It’s been a while since I have posted. So much has been going on in my life I don’t even know where to start.
It’s been raining every day, so much that my mood is effected. My emotions have been mixed in the past couple weeks, I don’t know if what I write today will make much sense to anyone. I feel I haven’t been making much sense at all.
Work has been steadily busy, a plus in my book right now because at least I can stay focused when my personal life seems to be full of drama.
I try not to talk too intimately about my personal life, but isn’t that the point of having this online journal? I’m sure I don’t know most of my readers anyway. I wonder if any of them feel like they really know me, if they feel like they can relate to my ramble of unclear thoughts and melodrama.
Today it doesn’t matter. I’m writing to get things off my chest.
I’m feeling sad and gray, matching the sad North West weather that I live in.
My ex husband got into some ‘legal trouble’. He’ll be incarcerated soon. I’m not sure exactly, maybe in about a month or so. I don’t even know where he’s going, only that his sentence is for 2 years.
The best thing that happened in our time together was having our 2 children. They are 11 and 7 years old, my first two children I have, and there is something so very special about each of them.
For some reason he wants me to stick to our current parenting plan, or court order where we have joint custody. This would mean dropping them off at their stepmother’s house while he is in prison. Since we have joint custody, that’s fifty percent of the time, each week, each month, each year.
We’ve battled about the kids before in the past, but nothing nasty or malicous. Feelings have been hurt and there is a level of mistrust but I can say that I know my kids adore their father, and I know he loves them very much.
But I can’t help but wonder why would he think this is a good idea? We live 27 miles away from each other. He proposes they attend a school in his neighborhood, when naturally I plan for them to attend a school in our neighborhood since the courts would assign me temporary full custody until he is released.
So many thoughts go through my head:
Does he really think that’s good for the kids?
I am their mother, they SHOULD be with me.
How will the kids adjust to not seeing their father over time?
Will they rebel, will they be depressed?
I know in my heart I AM THEIR BEST INTEREST.
It hurts to even hear him suggest I drop them off with their stepmom. Granted she is a good woman, and I know there is affinity in their relationship, but will they cry freely with her when the ache of missing their father becomes too much? Will they be able to say in their own words how they feel and share that with her? Will she hold them the way I do and let them fall asleep in her arms if they ask? Would they ask?
Am I not the best person to nurse the wounds of their aching hearts?
It is DRAMA – I know – see what this weather has done to me.
I am supposed to meet him and his wife on Saturday after I drop off the kids. My husband will be with me. But really, this is a discussion about my ex and me, and our kids. Our current spouses are there for support, as flies on the wall that take notes about any exchange that may be misconstrued if it gets ugly.
But I can’t help but wonder, “Why do you bother to ask? Don’t you think I am what’s best for them? Don’t you know you already have 3 kids under 2 years old that your wife needs to attend to? What kind of mother do you think I am?”
I know we’ve changed so much over the years we have been divorced. I am certainly happy that I am not married to the man who committed wire fraud and now has changed the entire course of his future. I am glad I don’t have to question where he was or is coming from. I stopped knowing him months before we even divorced.
But my children I know well – like my own hands, like the lines around my eyes that are apparent now, over months of worrying about how they will handle all this change.
I look at my eyes in the mirror every morning when I wake up, and I wonder if people can see the sadness that I can’t seem to push down anymore. I’ve been able to hide it for a long time because I happen to be a fairly good actress – but this is an affair of the heart – the kind that pulls at my most delicate heart strings.
I picked up my 11 year old daughter from school yesterday. I was so happy to have 30 minutes alone with her during our commute home. It would mean truly focusing on just her, on whatever she wanted to tell me that day, or not. She didn’t have to talk, I just enjoy being with her.
I asked her how her past couple days were since she was at her dad’s house. She told me it has been fine. She said that she didn’t really know how to feel after her dad and stepmom explained that he would be going to jail for a while. In her own words she said, “Mom, I don’t think I drank enough water that day, because I didn’t cry.”
All I could do was tell her that she was strong, and that she handled the news well. She said her brother didn’t really want to talk about it, that he chose to be distracted by other things. That’s how my son is. He isn’t READY to deal with it. He’s only 7. My heart felt a tug when she told me he had no words to share after the news. She simply said, “He’ll talk to you mom. He is closer to you.”
We went to the grocery store to pick up a couple things before going home. At the last minute I decided to buy some white wine. I decided that I wanted to numb some of the dull ache in my chest that I have been feeling for weeks.
It was ‘Breakfast for Dinner” last night and all the kids (I have 4) were delighted to have French Toast for dinner. My husband was cheery and almost done with cooking when we walked through the door.
I sat with the family, poured myself some wine, and stared outside at the pouring rain falling hard onto our deck. I kept thinking, “that’s how I feel inside, heavy and stormy, completely unresolved of my emotions, unending…no warmth or shine in near sight.”
It was so obvious my husband could see and he asked me several times if I was okay.
I just didn’t want to talk about it. I haven’t wanted to talk about it for weeks.
But today I find the words to explain my sadness, and for some reason I feel comfort in being able to type at my keyboard, without editing, or ‘trying to make it better’.
I just want to be human and not hide behind the obvious melancholy state – that I hold in my face, in the way that I walk, in the way that I look at people…
I wish the rain would stop and the clouds would move aside for just a little bit, then maybe I would feel like I can get out of this state. This state of “Why me?”
I don’t like feeling sorry for myself, but honestly, I am sad for me.
This is how I feel today, and tomorrow I pray, it will be different.
