I’ve been home alone for over a week now and I’ve been having terrible FOMO. My children are all on holiday with their dad, step family and partners and I’m missing them. You’d think it would have disappeared by now, that feeling I get when my children are away. On holiday. Having loads of fun. Without me. But, even after all these years, my heart still hurts at the thought of it. Otherwise known as “the ongoing pain of divorce”.
I keep telling myself to grow up, even though it’s tempting to shout “GOOD LUCK TRYING TO HAVE FUN WITHOUT ME”, which of course I don’t really mean (well, I do a bit…I’m only human) but naturally I’m grown up enough not to actually say that and I’m happy that they are all together enjoying themselves. But thanks to bloody social media, their fun is right in my face with those irresistible Instastories and Instagram pictures. Even when I’ve successfully managed to avoid looking at them, they are generally flagged up by someone else; “OMG did you see their story on the dolphins?” “Did you see they’ve all been whale watching?” “Did you see their hilarious karaoke night out?” and so on and so on….not to mention the large tuna my son caught and sent me photos of directly.
I did have them with me on holiday this summer, but only for a long weekend….not for two weeks. Now that the older two are working, they can’t do big holidays with the both of us and I didn’t get my order in quickly enough:-
In particular I’ve been wishing my youngest child had been around this week, because he’s heading off to university this weekend for the first time and these last few remaining days are very precious. I’ve been washing his new sheets and towels and beginning to get things organised for him, folding them carefully in readiness to pack up the car and drive my precious cargo far, far away from me.
Anyway, he’s back this evening and we will have a few last days to enjoy together – the sort of days whereby I will hang around waiting to see him whilst he will be going out to say goodbye to all his friends and then when we have to leave early on Sunday morning, I will stuff him and all his belongings into my tiny car to share the long journey together, the one in which he will be hungover and will sleep for the entire journey.
Twas ever thus.
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