Conflict and Melancholy

I'm conflicted. And melancholy.

I'm a mom. I want my kids to be happy. All the time. I know they won't be, because, hello, there's such thing as bad grades, mean friends, ripped jeans, running out of pudding, and Idaho drivers. But, generally speaking, I want them to lead happy lives.

They split their holidays, and right now, it's a bonanza. Two birthdays? Awesome. Two Christmases? Even better. And I genuinely want them to be happy to go to their dad's, I want them to enjoy their time up there playing with their cousins and carousing in a real house without shared walls.

So why do I get sad when I go a day without a phone call or a text? Why do I start feeling like they don't really like me anymore, like they would choose a different mom if they could? Dramatic? I've never been accused of under-dramatization. I fell asleep last night thinking about this and somewhere in the subconciousness of sleep, I hit upon something.

When you're the mom and your kids are little, you're pretty much it for them. They need you for everything. They need you to help them get dressed, get fed, get wiped, get up, get down, get everything. As they grow up, they take over some of those responsibilities, but there's always more for the mom to do. But when you're divorced, your kids learn to do things without you, they live a different life at a different place much sooner than other kids. Non-divorced kids, they might not live a life without their mom until college . . . but my Spen has had a life without me since he was a brand-new baby.

That's where the melancholy comes in. It's not that I want them to be sad at their dad's, I swear on a stack of Bibles that I'm a better person than that, it's just sad to me that they do a whole bunch of living, being, learning, laughing . . . without me there to watch.

See? Blogging while they're gone : never a good idea.