Once I had explained our reasons for naming our friends legal guardian and reassured her that she would be part of Sam’s life, no matter what, things were easier. The honesty felt good.
But now we have come to what I call the sweet spot. The kids are between, say, 3 and 6. They believe in Santa and his magic. And they are suckers for all of the advertising on TV. They may be a little shy but parents or elves usually can coax them to at least stand next to Santa as they mumble to him about the Lego set or doll or robot they want him to bring.
He had to be wheeled into my hospital room to hold Sam. We all hoped that he would be around long enough to see as many of Sam’s firsts as possible. Sadly, though, he died of cancer in 2013. My son was 14 months old. As anyone who has watched someone they love die of a terminal illness, their death still manages to come as a harsh and painful surprise. You can only prepare yourself for their death so much.
Please pardon me if I have a mixed response to the approaching holiday season. Yes, I know I need better boundaries with both families but that is easier said than done. But even with the power struggles, watching my son experience the holidays is still a magical time. Perhaps it's worth the extra wine I need to drink to get through it.
In an effort to put myself out there, I am joining everything you can think of. I just signed for a knitting class and joined the PTO for my son’s school. Maybe that is my version of a mid-life crisis.
He is only going half days for kindergarten. I tell everyone that it is because I don’t think he can handle full days yet. And that is true. The other reason is because I am not ready for him to do full days yet. He is my first and my only and I am clinging.
Date night is not my favorite term. In fact, it is a term that grates on my nerves a bit. Some people don’t like “moist” or “panties”. I will take either over “date night”. Nonetheless, my husband and I decided some form of “us time” was required so we could remember how to have a conversation without the 101 interruptions of our sweet but chatty 5 year old.