Thursday, July 18, 2013

The wall

Last night we all piled into our 'camping out' room- my bedroom, the bedroom with the air conditioning. Me, Seth, Logan on his mattress on the floor and 3 dogs. The conversations are hushed, the light dim. The mood is so playful and relaxed as Logan and I joke with each other until I look down and he's asleep. I turn off the lights and sigh..I love this life..at this moment, all is perfect in my world.

We wake this morning and as usual I go downstairs with dogs and get my coffee. I hear the door open and then footsteps to the bathroom. The shower runs. A few moments later he comes downstairs in full work attire, ready for his Thursday workday. I am looking forward to the elevator ride so I can show him the "Hello Logan" sign I secretly stuck in the empty phone box.

Just as we are set to leave, we hit a wall. A big, giant, cannot go around concrete wall. I have hit this wall before and I still bear scars from banging my head against it. This does no good. There is no way over it, through it or around it, you just have to endure the pain of hitting it, back off, and wait.

There is no explanation really. Its confusing and beyond frustrating. It was a small argument over something dumb, but it sent him stomping to the bathroom, the only room that locks- and *click* it was all over, he was barricaded in and done dealing with me. (That lock is coming off TODAY).

I hate these moments. I really, really do. We have missed important things because of this concrete wall. We've been late to parties, missed appointments, rushed to things we had plenty of time to get to...I glance at the clock and know if I wait too much longer, I will miss a spot in the limited parking lot at work. I have to make a choice. I have to give him a choice.

"Logan, we need to go. You need to come out of there so we can go. I know you're pissed off at me, we can talk about it on the ride to work."

**********silence*********
 
So I leave him. I grab my stuff and go out to our shop to tell Seth "He's all yours". He looks confused because he had just been inside and all was well. I don't even have the patience to explain it all and he understands. He too has scars from the wall...
 
That frigging wall that separates us from our child. That horrible wall that prevents us from knowing what he really feels in those moments. I know he gets frustrated, I know he gets angry. He can't be happy and cooperative all the time. He is entitled to have those moments of being pissed off and having some time alone. It's just that damn wall...I hate it.
 
I drive to work in silence next to an empty seat that should have my co-worker in it. I realize my secret phone sign will go unseen. I wonder what he's doing or feeling. I worry that maybe I should have waited for him. I hate that wall for locking me out of his world. I am frustrated with this life...at this moment, all is empty and confusing in my world.