I have never been good at keeping up with a blog. Even though I enjoy getting my thoughts out onto the page, I enjoy typing the words out of my soul and getting them somewhere other than my crowded brain...it just seems to elude me--the regularity of it, that is. I am going to try it again, though. Wish me luck.
My children, my life, my sweet little girls, the loves of my life....are leaving for 8 days tomorrow afternoon. They are going to spend these 8 days with their father, with whom they visit with about twice a year. Perhaps a few more short trips but this is the second "week long" trip. The last was Christmas--they about killed me. CHRISTMAS! That is my time! I deserved that! I take care of them all day and night, all week, all month, every boo boo and tear, every homework assignment and arguement, every cuddle and every sickness. I GET TO BE SANTA, he doesn't! Pshaw! (ok, rant over! LOL)
Anyway, The Father that has paid child support for all of about one year (owing approximately 20k in arrears), calls almost every Tuesday to speak with them for about 2 minutes. Totally uninvolved. He loves them very much, this I do know, but he isn't invested in them. In the minutiae that is raising a child. He is the epitome of "Disneyland dad" and it sucks. They have a father here, in the flesh, who has been raising them for the past 5 years. Who they love, who they call Daddy, who they are very much aware of as they one who "takes care of them". He is the one whose pay check goes to buy them clothes and food and eveything else they need. Whose helps puts them to bed each night and loves them when they need him. This is the man who taught them to ride a bike, who plays games with them, who takes care of them on so many levels--as a father should. They do not remember a time without him. Sometimes, and I know this is an evil thought, I wish HE (the "real" Dad) would just go away. Disappear. What a funny term, eh? REAL DAD? Stevan IS THEIR REAL DAD! Not their biological Dad, no the sperm donor, but HE IS REAL. He is HERE. He is INVOLVED AND INVESTED.
I just wish the other could go away. So they could have just one Dad, and not be so confused and upset when they get home from their DisneyLandVacation with their "real" Dad. It is so complicated and it hurts them. It twists them up inside. It upsets them when they love Stevan more, or call him Daddy, or forget to call "real dad" on Father's Day and go out of their way to make it special for Stevan. They are too little to have to deal with this crap!!! I wish it could be simple.
Bottom line...He needs to either step up and be more involved with them, emotionally and financially, or let them have the Dad that does do that and step to the side. I know that would suck, and I feel for him, but the decision needs to be made.
I miss them already. An ache inside me. It is rather ironic, actually...since I often long for "me" time. Time without being jumped on, disciplining kids, feeding kids, clothing kids, cleaning up after kids, etc, etc, etc....(they stuff he never has to do) but now that they are going to be gone I wonder what I will do with myself without them. I need them. I need their little souls near me, the love I have for them and they for me--it is such a connection that I feel the severing of it even when they are 300 miles away for 8 days. I want the time to spend with my husband and just hang out, but I will spend every second of it missing them like crazy and worrying that they are being taken care of they way I would take care of them, loved the way they need to be.
And, to be totally honest here, I worry that they won't miss me, that they will have so much fun doing all the fun stuff, having what he calls "no rules time" staying up late, eating junk food, and doing all the fun things I cannot afford because all our money goes to rent and food and the like....well, that they will want to be with him more than with me. They are too young to understand the intricacies of it all. Ahhh, Jealousy, the green monster. An ugly thing. I recognize it, I try to deal with it. I will survive it and I will try to feel less of it. I will try. I really will. I will miss them. But hopefully I will allow myself to have a little me time and let what will be, be.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
I am going to try and keep up a regular blog again, for myself, for whatever reasons may come along. I love to read others words, and maybe some of my own words will touch someone else as so many others have touched me. Who knows, I may give up tomorrow, or next week, or next month, but for now I am going to try and be regular--at least once a week, and get my feelings out. No subject, really, just my life...what a long strange trip it is....
My Mama on her wedding day. I was with her that day, she was 4 months pregnant. <3
Sometimes I feel haunted, but not in the way I wish I was. I am haunted by the fact that my Mama is gone, forever, and I will never see her again. Hear her laugh again. Hold her again. That I was not at her side when she passed--as she wished. She was so scared to die, and I was her best friend and the person she trusted most--she made me promise to stay by her side. And I didn't get there in time. I hate myself for that, altho I know she would never hold it against me, she knew I couldn't get there and she loves me anyway--it is my own guilt I am haunted by as well.
I miss her so very much, that if I think of it, or write about it as I am doing now, it damn near consumes me. I feel it taking over. The tears start, and the hole in my heart grows bigger and bigger. The only way I can go on without her, without this hole enveloping me all together, is to not think of her. And that makes me so sad. I want to be able to think of her and have happy memories, talk to my children about her, think of her and talk to her when I need a friend to lean on. I want to feel her presence and remember her in that way, but it eludes me. Instead I have to focus on not thinking of her, not remembering her, or I would spend each day in a haze of depression, and that wouldn't be good for anyone.
I told my therapist I thought this probably wasn't a good way to grieve, that I was in denial of sorts, and that should I force myself to think of it, go thru the pain each and every day and see if it got better? She said no. She said she thought I was dealing with it well, that this was how I was going on with my life, and when I was ready, I would be able to do it in a different (better?) way.
Who knows. But I am sad thinking of her, so I am going to stop.