Another weekend has come and gone and I’m back to an empty house. I did my best to stay upbeat with this drop-off, and there were no tears this time, problem is, I’m torn on how to feel about that. Should I be happy that my baby didn’t cry, that there were no tears or “….but I’ll miss you” that guaranteed that I’d tear up, or should I be bothered or worried that she’s growing accustomed to this situation like her brother, and growing accustomed to not being around me as much as she was before? I realize most people will say I shouldn’t think too much, that I should be happy that she didn’t get upset or cry, but these back and forth thoughts and emotions, are nearly every day with me.
Admittedly though, it was a fitting end to a decent day and a half of just me and the girls. My oldest had a school dance Friday, so I didn’t get the girls until midday Saturday, took them back just a little over 24 hours later, and I wouldn’t trade those 24 hours for anything.
I sometimes worry I’m trying too hard with my oldest though. Our relationship in the past few years has been rocky at best. Being as she’s my step-daughter, there have been times I’ve seriously expected to hear the dreaded “you’re not my Dad!” come from her, because at times it was that bad. Looking back, I think it was a reaction to me and her mom not doing well, and she felt like she somewhat betrayed her mom if she didn’t turn her back on me. The last few months have been better though. She talks to me more, and I’m being more relaxed, talking to her, pestering and giving her a hard time anything related to One Direction pops up or we see in a store. I’ve had a few serious conversations with her too, and that seems to be good, she’s slowly opening up to me again, but I worry. There are times that she still seems uncomfortable, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m trying too hard.
Outside of that worry, it’s not been bad, a weekend of “moving forward” as it were. Cleaning out closets and sorting things out to eventually take to Goodwill, it was productive and emotionally healing. I did have one foul-up Saturday night though. Bug and I were outside looking at the stars and playing on the iPad with the app SkyView. She was getting a kick out of moving it around the sky and seeing the constellations pop up on the screen. Like any 4-year old though, her attention was diverted when the cat came to see what we were doing. She was loving on the cat (named Tyler) and was saying that we needed to get Tyler a friend, so he wouldn’t be lonely when she wasn’t at the house. Well, leave it to Dad to stick his foot in his mouth. I told her we would wait until I saw where I was moving to, and then we’d decide on a pet, but that we would most definitely get something. That’s all it took for a breakdown about her not wanting me to move, she loved her house and didn’t want to leave it. She calmed down a little when I told her we’d take all our stuff with us, but she was still upset about the thought of not having the current house as her home anymore. It killed me like I knew it would. Leave it to me.
Fortunately, that was the low point while I had the girls with me, besides having to drop them off. I delay and stick around so bad when I’m dropping the girls off, it probably borders on sad. I’ll go from the front window to the back window talking to both, getting as many kisses from Bug as I can. It’s hard letting go, saying goodbye knowing I won’t get to see her for at least another 5 plus days. I’m sure that doesn’t sound like a lot, but after seeing her every day of her life, not leaving her forever more than one night, it’s difficult, very difficult. She was my light, which would brighten up my day. She still is, but the excitement and light is tempered down because she’s not here when I get home.
I’m already going to break one of the rules I set for myself when I decided to start writing this blog. I’ll eventually have a post explaining it all, but to keep things private, I decided I’d never use actual names, I don’t even use my own, the name I have on this site is made up. I also told myself I’d never degrade or bad-mouth my childrens’ mothers, and I won’t. The third thing I’m about to break. I told myself no face pics, for partially the same reason as the names, privacy. However, during the drop-off, my Bug was willing to take a pic with me, and take a good one. A picture I’m going to cherish, that just makes me smile, and captures my baby girl perfectly. So, I close this post with a photo of my Bug and I. Daddy loves you baby.
