Scattered Landmines

four

After returning to my father's house, I wrote out a list of supplies that I would need to use for cleaning the house and emailed it to my dad so he could easily pass it along to his worker. I am looking forward to being put to some use and acquiring a proper schedule. I feel like I'm bursting with untapped potential, given that I hadn't worked a job since before Brooks was born unless you would consider the daily duties of a stay at home mom, which can be much more exhausting and slavish than given credit for, a career job.

My intentions after high school were alway to attend a University and graduate with a career in nursing, but life had a different plan for me. I became pregnant at nineteen and had Cami nine months later, shortly after my twentieth birthday. Having Cami so young put a hold on any dreams I may have had for myself. Jake was enrolled in college at the time and bartending nights, making decent enough money for a college student. We put Cami in a part-time daycare facility so I could maintain working daytime shifts waiting tables at a crappy diner. After Cami was in public school and Jake completed college, he took a job, using his degree as an aerospace engineer at a private company that designs and builds small lear jets. One of the many arguments we encountered over the years was his desire for me to stay at home and take care of Cami (before Brooks was born) as well as overseeing the household duties.

In contrast, I coveted the idea of returning to college to continue working on my nursing degree in the hopes of offering a scant amount of self-independence. Me being young, naive, at the time, and not standing my ground played into myself, allowing Jake full control over my life decisions. Once his job provided relief from the constant financial struggles, we fell into a mundane routine, and from then on, all I did was live for Jake and the kids; I was the sun amidst their orbiting planets. That is until this last time he decided to cheat on me, and I had finally had enough of his deceiving shit, igniting a raging fire under my ass to once and for all get out from underneath his wallet, and boomerang my life back on track.

Only after engaging in a short nap, which I attest to me requiring from the time difference and desynchronosis of traveling, I unpack the few contents from my suitcase transporting them into the dresser against the wall, which is the only piece of furniture apart from my bed in the spare room. I still have an abundant amount of clothing and furniture that are being freighted as we speak, but I unload what I have with me, so I may begin feeling more at home. Anything disorganized or out of place has a strong tendency to stress me out and give me anxiety. I should be accustomed to messes, having children, and the fact that they can destruct a home within minutes, but I can't bring myself to go to bed and wake up to the after-effects of a cluttered and untidy house.

Voices from downstairs fill the room, and I'm immediately aware that Cami and Brooks are home, so I excitedly descend downstairs to inquire about the events of their day. It might not be considered healthy, but these two human beings are the source of my happiness.

"Hi, you guys," I say, giving them both hugs and kisses, with Cami only allowing me a less than mediocre hug, but I'll selfishly take it. "How was your day?"

Shoes and jackets are tossed onto the floor, and bookbags are catapulted onto the counter. It ceases to amaze me how much gear is required and necessary for them to lug around for only one day at school. I could backpack for a month through Europe with less weight heaved on my back.

Immediately Cami asks, "Mom, may I spend the night with my friend Maysie on Friday? She's one of the girls from school, and I can have her over to study one night this week so you can meet her mom when she picks her up." Cami's trained and understands that the only way she can spend the night at a friend's house is if I meet the parents and am comfortable enough with them for her allowed a sleepover.