My not so peaceful sleep was interrupted by a strange sound this morning. I jumped out of my bed and ran straight towards my son’s room, but instead, was greeted by a bathroom full of throw up. I said to myself at 3 a.m. “sometimes parenting suck!” He made it to the bathroom, but was throwing up all over a closed toilet. Three minutes later and a floor full of last nights dinner, I told him wash himself off and go back to bed. Forty minutes later, the bathroom was spotless. I couldn’t help but to think, just a couple of months ago, I wouldn’t have been the only one whose sleep would’ve been interrupted. So, I grabbed my phone and texted my “Estranged husband” because, if I’m up, he’s gonna be up, if you’re here or not….
Me: “I have throw up all over my bathroom!”
Him: “who threw up?!
Me: “your son!”
Never in a million years would I have thought that my household would’ve been separated. That my son would have two homes, but things do happen. At the beginning of my separation I would sit at home and try to figure out how it happened. Whose fault it was, but I would be lying to myself if I tried to convince myself that I was the victim, but if there was a scale of 1-10 of who did the most f*cked up sh*t, I’ll have about a 4 and he’ll have a 10 or maybe an 8. I had to get over it. I could be sitting at home wracking my brain on trying to figure out, how and why it went wrong or move on. Because if it was one thing that I did know for sure was, he wasn’t sitting at home doing the same.
If I kept doing that to myself, I figured there would be two things that I would’ve wanted to happen: 1) I wanted my marriage back or 2) I wanted blame myself for what went wrong. The first part, at first, it wasn’t a clear, “no”, but after a while, it became one. There was no way we both would’ve went back to the way we were and sometimes you have to come to that reality. I knew that I would always have doubts and always having doubts will just make me miserable and unhappy and we would be arguing all day and all night just because, “you’ve done this before, don’t think I forgot!” and “How do I know?! because I know you!” and if that happened, I would have no one else to blame but myself because I didn’t go with my better judgment and move on. You can’t blame anyone but yourself when you know better but choose to act like you don’t. The Second part? I was NOT gonna blame myself!
So I had to get over it, and adjust to the changes in my household. Sometimes it sucks, my curtains fall, sometimes the light bulbs need changing; I’m too short to reach, I live in New York, so sometimes a mouse tries to invade and turn my life upside down, but I have people who can help me in those areas. Am I lonely? I was, I think everyone goes through those times, but I read something from an author, that said,
“The difference between alone and lonely is the woman who knows her value. Alone is where you fall in love with your crazy self. It’s irresistible. Trust your journey. Don’t force it – Sometimes alone is exactly where your a** needs to be” – Bereolaesque
Change is good, especially when you know you need it and when it brings out the best in you. Now I’m enjoying my time with the new man of the house. He does a good job keeping me on my toes. Sometimes he forgets that he’s only ten years old and I’m still the number one adult in here. I’m also enjoying, brunch, lunch and laughter and all the eye candy that Brooklyn has to offer…
That’s how, Three Became Two.