A Thin Line

A Study has shown that there are parts of the bran that are activated when feeling hate, or love. Often I sit and I think "How can I both love and hate Sunday?" Of course it is not at the same time. One week I love it. One week I hate it. Two Sundays out of the month I sit on my couch enjoying the sweet silence lingering in the air, content with the bed time stories and prayers that have become part of the nightly ritual. Then, alternatively, two Sundays out of the month I sit bitterly annoyed with the silence surrounding me.

This is my Sunday of quiet regrets. Tonight is a familiar night, I am feeling the need to be hugged, kissed, snuggled, and asked for more juice. As much as I try to distract myself, it still finds me. Especially in that moment when I lay my head down, lights are off, tv is glowing the in back ground, and I find my self looking down towards their room. That heaviness in my heart, the revolving flash backs of memories of days that feel so very long ago. And then the worrying, the pondering, the second guessing, all of it a self designed way to beat myself up.

The Sundays that signify the ending of my week always go so, with the lack of a better word, shitty. All the plans seem to fall through, there is tension in the air, boundaries are tested, buttons are pressed. I probably make a mountain out of a mole hill when it comes to all of this, but its like all I can see is me sitting on this couch, up all all hours of the night, missing them. And I will, and I do, and here I am.

I have not always made the right choices, nor have I always done everything perfectly. I will never claim that I have. I wonder if I should have toughed it out. Done something on my own to change things, or even just to have changed myself, if it meant never knowing a day with out them. There is nothing that I wouldn't do for them, however changing the past is not possible. Trying to move forward, hold my head up, take in as many hugs and snuggles I can get, staying up late to eat pop corn and watch animated movies, playing tea party, crashing cars, hiding and seeking... baby steps.

One day I want to give my children the world, more often than not we as parents simple just send our kids out into the world for them to conquer it themselves. While I am trying to gather the world up into a nicely wrapped box with a bow, I hold tight to the truths that stand strong in our lives. The fact that they are loved, that I do miss them, and that they are missed when they are with me. I know that I am not alone in my feelings, every other week some one else is standing in my shoes. I thank God for the ability to want the best for them, and to be able to offer them all I have, and that they do have two parents who love them endlessly as well as unconditionally, even when we could not love ourselves.

Until next Sunday, I will be right here waiting. I love and miss you my sweet darlings.