This past month I was the one who left the house for work. I was a FIFO wife of the working kind and to be honest whilst I have left my children before it was the first time I wasn’t breaking my neck to get out of the door to leave my life behind for just a few days rest. This was the first time where leaving my children wasn’t mixed with overwhelming joy because I was going able to pee and sleep alone for more than 24 hours. So this time knowing I was going to work was met with a little hmmm. It was work and no I wasn’t particularly stoked about it. It was what it was- work. And whilst it was only ten days it was ten days of work. The plane flight was a plane flight to work the hotel was accommodation and the people not my friends but strangers who dressed far nicer than I.
In fact the morning I left whilst I wasn’t the third wheel I felt removed somehow. I helped the boys get ready for school but it was Nana {who had travelled down to care whilst I was away} who was the parent this morning. My boys like a knowing switch instinctively called for her when they needed their shoes or help find their readers because well mummy was going to work this day.
And like they instinctively made the switch to calling for Nana instead of I it was me who also instinctively made a switch to create a distance. I was there but separate and without meaning too I sat back and allowed Nana to take the reins. It was a strange feeling this letting go and allowing my mother to take charge but I noticed that it was something that my husband did each time he flies back to work. It’s never bothered me but had felt it and I had always wondered why. He never became the third wheel or an obvious separate parent entity it just sort of happened that way. I often wondered was it hurt regret what?
Then I realised that this distance it made the good bye easier not just for me but them. It formalised going back to work because let’s face it we all have to work.
It was then after hearing Nana scream one last time that the bell was about to go {in typical parent style} I walked my boys to the school crossing. They hugged and kissed me goodbye and ran off blindly across the crossing. I turned to walk back to the house when they screamed in unison{ just like they do their father when he heads back to work} from across the road see you when you get home from work mum we love you. And I have to say the great sense of pride I felt for my boys is what kept the tears at bay because I was going to work and they understood everyone must make a dollar and that me going ‘away’ was no different to anyone else’s mum or dad going to work.
Do you notice that distance when going to work ? Am I a little bit right?
xD
{image source from here with thanks}
