I LOVE to do stuff. LOVE to be in the middle of things I am passionate about, but  sometimes I forget that I need to have some time to do REAL work (the stuff someone actually pays me for) or laundry or sleep.  There have been some nights when my computer is open and work awaits. But I am on the couch, unable to move. The wall has hit me.

Everyday has so many multiple phone calls, meetings, and tasks to accomplish that I don’t have time to stop for something. I REALLY don’t. And then it rains. Not metaphorically. No, it really rained here yesterday. I was totally expecting to see Noah floating down the highway yelling “Suck it BITCHES!!”. And, apparently, so was the school because they dismissed kids THREE HOURS EARLY. For rain, y’all, for RAIN.

Normally, no big deal because she has her key; but she couldn’t find it yesterday morning. I sent her off to school without it, assuring her I would be home when she got there at 2:30. But she didn’t get home then, did she? She got home at 12:25. And where was I at 12:25? In the middle of make-up application (yesterday I took photos for my blogger body calendar shoot). I was waiting for a phone call from her to say “Hey I’m out in the rain, come home.” But I never got it (I figured she found her key or was staying with a friend), so I just went on with my stuff. Then I got home, and there stood my children, on the front steps, soaking wet. Such a proud moment.

There I am in full hair and make-up (which I just want to scrub off, it’s so itchy) the photographer waiting for me, two wet kids on the front step, and I have to get in some sexy bustier/underwear combo and look great.

I need an intern, oh wait, I have one. I think I have one, she may be imaginary. But that’s another post.

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I am writing this post so you will be jealous. First let’s just say a given: It sucks to be me. Agreed? Awesome, let’s move on.

So here I am, new to this area, very few IRL friends, and tomorrow…TOMORROW I am supposed to be a very important event. WordCamp Mid-Atlantic. I snagged tickets 6 months ago, and the conference itself has been sold out for a while. But I have tickets. Except I can’t go. Cause I don’t have a sitter. No one that can take the kids to soccer or check in on them. When it comes down to choices: my burgenoing career as a WordPress Developer or my kids amateur soccer career- there’s no contest. Kids win every time.

But I am a hopeful person- so being the good parent I am I went about the finding the most qualified and safe person I could to watch my kids. On twitter. I mean I have 1,100+ followers. One of them wants to help me out, right? Wrong. Well, it sucks to be them, cause I am going to start tweeting Barry Mannilow lyrics. Suck on that TWITTER.

So tomorrow? Tomorrow I will be at soccer matches for the Killer Limes and the Ninjas. I am not bitter, at all, not even a little bit. Why am I not bitter? So unlike me, I know. Cause I don’t know if you noticed but I can be a little bit bitchy when things don’t go my way. It’s true. I keep it well hidden.

Nonetheless, no bitterness here. Because these are moments with my kids. Moments my ex declines to have. He doesn’t come up to see the kids, discarding that they have lives up here, instead hiding behind the matra “The kids can come down here ANY time to see me.” (He lives in Virginia.) Think he will come up here to see a soccer game? Take them out to a movie? Hell, even when HE is up here he doesn’t see them. The following is an actual conversation:

The Ex picks the kids up at camp at my request, it’s 3 hours round trip. It’s his last weekend in MD and he will in town until the following morning. The kids walk in with their stuff and head for the computers and I ask:

Me: You going to spend the time with the kids, take them to a movie or something (it’s only noon).

Him: I just spent 2 hours with them in the car, bought them McDonald’s, what more do you want?!

(Let me tell you the story of what my dad did once. I was living with my Mom 6 hours away in Illinois and wanted my cat to live with me. He drove 6 hours ONE WAY on a weekend to drop off the cat. When my cat didn’t get along with my sister’s cat and I started to freak out the only way a 12-year-old can, he drove up the NEXT weekend (again six hours ONE WAY) to pick up said cat and care for it. That cat was still with my dad two years later when I moved back in with him. He isn’t the awesome dad ever, and has some serious issues, but I have never forgotten that).

That was mid-August. He hasn’t seen them since. Talked to them once or twice.

I want to ease the kids ache, their sorrow at the disappearance of their father from their life, so I put aside an important conference and show up. I show up at the games, I cheer them on, make their snacks.

I am an AWESOME parent. Stressed out, broke, busy, overweight, tired, perpetually behind, but I am here.

However, if you still would like to babysit, and can drive- you just let me know.

I hate the “What if…?” game, but I can’t help playing it. Especially this week. On Wednesday, for the first time since the divorce, I will hand over my children to my ex-husband. They will stay with him for a week and a half. I need this break desperately, they need time with their dad, plus I am traveling. But that hand over will cause me to have a full scale meltdown.

What if they like being with him better?

What if he says bad things about me (he won’t, he’s a good person, but the What if game isn’t about logic)?

What if they don’t want to come back?

How would I live without my children?

What if he’s a better parent?

What if they think that the person he’s living with is better mom?

What if she’s a better cook (not a stretch considering I hate to cook)?

What if….?

What if…?

Dear God, this is going be hard.