I've been thinking about how easy it is to talk yourself into stuff. Unimportant stuff like an ice cream cone or treating yourself to a pedicure even though you know the nail polish hasn't chipped. But sometimes more important stuff, too.
I spent a lot of years in my former life talking myself into a better reality than what was there. And when the kids came along, bump bump bump, I just decided one day that the LeaveItToBeaver life is what we deserved and needed.
I picked up my family and ran with it. Full tilt, towards camping and cub scouts and volunteering, and hanging out with neighbors until 10pm while the kids played street hockey. I'm sure my previous thought he had entered the twilight zone after long trips away when he was greeted with kids in every room and cookie crumbs and blankets strewn around.
Life worked out pretty well for the most part. And given enough time, life normalized there in that happy and normal place where the in-or-out kind of pivotal decision felt like no decision at all. Of course it wouldn't: I had already made my choice.
And so I excluded whatever tore at the fabric of my family. That unfortunately included my previous. Obviously problems arose and cracks formed around the foundation when Things Happened. And Things Happened with great regularity. Some people got away with things they shouldn't have. Some people gave up on caring about what really mattered. And some people pretended like it wasn't happening.
But you know, for all my failings as a wife for opting out, I have no regrets. My sons had no choice into whose family they were born, and their tender hearts were counting on me to do right by them. And free will being what it is, my previous had a host of better choices he could have made. He lived the life he wanted, and maybe I just had the good sense to step out of his way.
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