This Is What Denial Looks Like

The ex is taking Ben to Italy. They are leaving on Wednesday. First thing in the morning. Basically in two days.

I have known about the trip for months. I have also known that in order for the ex to take the child out of the country, the mother needs to provide her consent by providing a letter, a notarized letter, with said ex.

So here we are two days before the departure date. Have I written the letter yet? N - O. Have I done a search on notaries in my area? N - O. Have I looked at my schedule to figure out when I can cram a mid-day notary appointment in? I think you know the answer.

Every time I think about Ben jetting off to Italy, I get sad. I'm not thinking about how much he'll enjoy eating daily gellato with his dad (which has been promised over and over), nor am I thinking about how his little eyes will get very big when he sees the actual Sistine Chapel, which he made a replica of last year. In Kindergarten. But I digress.

In all honestly, the thought of Ben being on the other side of the world for nine whole days is making me feel like a displaced mom. And I'm using this forum to admit that because I think it's an important step in the whole process of embracing single parenting. Blah, blah, blah.

To counteract those oh-so-crappy feelings about the imminent Italian adventure, I decided to make a list of all the things I want to do while Ben is away. I started the list and was actually enjoying the direction it was taking: purge the toys, separate the business and the household files, frame prints, organize the photos from last year, watch hours of "Californication," cleanse my soul from hours of "Californication" by tackling the growing stack of literary gems I'm collecting, pen my own memoir, landscape the 1/4 acre backyard. You get the idea.

I distilled the list down to a few basic tasks: cleaning the car and cleaning the closets. Maybe the garage, too. Then I realized that I still hadn't written the damn letter.

If the letter doesn't get written, then nothing's gonna get done around here and Ben won't get his daily gellato and I won't get some extravagant gift (Italian boots, maybe?) from my ex. I think I'm motivated now.

Ciao.