Home.

Last night I made the 2 hour drive to drop the kids off with their dad for his 1 night every two weeks with the kids.  Don't get me started.

So, recently both their father and I had found ourselves moving into new homes just one weekend apart so the kids had a lot of adjustments going on. Their dad is remarried to his third wife.  I was number 2.  The kids seem to be ok with their stepmother so I am very glad for that.

Unfortunately he has ever had much involvement with the kids. Other than his court ordered child support and 2 nights a month (and maybe 1 or 2 phone calls a month) that's it. Your typically "fun dad" who has no rules and sends them home exhausted, hungry and filthy.

The kids are not 5 and 7 and starting to understand the difference in roles between their parents. My son, the 7 year old has for about a year now expressed grief over having to go to his fathers.  And now the little one is beginning the same pattern. 

Although when we moved it was to someone elses 40 acre horse farm (woo hoo) our home was going to be quite an adjustment. Maybe 900sf, 2 bedrooms and 1 bathroom built in the 1950s and some parts definitely scream "I am 60+ years old!" None of the doors shut properly, the foundation slants terribly, unusually low ceilings, the whole dang house is just wonky.  Oh, and the ants. We lost a whole pantry to the ants. But it save me a few hundred dollars a month and I was praying the lifestyle would redeem the step down we were making home-wise.

Well, you can imagine my surprise (and embarrassed to admit, horror) when I learned dad's new house was also farmlike...except... Daddy's new place was 5,600sf, 6 private acres with 2 lakes and a new SUV purchased just for off road adventures. Oh and "Kids! We are going to let you pick out your own farm animals and build all kinds of awesome chicken coups and treehouses!" -Insert dejected mom face here-

I need to be shamefully honest here. I was scared. I was scared that all dad's bells and whisles would make my kids want to live at Daddy's, to be less grateful for what I had worked so hard at providing and to flat out leave Mommy and my wonky house in the dust. My insecurities started screaming. "You can't compete with that!" "It is going to be 'Mommy who?!'"  "You aren't worth enough for them to want to stay with you when they could have all of that."

Now, anyone who knows me at all knows I am not defined by things. Things don't impress me much to tell ya the truth.  I know people quite well who have lots and lots of fancy things.  And more times than not they are still searching for that something to complete them.  I'm not searching. I feel whole in my heart and no amount of money can buy that.

However, these are children.  Children are so impressionable and easy to sway with "things."  I was worried Mommy's unending love and full heart just wouldn't be enough.

Last night I drove the kids to their Dads. As usual the pleading began for me to call their dad and ask if they could just not come this time. (Yeah, that would go over like a fart in church) I knew I had to take them and there was no way out so I try my best to ease their fears and put their hearts in a comfier frame of mind.

My son said something in all of his sad pleading that hit me. He said "Mom, I just don't like Dad's house. I just want to be with you. Please!"  I had this weird mixture of sadness and curiosity.  So I inquired... He says to me "Dad's house is just too big mommy. I don't feel comfortable there. I just want to be home with you."  Home. 

Home.  I was stunned. Shocked. Ashamed to admit somewhat happy. My baby just wanted Home. It did not matter one bit about the goofy tiny house we now called home.  Mommy was home.  And it didn't matter what the 4 walls that contained us looked like.

While sharing some of these thoughts, a friend challenged my thinking... "Well, it isn't a competition, right?"  No. It isn't.  I don't need to live extravagantly and I don't need my children to value me more than their father.  I pray someday their father will become the man that they deserve in this life. I can only say that when you love how Mommys love and sacrifice how Single Mommys sacrifice, protect like a Mama Bear (even when sometimes the protecting is from the hurt left from their own father) you are going to experience some helplessness and fear that your whole world could be swept away by something like this.

The person who says they have no insecurities is a person full of poo.  Simple as that.  When you allow yourself to invest in love like this, it is as scary as crap. 

It hurts me to my core to know my son has fear of his father and both of my children experience insecurity and grief when it is time to visit. The tearful phone calls. The pleading to come and get them. But I am comforted to know that I must be doing something right.