The Hammock

And a reminder to stay off social media on holidays.

Starting a Divorce Club

I took these photos a couple mornings ago but they might as well be from today. I’m even wearing the same clothes.

Each morning since the book arrived, I’ve dragged my new hammock around looking for the shady parts of my yard to read in peace when the kids are at their dad’s. It’s the only time they’ll let me use the hammock. The rest of the time they use it like a swing set and fight over it until someone walks away in tears and it’s time to start showers and books.

I wanted my own hammock so badly that I’ve ordered another one, and soon a third.

Any friends who come over can have their own. Maybe we can sit and read together or sip wine and they can complain about parenting while married, while I can complain about co-parenting while not.

The birds chirp loudly, neighbors dogs bark to be let inside, occasional basketballs are chaotically bounced by someone else’s husband nearby, and someone else’s toddler is crying for someone else’s mom.

I go out again at night and lay there reading until it’s too dark to make out the words, and the sounds of a loud owl are too close for comfort. I hoot hoot back and head inside wishing for the morning shade again.

This isn’t a book I want to share with my married friends. But rather those of you that have been through the kind of experience that leaves you without your little family together as it was in the before days. The book won’t hit the same if you are happily married. So save it to a reading list for another day. Or don’t save it, these kind of books have a way of finding you when you need them most.

And if you’re having a blissfully delightful weekend but also feeling the nagging weight of grief on any social media holiday where little families of four pose together on their weekend trips, large groups of young people gather for BBQs (how can anyone gather that many friends still you wonder?!) and babies wear matching American flag onesies…I see you.

Just buy a hammock, trust me. And you can thank me later.