Lunch with R and G. It was good. I liked it. I take back what I said yesterday. I think that was true a few years ago, but recently, I genuinely had a good time being with them. Most of my aversion could be jealousy. They have the immunity to social reproach that I want. They have checked off all the boxes and requirements for people their age. They have everything that is expected of them. I don't want the same things they do, just the immunity. No one can criticize their life, except on the abstract level where nothing real or of importance happens. I am so far away from that invulnerability.
I'm at the library now. Going to stay here until they kick me out. Then home for sad dinner. Not a good day for mom.
Today totally feels like a Sunday. When does the library close anyway. 6. Yes.
I can't decide if I want to write. Or just do nothing.
One significant thing today, going back to the afternoon with R and G, was G using his dad voice when his kid wandered off the sidewalk into the road. That voice made me feel like an adult was yelling at me. I couldn't ever do that to my voice, to give command. I am missing this vital, useful piece. I could tell on the kid's face that he knew something was wrong. He immediately hugged G's leg and wanted to be picked up. R said that he knew G was mad. That was a real exchange right there, all around, with me clueless in the middle wondering how I could ever hope to be a parent.