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Mama (or my friend Nikki) told me there'd be days like this


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.

Comments

Gnightgirl said…
Many's the day I wanted to tackle and pummel he worshipped HeroDad when I was busting my hump. I think it passed after...let's see...Brian is 25. Yes, it blew over when he was 24.

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wotd: temporize

temporize \TEM-puh-ryz\, intransitive verb:
1. To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay action.
2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing opinion or circumstances.
3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

It's easy to tell yourself that you'll write a daily blog entry using the word of the day from dictionary(dot)com as a prompt, and equally easy to temporize your daily entry by waffling over what to write about, or evading your obligation by procrastination. There. Bedtime.

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Indulge me! In no particular order:

1. I love making pinatas. I've made a pinata for Jack's birthday for the last five years. The Death Star, a jellyfish from Spongebob, Patrick Star from Spongebob, Plankton from Spongebob, and just this year King Pig from Angry Birds. I've been commissioned by a friend to produce another Angry Birds Pig pinata for her son's birthday. I'm gonna do it.

2. Right now three of my ten fingers hurt when I type. I don't bite my nails (unless one is already broken) but I do pick and pull at my cuticles. I've developed acute paronychia, a bacterial infection, at those three finger tips. The one that hurts the most is my right thumb. Space bar hell. I've done this to myself since childhood. When I'm pulling and nipping at a hangnail, I know it's going to hurt but I go ahead and do it anyway.

3. I consider myself substantial: in body and in mind. I am robust. I have zeal. I just don't have any confidence.

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