Days that Jack would know how to poke and prod at my most sensitive spots. Today was one of them.
"I have more fun at Daddy's."
"I wish I was at Daddy's right now."
"Could there be one night a week when you and me and Daddy could all sleep in the same house? Maybe once a month? I would like that so much."
I know this is hard on him, and I know I'm doing the best I can. But sometimes the two don't reconcile. I know he's having a good time with his daddy lately because DH plays with him, and I don't. I'm not much of a player, not even at the preschool. That's just not how I relate to kids. If he wanted to read together, or draw, or craft, or cook, I'd be all over it. Maybe I need to make more of an effort to relate in his preferred modality, or is that just trying to be something I'm not?
I'm the enforcer, because Jack's with me every afternoon after school. Homework and piano practice are my duties. Read for 15 minutes. I'm nursing my hurt feelings here when really I should be appreciating the fact that Jack immensely enjoys the time he spends with his daddy. Before the separating DH barely spent any time with Jack. Now, when Jack's with him, DH is fairly dedicated. That's a good thing.
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