I Can't Live Without You
Seperation anxiety in stereo... the twins SEE me, they start screaming... I leave, they start screaming... If they forget I'm in the same room, they play happily together - or apart. As soon as I become a "person" (or I guess, "that chick that feeds us") - all hell breaks loose. The wringing of hands and gnashing of non-teeth (gums, I suppose) begins.
DH says, "oh, that's why I leave them downstairs... they're safe; they're happy." Then he goes back to doing whatever it was he's doing. Like cleaning the kayak... in the GARAGE. I had no idea that leaving the twins with him while ds#1 & I go to church, in effect, is like leaving them ALONE. Which, I shouldn't judge - it works for him, it works for me. Daddys just do it differently, right? I have a horrible feeling these guys are going to turn out to be like those feral children* they splash on TV.
The hideous truth is I actually had a friend who was a junkie. He and his junkie wife, Liberty, were such crappy junkie parents that their 5 year old didn't know how to WALK. They plopped him down (or left him there from the day before - who knows) in front of the TV day after day while they went to score, and he didn't learn how to walk until the state took him away from them.
Frank didn't die from Chinese White. I mean, there are no old junkies. I don't know what happened to Liberty. I never met her, but I know a lot about her. I met Frank when he was 30 years clean and sober - he died a couple of years ago from throat cancer. It was a nightmare to watch, and he stopped going to AA meeting because the tube in his throat made him more susceptible to illness from all the people in the meetings... so he just went to cancer support group meetings. I kind of resented him for doing that. He was so horribly sick anyway. People would have respected his space if he'd been at the meetings (no touching and a good sized personal space bubble around him) but he would have been able to share that he was dying. He was a dying horror show, really, and he didn't drink or use over it. THAT would have been really powerful.
*"feral children" spelling count for 2005, 4
DH says, "oh, that's why I leave them downstairs... they're safe; they're happy." Then he goes back to doing whatever it was he's doing. Like cleaning the kayak... in the GARAGE. I had no idea that leaving the twins with him while ds#1 & I go to church, in effect, is like leaving them ALONE. Which, I shouldn't judge - it works for him, it works for me. Daddys just do it differently, right? I have a horrible feeling these guys are going to turn out to be like those feral children* they splash on TV.
The hideous truth is I actually had a friend who was a junkie. He and his junkie wife, Liberty, were such crappy junkie parents that their 5 year old didn't know how to WALK. They plopped him down (or left him there from the day before - who knows) in front of the TV day after day while they went to score, and he didn't learn how to walk until the state took him away from them.
Frank didn't die from Chinese White. I mean, there are no old junkies. I don't know what happened to Liberty. I never met her, but I know a lot about her. I met Frank when he was 30 years clean and sober - he died a couple of years ago from throat cancer. It was a nightmare to watch, and he stopped going to AA meeting because the tube in his throat made him more susceptible to illness from all the people in the meetings... so he just went to cancer support group meetings. I kind of resented him for doing that. He was so horribly sick anyway. People would have respected his space if he'd been at the meetings (no touching and a good sized personal space bubble around him) but he would have been able to share that he was dying. He was a dying horror show, really, and he didn't drink or use over it. THAT would have been really powerful.
*"feral children" spelling count for 2005, 4
posted by momazon at
8:28 AM
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