It is always hard when i pick up the kids on monday. The transition from house to house. The emotions.
They always greet me with such enthusiasm. Kisses and love. It rejuvenates me.
I am always exhausted on monday mornings. Having done nothing but work since the moment i drop them off on friday. This weekend it was almost sixty hours of work. A long weekend full of busy restaurants. Families celebrating time together. Remembering loved ones and families lost in battle.
A weekend full of customers wanting to talk, to share their experiences. It is nice to be a part of this theatre. The theatre of dining. I go home and fall into bed. Dreaming of soldiers and children. Nightmares about slow service in the bistro. Spilling soup on clean clothes.
Then i pick up the kids and i want to give them everything i have. But, i have so little. Totally body exhaustion takes over. I find myself face down on the floor. Sound asleep while they play around me. And then begins the crazy week of school and playdates and activities and working still.
It is hard, merging these two lives i have now. Doing it alone. Wanting to share with someone how incredibly tired i am. Someone to help. Someone to tell me it's all going just fine.
I have very little today.
I signed my separation agreement yesterday.
Tonight i burned my copy in the fire.
It is only money.
It is the end of a life.
I threw my wedding ring in too.
Th problem with having the kids monday to friday is that my time with them is wrapped up in school, activities and playdates. We never get to *really* spend time together.
This morning we declared family day.
After waking up groggy we headed back to bed. Parker, eliza and toby began a quiet game in their rooms and tristan and i settled back in for a two hour snooze. Smiling at each other through the doorway. It was the most relaxing morning i've had in a long time.
This working ten shifts a week is starting to wear me down.
We went out for brunch and bought some new clothes for the kids. Trying to build up their wardrobes at my house. Toby has decided that track pants are his friend which is fine by me as they are only $8 per pair. Tristan and eliza are bonding over clothes and beading. Sharing a room is helping them to finally forge a sisterly bond. Parker refused to even look at clothes and then had a minor spaz in the car on the way home because he didn't get any. That boy. He is as difficult as ever. The temper of a grown man stuck in traffic.
I forgive him though. I was the youngest of four too. I understand how difficult it can be.
I am getting ready for my evening work. The kids and i snuggled on the couch, warmed by the wood stove. Not a single complaint about a babysitter tonight.
It was a good day.
I'm thinking a lot about this independent woman thing.
Overrated?
Underrated?
It's all about the day.
Sometimes i feel so proud of my accomplishments. Paying the bills. Feeding the kids. Managing it all. All on my own steam.
Other times i feel so lonely. When i'm in line at the grocery store. $87 in tips in my pocket. $87 to my name. Trying my best to navigate the mathematics of produce while wrangling four kids. Bill coming out to $113. Trying the bank card. Crossing my fingers that it will go through.
Of course, it doesn't. Picking out things to take out. Inevitably they are my things. Some tea. Some coffee. Some cream – useless without coffee. Getting the bill back down. The man behind me looking annoyed, yet sympathetic. Or looking at me like i am pathetic. A failure.
At work, so hungry. Serving all the food. It smells so good. Knowing that if i buy lunch, i'll have less tips. Holding out for some free scraps at the end of the day. A little salad. A few potatoes.
It can be such a lame life.
It can be such an inspiring life.
I'm in love with this man. His words. His voice. His music. Even the beard.
In the restaurant last night we had a mom and dad in with their young teenage son. He went to a local fancy pants boarding school. He was sweet and polite. And obviously gay. Or well on his way to being so. I suspect he already knew so. I'm so impressed with the world today that kids, although it must be incredibly hard, are able to come out as gay while they are still young. While they are going through those already rough years of teenship.
To me it speaks to a future that might be a little kindler and gentler.
As dinner was ending the conversation got a little intense. Mom and dad on one side of the table and tender-hearted son on the other. We overheard little snippets of conversation; "so do you have a girlfriend yet?"
"That's not my son."
As dessert was prepared we noticed young son crying. Dad waving his finger heatedly. Mom nodding in agreement. To be fair i really had no idea what was going on. But, i felt so sick inside. I wanted to pick up the young son. Save him from the torment in such a public place. I could feel the big ball in his throat. I could remember the identical feelings.
I was enraged. With no way to help. Instead i have just let it bother me for days.
