For the third son in a row, Dave did the usual "cut off their curls with a carving knife/have you ever seen such a big boy in your life?"
I can't upload photos right now ... but my GOD. Bye bye, baby Rocco.
I'm at my MILs house. We are totally BFFs forever. Which means I am allowed to hang shit on her partner. Who smells like wee, is the boss of the remote, and annoys the shit out of everyone. But he loves Rocco and Rocco loves him, so I let it all slide. My boys will never know either of their real grandfathers. Once I told Dave that my grandfather used to take me and my sisters out all the time for chocolate paddle pops. He then told me that his grandfather used to take him and his brothers out for chocolate paddle pops. Amazing.
Dave really hurt my feelings, pretty much all weekend. Sometimes I'm so soft I can't stand myself. So .... female. We sat on the grass today watching Rocco and Max on the jumping castle and I was crying underneath my big sunnies, telling Dave that I'm sick of always telling him to be present. That I get so lonely sometimes and he's right next to me but so far away. That his harsh words hurt. That he shouldn't have seen The Blind Side without me because I was saving it to watch with him. And why doesn't he put more effort into our relationship? I cringed when I said the word "relationship" ..... like a stupid, needy female. In a world of men.
I'm blessed to be living in a world of men. Like, my present family of male energy is making up for all the male energy that was lacking in my early years.
Later I saw Dave play with Rocco in the water. For so long. Dave kept looking up at me to see if I was watching. I was. I always am, I always soften when I see him playing properly with the boys and he knows it. I cried more underneath my big sunnies. Maybe I just needed a big cry. Poor Dave.
My MIL gave me a kiss. She has never, EVER initiated a kiss. I was so touched. She is not big on demonstrating her affection. I think she has been stifled her whole life, not knowing who she really is inside. I tell her that my favourite photo of her is when she was in Prague in the late seventies and she had on a big fur coat and oversized sunglasses. She looked so damn cool.
Daves mother had four children - one daughter and three sons. Her daughter was her firstborn, she died at 12 weeks of age.
The first I knew of it was when I had a C-section with Max, eight years ago. She showed me her C-section scar, I said, "Ohhhhh, which boy did you have that with?" She stood and stared at me, perplexed.
"Look, it was a terrible business and I don't want to talk about it!"
I learned later that her daughter's name was Elizabeth. I cannot imagine the pain she has carried around in her heart, for all these years.
I saw both of Dave's daughters yesterday, for the first time in two years. The hardest thing about being a step-parent is that you have entered a family that is broken. It's tricky. I think they are always expecting me to try and slip them a poison apple ..... but I would never do that. I would much rather be Ashton Kutcher.
I'm in a sugar haze. It's dreadful. Thank goodness Easter is over. I never want to see another creme egg for as long as I live. Or at least a year. Dave has taken Max and Tim to see Clash of the Titans, I am trying SO HARD to not eat his Lindt bunny.
I just don't think I can do it.
Sometimes, giving in feels SO GOOD.
Heeeeeeere, bunny bunny. Eden wants to show you something ....