The aftermath of 'me' time

Every so often when Jake was little he would go to stay with one set of grandparents or another so that Ash and I could have some time to ourselves.  While he was away we would have some breathing space, some time to call our own and to be a couple while he had a lovely time without us breathing down his neck.  He always burst back into our lives again with renewed vigour however and we were left reeling and wondering whether it was worth it (I'm sure I don't need to tell you at this point that it was, in fact I once called it 'marriage survival').  My weekend away has been something like that.  I had a lovely time catching up with friends I haven't seen for forty years as well as those seen more recently but not regularly enough; I relished the silence in the house and the lack of responsibility; I laid in bed long after I would normally get up and it was all sooooo relaxing.  All good things must come to an end though and this morning we're back to normal only with the added complication of those two days when I got out of routine and out of thinking about myself second.  Just two days away from it all and I've forgotten to speak slowly, to go at Ash's pace and to assume that things won't be straightforward.  I know we'll be back on an even keel soon but just for now I need to think very hard before I speak or act and those who know me well will tell you I won't find it easy.

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