I might as well not even exist in my family. In fact, I wish I didn’t.
A couple of months ago, I made up a funny nickname for my daughter. I’ve called her that name often ever since. My husband started calling her that, too. All good. But—today, both my daughter and my husband insisted that he made up that nickname, not me. And my daughter told me it’s funny when he says it but annoying when I say it.
I don’t understand. I know I made it up because she started calling me Sandy, which I hate, and to counter that, I made up a name for her. I cannot figure out how they can possibly think that I wasn’t the one who came up with it.
It’s not even about the nickname. (Well, it partially is because my daughter has now told me that I’m “not allowed” to call her that. Even though I’m the one who came up with it, and I’ve been using it for months.)
The bigger issue, though, is that I don’t belong here. Both of my kids have special little things with my husband but nothing with me. Nickname-gate is just one example. And a bad one at that since it was my stupid fucking thing.
My husband (John, not his real name) has his things with my son—video games, superheroes, Star Wars, boy things, etc. I have nothing with my son. And John has his things with my daughter—the nickname I came up with, another that actually was him, dad-hugs, and all sorts of things that they’ve done together that, by the way, I’ve also done with her, but she conveniently forgets everything I’ve done.
I’ve had times when my daughter and I have been very close. She comes into my room and we hang out and watch Criminal Minds on Netflix and talk about boys and whatever else comes up. In fact, she was hanging out with me in my room last night, and we were doing all those things.
But today, it’s all about dad. He has all the fun nicknames and fun everything. I’m just here. And my son seems to much prefer John’s company to mine.
No one chooses me.
If I ever left my husband, the kids would likely fight to stay with him. I would have nothing. I doubt they’d even want to see me ever again.
I know I’m an absolutely terrible mother, but don’t they even love me a little bit? I bet they would be happy if I was gone.
Oh wait, then who would cart them all over town?
I’m just the fucking driver.
My new favorite man on earth. [Simone Bredariol, Italian model, perfect man]
p.s. — I wish I had the courage to disappear.