The children are in Illinois visiting their father's parents; I am in Clark's Summit PA, far far away from them (though not alone: goodness there's a lot of traffic wedged into this scenic, evergreen- dense, cleft in the mountains).
I cling to those child psych books that tout "Loving, Authoritative Parenting" because maybe I can still pull those off, at least sometimes?
Loving? Check! I love the little buggers to pieces. I think I am pretty good at emoting that (though sometimes I do also emote irritation and other less pleasant things).
Authoritative? On a good day, I manage to be calm and in control (On a bad day I am hectoring ineptitude embodied).
Parenting? I try. I try to be there. I try to be There with them when I'm there.
I miss them. Should they come to read this blog (angrily perhaps: how dare I pimp out their lives to a world of unknown readers? For what?). . . Anyway. Should they come to read this blog themselves one day, I hope what they find here is how much I love them.
I am going to use the hotel pool now. They would love it. I will miss them (and there will also be a tiny bit of pleasure, guilty pleasure, because I will be able to swim rather than lifeguard).
They would have hated the drive. As WYPR faded into the Harrisburg Public radio station, I managed to catch the same episode of Prairie Home Companion, twice!