“Good morning, handsome.”
With few exceptions, this is pretty much how we’ve started each day for the better part of a year. Sometimes it comes a little later in the morning, but our first greetings to each other are always good morning regardless whether it is a 6am or closer to noon on the weekends. I do like the routine of it, but it’s more than that. It is letting him know I am awake and thinking of him. It is connecting us for another day.
Our nighttime routine is similar. Although it tends to be “Goodnight, Daddy” or “Goodnight. I love you” at that time. I am letting him know when I go to bed, that I am adhering to his rule of bed before midnight, and also that he is the last thing I think of before I tuck in for the night.
I find much comfort in those few words each morning and evening. Even if we are busy and have little time during the day there are always those two check in points. As I’ve said, I like the routine of it. I like the grounding it gives me and the connection it establishes.
But what happens when those routines change?
It throws me completely of kilter is what it does. I’ve been lost this past week. I’ve felt like I’m being punished for doing something wrong. It feels like I am being ignored, and that’s the worst feeling in the world. Be mad. Yell. Scream. Argue with me. I can handle those things. Being ignored I can’t.
I know he isn’t punishing me or ignoring me to be mean or hurtful. I know he is dealing with some overwhelming things in his life right now and needs the space to deal with them. I just hate that I can’t help him through them and that I am seemingly cast aside and forgotten.
I know it isn’t about me.
I know he loves me.
I know he doesn’t want to hurt me.
But sometimes you hurt people one way by trying to protect them from a different kind of hurt. And sometimes the way you end up hurting them is much worse.