Okay, so...

Yeah, the last few weeks have been pretty much nothing but a bitchfest about Tom.

I know.

And...there are still somethings about which I'm frustrated.

But...

Last night when the girls and I rolled into the driveway at 6:30 (we spent some extra time at my mom's. Olivia wanted to stay naked a little longer.) he was there, installing a storm door on the front entrance into the house.

And he'd bought a remote to the garage door opener.

Maybe I'm having a good day but I realized today that he's taking care of in his own way. He's doing what he can to make sure his family is safe and warm and cared for.

Sure, my emotional well-being isn't always priority, but I really think he doesn't even realize that.

A friend asked me recently if I didn't think I deserve better.

Hmmmm...

Do I? Don't we all, to some extent? Heck, Tom probably deserves better than me. At least, to his thinking. He probably deserves a wife who takes better care of herself physically. He probably deserves a wife who is a better housekeeper. He probably deserves a wife who cooks better.

And the girls...they deserve a mother who doesn't yell so often. A father who is around more. A mother who does crafts and cooks and plays Barbies.

But we're in this together, Tom and girls and I. We're a family and to be honest, I like our little family, even if I would like it very much if Tom's presence in the house weren't so much of an event that it turns the girls into maniacs who can't be calmed for hours.

We'll keep muddling through, making the best of each other and this life we're living. In the end, we're pretty darned lucky to have each other. I have to believe that.

Shadows

Yesterday afternoon, Olivia had found a nice long beam of sunlight coming through one of my mom's kitchen windows and was dancing with her shadow.

Every few minutes, someone would step across her beam of light and disrupt her choreography and she'd whine or grunt at them, letting the perpetrator know of her frustration with them.

Alyssa discovered O's dance floor and tried to take over, standing just behind Olivia in the light, taking away her shadow.

This did not sit well with Olivia. She tried to push her sister out of the way, but a 32 pounder doesn't have much power against someone who weighs 57 pounds.

I stepped in and told Alyssa to go find her own sunlight in which to play.

I know. The stupid things we say to our children.

But my girls have always enjoyed shadow dancing.

When Alyssa was about two years old, she announced to my mom one day, "Grammy look! My shadow thinks I'm big!"

My mom loves to tell that story. She thinks it's one of the most clever things she's ever heard.

There have been a lot of shadows these days.

But watching Olivia dancing in that sunbeam, seeing her and Alyssa fight over the warmth and glow of the light reminded me that there can't be shadows without light.

And when I see a shadow looming, I need to remember to turn and seek out the light that is making the shadow possible.

My world is a good one.

Sure, I'm bogged down with the day to day stuff, but I wouldn't trade my day to day with anyone in the world. Even if Tom were to offer to trade with me, I might take him up for a few hours, but I can't imagine not being there to watch Olivia dance with her shadow, or Alyssa flip across the mat at gymnastics class.

I'm the lucky one and I need to remember that more often. My girls are my light and sure, my shadow is lurking behind me as I bask in their light but wow, the way they shine amazes me every single day.

PBS Kind of Day

After the busy, busy weekend, yesterday (Sunday) was a PBS kind of day. We started the day with Miffy and Friends on our local PBS and it droned on all day long.

Friday was hectic with a school party, trick or treating and just being out until after 9:00.

Saturday brought another party and another evening not getting home until after 9:00.

Sunday dawned beautifully, the sun shining through the blinds, letting Olivia, who'd been awake since before 7:00 that I'd get up soon and find her some food.

We got up, leaving a sleeping Alyssa to find us when she would.

When A did finally lumber down the stairs, she settled on the couch with us and enjoyed two back to back episodes of Saddle Club, munched berries and relaxed. After the running she'd done the day before, she deserved it.

I made my way to the basement and started some laundry and then vacuumed the living room and the family room.

When Olivia asked me to sit beside her, I decided that mopping the kitchen could wait.

It was a PBS kind of day. We watched Sid the Science Kid and she wandered away, leaving me alone with the cartoons.

I realized that sometimes, even doing nothing can feel good. It can feel like you're accomplishing something.

We had a no-yelling day and it wasn't even declared.

That's MY kind of day.

New Girl

Friday was Alyssa's Halloween party at school. At the beginning of the year, I volunteered for every party they're having. I know, probably overkill, but I had vacation days to burn and figured it would help A with her adjustment if she knew I'd be there as often as I could.

The party went well. I made WAY too many treat bags. In my defense, I though we were combining the two second grade classes. Since we didn't, each kid in A's class got two (and some got four) treat bags. They certainly weren't complaining.

I'd never met either of the other moms who organized the party. But we're all adults, it worked out.

Today, we attended a party thrown by a classmate and her parents.

It was nice. The step-mom was a lovely woman and as the party wound down, she took me aside and told me that my daughter is delightful and she hoped we could get our two girls together again soon. She pointed out that Alyssa is more mature than some of the other kids in the class and she'd like to see her step-daughter spend more time with Alyssa.

It occurred to me as Alyssa and I drove away that A isn't the only new girl in town.

I'm new too.

I'm the new mom. The new volunteer. The new play-date parent.

And...

As I've gotten older, I don't seem to make friends as easily as I did when I was seven.

But I'm trying.

I've made a couple of friends at the girls' gymnastics class. Those other moms who wait at least an hour once or twice a week for their kids to finish class, the ones who watch out of the corners of their eyes for their child to wave at them so they can wave back. They're great. And I'm glad to have met them.

The moms at the school party and the mom at the home party on Saturday were nice too. Sure...they have history and I'm having to start from scratch.

But hey, a couple of months ago, I threw Alyssa into a new situation, one where she was meeting kids who had history with each other and I expected her to start from scratch too, to make new friends and build relationships.

If I can expect her do to that then I can to it too. Because like Alyssa, it won't be long before I'm no longer the new girl.

Routine

Alyssa asked me this morning how many days we've lived in our new house.

I had to stop and think. (Math is not my strong suit. It just isn't.)

I figured it out to be about 78 days.

She said with surprise, "I've had 78 days of school already?"

I said, "Well, I was counting the weekends, so, no, you haven't had that many days of second grade."

She was incredulous. "You counted weekends?"

I resisted rolling my eyes at her, she is only seven, after all. "We do actually live here on the weekends too."

She laughed at herself and went back to watching Arthur and eating her toast.

Our mornings are coming together. We're building a routine. The girls know the order of our mornings and things go fairly smoothly. This is not to say there is never any frustration on any of our parts, or that I manage to get through any morning without a raised voice or a sigh of annoyance.

But it's working out.

Our evenings are getting there too.

But when Tom comes home for a 'visit' things get shot to hell.

See, it's a novelty for the girls when he's there. Because he's not there all the time.

Which is frustrating all the way around.

He came home from the old house last night because I needed him here this morning to care for Olivia while my mom took my step-dad for an appointment.

It's all so convoluted and ridiculous. I have to schedule times when my husband can step in and parent.

I told him recently that I can't wait for him to be up here fulltime. He claimed the same desire.

My boss asked me recently if I'd be able to stay later in the day to get some jobs done each day.

I told him that when Tom is up here all the time, yes, I'll be able to do that. But right now? I can't ask my mom to watch my kids ten plus hours a day.

My boss laughed and said, "Your husband's life is going to change a lot when he's here fulltime, isn't it?"

I shrugged.

But yes, it is. He isn't going to know what hit him. He's been so used to doing what he wants, when he wants to do it. One could forget that the man has been a father for almost 25 years.

But enough bitching from me.

I'm glad our routine is settling. And I know that things will be shaken up when the house sells and Tom comes home. But I'm ready for that too. We'll all settle into a new, better routine when that happens. And I'm ready for new and better.

More than ready.

Grrrrrr....

Is it just my husband? Are all men like this or is mine especially self-centered?

This is a conversation we had this morning:

Me: Just a reminder, my half-day vacations end today. We'll need you to bring Olivia to me next Thursday for gymnastics.

Him: What? I thought she was taking time off gymnastics until I'm up there full time.

Me (confused): No. You wanted her to take the month of October off so you could finish the remodel/cleaning of the house so it could get listed for sell. I rearranged my vacation schedule so she wouldn't have to do that.

Him (voice raised just a little): That's not how it was supposed to be. It doesn't make sense for me to drive 130 miles just for her to have 40 minutes of gymnastics.

Me (remaining calm, much to my amazement and amusement): I don't remember it that way. But I've already paid for this session so...

Him (annoyed): So I guess I'll just have to do it. But it's a waste of my time to do this. I guess I'll just have to plan for Thursdays to be our family visit day.

Me: Hey, I'm sorry I didn't understand that you wanted me to cancel her gymnastics indefinitely until you're up here full time.

Him (backtracking): I'm not mad. I just...I know it sounds selfish (You think?) but even though we'll be using that time as my time to see my family, because I want to see you, and so I have to see you, I think having it be scheduled makes it harder.


Whatever.

He's being a jerk as far as I'm concerned. He doesn't want to have to schedule and plan his time to 'visit his family.' To be honest, the fact that he's staying down there in that house 'until it sells' reeks of selfishness to me.

Sure, it makes it easier for him to show the house, but it also gives him limitless alone time, time to list his items on ebay without the distraction of a wife and two children who will make demands on his time and attention.

Just yesterday, I thanked him, THANKED HIM, for coming to see us on Tuesday. I know. It's insane. And during my show of appreciation, I told him we miss him. But I was careful to tell him that I wasn't trying to make him feel guilty.

And he replied..."Oh, don't worry. I don't feel any guilt."

No guilt over being away from his children for days at a time. NO GUILT over the fact that I do 100% of the parenting these days because he's NOT HERE.

Is it just my husband? Or would most men/fathers not feel guilty over this?

I go away one weekend a year. ONE. WEEKEND. A. YEAR. And I feel guilty. But I'm going to work on that. Because it's bullshit. It's ridiculous.

I'm not even angry at this point. I'm incredulous over the insanity of that conversation. And yeah, I might just 'forget' and pay for the next session just because I'm that kind of wife. Evil.

Parked

The weather here has been so lovely (yesterday's wind/thunderstorms/torando warnings not withstanding) and the girls and I have been taking advantage of this beautiful fall by visiting the park on a regular basis.

This is the first year that Olivia has been able to actually enjoy the equipment offered by most parks with any independence.

Her first year, obviously was spent in the stroller as I followed an agile four year old Alyssa from slide to slide to swing back to the climbing wall.

That first year, I imagined how different the next summer would be. Olivia had finally stopped crying that summer, after spending her first six months either screaming or sleeping. I imagined the next summer would be even better. She's be walking and I'd have to follow her around while still keeping an eye on her sister.

Olivia's second summer wasn't quite what I'd expected. We still went to the park but I wasn't following my 18 month old around as she toddled after her sister. In fact, she'd just started crawling that spring at 17 months.

So she was still stuck in the stroller as we followed Alyssa around the park. Olivia did like the baby swings, so she enjoyed the outings almost as much as A did. It was that summer that I didn't look ahead and imagine what the next summer might bring. Sure, I still had my rose-colored glasses but I was realistic enough to know that Olivia was on her own schedule and when she walked (and I never once considered the fact that she might now) would happen when she was ready.

And her timetable did have her walking by the next summer. She was 29 months when she started taking six steps between me and my mom. She did that for a couple of days then decided to get brave and would go from me to the couch, or my mom to the coffee table. She was up to about 20 steps in a week.

But visits to the park that summer were still less than a gleeful sprint from slide to swing and back again for Olivia.

She still needed a lot of help when she wasn't on solid ground. And forget stairs, slides, climbing.

So I continued to shadow her, letting her do what she felt comfortable doing and helping her with the rest.

This past summer we didn't make it to the parks nearly as often as years past. I don't know if it was the process of buying a new house/moving that kept us from the parks or if it was just my less-than-stellar parenting but we're attempting to make up for it in the last seconds of nice weather this fall.

And...what do you know...Olivia has developed this sense of indepedence. She wants to climb the stairs to the slides (with alternate feet, yay!!) all by herself. Sure, she still wants me on the ground next to where she's playing but she goes down the slides by herself too.

I love this. I love that she's enjoying the physical freedom her sister has taken for granted since she was 10 months old.

I'm going to miss the parks this winter and count down the days until spring.