I wanted my son in my life and I couldn't have it both way. So I quit drinking. And while I am thrilled that he is taking tenuous steps back into my life, in some ways our reconciliation has seemed almost false at times. That may be the wrong word. Maybe strained, or forced, would better explain it. My son would stop by for a few minutes, or for dinner, and I would be on my "best behavior," always hoping that this was the time that he would really start believing in me. I was trying so hard. But somehow, it just didn't feel real. I can't explain it any better than that. When he was younger and living at home, we had a normal relationship. No one had to try to be anything - we were just a family, albeit a dysfunctional one.
So today, I am fighting a nasty bug and just couldn't get motivated. I was laying on the couch this morning in my jammies, feeling semi-crappy, and my son dropped by (with my grand-puppy, which is always fun). I didn't feel well enough to be on my "best-behavior." So, I was just mom for a change. Mom who wasn't feeling well, and wasn't going to jump up, cook a meal, and try to impress him with my new-found sobriety. I know this probably sounds weird, but he stayed a long time this morning. Much longer than usual. He wanted to talk. Something he doesn't do often. I swear, it's almost like he was happy that I wasn't trying so hard. Lesson learned. I guess this is my new normal. As always, thanks for listening.
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