My youngest son
is back with me. He and his brother had chosen to live with their father when the family fractured
three years ago. It has been intermittent parenting at best with regards to my sons.
With this move comes all of the challenges of rediscovering this boy who is my son. He has grown used to one style of parenting and now must adjust to another. My daughter and I have become used to each other's patterns and vagaries. It has been an easy twosome, a girls only pad. Now we must adjust to having a male in the house.
"I'm the man of the house now" he states matter of factly as he brings his boxes in.
She looks at me with her eyebrow raised and asks if I've told him her rules of the house. Yes, she has a list of rules conjured up specifically for her brother's change of residence. She has been "only child" for three years. She has grown accustomed to "not sharing".
The big couch is mine
The clicker is mine (unless I am not home)
I ride shotgun (always)
The bathroom has a window (open it)
etc, etc, etc
First night together, they are mock fighting over the couch. It is loud, it is laughter spilling out over the edges. It is wrestling and silliness.
Early this morning, I wake up to the knowledge that a piece of my family is back. It feels good. I head to the bathroom to wash up. Wouldn't you know it, the toilet seat was up.
This is going to take some adjustment...