At the start of this month the Smalls and I moved into a new flat in a new town for a new start.
It was the beginning of a new chapter for the three of us, we turned a new page in our book and started a different journey. The Smalls still spend a few days with their Daddy every week when he’s on his days off at work but instead of spending the rest of their time living at their grandparent’s (and me too) they now live alone with me.
It’s not been easy adjusting to this new set up for any of us. We’ve had to do lots more travelling to get them to Daddy, we’ve had to fend for ourselves in an unfamiliar place, get used to sleeping in a strange new building and most of all get used to it being just we three.
We’re not permanently alone. We go to playgroup and church, we visit friends, friends visit us, Caius comes over when work allows, we go out on day trips. But essentially it’s just us rattling around in our own little world.
And I’m no domestic goddess at the best of times. I’m trying to get into routines and good habits so that it won’t all get on top of me but it’s not always easy and sometimes I fall into bed without finishing the washing up or tidying the front room properly. I beat myself up about it but it gets done the next day so it doesn’t build up too much.
I’m getting there. We’re getting there. And hard as it is I love it because I feel like I’m living again not just existing.