The Rhythm That Comes Back

The rhythm comes back faster than I expect it to.

Within two weeks of school starting, the household has reorganised itself around the school day: the early alarm, the specific morning sequence, the particular pressure of the school bag that must be by the door by 8:20. The summer blurs quickly. By late September, July feels distant.

What takes longer to come back — or doesn't come back, exactly, but has to be rebuilt — is the shared rhythm. The understanding of who does what, in the morning, on the days when things are hard, at the point in the week when everyone is tired. The summer loosened some of that. Good and bad in equal measure.

He does the morning drop-off now. This is a new arrangement, from September. He goes to work later, and so it made sense, and sense was made of it by me, and I told him it made sense, and he agreed. This is still me managing the arrangement of the household even when the result is that he does more of it.

I'm not sure there's a way around that, at this stage. The awareness precedes the distribution. Someone has to see the shape of the week before anyone can divide it. For now, that someone is still me.

The rhythm comes back. I'm trying to make sure it comes back for both of us this time.