Christmas

Ehh it’s the 25th. I should write a long winded beautiful blog about Christmas. But I just dread the holidays now. I guess it’s the curse of the single mom. I know most people fight with the ex about splitting time on holidays but I don’t. Whatever is convenient for him is what we do. He thinks he’s being fair and probably isn’t counting. For the most part, it’s fine, except on very long days alone, when it isn’t fine at all.

Like today.

They are older and coordinating schedules should be considered an Olympic event. I’m of the horrible variety of human that can’t hide emotion. So this becomes a time of “Please don’t forget to ask off so you can see your father. Please put your clothes in the dryer if you’re taking those to your Dad’s. Don’t forget your dad’s girlfriend’s gift. No, no, I’ll find something to do. It’s fine.”

All of the major holidays are spent at his house and I get whatever time is left over. I have to share that time with family obligations.

But I get them every day, you say? Yes. That’s true. Believe me I’d give a few of those “every day”s to him in trade for a holiday spent with the girls. I’d give him the phone calls and texts when they hate each other and need to vent. I’d give the day Elder got her car stuck in a ditch, the day her car wouldn’t start, the day Middle called me for advice I knew she wouldn’t take, the day I had to yell and Youngest cried because I yelled.

He gets best behavior kids. He gets to see their faces when they eat turkey for Thanksgiving. He gets holiday kids. Oh yes poor pitiful me. At least I have kids, let them go see Dad. Wow this is really selfish.

Yep. It is. Really selfish.

But I spent the morning texting my ex boyfriend and crying, the afternoon with my very drunk father, and the evening looking up crafts I’ll never make on Pinterest and crying.

Next year everyone will have jobs and school and boyfriends. I’ll spend the days leading up to Christmas reminding them to coordinate schedules and telling them not to forget the girlfriend’s gift. I’ll get the Christmas morning phone call where I hear everyone in the background laughing and having a great time. Fuck.

I’m angry and I want to say next year is mine, robbing my ex of his newfound Christmas traditions. But I won’t. I really hate being a single mom, though.

Yes. This blog is angsty and angry and depressed. And selfish. I should just get over it. They are older, things change. Roll with it. Be happy they get to see their Dad. Yes. I should. I should get over it.

But this is my blog and I don’t have to. You want a beautiful cookie cutter Christmas blog? Go look somewhere else.

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