Come on now! Really? If I hear just one more person say, "God never gives you more than you can handle," I might punch them in the face. OK. Maybe I wouldn't punch them but I'd sure give them the evil eye. I'm just plain old tired of hearing people who are clueless about this journey making comments like that. Trying to keep this house pieced together and the kids from organizing a mutiny have just about pushed me over the edge this week coupled with Eric's visit I just turned to emotional mush. I've had several offers to take the kids but my weariness isn't just a result of today's battles. It's from the realization that this is and will be the rest of my life most likely. As I pondered all of the things I'll need to plan for and handle tonight (and forever - like when do I have to pay HOA dues and what happens if I don't - will they stop leaving me nasty notes if I stop paying them?), Annie began an onslaught of questions. She really hasn't had too much understanding of the whole situation other than Daddy goes away for a while and then comes back and takes her to the park or to go swimming. She simply says that he's "at his house in Texas." She has taken this for granted and she thinks this is normal. (OK, the whole ideal that she thinks this is normal is heart wrenching in itself). However, tonight, she started asking real questions. Hey, for a 2 1/2 year old, they were heavy duty! While we sat on my bed tonight watching Dora, she looked to Eric's side of the bed and grabbed his pillow and said, "Oh no! Daddy's pillow! Daddy, come back and get pillow!" I played that one off and just said he left it because he wanted to share it. I thought I'd diverted her. For heavens sake, her favorite episode of Dora was on! Why couldn't she just watch the dumb show and stop with the questions? Then, she said, "I need Daddy come hold me." I tried to calmly tell her that Daddy was in Texas but she just kept on. If you've never spent time with Annie, she's like a broken record until you give her the answer that she wants to hear. She'll repeat the same thing over and over. I finally got up and went to get a load of laundry started in hopes of avoiding the two year old's taunts to my already wounded heart. When I got back to my room with the laundry that needed to be folded (ok, probably ironed and THEN folded), she was standing in my bathroom with Eric's aftershave. Remember the bottle I used to douse his t-shirt that she sleeps with? Yeah, that one! All she said was, "I need a smell Daddy." Game over. There she was standing in her pjs with her little curls hanging down her cheeks with that white bottle of aftershave. I'm not trying to pull heart strings. I'm not trying to be dramatic. However, that scene will forever be burned into my memory. My emotions jerked between wanting to scream at her that he's gone and cuddling her and just sinking to the floor and crying with her. Thank goodness, my senses snapped into gear and I was able to go with Option B. We just sat there and cried. She put aftershave on her legs and then wanted it on her nose. What the heck. Not like we were wasting it. So, she went to bed happy with Daddy's smell. Like I said last time, I sure wish that aftershave worked for me like it does her! I have a feeling, though, that we'll be doing the aftershave routine every night for a while.
“Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes.
That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes.”
That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes.”
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