Chapter One
Part Two
The result? She’s amazing, my Eva. I love being her mother. Because of my profitable and steady work, her father was able to be at home with her full-time until she started kindergarten. He read and talked with her constantly. They did daily projects of all sorts, took long adventurous walks, joined mommy circles, maintained a spotless house, and welcomed me home each day with squeals and kisses. She was the reason her father and I came together. She was the reason we stayed together for seven very happy child-focused years. We made a great team. We were team Gemini. All three born in early June. We were goofy in our intent concentration on that girl. It was as sweet as the strawberries that grew in our garden and the circles of hippy friends that gathered often to celebrate the turnings of the seasons and the milestones of our sprouts. We had a community.
We, the husband and I, did not have a passionate adult commitment to each other, however. We organized our marriage and our divorce like Fred Rogers would have. Eva was six when we divorced, and she transitioned smoothly. I like to think so because she had a strong foundation of cooperative, kind parents. She later opened her little big heart for her new step-dad, with whom I was and am passionately in love with. For five years now, she has had two happy households to profit emotionally and otherwise from. Both with step-siblings and both with bonuses galore. My orderly and beautiful home includes three step-sons currently 15, 12, and 9, my daughter who is named Eva, and my “I-cannot-believe-how-yummy-rich-this-love-is” husband, Stephen.
Perfection, right? No. It’s just the illusion of perfection.
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