"Its not grease its gel."

I walk into the room and b. is staring at the door.

Waiting.

Waiting for her dad. For me.

Fuck I love these kids. I don't deserve the kind of joy that they bring me. I see them and some how in spite of all the shiftlessness they still love me. s. loves to run up to me first thing and knock me over. Kiss me on the face and love all over me. a. also loves to knock me over.

V. comes into the house to help me pick them up so we can go on a picnic, and they are just as excited to see her. And she has this way about her that makes my heart sink.

We go and get pizza, and go to the park. There is a bit of a bee incident (bad week for bees apparently) and then we play. It is me, V. and the three of them. There is tickling and rolling about and laughter and family. And it is wonderful. But I have to ask. I have to ask how they are doing at the new house, and with J.'s new man, and if he is being good to them. b. gives me mundane details that kill me. I miss my life sometimes.

I miss normalcy.

I may never have it back again (something that I'm coming to terms with). Don't know that god wants me to have normalcy. But that isn't for me to worry about. Right now, survive, love, that is it.

Sometimes I feel like that fucker stole my life though.

"Let the dominos fall, I ain't got control."

-Rancid

I just spend the day enjoying my children. Watching V. enjoy my children.

Nothing could make me love my life more right now.

God is here, the kids are here, she is here.

Another good day.

File under Virtue.