Written by: Jeremy Baumhower
My least favorite day happens every other week.
Having my kids half-of-the-time is a type of pain you get used to, but doesn’t go away. My AD.D. serves me best when they are not in my home– There are some moments where you almost forget… almost.
Monday mornings are always a reminder of the type of life we have together. After spending 5 days together, it feels like it should and once did. Then in a flash– you have to pack their bags, tell them to behave and kiss them all goodbye. I don’t know why it affects me in such a way because they’ll return in 48 hours, but it does. It always does.
These “goodbye mornings” riddle my heart with sadness and guilt that my kids have two homes, two completely different lives; A fact I cannot fix. The time-traveling Delorean must of been the dream of a person with a co-parenting schedule.
My house goes from crazy chaos to stillness. The calm can be deafening, even maddening. My house once packed with youtube videos, arguments, tattle telling over sneaked snacks and little ones ringing the doorbell becomes a ghost town where it appears my children made a dash for it in the middle of the night.
There are some times where my face carries a smile when we say our goodbyes, but I find those fewer and fewer as they get older.
My eight year-old Joeli joked last night that in ten years… “she was outta here” and we laughed. It seems like such a long way away, but I know it isn’t. For them it will be ten years, but for me, it will be five.
If you were ever considering or even fantasizing about getting a divorce and have children, these are the mornings no one warns you about.
Yes, my children are “fine”, they’ve adjusted to a life never imagined when they were born. But you as the parent… are never “fine”.
“Fine” is an acceptable way to describe a life that has figured out how to live with a pain– it’s a medical diagnosis we give ourselves. When my kids and I are together, you’ll never hear me say that word… it’s my least favorite, least accurate.
I think the word “Fine” is tainted because it’s the only repeating group of letters you hear when considering a divorce.
“You’ll be fine.”
“Your kids will be fine.”
“Everything will be fine.”
Who wants to live life where everything is just fine?
Let me tell you from personal experience, “fine” sucks.
Before you secretly sign up on Tinder or accept a friend request on Facebook you know you shouldn’t– try to imagine saying good-bye to your kids every week for the rest of their lives.
If you still have the strength to hit “accept”, you are a stronger person than me.
Think before you “Friend”.