An ode to awe

It’s the first full week of the school holidays and it’s been a busy week.

A week packed with den making in the garden (which the internet and ‘90s films have made look very easy when in fact, it is an art form in itself), park trips armed with pencils and a promise of beans on toast, great Nanny Janet, mornings at the cinema, playdates with cucumber and carrot sticks, suncream and splashing.

And towards the end of this first, tiring, joyful week I said goodbye to my little boy for the next five days. A sentiment which despite having co-parented for several years now, never gets less difficult. You know the quote about how parenting is making the choice to have your heart walking outside of your body? Co-parenting (and being away from your child) feels like that, but just not always being there to look after that heart. The beating pulse of your being, not just yours anymore, and trusting another to care for that part of you with tenderness and care, so that being distant simply feels less untethered.

And I know there are parents who would enjoy the break. Sometimes I would enjoy the break! Oh the things I would do! The places I could go! The cupboards I would sort! It’s the kind of 6-book-in-your-suitcase-optimism that I have often have to adopt to get through. The possibility! I can better myself! Finally get organised! Fill this emptying cup once more!

And, because of that time apart, I have the tendency, and wish, to try and fill the time we have together with magic. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t- because that’s life! Sometimes there is time for pancakes and slowness and spontaneity. Sometimes it’s fuelled on tiredness, being irritable and juggling too much. But sometimes, and just sometimes, it involves a post-dinner visit to the circus, to the incredible Revel Puck Circus in Beckenham Place Park, laden with popcorn and promise and ending being completely awestruck.