Is it Something I Said?

Moving out here to the sticks, I imagined living in a neighborhood full of families similar to mine: husband, wife and a couple of kids. We found that neighborhood and knew it was perfect when no less than six families came over to introduce themselves before we were in the house for 48 hours. This was going to be great! Maybe we could get together over margaritas and watch Grey's Anatomy. Maybe our kids would all play together. Maybe this would be our happily ever after.

We got settled, we got into our routines and I started talking to more of the moms at the bus stop in the morning. All of out there in our pj pants, coats, Uggs and mugs of coffee. We're quite a sight. Unshowered, bed head and no make up. We rock. Anyway, one of my new bus stop buddies mentioned that she had just gone through a divorce. She's a year older than I am with four kids. Rough, to say the least.

A few weeks later another mom asked if we had any boxes left over from our move because she was trying to clean up her basement. Sure, we have tons of boxes. I thought it was a bit weird that you'd need moving boxes to tidy up a basement, but maybe I'm just crazy about my plastic bins? Turns out she was packing up herself and her daughter and high-tailing it out of the state, leaving her soon to be ex-husband behind. Interesting.

Through the grapevine known as the nosy mom club I was informed that my next door neighbor who hasn't taken two seconds to even glance our direction, is also going through the Big D and I don't mean Dallas. What?! No kids this time, but she's my age. Not that people my age don't get divorced, they do, it's just weird. Almost like when you find out your doctor is your age and if you'd gone that route, you'd be a doctor!

Ok, so this is getting weird. All of these families live within five houses of me. They were all married when we moved in back in September. Now seven months later we have three that are single? Oh wait...

Just today another bus stop mom told me that she was done. Done with what? I assumed she'd meant the counseling she and her husband have been attending. No. She thinks she's done with him. Yeah, you guessed it, she's my age. Is there just something that hits you in your early to mid-thirties to make you feel like it's not worth the fight? There have been times when I didn't even want to be in the same house with my husband, but to not be married? I can't fathom. It's been a lot of hard work but the payoff is so worth it. That and the fact that I made specific promises to him before friends, family and God.

Since all of these separations have happened since we joined the neighborhood, it's obviously something to do with me, right? I mean, is there any other logical explanation??

It just didn't work out

I tried. I really did. I've driven past it a couple of times and told myself that I would go in and look at the potential and the life that could be brought back. I wouldn't be judgmental. Even my husband said he'd try it-that he'd thought about going in before I even said anything. So many bloggers have found abandoned jewels there and shined them up nice and pretty for their homes.

Today, we ventured in. The parking lot was packed. I took that as a good sign. And then we went in. And it was crowded. And half of the people in the building weren't speaking English. I'm used to that in San Diego, not here. We made a bee line (b-line?) to the home goods section. It was full of *junk*. I tried to look beyond the junk for the sparkling jewel but the whining kids and funny, stale smell and people continuously competing for the tiny aisle space that I was in was too much of a distraction.

And so we left. And I felt snobby. The Goodwill and I did not get along. So we took our Pottery Barn tastes and our Target budget elsewhere. Sorry Goodwill. Maybe I'll get over myself and go treasure hunting another day.