Predawn rumblings

It’s 630am on a Sunday and I’m wide awake.

After just over 3-4 months of being the only person to get up for the school routines and when the children wake up at weekends , my body is getting into it’s rhythm. Equally I had two small beers yesterday and for some reason when I have a few beers in the evening my body wakes up pretty much hangover free and silly early the next morning. I have no idea why this is but even when I’ve been a little excessive with the beer (and that isn’t a euphemism for so shit faced I find patches of vomit about the house, my wife isn’t talking to me in the morning and one of the children asks through chary eyes why I was so scary the night before, it really means 4 cans when 3 is usually enough to round my evening of watching sci-fi) I can be up at 5 am feeling cotton wool headed but still like I’ve drank several red bulls and in need of channeling that energy. It’s not unusual to find me shifting around the house downstairs with the sweeping brush getting the dust into corners for when the house is awake I can hoover it up, or going out into the utility room outside to get the laundry sorted.

Today I’ve already googled beef recipes, I’m never 100% confident to do it toally off the hoof, I like something to reference when I’m cook. I’ve already done the laundry, the pots, sorted out all of my lands in the god sim app I have for my phone, cleaned all the surfaces, prepped the veg and had two cups of coffee, so I’m fully committed to this being awake lark now.

Though I love my children being at home and spending time being a father, there’s also a mental calm that comes with them being at school and having the time and space to put the house in order completing the daily chores.  As a foster carer I’m very lucky that I don’t need to go out to work and have the space and time to be at home during the day. Not only can I keep the house in a reasonable state, but I also have the time to go above and beyond and get tasks done that would otherwise have to be left until the evenings or weekends, eating into family interaction time.

I know when I say this it’s sounds hackneyed and clichéd but I genuinely think homes and families have to be crafted.  They don’t flourish of their own accord but with effort, time and the ability to evolve can do so insurmountably.  Just as if I was working the craft of wood carving or fine glass blowing, a family needs to be worked on and polished.  Families do function with very small amounts of input, and I’ve found from fostering that families can survive, or at least exist, with no input and even negative care or interaction, but I they can flourish if you take your time to nurture them.  They shouldn’t be left to amble forward under there own momentum

I love my house because we have time to give it more attention and think of the little idiocies and touches that make a secure home for children to grow up in.  I am not naive to the fact I am very lucky to have this time, I know lots of families don’t and this no judgement on them as they probably work a lot harder that I do balancing both a difficult job as well as the home life, whilst my efforts are spread over larger periods of time.

Families are precious and need to be crafted.  It is a skill that needs to be passed not only down to our children but to our friends and we need to be receptive to great ideas in our friends when we see them.  When I look to some of my friends, the families they have and the time they spend with their children, it impresses the hell out of me.  In my perpetual striving to be the better father I’m not conceited enough to take the credit for my view on families, there are several friends I will always try to emulate and when I feel I have achieved an approximation how I see them I feel I’ve done well.

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