On Wednesday nights, my boys go with their dad.  And by go with him, I mean they spend a couple hours with him.  Sometimes it's dinner.  Sometimes it's just a trip to the library and then dessert.  Last night it was Barnes and Noble and a stop at the gas station for some cheetos and potato chips.  No judging here.  The boys came home elated for having spent some time with their dad, as they always were on those nights.  They were also excited about their cheetos and potato chips. And they were the most excited about the new lego sets they each got from their dad that very same evening.

We got pajamas on and nibbled on their snacks (they shared with me) while we watched a show.  Then it was time for bed.  They brushed their teeth and hopped into bed, ready to cuddle with me for a bit before falling asleep.  

My youngest was out first.  And then out of nowhere my oldest turned to me and said the most unexpected thing.

You never buy us potato chips or lego sets.

What???  Where was this coming from?  I was taken back by his statement to say the very least.  We were cuddling in bed.  He seemed happy to have spent time with his dad and happy to now be spending time with me.  I'm sure he didn't realize the blow he had just made, but I was surprised nonetheless.  The potato chip part was true.  I've never been a big fan of potato chips.  But as for the legos...what the...

I thought about all the things I did for both my kids every day.  The choices I made for them impacting everything from the food they ate to the activities they participated in to the school they were currently attending.  I thought about the beautiful home I alone had created for them and the new friendships in our community that I had worked to build.  I thought about every penny I spent on them compared to how much my Ex spent on them.  I also thought about the money my Ex still owed me.  I thought about the amount of time I had always given my kids verses the time their father was able to give and I wondered if they would ever truly understand the difference.  In a matter of seconds, I thought about all of these things simultaneously and I felt the need to defend my position.

But then I looked at my son and the entire narrative changed.

I explained to my son that there are things that dad does and there are things that mom does. And those things might be different. But it's okay because both mom and dad love him very much.  He seemed to satisfied with that answer or maybe he was just tired and was ready to fall asleep.

Then, because I had resisted the urge to say all the nasty things that first came to mind, I allowed myself to set one thing straight.

I have bought you lego sets.  You just have so many legos you probably don't remember.

I'm pretty sure he was asleep by that point.  But as I walked out of the room, I took a moment to note how nice the view was from the high road.

Back from the Dead

The title of this post has a dual meaning.  Number one, it's been a long time since I've written anything, so hello audience!  Anyone out there still?  Number two, I woke up the other day feeling pretty much like death.  I should've known it was coming.  I had seen the sad watery eyes of my children and understood it was only a matter of time until I was hit.  But knowing it's coming doesn't actually prepare you in any way for the arrival of such a sad state.  So when I woke up that morning, I knew I was F***ed. Thankfully my nanny arrived as planned so I stayed home from work and slept all day.  I woke up around 5 pm to have a sip of chicken soup and utter 2 words to my children.  Even after having slept the whole day, I still felt god awful.  I gave my nanny desperate eyes and she agreed to put my children to bed while I retreated to my room to shiver under a pile of blankets for the rest of the night.  My kids must have known it was bad, too.  Before climbing into my bed that night my eldest actually knocked on my door.  And my youngest waited until almost 3 am to join the party.  Say what you will about co-sleeping, but this was rather considerate behavior for my guys.  I woke up the next day still achy and stuffy but the feeling of death had surpassed.  I was going to be okay!  A normal person would've appreciated this improvement but taken another day to recover.  But as a single mom, I don't always feel like I have an option.  So I went to work.  And I made it through the day successfully!  By the time I got home, I was tired and ready to snuggle with my favorite people.  We had a snack.  We watched a show.  We cuddled and shared stories about our day.  We brushed teeth.  We got into bed.  I was too tired to read or tell a story, all I could offer was a song.  They were both tired too.  They were ready for my song.

Night Night Jack.

Night Night Rory.

Night Night Brothers.

It's time to go to bed.

It was a pretty simple song, but it was our song.  And they both loved it because it magically had their names in it.  Usually I repeated this for them several times until the first child fell asleep.  However on this night, I was only halfway through the 3rd round when I broke off into a coughing spell.  And at that exact moment, the most precious thing happened.  My oldest jumped in and began singing right where I left off.  He didn't miss a beat.  He just kept going in his sweet voice while I was choking away on my cough.  He caught me when I went down.  Pretty amazing, right?  For a 5 year old?  And he looked at me so proud because he knew I needed him in that moment.  

I layed with them a little longer feeling blessed and amazed and so in love with my children.  But more powerful than that, for the first time in a VERY long time, I felt inspired to write.  I wanted to capture this moment.  I wanted to tell my story. I wanted to share with all of you.  At the pace of life these days I don't know when I will get the time or motivation to do this again.  So I hope you enjoyed this read.  And until next time...all the best.