From the Mouths of Babes

7yo: “You have spider web hair”

5yo: “No she doesn’t!! She has nice old woman hair.”

Me: hobbles off to retirement home…

The Least Recommended Way to Spend a Sunday Afternoon

Randy and I got the kids a basketball hoop.

The instructions looks like this:

20130317 1548461 The Least Recommended Way to Spend a Sunday Afternoon

The boys have seriously overestimated our ability to assemble it quickly.

20130317 153658 The Least Recommended Way to Spend a Sunday Afternoon

*Update*
All done. (My husband is amazing.)

20130317 1920022 The Least Recommended Way to Spend a Sunday Afternoon

Just Like High School (almost)

I had bright purple streaks added to my hair today. Curious how long it will take the kids to notice (“Mom and her wild ideas…”) and then to ask for some of their own.

20130220 145411 Just Like High School (almost)

Wrapping Our Heads Around Another New Reality

4 kidz w500 h1000 Wrapping Our Heads Around Another New Reality

This week, the kids are at their bio-dad’s. It’s their first long visit since last December; only their 3rd visit in that time.

The past two years, visits have been very few and far-between, but recently, he has decided to get them one weekend a month, two weeks in the summer, and a couple of other times during the year.

It’s all been very stressful. When he wasn’t seeing them regularly (and for a long while, not calling) there was a certain mindset I had to go into, in order to shield the children from the reality of the situation. They, too, had to try to make sense of the things that they were aware of, and how things went when they did visit him. They met many different girlfriends/fiancees during that time, and stayed at different places; all very confusing.

But, they adjusted, and coped rather well with the absence. They’ve always been good about asking questions and they asked a lot of them:

Why didn’t he call… again?
Why didn’t he come down for a weekend, when he promised he would?
Why doesn’t he write letters back?

You know, the stuff that screws with anyone, but especially a child.

Every situation is different, and so is every parent/child relationship. Our children want to know things and will drill down to get to the answer. They also know when you are bullshitting them. So, while I haven’t divulged every detail, I haven’t lied and I didn’t sugar-coat what I did tell did them.

Having their reality explained to them in terms that they can grasp, while also knowing, without a doubt, that they are safe, secure and loved, has been a healing balm for them.

We moved forward and created a new normal. One with an absentee father. Because we had too.

But now, we are having to adjust. Again. And it’s been difficult for all of us, because, once again, we are having to wrap our heads around a new reality for them. For our family.

I still feel the need to protect them, and be on guard.

I am, cautiously, thankful that they will now have (*fingers crossed*) regular visits with him.

I am nervous that he will slip back into his old ways, but praying he doesn’t.

I am amazed by the resiliency of children.

*holding breath*

Just Write

This blog is my spot for sifting through my deeper, not-always-pretty thoughts. For the less gritty version of me, be sure to check out my other site: Living The Life Fantastic, where I blog about how we’ve been happily moving forward.

No Words

Sunday afternoon, in the middle of working. Out of nowhere, a pounding on the door. Not an “Open-the-door-I-need-help!!” sort of pounding.

No. This is a pissed off pounding.

The door is opened and there she stands. Her voice seems calm.

But her eyes deceive her, and she is angry. She wants answers, but the answers don’t matter. Her words might have been the right words, but she feels wronged and is vomiting her attitude. She smirks without hearing, saying we are dishonest and ridiculous.

Over what?

A yard. Our yard.

It’s been torn up and no one is allowed to play in it for another month. Not our kids. Not hers.

But she’s not buying it.

She stomps back (through our yard), and her words are left hanging in the air.

Stinging, stagnant and ugly.

 

(linked up at Extraordinary Ordinary for Just Write)