Success Stories (For JAG)

So a comment was made on my last post about how I seem to be dwelling on the failures and mistakes that I have made, when I should be crowing about all my successes. Let me leave you with no doubt - I definitely crow about my successes people. There just seems to be much more humor in the failings - and I am someone that can see the funny, even if it is at my expense. But in the interest of balance, here are my favorite success stories - post Brad.

Buying my Jeep. Now, just to be clear, I am NOT a car girl. I don't like anything to do with it really, and more often than not, I still try to sweet talk my brothers or my dad into changing my oil or my windshield wipers. Also, I have been letting my younger sister Libby 'practice' pumping gas since she was about twelve. Mechanics and I are just not close friends. When Brad and I were together, he always decided on our cars because he was car crazy. The only comment I ever made was that I really like the Jeep Cherokees - but Brad vetoed, and I pretty much forgot about it. Until we split. And he started stealing my brand new Grand Prix from my work and my driveway with the help of these hip, fun (immature, stupid) new friends of his that thought his wife was a real drag. Then I decided why not let him keep it? And the four hundred dollar payment it came with as well. He really didn't think that one through very well. So he ended up with all the car payments on all our vehicles (I admit that I got some joy out of this) and I went out and bought a bright red Jeep Cherokee. Which I still have and love today. I love it so much that when it gets creaky and arthritic, I am just going to buy a new one just like it. Success.

Painting my house. Now even I can admit that taking the house on by myself just so Brad wouldn't move some girl into my old home was mostly error. I have many more fail stories about that than successes. EXCEPT about this. I am a phenomenal painter. Really. My dad is a handy kind of man - and I think that parts of that must be genetic because I really like to paint. Here is the only rule: I need to be painting an actual color. Brad was a huge fan of beige, beige, beige.....we painted our bedroom the softest blue that I think they can make and that was out of his comfort zone. The rest of our house was various colors of tan, paneling, or old lady wallpaper left on from the previous owner - who was, in fact, an old lady. When Brad started fooling around, my sister and I began. We stripped the bathroom wallpaper and rag-rolled lilac on purple everywhere. We replaced the floor and re-finished the countertop. And it didn't stop there. My bedroom went pink with these great billowy, flowery curtain that looked like a rose garden - supremely girly. My kitchen became fire engine red with walnut trim and cupboards. My living room carpet got dragged to the curb so that I could play with the original dark wood floor underneath and then I painted all the walls and old, dark paneling this bright, warm, sunflower yellow. There wasn't a neutral wall left in the entire house and I loved it. It was completely me by the time I was done. Success.

Finding out how to do it all on my own. And here is the secret to this one. I don't really. But I did need to learn how to manage my life when it was only me keeping track of it. Do I still ask for help? Of course! But I don't need a man by my side to make sure that I get it. I have the strongest support system of friends and family that a girl could ask for - and now I am smart enough to ask for help if I am out of my league. Prime example. Yesterday my furnace/boiler (yup I have no idea for sure what is down there - and I'm not ashamed) was acting up and my house was freezing when I woke up. I have no clue why or how to fix it. Before eight in the morning, three people offered up their houses for me to take the babies to for the day. My dad left work to come over and check it out. Another friend called me before lunch to hook me up with a guy who could figure it out for me quickly and with a good deal and offered to call him up for me. My brother got out of work and told me to call him if it didn't work when I got home and he'd come figure it out. On the way home, another friend gave me the name of another good service man who was trustworthy and told me to call him if anything didn't work out and he'd come look at it for me. This is all within the space of about eight hours. I have truly amazing people in my life (Love you all!) and what could have been a huge stressful event became a minor inconvience for the day. A few years ago, this event would have destroyed my whole week - at a minimum. I would have been a basketcase, thinking this was one more example of how my life was broken now without a husband. One more sign that I coudn't do it alone. Looking back, I have such compassion and sympathy for that version of myself - almost like I am looking at just some random person that I wish I could help. It is nice to see how far I am from that place. If I were still with Brad, I would still be that girl. Standing on my own two feet - Success.