The Daily Chai and Kids of Divorce, Part 1

Today's grande Chai Latte came with the apocalyptic warning that they were running out of the chai mix and I might not be able to get my latte tomorrow. I better enjoy this one like it's the last one I will ever have. It's damn good too so at least I will have good memories. 

People ask me all the time, "How are the kids?" when I tell them my ex and I have separated. It's a tough question because I'd like to say they are awesome and resilient, but I can't see inside their heads. I don't REALLY know how they feel about this or how much they're holding inside. I told them both from the beginning that they can talk to me anytime about anything and it was okay to be sad. I thought that was important because we're always telling our kids, don't cry, it's okay, here's a cookie, but don't cry. Don't negatively express yourself, don't express anger or hurt or sadness, be happy and for the love of god, don't cry.

Well, fuck. This sucks, they SHOULD cry if they want to, this is possibly the shittiest thing that will ever happen to them. I know when my dad left, I thought my life was over. Everything changed. The circumstances of my separation are very different from my parents, but the effect is the same. Split houses, not seeing each parent every day. Not being a family in the sense that you have always understood family. So, my dear girls, cry if you need to because this sucks. Lord knows I've cried rivers since I made this decision.

I hope my girls feel they can talk to me when they're sad. The problem comes when they don't talk to me and they hold it in, for whatever reason. Maybe they don't want to make me feel bad, maybe they just can't express the reasons for their unhappiness. Maybe they are just tired of talking about it. Fuck, sometimes I feel like if I have to talk about it anymore, I might go crazy. Other times I can't stop talking about it. And the thing is, I can't force them to express every emotion they are having, no matter how badly I want to know what is going on inside their heads. However, there is one story about Kate that I can relate here that makes me think she's doing okay.

She was freaking out on me because she didn't want to have a bath. And I'm not talking refusal to have a bath, I'm talking full out hysterics because I told her she needed to wash her hair during her bath. We got into a screaming match about it and I had to leave the room because we were going nowhere and the mom guilt about yelling at her was settling in. Plus, I was losing my shit just a tiny bit too much over the bath war and I needed to back off. When I came back, she was in the bath, but hiccoughing and crying like a crazy girl. I knew there was more to this than a bath and thought it was maybe more about this being my last night before I handed the reins over to my ex for the week. I didn't want to make that suggestion though because I needed to hear it from her. For all I knew, she was upset because she'd had a fight with her best friend, or a boy had teased her or the teacher got mad at her. The minute I suggest it's about our family, she'd latch on to that and I'd be left wondering if that was really the problem.

After her bath, she was still crying a bit and I asked her again, "What is this really about? I know you don't like your bath, but for god's sake, you have one every other night, why is this a constant battle? I think there's more to this than you're telling me, but you gotta say it to me, you gotta tell me yourself what's up."

"I don't like baths and I don't like when you yell at me and I don't like...that...you and daddy aren't together anymore," the last word ending with a howl of anguish. My heart, hardened by the ridiculousness over the bath war, melted into a puddle and I gathered my girl up in my arms while she sobbed about us breaking up. Finally she started to talk and she said, "We won't go to the park together anymore, we won't go swimming or skating together as a family and we..won't....go to DISNEYLAND EVER." Thank fuck that kid has her priorities straight. I stroked her hair and I told her to talk and to cry and to be sad, that it was okay to be sad about this shitty thing that had happened. But then I thought, she needs to understand something...something vital about what is happening here.

"Kate, you need to listen to me. I know you are sad that we won't do stuff the four of us and that's true. There are things like dinner and stuff that we won't do as a family anymore, but I want you to really think about this. When have we ever really done anything the four of us? I'm the one that takes you to the park, I'm the one that goes skating with you, I'm the one that takes you swimming and shopping and to the movies. We've been the three musketeers since Anna was born and mummy and daddy splitting up isn't going to change that. I'm still going to do those things with you. The best part is, daddy is going to do those things with you now too. So now you have two parents that are going to take you places and play with you and do different things so that you get to have all sorts of fun and spend time with each of us."

It was like a lightbulb went off over Kate's head. Truly. She stopped crying and nodded her head. I could practically see the realization spreading across her face. Ever since then, she's been happy and looking forward to the future, looking forward to moving to a new house and starting at a new school. Don't get me wrong, not all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. She still has her moments of doubt and sadness, but they don't last long and she carries on. As we all do. The best part is my ex told me tonight that he had them out tobogganing yesterday, so I know I spoke the truth to her that night.

The Daily Chai is Hungover

Today's Chai is still at Starbucks and I'm lying in bed hoping it will magically appear at my bedside. No such luck.

Last night was a trip. Managed to drink enough wine that I got to see what it looks like coming up the other way. My buddy said, "Note for next time, stop about halfway through the big bottle instead of drinking the whole thing."  My reply, "Ha! Maybe I should stop halfway through a small bottle. That would be even better." Anyway, it's been a month or two since I indulged and I came out relatively unscathed. A little hungover but basically all in one piece. The last time I almost broke my nose when I tripped over my own winter boots and face planted in the icy snowbank. Nose bled for an hour and I cried to my bestie for longer because...oh, for so many reasons. Questioning my choices, worried about my kids, wishing things were different. I was in shock because the ground rushing at my face was reminiscent of my bike accident in May when I broke various parts of my body, including my face, which I'm rather fond of, so the experience was traumatic. 

My girlfriend came by around 7 and we got right into it. She's more of a friend of a friend, but it was a good time and we had lots to talk about. Seems to be an epidemic of men who don't take their parenting responsibilities seriously. Men...take heed! It's easy to let you wife do it all because she will naturally take on each new task, feeling like it's her duty. But just because she does all those things with the kids, doesn't mean she's happy about it and you can sit around playing video games with your hand in your pants. A word of advice (I might still be married if I'd insisted on this): take your kid(s) completely out of the house for a couple hours EVERY week. I know, you might be thinking that is just a crazy fucking thing to suggest, but trust me.  I don't give a shit if you just drive around with them, take them to the park, the mall, to work, I really don't care, but get them and yourself out of there. This serves two purposes. 1) the obvious one is it gives your wife a pause in her busy life so she doesn't go on a psychotic break and drown all of you in the tub one day and 2) you will get to experience HOW MUCH FUN it is to wrangle one or more children in an uncontrolled environment like the mall. I liken it to herding cats with a string. And maybe, just fucking maybe, you will realize that hauling those kids around everywhere, all the time, isn't, like, oh my god, such a fun job!! It's stressful and people judge you in public if you aren't the perfect parent and your kids CONSTANTLY ask you to buy them things and you have to say no all the time and then you say yes and your mother looks at you and says, "You spoil those kids!" Even though you said no five hundred previous times and just had a tiny weak moment. Or you are at the pool and one kid is hanging off you like a koala bear the other one is shouting, "Look at me mom, mum, mum,  MOTHER! Look at what I can do!" EVERY FIFTEEN SECONDS. If men experienced that constant pulling in every direction for even a couple hours a week, they would be more sympathetic to their wives. 

So yes, in my humble opinion, marriages everywhere could be saved if men would just take their kids out of the house once a week. Oh. And without fucking being asked to do so. A little voluntary action on your part would be the bomb.  Pretty simple eh?

Anyway, last night I had a surprise visitor from my way back past which was amazing. Funny how 15-20 years can pass and you are still buddies the way you always were, no matter how life has changed you. And he's still the same good guy I always knew, tucking me in on the couch when I passed out! I wonder how many times he's had to do that? Not much has changed! Still sitting on the same couches in my mother's house, shooting the shit about fights and tattoos and our ridiculous mutual friends who have not changed either. The only difference was my mom wasn't there smoking with us and we had to go outside to smoke. Good times.