People keep telling me I'm brave.  Don't get me wrong, I love the compliment (I could be the poster child for hysteric-dysphoria), but I feel that it is a bit of an overstatement.  To paraphase Albert Brook's film "Defending Your Life", it is not bravery to simply display a survival instinct.

Anyway, the a different character question keep cropping up - am I being cruel, and even more so, do I enjoy being cruel?  Today I am taking the boys for several days, and then for one shabbos meal.  When I told the boys' father (not sure what to call "my man" in this blog anymore"), his voice caught for the slightest second before he went back to his normal, 'whatever you want, I don't argue "okay"'.  Those of you who know him, know that is a HUGE thing.  He was devastated.  What could I say?  What did I want to say?  I didn't mean to hurt him, I just want the boys to know that they are still getting time and love from me, and to give "the man" a break to go shopping, prep for work, go to prayers, etc.  Really.  But it is hard to deny, that "almost outburst" brought more than one emotion to my heart.