The Pitfalls

Reese, on the way home tonight:

"Hey, I got a great idea! You and me and Daddy can all live together at our house!"

Me: "Oh really? But where is Daddy going to sleep?"

Reese: "He can sleep wif you."

Me: "But what about Walda?"

Reese: "....hm...um...Wilda is mine Daddy's girlfriend, and her family, and her friend, I know her friend's name, it's Becka!..........................Wilda can sleep in the basement."

I wonder sometimes how his little mind works. I'm single now, which means that he gets more of my time and attention than he probably did when things were rough, and rocky and I was occupied with disentangling myself from something long, drawn out and awkward. And I guess it's every kid's dream when they come from a "broken home" that their mommy and daddy will get back together, and they can have the best of both worlds. He only barely remembers when we were together. I think. I don't know if he remembers that for sure, he was only two when we split. He remembers the good maybe, and glosses over the bad. It's hard to say. I don't want to tell him that it'll never happen, even though there's a very high likelihood that that is exactly the truth. But I do try to sympathize with him, and talk to him about how confusing it is, having two houses and, essentially, two lives to lead, when it would seem so much more simple if there was only one. I don't really know what he thinks of all this. It's hard to understand kid logic. I do know, however, that on Thursday night he was in the hospital Emergency department with a sprained elbow that his dad claims was from "horsing around" before bed. He told me when he got here that he "was not listening," and he "was going to sleep at the foot of daddy's bed" and then daddy pulled his arm and it hurt a lot. His dad made it sound innocent, like a tickle session gone wrong. The reality is, he's obviously having trouble controlling his temper, and my son was in the hospital til 2am waiting to xray his arm for something that is dancing perilously close to child abuse. I know he didn't call me that night because he was worried about what Reese would say, or maybe his girlfriend was there and I know she doesn't even want to acknowledge my existence (even though in his last photos of her, she appears to be wearing an engagement ring on her left hand...odd? Yeah, a lot) or maybe he was just horribly embarrassed at what he had done to our son. So this now means that I have to confront him about it, I have to confront child and youth, and I'm aiming for Reese's dad to consider some anger management classes or parenting classes or both. I'm not a world class parent, but I've certainly never hurt my son with anything more than clumsiness. Reese came to my house with large bruises he wouldn't or couldn't explain last summer. Now this. That's enough. That's not going to happen.


On a lighter note, Mae brought me home a stick of Blackpool Rock peppermint stick...and it was heavenly!!! And also, any company that makes candy in Beer, Lager and Lime, Whiskey, Brandy and Tia Maria flavors? They are SO making my wedding favors if I ever get married.