Last night I crawled into bed shortly after putting Aitch down. Sparring Partner and Doodicus were at a local football game and so the house was quiet.

I turned on my bed so that I was facing the video monitor which showed she had quickly fallen asleep, curled up on her side with Corncorn cuddled to her face. I was overwhelmed with the urge to go to her room, pick her up, and bring her to bed with me so I could cuddle with her like she was cuddling that stuffed unicorn. She’s my lifeline right now as I feel myself fall into yet another bout of depression.

It’s like she’s the only “normal” person living in this home. Doodicus’s¬†issues with school and his current pre-adolescent stage filled with belligerence¬†and rude behaviour makes me not want to be around him. I’m happy to let him play video games so I don’t have to listen to him whine or cry or stomp his feet when I tell him to pick up his toys.

Sparring Partner and I are…

…are what, I can’t really say. We are housemates who have children together. If I try to tell him I am sad or scared or unhappy, somehow we end up arguing and finger-pointing. So, I don’t tell him I’m sad and scared and unhappy.

That brings me back to Aitch. When it comes to her needs and demands, which sometimes make me feel expended because of everything else, I know right now she’s what keeps me centered as the rest of my life seems to spin out of balance. Ironically, it will only be a matter of time before her own life’s story about her donor becomes a source of anxiety. Until then, I gaze at her wistfully, polarized by my need to be as close to her as possible and the need to escape.