The First Night

First –noun
10. the person or thing that is first in time, order, rank, etc.
11. the beginning.
12. the first part; first member of a series.

I left my husband on the 1st of the year. I thought it was poetic to start my life over with my kids on the 1st of 2011. After what an epic fail 2010 was I really wanted to feel like I was going to do something memorable and wonderful with 2011. So my memorable act would be me, the quiet and meek lady that I am “showing my children how to be quitters” (words from my X) by quitting my marriage of 9 years and putting my big girl panties on and leaving. Now I am just hunting for something wonderful to do and I want to make sure that I do it with my kids.

So when I told my kids that we were moving out and that Daddy wasn’t coming with us they were unfazed. Is this the moment when I should be concerned? Does this just tell anyone who reads this that they were happy to not see their parents hating on each other day to day? You the reader may puzzle this out on your own.

The week before we moved out I told their dad. Get ready for this. He was shocked! I know what you are thinking. Of course he was shocked, you just told him you were leaving in a week! That isn’t much time at all. Well can I say that in the 3 months previous to that he had told me at least 3 times that I should get a job so that I could make our savings last longer (he’s disabled and doesn’t work and has no intention of trying to either) and that if I didn’t like it here I should just get my own place. So he actually told me to leave.  Not only that but when I asked him about it he told me that it was a test (him asking me to leave) and that I failed by getting my own place. Wow, what a stupid test. How did that blow up in your face?

Now my oldest is 7, and the younger ones are 5 and 2. So I know that honestly they are too young to understand much.  I didn’t want this to seem like a big deal. I don’t hate on my kid’s dad to them. I try to even puff up his image when he is being a selfish ass. I wanted this to be a simple move, that was predicated on me not wanting to fight anymore. So I took them to see the apartment the day before we were to move in. They were very excited to say the least. I was glad of that. And of course their dad was very unhappy about the move. He even asked if we would stay home one more night so that he could make it memorable before we left.

Well I said no. I never say no by the way. I spent years being the yes lady. So finally saying no felt good.

I am sure after reading all of this drama and then reading the title you are wondering what the purpose of this post was. Well here it is.

Our first night in our tiny apartment was great. My 2 oldest kids have suffered night terrors for years. And since moving out, leaving behind the stress of the unhappy fighting and tense environment my kids slept all night. No nightmares, no night terrors. So while occasionally I feel guilty for taking away his kids, for being a quitter, for not finding a way to make it work, and for creating a situation of drama with the whole separated, divorce on the way, and of course the visitation scheduling. I can say with good conscience that I know what I did was for the best because it is reflected in how much better my kids are doing. That my peeps is the only confirmation that I need that I did what was best.

Always,

Lady X

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