You know in life you always have that first heart break. It never crossed my mind that Thing Two would experience it from the one man who should carry her heart like a delicate piece of china. Big Cheese broke her heart this weekend and I want to tear his apart for making her feel like that.
I am typing this with bags and dark circles under my eyes. My heart breaks for my baby girl. Saturday was her big day. She got her first ever trophy that day. Big Cheese, no where in sight. Las Vegas to be precise on his location. I had a huge discussion with him about this decision. Big Cheese had known about this big day since January when the soccer schedules were given. I would have seen it as a mere over sight had it not been for the fact that he never backed out of going.
To top it off, it was his weekend with the Things. He actually called me to cover for him so that he could go and he would take the next two weekends to be with the children. I just couldn't believe he was going to miss her big day. When I reminded him of the day and that I would cover if he still wanted to go, he said "Thanks". I felt the blood heat up under my skin. In my head "Thanks" was a brush off of what this would do to my little dolls heart. I just answered "No need to Thank me, you will need to explain to the Things why you were not there". Of course I got no answer.
Lately we haven't been seeing eye to eye on things, and this just exacerbated those feelings. He had already let our children witness their father get into my face and yell and call me names in public. Their little hearts were suffering and all I wanted was some kind of normal for them. We argued once more before he left. Big Cheese thought I was just upset because he was going to Las Vegas. This wasn't like the times before, I wasn't concerned about our family, this time it was our children. It was a big day, a moment that is fleeting. It will never be her first trophy ever again. Las Vegas will always be there, but this moment is gone. Thing Two now holds the memory of her father being absent from that moment.
You must think by now "Well she is three, she can't possibly remember anything". All day on Saturday we were busy, happy, or so I thought. I saw a glimpse of her searching the crowd when she got the trophy, a slight sad look. I just left it alone, hoping it was just me that saw that look. Sunday morning as we ate breakfast with no one but her and I eating at the table she uttered the phrase I long feared would come sooner or later, "Mommy, Daddy wasn't at my banquet. It made me sad. Zoe had her daddy there". Her face was sullen and her eyes watered and filled with salty tears that I kissed away for her. It's all I could do. I couldn't discount those feelings. Her little heart was broken.
Times like these I wish he could see what he does by some of his actions. The same actions that made me walk away from him. Only this time it was not a 39 year old woman who's heart he broke, it was a three year old sweet vivacious little girl who's heart he broke.
I was so sad and mad. Mad that he had the ability to chose his own interest over his children. How does one make things better? I don't know, but I am going to try my best to be there and to help both my children heal from all this. I just hope the happy feelings out weigh those that reside in her heart at this moment.
