Nick, I adore you and am beyond grateful for all you do as father to our son.
Recently I pulled out photographs to remember my father on Father’s Day. Brought back fond memories and tears. Good tears. Tears of love, tears of gratitude that he had been my father and grandfather to my son. My dad was a loving and involved father and grandfather. He loved us deeply. He loved us well.
Those photos reminded me of how lucky I am to have my husband by my side. He’s a loving father and devoted husband. Since my pregnancy, he’s been a hands-on father — affectionate and involved. He adores his son. He even flexed his working hours so that I could go back to work when our son was an infant.
Thank you, Dad. I love and miss you.
Thank you, Nick. I love you.
I love you both to the moon and back, to infinity and beyond.
We plan to do some mountain biking today. When my husband and son do steep downhill runs (downhill mountain biking), I just have enough time to drop them off at the top of a mountain and pick them up at the bottom. Hopefully today, if we ride (they went on a very long ride Friday which our son is still recovering from), I can ride, too.
On the Way to Father’s Day with My Dad
I’m on my way to my parents’ memory care to celebrate Father’s Day with my dad. Yesterday when my mother learned that I was going to be celebrating Father’s Day with my dad and not be taking her to her communication recovery group in Newport Beach, she became very distraught, cried, and tried to leave the facility. So, I got a phone call asking if they could hire somebody to take her to the course. It freed me up to meet with my father for Father’s Day.
Granted, I’m not able to take my kid to and from school on Fridays when I go and spend Fridays with my parents. So, whenever I go and spend Fridays with my parents during the week, it interferes with my parenting. Luckily, today my husband’s home and he’s taking my son to school. My son goes to school too far to ride his bike.
So, I’m anxious because I’ll be seeing my mother before she leaves, and I don’t know how she’s going to react. I’m just anxious because whenever I see them, they expect me to get them out of there (their locked memory care community). And, I can just only take so much of it emotionally. It’s very trying.
So, it interferes with my ability to do my passion, which is writing, blogging, which I haven’t been doing as much. And, yes, I know people, some people, are a little concern that I’m doing this while driving. But, it’s a long drive. It’s like a 20 minute, half hour drive. We’re in neighboring cities, but Mission Viejo is a long city. And, then, it takes a while to get from their memory care facility to the Newport Beach communications recovery group.
I just don’t want to keep taking my mom. I want to start backing out of being a caregiver. I still basically am. But, I want to start putting up more boundaries and protecting myself, which I had to do before all this. I had to protect myself. I have to protect my time.
I have to make sure I have enough energy to take care of myself and my son. First and foremost. I have nobody else, beside my husband. Yes, my son is an adolescent, but he doesn’t drive, and it’s just not safe for him to ride his bike to and from school because of super busy streets. The speed limit is like 50 mph. He doesn’t feel comfortable riding on these streets. He feels comfortable on mountain trails, but not on these streets.
Honestly, some mass shootings are perpetrated by people with untreated mental illness. I’ve had to stop myself from doing violent things. I’ve had completely horrifying thoughts and impulses, which I’ve had to tell myself not to act on, had to harness all my self control to not do. At the time, in fact, I was amazed that more violent acts don’t occur.
Brilliant. Just responded to another article that I have fought murderous (and postpartum incestuous and cannibal) thoughts and impulses. At the time, I was amazed that more murders don’t occur (and more infants not eaten).
Tonight, as I sit beside my husband watching videos of our son downhill mountain biking earlier today, I decided to express my gratitude in celebration of Father’s Day. My husband is a private man, and on more than one occasion he has warned me not to boast. So to keep my boasting to a minimum, and to maintain a modicum of privacy, I will keep my gratitude brief. My middle-aged husband is so dedicated and loving a father that he tries to keep up with our daredevil just-shy-of-fourteen-year-old son as they bicycle insane downhill mountain trails. Best of all, I love husband, and he loves (dare I say, adores) me. Parenting is tough. Parenting while living with a mental illness, even harder. Parenting with a supportive understanding spouse, the best thing ever. Thank you to the best father in the world (in my not so humble and very much boastful opinion).