Shea just called Trevor on Facetime.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Picnic
I met Trevor for lunch today. I made us sandwiches and packed us some pickles and cheese and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and Wheat Thins. Then I picked him up and we went to a park near his school and spread out a sheet to eat on. It was on a table, but I still spread the sheet out. I'm very traditional. I had felt a teensy bit of trepidation on my way to get him.....it feels like we only talk about hard things lately. Not because we want to, but because getting out of this muddled mess is all either one of us can think of. I miss lightheartedness. I miss happiness. Perhaps this has been some huge test to see if we can hang. Well, we can. One thing is for sure- our love for each other has grown. Loving Trevor is completely easy, and so is standing by him while he deals with what he has to face in the near future.
So anyway, now I'm all into inspirational quotes and trying to find the peace within and all of that other stuff I never needed to access until now. I guess life has been pretty easy so far, huh? Now, as Trevor says- we build on rock. No more building on sand. This is the real deal.
Now I'm thinking about the hard, unfair near future.... Blah.
While we ate, Trevor told me about his time at DeAnza, where he was taking music classes and physics classes and learning things he loved to learn. I realized again, like I always know in the back of my mind, that I need to get back into classes and move forward with life. The past 6 weeks have felt like a standstill. I am so ready to focus on making my life better- on moving forward and protecting whatever Trevor and I build together. Did I mention I have become a bit fierce in my desire to double check EVERYTHING to make sure we don't get screwed over again, ever?
As we were talking, I asked Trevor what was going on in his life while he was in school. As he explained, it kind of dawned on me that when Trevor was taking music classes at DeAnza 10 years ago, I was taking music classes at West Valley. I didn't attend DeAnza because of traffic on 85 in the mornings. I was into the quarter system, but West Valley was closer. I sort of wish I had met him then and had him for a friend for a whole 10 years.
I know I told you guys that things have been rough in our house. Well, we don't get to see Shea as much as we used to anymore. We get her on Wednesdays and every other weekend. She used to be here every other day. I know. Tears. Sadness. Aching chest. That is our life around here. Ugh. My heart breaks. It breaks for me, but more for Trevor and Shea.
The hardest part is that now that Shea is not here as often, I feel like I am intruding on time that Trevor and Shea should be spending together. As if my presence somehow makes their time together less special. Neither one of them has given me a reason to feel that way, I just can't help it. I want them to be happy so badly, and I can see that they aren't. It isn't because of me- it is because of the new schedule, but I still feel like I should leave them alone. So, I try to back off. I try to leave to go to the grocery store, or have them go grab dinner together and just bring something back for me. You know, because, "Oh, I have to get this and that done anyhow- you two go ahead!" It doesn't always work- Shea is usually quick with a suggestion of how we could all just do things together if I did X and Y later, and she helps when we get home, and Daddy can do this and that while we do X and Y. So, we do things together and I'm happy about it. I just like to give them (Trevor) the option of time alone with Shea.
Really, I would love for it to be how it was 6 weeks ago. I wish everyone could be happy with that situation, but that isn't the case, so the lives of everyone got changed.
Also, I've heard, "You're not my MOM," a few times in these past 6 weeks. No doy, kiddo. That's what I say. "No doy! I don't have any kids. That's why I boss you and Bella and your dad and the cat and the dog around!" Just joking. But I do say, "Of course I'm not your mom. I'm your friend. Your friend who is way bigger than you, and can put pepper in your sandwiches." Nah. I don't say that either. I just worry that brushing it off isn't the right thing. I mean, I acknowledge it in a silly way. Something like, "I know you are not my child. All of MY children have platypus faces." Or "No kidding! I'm too old to be a mother! I'm 97 years old!" Or, "You're not MY mom!" She laughs and I don't make a big deal of it. She always pulls that card when she is testing my grit, ya know? Like, how far is this woman going to go with this eating my carrots biz? The answer is: Not far. I can refuse anything that involves me having to perform a task. I don't cut crusts off (never have- the poor children I nanny learn that early on). I don't tie shoes unless we're in a super hurry. But I won't force her to do anything.
I love Shea. I love Trevor. I want to be happy again. I feel like if life continues this way, I never will be. Even if it somehow starts to sting less- if the memory of how good it was when Shea was happy all the time starts to fade, and this new situation is all we have ever known- There will still be a part of me that will be sad. I have considered therapy. Trevor has looked into grief counseling. Things are bad. I wish every day that this will get better. That I will be able to fall asleep without thinking about how sad it is that Shea has been pulled out of her home, that Trevor won't have to go to work knowing that he won't see his daughter for a week. I wanted to cry while I made her lunch today. I wanted to cry when she hugged me hard because we won't see her for 7 days. Shea, of course, doesn't know that I feel that way. To her I said, "Aw! We don't have to be bummed! I'll see you SO soon!" But my heart felt as sad as her lower lip looked.
I wish there was something I could do. What can I do? I am seriously seeking advice here. How will I know that I will feel better? How much energy will I have given to being angry and sad by the time this is settled? And when it IS "settled," the chances are high that it still won't be as good as it was before. How will I cope with that?
I am sad. I am desperate to stay the person I was before this. I am determined to keep from growing bitter. I will work to keep my integrity intact- to never lie to get what I want, to never steal from anyone. The only thing that keeps me moving forward is the memory of the person I was before I knew I could be this angry.
The hardest part is that now that Shea is not here as often, I feel like I am intruding on time that Trevor and Shea should be spending together. As if my presence somehow makes their time together less special. Neither one of them has given me a reason to feel that way, I just can't help it. I want them to be happy so badly, and I can see that they aren't. It isn't because of me- it is because of the new schedule, but I still feel like I should leave them alone. So, I try to back off. I try to leave to go to the grocery store, or have them go grab dinner together and just bring something back for me. You know, because, "Oh, I have to get this and that done anyhow- you two go ahead!" It doesn't always work- Shea is usually quick with a suggestion of how we could all just do things together if I did X and Y later, and she helps when we get home, and Daddy can do this and that while we do X and Y. So, we do things together and I'm happy about it. I just like to give them (Trevor) the option of time alone with Shea.
Really, I would love for it to be how it was 6 weeks ago. I wish everyone could be happy with that situation, but that isn't the case, so the lives of everyone got changed.
Also, I've heard, "You're not my MOM," a few times in these past 6 weeks. No doy, kiddo. That's what I say. "No doy! I don't have any kids. That's why I boss you and Bella and your dad and the cat and the dog around!" Just joking. But I do say, "Of course I'm not your mom. I'm your friend. Your friend who is way bigger than you, and can put pepper in your sandwiches." Nah. I don't say that either. I just worry that brushing it off isn't the right thing. I mean, I acknowledge it in a silly way. Something like, "I know you are not my child. All of MY children have platypus faces." Or "No kidding! I'm too old to be a mother! I'm 97 years old!" Or, "You're not MY mom!" She laughs and I don't make a big deal of it. She always pulls that card when she is testing my grit, ya know? Like, how far is this woman going to go with this eating my carrots biz? The answer is: Not far. I can refuse anything that involves me having to perform a task. I don't cut crusts off (never have- the poor children I nanny learn that early on). I don't tie shoes unless we're in a super hurry. But I won't force her to do anything.
I love Shea. I love Trevor. I want to be happy again. I feel like if life continues this way, I never will be. Even if it somehow starts to sting less- if the memory of how good it was when Shea was happy all the time starts to fade, and this new situation is all we have ever known- There will still be a part of me that will be sad. I have considered therapy. Trevor has looked into grief counseling. Things are bad. I wish every day that this will get better. That I will be able to fall asleep without thinking about how sad it is that Shea has been pulled out of her home, that Trevor won't have to go to work knowing that he won't see his daughter for a week. I wanted to cry while I made her lunch today. I wanted to cry when she hugged me hard because we won't see her for 7 days. Shea, of course, doesn't know that I feel that way. To her I said, "Aw! We don't have to be bummed! I'll see you SO soon!" But my heart felt as sad as her lower lip looked.
I wish there was something I could do. What can I do? I am seriously seeking advice here. How will I know that I will feel better? How much energy will I have given to being angry and sad by the time this is settled? And when it IS "settled," the chances are high that it still won't be as good as it was before. How will I cope with that?
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