Stanley and I had a co-parenting sort of weekend.
It was awesome other than the fact that I am a bit sick. I have had a sore throat since the middle of last week and it sort of progressed and now I think I have a sinus infection. My weekends away from the kids, especially when I am not going to see my lovah, are long and I generally get depressed and spend most of the time feeling like I made a huge mistake with my divorce because I miss my kids and want to be with them all the time. Feeling sorry about my divorce is very rarely about missing my ex-husband or anything about our relationship. It is always about the kids.
Which is kind of pitiful when you think about it.
Jumping Bean had a huge choir festival on Friday afternoon at 5. She had to audition for this ‘all state’ choir which was separate from her regular choir. They learned the soprano parts of the songs then met at the festival and practiced with 24 other elementary and middle schools (who learned other parts) and all sang the songs together for a concert. It was a mob scene (parents and families from 24 schools!) but awesome to see the diversity from kids all over this part of the state. It was really great and I teared up several times just because it was so sweet and I was proud we could sit and support JB all together. Stanley was coming on nest duty at 5 so I took the other kids down and we met him there. We all sat together and then went out for dinner after with another family. He had asked me earlier in the week if I would keep the kids on Saturday morning since he had a ‘beer event’ early and extended an invitation that I sleep in my room. YES. So, after dinner Friday I went to my room and shut the door. AWESOME. When I got up on Saturday morning he was gone. I did kids until he got back at 2, and then I left and went to the crash pad. I had a long quiet evening of Sucrets, hot tea and Ibuprofen and then came back to the nest at 9 a.m. Sunday. He had agreed to provide some Home Brew for our upcoming silent auction and I agreed to do kids while he brewed. He came in and out throughout the day and afternoon and it was fine.
We have done much better since our coffee talk.
It definitely cleared the air. Also, I think realizing that he still has anger toward me but really does want to keep the kids stable has helped me understand where he is coming from. In addition, in the midst of all of this coming and going this weekend, we had to come together to parent. AARGH.
The Boy was easier at 3 than at 13.
I’m missing the little boy who loved Bar Bar.
|Yes, he was Barney for Halloween one year.|
Stanley pulled in to the driveway on Saturday in the bright sunlight and came in livid. He asked if I had seen what was written on the fence. Ummm, no. Well, how about some nice graffiti,
Well… Last week, he asked if a friend could come over after school. His best friend is the child of one of my best friends. Neither of these kids would have done this separately, but together they are bad stoopid. In his defense, he did come in when the other kid was still outside and I could tell he was upset about something, but he didn’t volunteer anything and I had no idea but knew something was up. Apparently, The Boy tried to fix the ‘FUCK’ that was originally written on the fence, in spray adhesive purchased for their science fair project, and turned it into POCK. The letters were about 2 feet high and clearly visible from the street. I was glad Stanley and I were both here to handle it. I called my friend and told her what the boys had done and that the fence had to be power washed and the boys punished.
Oh and it solved the little problem of the Airsoft Gun as well. He has still been
working on me for that thing and now…
I got to say the words,
“You can’t be trusted with spray adhesive and
you think I’m going to buy you gun?”
Stanley was nodding beside me. We got the fence cleaned and the boy punished and then he left and I am back on, just the way I like it. Now, if only I could get well. I am going to the Urgent Care Clinic after Jumping Bean’s appointment for her ADHD med recheck.
Al has had similar parenting woes this weekend but his kid is 18.
I don’t know when it gets easier. Maybe never. Because I know how my parents worry about me still and I am nearly 50. Archie would probably ground me for my divorce if he could.
I keep thinking of how I had no idea what I was in for when I
got all broody and started thinking of babies.
Babies are cute.
13 year-olds are less cute.
18 year-olds are only slightly cute, at times.
48 year-olds are probably not cute at all.
Parenting is for the birds.
But when I am not with them I am miserable.
It is a great gift and a great challenge.
But I’m not alone in it.
Thank you, Stanley, for co-parenting.