Lately there has been a lot of talk in the media about Gwyneth Paltrow and the sad event of the “conscious uncoupling” of her marriage.

You know Gwyneth, right?  She’s the one that is kinda famous and has a website?  I read it once in a while.  Most of the time after reading it I slam my laptop shut and say things like, “Well Gwyneth, don’t we all!”  and then I wander off to clean a toilet.

Here’s a graphic organizer I made to help illustrate this:

 

But, there is one area where The Big G and I are bonded like wet Rice Crispies to a toddler’s t-shirt:

This whole “conscious uncoupling” thing?  I totally get it.  And I am going to do it too.

(Dramatic pause)

 

I am separating from my inner Gritch that shows up around 4 pm every heck day.

We love each other.  We do.  But it’s time to move on.

It’s time for some space and time alone.  Or alone without YOU.  That’s better.

It’s time for me to stop acknowledging the Gritchy voice that says things like:

“My boys are impossible.  Laundry is impossible.  Life is impossible.”

“When can I just go to bed? I just give up.”

“This is a total waste of time.”

“You are a horrible mother.  You also have bad hair.”

“You are worthless.”

 

The Gritch shows up at my door, knocks loudly, and I let her in.

And now?  It’s over.  We’re over.  It’s not you, it’s me.  Or something like that.

And we are never, EVER, getting back together. 

 

Did I ever tell you about Taylor Swift and me?