I haven't posted in a day or so in real-time because we left for Hilton Head Island, SC. Every year, around this time, my scattered family and all of our offspring meet for one week on this beautiful, boiling, muggy, alligator-infested island. It's usually pretty fun -- after the usual spats and make-ups and pointed daggers and retreats, it's a week spent catching up and watching the kids, the cousins, play with each other as if they were all best friends, not separated by miles and years.
This year is different because I'm alone with the boys. The Husband is back in LA, manning the Larchmont Larder, and we left Sophie behind for the first time. The week is always a nightmare for her and the lowest rung of Dante's Hell for me. She hates change and travel and heat. She's generally up all night, in the same bed with us. During the day she is largely confined to her stroller when we're not on the beach as the house here has no accomodations for her. Although I tell people that the principle of leaving one of your children home out of necessity is a tragedy, the reality is that it's better for everyone.
One of those impossible decisions we make that is more like a concession.
And while I hate that her cousins won't see her at all this year, I concede.
And when I climb into the bed at night by myself and go to sleep it feels good in an exhausting sort of way.