Good day, dear reader, here is my review of being in a long distance marriage. Firstly, the bad news; it is at least as shit as it sounds. My least favourite part of it is weekends, particularly long weekends. I can entirely see why so many people decide to top themselves at Christmas, the combo of every other fucker being really pleased about it and them all having plans is deeply depressing. The other worst thing (it’s a draw) from my perspective as the one with the two young children is the times when there is an “extra” thing to do from the normal daily routine of cooking, cleaning, nappy changing, playing, ferrying to and fro, cleaning again, cooking again, cleaning again, dealing with the odd tantrum & sad “I miss my dad” times, and putting to bed. These “extra things” for me have come in the form of moving house, having fuck loads of too large furniture arrive, and illness, lots and lots and lots of illness, roughly one every week at the moment. Being up in the night, changing sicky sheets over and over again, changing & washing pooey pants, disinfecting vast areas of the house, having one limp whiney kid and one frustrated over energetic one, some sleep deprivation & the feeling that you might puke too just tips it over the edge and into bad. All the other things you might think are shit about a long distance marriage are shit too, lack of same timezone moral support, and sex to name a couple.
The good news, though, is the house is a dictatorship and I am the dictator and sometimes I put an eye patch on and make the kids walk the plank.