Saturday, April 9, 2011

Pity party, table of one...

I try really hard not to throw these shindigs for myself. However, I'm smack in the middle of one. I always feel like a jackass when I'm over whatever it is that consumes me and makes me feel sorry for myself. I'm not over it yet, but I do kind of feel like a jackass, so I guess that's a start.

I fell in love with a soldier. No, I fell in love with a man who happened to be a soldier as his career. Was that a mistake? Nope. He's a wonderful. Hilarious, caring, goofy, stubborn, oblivious, loving. He's my baby daddy. He's the Clyde to my Bonnie. But damn if this life isn't difficult. And I chose it. I remind myself that every time darling daughter talks back, every time dear son throws a temper tantrum, every night that I spend alone - I chose this. I also remind myself every time Quinn does something new or masters something and every time Violet succeeds in school that he's missing this. And it makes my heart ache. He's missing it, and I'm witnessing it. Violet's mother isn't experiencing it - I am. And it feels wrong.

Of course, they don't get the whining, crying, pouting, backtalking, hot mess of a preteen I had today, either. Loyd doesn't get to turn on his broken record to keep Quinn out of the trash, the pantry, the laundry, (boy does that kid love to turn the washer and dryer off and on), to keep him from pushing the tv and dishwasher buttons and rearranging the shelves on the fridge that he can reach. They don't have to cancel plans with the only friends in town they have because they know their kids are not able to think straight, much less behave in public.

Does this make me a stronger person? Eh, some might say so. But there are single moms/dads doing this every day. Does it make me wallow? Yeah. I wallow in my loneliness occasionally, like tonight. Is it fair for me to call everyone I know and interrupt their family time? Not really. Do I want to? Oh yes. Will I? No. I know how precious those moments are and how I yearn for them right now. I just don't know why I can't sit back with a beer and watch my dvr'd shows and enjoy not having to check the score or listen to Call of Duty/Gran Turismo 5. I guess as much as that annoys me when he's home, I sure miss it when he's gone.

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