Ex Number Two had been causing me some definite grief. But like the sun rises in the east, he makes a sudden mental shift and it's all coming up roses again.
I knew it would; he cycles through his pattern faster than my washing machine cycles through a heavy load.
His lows remind me every time why I left him. I feel nothing. The abusive behavior comes back, the mind f**k returns and I feel like I've been tossed five years back into a quagmire of mental hell - and I don't even live with him.
But when that cycle spins around, ooooh...
I had been having a bad time during the March break. Both kids had been at home for the week. The teen slept until 2 p.m. every day and didn't want to participate in activities. The toddler screamed and bounced off walls begging for an energy release.
I watched my workload pile up with no chance to dig in and earn some money. Fine, I thought. This is my chance for some forced vacation. We'll go to a museum. In the city. Two hours away. In winter.
The drive took nearly three hours, my teen moped through the halls and my toddler didn't care for any exhibit that didn't ring, pop, snap, or buzz. The dinosaurs turned her on, and we spent a lot of time patting monster replicas.
I got a parking ticket I couldn't afford, we'd forgotten to eat supper and everyone was hungry and there was black ice on the roads. Let's just say I should've stayed home.
The next day was a snowstorm and we were back to bouncing-off-the-walls-chaos. My teen begged to go snow tubing. My toddler wanted to watch cartoons all day long. I wanted to cry.
The day after, I woke up determined to have a Good Time. Snow tubing it would be! The sun shone brightly, it wasn't cold, and I was ready.
No one else was interested. I felt like a failure. "I want to see Daddy," my toddler proclaimed and now I felt like a failure and abandoned. But I called and passed on the message after a brief explanation why we were at home and not out in the beautiful sunshine.
He showed up an hour later. "Get your coats on," he said. "Everyone. We're going out." He poked my teen, dressed my toddler and packed us all in the truck. We went for a drive, stopped to see a herd of deer that had come down to the side of the road, and looked for a skating rink. We came home, had tea, and it was wonderful.
Why can't he be like this all the time?