Today's chai is still at Starbucks. Balls.
Well, it was awkward. We talk pretty regularly, I mean, I live in the same house with him every other week when it's my week to have the kids, but we avoid each other as much as possible. But dinner in a public place with our kids is not something we've done since before we broke up. What to say? What to talk about? Anyone who knows me knows that I have a compulsion to talk through silences, that I perceive most silences as uncomfortable and I chatter away to put people at ease. Or myself at ease, as is more likely the case. So as we sat down, I cast about for something to say, but my words sounded stiff and unnatural in my own ears and I'm sure he was thinking the same. Then I started telling him the plan for my upcoming trip to Vancouver with the girls and things eased up a bit.
And so it went. We talked about how we're going to divide up our stuff when we move and if we're going to get movers and if the buyers of our house are going to sell their house soon, none of which was so bad except then Kate said, "I like that we're all together," in her innocent way. Or maybe not so innocent way. It must have been so weird for her to celebrate this birthday, the first one where she is the product of a broken home. Even with all the new-fangled words and attitudes about what makes up a family, that phrase "broken home" continues to resonate in my head.
But that girl is plucky, I'll say that for her. I know her candle wish was that her dad and I will get back together because she said, "It wasn't about a boy my age, it was about an older boy and an older girl, not me. If it comes true, I'll let you know. But I figured I needed help so I wished it twice" Uh huh. So subtle. Poor kid. However, she was quite thrilled with her cupcakes so my earlier sugar coma (from testing the icing) and my weakened bi-ceps (from icing the cakes) were well worth it.
As I put Kate to bed tonight, I held her in my arms and told her how she took her sweet ass time coming into this world (two hours of pushing) and how she wasn't breathing when she came out. She was a perfectly beautiful, healthy baby that I'd carried with no complications for 40 weeks, but because she took so long to come out, she almost died. If I'd had her at home, she likely would have died. I told her that she didn't want to leave me and she's never wanted to leave me since, she's been my constant companion since the moment she finally decided to grace us with her first cry and I hoped it would always be so.
And then Anna got super jealous and conked her head on my head and started laughing like a loon.