7mark8

I’ve always considered pre-nuptial agreements to be a good idea. Of course, I’ve always considered myself to be someone others were out to get. It never occurred to me that I might someday be on the receiving end of such a thing. My partner Mike has just downloaded some pre-nuptial forms off the web.

At first I didn’t think anything of it; I mean, I really don’t want the money he’s about to get out of his insurance company, nor the half a million dollar Cape Cod style house on the lake he’s been driving by everyday for the past month, nor … whatever brand of SUV he’s got his eye on today. In fact, I hope he blows through all his money before he dies. It’s certainly not going to do him much good after. But there is something about this pre-nuptial thing that's got me miffed and I think it's this; “why should I waste what’s left of my life cleaning his damn house, busting my back maintaining his pretentious yard, putting up with his moods and his incessant bullying without getting some sort of reinbursement?”

I know, I know… that’s a terrible, hurtful thing to say and I’m making this sound like I’m not getting anything out of our relationship at all which is simply not the case. I’ve got someone to help me stand tall when my ex effectively pits my children against me, he encourages my writing… PLUS, I’ll be free to spend my own money on a new Mac!!! I’ve kind of, sort of fallen in love with my Mac at work. Well, more to the point, I’ve fallen in love with that Garage Band program it has on it.

You see, back in high school, I used to be in a garage band. We weren’t all that good but we did have a kick ass lead guitarist. He was 26, fresh out of the Army, broad shoulders, tiny little waist, cute as the dickens… in a nutshell, he was our money-maker – all the girls wanted to have his baby. But more than that, I had a knack for writing some pretty infectious riffs. Granted the lyrics left something to be desired. Even back then I remember thinking “all our songs are about sex, girls and partying.” But in my own defense, very few popular songs of the day (80's) were about much more than that. I guess that’s what's so cool about revisiting this old stuff now - I’ve got plenty of real life experiences to draw meaningful content for my lyrics. Not that any of this foolishness will ever make me rich. I’m no longer young enough to become a rock star but HEY! What if I used these songs to promote my books? YEAH!! I could even create YouTube videos for them as well. Hmmm… I feel another project coming on!!!

Wish me luck?!?!?

Not sure why I never vote. I suppose it’s because keeping informed is just too much damn work. I mean, I can never take a politician’s word at face value, I have to do my own research just to verify his/her facts and that’s a huge investment of time that… well… I’m just not willing to give. I do have a life after all – and children who will always come first. Of course there is that certain adrenalin rush I always get from becoming a part of something larger than myself. I believe it’s called “fighting the good fight” and it really is a “GOD IT’S GREAT TO BE ALIVE” feeling… but how do I deal with the inevitable sense of futility that sets in once I finally realize none of my thoughts or energies will ever affect change? Politicians will always be corrupt; money will always be the deciding factor and so... why get myself all worked up over things beyond my control? If I had my druthers I’d just assume stay out of it but recent events in the state of Wisconsin (Governor Walker) seem to be sucking me right back into the game.

Now don’t get me wrong, I do understand where Walker is coming from. He wants a balanced budget. Who doesn’t? But I also see where the Democrats are coming from. They fear the concessions Walker demands will weaken the collective bargaining power unions have fought years and years and years to gain. Yes these are both very valid issues but for some reason, I’m having a hard time choosing sides. Why is that? Issues of this magnitude usually chap my backside with a vengeance. Or wait… I know… these issues are trite compared to the trillions of dollars we’ve thrown out the window getting involved in foreign wars over the past two decades.

On the news tonight I saw a protester carrying a sign with Governor Walker’s photo morphed onto Hitler’s. I don’t like him either but at least when Hitler went to war, he absorbed the losing countries resources into his own. That’s how he rebuilt Germany after WWI. So, why aren’t we doing that? Why aren’t we absorbing the resources of the foreign countries we’re at war with/for? Why do we keep helping these third world nations rebuild their own governments with no expectation of monetary return? How can we be so giving to the rest of the world and yet so callous to our own people? WE THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA SHOULD NOT BEAR THE FINANCIAL BURDEN OF FOREIGN WARS FROM WHICH WE WILL NEVER PROFIT!!! If we can't afford it... if it's costing us too much to be over there... then maybe we just plain shouldn't fight at all. Like my great grandmother used to say; "Charity begins at home."

I thought I was off the hook because a waitress who has been hounding me for a copy of my book was laid off shortly before Thanksgiving. Neither she nor anyone else at the resort I cook for know I'm gay. But business is picking up, she's been hired back and she's right there in the kitchen hounding me for it again. I knew she wouldn't like the book but since I start my new job on January 4th I figured... why not? Let's make my last two weekends here interesting.

"Did you sign it?" she asked when I handed her the box containing my book.

"No," I shook my head "because it's probably not what your expecting. Take it home, look it over and if you still want me to sign it I'll do that for you tomorrow night. I just don't want you to smile and nod and toss it in the trash behind my back. If you don't like it, please give it back. I promise I won't be offended if you do."

The next night when she came in it seemed as though she was avoiding me so I asked if we were still on speaking terms.

"Oh yes... but I'm giving the book back." She smiled apologetically. "It's not that it wasn't good... I'm not shocked by it... it's just that... well... it reads like emails... with a bunch of different people commenting... I'm just not very computer literate... and if my husband ever saw it he'd say 'what the f*** is this?'" I wish I could describe the look on her face as she mocked her husband but my words would only diminish it. It was just such a relief when she began joking around with me just like she used to. And as we closed up for the night, she turned to hug me very genuinely and whispered in my ear "I love you Nick."

How cool is that?

Merry Christmas everyone! And Happy New Year too in case I don't log on here before then (lots going on with the move and all). You know... I never thought I'd be so sad to see a year like this go. So many wonderful things have happened - I got my first book published, I've received a job offer the likes of which I haven't seen in years and I'll be moving back to the same town my children are living in. I'm going to become a regular part of their lives again! WOO-HOO!!! My partner says the reason things are coming together as they are is because I'm finally sending the right kind of thoughts out into the universe. He's spiritual and to be honest with you, I really don't buy into all that spirituality crap. However, I do have to admit that I am thinking much more clearly now. I used to be so negative - constantly wrapped up in my own little world... and very fearful. Is it possible my partner's spiritual teachers are right when they say that we are the ones who bring either good or bad things into our lives merely by the thoughts we send out? I'm finding it harder and harder to argue against this... what I rather sarcastically call... "The Pollyanna Syndrome."

I would really, really, really love to know your views on all this "Law of Attraction" hype.

Several months ago I returned home from work (2:30 am - I'm cooking at night for a local resort now) to find a white envelope waiting for me on the kitchen table. Inside was a card containing the following message; "It's not fair to make you choose between me and your children. I've decided to sell the 40 acres so we can move closer to them."

"Is he nuts?" I thought to myself as an annoying lump rose in my throat. This place has become Mike's own personal slice of heaven. I can't let him sell it. What could we realistically get for it in this housing market anyway? Would it even be enough to cover what he still owes on it? Regardless of which, when Mikey makes up his mind about something there's usually no turning back. He really does love my children - and they him. In fact my three year old son runs right past me and jumps into his arms. I'm not jealous; it really is quite touching the bond they've developed. Mike is disabled and my youngest son's dependency on him makes Mike feel useful again.

But that was several months ago and our transition is not going as smoothly as planned. My ex made the decision to move in with her boyfriend November first. It was an odd decision given her reluctance to become dependent on any man again. But I couldn't help her make her rent - I'm not making that much money anymore. I suspect she was evicted and is now punishing me for it by severing all contact between me and my children again. And when I coincidentally encountered them at a gas station she screamed "WHY ARE YOU STALKING ME? GET AWAY! YOU HAVE YOUR FREEDOM NOW SO JUST LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE!!!"

"And you're just walking away from that?" Mike chastised as I returned to our vehicle.

"Well, what am I supposed to do Mike - engage in a full blown argument right here in the parking lot?"

"I can't believe you just asked me that. It sounds like you don't really care for those kids of yours and if you're not willing to put them first, then why should I?"

“Quite right.” I wanted to say but didn’t. Why would anyone in their right mind sell off everything they own for another man’s children?

“You know, I really need to reconsider what I’m doing here. If you’re just going to shut down every time your ex throws a curve at you then... I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I can be a party to that. This may be time for us to go our separate ways…”

Oh great. Just what I need on top of everything else – to worry about him throwing me out in sub-zero weather without a vehicle (my “shaggin’ wagon finally died) and with very little money to secure a place of my own. Not that I haven’t been in worse predicaments than this before. Life before Mikey wasn’t all that great but I managed. To be honest with you, I kind of got off on the anonymity that comes along with being poor. I mean, no one was jealous of my beat up, piece of crap Chevy Conversion van. In fact, the first words out of most guy’s mouths were “Whoa… we could fuck in here” (hence the name “Shaggin’ Wagon. hehe). No one was jealous of where I lived either. My room resembled a college dormitory with a small bathroom and shower stall attached. If anything, it threw my tricks into a reverie about their old college days…

“…and so, my roommate would ask ‘want to bear my child?’ just before blowing his load deep in my hole…” one hook-up confided.

I’ve heard bottoms moan “oh yeah, breed my hole” but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a top asking his bottom boy to bear his child.

“I don’t get it.” I shook my head.

“Well, that was our thing. With girls, he had to wear a condom so he didn’t get them pregnant but with me… he could be... au naturel…”

It was an interesting story but I still wasn’t doing him bareback. I think he thought whining about latex allergies would change my mind. To be honest with you, the idea of causing him pain just fueled my desire more. Weird.

It's weird that I'm able to be so firm with men I don't know very well but when it comes to people who are close to me... I'm pretty much a doormat. Take my ex-wife for example. I am riddled with guilt that I couldn't help her out with her eviction. And why? She certainly had no hang ups about threatening to out me to my dying parents just to keep me from leaving her. Nor did she have any qualms about popping out kid after kid knowing full well that the children were the only things keeping us together. I should really, really, really hate her for that. But I don't. I don't feel anything anymore. Why? And why do I no longer get upset when she severs contact between me and my children?

"I think you're falling into a depression." Mike observed. So I agreed to meet with a counselor who determined that yes, I do have bouts of depression but appear to be coping with it. I thanked him for his time but suggested meeting with both Mike and I the following week as I knew Mike would probably want to verify this diagnosis for himself. We met with the counselor yesterday and he drew us a diagram of... nonetheless... triangles.

In the above triangles, Mike is the “rescuer” which creates an unhealthy situation. Ideally he needs to act more as an “objective observer” who offers me advice but remains impartial. It’s a great idea in theory but, let’s face it, how can anyone remain an “objective observer” when he’s selling off his possessions, uprooting himself from a home that he loves… basically giving up everything he’s worked his entire life for just to come to the rescue of another man's children - children whose own father appears to have given up the fight to keep them in his life?

I realize it is difficult for anyone without children to enter into a relationship with someone who does. I guess I just didn't think it would become this difficult. Does anyone out there have experience with this? If so, I'd love to hear from you. I'd also love to hear from those of you who have experience with setting up boundaries. What are some things that you do to prevent those close to you from taking over your lives?

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Epilogue

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“WOW! GOLDFISH CRACKERS!!!” My five year old son drooled.

“Yeah, Mike bought those just for you.” I informed.

“Mmmm… Can I have some Mike?””

“Yeah… OK. Just let us get everyone buckled in first.””

Word to the wise: allow at least five minutes lead time to get four kids under the age of 10 buckled up before departing from anywhere. Sounds dumb doesn’t it? But you’d be amazed by how interesting the most mundane things can be to kids when given a task they really don’t want to do - like getting buckled up. Despite our growing irritability Mike and I both had to chuckle when my son switched to a slightly more subtle tactic; “Well, you know Mike, those Gold Fish Crackers are really wanting to be in my tummy right about now…””

My oldest son was the first to take to Mike. I was surprised. I thought my oldest daughter would have been the first to monopolize him with her incessant but interesting conversations. She does like him. They all do. And it’s not the fake nicey nice crap kids usually dish out when forced to spend time with people they don’t know very well. They really, really, really like him. Even my second daughter (who has perfectly assimilated her mother’s ability to make you feel like shit with a simple glance) is announcing “TICKLE FIGHT!!!” every time Mike enters the room.

Speaking of rooms, Mike has turned his whole house upside down for them. We’ve effectively child proofed everything and he’s even asked them how they’d like their rooms decorated. I think he was surprised by the flurry of ideas they threw at him. He had no idea how often I used to coax my kids into describing for me the happy room in their mind whenever they were upset about something. I thought it was just a ploy to get their minds off of what was bothering them at the time but now they have their very own happy rooms in reality!!!

The girls room has painted flowers growing up from the floor boards, a fairy themed border separating the grass from the sky just below window level, sun and clouds on one side of the room, moon and stars on the other. The moon and stars are glow in the dark stickers which they themselves got to put up. We also mounted an old school house table top as a work counter along one wall with shelves above. Those shelves above are already chock full of markers, colored pencils, construction paper, glitter glue, paints, scissors and other assorted art supplies. But of course, the most special shelf in that room is the very top as it is now the home for my oldest daughters hand knitted teddy bear collection. Each one is unique because they were hand made by one of the workers at the local food shelf their mother visits. My daughter values them dearly - probably because she has spent hours chatting up the old lady who makes and saves the very best ones for her.…

The boys room has bunk beds with matching bedding of  Lightening McQueen (the spoiled little race car from the Pixar Movie who “eats losers for breakfast” but, in the tradition of all great Disney films, learns the value of true friendship by the end of the movie). “

“IT’S THE CARS, IT’S THE CARS” my almost 2 year old son chants at the larger than life sized movie posters also of  Lightening McQueen & friends that Mike has carefully hung on their walls. And tucked neatly under the bottom bunk are plastic tub containers for keeping all their “Cars” cars and tracks separate from all of their “Hot Wheel” cars and tracks. Guess how long it takes my two sons to marry it all together into one big pile for everyone to trip over? LOL

“Know what kids?” I couldn’t help but say as I gave them a tour of Mike’s property (they think Mike’s deer stand would make the perfect play house. hehe). “I would sooooo love it if you could live here.””

“AND MOM TOO?!?!?” My second oldest daughter’s face lit up…  but only for a moment. She already knew the answer to that question.