We had Austin's birthday party at an indoor party place for the first time this year. Austin had his doubts when I first told him about it. He wanted his party at home, damn it! But I told him I was pretty sure he would have fun and he should give it a try 'cause I just couldn't do it at home this year. And guess what, Mama was right. He and his friends had a good old time!
While sitting in the birthday throne in the dining area after the jumper frenzy, he declared the party his best birthday party ever. Which works for me because it was the easiest birthday party ever. Win-win!
On Sunday I did something else for the first time. I met a blog friend in the flesh. Lady NOLA is a pleasure. Her life is so very different from mine, as a (somewhat) unattached world-traveler. But we as women aren't so very different. Like me* she is intelligent and generally wonderful ;)
* Please know that I am laughing at myself here. I don't regularly go around proclaiming myself to be the shit.
My son, who is also sometimes my sun, was born six years ago tomorrow. Some years, his birthday falls on the solstice, or vice versa. It was very meaningful to me as his mother that such and bright and shining boy was born during the time of the greatest light.
I can honestly say that I may not have survived the last six weeks without that boy. Perhaps even these six years. Life is hard sometimes. Like HARD, man. And relationships – marriage – can slip slowly into places you never wanted them to go and then you wake up one day and wonder what the fuck happened? How did I – we – let it get this bad?
But, if you’re lucky, there is still something there worth holding on to. And if you are really REALLY lucky you will both see it and want to hold on to it. And it doesn’t hurt to have a very smart almost six-year-old there to tell you, hey Mom, Dad’s a great guy, you should be proud of him. And… hey Dad, be nice to Mom, she’s sad.
What would I do without you? Happy Birthday, big guy. I love you.
I saw a commercial for a romantic getaway type place and died a little again. I can't help but think if we had done more of that, spent time together paying attention to each other, none of this would have happened. Or at least maybe we would have been better armed to get through it.
Just getting through the day is exhausting. But then trying to go to sleep is a new fresh hell every night. He is moving out on Saturday. I swing from feeling like an independent adult who will be just fine, thankyouverymuch, and feeling like a little girl whose daddy never loved her. I wish I was dead. I wish he was dead. I wish we had never met. I wish I had never been born.
I wake before my alarm goes off and go out for a walk before my brain has a chance to make excuses not to, dawn just barely breaking. The air too cool to be comfortable. The neighborhood dogs too sleepy to bother barking at me. Alone.
Maybe I picked the wrong time to wean off of my Prozac. I felt numb. There was too much distance between us. But not enough for him.