it starts with a look across a room. most of the space between that moment and the onset of hopeless disrepair is a blur. a hormone-induced and meaningful blur, but obviously not reality anyway. it feels like we are running apart from each other. i work harder at being a family guy; coming home from work and making time for my wife and kids. she works long hours and then wants to be the center of all the attention when she is available. inevitable conflict. i am supposed to shut off my feelings for my children when they leave my house each week. then we can just be a newly wed couple who have time for expensive dinners and all the stuff that she wants. i guess not bearing the children means not having to take any responsibility for them. there was a dad at soccer practice last night who was talking with his son's mother. it appeared to me that he was quite bored, just sitting there with the other soccer parents, watching their children learn to play together and grow in those little ways all to evident when you watch and talk with them regularly. i thought it was ironic that i was better able to talk to this mom than her son's father (i am guessing they were not married). see our kids go to the same school and share some of the same friends. a commonality - small but important. now i have my own wife who does not want me to invest time and energy into our children (she is the only one calling herself step-mom) and asking me to do what policymakers have already deemed to be anathema. african-american father that i am, i should simply ignore the needs of my own children because i have "another" family now. smells like jealousy to me.