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Friday, September 24, 2010

Her 3rd Birthday!

Elise got a Dell Inspiron mini (Nickelodeon version) for her 3rd birthday from my father and me. My Dad doesn't even own a computer or care to, but she LOVES it! It's pretty cool looking too. Being 3, she's not a very materialistic person so she doesn't care so much that she got oodles of presents, but she did act like one of those people on Wheel of Fortune who just won a car when it arrived. She was hoping her Grandpa Roger himself were delivering it, so she was a little disappointed that she didn't get to see him. Even though I've heard it's better to come from a broken home than to live in one I still think maybe it's better we stay together for now. He is not the most romantic person in the world or the sweetest, but it's probably safer to keep him around for now. I really wish I could trust him, that he was sweet, and that he didn't take our love for granted, but there isn't anything better for us right now. I hate that we don't go on dates or that he'll take us out only to abandon us under the pretense of "oops, forgot to roll up my windows on the truck at home, be right back!", leaving us alone at the bouncy park without transportation or money while he disappears who knows where. He is SO inconsistent with his moods and given our past I worry a lot of the time that it's because of drugs. I'm always worrying that one day he'll push it too far and we'll have to leave him. I have nightmares, so does she apparently. I'm afraid his mood swings will get like they were 5 years ago. I know there is no dealing with a speed freak. Pills, crack, coke, meth...they all are a recipe for madness. There is no compassion, no pity, no remorse when you're dealing with someone like that. And there is a part of him I feel is unreachable. No matter how adorable his baby is or how pleading I become he can be cruel beyond forgiveness. Which is how I've become. Hardened, unforgiving. I remember every stroke of evil he's painted on my canvas. But at night, as we lay together with Elise between us, things are purposefully forgotten so I can rest and enjoy the beauty of living 3 in a bed with our daughter. She reminds us to read a Psalm every night, saying "Amen!' loudly when we're done. I read her her bedtime stories then she tells me to turn the light off. We immediately get into "cuddle position", where she curls up in my belly and my arms wrap around her. Sometimes she hums songs or pets either one of us on our arms or face, and I fall asleep so much easier than I ever did before. Sometimes she awakens from a nightmare, or still in it, yelling "No! Stay away!", and we both wake up to comfort her until she's aware it was only a bad dream. I feel like this is the right way for families to be. We are all where we belong - together. I've never been a cuddly person, (not that I remember anyway), but I have become one. She allows me to be and I love it and who I am: A good mommy. I don't think it's changed him much one way or the other and I think, "How can it NOT?". How can he stay so selfish, so in love with being trapped inside his own self and not feel alone? Can't he see that this is how things should be? I love these times. I only wish he did, too. These are the days of wonder, vulnerability, of feeling like the fragile human God meant me to be. I would give anyone anything to make them feel as whole as I feel in these moments. I wonder who he is inside? And am I wrong for caring? I'm so confused...I can only be who I am. And on nights like these, with the bed full of love and family, and the pounding rain and thunder outside, I am a very grateful person.