184 : This Won't Be the Last Time

It was tough being a divorced parent.  Especially being the person that never saw this coming, was abandoned by her partner and was pretty much left to raise our boys on my own.  My Ex was involved in their lives, but not in the same way as if we were together still.  I was the primary parent in their lives.  I fed them.  I bought them clothes.  I took them to the doctor.  I was there for them.  Always.  I'm not saying this to get credit or to win.  I'm saying this because it's the simple truth.  I was there for them.  My Ex, however, was not.  He would be offended if he read this.  He would fight and argue that he was doing everything he could for them.  But I believe that deep down, even though he would never admit this, he knew that was not true.  I'm not sure if he was even capable of giving more to them, which made me sad for my children.  But I couldn't change him.  All I could do was be there for them, love them and hope that they would still grow up to be confident, well adjusted young men some day.  As much as I wanted their father to be present in their lives, it still was hard for me at times.  This past weekend for instance.  Typically I didn't come home after work on the weekends when the boys went with their dad.  It was difficult to see them leave.  So instead I made plans and my nanny helped pack them up and get them settled with their dad.  This past weekend, though, I wasn't feeling too great, so I just came home after work.  I walked in and the boys were disappointed it was me, having expected to see their dad.  It was a momentary relapse, and then they got excited at my arrival home.  Within the hour, their dad showed up.  As he walked in the door, my oldest burst into tears and gripped me for dear life.  He cried and begged to stay with me saying he did not want to go with daddy.  It was very tough to witness, probably for both of us.  But I will say my Ex responded well and before I knew it, the three of them were excited to leave together.  My youngest, by the way, was always excited to see his dad.  While I knew this was for the best, it made me a little sick too if I'm being honest.  They departed and I got on with my evening.  Fast forward to Sunday when the boys returned.  My oldest led the way into the apartment and ran straight up to me.  He clearly missed me!  He didn't even notice I had a different hair color (see post #183).  He sat on my lap and refused to say goodbye to his dad.  My youngest, though, was a different story.  He chased my Ex to the door crying, almost begging him to stay.  And when the door shut, he sat down against the door and sobbed for what felt like an eternity to me.  It made my heart hurt.  I didn't want to hold onto anger at all, but I hated my Ex at that moment, I'm not going to lie.  I hated that there was nothing I could do to comfort my son because all he wanted was his dad.  And I hated that I had been there for my son from the moment he was born and it was still his dad that he was crying over.  I knew it was wrong, but that is how I felt.  I wanted so much more for my kids and it bothered me to see them hurting in any way.  He was so young, yet I felt like he already deserved so much better than this.  Eventually, he stopped crying and climbed on my lap to cuddle.  This wouldn't be the last time I would feel this way, I was sure.  Hopefully, it would get easier as time passed.  Hopefully.