I knew the separation was going to hit the boys hard. Their daddy wasn’t going to be there in the middle of the night. The Husband didn’t think it would be that bad. Maybe an outburst or two. He figured that they would be used to him going away for two weeks and being back for two weeks that this would be cake.
But it wasn’t. They’ve been sniffing the air, testing it, knowing something isn’t quite right with their family. Evan asked one day months ago, “Daddy, why do you make Mommy cry?” Here we thought we were having our tough conversations with them tucked in bed asleep. Or the day after The Husband decided we needed a separation. Evan said, “Mommy, is Daddy going away to live in California forever?” “No, Baby; he’d never leave you.” Or later that day when Sean said this, “Daddy, you don’t go away. We need you. We ALL need you.” This was months before we even decided on the official separation and before we even told them. So yeah, I knew it would hit them hard.
It will be two weeks from tomorrow when we told them. Evan has peed his pants once a day, if not twice, since then. Sean is having accidents almost every day too. I don’t know how I can reassure them any more. We hug them and love them. We whisper our love into their ears. We’ve kept the Saturday Fun Day with the family going. My mom gushes over them, holding them. But the accidents keep happening.