Once again, the "two months between blogs" trend continues.
A lot can happen in two months,

Let's get right to the meat of the matter, shall we?
As you are all well aware, my marriage is coming to a close (again), this time in finality (Although, there are still probably plenty of you placing bets on this). My husband and I have completed our vicious circle again; things are wonderful, then slightly less wonderful, then stagnant. The one minute difference in this particular historical repetition is that I was the one to finally give up, rather than him. Well, that's not exactly accurate... He asked for me to give more, be more invested, come back around. He wanted us to get back to what we were. In short, I said that I didn't know if I could. Three days later he said he was filing for divorce. A few days later, I asked him if the divorce was truly, sincerely, and honestly what he wanted, reiterating that I still didn't know.  He explained to me very clearly that it was what he wanted, and it was for the best.
Friday the 13th he filled out the paperwork, and served me that Sunday.
Fast forward a few weeks, through arguments about housing, utilities, bills, financial agreements, personal property discussions, and we now have our date. Our uncontested hearing is April 30th.
And that is that, in a nutshell.

Now, for the other elephant in the room.
Yes, I have become fairly close with one of the members in the band. It was not planned or premeditated. It was not the cause for my divorce. It was completely unexpected. And it's obviously no longer a secret. In fact, I wasn't trying to hide it in the first place. I won't go into it in any further detail, other than that. Except to say this.. I did NOT pursue this until AFTER I was sure that things were over in my marriage.
(Actually, I knew things were over in my marriage a long time ago. Probably before I even moved to Veazie. In fact, if Sharla hadn't so eloquently asked me to vacate her home in Glenburn, things probably would have turned out a whole lot differently. This would be an entirely different blog)...
But I digress..
The blame game still goes on. It's my fault. I didn't try hard enough, do enough, feel enough, give enough. What my husband (and lots of others) fails to recognize is, once you've done this a handful of times with someone, it gets more and more difficult to be willing to do it again. And he and everyone else can continue to blame this on a torrid love affair with my bandmate, and I don't really give a shit. After the above statement of fact, I am done trying desperately to explain myself.

And now, Dawson and I are packing our things and moving in with my Mom (GASP).
This should be interesting.
Dawson was initially VERY upset by this. He has been through this with his step-father so many times already. He was just getting comfortable and secure again. It broke my heart. But then, sometime shortly after our conversation, he started seeing the other side of things... Moving back to Glenburn, living next door to Colby (His cousin, Sharla's son- as him and his dad are now in Sharla's old house), getting to take the bus again, being down the street from his Dad and the playground and basketball courts again, living with Babchi doesn't bother him either, he adores her. And now, even though he is sad about it, he is also excited to be going back "home", to Glenburn, to all that is familiar. And honestly, so am I. As long as I can peacefully coexist with my mother.

Things are terribly stressful right now... Trying to keep things quiet and amicable in Veazie while I wait for remodeling to be complete at mom’s house. It’s like living on the constant edge of a cliff, or in the quiet eye of a hurricane. I can only hope that the remodel is done soon. Please, dear GAWD, let it be done soon.
And in the meantime, I’m dealing with clearing 20+ years of hoarding from Mom’s place. It’s amazing the amount of stuff you can fit into a mobile home, or even one room, for Christ sake. It’s crazy. Mom is parting with things as she needs to. It wasn't even as difficult as I thought it would be. Dad would be so proud. :)

The band is going well, for the most part. Everyone is stressed and under the gun to get enough songs learned for our first gig, which is only 3 ½ weeks away. We’ll be at the Penobscot Pour House (formerly Raena’s) on April 3rd and 4th. There are the beginnings of band politics, which is normal when you throw any group of people together. I am in hopes that we can work through it though. This is a very talented group of guys, and I look forward to what we could develop into. This band has some SERIOUS potential.

Logan is preparing to move into her first apartment. Oh my. She's moving in with a friend of hers in Bangor. And she's taking Phin with her. He's her dog now. I think it best, as Dawson and Mom and I will have our hands full in the trailer. Not to mention, I have my hands full with life at the moment.
I worry about her. Will she eat well? Will she behave? Will she this or that or this or that... Will I ever see her? Dawson and I will miss her being around.

All in all, I’m pretty overwhelmed lately. I feel like if I just had three more of me, I could actually get everything done… pack all my stuff here, clean Mom’s,  move all my stuff there, get my band homework done/go to practice, keep things running smoothly at the bar, actually feed my kid something other than take-out…

This too shall pass, this too shall pass, this too shall pass… Just keep saying it.

I forgot to mention how much Stacie has been helping me through all this. Spending her weekends helping me on Mom's house, taking time off from work to help during the week. Countless hours of work and gas money spent traveling from Bucksport to Glenburn... I could not have come as far on mom's house without her. She is a godsend for me. In so many ways.
I love you, sister of my heart.