Mid-Summer Blues

It's weird. I don't know how many times I've looked at the sky this past year announcing how I couldn't WAIT to ship my kids off to dad's house in Florida for the summer. Ya'll may think that sounds mean but really... they can't WAIT to go. Dad is the fun one, you see... hard as that may be to imagine.

The month before summer my head is filled with ideas of things to do during my almost childless summer. By "almost" I mean, this is the littlest ones time with just mommy and daddy. And as much as I love that I have this time to devote just to her without having to rush off for someone else...

 I miss my kids.

I miss waking up in the morning and having somewhere to rush off too. I miss having my attention pulled in a gazillion directions and their energy. I miss the run around, the laughs, the conversations on the car rides home, the noise and even the sassiness and complaining. (Well... maybe, just a little.) As crazy as all of this makes me, it keeps me going. It keeps me from hiding out too long in my little mental bubble where depression is usually lurking.

Today is just one of those days. That son-ova-bitch, Depression, got a hold of me again. I've been trying dodge him... tried running past him as fast as I can hoping he won't trip me and drag me back in... I tried ignoring him...

Maybe if I pretend he's not there, he'll go away. 

It's beautiful outside, but I can't find the energy to go out. I miss my family. I miss my kids. The baby momma decided to have another psychotic episode this past weekend resulting in yet another denied visitation for the babe with his first 3 kids. At this stage it's pointless fighting it. Dragging it to court would only result into a slap on the wrist for her and more drama outside of the courtroom for us. The kids already know the deal and quite frankly, we're all over it. But I miss them too.

And I feel terrible for the little one.

I throw myself on top of my bed where she's sitting quietly playing. She's the best kind of company a girl can have these days, minus the temper tantrums that is. Those are occurring less and less with her ever expanding vocabulary. She's tucking away her daddy doll to nap for what seems like the 20th time today. She's peaceful, content and the little smirk on her face tells me she's happy in her own little world.

I find it a little funny how I always loved how she learned to entertain herself since she was an itty bitty baby. It was important to me that she learn to deal and appreciate the quiet. I'd lay her down in her crib wide awake to watch the butterflies floating above her crib and to learn to enjoy time with herself because that's where creativity lives... in the quiet moments with yourself. At least it did for me as a kid.

Yet, here I am wrestling with my demons wishing I could tap into something nearly as great as what she's experiencing.

I picked up my camera and started snapping photos. She lit up and posed for my camera... "Mommy, what are you doing?!" followed by happy squeals and giggles and "CHEESE!"

Lo and behold... Depression starts to loosen his grip on me with every snapshot. All it took was immersing myself into something, or in this case, someone, that truly makes me happy.