Last night, E got off the phone with his BioDad and I knew something was wrong. First, TDH Man and I had heard E arguing with BioDad about not being able to attend his Strings Concert later this month. Second, he semi-pouted his way up the stairs before bed. Two clear signs that he was brooding, like I tend to do.
When I went up to say prayers with him before bedtime I asked him, feigning ignorance, what was wrong. He huffed and puffed his way through his side of the story and I sat on his bed, biting my tongue. Normally, I would rush to BioDad's side, explaining to E that parents have commitments, need to work to pay their bills, need their own sanity, but nope. I just sat and bit my tongue. A few months ago, I read something about how if you want your kids to confide in you, just sit and listen. Don't speak, don't offer advice, don't do anything but listen. And as much as I wanted to pipe up and say to him "FINALLY! You're seeing what I saw for four miserable years!" I didn't. I just bit my tongue.
Because in the end, I want to be the Momma that E runs to when he's sad and needs to vent. I want to be the Momma he depends on, even when BioDad is too busy. Having two families can be a blessing and a curse and no matter what, I want E to at least feel like I'm present in his life, always.
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