It bangs and it stinks…
…to me tremendously. First he was there, the new friend. Then he was gone again. We were many and suddenly we were just us again. Corona came and went no more and we sat in the kitchen. Together and lonely at the same time. From the window we saw the flutter tape stretched around the playground and ate beans from a can. Family up and down, everything and nothing. That was quite a roller coaster that life was putting in front of us. We felt like shrunken wool sweaters on the spin cycle and then it was a problem.
When the whole place smelled like fish. When the children’s room resembled a jungle. When the washing machine lint filter clogged with coins. There were many more ifs that I don’t even remember. But one thing was clear, something had to happen. As it was, so it was perverted, a lid on the kettle, about to fly off. The thought in advance idealistic, the reality a challenge. The best intentions, washed away on their own corners. What is the most suitable way of life can only be experienced through life. Even if it pinches sometimes. Not everything was good, not everything was bad. It was us in four walls and it was intense.
So I looked for an apartment. For Milla and for me, so for us and a half. Because that she would also stay with Gianni in equal parts, that had long been agreed. Even before she came into the world. It ran, it walked, it took time, and then it was faster than expected. The move came, the separation, the jump into the next cold water. Goosebumps went off, not free of any conflict, but who would have expected that. For Milla it was new. For Milla, we were closer to adults than we would have guessed ourselves. Also lying in different beds united as a family. It had been nice to be able to walk from one apartment to the other. When mom is annoying, pile out quickly. If Babbo is a troublemaker, then so is he. Now she had to put up with both of us individually. One week. One week. She gradually realized that this could also have advantages. And the new gradually became the familiar. The known to the familiar. The familiar, of course. How this continues remains a matter for discussion. Process. A life path that I can’t record today for tomorrow. And that’s perfectly okay. We are alive. We are family. We continue. Only different. Co-Parenting Revised.
