Lion and Magic Boy

We’ve been waiting all day, the children and I. It’s often like this. I’ve mentioned before the erratic shared custody schedule, and there’s not much I can do about that. The court views The Ex’s job in all its erratically-scheduled glory as much more important tha anything I could hope to do, and as an extension more important than the children’s well-being.

Bitter I am not.

But still, there’s the waiting. All day, indeed all weekend, we have known that they would be going wth The Ex tonight at 6:15 (so he doesn’t have to give them dinner, even though when they are with him he doesn’t serve dinner until about 9 pm from what I am told), so all day there is that foreboding, that foreknowledge, that they’d be packing up some stuff and heading over there to tonight for a couple of days. Now, no one here views it as a bad thing, simply a thing that will take place, but it does put this weird spin on the day. Joint custody is hard on kids. I have read studies and whatnot that supports this, but short of every set of parents remaining married despite their difficulties and pain, I haven’t a solution. And that isn’t any kind of solution, and itself presents its own set of problems. But at the same time, kids should have a relationship with both parents. In an ideal world, this would be an amicable thing with always an eye toward the best interests of the children.

[sigh]

30 more minutes.

Serena has abandoned the sore throat that has kept her sidelined all day on the couch, and Nathaniel has abandoned his depressed surliness that kept him sidelined all day with pre-teen angst, and they are playing together in these last few minutes, the first time all day. Both have abandoned the Yoda-speak that has dominated their conversation throughout the past week. And Eric sits, beside me, abandoned as usual by his brother and sister, sidelined as a result, but using his time to finish his last few bites of dinner.

2500 words to NaNo tonight to keep on schedule. Bah. I just want to watch a movie over a glass of red wine and have a hot bath. However, I pulled 50,000 words out of my ass last year and I can do it again.

Not sure that came out right.