And Another Day...

The kids were with their dad for his birthday.  Well, technically, they were with his babysitter for the two days, but my point is that I didn't have them.  I spent the entire day preparing for the weekend and for next week - the first day of school, the first day of school, the first day of school!  Paige is really very excited, very excited. 

If you ask Tony if he can't wait to go to school he answers, deadpan, "Nope, wanna stay home with Mommy."

And Mommy wants to stay home with him.

I had a great conversation last night with a man who has a fifteen and a twelve year old.  He said that he spent so many months and years worrying about their future that now that it is their future, he knows he missed their past, and regrets it (though, between you and me, he knows his kids pretty well - better than a lot of parents know their kids).  I feel similarly about the last three years.  I spent so much time focusing on waking up every morning and getting through the day without losing my marbles, that I missed some time with the kids.  Thank God.  Thank God.  Thank God I had this blog because I look through it and realize how much I actually wrote about them and I am thankful (to God) that I did!

So, with these thoughts strolling down the avenues in my head, I wondered what I could do to make this Friday different for the kids.  I was pushing a cart through the grocery store at the time and just happened upon some hot fudge for ice cream sundaes. 

Side note:  I am NOT a sweet eater.  I'd rather have a porkchop covered in Romaine lettuce salad than three scoops of vanilla slathered in chocolate...

I picked up the hot fudge, some whip cream, some rainbow sprinkles and two cartons of ice cream.  On my way out the store, my closest girlfriend in Maryland, Amy, called me (she has two newborn twins and two toddlers younger than Paige and Tony) and asked me what I was doing.  I told her that I was bringing dessert to her house (discreetly inviting myself and my kids for dinner at her house, which, to my disbelief and yes, envy, I watched her husband make the entire dinner while she nursed the twins and took care of the toddlers.  Really, that happens?).  And I did. 

I watched as my kids and her kids scooped their own ice cream over the brownies I had made last night, poured their own chocolate syrup, sprayed their own whip cream and sprinkled their own decorations, and loved every second of it.  I made a sundae for Amy, which she devoured gratefully, and I thought that this is how I have to live. 

I could have stayed home with the kids.  I could have made the sundaes for them without their friends and they would have been fine.  Hell, I could have gotten a sitter and spent the evening in my bed, reading like I want to do.  But no, I won't. 

I will not lose myself again. 

I will not hide under that rock. 

I will cry.

Certainly, I will cry a lot.

But damn it, I will not fall back into the hole again.

I miss my dad.  I mourn for him.  I wish all of this was just a bad dream.  Yet, and another good friend of mine said this to me, my dad would hate it if I stopped living.  I stopped living after Jeff died - lost a year and a half.   I cannot.  I cannot.  I cannot do that again.

And so, like the first day of school for my Paige and my Tony, I'll get up and begin a new journey. 

And you can bet your ass I won't have a babysitter watching my kids grow up.