Whirlwind of Emotions

~Magickal Graphics~
Jared had left and started his new life on the 4th of this month, and I was grappling with those emotions of him being gone. However, in the same breath I was elated that my two "middle men" (as I lovingly refer to them) were going to be here in a week and two days at the time. My poor brain and heart were confused because they didn't know how to feel. I'd find myself crying and smiling at the same time on some nights, worry for my son and joy for my middle men's return home.
Crazy huh?
So I managed to get the house together and it was Saturday morning, the 12th of March. The younger kids dad was out in the garage making room for a kitchen table that his mother was bringing over. It was a windy day out and the kids were playing up front and I stood outside pacing waiting for my boys to arrive looking at the clock on my blackberry what seemed like every ten minutes. They were to be here at noon and it was now 2:30 and no sight of or phone call from them at all. I'm now pacing, finally I call them and they tell me they are stuck in dead traffic at the Hoover Dam. I finally decide to sit on one of the kitchen chairs that were sitting in the garage and we all gathered round and were talking. His mom starts talking about how a woman is supposed to take care of the man and some biblical jibberish I really wasn't interested in at all. I bit my tongue because what I wanted to tell her was the man shouldn't be an asshole to you in the process if you choose to "care for him". I'm more of the type of person who believes that a relationship is fifty fifty. It should be equally shared chores, and equally shared love and effort for all parties involved.
Okay, got on a tangent there, let's get back to the story now shall we?
Finally I go inside and sit on the couch. We are watching some movie which I don't remember because I was too busy worrying about when my kids would get here. They open the door around a little after 4 p.m. and come running to me. My oldest middle man hugs me and my youngest has these wide brown eyes and a smile on his face as he shrieks with excitement to see me. I hug them both so tightly, tell them how tall they got since I last saw them Christmas Day at the airport, and then we start our visit.
It was a good visit, despite an episode of my youngest middle man, Christian, getting sick at the mall on an outing we had taken Sunday. We watched Where the Wild Things are that night and I was thankful he felt better on Monday. We went to the boys baseball game on Monday, Tuesday headed to Red Rock which Dusty absolutely loved, Wednesday we went to the park with a mini-picnic of sandwiches, chips and cookies, and then headed to my daughter's dance class. Thursday came and the mood of all my kids changed so dramatically.
Dusty was quiet and somewhat melancholy, but he didn't cry. He told me he wished they could stay one more day. I told him to call his dad and ask him, but he said no. I even asked him if he could just pick them up early in the morning on Friday like 5 a.m. or something like that and he still said no. What the difference is between sleeping in a hotel or sleeping at their mom's is and leaving the same day back to his house I don't know. didn't ask, but should have asked. We played basketball in the back yard, and played simon says a bunch of times while we waited for him to come get them. Christian kept crying and he laid his head on the wall on the opening between the kitchen and living room. I was making dinner and he looks at me with those big brown eyes of his and I see the pouty face and then the tears and he tells me "I don't want to go." I hugged him. I managed NOT to cry, which was so so hard for me to do.
We ate and I held him on the couch, he was tired. Dusty sat next to me and was showing me his transformers and their powers and speed. Explaining to me what each one is capable of doing. Then, the dog started barking and I jumped and there was a knock on the door.
It was him.
He raced in here so quickly and wouldn't even talk just for a moment. It was like he was racing to get out of here. Christian began crying, not just a whimper but sobbing profusely, saying over and over again "I don't want to go" as I'm lacing up his shoes and trying to keep it together...then I lost it. I looked at Dusty and told him "I did pretty good, huh, didn't cry all day," and smiled at him through all the tears. He looked at me so sadly and I knew he didn't want to go either, because he told me so.
What kills me is not so much the fact that my boys live with their father, their are dads that get custody which if they are fit to do so isn't a big deal, it's the fact that he cannot see the pain they are in when they have to leave their siblings and their mother and travel over 1200 miles away from them. How he can't see what it's doing to them on an emotional level. How he can't see that it is so much better in THEIR interests to be closer to both of us. Or maybe he sees it(you'd have to be blind not to) perhaps he just doesn't give a damn.
Kalaya, John John and Peter all hugged their brothers and said their I love you's to the boys. Then ran upstairs crying. I hugged and kissed them and told them I loved them one more time. I told Dusty to call me. Then he picked up Christian who was still crying and through his tears and sobbing he holds his arm out to me over his dad's shoulder and tells me " I don't want to gooooooooo." I grab his hand one last time and tell him "it's okay baby you'll be back soon," and they walked through the door.
I completely lost it at that point, crying uncontrollably on the front of my porch. Praying to the Goddess to protect my babies in my absence, to watch over them while they are gone. I watched the suv drive away into the darkness beginning to count down the days until we are together again.