It’s the first school holidays since our little family unraveled, and I’ve got to say, I am so proud of us. The kids are handling everything fabulously, and the adults are remaining civilized and communicative. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that we’re possibly more functional than we were before.
The kidlets have spent the first week with Dad, which has been an excellent opportunity for them to bond, and for Dad to practice his parenting routine. Our former system of parenting involved him spending most of his waking hours working, and me staying at home, cleaning, organising and keeping the children alive. Dad could choose to be involved in the more interesting elements of parenting, but remained unschooled in the more mundane, but essential bits, like feeding them and using that special glare to stop them from killing each other. He’s working his system out, and it must be going quite well, because I just spoke to them on the phone and they’re still alive, although it did sound like they may have been crushing something in a bench vice. Sometimes it’s best not to ask questions.
It’s also been a great chance for me to catch up on some inner peace. It’s so nice to be able to come home from work to that blessed silence. No demands or complaints, I can just do things in my own time. I do miss them though. I miss their cuddles and how weird they are. Eavesdropping on their bizarre conversations and their surprisingly wise insights. They come home tomorrow, and I can’t wait.