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Home Alone

I’ve no idea how Macca Pacca and the gang are getting on in the Night Garden. The TV remains on the channel I choose.

The rooms of my house are deafeningly quiet. The toys remain in their basket untouched. I make as much noise as I want after 7pm and there is nobody melting down at the mention of bedtime. My guitar remains out of its case and out of its allocated position. I am home alone.

I left Faith and the boys 3500 miles away. My holiday was over, but theirs was barely half way through. With flights being the most expensive aspect of our adventure it seemed like a good idea at the time, to leave my family in America. This all means they are able to spend more time with the stateside family and more time in the land of the free.  If I’m being honest the thought of having a bit of time to myself was appealing. But the reality of saying goodbye to Faith and the boys was painful. I went through the airport security gate a snotty mess dreading the two weeks we’d be apart.

On the positive side I’ve tried to make the most of my time alone. I’ve bought a lawn mower. Mowed the lawn. Sat down immediately after walking in from work. Slept past 9am (though I did feel a bit guilty). Watched TV in the middle of the day. Yep, it’s been pretty wild. But, I feel like I’m missing a limb. I watch videos of the boys repeatedly. I texted Faith almost every hour. I miss them. I miss all the noise and chaos that used to be annoying but really is the anthem of my wonderfully blessed, full and happy life. I don’t miss Macca Pacca – but there’s still time.   

 

 

 

 

 

The views expressed in this blog are solely those of the blogger and do not necessarily represent the views of Dad.info. 

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