I want to live with Dad!

Just when I’d gotten used to “I hate you!” and “I can’t wait until I can move out!”, the game changes.  With my husband and I recently separated, these horrible phrases have been replaced with “I want to live with Dad!” and “Daddy lets me…”.  Sigh.

I can’t believe how much it hurts, despite trying so hard not to take it personally.  And I know The Professor doesn’t mean it.  He’s just being a ten year old.  He’s being a ten year old stuck in the middle of adult bullshit.  But every time he says it, my heart sinks and the world freezes in place for a split second.  My breath catches — my heart rate speeds up a notch and I’m, for just one second, wanting to scream at him “Can’t you see I did this for all of us? This is hard for me too ya know!”

I hope I’m not screwing my kids up trying to do the right thing.  My marriage has been on the rock for years.  I’ve been holding on to this feeling that I wasn’t going to make it, desperately searching for some resolution that wouldn’t hurt anyone. But there wasn’t one.  Because living in a marriage that was as volatile as mine was becoming was hurting all of us, perhaps more than separating has.

But I don’t know that I will ever get used to the new verbal massacre’s I face when my children lose control.