divorce | Heidi Esther, Joyologist

Family Night, Shamly-Night, Who needs Family Night?

Barbara’s spinning the recliner chair, again? I wonder what happened?

Post-Dinner Bliss

It is Wednesday at 6:27 pm. My belly content from a healthy dinner. My body hitting relaxation mode as I exit a clean kitchen. Like it never happened is our new family motto for the kitchen. That’s how clean it needs to look after breakfast, second breakfast, hot lunch, snack, tea time, and dinner. It’s working pretty well.

I pause as Stacey, my wife, wraps a block of frozen something in a kitchen towel to thaw overnight. I turn off the light.

With devilish excitement in my voice, as if suggesting dessert for breakfast, “jammies?” Stacey gives me the nod of approval.

Ohhh! I wonder what Jammy family night will be?? Read on!

Country Club Series 2/2: Aunt Flo Strikes Back

Country Club Series 1/2: It’s the Most Aunt-Flo-der-ful, Country Club Series 2/2: Aunt Flo Strikes Back

After one beer and 14 hours of work

I’m sure it’s sweat. It’s after dark and still in the 90s.

I scan the landscape. For the darkest path. In case Aunt Flo decided not to leave. Bee-atch.

Okay, can’t walk-run to my car. My purse is in the office. Breathe. My next steps:

Cross the Welcome station
Walk ½ way up the Circle Drive
Get past the Valet-guarded doors
Dodge outcoming bathroom crowd
Walk 20 feet into a No-Escaping-Notice office

I’m sure I’m fine.

is she fine? OMG, I can’t even watch. Why didn’t she double up, dear god, why???

Country Club Series 1/2: It’s the most Aunt Flo-der-ful…

Country Club Series 1/2: It’s the Most Aunt-Flo-der-ful, Country Club Series 2/2: Aunt Flo Strikes Back

Biggest. Party. Of. The. Year.

Two giant tents – filled with properly-placed napkins and gourmet picnic food on silver chafing dishes. A live pop cover band tests their equipment, which means you don’t have to bring your 9-iron today. Or plaid pants. Unless you really want to.

can you smell the cut grass and the grill? Read more to hear about “the wrinkle”

God hides under the kitchen table for 35 years?

Hello,
this is God.
I’ll be handling all of your problems today.
Have a miraculous day.

Heidi Esther’s negative-ninny mind has got her cornered again. How is she supposed to live when she feels like – she’s – a mistake? She finds an answer under the kitchen table…

8 years ago in a treehouse

I blew my nose in the last kleenex. I sat in a dark corner of my bedroom, my arms hugging my knees. Across from me: a wall of windows. The day was bright. My view was shaded, showing a lush, leafy vista. I pulled my hoodie strings tighter around my head.

Why was Heidi so sad? It looks like such a nice day outside! Read on to find out…

Engagement Series 1/3: How can I love you?

Engagement Series 1/3: How Can I Love You? Engagement Series 2/3: The Return of the Ring Engagement Series 3/3: Sponge Bathing

Coffee with a caveat

Stacey walked down my narrow, dark, second-floor hallway. She has this rock-star swagger about her walk. When we walk, her Air Force service gives her the intuitive tools to lock-step together, which I find romantic. She held my morning coffee in her hand, which, of course, fully endeared her to me. Then, something unexpected happened.

She didn’t hand over the coffee and got down on one knee.

will heidi ever get her morning coffee? Read on!

you can’t make me go back in there!

Divorced Scaredy Cat

I stood with sinking legs, at the threshold of my ex’s new house. Inside was silent and cave-dark against the light from the doorway. His large figure, daunting, challenging, between me and the sun.

I wanted a hoodie. I needed a bathroom. I desperately wanted to compliment him. My kids, 6 and 7, were still inside, looking for guidance. My tongue was stuck; lead feet ensued.

Geeeeeze, people, stop getting ahead of yourselves! This is not a story about violence. But when my ex gets angry, it’s like his eyes sink into his head and turn all black – like the black-oil people who get infected with the alien virus in X-Files. Get what I’m sayin?

Pre-divorce, my immediate response to his anger was either:

What do you do when you’re scared? read on and respond at the end!

How I got to Thriving…

How did I get to a life where I’m THRIVING?

(SKIP TO THE PART where YOU can learn how to THRIVE!)

Well, there are treks through Swamps of Sadness, rides on uni-llama-corns, brave journeys into dark thorny brambles of the soul, and unexpected blessings of drunken poetry. There is no Prince Charming. There are ugly bathroom-stall cries, and times “I cried so hard, tears ran down my leg.” There are shame, isolation, migraines, hundreds of chocolate chip cookies, friends, angels, demons, bad haircuts, the miracle of life, and the miracle of a soul, finally, heard.

33 Years. That’s how long it took before I woke up. At that point, I had an oversized suburban house and a toddler for each leg. I had it all, and, yet, every day I woke up and felt old and crumpled, like at least 50. (which seemed old at the time, but, really, 50 is the new 40…)

what does this have to do with you? read on!