically chat on the sidewalk, supervising bicycle accidents and standard cul-de-sac shenanigans. Nothing too personal, just generic friendly neighbor chat.

I'll never forget the Halloween Sally and I got to rrreeeallllly know each other. Her husband had taken a group of kids around the neighborhood on a hay ride (mine included) and we were left hanging on the front porch together. Conversation was flowing naturally, and then she dropped the bomb.

"Joe doesn't want me hanging out with you...he's afraid you're going to convince me to divorce him."

I was completely shocked. What??? Did she really just say that? Yes, yes, indeed, she did. Then I realized something I had been oblivious to before...

I was "the one"...the token neighborhood single girl who had the guts to leave her husband, file for divorce, and move on with her life. On top of it all, I was in the process of co-writing a book about helping women survive and navigate the divorce process. My strength and courage intimidated this man. What a shame.

At that time I knew nothing about their marriage, but the thought of him intentionally keeping his wife from me was somewhat concerning. Time passed and I got to know the real Sally. She opened up, shared her heart, and was completely vulnerable with me. I think I was the only person in the world who didn't judge her for the truths her life was. I was the unconditional friend who could listen without judgement, the one person in her world who could possibly understand what she was going through.

Truth be told, her husband was extremely abusive and controlling (shocker), and after their move across town into their "dream home" filled with fancy furniture and all the fixins, she finally got the guts to walk away.

Newsflash, Joe...her decision to leave you had nothing to do with me...in fact, the truth is I encouraged her to stay. I prayed for her. I prayed for YOU. I encouraged her to seek counseling, to go to church and to dig into her Bible...I even shared my dating disaster stories with her, in hopes that she would see the truth...the grass is not always greener.

When I tell people I have co-written a book about divorce the initial reaction is "ohhhhhhh..."Like it's a hush-hush kind of thing. I've gotten used to this reaction, especially living in the south where the word "divorce" is just as bad as dropping the f-bomb.

The truth is this...just because we wrote a book about divorce doesn't mean we're running around town telling women to leave their husbands. If anything we are encouraging them to do the work to try and save their marriages.

Our goal in writing The Ex-Wives' Guide to Divorce was to HELP women not only survive the divorce process but recognize there can be some light at the end of that really dark, scary tunnel. Is the tunnel full of rainbows and unicorns? Absolutely not. But nothing in life is.

xoxo Holiday

Because We Are All Soooo 2015

Happy New Years everyone!!!  As 2014 loudly for some, and quietly for others slips away, I wanted to take this opportunity to wish all of you a Happy New Years on behalf of The Ex-Wives.

In true typical NYE fashion I also want to issue all of you a challenge…  Don't worry - this one doesn't involve a long list of DONT'S (like not eating carbs) rather just one thing to DO. (Yay for us!)

See, I was excited for my New Years this year too.  Particularly New Years Eve, as I was supposed to be sipping fruity non-kid friendly drinks with umbrellas filled with unfiltered water and God knows what in Mexico and then hop on a boat and conga line my way into 2015 in a gorgeous Anthropologie dress, sparkly gold shoes, and no doubt a noise maker with lipstick and champagne stains (mine, others, who cares, ole!).  And that was going to be bueno, actually muy bueno.  

But plans changed.  Quickly.  As in 6 hours before I was to be picked up for my flight.  

Instead, I changed courses (and flights!) unpacking my tropical vacation suitcase full of color and vibrant warm weather clothes for the frozen tundra of Middle State Michigan far from tropical gloves, and hats, and sweaters, and sweatpants.  I am currently wearing all of the aforementioned in addition to wearing my winter coat as I type in my mothers house in Kalamazoo watching the snow fall as we get ready to go to a church to hear tubas play.  (No - I couldn't make that up even if I wanted too…)  

I could go on with the whole story on how my gifted tropical vacation from the boy I now used to date called me 6 hours before our trip to tell me "I'm just not excited" and he just needed me to talk to him so he could make up his mind if we should really go.  I could go on about the fact I was in the ER the day before for non-stop vomiting.  I could go on about how this was going to be one of the very few times away from my son for more than 3 days without me being sick or in a hospital, ever.  I could go on about how I had to move heaven and earth to make all of this trip of ours happen - as all single mothers do.  But I won't.

I won't because this year I will be re-writing all of my stories.  And I'm challenging all of you to do the same.

That's right - I am done telling the stories (well not the realllly funny ones because they're normally pretty worth it) that send an ounce of bad energy into the world or pain or conjures up a vision of me wearing a name tag that says Hello My Name Is: VICTIM.  Bad energy for me, bad energy for "what happened", bad anything that drains instead of fills is so 2014.  And we lovely ladies, are so not last year…  We are sooo 2015.

This doesn't mean bad things won't happen - that's not real life - you and I know that.  Some of us know this a little too much, in fact we would like to un-friend it on Facebook if we could.  I just refuse to give life to things that steal an ounce of my or any ones joy in 2015.  

I'm hoping you feel the same way and join me in declaring to the world, the Universe, to God, to Oprah (I swear Oprah is the adult version of Santa Claus to me…) to whomever you feel guides your spirit and makes your soul sing in key that we are ready to re-write our everyday stories.  Because even though they sometimes start without us doesn't mean they need to end without us stealing the pen back.

So with much adieu, I am pleased to present my re-written New Years week and Eve story.  And it goes a little somethin' like this (picture that sang rap Diddy style):

- Decent boy meets beautiful on the inside and out happy girl.

- Nice enough boy wants smart and creative girl full of sunshine and she says okay.

- Ordinary boy needs to either hatch or go bad - because nobody (including good energy girl) wants just a decent egg.

- Boy goes bad week before New Years trip and expires 6 hours before departure with fabulous full of life girl who now fashionably has a new Anthropologie tropical dress collection.

- Girl is happy and relieved - because breaking up with a decent egg is really hard to do, but a bad egg… you just scrape down the drain and continue cooking.

And the fairy tale ending to my rewritten story...

- Groovy Girl fishes her wish.  Instead of bringing in 2015 somewhere warm with a cold heart, she brings in 2015 somewhere cold with a VERY warm heart, because she is surrounded by those that bring her love and joy and happiness.  And her end is just her beginning to a very BRIGHT 2015.

We hope all of your 2015's are rewritten the very same way - written by YOU in a way that reminds you how wonderful, and loving, and DESERVING OF JOY you really are - no matter where you are in the last hours of 2014 or what your past stories are.  

So get out a new pen Girlfriend, because your 2015 is ready to be written… And I just know it's going to be a good, if not the best, story you will ever tell.

Happy New Year!!! 

Love, Valerie (Of V & H of The Ex-Wives)

The secretary survived...this time.

I'm not the violent type. Except for when someone takes the last bite of ice cream and leaves the EMPTY container in the freezer...only for me to be PMS'ing and find it...completely EMPTY during a chocolate attack. But that's a whole 'nother story...

Living in two houses is pretty annoying. Thankfully I never had to do it (until I was an adult- thanks Mom and Dad for sticking it out until I went to college)...but my kids have been going back and forth for 3 years now. Their dad and I decided from the get-go we would do everything we could to make the transition back and forth as seamless as possible. We do our best. But sometimes we fail.

Last Monday morning I woke up to the ding of my iPhone. "The girls don't have shoes for school. E has P.E. today." Grrrreeeeeat. Way to go, DAD. This was not exactly how I pictured my morning would start. I mean seriously...I have spent years training this man to get everything ready for the kids the night before...how is this the first time in 3 days you've required our children to wear "proper" shoes? Have they been running barefoot all weekend??? REALLY?!?!

Rather than get all huffy and puffy with him (which really does nothing but piss him off and start a useless argument) I jumped out of bed and got dressed. My husband gave me a dazed and confused look. When I showed him the message he smiled. He knew exactly what was going through my head because he has been in the same exact boat. Chances are, if you're a divorced (or separated) parent, you've been there.

I grabbed their shoes and headed for the door. My husband stopped me. "Ummmm, babe, I hate to tell you this but they probably won't let you drop those shoes off..they kinda don't like it when parents drop things off after the bell rings."

The giant lump started in my throat.
Angry mommy crept in.

The reality of public school hit me. Our daughter was no longer in the nice family-friendly private Christian school, where everyone welcomed you with smiles and rainbows no matter WHAT you were dropping off, delivering, or any other reason you were making an appearance during school "instructional" hours.

Look, I get it people. I used to be a teacher. There's nothing more annoying than a mommy running in to rescue her kid with the teddy bear he forgot on the counter for show-and-tell that day.

This was DIFFERENT.
My kid didn't have shoes and it was NOT HER FAULT.

It didn't matter.
I was gonna have to get past the school secretary with these shoes.

My response to my husband? "Well guess what...I don't really CARE if they don't like it...I'm bringing her her shoes and they're just gonna have to get OVER IT."

I fought tears in the car. Guilt covered me, I was sad, angry, and frustrated. My kids should never have to pay the price for the divorce they didn't ask for. My daughter should never have to get in trouble at school for something that was out of her control. Kids who live in one house never have to worry about this stuff...I failed.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I opened the door to the front office.
There she was. The school secretary in all of her glory.

"Good morning...can I help you?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry...we are new here and this is soooo not my style to ever do anything like this and I know it sounds silly but...my daughter needs her shoes. She was with her daddy this weekend and he lives 40 minutes away..."

 I started rambling. My voice was shaking.

SERIOUSLY HOLIDAY? You're going to let the school secretary scare you?
Since when do you have a shaky voice?
Ummmm...NEVER.
Pull it together, dammit. This is NOT HER FAULT.

Her body language was obvious- she instantly sat up straight in her chair and gave me a smile...She was about to tell me no.

I had to intervene or someone was gonna get hurt. Crazy mommy was kicking in, and either she was gonna take these shoes for my kid or I was gonna lose my shit in the main office (which probably wouldn't have gone over very well).

Deep breath. 

"Ma'am...I know you're just doing your job, but this is a parental problem, not a problem my child should have to deal with. This is our fault- not hers. Unfortunately divorce sucks. And sometimes parents screw up. My daughter shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes."

Silence.

She reached out her hand, gesturing for the bag with the shoes.
I handed it over, still fighting my tears.

Through her smile, in her sweet southern draw, she reminded me, "For the future, just know that it is against school policy to accept anything after the bell rings..."

"Yes, ma'am...I understand."

I walked out of the school office feeling ashamed. I also felt the need to share this story.

I know I'm not the only parent who has gone through this. And I'm wondering if our public school system has ever addressed these individual circumstances. As a former elementary school teacher I can honestly say I would choose a brief classroom interruption over any kid having a tough day at school ANYTIME. No questions asked.

But we all know the truth...the gatekeeper is the school secretary.

Maybe I should send her a cookie basket.

xoxo Holiday  :)

Our ex is engaged...

It aint over till the fat lady sings. And girlfriend, she's a singin'.

You know you're over your ex husband when he gets engaged and you're genuinely happy for him. That's right...my (actually, our...) ex husband proposed to his girlfriend last week, and I couldn't be happier. And no, I don't say that with any hesitation, bitterness or jealousy. When he asked me for some suggestions on how to propose, my simple request was that he do a better job with her than he did with me. (I couldn't make this up. I promise).

Mission accomplished.

Here's the deal. If I could choose a woman to be a second mother to my kids, I would choose her. This is the kind of girl I would want to be friends with, hang out with, and have a glass of wine with. In fact, I'm 99% positive she would fit in with Valerie and I like peas and carrots. This man has incredible taste in women, if I do say so myself : )

She's a gorgeous blonde with sweet southern charm, and best of all, my girls adore her. I don't blame them. The first time they told me about her their exact words were, "Mommy, she's so beautiful, she looks just like Cinderella!" I nearly ran off the road thanks to a mild heart attack, but I recovered nicely and no one was hurt.

I will never forget the first day we met in person (it was a random run-in ...she was sporting big Texas hair and a hot bikini while I was nothing short of a hot mess in cut off jean shorts (go ahead and make fun...I'm a true bred Florida girl). I stood like a deer in headlights in what used to be my garage, and in an effort to break the awkwardness I gave her a giant hug. She was shocked, but it broke the ice. I proceeded to ramble about how I had heard so many wonderful things about her, blah blah blah. But it was true. I wanted her to feel comfortable with me, and most of all I wanted her to know I was cool with it. All of it. Did I mention this meeting resulted in an emergency call to my personal trainer, requesting the "Operation Cinderella/Barbie"  workout start ASAP?!?!

 

The bottom line? If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

You might be struggling with the idea of your ex with someone else. Believe me, the whole Cinderella thing threw me for a loop. It's never easy, but if your relationship is truly over, the best thing you can do is embrace it. Harboring negative feelings will only cause YOU more pain. And if you have kids, it will make their divorce journey that much harder.

Holiday's top 3 reasons you should entertain the idea of supporting your ex's new special friend:

*Disclaimer: if he/she is a convicted felon or trashy skank this may not apply to you
1. It will make your kids happy.
2. Your ex will be much nicer to you.
3. The chances of you getting a birthday, Mother's day, or Christmas present from your kids will skyrocket if his new girlfriend/fiance/wife doesn't feel threatened by you.

As you're reading this you're probably thinking 1 of 2 things. 1) Holiday, you're full of crap or 2) Wow, I can't believe she's actually saying this. Out loud.

Believe it. I said it. I even gave her a giant hug the other day, welcoming her into our family.

xoxo, Holiday : )