I’m up at Shoal Bay – on the coast about three hours north of Sydney – on a self-imposed writer’s boot camp retreat sort of thingy. Getting a whole heap of authoring type stuff done before What I Wish I Knew about Love hits the shelves next week. Churning through loads of work, so as a writer it feels great. As a hubby and father, not so hot. The best family holiday we’ve ever had was at this spot in January so, sigh, I’m missing them bad. And feeling a bit guilty about being up here – here’s the sunrise yesterday.
However, speaking with my wife, Allie, last night and she said – as she had many times when I was often away as a Stand Up: “You know, we do miss you, but it’s actually really smooth, and nice, and easy much easier you’re away. The house just works.”
I don’t know whether to laugh, weep, or just get on with the work without the guilt. Harrumph. Can other wives (or hubbies) tell me if this is normal when one parent goes away?
I’m going for a swim.