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Summer without children
This is very strange. At the start of the summer I contemplated a daily blog, probably sometimes just photos of wine, charting my descent into madness with the school holidays. Don't get me wrong. I love the brats. I love being a mum. But that all day, every day thing it turns out I am not cut out for. But then I realised... I don't have it this year. Mixes of camps with Guiding / Scouting, and their dad moving away so he is actually having them for a chunk of time (previously it was just the weekends as normal), means that I only have them properly for about two weeks. I don't like it. Summer is meant to be about long days squabbling and fighting and as Gill Sims says, #makingmemories. Maybe it's just because they're not here that it feels Wrong. Probably when they're back I'll be rocking in a corner asking why I missed them... One of the pros of a split family is that you get time off which "together" parents don't get. One of the cons though is that you get time off... Regardless of if you want it, or how much time. So, on Saturday and Sunday I will hug my babies tight. Then probably yell at B for being behind me every single place I go, and at Strawb for crying again, and at Dude for winding everyone up deliberately. But I will know that I don't actually want to run away from home, as it turns out, home is home. Home is Ohana.

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