The human heart is big enough for two. By that I mean, a couplet of feelings. Even contradictory ones. 

One time I left Benjamin when he was three. Don't worry, John was in charge, but it was the first time I had left my as yet undiagnosed special needs child for more than an afternoon. I flew across the country to be with my sister, which was a blast, but there was that shadow of anxiety around how Ben would do without me. I wanted him to be fine, but then again, well I didn't. Because that would mean, you know, I was replaceable. 

It turns out that John is a fabulous father. They became closer in my absence which is great. And disappointing. 

When John first joined a barbershop chorus, I was pleased for him. Really I was. Except that I wasn't. It meant he spent every Tuesday evening in the lead section belting out songs from the forties. While I was wrestling small children into bed. He was having fun. Did I mention that I wasn't?

One Wednesday morning after a particularly snarly evening of whining toddlers I asked him over breakfast.

"How was last night?"

He paused, considering. If he said he had had a terrific time, it would be a lead into a tirade about how rough mine had been. If he pretended it had been mediocre I would launch into what a waste it was for me to shoulder the kids for no reason. 

"I'm not sure what to say."

I shrugged. 

"You are right. Either answer is dangerous."

These days the girls put themselves to bed. John can stay out as long as he likes. Except that barbershoppers are typically on the old side, and most of the members of his chapter have passed on. He stays home on Tuesday nights. 

I am sad about that. Except, that I am happy.