Tag: divorce

Sitting in your kindergartener’s chair may require an extraction

image It’s time for this week’s installment of Post Traumatic Sunday, which are posts written during my first marriage. None have appeared on this blog before, and only a couple were included in my book. What these posts aren’t about is venting or vindictiveness.

So what’s the point?

Simply to offer the reflections of someone dealing with an unhappy marriage in the best way he knew how: with humor.

Eight years later, I am happily re-married to someone who constantly inspires me to laugh for the right reasons.

Now, we can all laugh together…

* * * * * * * *

Though it had been five years since our daughter’s first parent/teacher conference, my wife and I felt the same familiar anxiety as we entered our son’s kindergarten classroom, sat across from his teacher, and realized:

Neither of us is getting out of our tiny chair without having it surgically removed. Continue reading Sitting in your kindergartener’s chair may require an extraction

If the jeans fit, wear them (until your legs go numb)

image Welcome to this week’s installment of Post Traumatic Sunday, which are posts written during my first marriage. None have appeared on this blog before, and only a couple were included in my book. These posts aren’t about venting or vindictiveness as much as they are about reflecting someone dealing with an unhappy marriage in the best way he knew how: Through humor.

Eight years later, I am happily re-married to someone who constantly inspires me to laugh for the right reasons.

Now, we can all laugh together…

* * * * * * * *

I have a favorite pair of jeans I refuse to give up, and which, over the last few years, my wife has attempted to eradicate on six different occasions. She hates these jeans because, according to her, they are “ripped, frayed and embarrassing.” Particularly when I forget to change them before going out somewhere in public, such as our front yard. Her attempts to get rid of my jeans have escalated from them being “lost,” to an incident last week in which she claimed my jeans “spontaneously combusted,” forcing her to put out the flames with the nearest extinguishing device: A meat cleaver. Continue reading If the jeans fit, wear them (until your legs go numb)

Family travel is easy with the help of a licensed forklift operator

image Welcome to another installment of Post Traumatic Sunday, which are posts written during my first marriage. None have appeared on this blog before, and only a couple were included in my book. These posts aren’t about venting or vindictiveness; I was just someone dealing with an unhappy marriage in the best way I knew how: Through humor.

Eight years later, I am happily re-married to someone who constantly inspires me to laugh for the right reasons.

Now we can all laugh together…

* * * * * * * *

This morning, we left on a family vacation with our two children, four train tickets to Seattle, and approximately 700 pounds of luggage. This is a conservative estimate based on my wife’s meticulous packing strategy, which means bringing anything that doesn’t require the help of a licensed forklift operator. My wife says that we have a responsibility to our children to be prepared for all situations. Apparently, this includes any sudden shift in the Earth’s core temperature that would render our entire summer wardrobe useless. For example: Our daughter’s clothing options include both a full-length fleece parka AND two-piece bikini, with a choice of sandals, tennis shoes or mud boots. Continue reading Family travel is easy with the help of a licensed forklift operator

Static in your marriage can lead to poor TV reception

image It’s time for another exciting edition of Post Traumatic Sunday, which are posts written during my first marriage. None have appeared on this blog before, and only a couple were included in my book. Please understand that this is not about venting or vindictiveness; I was simply someone dealing with an unhappy marriage in the best way I knew how: Through humor.

Eight years later, I am happily re-married (ridiculously so) and constantly inspired to laugh for the right reasons.

Now we can all laugh together…

* * * * * * * *

After getting the kids to bed last night, my wife and I settled onto the couch for some much-needed down time only to find that our television was having transmission problems — beginning with the remote. My wife is the only one in our family qualified to operate it. Being a male, the longer I fool with it the further I revert along the evolutionary scale, until I’m reduced to beating the remote on the coffee table like a chimp trying to open a Super Ball. Continue reading Static in your marriage can lead to poor TV reception

A woman’s ability to remember is only equalled by… oh heck, I forget

image It’s time for this week’s edition of Post Traumatic Sunday, which are posts involving my ex-wife. None of them have appeared on this blog before, and only a couple were included in my book. Though none of these posts will be mean-spirited or vindictive, I was someone doing his best to deal with an unhappy marriage through humor.

Eight years later, I am happily re-married (my friends are sick of hearing about it, actually) and constantly inspired to laugh for the right reasons.

Now we can laugh together…

* * * * * * * *

Thanks to an exciting discovery published by the National Academy of Sciences, we’re one step closer to understanding an important, fundamental difference between men and women — which is that women have better memories, particularly when it comes to remembering why they’re mad at their husbands.

This earth-shattering discovery was made by psychology professors at Stony Brook University in New York, the same university that brought us groundbreaking data on the yawning habits of the domesticated yak. Continue reading A woman’s ability to remember is only equalled by… oh heck, I forget

Who knew navigating heavy traffic meant being in the right hemisphere?

image Welcome to this week’s edition of Post Traumatic Sunday, which are all posts involving my ex-wife. None of them have appeared on this blog before, and only a couple were included in my book. Though none of these posts will be mean-spirited or vindictive, it’s easy to recognize I was someone coping with an unhappy marriage through humor. Eight years later, I am happily re-married (ridiculously so) and inspired to write — and laugh — for the right reasons.

Finally, we can all laugh together…

* * * * * *

It’s a well-known fact that men and women think differently. This is because of the right and left hemispheres of the brain. While women tend to rely on the more creative, right hemisphere of the brain, which is responsible for verbal skills and abstract thoughts, men favor the more technical left side of the brain, which is mainly reserved for thoughts of sports and beer. Continue reading Who knew navigating heavy traffic meant being in the right hemisphere?

Choosing room colors with your spouse? Start with neutral corners

image For those who were expecting to find my weekly Flashback Sunday this morning, I apologize if, by not being here, it has upset you. Or possibly the space-time continuum — in which case we’ll all be upset soon enough. But just like my missing assignment in Mrs. Flunkem’s fifth-grade class, I have a good excuse. Although this one doesn’t include a vortex swallowing my homework and several of my socks (which I figured my Mom could attest to as a way to bolster my story [And no, it didn’t work]). The reason for this morning’s absence of Flashback Sunday isn’t really an excuse as much as a decision to take this feature in a new direction I’m calling:

Post Traumatic Sunday. Continue reading Choosing room colors with your spouse? Start with neutral corners

One of the biggest mistakes in my life? The time I quit writing

image Hello and welcome to what Modern Blogger Magazine has called “The Most Popular Weekly Feature on the Internet, at least on Fridays, for sites named Ned’s Blog, and not counting porn sites with the same name.” I’m obviously VERY excited about this distinction! Although, not being one of those sites, my excitement is a little more discreet. Not to say my excitement isn’t enormous! It’s actually huge!

Wait… this isn’t coming out right at all. I just mean that if you could see me right now, you’d know I’m very happy… DANG IT! I’m going to quit while I’m a head.

Anyway, for those who might be visiting for the first time, assuming you are still reading after that opening, my Nickel’s Worth on Writing is that day each week when I take insights gained through 15 years as a newspaper columnist and offer them up, much like a sampler platter at Applebee’s, except without one of those mysterious extra crispy French fries mixed in with your chicken strips. In fact, my NWOW has been mentioned by best-selling author John Grisham as “The first place I go when I need ideas for new lawsuit stories.”

High praise indeed! But enough with the accolades! Continue reading One of the biggest mistakes in my life? The time I quit writing

Self-aware leftovers: The forgotten victims of divorce

[A quick note about this post: Over the years, my wife has mentioned that this column — which I wrote after my divorce 10 years ago — is one of her favorites. It’s also the first column of mine that she read. And yet, she still went out with me…]

_DSC0009 copy There’s nothing funny about divorce. At least, not until you have time to gain some perspective and accept the fact that staying up until 2 a.m. reconfiguring the salt and pepper shakers on your dining room table is just part of the healing process.

Like vacuuming the kitchen tile and mopping the living room carpet.

Or getting excited over having extra closet space while at the same time avoiding that space as much as possible.

After a few months, I suddenly turned around and realized I had moved forward. As strange as it sounds, I think it started the day I threw away the last of the leftovers from when my ex-wife and I were still together.

Granted, they had been in there for quite a while already. Possibly even as far back as Cinco de Mayo, though I couldn’t be sure since the contents appeared to be a member of an unidentified fifth food group. Continue reading Self-aware leftovers: The forgotten victims of divorce