JP just returned from a week’s vacation, and needless to say, I am inordinately excited to see him. This isn’t as much of a given as it might seem at first. One of the semi-rules (semi in the sense that I feel free to break them) I have established for myself as a divorced father is the notion that I’m just not gonna let the whole thing be a big deal. By that I mean, no jumping up and down when JP comes to see me, and conversely, no moping when he’s not around.
While this does have an emotional benefit for me—it’s never good to get too high or too low, right?—the main reason for this rule is JP. I don’t want to signal to him that he should feel bad or unsatisfied with his current lifestyle. It’s important that he view his life as normal—which it is, in a fashion. Certainly it’s better than when he was living with two arguing, unhappy parents.
That said, because I haven’t seen JP in a week, and because preschool summer camp is over, the little one has, of necessity, accompanied me to work today … when I’m on deadline. So far, he’s done well. He’s happily playing an early reading game on my laptop, and all is well.
But I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.