Friday, August 11, 2006
They say Its gonna be final once we sign that dotted line
Emily's eyelashes keep me sane. Stupid no? But this week has been horrid. I am pretty sure I failed my Calc course. Oh yeah, I said failed. Like a loser. There is just no excuse for that kind of performance. Ugh. I'll know for sure next week. And just 7 short hours after my final came the paper. THE papers. He left them at Emily's daycare. That ominous manila envelope sticking out of the top of her innocent winnie-the-pooh diaper bag. Suddenly, I was back in that place. All these months of fighting it and I was right back to feeling like this whole ordeal was my fault. I failed. Just me. I couldn't even get through the third page that first night. It was definitely a Vodka night. Last night was better because my folks came to dinner and to help me decipher the 39 pages of ambiguous legal terminology. In the end, I'm not happy with the setup and am going to request that some of the paperwork be redone. I'm never going to finish with this mess. I hate the business of marriageI hate that marriage has "business." It should be more than that even after it is over... My folks left just after Emily went to bed. I swear Emily can feel when I get wound up. She just would not go to sleep. My policy is usually to let her cry it out because she has to learn to comfort herself, but that just wasn't working for either of us. After a few minutes of fit throwing I settled down on her bedroom floor and let her curl up in my lap. Almost instantly she cosed her eyes and we rocked back and forth. She has the most beautiful eyelashes. They are her father's. Long and thick and black. There they were just fluttering against her little peaches and cream cheek with tiny tears still clinging to them. After a few minutes I regained my will to go on. I held her a bit longer and then settled her into bed. I spent an hour or so working on a picture board for my room and then settled down. After all the horribleness that is failure I still have Emily. She doesn't care that I screwed up (yet). I made a tiny beautiful little girl with perfect eyelashes. I did that one thing right. I can keep doing right by her. I can.
Posted by Never A Plain Jane at 3:11 PM