The End of Me

I love my children with all my heart but some days I think they are trying to end me. Valentine’s Day is a hard day for me because it is the anniversary of the end of my marriage. It was the day my ex-husband walked out on me and the little guy we I had hoped to adopt. I don’t think much of the day until it hits me square between the eyes and I feel sad and grateful all at once. It is a complicated day, with messages of eternal love and grand gestures of affection clogging social media. Meh. I try to focus on making the day fun for the kids, handing out valentines, making a treat for daycare, things like that. Over the weekend we bought the valentines for Chica Marie’s class and Love Bug’s daycare. We also bought a little something for their teachers since the valentines don’t seem to have teacher cards like they did when I was in school. So, a heart box filled with various flavor filled chocolate for Chica Marie’s teacher and a Minnie Mouse box of chocolates for Love Bug’s teacher because she likes Mickey and Minnie. It was a small but meaningful gesture, I thought. We also make a pretzel treat for daycare, melting a Hershey kiss and then pressing a candy heart on top. Simple and cute. The valentines and teacher gifts were tucked into plastic shopping bags sitting on the kitchen table so I would not forget to send them along on Valentine’s Day. When I opened the bag with Love Bug’s valentines inside I notice the box of chocolates intended for his teacher was missing. I made the kids look for it and asked them to tell me what happened. Apparently, according to Chica Marie, the cats knocked the box out of the bag and down into the basement where it disappeared. Love Bug told me it was in their bedroom. The box was not found and I bought a different, less personal, box of chocolate on my lunch break to give to his teacher. I was very upset with the children because I hate not being able to trust having things sit out. I hate feeling like I need to hide everything or else the children will just take it. It was not a good morning in our home.

 

Not long after I got to work I received an email from Primero’s IEP teacher at school. He is failing all his classes this quarter. When I contacted Primero about it, he got angry that the school had contacted me. When we talked about it last night he was indigent, telling me his grades were none of my business and as an adult he can’t have everything going to his parents. He wants to fail on his own, thank you very much. We didn’t get a chance to really resolve the issue because he was more concerned about having a friend stay over than he was about his grades or his future or being an actual responsible adult. I hate how our relationship is right now. I hate his horrible sleeping schedule (stay up all night, sleep all day). I’m fairly certain he has been skipping school on the days they have delays for weather. I know he lies to me as often as he takes a breath and I don’t trust him very much anymore. I don’t see him as an adult, I see him as a child in a young man’s body. He is not responsible with his money and his only care in the world is getting the van to go to work. I want to shake him, I want to smack the teenage hubris right out of him. Instead I grit my head and lower my head to go another round in this awful game of growing up. I feel defeated. I feel tired. I feel like my household is not my own, it is just manipulated by a wanna be grown up with control issues.