Please excuse the diary-type entry.
I hadn't seen the step-kids in over a week. With SR working all of these 80 hour shifts and me working week nights, I rarely get to see them for more than a few minutes at a time. I had really been looking forward to seeing them. Despite limited time together, we've been getting along better than ever last few months.
I had half an hour before I had to leave for work when they walked in. Step-daughter says with her sneaky smile "Are you going to work tonight?"
"Yes" I replied.
"Good, because I don't want you here."
Well, isn't that nice. I joked around with her for a while, told her she couldn't get her favorite gum if she didn't have me as a gum dealer. Things normalized and we were laughing again.
When I got back from work she was having trouble sleeping. She came down to talk to us. We talked about moving to Denmark. She said when she has trouble sleeping she imagines being in Denmark on the beach alone with her dad.
I honestly don't know where all of this is coming from. The usual readers of this blog know how crazy I am about the step-kids. I have loved them ever since I met them. They are charming and wonderful and I try to treat them as if they were my own children. But, of course, they're not. Well, sort of. Well, I guess I just don't know.
SR was later asking me about working yet another long ER weekend on our last free weekend before we move. Tears just started rolling down my face.
Well, we stayed up until 2am talking about all that has happened in our lives in just the last year and a half. And all the changes that are coming with our move. Even SR was moved to tears when talking about his son suddenly loving to run. There is a lot going on right now. With all that out, one thing led to another and, ah yes, young love ...
I woke up at 7:30 to do step-daughter's hair for her school pictures. She wanted braids, but her hair was too short. She said her mom would put braids in her hair. I offered pig tails. She accepted. But half way through she said I wasn't doing it right. I handed her the brush and pony tail holders and told her to do it herself. Not yelling. I just couldn't take it. SR took them to school.
I walked back into the bedroom and somehow fell right asleep despite the babbling Lorax and my guilty conscience.