I had been away visiting my parents in Darwin on my own whilst the husband stayed home with the kids. Arriving through the front door at 1 am I fully expected to be up an at them in just a few hours to the chaos that was a school day.
It should be mentioned that I have always said my husband would be the better stay at home parent. It was no surprise that I arrived home was a clean house; cleaner than I had ever seen it. It was to the extreme that even the toilet was repainted and cistern replaced. Peering in the kitchen on my way to bed I noticed the lunches for the next day was made and the lounge room as I walked in smelled sweetly of something, perhaps it was the smell of clean; a spotless floor. It confused me this smell but I vaguely recognised it as pre-child clean. Getting to bed I cuddled him as he had waited up for me and we went to bed.
Next morning I woke at 630am and as he was up, I stayed in bed. Our roles reversed I meandered out at 700 am as he did the first day back at home. He had the boys dressed. He had them eating breakfast and doing their homework. The house was still clean, and it was quiet and calm.
I stood at the kitchen bench. It was confusing, this was my house, this was indeed my family and I had only been gone five days, but I felt out of place. Like the literal third wheel. I was in his place like he had been many times before. I watched them. They worked well together. They didn’t need me to do anything. I tried to help B2 with his homework, but Dad had it under control. I shuffled back to the literal outside bench. The husband went on to tell me the news of their teachers and what they wanted from the boys. A funny feeling came in my chest along with the thought of why didn’t I know that? It felt odd and I felt a wee sullen thinking that I should know about that. How come? But I knew why. I didn’t know because I had been ‘away.’
I felt a wee bit left out that I didn’t know any of this; everyday important stuff. As their parent, I should know, but I didn’t and it felt weird. Perhaps it was a loss of control, a little jealousy as the parent normally in control but it felt surreal and I didn’t know what to do with the feeling or myself. So I just stood watching and listening to the chatter of the kitchen. Standing there I was just there like a straggler on the field trying to work out my position because it was Dad who they wanted; they didn’t even look at me for help.
I stood there smiling doing nothing because obviously I wasn’t required. It was in that moment I had made myself into a guest of some kind. He looked up and shot me a smile.What’s the matter he said staring at me as he opened the fridge.
I don’t want to interrupt I said trying not to show that I was hurt. Interrupt wasn’t the right word, but it was how I felt. I wish I could say that at that moment I was reflective in knowing its how he would have felt on many occasion but I didn’t; I remained quietly sulking.
It was then that I could have opened my mouth and said I feel like a third wheel. Started conversation on how I felt, but I was in the mood for sulking instead because I was hurt. It was at this point he could have happily indulged me to which already sulking I would have retaliated. Instead, he turned without another word and started to make my coffee and toast because I’m guessing he knew exactly what was happening.
The thing is, they didn’t mean to make me feel like the third wheel, but it happens. I understand how it happens because I do it all the time as the parent at home. It is however unintentional. It’s keeping the crap together, not letting go of the balls. because finding the momentum to start again is painful and hard in so many ways.
So this time as the straggler I could’ve turned around and let them be their little family unit and stayed being and feeling like the third wheel for as long as I liked. I could have sulked, taken my coffee outside and sulked. Stamped my feet that they ‘intentionally didn’t need me’. I could have revelled in this feeling like a third wheel and used it to my advantage.
Acting out how hurt I was by being distant and sulking would have been easily done but the reality was and is they did need me. They needed me like crazy and I wanted to be a part of them; they were the reason why. I wanted to be in the know despite my late arrival. It quickly became apparent I was the other wheel, not the third wheel and my family are the load.
Feeling like a third wheel or an outsider happens in busy families FIFO or not. It doesnt make a difference where one parent works. Families working long civilian hours find themselves in the same situation and so the solution is exactly the same for both industries.
You make a choice to be involved. Yes, it sucks being late to the party but its the choice we make for the benefit of them. Its part of the sacrifice of moving forward.
What I also realised, and so did he after consecutive fly in days, is you just need to jump back in head first and take your side of the reins, your place on the axel, your place in the cart as whatever analogy you want to use because there is no such thing as a feeling like a third wheel in a family well not this one anyway.
Xx Deb.
