Part III of Phase IV of Operation: Re-Lillification began this morning at approximately 8:17 AM. WTF?!? Phase IV? Of...of what? Who do you think you are Lilly? George Fuckin' Lucas? You've got the belly for it, that much we can see...and the plaid shirts, but face it baldy, you do NOT have the locks, and you haven't even told us about Phase I - III yet!!!
I KNOW you have no friggin' clue what I'm talking about and why should you? I haven't been able to complete and post the whole postponed '300th Post', the huge tome of 6000 plus words (and growing) that will, somehow (I hope, hope, hope...) explain why I went from occasionally posting over the summer about what a miserable life I have and how much I like to bitch about it compared to where I am at this moment in time, a place where I am being more optimistic, less bitchy and actually having plans within plans, schemes within schemes.
Much like a shark does. Hee hee.
I say that only because recently I was thinking that a lot of the plotting/planning I was doing regarding attacking the problems of my life and how to eradicate them might be similar to that of how a shark must think when assessing a possible target of prey in the water and how he/she might go about shredding it into bite-sized bits of tasty morsels.
The analogy was SO heavily etched into my mind that particular day that I changed my profile picture to reflect that thinking, and one of my Facebook pals, and reader of this blog and writer of her OWN, pointed out that in the photo 'He looks like he's plotting something...', which was, obviously, why I chose it.
So what is Operation: Re-Lillification? In a very brief nutshell, with much more to come later I assure you, it is my attempt to put the broken pieces of myself and my family back together again, and make some things that weren't even broken in the first place a little better in the process if I can.
Simple as that.
Phase IV, specifically, is all about Carter, my first born son.
I need to re-build some of the bridges back to him that I've allowed to disintegrate over these past many months, I need to let him know with unwavering certainty that I am his best friend and greatest resource, so I'm chipping away at the damage I've done by doing some little things, bit by bit. I'm nothing if not INTENSE about trying to plan and track and chart and progress, but I also know that I can't just smother the poor boy and that, like weight loss or exercise, the best results come from slow, progressive, repetitive change.
Part I was a Godzilla City we built together, Part II was a bow and arrow thing that is a LONG story and part II/A was something my wife tossed in unexpectedly, an evening of reading/bedtime stories, which turned out to be the best one of all. This morning was the initiation of Part III of my plan with him which simply involved making every Friday our day to have breakfast together, just him and me.
Instead of me making him breakfast here and Jen taking him and Bennett to their respective Day Care/School scenarios, I take Carter to breakfast out at a restaurant and then he gets to Day Care a little late. So he's a little late? BFD. I'll trade that for stronger familial foundations any day of the week,
Now...why couldn't I have just fucking said that in the very first paragraph and saved you all this other horseshit along the way? Cause that's what I DO. Haven't you figured that out by now?
It was, of course, kid's choice, which meant, of course, Mickey D's (yuck). He had Pancakes and Sausage. I had coffee. I must say. McDonald's coffee has improved TEN THOUSAND PERCENT since the last time I had some. Congratulations all ye descendants of Ray Kroc...only took you 70 years.
We didn't talk much. He was tired. I was tired. But I wasn't expecting anything out of Pulp Fiction. But we chit-chatted a bit. We chilled together, and it was exactly what I hoped it would be.
We did bump into Aunt Debbie and Uncle Larry. It is a very small town. Said hey.
Then I took him to Day Care, dropped him off, we gave each other big hugs, and that was that.
Until next Friday. And the next. And the next.
And that's how I'll be handling things with Carter from this point on. Trying to add new things into the mix as I can. I know he's felt left out. I know Bennett's situation has put tremendous strain on him, made him feel more alone, more isolated, less 'special'. I know I am not the most emotionally outgoing man on the planet, and not just to my kids, but to everyone I love. Will I always have to struggle? Yeah, unfortunately I will, but that's the deck I got dealt. It's the way life is for me. I accept it. I'll have my good days. I'll have my not so good days. But that doesn't mean I can't be a better father or a better husband, and I will be.
One day, one STEP, at a time.