Phone Calls Are Tough…I’m Tougher

I’m sitting here listening to my son talk on the phone with his dad.

I have a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that his discussions are on the phone, because of the choice my husband is making. My children need and deserves a father. Every. Day. IN their home. Not on the phone. Not via text. Not for a fun evening of fast food and outings.

I just wish he would step up and be the man he was. And understand that he is hurting us all. Not just me.

It sickens me that they have such limited contact with him…because it is just a shadow of what it used to be. They are so hungry for him and he just gives them little drips. He’s not here for bedtime, mealtime, morning rituals, little laughs, small moments, huge accomplishments, homework, tears, joy, and every other moment that make up life. He hasn’t been for months. Even when he lived here, while he was lying to me…telling me we were working on our marriage as he was having his affair. He checked out a long time ago.

He could be with them, here, all day, every day. Just like he should be. And he is choosing himself and her over all of us.

I am not the mom who says you can’t see/talk to the kids. Yes, it’s true I want to know the schedule so that I can prepare myself if I have to see him; however, I have never once said no or not let them answer the phone. In fact, I go so far as to not answer the phone, and let the kids do it themselves, so that he’s not afraid to call the house (in case he has to talk to me.)

Yet, he continues to seek his life outside of his family…and then swoops back in and tries to strut around being Disney Dad. Do you have any idea how many articles of new clothing my daughters have received from him in the last two weeks? And valentine’s day was a joke. WE used to give them each a small box of chocolates…they ended up with a large haul this year from him. Yes, your wallet is what they need.

They certainly don’t need to see you do the right thing and save our family.

Okay, I clearly had to get this out.

I have anger and sadness. This is raw emotion. And while the things I am saying are true, they are not mine to fix. They are not mine to hold on to. And they are not mine to be able to do a darn thing about.

So, here is where I let it go.

Here is where I focus on the fact that I am thankful rather than angry. I am so thankful that my husband still calls my son and daughters. I am so thankful, that even in his immense selfishness, he can still reach out and speak to them. And he still wants to see them even if it’s when it’s convenient. That, even though he’s missing the real moments of life, he is still trying…even if it is in a manner I don’t agree with.

Here is the part where I commend myself for being both mother and father to them…full-time, even though I’m exhausted and hurt. Here is the place where I admit that I am strong. Stronger than I ever even thought.

This is where I take a deep breath, turn my hands over, unclench my fists, let my flattened palms face up and release.

I am letting it go.

I have no control over any action but that one.

I will repeat as necessary. (Which I am assuming will be often…)

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