Serious attachment

Today is day thirty three since Emma left, and she’s back tomorrow, flying above the Pacific Ocean as I write this. I’m really looking forward to her return. There’s a lot to do so I start early and just keep going, making the house clean and welcoming for Emma. The busy morning is punctuated by little moments of beauty – a thick, lingering mist, the walk down to Blackbutt Creek to start the pump.


We went and saw Mum off in the afternoon, another return journey, like partners twirling their way back to where they started having danced their way around the room. She’ll miss Noah very much. I drive home and leave Noah with Sue and Rob and then turn around and drive back into town for choir. Madness. The drive is too long. I’m tired when I get home, Noah is still buzzing after his long sleep in the car, and I still have to cook and light the fire.


Noah is back in his own bed tonight, a transition that went very smoothly, which is almost to be expected. He has taken Emma’s absence in his stride, never having once asked for her, never questioned why she wasn’t there. This may be evidence of some serious attachment issue but instead I like to think it’s the opposite, that he’s just very settled and confident and trusting, and feels very loved. I couldn’t have done it without Mum.

“I’m grateful that I had dinner with Sue and Rob and I went to preschool and we went and saw Nana’s plane take off with the big propellers.”
(Confused? Look)