Weekly change model

When she gets off the bus and sees me, Milla runs off and jumps into my arms. The gym bag gets tangled up on our legs and we are a tangle of people, jackets and bags. Milla comes back to me on Monday. The following Monday, she jumps into Gianni’s arms. It’s as natural as brushing your teeth. It’s planned out for an entire calendar year. It runs like clockwork. Luckily, there will soon be lockers at school, which means that, in addition to school bags (really amazingly heavy), piano sheet music (really amazingly large) and the latest Harry Potter book (really amazingly thick), the sports kit, the second favorite cuddly toy and the latest chapstick don’t have to change apartments on the same day.

It’s louder with Babbo, quieter with mom

Three years of the weekly alternation model have established routines and created new certainties. The weekly alternating model sounds like separation, tears, loss and hardship. And to some extent it is. It is always a farewell. A short one. But yes, it is a farewell. But it is also always joy. Joy for each other, joy for the other parent, joy for the other nursery, for the other life. It’s louder with Babbo, quieter with mom. Babbo’s is messier, mummy’s is more structured. The world is different at Babbo’s than it is at Mama’s. At Mama’s there is more time to play, at Babbo’s there is more going on. At Mama’s there’s Jonas in the house, at Babbo’s there’s Alina. During the vacations, Mama goes to Norway and Babbo goes to Florence. The children’s lives are not in between, but with us. We talk about what was new, what the teacher said, what Milla laughs and cries about, when the next choir performance is. When it’s Monday, I have time for her. I’m happy to see her. I’m happy to listen to her thoughts. I look forward to spending the coming week with her. When it’s Monday again, I know that Gianni is looking forward to seeing her, hearing her thoughts and spending the coming week with her. When she’s not there, I trust her. I go to work more, I go to the gym, I meet my friends and I sleep an extra hour. It’s parenthood deluxe. We’re doing well with it.

“Selfish, the end of humanity”

When I say that, I don’t have to look far to read the following comment: Selfish, the end of humanity. I think about it, of course I do wonder if and how, I twist and turn our lives. And don’t find the problem. Maybe because I am me and we are us. Or maybe it’s because we’ve lived as a family for the last ten years. We have grown. We have gained experience. Family is not a status quo that you set up once, decorate until it looks good and then remain motionless for the rest of your life. Family is a moving construct, a connection of people who take responsibility for each other. Mutual responsibility means that everyone involved is allowed to do well. That compromises are found. That people talk to each other and listen to each other. That you can rely on each other. Whether the apartment is messy, in a different neighborhood or only occupied every other week. Who cares. Milla says she thinks that’s a good thing.

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