Sofia came running out to give me a big hug when I arrived home from work. I was so proud of her! She had already taken her bath, eaten her dinner, and was all ready for bed. I've been working with her a lot lately, trying to help her understand that there are certain tasks that must be performed each day. She's been fighting it, but she is starting to show signs of accepting responsibility. Finding out how well she'd done today - well, it was a pleasant surprise.
When I walked inside the house, I got another surprise, and it was not pleasant. The stench from Marcus' potty nearly knocked me out. It was clear that the potty had not been emptied all day. And where was Marcus? I normally find him in his crib when I get home.
I paused and listened for a moment. I could hear Isabel in the kitchen, talking to Marcus.
I emptied and washed the potty as quickly as I could and went to the kitchen to say hello to the rest of my family.
Marcus was tired, which always makes him fussy. Isabel was in a foul mood, too, but that could not possibly be due to tiredness. It was obvious that she hadn't lifted a finger around the house all day.
As soon as I walked into the kitchen, she wanted to know why I had not come back there to greet her as soon as I had arrived home. I said something about the smell from Marcus' potty - and really, it was just a casual comment about needing to get it done right away! - and she instantly jumped my shit.
"You and your damn job!"
"You don't care anything about me!"
"You have no idea how hard it is, staying home all day with the kids!"
"Blah blah blah!"
Honestly, I stopped listening half way through her tirade. I don't see why she had to pitch a fit like that. All I did was make one innocent remark about the potty. I could have mentioned the half rancid formula bottles on the kitchen floor. I could have mentioned that Marcus still wearing the same pajamas I'd dressed him in last night. I could have mentioned that Sofia had to get her dinner and bath on her own. But I didn't.
There wasn't any point.
I put Marcus to bed. Sofia was sleeping soundly. Isabel had locked herself in the bathroom. Fine with me. I was reasonably confident that she wasn't in there slitting her wrists, and aside from that, I really didn't care much what she was up to. I sat down to try to enjoy a little peace and quiet.
Peace and quiet is hard for me to come by, though. Or at least, peace is. I kept worrying about work. I didn't want to have to work all weekend, but it was going to be necessary. The experimental cultures I had been growing in a Petri dish for the last two weeks were ready for analysis, and putting it off 'til Monday was not an option. The only reason I'd come home so early tonight was that the last set of cultures needed twelve more hours before I could safely put them under the microscope.
The first words of my job description are: "Researcher, Alternative Fuels. Schedule: Monday - Friday, 8am-5pm."
But that's just a lot of HR bullshit.
Research is a 24/7 job. Or at least, it's a "as much time as you can humanly spare" job.
But lately, I haven't been able to give it my all.
It's not that I don't love my work. I do. My team's research into alternative fuels could well lead to the production of the first truly affordable Green car. Who wouldn't want to be a part of that? How could I turn down my chance to make the world a better place for my children?
That was the kicker. My children. It's hard to focus on making a better future for them when I'm worried all the time about their present.
By no stretch of the imagination can I be called an expert in child development, but I am concerned that Marcus might not be reaching all his milestones on schedule. He can't talk, he can't walk, and the only reason he can use the potty is because I worked with him so intensively on it for the past few weeks. I know he isn't stupid, and I don't seriously think he has a learning disability. I suppose it's just that Isabel doesn't try to teach him things.
And then there's Sofia. She's a smart girl, and sweet when she wants to be, but there's no doubt she's got an attitude on her. It's bad enough that she's nine going on nineteen, but it's more than that. I'd almost say she seems arrogant. There haven't been any problems at school, but I find myself wondering if I'll start getting phone calls from the principal soon.
So with all this going on, the last thing I need to be thinking about is the first thing that I find myself thinking about at the end of a difficult day . . . .
I thought that cheating on my wife would make me feel like a horrible person, but so far, it hasn't. I guess it just doesn't feel like Laurel and I are doing anything wrong. I mean, yeah, we've had sex, we're only human. But with Laurel . . . I don't know. I need her. Not in a sexual way, but I . . . I just need her. When I'm with her, I feel good, and when I'm not, I feel bad. That's just how it is, and if that makes me a rotten shitass of a guy, well, then, I guess I'll just have to learn how to accept myself as a rotten shitass.
Not that I'll be getting a chance to see Laurel tonight, anyway.
