Friends.
I always land here when I consider the boys relative successes.
It started with an invite to hubby's boss's house for a swim and a barbecue. "The boys can invite their friends," he wrote.
I stared at the email with pursed lips. Friends? What friends? They have each other. For better or for worse, that's the truth.
As the week progressed, we did much as a family; trip to the beach, kayaking, zip-lining, swimming, fishing, camping. When we sat in our group Sunday morning, the issue I raised (we were all entitled to one) was community acceptance. "We make our own community," I have told hubby time and time again over the years. "They have friends....."
Maybe this is me trying to convince myself.
That night, hubby said, "well, what good is it if they don't go to school together? How do you expect anything to stick? Face it, most kids have friends where they go to school."
Tonight at the ice cream social, we were alone. I don't mind being alone, and looking at my kids, they don't seem to mind, either.
But, I know better. My kids are, after all, my kids, and they have learned to put a good face on for the sake of putting on a good face.
I'm listening to them in the other room together, sharing stories, happy to be home.
Is this good enough?
There are some days that I'm not sure what good looks like, anymore.
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