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Away

I have not had the luxury of sneaking off to this tent and being with you all for what feels like an eternity. So much has been happening on the outside that I’m certain I need to take more iron tablets than I usually do. I’ve been busy with lovely things but doing lovely things with a child does not make for carefree living, it seems. For example, the logistics of shuffling a child up and down coasts to attend two weddings in two days are not particularly relaxing. Well, not for me, anyway. Joel says I make things into too big a deal sometimes, and maybe I do, but if things were left up to Joel to organize, he would most likely have whipped out some flimsy hammock for us all to sleep on, erected it illegally on some corner of a beach, proceeded to announce that he wasn’t entirely sure where the wedding actually was, all the while proudly pointing out that he had remembered to bring rope.

 

 

It’s a funny thing, being away from Ella. It’s exhilarating to begin with, like sneaking out of your bedroom window, bursting into the night with a sense of adventure and freedom and a full pack of cigarettes. Then, after an hour or two, I start to get twitchy. I begin to realize that it’s never truly carefree anymore. Even when they are not with you, you still care. Your mind always wanders back. You always feel a little weird. The cord is cut but it isn’t really. If I’m really distracted, by say, a very inviting dance floor, some sensational company, and a glass or two of champagne, then the twitch might not kick in for a good three hours. Not until one splits their brand new dress right down to their knickers after one dances with a slightly excessive amount of gusto. Not until Joel is squawked at and ordered to patch it up with with urgency. Then, the twitch might begin; one which signals the end of a night and the inability to hide the fact that one does not get out much. It’s a twitch that beckons you home, to that comfy place where yoga pants live, and to where your precious baby sleeps. You just miss her, and when you return home, you breathe a little easier knowing she’s there with you, safe, sound and sweeter than you remember. I think that’s just how it is now. When they’re not with you, you are always in two different places.

 

However, those three hours of freedom, when you are with your girls from this tent in real life, fill you up in a way that nothing else quite does, and you thank the stars above that you ended up lucky enough to have them.

 

 

 

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