Pete & Repeat
This morning as I walked Miles into school he asked me again when his father was coming for the weekend.
"Exactly one week," I said.
"Aw, that's so looonnng! I really miss him!"
"I know, it's hard to wait. But we've got playdates with Max and Elijah this weekend, so you're booked up, man! Next weekend will be here before you know it." I pushed the hair back from his eyes. His beautiful almond eyes.
I'd spoken with the school nurse last week about Miles' weight fixation. She spoke with the school counselor, who suggested that Miles was feeling alienated from his father.
Not that I couldn't have told you that.
She suggested we try to involve Daniel more in Miles' daily life. This is, I think, a great plan. Miles can call his dad on our way home from school. We had been trying to get him on the phone for a week and had heard nothing. Miles, ever diligent, called every evening and left halting, six-year-old dreamy-voice messages. He never complained that Daniel didn't answer, but this morning he had a pure frustration meltdown so intense that I had to walk away and count to ten.
Okay, maybe thirty.
After the morning assembly I walked home and texted Daniel on the way. I'd have called, but after a week of orphaned voicemails, my gut told me he was not merely busy, but was avoiding me.
D: Can you pls send your itin 4 next weekend? Miles has been calling. Can you pls call back?
I went out to my clients and returned home to an email from Daniel.
Oh, I think you can guess.
He wrote that due to "challenges in the last couple weeks, both good and not," he would not be coming next weekend. However, he has decided to come the following weekend.
This he informs me.
I hit the table and "Unnnnnh!-ed" in frustration and anger and general seething hate for a person who, despite my continued benefit-of-doubt giving and inner wounded soul-hushing because this is not about me...despite all that, he has remained true to form.
And left me hanging with a weekend full of plans which include travel and event attendance, including tickets which cannot be refunded. Of course I will keep my plans. I will also let him be the one to tell Miles and Jack that he won't be showing up.
Of course my parents will take care of the boys. Of course my family will clean up yet another mess left by the person who sends checks two weeks late with no warning or explanation. Who is convinced that a weight-loss contest with a six year old is a good idea.
Who seems determined to disappoint his children at every turn.
Who writes me unfathomably inconsiderate emails and signs them "Yours."
"Exactly one week," I said.
"Aw, that's so looonnng! I really miss him!"
"I know, it's hard to wait. But we've got playdates with Max and Elijah this weekend, so you're booked up, man! Next weekend will be here before you know it." I pushed the hair back from his eyes. His beautiful almond eyes.
I'd spoken with the school nurse last week about Miles' weight fixation. She spoke with the school counselor, who suggested that Miles was feeling alienated from his father.
Not that I couldn't have told you that.
She suggested we try to involve Daniel more in Miles' daily life. This is, I think, a great plan. Miles can call his dad on our way home from school. We had been trying to get him on the phone for a week and had heard nothing. Miles, ever diligent, called every evening and left halting, six-year-old dreamy-voice messages. He never complained that Daniel didn't answer, but this morning he had a pure frustration meltdown so intense that I had to walk away and count to ten.
Okay, maybe thirty.
After the morning assembly I walked home and texted Daniel on the way. I'd have called, but after a week of orphaned voicemails, my gut told me he was not merely busy, but was avoiding me.
D: Can you pls send your itin 4 next weekend? Miles has been calling. Can you pls call back?
I went out to my clients and returned home to an email from Daniel.
Oh, I think you can guess.
He wrote that due to "challenges in the last couple weeks, both good and not," he would not be coming next weekend. However, he has decided to come the following weekend.
This he informs me.
I hit the table and "Unnnnnh!-ed" in frustration and anger and general seething hate for a person who, despite my continued benefit-of-doubt giving and inner wounded soul-hushing because this is not about me...despite all that, he has remained true to form.
And left me hanging with a weekend full of plans which include travel and event attendance, including tickets which cannot be refunded. Of course I will keep my plans. I will also let him be the one to tell Miles and Jack that he won't be showing up.
Of course my parents will take care of the boys. Of course my family will clean up yet another mess left by the person who sends checks two weeks late with no warning or explanation. Who is convinced that a weight-loss contest with a six year old is a good idea.
Who seems determined to disappoint his children at every turn.
Who writes me unfathomably inconsiderate emails and signs them "Yours."
6 Comments:
I'm sad for your boys that this seems to be the relationship with their Father. The hope is always that he realizes how much he's screwing up, and changes his ways. I'm just wondering, do you ever worry about how your leaving them with their grandparents on what seems like a fairly regular basis effects them as well? I know you have a life to live, and its hard as a single parent with two small children to make that balance. Harder still if you truly are their soul provider. No judgements here, just wondering as its something I don't think I've seen you address.
Childhood is so very short in the life of an adult.
Just ask the old folks: they all say, "cherish them now, they will soon be grown."
I'm not that old, but I've seen it. You and I will soon wake up to realize they are all grown.
That, my dear, will be your late satisfaction for your ex's inexusable, sniffling piss-ant pass at parenting.
Small comfort for the boys.
Angry along with you, broken hearted for them. Never did my time with my kids take more priority then when my time with them became somewhat limited for a while. When they finally could come for week long visits I was ecstatic.
My father was distant. I got him to leave work early ONCE to be in the stands for a Little League game, and he was late. Men are often cowards and don't understand the value they bring to their children's lives, often because they play little or no role in those lives even when married (we live in the burbs and the fathers get home late at night).
You can't make this man have any interest in his children. I never figured out how to make my father love me in the way I needed, so I had to settle for him loving me in the way he could. Your sons will have to make the same journey themselves, and nothing you can do will lessen the pain or help them gain that insight faster.
The hardest thing in the world is watching your child hurt.
I grew up with the same kind of situation -- I can empathize with what your boys are going through :/
i don't have kids and i'm not a parent... but i was once married to a deadbeat dad and the profound affect of his neglect on his daughter shamed me and it wasn't even me doing the neglecting.
i am glad for your kids that they have at least one parent to care for them... but i am still upset for them...
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