Living and Learning

Last week, I had the new experience of going to court. The not-quite-yet-ex-husband and I had attempted to go to court last month, but they didn't like the way we'd worded things in our separation agreement and sent us away without seeing the judge.

The only good thing about that hiccup was that now I knew exactly where to park, what building to go to, and what courtroom to enter. I also knew I had to get there earlier, because you have to show up BEFORE 9:00 and check in with the clerk. Things went much more smoothly this time around, and I was much more relaxed.

So the judge calls us and the bailiff tells us to stand at these little tables and they have chairs so I'm not sure if I should sit down or not? But we get sworn in and that doesn't seem like an appropriate point to sit, and then the judge is addressing us, so I feel weird sitting, and now it's been too long so I feel weird sitting, so I'm just standing there, trying not to look too awkward. The judge clarifies some more verbiage in the agreement, then she's like, "So you're pregnant."

"Yes."

"And is this gentleman the father?"

"No."

Basically, I'm Hester Prynne, except instead of a scarlet A, I have this giant belly.

Anyhow, unbeknownst to everyone involved, the husband gets default paternity of any kid you pop out while still married. Because of this, once Tater Tot is born, I have to gather all the gentlemen in my life together and fill out three different forms just to assign it to its biological father.

At the end of the day (really, 9:30), the judge granted the divorce and it's official in 4 months.

It was one of those days that I felt like I was starring in a cautionary drama entitled How Not to Live Your Life. Hey, kids! Let's learn about all the ways you can complicate your life by making bad choices!

I've come to terms with the fact that I make (a lot of) (sometimes very big) mistakes, and as I keep moving forward in life there will be more mistakes, and there's no point in dwelling on them beyond seeing what didn't work so I know what to do differently in the future. Until my son invents the time machine, I can't go back and change the past.

And yet - I still feel like a pariah for some reason. So maybe I haven't really come to terms with my mistakes. I guess I'm at some middle ground where I've accepted things for what they are, but it's quite another thing to have your missteps publicly broadcast; the first thing someone sees about you. Like a great big scarlet A.