Sore Abs, but it's a good thing.

Sometimes you're going through life and you wonder about how things go. Or I wonder. I meet people, we get on, our kids get on, things just seem to work. 2 years ago I made the decision to stay in Texas for a time, for several reasons, in hopes that my nutter husband might snap out of his cult and choose his family, to give our children a chance to cope with American culture/life, to break from the icky pattern my ex and I had gottenourselves into. I could go on and on, I won't, I prefer to be optimistic and move on with life.

Anyway. I stayed. The trade off for the pitiful munber of tears that I shed on the plane ride from Colorado back to Texas, I am not a big crier, the body evidently chooses to release the stress of your husband leaving and going across the ocean in it's own special way. HIVES. So I drank margaritas and cranberry vodkas with my sister and her husband, over time not all in one night. I soaked up the love of my family that had been missing me for years, my dad, my stepmum, my brothers, aunti's and uncles, and cousins, and grandparents too. They were all civil to Nathan should he happen to ring to yell at me about my wickeness, but they heaped the love on me. My family is cool. We're crazy but at least they were polite to him. No more need be said really.

I moved back to the town we lived when we were first married. I had friends there. I met new friends. Specifically track coach family and UPS family. I knew them for the 4 months before the US Federal court and I came to agreement that myself and the children would return to Australia. They emailed, we sent postcards, the kids all talked about one another, Christmas letters were mailed, the friendships survived the distance. Now we're back. The kids go to school together or play soccer together or both.

We headed to dinner tonight. The Potato Shack. Potatoes and ice cream, sums it up. We had our spuds, the kids ate ice cream and we shared history. We laughed like little mindless children without a care in the world. Yes we all have mortgages and phone bills and insurance, yadayada-yada. But we talked and hoo-hawed. The name Beverley will never be the same for me. I hope I never meet her in real life, I am not sure I could contain myself. As it is my abs are painfully sore from so much laughter.

I am glad.

Good friends are fabulous and I left more than a few behind that I miss dearly in Australia, always happy to add to the pool though.