I am about to have something new in my life.
No, not anything daring or drastic, like regular sex or a
pet. I am about to have Sundays, twice a
month, to myself. My children are about
to start having overnights with their dad, with him dropping them off at school
on Monday mornings.
In the reality of the world, this does not change much. When I picked them up at 7pm on Sunday nights,
we drove home, I fed them something (they were always hungry, but that is a
different issue), we would read and go over some homework, and before I knew
it, we were brushing teeth and it was bedtime.
Nice, quiet little Sunday ritual that lasted about an hour, including
drive time.
I have to admit, I really liked this bit of time with my
kids. But again, in the reality of the world, it was only an hour, and the
Sunday overnights will only happen 13 times in the next year, once you factor
in all the vacations and holidays. 13. Only
13. Less than two weeks. Doesn’t seem like much.
It had me devastated last week, for a few hours that I did
not hide from my children. Not because I
can’t do math. I had already figured out
the 13 day thing, so that was not the issue.
What had me freaked was that my kids had asked it not to happen, had
appropriately told that to two different counselors and directly to their
father, and none of them, not one, listened one little bit. I could do nothing about it, because no
matter how much I want to be able to write the story of the relationship my
kids get to endure enjoy, I don’t get to.
So no matter how this turns out, I get no say, and the loss
of control has me freaked out. It is the
codependent in me, I know, but freaking out just the same.
In the midst of all this, my ten year old had a total meltdown
of his own. One that almost got him kicked out of a planned event at his care
center. While playing some kind of
basketball related game, something happened that seemed unfair, and my son’s
reaction was to block the kid and then try to trip him. If that wasn’t enough, when the adult leader
caught him, the other kid shut up, and my son got verbally mean to the leader,
and more than a little mouthy.
Sigh.
It took two days for he and I to be able to talk before he
could tell me the whole story without one of us being defensive and more than a
little pissed. When we worked it all
out, he knew that reacting the way he did was not a smart idea, but wanted to
know why some people can do things and get away with them, and when he does
them, he is punished. And more, why no
one bothered to listen to him in the process to find the truth out before the punishment
was handed down.
This is big, and without even having to have a light bulb
moment, he knew that he was angry because adults around him weren’t listening
to him, and that even when he told the truth, nothing really mattered because he
was being forced to comply. He flat-out
said he was sure that talking to adults was a waste of time because his dad and
counselors didn’t listen, and that the one adult who was listening (me) was unable
to make anything happen.
Ouch.
He was right.
So instead, I had to admit to him that I am scared and angry
about all of it, too, and that I feel just as helpless. And together (with the help of his 12-year
old sister), we came up with what we can do to make US better even if we have
to suck it up for now that other people get to make out choices and we have to
comply.
I said I was going to write on Sundays.
I said I was going to miss them like crazy and write
something I could share with them on Monday nights.
I said I was going to come up with a plan to spend the extra
money I was not going to be using on gas to come pick them up and hour each
way. Did they want to help? I was still listening,
even if no one else was. What were they going to do?
This will be new.
I will miss the drive, to tell the truth. I will miss my kids terribly. I will miss the Sunday night ritual and the
bonding. I am putting my faith in the
Universe that we all will survive it, and that, in the reality of the world, it
is only 13 days.
I can only hope that while I am in my reality, theirs will
be okay, too. Maybe I will write about
that on my first Sunday out.
