It's strange when James is away. Exhausting, of course. And difficult.
No matter how much support I may get from my parents, no matter how many trips I may organise with friends and no matter how many bright and summery days I may be blessed with throughout the week, the responsibility of parenting is heavy when it falls solely on me.
I lie awake at night like a lioness, feeling fiercely protective of the quiet little thing that sleeps with its bottom in the air; and even when he's busily engaged during the day or quietly napping in his cot there's a part of me that's alive and alert; watching, listening, parenting.
And even though it's exhausting and terrifying and there's a part of me that's resentful of having to do it at all, it makes me feel powerful in a primal and fearsome way.