Sleep over took me once last night, for no more then 2 hours. Then I awoke to thoughts of loneliness and solitude. Trying my hardest to not walk down the hallway into my children's room again, but failing miserably. Reading a book to distract myself from my thoughts, never quite drowning out the ever turning cogs in my mind. Tomorrow marks the 2 week mark of my children being gone. 5 days ago I saw my Lily and Austin, but its almost 2 weeks since seeing my eldest, my Lucas boy. Each day gets harder to talk to him on the phone. The begging and pleading in his voice for me to come and see him. How do I tell him I am not welcomed at the home of his grandparents? How do I tell him that his daddy is keeping him from me? I reassure him I will see him soon and that I love him very much. My heart breaks every time he gets on the phone. He lost his second tooth the other day at school. I have yet to see that toothy smile. I hold his first tooth next to me and remember back to that day with fondness as I plucked it out of his mouth as it hung by a thread. Him giggling over the fact that he lost his tooth. My big boy, almost 7 years old.
Austin, who is so chipper, who thinks he is on a mini vacation at grandma and grandpa's, so blissfully innocent to all that is going on around him. Knowing mommy and daddy won't ever be living together again, but wanting to so much to be back in my arms. As I stood outside this morning watching the sunrise, it is once again hot air balloon season. I remember back to last year at this time, the first time I walked out the front door to take Lucas to the bus stop, and seeing a hot air balloon filling up right behind the back wall of the complex. I ran back inside to grab Austin, who was wearing nothing more then his underwear and still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. I took him outside and pointed, the look of sheer awe and excitement on his face. The question's that followed from his non-stop 3 year old mouth. Asking how they flew up into the sky with fire, telling him it was the hot air that made it possible, and the innocent response of, "Silly mommy, it's hot outside, there is plenty of hot air."
Yearning to hear my sweet Lily girls voice calling, "Mama....MAMA" when she awakes from her slumber. Walking into the room and her arms waiting outstretched for me. Getting half awake kisses with her crazy hair all over the place. Her, "Hi momma" as we walk to the living room and snuggle into the couch for morning cartoons. Her sweet singing voice of Twinkle Twinkle and half sang ABC's. What I would give to snuggle them all close to me right now. To smell their babiness, to kiss their cherub cheeks, to hear their laughter and squeals as we get into a tickle match. To be piled on in bed by them all. I know this won't be forever, but every day that goes by, is one more day of their childhood that I lose. It breaks me, but yet I smile for everyone else to see.
Only few people know how I really feel. Only few have seen my tears, because truly what good does crying do? He won't break me, he doesn't deserve any of my anger and frustration, he doesn't deserve one more of my tears. 7 1/2 years of this I went through because of my children. I know others have held on longer and stuck it out for the children's sake, but that isn't me. He didn't deserve any more of me, my smiles, my laughs, my kisses, so this is the end result. My children being whisked off in the middle of the night, and me left standing empty. Like I said, he won't break me, just make me ten times stronger of a woman then I already was. So Christopher, Thank you, thank you for all the crap you have put me through the past 7 1/2 half years. I'm sorry for all that I have put your through, I would apologize more, but you don't deserve it.
You don't deserve the goodness of our children every morning when you wake up. It wasn't you who tended to them when they were sick, it wasn't you who stayed up late nights, made ER trips, doctor appointments, it wasn't you who kissed boo boos, or made them dinner willingly. It was not you who bathed them because you wanted to, it was not you who started the bed time prayers routine. I sculpted them, I shaped them, why, because I am there mother, it was my duty but most of all its because they are my world. All you had time for was your video games. I hope they were all you wanted and more, because that is all you are going to have left when this is all said and done with. I hope they make you happy and keep you warm at night. Because it will never be me laying next to you in bed ever again. I will not wake you with breakfast in bed, I will not serve you dinner at the computer desk, maybe your mother will, but not I. I do not regret the past, I learn from it, and you have taught me much. Thank you.......
I cried myself to sleep last night. It was the first time in a while, realizing it does no good, only causing me a headache in the morning, but last night could not be helped. I have my babies pictures next to my bed and before the lights were turned off I stared into their sweet and innocent eyes. They were looking at me, staring into my soul, it was like I could almost hear their little voices calling me. Begging me to hold them, to snuggle with them. Asking me why I wasn't there with them, why it wasn't me tucking them into bed each night. Why it wasn't me saying prayers to all 3 of them at one time instead of individually at night over the phone. I should be singing songs to them while playing on the floor with them, building block towers or coloring. Snuggling on the couch with them watching a movie, fighting with them about clean up and bed time. I want to hear Austin say, "Mommy stop, you're embarrassing," while I am making up songs while cleaning. I want Lily tugging at my pant leg saying, "I Help." while doing dishes and laundry. I miss Lucas telling me his stories about school, about what level he beat of the Mario Kart, and his sweet kisses on my cheek out of nowhere, while throwing his arms around my neck telling me, "I love you so much mommy."
Not having them with me is like a piece of my soul is missing, like it was ripped out of me, with no chance of healing unless they are put back. A mothers love is different from a fathers love, not better, not more, just different. I carried those babies, I dreamed of their faces, of their smile, how they would look when they got older. How they would smell after their baths, their sweet innocent voices. They were mine from the moment I knew about them, I loved them before they were anything more then a little blooming bud with a tail. Each kick was the sweetest most treasured moment, knowing I could calm them down from inside me just but the sound of my voice. Singing sweet lullaby's to them, telling them about the world they were going to get to know, and how much they were loved. Worrying about if they were going to be healthy, crying when I found out about Lily's heart, all the while Chris not shedding a tear, never really grasping the reality of it. Those are my sweet loves, more to me then my life is. I live and breathe for them, I would fight the world to protect them, give my life itself for them. I want my babies back, not tomorrow, but right now. I want to fall asleep with them next to me, with their soft snores and sweaty heads laying next to me. I want them in my arms, I want to kiss their boo-boo's better again, I want to sit and sing nursery rhymes, and listen to them sing them back to me and listen to their silly mistakes with the words. I want to do what I am supposed to be doing, be their mommy. I can only imagine what it is going to be like they day they were returned my my arms, to my household. The day can't come soon enough. They may drive me absolutely crazy at times, may make me want to take a vacation, but such are the craziness of kids.....I would not trade any of it....not a thing...
