How windy was it?
It was so windy, I swear I saw birds flying backwards. Yes, I know it was just the wind and birds don't fly backwards whether one is drunk or sober. I am sober. Damn wind. Hmm, that was my previous post too. Well Toto, that's what one gets.
Tonight was apparently the night. The one I have pondered for many years now. My OlderOne asked Hubby about biological parents and were we his. I was on my way home from Candleland when Hubby called me to tell me of this pending conversation. Out of nowhere? I guess on Smallville, Clark Kent (aka Superman) was chatting about this. Yeah, such inspiration really necessary? Anyway. OlderOne I am sure in his faint recollection knew the answer to said question, but I toughed it out. Yes, I am your mother, No Hubby is not your real dad. No, I was never married to your real dad. Your donor (no, I didn't say that) chooses not to be a part of your life. That is his problem, not yours, You did nothing to cause this...on and on. I had a horrible ache in my chest. I wanted to lie and say he was dead. I didn't, nor did I say anything about how I despise, loathe and dread the day he will try to walk back into our lives. The Mom in me said that someday (hopefully a long, long time from now) you may want to meet him and I will do my best to help that happen. We also chatted about the difference in last names. OlderOne has my maiden names for all intent and purposes. Technically he is hyphenated with his donors last name, but how much was I supposed to go into on one tiny (GIANT) question? I explained to him, that also at some point if he wants to change his last name to Hubby's (ours) then there is alot involved and the his "real" dad would have to give us permission to do so and that would be a huge decision for everyone, not just his 10 year old self. I skipped over the dirt bags story, the hefer stepmom, the half sister and all the ghettoness that haunts my soul. Was I wrong? Should I have laid it all out there? In all the played in my head scenarios, blindsided on the drive home was not one of them. He never asked his name or if I had a picture, so, maybe that was enough info for now. Now, Hubby must wait for the first good fight, to see if OlderOne plays the "your not my dad" card. God, I hope not. We discussed how Hubby has been there since he was 4 and how he is always there for him, pushing, loving...everything. How he is here cause he wants to be. How he loved him from the start. Wow. That was tough.
I feel as though a weight has been shifted (not lifted) from my being. Now, what the hell to do with it and it's big ass shadow hanging over my head. My heart feels broken all over again, what is my son really thinking now, feeling now? Stinky boys and their inability to express themselves verbally.
Tonight was apparently the night. The one I have pondered for many years now. My OlderOne asked Hubby about biological parents and were we his. I was on my way home from Candleland when Hubby called me to tell me of this pending conversation. Out of nowhere? I guess on Smallville, Clark Kent (aka Superman) was chatting about this. Yeah, such inspiration really necessary? Anyway. OlderOne I am sure in his faint recollection knew the answer to said question, but I toughed it out. Yes, I am your mother, No Hubby is not your real dad. No, I was never married to your real dad. Your donor (no, I didn't say that) chooses not to be a part of your life. That is his problem, not yours, You did nothing to cause this...on and on. I had a horrible ache in my chest. I wanted to lie and say he was dead. I didn't, nor did I say anything about how I despise, loathe and dread the day he will try to walk back into our lives. The Mom in me said that someday (hopefully a long, long time from now) you may want to meet him and I will do my best to help that happen. We also chatted about the difference in last names. OlderOne has my maiden names for all intent and purposes. Technically he is hyphenated with his donors last name, but how much was I supposed to go into on one tiny (GIANT) question? I explained to him, that also at some point if he wants to change his last name to Hubby's (ours) then there is alot involved and the his "real" dad would have to give us permission to do so and that would be a huge decision for everyone, not just his 10 year old self. I skipped over the dirt bags story, the hefer stepmom, the half sister and all the ghettoness that haunts my soul. Was I wrong? Should I have laid it all out there? In all the played in my head scenarios, blindsided on the drive home was not one of them. He never asked his name or if I had a picture, so, maybe that was enough info for now. Now, Hubby must wait for the first good fight, to see if OlderOne plays the "your not my dad" card. God, I hope not. We discussed how Hubby has been there since he was 4 and how he is always there for him, pushing, loving...everything. How he is here cause he wants to be. How he loved him from the start. Wow. That was tough.
I feel as though a weight has been shifted (not lifted) from my being. Now, what the hell to do with it and it's big ass shadow hanging over my head. My heart feels broken all over again, what is my son really thinking now, feeling now? Stinky boys and their inability to express themselves verbally.
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