This was the first weekend with D out of the house, at least physically. I got home after stopping at the grocery to stock up for the weekend, b/c there was no way in hell I need the added stress of taking 3 toddlers grocery shopping! He was definately ready to go once I got there. Not rush out the door as soon as he saw my car, but close to it. I, however, lost it before he could leave. I was carrying in the groceries, trying desperately to avoid catching tiny little toes in the screen door. I was paying so much attention to the toes, that I didn't see C's sweet little fingers getting stuck. It was HORRIBLE. He was in shock. When we got his fingers free, there was an indention across his knuckles. I was just sick to my stomach. We gave him some ibuprofen and I held him while he cried. I started crying. Sobbing. Clearly, I was sobbing for more than the sweet little fingers I almost BROKE, but I needed it. D just sort of sat there looking at me. He kept looking at his fingers, giving me updates (the color's coming back, the line is gone, he can move them, etc). There was no real emotion in his voice, at least not for me. That wasn't lost on me.
He left. I got myself together, and went to the kitchen to get dinner for babies. Somehow, i have NO idea how, S and I started talking about her nana. Dear GOD someone was just AGAINST me in that short period of time. I honestly can't remember how it started, but I think she asked me "who is daddy's mommy." I looked at her. I took a breath. I said "daddy's mommy was Nana. She loved you very much. Do you remember her?" "Yes. Where is she?Is she at her house?" Oh, dear GOD do not want to have this convo. "No, baby, I don't think she's at her house." "She lives far away, doesn't she?" There was my out, lol. "Um, yes, she DOES live far away. And we can't see her anymore." And that was it. Phew. I really don't mind talking about my mother in law, I NEED to talk about her, but I just haven't been able to, at least in D's presence. And, now I am not in a good emotional place to discuss death with a 3 year old. Once all this is sorted out, I hope to find a picture or two (there aren't many) to add to our bookshelf.
One of the first things S did when she woke up on Saturday was to ask when daddy was coming. I had no idea if he *was* coming, although I assumed he would. I called about 11 and asked him if he was coming over. He said "am I supposed to come over?" I said "not if you don't want to, but S is asking. I don't know what to tell her." He got there about 4:30 and stayed for about 2 hours, interacting a bit with the babies, but mostly working on his laptop. He came back Sunday also, from about 12-3. The babies fell asleep at 1, and were still asleep when he left. I took advantage of him being there and took my own little nap. Sophie sat with him at the table and colored. It makes me sad that this is all the interaction he is giving, but maybe it's all he CAN give. I don't know. It has to be hard on him.
Sophie asked both of us where he is sleeping. He's still in a hotel. She has no clue what that is. We've told her he has a bed and a couch and a TV and a bathroom. We've never called it a house or home. But it's so interesting to me how her little brain is working to process things. When the babies woke from their naps yesterday she said "Babies, daddy went back to his house." i didn't correct her. I was more astonished than anything, at her ability to process this. She tends to get whiny at night. Interestingly, Saturday night she fell off a dining room chair, pure exhaustion. Had D been home, she would have been clinging to me for dear life. This time, she was clinging to me, but calling for D. "I want daddy." Broke my heart. I just kept telling her that I would always take care of her. She's such a little trooper.
I once again got out of having to tell my parents. I called my mom Sunday night, prepared to have the convo, but she informed me that she and my dad had been extremely sick the past 2 days. That turned into a convo about them not being able to help us this week. They typically help with babies one day a week. As long as they don't visit, they don't know what's happening, so I don't have to tell them. My mother in law always said "you can't un-ring a bell." That is SO true, but especially in this case. Once I tell my parents, there is no going back. it's a done deal. Yes, I know it should be a done deal regardless, but I am still secretly hoping that he gets out of this fog and comes to his senses.
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