First love, last rights.

What an interesting night full of conversation and mommy time I had last night.

The kids got dropped off at the shop after school, an hour after, which was pretty disgruntling with no phone call to forewarn me of. I let it go. Aidan bounces off into the shop with some pretty big pupils, which means he's had sugar (mommy no-no previously expressed post visit) and so I knew what was in store for him for the evening, hello mood swings and irritable attitudes. He did however, seem as though he had some pretty exciting news to share. *Cue the drumroll* Only kidding, I can't spill yet, apparently not everyone knows, so since that's not my cup of tea, I'm going to zip lock on it. Charlea-Jo seemed not affected or excited though, which, made for a pretty rough night with her as well.

Rollback to the whole my kids are my world blog, probably want to read that now, I'll pause and wait for you...

Ready? Let's begin.

On the nights that the kids come home, I always run pretty much the same routine.

Leave work,visit my parents.This gives time for chit chat and catching up. Everyone misses them and it pretty much blows boogers when they're not around, lots of them.

Head home, I'll catch a shower while Aidan plays with his friends out back and Charlea-Jo immediately begins her school work for the evening. As soon as I get out, she gets in. While Aidan is still playing, us girls indulge in some mommy/daughter time with hair masks and clay facials. This time, something was up with her and she did everything she could to make it apparent so that I would ask. Her response shocked me. I'm new to the whole "step" parent concept, and what followed had me at a complete thought to speech freeze.

"What's up, Chuck?"

"Mom, you'll always be my mom right?"

"Yes ma'am. Always and forever."

"Mom, even if it's always just us for always and forever, I'm only going to have to call you mom right?"

"Charlea-Jo, quit fidgeting, look at me and tell me what's going on, I'm not sure that I can understand where you're going with this if you don't."

"It's just not fair mom."

For the first time in months on end, my daughter actually shed real tears. I knew right then and there this was going to be a hard conversation to have. Part of my soul literally split in half. All of these thoughts about having tried so  hard to protect them and shelter them from the things that would eventually let them know that I couldn't heal every wound, that I wasn't actually the superhero they thought I was, every single drop of that was staring me in the face and I had nothing but crickets and the wind blowing left in my brain at that very moment. I just did not like what was about to happen and it was speeding on like a nuclear arms race right toward my heart and hers.

"Life  isn't fair baby."
*damnit, no. you didn't just say that, great job, now those tears have turned into a hysterical crying massacre, way to go Amy, way to go.*

"Wait Jo, breathe, tell me why you needed to hear me say that."

"Mom, no one asked me if I liked her. Not like you do, not like meme does, no one wanted to know, and I don't want to tell anyone how I really feel because it's not nice and you said that if I couldn't be nice to just walk away and I don't have room to walk away this time. I don't want..."

More hysterical inaudible words escaped her lips before she could manage to spit out the word step-mother, I knew that no matter how hard I tried to empathize, I would never ever get on her level, there was no one to call, no words to speak that dared come out of my mouth. I'll forever be haunted by the way that moment made me feel. I'll remember the scenery. I'll look at her, when her life gets complicated and remember this feeling. Knowing that this will never be the last time I have to explain something to her, that society has allowed me to perceive as "not such a big deal" and sit there staring into her blankness and hurt trying to just say anything, anything to her at all that will heal just one more hyperventilated tear from rolling down those cheeks.

"Come sit in my lap Charlea-Jo. There's something you need to know. Dad is happy. You're happy. Aidan is happy. Mommy will always, without a doubt in anyone's mind be YOUR mommy. You're not obligated to look immediately at anyone else in that same way. You are obligated to be polite and respectful, and out of that and time, there will be a bond formed between you two. It will never, as much as everyone would like it to, be like the bond you and I have, and it will never, as much as anyone would like it to, be like the bond that Aidan and I have. All that matters is that you love the people around you, and at the very worst of times, maintain your respect. That's it. I'm always going to be right here, and I will never leave your side no matter who comes into our lives or your dad's life. I'm always, always, always, going to be RIGHT here. Period."

"Promise mom?  You gotta promise."

"I promise."

For the rest of the night and the entire morning, she stayed within eye contact of me. I feel like even though I said all that I could, I still didn't say enough to appease her. What doesn't make sense though, is that to me, it's really not such a big deal, but to my daughter, the world has completely crashed around her sense of normalcy over the last few months, and as I've sat back and watched her lash out, it all came together very clearly.

After Aidan came inside for the evening and got his shower, he crawled up on the bed to finish up his homework while I finished up working on my Diogenes Project term paper and out of the clear blue sky he begins talking quietly.

"Charlea-Jo is asleep."

"I know bud, she had a long day."

"Why did she?"

"She's a girl, she thinks too much."

"Girls think too much?"

"Sometimes we do. Don't boys think a lot to?"

"Not really. We think about things as they're happening I think."

"Well. Us girls worry a lot. What's the name of that book?"

"Some book about Madagascar."

"Neat."

"Hey mom."

"Hey Aidan."

"Stop it, be serious. Do you think that one day we'll have a step dad here?"

"One day, maybe."

"Mom. You're picky."

"I am not."

"You are picky momma. I like it though, I think it's neat."

"What do you mean?"

"It's neat that you ask us how we feel about people, you let us be picky too. I wish other people did that more. You like the way we think because we all think a lot alike and that's why we make such a good team, me you and Charlea-Jo, we're ninjas. So awesome. You must care a lot about us."

"You could say that."

"You could say Charlea-Jo and I care a lot about you too mom."

"I love you too, son."

"I'm done reading now, can we cut the lights off and go to sleep?"

"Absolutely."

Same scenario just not out of his physical reach again until he left for school this morning. I knew better. He's my emotional wreck, he's capable of shutting down way faster than I ever even thought about attempting... I can't see how those two children could be so similar, yet so different all at once, it's almost like my son is me mentally and my daughter is her father mentally. It's disturbing when you think about it, more for me than anything, her teenage years are going to be a nightmare. I wish that I knew how to emotionally prepare for that right now, because it's probably going to take that long for the medication to set up heavily enough in my bloodstream to tolerate it without purchasing a punching bag for Aidan and myself to get us through such a time.

Me? Oh same as always. I stayed up all night staring at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come, contemplating life, wondering how long it would take to remove that crying fit from my memory. I've never seen my kids that worked up before, I'm sure deep down they're excited about the news they were given, but at the same time, I'm going to need all the support we can give them in the change overs. Please remember, they're adjusting in much the same way that everyone else is, it's all new and different for them, even still the back and forth between houses is new to them, the new girlfriend, still new. Change is something that comes and goes from day one in all of our lives, as adults, we've all had more experience with it, we all handle it better. Much better.