WAH is at my home putting D3 to bed. Usually I go out, but not feeling well and said I hoped it would be ok if I stayed here.
D3 pulled her usual clinginess to me, rejecting H (which was always a source of frustration. I tried not to swoop in to save her, and stayed mostly firm on "mommy has work to do, daddy is giving you a bath."
Anyway, I said I would read her one short book--she requested (coincidentally??) a homemade book that my MIL made for her. MIL has made her a book like this each year-- she has three now. (filled with pictures from the past year).
I was surprised that I didn't break down while reading the first one.
D asked WAH to read the other two. The newest one is called, "When D was 2 years old". H and I were already separated at the time. I'm in one uncaptioned picture, and don't show up in any of the text." Ahem.
I wondered, as I heard my WAH reading this book to our D, what was going through his head. Here's what I was thinking: "When D was 2 years old... her daddy moved out of her home." "When D was 2 years old, he changed her life forever.
I held it together (almost live-posted, but couldn't focus enough!), but feeling a bit sad at the moment. It hurt me a lot that, just 2 months after H left, my MIL basically cut me out of the family record by not including me in this book. I got past it (at least I thought I did), by trying to empathize-- it must have been tricky for her to decide what to do -- but those things are hard to forget.
I watched the movie "Gravity" last night- and I think sometimes it feels like that. I am floating around, sometimes spinning out of control, sometimes feeling a bit more in control, calmly moving in a particular direction, and then WHAM! something sends me spinning again.
