You've heard of Army brats. Well, there's another breed out there. We're raising some of our own, seen above with the children of two other Resident families. Their fathers are not gone 9 to 5. In fact there is no rhyme or reason to the absence or presence of Dad in their little worlds. Some days he never steps foot in their waking hours. Some days he's home for the morning's bustle, making pancakes or lounging on the playroom rug for mega lego construction. Or maybe in the evening (Mom's favorite) when a better job is then done on the teeth brushing and flossing. The table fills up for dinner with real food and a warm body in every seat. A certain energy is injected with his presence alone. Mom will sometimes disappear. The house is messier, less is accomplished but many more smiles are spread.
They are not worse for wear. They accept. They accept that he's gone. They accept that he's hear. No grudges cloud their relationship with Dad. Their company to me is welcome on long days when those same grudges have made mom a bit too hazy for normal functioning capacity.