Another Familiar Rhythm
January 21, 2026 followed the same weekday rhythm I've grown used to: taking the kids to school in the morning, picking them up in the afternoon, and filling the space in between with cleaning and whatever else needs attention.
In the quieter moments, I played some of those "earn money" games. I still don't fully understand the appeal. You might make five dollars after weeks of constant play—pennies an hour, really. What frustrats me is the way these apps advertise people earning hundreds or even thousands of dollars. It's misleading at best. I don't like false hope being sold as opportunity.
Moving Between Houses Again
Later in the afternoon, I dropped Isabella and Brandon off at Eve's house so I could pick up Kayla from work and take her home. After that, I went back to Eve's, ran a small errand, and then we took the kids to youth group.
During youth group, Eve and I stayed back and spent time together. I was aware of the risk—she's still dealing with the flu—but she's been careful, wearing a mask and keeping distance when needed. Still, it lingered in the back of my mind. Some choices feel necessary even when they aren't ideal.
After Youth Group
When youth group ended, we picked the kids up and I took Eve to get her medication. After that, I picked up Isabella and Brandon, dropped Eve off, and finally headed home.
Somewhere in all of this, a moment stuck with me more than I expected.
Eve's oldest daughter called me "dad."
It caught me off guard. It felt good—deeply good—but also compilcated. I don't know where the line is. They do have a dad, even if custody isn't settled yet and he isn't present in their daily lives right now. I don't want to replace anyone. I don't want to overstep.
But it still meant something to me. More than I'm ready to unpack.
Winding Down
Once home, I watched a few episodes of The Resident before finally deciding to go to bed. The day wasn't dramatic. It wasn't heavy in obvious ways.
But it carried weight.
What I'm Sitting With
Some days don't hit you with a single defining moment. Instead, they leave you holding several small ones—questions without clear answers, feelings that don't come with instructions.
Today was one of those days.