Getting a Grip

This isn’t my life. Okay, it is my life, but not the way I envisioned it would be. 


I wasn’t supposed to be a divorced mother of three when I turned the big 4-0.  Sure, I expected the fine lines, gray hairs and left over baby belly.  What I didn’t expect was expanding our family get-togethers by one… my ex-husband’s new child bride.  Ok, ok, she’s not young.  Maybe.


Did I mention this is not the life I planned? 


It could always be worse, I know. I’m lucky to have a mother who loves to babysit, a best friend who loves sarcasm, and a new friend by the name of Greg who is a child whisperer and tells me my eyes are pretty. 


Sigh… Greg. 


The perfect, Adonis-like God of a man who keeps flirting with me. At least I think he’s flirting with me. It’s been so long, I don’t really know. 


Between birthday parties, a few ill-advised bouts with make-up, and a whole slew of gymnastics classes, it’s finally time to take back some control. 


So, while my girls learn all about how to grip the bar, I’m going to learn how to get a grip on my life.  And maybe my heart.