In which we bitch about family BS some more

So, at this point in the summer I am so missing my boys, its almost like my arms ache. Seening those little kids running around at church was like a trigger for me just craving to hug and cuddle a little one. I miss their noise and their chaos and their mess. I know, I miss their mess.

Anyway, its an emotional week and its only Monday. I have a final project to do for three separate classes. I have assignments to finish. I thought I had preschool for gideon and Isaiah's summer challenger activities figured out, but today it seems that no one knows anything about it, so I have to do some phone stalking on top of all of that.

And the closer that killer road trip gets, the more anxiety I feel towards it. I know I seem fairly nonchalant about the drive to Dad's, and I've made the drive a few times now. But sometimes I think about the speed and the forces involved with the mass of teh vehicles, and I feel a litte panicky. Plus I'll be driving on the third, so every asshole between here and knoxville wil be shooting fireworks, some at the road.

And then there's dad. He knows and has known that I wouldn't have a lot of time to visit. I drive up the third, stay the fourth, and we drive back the fifth. Okay. Did he take a day off? didn't even try. Last time I was there, when I stayed a full week, he had one day off, he'd traded the other regular day off to go see Emily graduate boot camp. Am I completely selfish to be wondering why he can't set that time aside to hang out with me, his daughter, his oldest child, and the mom of his wonderful grandsons? I have never been an important thing in his life, and I will never be a priority, and every time I realize that about him it hurts all over again. And i wish I knew why that realization keeps being so painful.