The Ex Files, Day 4

ExH is back in my house. It's only been four days and I have no idea how I am going to make it for two months! Or longer if I can't find myself a house, like, this week. Universe? Can you hear me? A house, please?

It's a little hard to explain just *why* life with exH is so awful. He's nice, polite, and (so far) neat. He makes us breakfast and takes Lulu and Boo for walks in the park and out to dinner. He offers to pick up groceries. All in all, he's the perfect houseguest-slash-father of my children.

But I am miserable. After 15 months of freedom, I've instantly been tossed back in time two years. Back then I planned out nearly every minute of my at-home hours to minimize any interaction with him. He was angry, irritable, and often drinking. Nearly any conversation, however trivial, turned into a fight. So I hid. Sometimes literally, in my room or in the playroom with the kids, wherever he was most likely to leave me alone. Sometimes I hid in plain sight, making sure the kids didn't get too loud, eating family meals quickly and silently, and sleeping curled up in a corner of the bed. It was oppressive and exhausting.

Then he left and suddenly I could say and do whatever I wanted, whenever I pleased. The joy! The kids could make as much noise as they liked. If we wanted to stay up late on a Saturday night watching a movie, that was just fine, too. We settled into a new routine and grew into our new life.

Now that's all on hold and I am back to hiding. Luckily, I can escape sometimes ... to the pool, to P. But when I am home, I don't want to hang out with him and the kids as if we're all a family again. I worry that it's ultimately too confusing for Lulu and Boo (and I suspect, exH too). Because soon (right, Universe?) we're going to move out and go back to the life I have so carefully built for us this past year. Just not soon enough.