Battle Buddy

Fortunately (or unfortunately) I have a new battle buddy. Fortunately because we each have many similarities in our situations, unfortunately though because there are four more children who are now faced with an unbelievable situation. I met him about a year ago while he was doing some renovation work at the hotel where I worked. Just casual acquaintances at best. Friends enough to greet each other in public and remember each others names and talk about our kids, but not hang-out type friends.

There was always a friendly amount of flirting with him when he was at the job (which wasn’t often). He was safe to flirt with…he was married, had been with his wife for 20 years, had four children with her, I didn’t mind stroking his ego, he is one of those soft spoken guys who obviously had no clue just how much people liked him. He is a rare breed for sure; a man immersed in the lives of his children, always working to making his marriage as good as it could be, even in difficult times, and always professional.

While at church last weekend I saw him and greeted him. One of the women from the bible study group I attended came up behind me and asked, “And how do you know him?” I jokingly told her I had tried picking him up at a hotel one time until I found out he was married. “For another eight days” he mumbled. I apologized for putting my foot in my mouth and said I had no idea he was getting a divorce. Well, apparently he didn’t either until about six weeks ago. Turns out the bible study friend is his mother! lol Small world ain’t it??

At one point during the bible study discussion a few weeks ago as we talked of forgiveness and letting go and learning to be positive the mom had looked at me and said, “Hmmm, you should talk to my son.”

So then I said, “Is THIS the son I am supposed to talk with?” Sure enough…what are the odds? So he and I updated each other on our respective situations and it was easy to see the hurt and shock still in his eyes. At the end of the conversation we parted ways and I didn’t give it a second thought when his mother asked for my phone number (we are in bible study together, remember).

Later than day I told the Lunch Lady about the conversation (he and her also have two children the same age so they are in the same circles at school). His situation is heartbreaking. He realized the marriage had changed in late summer and took the initiative to get he and his wife in to counseling. On the third visit she announced to him that she wanted a divorce and that she was two months pregnant by another man with whom she’d been seeing for over a year. She then moved out of the family home, has rarely seen her children since moving out and the divorce will be final next week. Three months ago things were fine…now he is a single father with four children. Quite the blow. She gave him custody of the kids, the house, and just walked out on their life, their family.

Later on Sunday I received a text message, “Are you sleeping?” from a strange number. I asked who it was and it was him, he needed to talk and his mom had given my number…I am so naive! We talked for a while about his situation and dealing with feelings and children, and the roller coaster his brain and heart are riding. Being a few steps ahead of him as far as the emotional processing of every thing it was easy to give him honest feedback and a few insider things to be aware of with the kids and each of their developmental stages. He was receptive of the information and sounded grateful to have a battle buddy. I told him that I don’t know his wife, have never met her, and will never judge her (or him) for the choices they make. I would be a neutral party to bounce ideas off and if he needed to vent he now knew how to get a hold of me. I told him to also run it through his brain the ‘what if’ scenarios if she decides to try to reconcile. I don’t think anybody had approached that possibility with him, but I could tell he was thinking it. I said there is always hope for reconciliation until one of them is six feet under. Almost funny coming from me.

The next day his mom and I had a lunch date and we talked about my situation and how she hopes he will return to church on a more regular basis as he works through this situation. I said I can be his friend, and a sounding board and hopefully a support as far as church goes.

I have to admit, the similarities of our situations makes our conversations easy. Today after I took the boys to school we talked about when I found out I had to move out of the house and the blow that was to my heart and ego. I rarely hurt when I talk of it, but talking to him about it, it was no longer as matter of fact as I make it sound. For him to openly acknowledge the hurt and agony I felt without attempting to sugar coat, side step, or justify the situation was agonizing and comforting at the same time. We are Battle Buddies, fighting the same war in our hearts and brains. With time I am hoping that sharing our individual grief journeys will strengthen us for ourselves, our children, and our partners.

One of the reasons I started this blog was to hope that even one person would find out they are not alone in their journey. I never expected somebody to return the favor. Always the helper, never the helpee…it’s how I try to portray myself. Never allowing my weakness to be revealed anywhere other than maybe here where I can pretend nobody reads it and confident that even if they do they will be much too uncomfortable to bring it up in person…people tend to not enjoy tough talks.

Welcome to my Battle Buddy…and thank you for the gift you have given me, the gift of friendship.

Muddled

Well, last week didn’t turn out quite like I had planned. I had arranged with the ex to take Bum (the youngest who needs his ‘Mama time’ more than Bubba who is already starting to get a social life and is okay with daily phone calls and playing Minecraft via internet with me). I was supposed to get Bum for Thursday Friday as they had no school and the plan was to send him back to Dad’s on Friday evening as it was Dad’s weekend…

I call to arrange the Wednesday pickup and am faced with, “Well, I was wondering if you would take both boys and keep them for the whole weekend.” My mom heart JUMPED at the opportunity…HELL YA!! More time with my kids…every time.

We had a great weekend…their dad dropped them off to me at the bowling alley on Wednesday (we were almost finished the second of three games when they got there to cheer us on). I am always humbled when people take the time and effort to tell me how amazing my boys are. They are. They are little gentlemen…and very much ‘little boys’ when they want to be. I am so thankful to be able to be proud of them one second, and giving them the death stare the next. I really do have the greatest kids around.

Note to self: The death stare rarely works while giggling, it also is useless when the retired Army Captain standing behind me is giving me bunny ears. She is on my team, I couldn’t kill her!!

Thursday we bought a cake to celebrate The Boyfriend’s birthday. While we were at the store, Bubba was on the phone with his dad. Ya, we are buying a birthday cake for The Boyfriend (they call him by his first name) when dad questioned who The Boyfriend was, Bubba said, “He’s my friend, and Mom’s” LMFAO When we got home we took pictures of the cake to send to him and in one shot Bubba is licking the side of the cake “Ha mom, he’ll love this”

Friday morning I had to take Bum to the doctor. He has SIX…yes, SIX warts on his feet. I had one treated a while back and instructed dad that he would need at least one more treatment on it in the next couple of weeks. Well, he never did and now he has six warts to be treated instead of one. They froze them all and off to Walmart to buy band-aids keep them covered and then home we went.

It bothers me that it is beyond him to make even routine doctor appointments but can’t even manage to take them in when they have needs. Almost a year Bubba has been waiting to see a specialist for a congenital hip condition. I can’t make the appointment because it is with a specialist and I have to go by dad’s schedule.

I told dad that at least of one of the warts (the original one) has to be treated at least one more time in 10 -14 days…any bets on who will end up doing that one? Ya…I didn’t think so.

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Friday night at 2230h Bum asked me, “Mom, how many more days until The Boyfriend comes home?” I told him is was about xx days and he thought about it for a minute, gave me a kiss, and told me “That’s for The Boyfriend.” He then curled right back up and went to sleep.

While he was sleeping I found a countdown app for my iPod and downloaded it with an approximate return date (and added a few weeks to the date I think it may be just in case). The next morning I showed it to him and he pursed his lips and said, “That’s a long time.” Yep kiddo, it sure is, but he’ll be home as soon as him and his friends are finished what they are doing.

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Saturday morning at youth bowling Bum threw his first official league strike…I couldn’t be more happy for him. The little boy on his team and he are both first year bowlers and had a blast.

Saturday Bum spiked a fever out of nowhere accompanied by a headache. My poor baby had already spent 90% of his visit planted firmly on my lap, and now here he was, sick. (There are times when he just cannot get close enough to his mom…like he literally needs to attach himself to me in order to trust that I really am right there and not going anywhere). I prefer to allow fevers to work themselves out knowing they are working on whatever is attacking his tiny system. When he changed positions and grabbed his head I immediately pulled out the Tylenol.

So he had a four hour afternoon nap and then when he woke up I asked if he wanted to head to the store with me, I didn’t have a thermometer at my house and offered to make ‘mom’s special recipe hot chocolate’ for a bedtime snack. Off we went…new thermometer, hot chocolate, whipped cream, and mini marshmallows…WINNER…every time.

He laid on me all night in the recliner. Each time he changed positions I nearly froze to death! I guess he was warmer than I realized!

Sunday morning both boys wanted to go to church so off we went to the 0930h service. I guess he was feeling better. His fever was gone for the time being and he even ate breakfast. When he curled up on my lap during the church service I could feel he was again a little warm and did a quick scan of the crowd seeing who was going to be the one to help me clean up Marshmallow Matey’s vomit…I’m sure I would have been covered, but thankfully did not have to find out!! Neither boy wanted to attend Creation Station as I was not teaching. It was a great sermon for them to be a part of though, so I was actually glad they stayed. You can view the service here once it is posted. Thankfully our church streams the service each week for those who can’t make it for whatever reason. Just before the sermon the youth pastor and another member of the congregation did a short skit that had my boys rolling in the isles (literally).

After church we went back to hang out at home, Bum was still a little worn out, so not much doing except movies and Minecraft (DAMN YOU MINECRAFT). The Lunch Lady stopped over to drop of some clothes that will fit the boys. I have a heck of a time getting their father to provide clothing that is decent and fits for my visitation and am not currently in a position to buy a whole bunch on my own. She also showed up with a thank you gift that is better than any thank you gift I have ever received…a HUGE jar of Nutella!! See, she really DOES get me!

I took the boys to our arranged meeting place at the arranged time to meet dad and things were okay until we got out of the vehicle. Immediately I was overcome with a sense of anger and sadness. I gave both boys a million hugs and kisses (the only time I get kisses from Bubba besides bedtime is at drop off) and headed home.

I was crushed, I was frozen in despair, I was so upset. I rattled off an email to The Boyfriend and whined that I was in a bad mood and just as soon as I typed that it hit me. I had the boys for a four-day visit instead of the usual two…of course it was harder to let them go after four days than two. I need to learn to give myself credit for how hard it is to send them back to dad’s. Every other weekend (actually three weekends in a row right now because I still get my regular weekend this weekend) my heart breaks all over again when I send my boys to their dad’s house. Not just hurts…it breaks. My body is heavier, my brain is scrambled, my life is changed again.

About an hour later I sent The Boyfriend another email and it started like this:

Yep, I feel like my heart is dying right now…laying a hot bubble bath, listening to sappy-ass songs, bawling my eyes out, missing the loves of my life…praying with everything I have for God to give me strength to get through this in one piece, because I sure don’t feel like I’m going to make it right now.

Even just copy/pasting that I am fighting back the tears…feeling them burn my cheeks…I’m at the library, good thing I can type without seeing the keys, because they are VERY blurry right now…

Ok, a few rounds of Candy Crush later as well as a roam through Facebook world and I’m back. Now where was I?

Oh ya, took the boys back, went home and proceeded to feel sorry for myself. The ex sent me a text, “You looked pissed when we met, you alright?” Oh how I wish I could just tell him…he’s a horse shit parent and his only concern is hurting me, and he doesn’t give a shit about what this is doing to our children…but I can’t. I have to ‘play nice’ until court is finished. Just told him I was fine and he let it go.

My Facebook status was “There are just some things even my heart can’t take…and we all know it can (and has) taken a damn good beating.” I’m not usually one to air my pity party on Facebook, but dammit, I was so broken. I have been through Hell…and I have been tempted to dance with the devil…I’m allowed to break down once in a while, aren’t I?

Took a sleeping pill as I knew sleep and me would not be meeting otherwise last night and cried my sorry ass to sleep. This morning I woke up and still was not ‘back from the brink’ so to speak. I watched CMT, ate Little Debbie snacks (thanks Bum…great choice the other day). At 1100h a movie comes on CMT…I am too lazy to change the channel and not motivated enough to get up and shower yet so I watch it…We Are Marshall…I’ve never seen it before. Poor timing CMT, well-played God…just what I needed. I needed to be able to cry., and cry I did. Deep, raw, agonizing, hot tears. I was going to put on my FB “Note to self, watching We Are Marshall when already feeling down is not a good idea”…but really it was. It was the catalyst I needed to get my tears out. To allow my tears to fall, to be NOT strong for just a few minutes. Instead I put “Note to self: watching We Are Marshall when already feeling down has its pros and cons!”

Another friend of mine who was also having a rough day at her house posted “So I read this and at first read that you watched We Are marshmallow and got really confused. Can you tell I have junk food on my mind? Hope that makes you smile as much as it did me :)”

So here I am…bawling my eyes out and suddenly I am giggling so loud that I am surprised my neighbors weren’t knocking on the walls…again, just what I needed.

The Boyfriend came online and after reading my emails was concerned about me. I told him I was fine (which I will be) and he told me my emails had him worried. I told him it was just a rough stretch and that I would be fine…he said I didn’t sound fine. I promised him it was just a momentary situation and that I would be okay which he acknowledged. He seems to think I am some sort of super woman who can do anything…I’m not, I’m just a mom who misses her boys more than anybody could ever imagine.

By 0100 his time we had caught up (we had been a couple of days with no communication) and he was confident that I was back on the right track…or at least headed there. He’s more support than he realizes. I told him I knew he was never more than an email away. He really is my hero.

My laptop is not yet back in service so please excuse the muddled mess of this post…and thank you.

The Story of Sam

Friday, August 1, 2003 I found out I was pregnant. First person to know was my shrink…I was crying; maybe it wasn’t true, maybe the test was a false-positive…I couldn’t be pregnant. I had spent the last 8 months planning my divorce! I ‘knew’ that as soon as our bills were paid off, I was leaving. There was no way my marriage was going to work.

There it was though, in my hand, a positive pregnancy test.

EH and I both knew the marriage was over. He had significantly changed the ‘rules’ without any care about what it would do to our marriage and the three children we brought into our marriage (his two from his first marriage, and my Bug).

Well, over the course of the weekend we knew we had no choice but to make this work. We now had a baby coming.

Monday night I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why. All my babies had nicknames while they were in-utero and I knew I would not sleep until I came up with a name for our new baby. We talked about nursery themes, plans for telling the kids, dreams, fixing our broken marriage.

Baby Looney Toons was chosen for a nursery room theme. We then decided that Yosemite Sam was going to be who we named our baby after until it was born. This was about 4:00 in the morning when we both finally fell asleep. I was at peace, my baby had a name; welcome Sam.

At work the next morning, I was there less than an hour and noticed some spotting. I called EH (we worked at the same place) and we went to the ER. My doctor was just coming in for the day so he saw me in the ER. I was given a speculum exam and was told that it was minimal spotting, the cervical os was still closed, and spotting in early pregnancy is common. He told me to go home and rest for the day and resume my normal activities the next day. I went home and crawled into bed…woo hoo…nap time!!

A lifetime later, Sam’s lifetime…I woke up from my nap. In a pool of blood and my baby. I called the doctor, told the nurse what happened and was told to bring in what I passed. I did as I was told…my child, my baby…in a Rubbermaid food storage container.

The lab report came back a few weeks later…products of conception…I hate that label, spontaneous abortion; I hate that one too. No cause, no reason…no answers.

I’m sorry Sam. If love could have saved you…I’m so sorry.

Baby Jordan

Seventeen years ago today I lost my second pregnancy. Bug was 14 months old. I had been away from her extremely abusive father for a month already…I didn’t even know I was three and a half months pregnant.

I named the baby Jordan Kelly because I wanted a unisex name. Over the years Jordan has taken on a female gender. I would guess this has mostly to do with the fact that EH’s daughter’s name is Jordan. My Jordan became “Baby Jordan.”

I remember even then, although insanely sad that I had lost the baby, I was thankful that I would not have to explain to two children why their father wasn’t in their lives. I believed, even then at the very beginning when I realized I was going to give birth, that God knew what he was doing. My baby had lived exactly as long as she was meant to live…14 weeks…

The story of her birth I am not ready to share here, and very few know it…I will say it was one of the most traumatic things I’ve ever dealt with.

Tonight, I will release a balloon for her birthday…maybe I can go pick up the boys and take them to the cemetery. The other day Bubba and Bum were talking about our Angel’s birthdays and Bum said he wanted to write on a piece of paper and tie it to a balloon to send to the babies. We do that a few times a year…we write little notes, roll it up like a scroll, tie it to the ribbon of the balloon and send them to heaven. I told him Baby Jordan’s birthday was today and that we could do something together. Maybe I’ll even buy cupcakes to take out there…we can have a picnic. It’s a beautiful spot and today the weather is perfect.

I love you baby girl.

…Shattered…

…and just like that my heart hurts…

This one isn’t about my boys though. I think I hurt Sparky’s feelings. I dunno for sure though because after a long shift at work he was going to bed.

I got a letter from my lawyer today with a settlement ‘offer’ from EH. He’s ‘offering’ him to have custody with me having every other weekend and him to have custody during the school year and me to have them all summer with him having them every other weekend at that point. He sees this as a ‘concession’ because he was granted temporary custody without a set visitation schedule.

After reading it…and without even having time to think about it, I told Sparky that if he gets full custody of the boys I saw that as the end to our future. His response was “I didn’t think the drive was that big of a deal but apparently it is.” ugh

I just said that I cannot live that far away from my boys and there is no way every other weekend seeing each other is enough…”well, I guess you already decided then, I’m going to bed, good night.”

click

fuck.me.

I think I hurt his feelings, and now I feel like shit.

Sorry Sparky…I am just so damned scared of losing my boys. I just can’t even fathom life without them. I know you understand that. I also know you do everything in your power to reassure me that everything is going to work out okay. I’m not half as confident as you when it comes to this, I’m the only shot these boys have…and I’m scared.

I have hope because I had Faith

WARNING GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS/PHOTOS MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR ALL AUDIENCES

July 9, 2009 at 1823h was the last time I was pregnant. Faith was born at 8 weeks, 5 days gestation. While not yet completely formed, there were eyes, ear buds, a tiny nose and mouth, webbed fingers and toes on the end of her arms and legs.

Pregnancy was again taking it’s toll on me. Morning sickness had kept me confined to the couch with a puke bucket for nearly a week at this point. The ultra sound showed an anomaly which may have been a second gestational sac. Faith’s heart had been beating strong and she measured perfectly for her gestational age.

Bug and Bubba were on vacation in Canada at Grandma and Grandpa’s. It was just Bum and I at home. EH (formerly known as Mr. Ex) and I were separated at the time (his first mid-life crisis) but he had been staying at the house as I had been so sick.

July 9, 1800h he came in from work and went to have a shower. I was watching TV. I sat up to get something and passed what felt like a large clot. I had a partial abruption when I was 12 weeks and 2 days pregnant with Bum…I got up, yelled at EH to get something (I knew we would have to take whatever it was into the hospital when we went). Of course this was at the exactly moment he was covered in soap. When he got out, he grabbed an empty wipes container and I slowly emptied the contents of my underwear into it as he ran to get dried off.

I now know what it sounds like when you hear people saying they could hear somebody screaming only to realize it was their own voice.

Bum, only a year and a half old at this time, came running in to the bathroom as I stared at my baby, perfect in a way only a parent can see…and she waved at me. What I had felt turned out to be the entire gestational sac, intact. As I looked and what I had thought was a massive blood clot it rolled against the side of the container exposing the clear membrane, allowing me to see my daughter wave her final goodbye.

When EH reentered the bathroom I screamed at him to go get the camera. I don’t know why I needed him to get it THAT minute…but I was ANGRY and he went to get it. Of course this was after I nearly shoved the wipes container towards him screaming “LOOK” in a very accusing tone.

After I calmed down a little bit, I called my doctor, told him what happened and he gave me the option to come in or stay home. I decided to stay home. As a nurse, I knew what to expect, what to watch for and when to go in, he respected that.

I placed Faith in the fridge…my sense of humor taking over for the shock and grief…she was “…chilling in the fridge…” I told the owner of the local funeral home when I called to get some advice on how to preserve/protect her until we made burial plans.

For three days Faith was kept in the fridge in a sealed baggie to slow decomposition. Several times a day and often at night I would visit with her, talk with her.

We bought a small prayer box at the Hallmark store, purchased some miniature pink roses, a magnifying glass and some two-part epoxy.

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Faith July 9, 2009

I knew we would have to work swiftly, so I set up an area in our living room with a white sheet as a back drop. prepared the flowers, and then it was time. I broke the water and held my baby in my hands for the first time. It was so surreal. I was being so careful as I knew just how fragile she was and to touch her or move her too much would mean disaster. Faith measured less than an inch long.

Her umbilical cord was long…I remember thinking how amazingly long it was for her age. I cut her cord…the final blow to this mama’s heart. I placed her on a bed of mini pink rose petals, she fit perfectly. I used the magnifying glass to examine every part of her tiny body. I took over a hundred pictures of her. I knew it would be my only chance. I held her hand…I saw her tiny mouth open for just a second…what perfect lips she had. I swear she smiled at me…

I laid her on a bed of soft pink rose petals and covered her with one as a blanket (with one arm over the edge of blanket as if she fell asleep like that).

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Finally, all my babies together

When it came time for burial, I placed items from all four of my angel babies in that casket with her. There was a stuffed Taz for Baby Sam (Aug 5, 2003), Peanut’s pregnancy journal (March 16, 2007), a letter I wrote to Baby Jordan the day after she passed and her Christmas tree ornament (July 16, 1996), and of course Faith. The boys each put in a ring from some Sponge Bob cupcakes we’d had early that week and two of their hot wheels, Bug wrote a letter to all four of them. This way, all four of our babies would be together. They would rest in peace in one place.

Right now I just can’t write anymore…thank you for letting me share.

Happy Angelversarry Faith Hope W. I hope you catch your balloon that I send to you after work today. I love you.

“God…because I could not hold her in my lap and tell her about you, would you please hold her on yours and tell her about me?” ~Unknown

Twenty Nine Hours

It’s been 28 hours since the boys left. It was so weird to watch the transition. B2 had actually gone outside to get something out of the van. As he walked outside I got a text, “We are outside” meaning Mr. Ex and grandma were here. I walked out with B1, my arm around his shoulders. B2 came back in to the hallway saying he saw Grandma’s car outside. Not one bit of excitement, not the, “MOM, DAD’S HERE!!!” I expected. So, we go outside and there is Dad…not even a little bit focused on the kids…he is around the car and getting meds ready to administer to his mother.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? You have not seen your children in TWENTY SIX DAYS and you cannot even focus TWO MINUTES on saying hello and giving hugs?? NOT ONE HUG…NOT ONE ounce of excitement…just a simple, “Get your things…but not all your things because we don’t have room for all your things and let’s go.”

I got the boys buckled in and B2 starts hugging me hard,

B2: I’ll miss you mom.

Me: I know hun, but you can call me later.

B2: Only if Dad lets me use his phone.

Me: I know hun, but you can text me too if you want.

B2: Oh ya, I forgot.

Me: Ok Bum, I love you more than Signing Time Videos

B2: I love you more than peanut butter and Nutella Sandwhiches

Being that he has lived on those for the previous two days I’d say he thinks pretty highly of me 🙂

B1’s conversation was much more telling of the relationship their father has damaged:

B1: See ya mom, we come back on Friday, right?

Me: Yes Buddy, and you can still call and stuff.

B1: What day is it today?

Me: It’s Friday.

B1: Dad, when we get home can I go visit Z (his friend) he should be at work with his mom until 6:30.

Dad: No, we are busy.

B1: Why can’t I go see Z if you are busy, then I can be not in your way.

Dad (now angry): I said no, end of story.

B1 *shrugs*: Love you mom, see you Friday.

I had a quick breakdown when they left and cried myself to sleep. I didn’t sleep long, but at least I slept. I felt a little better when I woke up. As tough as it was, the exchange was reassuring that Mr. Ex has not learned even a little bit how to deal with the boys. They will sense this. I know my boys will know my love for them…as I’ve said before, my actions outweigh his words.

It was only a couple of hours later I got a phone call:

B1: Hey Mom, are you busy?

Me: No, why? Are you guys coming back to town?

B1: No, Dad says he’s spent too much time in a vehicle today so he’s not going back there now. Can you bring me my DS?

Me: Your DS…you want me to drive to bring you your DS?

B1: Ya, I borrowed a game from T and want to play it.

Me: Why don’t you go play with Z or you’ve got the Wii, X-box, and PS2 to play there, you can live without this one DS game.

B1: Ya, okay. Bye Mom.

Me: Bye Buddy. Love you

B1: Me too.

When they left here initially, Mr. Ex had told them he needed to come back to town later in the day to do some things. They could get their bikes and the rest of their things. As is common…he didn’t follow through.

Within Two hours I started recieving texts from Mr. Ex’s phone: gesoshd;adfhadf shdfhadfuiladfdlfjkdfaduhf;

To which I replied, “Hi B2.”

This is how he texts me. We texted like this back and forth for a good ten minutes.

When I later told my friend about the text I said that was B2 texting me…he said, yep, I would have guessed the same thing.” (B2 always insists on sending him messages when we talk via Yahoo.)

These same texts started again at 8:24 am today. I actually fell asleep texting him…I didn’t sleep worth shit last night and was just falling to sleep when he started. I’m going to hate it when he learns to spell!! These texts are much too cute to grow out of.

At 11:30 Mr. Ex texted me saying he was on his way to town and could he stop to pick up the rest of the boys belongings. I told him I was not home and would be gone until after dark. I am tired of him thinking that everybody’s schedules run around his life. There is no reason he couldn’t have called and set up a time or asked if I was going to be around.

He then sent a text asking if B1’s bike was outside. I told him to ask B1 and that I didn’t think so. I haven’t heard anything since…I was sort of expecting a “are you home now, I see your van is in here.” I was going to tell him that I was out with a friend.

So…29 hours and I’m doing okay. My kids are awesome…they are strong, they seems to be fighting back…and expecting to be heard…WOO HOO.

Thank you to The Friend and Her Husband for both texting me within minutes of me posting that the boys were gone…and checking to make sure I was okay.

Thanks to the person I appologized to yesterday who sent me an email saying my appology was very touching (apparently he DOES read them). He’s amazing…one day I’ll tell you all about him. I couldn’t have a better friend right now to kick my ass and hold my hand (ya, he does both).

Today I caught up on some sleep and then paid bills and now am still just chilling…church tomorrow will bring me much comfort. It will be my step back into life. Until then I am honoring my heart, my grief.

Love you Bubba and Bum…see you on Friday XOXO