The youngest is sick AGAIN. Her dad dropped her off to me yesterday morning. Fotunately I can work from home when required, as most of my job simply involves my brain, touch typing skills and a computer.
Despite being crook as Rookwood, the youngest still tottered into the family room and made appreciative noises about how well the budget decorating had come together while she was gone. She even said I had a knack. Bless!
My ex has been wondering whether we should book a doctor’s appointment. But she’s had a few weeks of good health, apart from her eternally blocked nose. And it is the worst flu season ever. Maybe she’s just been unlucky.
I feel very lucky to have her, despite her rocky health and the prospect she’ll pass the germs to me. I love cocooning with my kids on the couch on cold winter nights, just the three of us … arguing over what to watch on the tellie.
The eldest and I would happily watch The X-Files ad nauseum, but the youngest is more of a comedy/reality fan. The eldest hates reality.
She is her mother’s daughter. One of the regular highlights of my teen life was catching a train to Sydney and heading straight to the Galaxy Bookshop to top up my sci-fi/fantasy book collection.
I’m not really one for the ugly realities of life. For example, I will never quite come to terms with how awful human beings can be to each other.
A few tough situations have confronted my friends of late. One involves an international custody issue that has lead to a mum not seeing her young son for more than two years.
The father is using the son as a weapon to hurt the mother, failing to see how badly he is damaging his child in the process. He even coached the little boy to verbally abuse his mother on the phone the other day.
I look at my poorly daughter on the couch and can’t imagine doing that to her. I want her life to be filled with as much love and as little conflict as possible.
I will never forget her teacher telling me that you can’t tell she’s the child of separated parents.
Mrs C reckons she can normally pick it, but the youngest doesn’t show the usual signs.
I told Mrs C life is too short to be wasted on bitterness and it’s much better for the kids if we got along. I will always stand by that.
I was reading an article on Fatherly about how anxiety caused by divorce or separation can affect a child’s physical health. Psychotherapist Kathryn Smerling noted that it can also lead to issues later in life, such as IBS, insomnia or depression.
Fatherly explained: “Naturally, it’s not the ugly divorce that causes illness but the chronic stress that children are exposed to when their parents volley them between custody battles and passive-aggressive weekends.”
The site also cites studies that suggest the best way to ensure children suffer the least possible chronic stres is to remain on good speaking terms with your ex.
“Studies have shown that children of divorced parents that are amicable and present little friction are healthier and have less emotional scarring than those who have been through a chaotic divorce in which they inevitability are at the center” Smerling says. “A ping pong match is never easy for a child.”
Unfortunately, some parents disappear so far down the rabbit hole of bitterness and anger that they can’t see the damage they’re doing.
My heart goes out to my friend and her child who are suffering.
Song of the day: Stevie Wonder “Isn’t she lovely”