I wrote this post over a week ago but circumstances prevented me from publishing it.
So after a long week I am on a plane to Christchurch, NZ for six days away. On my own. With no children.
No being anyone’s timekeeper, no having to telling anyone: it’s time to get up, time to go to bed, time for tea, time to get off the computer, time to turn off the TV, time for a shower, time to brush their teeth, time to throw the empty toilet rolls away.
Driving to the airport, passing all the families off on their Easter break I was struck by a small twinge of guilt mixed with a smidgen of sadness. For the first day I will feel a loss, a loss of someone who needs pointing in the right direction and reminding what needs to be done. I am here to tell you though that wears off pretty quick and although I am not quite punching the air for my new found freedom yet, I know I will enjoy the break.
The last time I went to NZ was with Pete and that would always be my preference but it is also comforting to know he is at home looking after the girls. I am in no doubt that Pete, Molly and Lulu enjoy the time I am away too. Rules are relaxed and bonds reinforced.
For the next six days the only person I will be timekeeping for is me. Time to read, time for sleep, time for more sleep, time for a drink, time for another drink.