When I left my situation to escape all the things I'm not allowed to identify here (or now - maybe someday) there was instant relief from the ugly surroundings I had become so accustomed to.
What nobody prepared me for is that my parenting time would be brutally torn in half.
For the last nine years I had been used to being with my boys constantly. I worked as a homemaker, and the last two years, we homeschooled. Their father "worked"/didn't come home until after midnight every week night. I operated like a single parent in lots of ways.
But I loved it.
Homeschool especially gave us the chance to slow down our lives in a Google Calendar based culture.
We took field trips, read aloud, explored outside, had picnics, we offered rides to people with brain injuries, we stayed out late during baseball season, we served others in the name of the Lord. What a wonderfully enriching time the three of us spent together. I thank God.
Now I'm reduced to seeing my children that I carried each for 41 weeks, nursed for their first year, taught them to eat, walk, use the toilet, pray, read... Now I'm reduced to seeing them two days a week and every other weekend.
Every time I'm alone in this house I curse the reason I'm here.
I can't tuck them in.
Read to them every night before bed.
Sing them a hymn.
Hold them while they're fresh from the shower.
Hear them laugh together.
Play Sleeping Queens.
THIS ENRAGES ME - and as I type I ruin three coats of mascara. Again.
THIS IS NOT RIGHT GOD!
It seems like all I did was swap out one pain for another.
I wonder...if it's worth it.
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