The sunlight lights up the wall across from my bed. I look over the lumpy doona and into the bathroom window where the silhouette of the tree is waving hello in the morning light.

It’s quiet.

Each morning the silence is a reminder that I don’t live with the mini men. It doesn’t require thought, it just is.
Lately, however, I’m reminded by Dawn that I don’t live with them. A fact I can do without regular prompting.

Over dinner last night, the boys stretched our patience thin by refusing to eat and flicking food off their plates.

I got frustrated with the ordeal to get Beau and Chick to eat, so I negotiated with them that they could avoid no dessert in exchange for eating.

I rolled my eyes in frustration in hopeful concert with Dawn and said, “This is ridiculous”. She sharply replied, “Yes, and you only see one night of this.”

Last night I arrived home, not been feeling great. I noticed Beau’s school hat in my car. I knew he needed it, so I called Dawn to explain the missing uniform piece. I wasn’t driving another 90-minute round trip in the middle of the night.

This morning, however, we find he can’t play sport at school because he is missing his hat. Then he gets upset because he can’t and doesn’t know how to play handball with the other kids.

When Dawn tells me she told him we will teach him how to play at the weekend, I tell her that’s not particularly helpful as we can’t teach him everything. He needs to learn to ask other kids. Her response is, “Well, you don’t see him upset”.
My forced smile and response through gritted teeth is, “Yes, I know that. He just needs to learn some things by himself. Anyway, have a great day”.

I understand the comments, particularly when the family is in a state of flux with moving and new school schedules, but it’s like telling Eskimos they are surrounded by snow and ice.

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