Eleven years ago, Jason and I got hitched for better or worse in the Hillsborough courthouse in front of a jail cell by one Mr. Cleatus A. Marmaduke III.   He had bug eyes, wore a blue and white checked polyester suit and moved and talked like he existed in a vat of molasses (pronounced MOE-lasses for you uninitiated).    One of our witnesses made the comment that the setting and the justice of the peace looked like something out of a bad Southern movie you’d find on Lifetime.   I was roughly three months pregnant and our latest prenatal tests had come back iffy.   Jason had better health insurance and we had a big church wedding on the horizon, something I absolutely did not want, so the JOP ceremony gave me the wedding I desired and took care of the health insurance issues in one fell swoop.

The next day, after a lovely lunch at the Carolina Club and a night spent consuming room service, watching movies and going to bed early at the Carolina Inn, Jason and I checked into UNC.   The next day all our fears were allayed.   The bean that would later emerge as Evelyn Drue Gloege was fine.  The tests were false positives and she was happy and well.  I spent the next two years angry, feeling as if my hand had been cosmically forced.  I won’t even get into the insanity that was the church wedding.  I can sum it up in seven words:  spent my wedding night in the hospital.   By the way, if you ever want immediate attention in a hospital, go there with bird seed in your hair.    After it spills all over the front desk while you’re signing in, they will take you back immediately and give you drugs.    Think of this tip as my gift to you.

Read it again, Daddy

By Drue’s first birthday, Jason and I were separated.   We tried, tried again that fall, moving to Cleveland for a fresh start.   By 2001, the marriage was over, and Jason and I knew it.   We lived together initially for financial reasons and then out of convenience until 2004 when we moved back to North Carolina and into separate residences.  In 2005, we finally got divorced.    Divorce can be a good and beautiful thing.   With divorce comes closure and a real sense of freedom.  I won’t speak for Jason but marriage felt a little like a prison sentence.   Because we were together while not being, you know, together for almost four years since separating, we were forced to communicate.    I saw a few lawyers who could not get past the fact that I did not want alimony before going to the courthouse and getting three forms:  How to Get a Divorce in North Carolina, Filing or a Divorce in North Carolina and a pamphlet going over child custody laws.    I downloaded the North Carolina forms for filing for divorce and custody and started going through the checklist.   We filed for separation, filed for joint custody, split our assets over three bottles of wine and a pizza one Saturday night and in 90 days we were legally done.    On the day of our divorce, June 27, 2005, we went into the courthouse together.

Nom, nom, nom! Jason channels Cookie Monster

While waiting for our moment before the judge, we sat back and watched a Jerry Springer moment when the couple before us showed up with their new significant others.  I’m pretty sure if someone wrote an etiquette book on getting divorced, the first sentence would be “Whatever you do, do not show up for your court appearance with your new significant other!”   Even if everyone is okay with it, it’s still bad form, you know?      It took two minutes and seventeen seconds for Jason and I to get married and fifteen minutes flat to get divorced.   The judge complimented us on our ability to communicate and civility, stating he wished all divorcees were as amenable.   We went downstairs, paid our money and got our papers stamped and we left.   We had lunch and laughed about some of the better (read, crazier) moments of the last six years and then went to work.

Silly antics at the baseball game

From late 2004 until September 2006, Jason and I were a normal divorced couple.  We lived in separate residences, shared custody of Drue, dated other people and, for the most part, lived separate lives.  Sure, we went to Drue’s soccer games together, often snagging brunch after, had Sunday dinner together every other week and spent holidays together.    We quickly realized that we did not want to miss special moments and events with Drue so we decided to spend that time together.  We weren’t a conventional family by any means but we’re still a family.    In 2006, I was transferred to the DC office and Drue and I moved to Fairfax.  Jason quit his job two months later and followed us up here.   Jason moved into my townhouse, a smart financial move since DC is more expensive than the Raleigh-Durham area.    Living together was supposed to be a short-term arrangement.  Three years later, we’re still sharing a house.

A wink and a smile

Marriage is a huge commitment and a tremendous amount of work and something I suspect I am not very good at.   While I am able to embrace my inner Martha Stewart and get dinner made and on the table by 6:30 sharp, I am not very good at being a “wife”.    I certainly did not grasp the enormity of “for better or worse” but in my defense I was trying not to stare at Mr. Marmaduke’s eyes or his suit during the brief JOP ceremony.    Having a child is also a huge commitment and a tremendous amount of work, but that is something that I – and Jason – are very good at and we are entirely committed to co-parenting her and give her the best childhood possible.    While we did not have the best marriage, we have an incredibly good divorce and while this current partnership is finite – Drue will be eighteen and in college in less than eight years – the friendship we have is not.   And ultimately, while our commitment to each other waxed and waned and ultimately failed very quickly out of the starting gate, our commitment to Drue and to our friendship has grown stronger each passing year.  That’s something I’m very proud of and something that a lot of couples – married or divorced – have to work at to achieve.     The fact that we’re already there and that Drue reaps the benefit of it, makes any anguish or horrible moments over the last eleven years totally worth it.

Cheesy grin and spirit fingles

The last eleven years have been many things – wild, crazy, insane, awesome, amazing, horrible, out-of-control, fun – they have not been boring by any stretch of the imagination. And while it hasn’t always been easy, I have to say I wouldn’t change a single moment.   I’m a day late and a dollar short (but really, I wouldn’t be ME if I was on time!) but Happy Un-aversary, Jays!    You’re an amazing dad, a good friend and someone who has managed to put up with all my bullshit for the last eleven years and one day (eleven years, five months and three weeks if we’re talking semantics) and I’m grateful for it!

Now, let’s go snag some Vietnamese and celebrate, shall we??