Return of The Kids

Today was a "red letter"day. The children came back today. My house has been strangely quiet and echoey for far too long.  I have got used to doing whatever I please and answering to no one. A meal could be half a can of beans and no-one would be there to bat and eyelid over it or complain. I had time to dream and work on hot sunny beach days without that nagging voice telling me I should be doing something fun with the kids and soon they will be all grown up .... My time was my own  and I owned it. My energy to be dispensed on what I felt like.

Tonight that all changed though. I busied myself making supper for the returning horde, minus one who is still overseas. ( I really am missing K) It would be Shepherds Pie and salad. Fairly ordinary fare. I hoped it would he homey and welcoming. I have this secret hope that my house will be HOME for the children. The place where they yearn to be.

I always feel out of sorts when the kids come home. In fact it's sort of a nervous feeling.I felt it as I set six places at the dinner table. Will I remember how to mother? Will I cope? Will they still love me? Strange that.

The doorbell rang  and N's excited voice came over the intercom."Open up." I felt excited, elated, but there was a squeeze of dread there too. I opened up the gate from inside the house and listened till the vehicle came to a stop and then I pressed the button again to close the gate.

No-one came to the door. "Do I go out to meet them, or do I wait inside?" Anxiety. I went outside. I saw M. I hugged him. He gave me a stiff and awkward hug back. It's a difficult process letting go of one parent and moving in with the next. I am making inward transitions myself.  M S seemed the happiest to be home and hugged me warmly and told me she was glad to be home. I'm grateful.

D,my teenage boy, was chatty and hung out with me for a bit. Telling me stories of his cricket tour. He showed me his eyebrows. Two patches had been shaved off each eyebrow, as part of some initiation program from his cricket tour. He showed me his legs, they also had two racing stripes shaved into them. We chat nice and easily together, in stark contrast with the tension that was  between us before he left. Thank goodness for small mercies.

Eventually Roger leaves. He looks a little relieved. I pack him some dinner. I hope it tastes alright. Liz is apparently a good cook. He has kept his weight off. I'm feeling fat. I'm hoping the apron is hiding some of my bulges. I still feel cast off. Rejected. Will this feeling ever release it's grip on me? Will I always be defined by the fact that Roger discarded me? Who is he anyway to define me in this way? A no good rotten cheat who DIDN'T WANT TO BE WITH ME ANYMORE.

I'm never very good at transitions. It will take a little while for all of us to settle down into our life as it has been without the interruption of a holiday with dad. They will miss him, but even that will ease with time and soon the family machine will be roaring full steam ahead with the business of life and life will feel back to normal again.

I vow not to be so tense this time around. I vow to have more happy family moments. I vow to be more loving. To be more fun. To read more stories.I vow to laugh more and relax. I remind myself to try to hold onto some of that "essence of me" without drowning in motherhood, making ends meet and exhaustion. I ache and ache inside. I fight feelings of inadequacy. I mourn the family we once were. The family I wished we were. I'm hurt,  I'm angry, I'm happy to have my children home. I like their company. I am an oriental mix of sweet and sour feelings with a few down in the dump - lings.

 I desperately need to make peace with my life as it is. I'm a single mom of five children. I struggle financially. I struggle with feelings of rejection. I feel lonely in a crowd of 5 kids. I'm the only adult.I'm the lone policewoman. Stopping squabbles, being "unfair" and "not understanding". I'm unpopular at times, when dishes need doing and curfews have to me met. BUT I am a woman and a mother and I am alive. This is my life to live. I'll only live once.

Struggle = opportunity. I've hit the opportunity jackpot.

Today reminds me I still have a long road ahead of me in my quest for healing.