Although he’s understandably tired, it’s fair to say G is proving to be very good at parenting without me. In fact it wouldn’t be unfair to suggest he’s taken it a step further. Some may say, well, I think he’s just showing off now.
I’m told there are no more last minute dashes to school. The little travellers have let me know that when you go with Dad, it’s highly possible he’ll get you there early enough that you actually have to wait for the gates to open. I made a comment recently to one of the travellers about the line up of cars at a particular entry point, she quickly let me know that the line is a thing of the past. Things have changed. “Mum, when Dad drops us off, there is no line. We get there before everyone else”.
I listen via Skype as breakfast requests are made. Cereal and toast have been surpassed by G’s short order menu, eggs are poached, boiled or scrambled, sausages sizzle in the background. Everyone has remembered their swimming gear for PE, their trombone for music, their guitar for lessons. Information nights have been attended and new lists have been made for International Week and an upcoming camp.
“You should probably talk to Dad about getting a present for the birthday parties you have to go to this weekend” I suggest.
“We did that yesterday Mum, it’s all done – Dad’s making us wrap them today so we’re organized”.
“Of course he has” I mutter under my breathe.
The little travellers are sending me pictures of their latest joint achievements with Dad. Here’s a picture of the boat we made, here’s a picture of the layered caramel sponge cake. And then these words after a midweek dinner from G “Annie wanted berries for dessert, so I just threw in some tiny meringues and whipped some cream and then drizzled the juice of the fruit over the top. I wish we had some marscapone, I think that would have just made the dish.”
Really, that would have made the dish, I reckon just getting dessert probably made the week!
On Facetime yesterday, the first traveller provided updates of the weekend. We talked about a party she had attended and how Dad had been there early to pick her up, but then the tone changed. G had taken her shopping for shoes for camp.
“How did it go?”
“He’s not you Mum. I mean, he’s great at cooking, and he’s fun to bake with, but he kind of doesn’t get it when it comes to shopping for clothes.”
I tried to stifle my glee.
“Your Dad’s never been one for shopping, he feels that 5 minutes is enough time to spend on a purchase. Any more than five minutes in a mall and he begins to break out in hives”
“You’re more relaxed” she smiles.
I’m afraid my relaxed has its faults. It encourages me to take an extra couple of minutes finishing my coffee when I should be heading out the door. My relaxed joins me while I try to buy a birthday present at the store, only minutes before the party I’ve known about all week. My relaxed has had me sizing up two chicken breasts, a broad bean and a limp artichoke wondering how I’ll turn it into a fabulous dinner for six. I would hope though, that without G, my relaxed would learn it was time to step up the pace, just as G’s organized appears to have remolded itself in my absence. The yin and yang of our life.
My relaxed yin, looks on admirably at how G’s organized yang is surviving without us.
Two different energies, not completely black nor white, waiting to form an outer ongoing circle.