I was looking forward to our night alone together. Just you and me curled up on the couch watching that Netflix show that’ll take us months to finish. Last week was absolutely insane because of the holidays, and we are finally able to take a breath. The new year is right around the corner which means work is coming back soon too. A night with you is everything I need to soak up the last bit of Christmas “break.”
But the other one flaked again. So instead of Netflix and snuggles we try to comfort a confused, fussy toddler. The back and forth of her house to our house to whoever’s house in between has the baby exhausted. It’s difficult being tossed back and forth like a rag doll with only one side picking up the pieces. As soon as we get the baby put back together, it’s time to start all over again.
So I try my best to be what the baby needs so much-that missing piece. It’s not the same, but it helps. We hug it out and talk about what hurts us. Drying tears and calming cries, we settle down for the night. But this time it’s on separate couches where you rock your hurting child to sleep, and I rest from the night time routine. It’s not ideal, but it’s part of it.
You don’t just do this for fun because it’s way too difficult to be popular. You do it because you love them, both of them, with all of your heart. The bonus that comes from this family makes up for the hard times. So I sit here alone in my chair patiently waiting my turn.