Welcome Back, Chaos

They're Back.

It’s been 8 long days.

8 long nights.

It doesn’t feel natural. No mother should have to be away from her babies this long.

J came back grumpy. His lacrosse gear wasn’t returned to my mom this morning, even though he asked his dad to make sure it was. His birthday is this weekend, so I’ve been coordinating the details over text—with him and his best friend’s mom. Thank God I adore her. She’s often the light guiding me through the chaos of raising a teenage boy. (Honestly, she deserves her own post someday.)

Of course, J was locked out of the apartment—again. Third time in a year. His key “disappeared” while he was at his dad’s. He swears it was in the cubby in his father’s garage. I have my own theories, but that’s a story for another time. I had to call my mom to let him in since I was working today, covering for a coworker.

E was the only one actually excited to see me. She texted me from school:“I threw up at school and the nurse won’t let me leave, plus I dyed myself pink (I’ll explain later).”Translation: she was embarrassed and wanted to come home. It’s not the first time she’s wanted an early pickup on a Friday exchange day—I think she gets anxious to be back with us. My mom picked her up. Later, E sent me pictures of her hands. Yep, bright pink. She wasn’t lying.

CCC (yes, triple initials) has been bouncing between loving and absolutely miserable since 3:54 PM. He jumped into my arms off the bus—pure joy. Then he got annoyed because we were going to look at houses. Then he had a meltdown in the car about wanting a “hot snack.” Then he was mad because “his dad lied” about air mattresses. Then he begged for a sleepover at GG’s. The emotional rollercoaster is so familiar to any parent navigating shared custody—you can feel the dysregulation the moment they step back in.

Luckily, Jack (who usually fights with him the most) stepped up and offered to take him to play basketball. And just like that, peace was restored—for the moment.

Then there’s ABC.

Always the most emotionally volatile.

She burst into tears the second I said we were looking at houses to buy.

“Why did I even try to make friends if we’re just going to move?”

Then came the joy. The excitement. The rants about her dad. Then—boom—a punch to her brother’s face. Fist cocked, direct hit. Honestly? I never quite know what to do with ABC. She's my wild card.

And just as I was finally heading to pick up my baby girl—20 minutes away—I got a call from daycare. Her eardrum had ruptured during nap time. My heart cracked open. I hadn’t seen her in a week. How many times had she complained about her ear and no one listened?

When I got there, dried blood covered the entire right side of her face. But she was smiling. She grabbed onto me so tightly.

“I missed you, Mommy. I missed you so much.”

We were all dysregulated.I was overstimulated.The week had drained me. I had a headache. My nerves were shot.

But we’re back together.

We’ve got big plans for the weekend.

We’ve got big plans for life.

And no matter how hard it gets—We stick together.

Because together, we’re stronger.