Both Nicklas and I have no family living in England, so we have guests quite often. Someone asked me the other day if it’s hard not having family around to help with Rafael. It certainly doesn’t make things easier. We can’t just pop out and drop him off at his granny if we need to buy a new sink. We either ask his babysitter to come over (which costs money and she might not be available) or he’s coming with us (which I’d normally be happy to pay money to avoid).
I’m grateful that we live in London and flights are relatively cheap and fast. And I’m an introvert, so it’s always nice to have the house back to myself after visits. But lately I’ve been noticing how sad it is when our guests leave. They are invariably family, or very close friends, and seeing them leave reminds me of how little we see them compared to what we would were they here (or us there). And most important, how little Rafael sees them and them him. He always has so much fun when there are more people around. The first thing he wants to do when he gets up and we have visitors is to go wake them up in the morning—it’s sad to tell him they’re not here anymore after they’ve left.