Day 1: goodbyes

Day one begins. Woken by toddler who pokes me in the eye while calling my name. Once assured I am awake, he proceeds to climb up on something precarious, safe in the knowledge that thoroughly awake and not at all still groggy and drowsy daddy will be there to rescue him.

Met other child in bathroom, buck naked. (Him, not me) announces he would like me to go back to sleep upstairs. When I inquire as to his reasons, he says it's because he wanted to cuddle.

Take toddler monster and slightly larger child monster back upstairs, for cuddles and stories. Try to banish knowledge that this will be last story I read them for a while. Try to focus on fact that "a while" might only be a few weeks. Try not to focus on fact that "a while" could be several months. Last story I read before Wolfgang gets twitchy is "Simple Simon"

Go downstairs for shower, change, show D how to disassemble the play pen for something like the one millionth time, worried she won't be able to do it without me and will swear and kick and scream at the blasted thing (which is not unjustified) without anyone there to show her how to do it for the one million and oneth time.

Disassemble baby gate at top of stairs. Feels like an act laced with finality. Don't want to do it but do it anyway.

Cart a suitcase that D has packed with depleted uranium cores down the stairs and into the front porch.

Sit and drink my coffee while the children argue about their breakfast, Liam by avoidance and Wolfgang through outright rebellion. Realize this is last time we will sit down together for a long time. Brain needs to shut the fuck up. D reminds me for the thirteenth time that I can make pasta and have it with our leftover pasta sauce from the other night. She worries I will sit in my underwear eating cheese sandwiches while she is away. Not unjustified.

Give slightly larger child monster, small toddler monster, and D lengthy hugs that are mostly silent as I fend off tears. Not because I'm ashamed to cry but because the tears are mostly for me, not them, and I can't afford to cycle into any form of depression. Still, quite difficult to let any of them go.

Get second round of hugs after I get my stuff on for work. Leave house rapidly after that or I just won't go, but it makes no sense to stay.

On my way to work. Barely notice my bus stop approach. Focusing on writing this instead of experiencing sense of loss. Short term tactic that is in ways cathartic but too soon for catharsis, and possibly inappropriate

It's only 8 am

This has been a long day