Radio Silence

I've been sentenced to radio silence with Wm and Patch. Apparently, they're fine as long as they don't hear my voice or mention of "Mama" or "India." Thus making like easier for Greg and Lea, despite the difficulties posed for me, alone in my furnished temporary quarters. Greg calls after the boys go to sleep, enforcing the rule and rendering any pleas of mine futile. Pity on me!

Good news, though, is that Wm has not put up any bedtime fights. Before I left, only I was allowed to read stories, so Greg and I were worried how the bedtime routine would transfer to a Dada-only environment. Turns out, with radio silence, no toruble at all. One night, when Greg was trying to convince Wm to fall asleep in his own bed instead of Patch's, Wm even said that he couldn't sleep alone because Patch kept him company when I was gone. What a great little brother! [As I type, I can picture Patch accidentally bowling Wm over with a generous hug.] Greg gave up his entreties and now the boys fall asleep together in Patch's bed.

I'll be home in about 10 days, so my self-imposed exile will soon end. Most of you know I'm not really a mother to pine after or fawn over her children, and my work-induced mother-guilt is on the low end of the spectrum. Three weeks of travel, though, is testing even my independent nature.