...So I am deep in my bachelor life, as Avril and Baby Peter have fled to New Zealand until mid-March or so, while I remain behind to pay the bills. It was tough saying goodbye to them Monday. The 13-hour plane right went OK and they are safe and sound in Auckland now. Meanwhile, I keep fretting that Baby Peter will forget who I am in a month's time, and won't let me tickle him anymore.
Of course, there are benefits -- I tore down all the babyproofing in our house, no longer having to trip over gates and barricards everywhere. I can leave books and magazines and drinks wherever I please without worrying about Peter eating them. I can watch "Lost" without having to worry about someone having a crying fit during it! I can eat what I wish, turn up my David Bowie CDs and leave knives on the kitchen floor if I am so inclined.
But all on all, there's more to miss than to savor. It's the first extended solo "Nik time" I've had since Avril and I shacked up in 1998. While I'll dig catching up with reading and movies and playing with the cat, by mid-March I will likely be a nervous, hollow-eyed wreck, eagerly awaiting the chance to change diapers and chase a toddling boy around the sofa. You can't really break the family habit. This is what it's like to be domesticated, I guess, but it really ain't all that bad.
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