Thoughts in the shower

Don't worry, they were clean thoughts, lots of shampoo etc......

But I was thinking about what my ex has done for me.

He somehow found my last blog alias, read it and sent me a horrid email, telling me not to write about him and why would people want to read about 'ex-husbands' anyway and NOT to write in too much detail about my Child. Hence a new beginning.

Completely freaked me out, made me shake for hours after reading it.

Felt invaded etc.

But then over a week later, having calmed down a lot, I began to think about all the things I now didn't have to tell him about.

I didn't have to tell him about my new man, he'd read about him and said that he was 'glad' that I'd met someone.

I didn't have to tell him about learning to dance.

And I didn't have to tell him that next time I bring Child to see him, I would not be on tap as the 'babysitter', that he'd have to deal with childcare choices. I was planning on being generous this visit, as his mum had died in late spring, but he took that generosity away when he wrote me the email.

Civility, generosity of spirit, niceness, all those things can come in a two-way street. It doesn't have to just be one-way.

During our last visit, I held up the proverbial olive branch and was pleasant to his wife and then new child. I made an effort that I didn't have to make.

But I feel like now I have to put my kidd gloves back on, at least for a little while.

I feel like I need to reinstate my self-protective measures again.

The flip side of not offering to help with Child during this visit, is that I am actually having a break. As I've said in a previous post, I've been able to take dance classes, a lap dancing class, tomorrow a pole class, next week more Tango.

I am able to spend lots of quality time with my dear friend, who is without her boys too, for a week. Not to mention all the other friends and family that are available for lunches/visits.

The sun is sometimes shining here, so hopefully this afternoon, you'll find us lying on a beach with a book and our iPods, rotating in the hot sun, as if on a spit.