This is one of those stories that you hear, that you never think would happen to you, because you’re ‘not one of those people’ or some other excuse that seems easy.I have two amazingly beautiful children. Both boys.They’re eight and five. My eight-year-old is the quiet one, a thinker, sporty, very handsome, very caring. He’s very easy to talk to, but not very expressive. My younger is the opposite. Very strong willed, never stops talking, amazingly clever. Will outwit you in any argument, with eyes to kill. They are chalk and cheese, like most brothers. But they love each other dearly. They are my babies.Their father and I split four and a half years ago, I took a 60% primary care arrangement when we split. We always kept everything civil and out of the courts. Life was less complex that way. Holidays were usually shared half and half. Week on / week off. He does this begrudgingly.In the October school holidays last year my boys went to stay with their paternal grandparents and their 14-year-old cousin for a little over a week. I spoke to them most nights. I missed them a lot.When they got home they started waking through the night, throwing tantrums that I wasn’t used to seeing from them.
