Mome reads Mommy, My daughter's way to spell it when she was younger... It stuck. My son calls me Mome... just like it looks. I now sign all my notes to them "Love, Mome". It's our inside secret and makes them smile. I always want them to smile.

Friday, September 6, 2013

One More Chance

Tough Day.

Kids are adjusting to the "Back to School" routine just fine... probably better than me.

This morning, though, Handsome had a special request.

He wants his Dad to "move back in."

First of all.

Dad has never lived HERE.

Dad made choices, as did I, that caused us to lose the house that the kids were brought into.  Just saying that, makes me get teary.

I struggled,  for years, to make a family and make it right for the kids.  I lost myself, and the mother I wanted to be.
I, finally, made the decision to put an end to the constant disappointment, and move forward without "Dad."

The kids were too young to know the devastation is was causing them.

They no longer remember the constant fighting (Puddim Pop was too young to even notice).

They never realized my constant frustration was never about them.

All they know now, is that Dad is "clean".... and deserves another chance.

Another Chance.

I give my kids several chances to do the right thing,

They don't understand why Daddy doesn't get another chance.

Just. One. More. Chance.

1 comment:

  1. Wow. This blew me away. Very evocative, yet no specific ending. Nice post --- and I'm sorry you have this experience to write about! :(


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