Friday 20 November 2015

In a While Crocodile.

This week I was lucky enough to have a few extra days with the boys. On the first day I asked, due to it corresponding with a day off work, if they would like the day off school? They have been asking for a few weeks for an extra day off and it's something we do regularly but not often. So I figured this day plucked out of the cosmos seemed like the perfect day to say yes.

We had such a lovely day, we bought new art books each and spent a few hours drawing. We had long conversations. Being quite a hot day we went to the pool during school time for a cool down without the crowds, came home ate ice creams, had cool showers, watched movies, drew some more and then all snuggled on the lounge until we were dozy enough to fall asleep and went to bed. It was near on the perfect day.

I woke up this morning to the news of horrendously hot weather coming and I saw a few people were planning on keeping their kids home. As their school isn't air conditioned, I spoke to the kids dad and woot! Another day off. I felt a bit guilty at first, I mean had I known at the beginning of yesterday that today was going to be a day off I wouldn't have done given them yesterday off. But in hindsight I'm so glad I did. And hell they are 9 and 10 and a four day long weekend won't kill them.

Today was another near perfect day, we had a water fight before the real heat kicked in, battened down the hatches, we did more drawing, had more conversations and watched more movies. No one asking to play on the computer, no one arguing in spite of the heat. Too hot for actual cuddles we just spent time cuddling with words and thoughtful actions.

We had just settled in to another movie, art books and/or pompom makers in our laps when I looked at the time.

2.30pm

And my heart dropped. It was almost time for their dad to pick them up and the end of our little staycation.

You see there has been a topic that I have tried to stay away with since the reinvigoration of the blog.

Co-parenting.

Due to hard work and as much mutual respect as two people who have split up can manage we share the care of the kids.

Generally I have the boys for three weekday nights a week and they are with their dad the other two. We then alternate weekends, and holiday weeks.

And for them it's near perfect. They love the extra time they get with both of us. They talk about it a lot. About their two houses. Their two bedrooms. That their family is bigger now. How they have such different times at each place. They have never once talked about the way our life is now in the negative tense. And to be honest I think that's how they feel 99% of the time.

But every week there is a morning where I drop them at school, we talk about all the fun things they might do at daddy's, how excited I am that they are going to do all the daddy things, have extra hugs, say our goodbyes. I tell them I'll call them every night and see them soon.

I smile a huge smile as I drive away waving and blowing kisses. Then I turn the corner and cry.

Every week it surprises me that it doesn't actually get much easier. I mean sure there are weeks that I'm just a little somber and others where it's really tough. I have tried to pin point why some are harder than others. It doesn't coincide with how long, good times, bad times, it doesn't even coincide with my hormonal fluctuations. It just is.

Today is a tough one. They won't be gone long, just a few days, but as I sit here in the hours since they have left I have a deep ache in my gut that is just telling me 'I miss my boys'.

I think mostly my sadness comes from the idea that, for all foreseeable time I will spend more time than before missing them. These aren't those little breaks where you get to just enjoy a quiet night, or the longer ones where they are doing something unique. This is just a part of my week.

The upside I remind myself is how fantastic is it that they are happy, they have an involved and dedicated father and mother who both really love the time with them (even the cranky insane kid days) and who both miss that craziness when it is gone. Who manage to keep up a relationship with each other that isn't about each other but about our two children. And so on weeks like this week because something unavoidable came up I got extra time with them and in a few weeks for my stuff their dad gets them a bit extra as well. And in the end that means that they are always ok. Always with people who love them. And because of this never missing me nearly as much as miss them.

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