Ethan's been away on a course for the past week.
I've genuinely missed him . It started out with me missing
him for all the practical reasons - helping shoulder responsibility for three
young kids from dawn 'til dusk, being able to leave two of the kids at home
while I take the other one to his swimming lesson, etc. On the day that Oliver
split his head open and I had to be in work, I really could have done with him
being around.
However, as the week went on and I received tender,
encouraging texts from him and he checked in with jolly phone calls to the
kids, I started to miss him for other reasons. I looked forward to him coming
home. He too, after a week of high sociability was looking forward to the
sanctity of home. Except therein lay the problem: home is not the restful place
with sweetly-playing cherubs that he'd built up in his mind while he was away.
When he got home, the first few hours were wonderful: he was
involved and engaged with the kids and they, as a result, were pleased to see
their dad and eager to please. I soaked in the luxury of not having to do
bedtime and feeling part of a partnership again.
By the next day, his enthusiasm may have been waning
slightly, but still he took the kids to the park whilst I caught up with work:
all voluntarily and in good grace.
However, by the end of their excursion, his reserves of
energy and engagement were definitely running dry. As teatime approached, the
familiar irritation and aggression with the kids began to resurface. He was
annoyed with Ava for talking too much. He snapped at the boys over the volume
of their voices. And he sighed loudly at me when I came too close making a cup
of tea while he was using the 'food preparation area'!
Reality bites. But maybe, Aspergers or not, we're all guilty
of appreciating each other most from a distance!