Birthdays and other such nonsense

September 10, 2015

At work again, lunch break.  This seems to be the only time I can carve out to write.  I was off yesterday, home with my little monster all day.  Didn’t get much done, didn’t even really get to nap because I was focused on him all day.  Well him and TV but I can usually get stuff done while I watch television but not while I’m holding him.  I have aMoby wrap which I actually like but the AC is still broken so going around with him strapped to me with all that fabric is not an option because the house is just too damn hot.  I managed to straighten up a little here and there, threw in a load of laundry but for the most part I sat on the catch with little man all day watching whatever.  I had intended to be out and about for at least the first part of the day.  I needed to go to my job because I left my debit card in my lab coat and from there I was headed to my Momma’s house to get her BJs card so I could get some formula and other essentials. Problem was I didn’t have any gas, definitely not enough to get all the way to my job and then to the gas station.  I was reluctant to transfer money to the joint account that I do have a debit card for.  I ended up doing that anyway several hours later.  Not sure why I waited to so long.  Around 5pm I gathered little man and myself up, picked up the girl and finally went to run my errands.

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I’ll be 37 years old.  Not quite sure how I feel about that.  I’ve always loved my birthday but I’m at a point that I’m kind of indifferent.  Maybe I’ll care when I turn 40.  I am painfully aware of my age.  The number of years I’ve been on this earth troubles me only in light of how little I feel I’ve accomplished.  I have 3 awesome children whom I love with all my heart but their existence was really more good fortune than an actual accomplishment.  True, my oldest is in college and doing well by most accounts, still I don’t feel I can take credit for that.  His success in life is more of a blessing from God than a human achievement, at least from my perspective.  I know I made more than enough mistakes raising him to have ruined him completely.  It has been God’s grace and mercy keeping both of us. 

So I’m scheduled to work on my birthday, even though it falls on a Friday.  I’m working the next day too.  Eh, I just didn’t feel it required any time off.  The husband is planning to taking me to NYC at the beginning of October for a weekend getaway in honor of my birthday.  We just need to find someone to watch our kids for 3 days.  Easier said than done, but my beloved doesn’t think about that sort of thing.  Of course he’s used to having someone else be responsible for his children.  He’s a good Dad to the children he has with me, but he is gone a lot because of his job and even when he's home he's often still working.  He’s only had physical custody of his oldest son for the last 3 years; he has 2 other children that don’t live with him; one he only sees every other weekend and the other he’s never even met.  I suppose that is harsh, but I can’t take it back, it’s true.  He’s been a part time dad most of his life and even though he tries his best, he has a disturbing ability to be separated from his children for long periods of time, leaving them in the care of others without feeling bad?  I’m not sure how to describe it.  It just seems to me that most full time parents of small children have an instinct to be present with their kids as much as possible and if too much time goes by it’s a problem.  It’s not like that for my husband.  He’s totally fine leaving his kids for extended periods with other people while he pursues his own interests.  And he totally expects that other people will just be okay caring for them while he's off doing whatever.  Not that he doesn’t miss them or want to be with them, he’s just not as affected by being absent.  He only had to be a weekend dad for so long, and he had the freedom to dip off for weeks at a time and it was fine because his "baby's mother" was doing all the heavy lifting.  As a dad as long as he came around on a somewhat regular basis and paid child support he was a "good dad". It's like that for a guy. The mom does most of the work, makes all the sacrifices and deals with the everyday, monotonous routine that is parenting, but parttime dads get to show up when it's convenient for them, spend a few hours every other weekend playing the role and everyone is impressed. Smdh.