Lunch and Mincemeat

My mom eats with Chandler 3 days a week, this was initiated to make sure he ate… because he would not. Now it is more a time of 1st grade conversations. Today she came home to inform me that something interesting had been discussed. Dads.

The discussion began over the annoyance of a certain boy that “always” gets into trouble, bugs Chandler and everyone else and seems to be the topic of gripping. We will call him Seth*. His mom is a single parent (as am I) older and seems to have her hands full with this one. The kids at the lunch table were mentioning to all there that they had just kinda had it with his behavior and sick of being part of his troublemaking. Then it was said by Cliff* that “it is because Seth has not dad.”

Hmmm… and Hmmmmer…

They all agreed this was the case and reasoning behind Seth’s antics.


Cliff: “Well, Chandler doesnt have a dad”

Chandler: “Well, all weekend my mom had some guy over and he was nice and he played with me and my brother the whole time and he was kinda like a dad, and they are going to get married.”


Nan (my mom): “Chandler that was your daddy, you do have a dad. You know him, he plays all the time. But he and your mom are not going to get married im sorry sweetheart.”

Chandler: “oh, thery’re not?”

Nan: “No honey.”

What do I do with this. My heart feels like mincemeat – and not the good pie kind. The 3 day old school cafeteria kind.


A Dirty Home

This week I have had the opportunity to keep the house spotless. Bathrooms, kitchen, even new sheets and the vacuum has been run (I love vacuum tracks). But there has been an inner lurking of another kind. I made a decision to allow the boys daddy to come over, we had a very nice time; the boys enjoyed time with him after our dinner together at Braums and we enjoyed the company of him in our house for the first time. I had been reluctant to allow him over for fear that the situation would go to far or a can of worms would be opened. Anyway, I had felt that the house had a pure and innocent feel to it. A unused and clean feeling. Like a virgin house. That feeling has passed and now I am left feeling that even though everyone seemed to have a great time and had a better experience then when he would come to my mothers to see the boys, I am still feeling that uneasy feeling. Did I make a mistake or am I just being weird? I am unsure. Maybe the true feeling is that I still do not trust myself around him. That I could slip into old habits of playing house without the true home being bought. I want the boys to be able to see their father and he has been reluctant to come to my mothers. I feel stuck and icky at the same time. I hate this situation. To all those young girls that may stumble upon this, know that playing house is fun for a while until the bank re posses their playhouse and reminds you that you where never tenants in the first place, remember that playing house  will never be a home. Marriage will come, wait for it!

Prayers are needed, although I am not sure what for; prayers are needed!