Having sat up way too late last night to do her hair I elected to take things a bit easier this morning.
Working on the ‘a little of what you like’ principle they both get a bowl of frosted corn flakes for breakfast rather than the usual porridge. I’ve decided to begin intermittent fasting again.
They’re with their mum tonight and indeed for the rest of the week as I’m working so I want to make the most of them. I’ve packed their bags with everything they’ll need until they’re back under my roof again.
This is going to take some getting used to…
My time-keeping anxieties came back with a vengeance and I was quickly aware of the language I was using around the kids. ‘Hurry up!’ ‘Stop dawdling’ ‘Speed up!’ ‘Tell me in the car!’
One thing I do quite well is listen to myself, and this time I didn’t like what I was hearing. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, I smiled. I was suddenly aware of the message that I needed to give my children right now.
I sat on the closed toilet, and hugged my daughter tightly.
My son, hating to miss out on intimacy comes barreling in. On noticing the comb in my other hand he swiftly 180s and sprints away into the bedroom.
The second error of the day hits me when I take a friends advice and ditch the motorway for the more rural route. I become traffic for quite a while.
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